#I feel sort of cursed because this is my second job in this industry to turn completely toxic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

studiojeon · 3 years ago

Text

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | - how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :)

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break.

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus.

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would.

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time.

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building.

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?”

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway”

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack.

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

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rumblelibrary · 3 years ago

Note

Hello, it's me again, your friendly neighborhood... Hungarian?!...👀❤️

Can I request a Sebastian Zöllner fic, where he is a coworker of Reader, and there's an obvious sexual tension, attraction in the office, they sit opposite each other, legs touching sometimes, hands touching... Idunno... Things like this 👀🔥 but nothing happened... Yet...🔥🔥

Never an Enemy [Sebastian Zöllner x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 5k

Warnings: A bad mouthed journalist with strong opinions about art and performance that might offend

Author’s note: Did I let this idea simmer in me for ages? Yes. Did I ever stopped thinking about it? NO.

You hummed softly while the music blasted in your headphones as you made your way up the stairs to the headquarters of the Art Tribune, the art focused magazine you worked for since over a year.

You liked the job even if to deal with artists was hard and the pay check could really deserve an improvement, it was stimulating and surely kept you on the edge. That morning in particular you needed to revise some background stories and just loads of reading to do to work on a new article for an upcoming exhibition. Just the usual fact checking, but you just couldn’t do it at home the day before so you decided to come early and enjoy some peace and quiet at the office.

You arrived at the top of the stairs of the fourth floor with a groan, you told yourself you had to do the stairs because you spent 70% of your life sitting in front of a computer, kind of self care, but brutal. You groaned lightly going straight toward the little kitchen installed for the team when you noticed something in the empty shared room full of desks. It was actually a really nice place with big industrial style windows that let lots of light inside, a very smart environment to work in, with areas where you could relax, free Wifi and loads of facilities. Usually people were put in big desks together, facing each other, trying to push a sort of ‘community feeling’.

Inevitably most of the people created barricades with books, and pictures of their dogs or even empty coffee cups. Yes, all cute and artistic, but do not talk to me.

That’s what also the attitude of the man you shared your desk with on your first day. He whined like a child for twenty minutes, complained he was happy to work alone, followed the assistant of the editor around the office and created a barricade of catalogues between the two of you so thick that you wondered if it was also bulletproof, only to rest his elbows over it half an hour asking if you had the change for the vending machine. Yes, that random man was you colleague and friend, Sebastian Zöllner.

The same that you are witnessing now asleep on the desk, head resting on his crossed arms while a stand of saliva went down on his shirt, wild hair and shoes taken off.

He could be considered an attractive man if he wasn’t a bloody nightmare of a person. You actually worked a lot with him and enjoyed his presence most of the days, your characters folded nicely and you would bounce off his attitude. He was strong on biographies and annoying the shit out of others, so he was always nagging at someone, you included.

You smirked slowly tracing his hair with your fingers, he never looked so innocent and you were always surprised to learn how those messy hair were so soft. It wasn’t the first time you did that gesture, sometimes he did lean his head like this only to be touched like an annoying mewling cat that needs attentions. “Kaffee” He mumbled making you chuckle, such a an annoying brat and he didn’t even open his eyes.

You carried on walking to the little kitchen room to prepare some coffee for you and your desk partner. You shook your head aimlessly as you started wondering why the man is here at this hour and if it was really a good idea to wake him up. To have him awake means to be able to do little to zero.

You watched the coffee get ready, the comforting tune of your morning playlist getting you still on the good side of your mood as you poured the coffee in your mug.

Then you saw it, an arm sneaking in front of you and taking the mug from your hand, you jump scared in a second almost pouring the rest of the coffee on the whole kitchen counter only to encounter Sebastian sleepy figure behind you bringing the mug close to his nose and inhaling deeply the aroma before having a gulp, you stared at him as his jaw clenched, his eyes got a bit teary. “Fucking hot” he whined making you chuckle, he deserved it for stealing it, luckily you were already doing some more for him so he stole your favourite mug but you had some coffee for you left.

You pulled off your headphones leaning them on your neck “No idea you’d be sleeping at the office, weren’t you off on some interview ?”

He shrugged “yeah, well me neither, but interviewing sculptors is always annoying as shit and those are always supersensitive” he said opening the freezer and pulling out some ice cubes from their box and putting them in the coffee mug. “Scheiße!” He cursed as the ice cube landing in the mug caused the coffee to spill onto his white shirt. You pressed your lips tight against each other not to laugh into his face, but he was already pissed off and it wasn’t even proper work time. You watched him lean over the sink trying to wash it off somehow without even bothering to take it off, just adding chaos on chaos.

“Y/N! Do not laugh and try to help me! Beside, the heck are you doing here at this hour?” You rolled your eyes at that comment, but you didn’t indulge him in that request.

“I was just looking for silence”

He nodded like he didn’t believe a single word of it, he was just an asshole and you had to deal with it like it or not. You almost hated how he was so freaking good at writing and that’s probably why many people indulged him. Even you knew his pieces on the magazine and didn’t expect to find out he was so…so Sebastian.

You let out a breathy chuckle taking your mug and making your way to your joined desk letting him wrestle his balance over the kitchen sink trying to get the stain wet and not shower himself in the meanwhile.

You sat down at your spot leaning the mug on side, hands covering your face trying to keep a clear mind letting out a big breath “okay, let’s do this”

You turned on the lamplight on your desk pulling out your laptop from your backpack. As the computer was ‘waking up’ you stared at Sebastian side of the desk compared to yours.

You had like a little citadel of books around you, but it was pretty neat, a little succulent gifted by your friend for your first day at work with the name tag ‘Danny’ on it sitting beside the lamp, lots of pencils and pens of different colours and notebooks to no end. If you had something in common with that beast of a man was that you both still relied on paper for sketching ideas and write down impressions in the moment, then onto the typing.

His side, however, was like a contemporary artwork in itself. Half empty cigarettes packages everywhere, the ashtray filled up, paper inside books and books filled with more papers. Notes everywhere, the damn king of neon yellow post-its, stains of coffee and crumbles of food invert corner, his red laptop showing off like a punch in the eye and his satchel bag always hang or thrown around.

You often wondered if the cleaning stuff just gave up on him. Your lucky guess was that he would probably throw a fit if anything was moved, so everyone just played the blind eye.

He was good at throwing fits.

You watched him come back sitting in front of you, half of his shirt soaked in the attempt to clean it up, he licked his lips picking one empty package of cigarettes looking in it and throwing it away until he found one with still something in it and he lighted his cigarette as he turned on his laptop. You sighed opening the window to let the fresh air not getting you intoxicated.

You went back to sip your coffee and stare at the screen quietly, every now and then your eyes falling onto the little cloud of smoke in front of you.

Sebastian was an attractive man, that was undeniable and you were sure that made him also a successful interviewer even though he was so random and chaotic, when he was silent and collected in thoughts he was indeed a sight to be seen. The dark hair framing his face like he was some cherub, his deep eyes staring into the void of his own words as he typed. He had a sort of decadent look on him.

Slowly the office begun to get filled, people coming here and there to tease Seb about coming early and he just waving his cigarette around asking for silence.

“Zöllner””

The chief editor shouted getting into his office without even turning around. Seb rolled his eyes looking at you as he pushed the cigarette in the ashtray waving his hand around to dissipate the smoke around him before standing up.

“I wonder how he managed to survive few days without shouting my name” he smirked.

You looked at him and mimicked his smirk.

What a chaotic man.

You had finished your reading by then and started to make a first draft of the article you were meant to work on.

“Y/N!!!” Sebastian voice rang through the office making you jump on your seat and he gestured at you to go with him with a big wave of his arm.

You looked at your screen with an helpless sigh, it seems like you will not write that article anytime soon, you’d better just have slept an hour more.

You stood up following that incessant wave as Seb put his hand on your back to get you in a bit quicker.

“Good morning”

You said as the chief editor nodded quietly “Look Y/N, it is a big favour I have to ask you” he begun frankly as you were beginning to get worried “you did your time with silly articles, so I thought it could be interesting to pair you up with Sebastian to go to tonight’s exhibition of Evita Schnecke”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Sebastian shrug his shoulders.

“I need somebody to keep the horse with tight rains” Mr Megelbach continued gesturing with his pen at Sebastian and then at you “and you will dip your toes in those big time artists environment, but we really need to make sure Sebastian won’t hurt anyone’s sensibility, her interview has been obtained with lots of hard work”

“Yeah, we all know that hard work” Sebastian whispered in your ear earning a glare from Mr Megelbach who handed you a couple of catalogues from that artist and the invitation.

“So, put on hold your current article for today, make a plan with this train wreck and please make sure he doesn’t show up dressed like that”

“That was unneeded”

“All precautions are always needed with you, and now get out of my office the both of you”

You nodded moving out of the office, you were a bit anxious. Those artists were unpredictable just as Sebastian.

You made your way back to your desk with him as you sat down looking at the invitation. “So, it begins at 9 pm” you said almost understanding why Sebastian shouldn’t be allowed to go unescorted because the invitation on the dress code had: Wear something that talks about your soul. Only that could bring Sebastian to have an aneurism.

“I hate that bitch”

“Seb, that’s not a good start for an article”

He smirked as you said so but shrugged

“I mean it, this woman was born into privilege, she portrayed herself to be this underground rebel, but her simple black dress was a Chanel and her everyday boot Balenciaga, so I don’t trust her for a reason”

You smirked as you could agree with that and showed him the two catalogues the boss gave you

“Choose your fighter”

He groaned so loud he could have stabbed his toe and he leaned over his side of the desk picking one from your hand giving a light pinch on your side “teacher’s pet”. You chuckled softly as he always said that.

“Tell me if you read something that it is not about the performer’s way of life” he mumbled opening it in front of him.

You begun your reading and it was indeed the hell pit of a vey spoiled kid who was told to be the greatest since the first day of life, you picked your notebook and opened it taking notes on things that you could ask about.

Sebastian in the meanwhile lighted up another cigarette rolling it between his fingers mindlessly, his eyes looking above the paper at you every now and then among the little curses in German about the stupid things written there.

After some time it was becoming really a torture to read and you leaned your back on your chair stretching your legs forward for Seb to catch one of them among his.

You smirked as you often joked to him he was like some bear trap with those legs always catching yours.

He put his hand under the table bringing your leg up onto his thigh as you shifted even lower on your seat, his hand touching your ankle mindlessly as he had a talent for little massages like that. He did it the first time a while aback, a summer day where it was so hot and humid that you couldn’t feel your own legs.

So it became a little ritual among the two of you. You had many of those rituals, it was like an unspoken collection of attentions. Like you making the coffee in the morning because he was a grumpy ass. Or him always buying you some chewing gum or little treat when he went to buy cigarettes.

“I guess I am not the only one that needs a restyle”

He said bringing you away by the tenderness those little actions brought to you when he pushed his finger in your Vans shoe deepening a hole that you were trying to ignore from months.

“Seb, don’t do it, I wanted to make them last another season”

“Another season? These can’t last the end of the month, no doubt why your sex life is a train wreck”

You frowned at him taking your ankle off his hand to push on his chair making him roll back thanks to the little wheels underneath it, but he held on the desk and pulled himself closer again.

“What do you even know about it”

He looked at you, eyebrows raising up on his forehead

“Y/N, if I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t allow you to leave the bed that early in the morning to go to the office and that’s a fact”

“Oh, and how on heaven could you detain my passion for this job?” “Well, I can write you a list about it, you can consider it a to do list on your next date” His smirk was so wide, he enjoyed to tease you like that, the bastard, he knew to be an hottie and he always acted like half of the world was up to fuck with him.

“Oh please, do it, I want to see”

You teased him and he leaned in elbows on the table staring at you.

Oh the sexual tension with him was too much, you always went down on this hurricane of remarks, always him mentioning how you need more orgasms or implying it, or even implying how good he is at giving them.

“But be careful, because any act should be performed and not only lived”

You said quoting the artist you were reading about and he whined so hard like you really stomped your foot on his balls.

“Horrid witch”

“Me?” “No, that one”

He huffed and puffed picking another cigarette. Sometimes cigarettes just died on his fingers as he forgot to actually enjoy them more than waving them around.

The artist herself wasn’t remarkable, she used themes seen over and over before, she had a background as performer/dancer and she added painting to that, but more than talent she had an amazing marketing squad. You read her story and her commentaries about living like in a poem, which always sounds pretty easy with a big bank account.

You did all you could to stay neutral even if Seb was going down to massacre the woman, you two shared a bundle of two sandwiches (or better say, your brought a package of two and he was skipping his lunch so you just handed it to him) until you decided to get parted and go get ready at home.

That evening you were waiting for him in front of your apartment, when a taxi stopped in front of you and his figure appeared waving at you to come in on the back. His eyes widened in surprise “Well, well, well, look who got all fancy here”

He smirked as his eyes travelled on you shamelessly, the dress was actually one of those you brought ages ago and never used, also to wear heels felt like new, last time you went to a fancy event almost hard to recollect.

“Just move and let me in”

You said chuckling as you looked at him being so elegant when you noticed it, the price tag on his shirt.

“Seb, did you just buy this shirt?”

“Yes, and I am going to take it back tomorrow”

You looked at him puzzled

“What?” He groaned “I suck at ironing stuff”

You looked at him as a little laugh escaped your lips as he told you not to, but it was too late for that, you shifted closer to him anyway helping him to hide that price tag better behind his neck. Nevertheless the white shirt was really fancy and fitted him perfectly.

As you arrived in front of the gallery you sighed and made your way inside.

The place wasn’t crowded but few eyes turned as you got in.

“Would you like some champagne?” A waiter asked and Seb picked two flutes immediately downing one in a gulp on his own as the other was still in his other hand, he put the empty glass on the tray and then picked a third one handing it to you.

“Drink Y/N or you won’t make it to the end of the evening”

You smirked as he was always over dramatic, but indeed the evening seemed to be made for posh people to show off how cool they are.

You spotted the artist pretty quickly wearing a Valentino bright red dress, she surely had the dancer figure and gestures which gave her some kind of an edge.

"She is all yours"

You looked at Sebastian already half way through his drink, giving you that cheshire cat smirk.

"Are you sure?"

"You know I will insult her in a second if she names her dancing background one more time, I saw the videos, she looked like a three ready to collapse on the ground" he chuckled as you smirked shaking your head at his metaphor, but he is probably right, he is too much biased.

"I didn't notice the open back before" he said referring to your dress as he caressed over your skin with his fingertips making goosebumps raise up your spine.

"What? Am I too sexy for your own good?"

"Probably" he commented not losing a beat to answer you. You were taken aback from a moment, his eyes still down on his hand touching your back before raising up to find yours.

Then he took his hand away and pressed the cold champagne glass against it making you hiss "Now go, I'll check this bourgeois art"

You frowned but you just moved away from him. He always did it, he teased you and then made it a joke. You gave it back to him too, it was your relationship, that's how you balanced it.

"Good evening " you said to her with a smile holding your glass in your left hand before offering your right hand to her "I am Y/N, from the Art Tribune"

She went from neutral to smiling in a second

"Oh, I was waiting to meet you" she said leaning to kiss your cheek, surely she was a woman with charm, with a degree of boldness that made her charming and also, you noticed, extremely touchy-feely with everyone.

"We can define this a sort of retrospective of your previous works, I liked to see the evolution of it" you lied, because you just saw the catalogue.

But that was fair enough to have her go on about her, guess what? Past as a dancer, about how she needed to express herself, how she was her own muse and all the stuff you already read.

"What is next for you then?"

"I want to follow my dream, I have always wanted to found a space with my name where people could rent the rooms to perform dances and arts"

You stared at her. For real? Like there weren't other hundreds in the whole city?

"What will keep you apart from all the others that did this before you?"

"Nobody is me" she smirked like it was clear and obvious.

You asked few more questions, but you were sad to admit Sebastian was right. There wasn't art there, there was just profit, selling a name, a brand.

This saddened you because you met many artists that had less than a chance to make it but double the talent of Miss Valentino Dress.

"Y/N" Sebastian warm hand was on your back as you were downing the last bit of champagne "Come, come ,come quick" he said pushing you away as the artist clearly recognised him but he dismissed her with some insult or whatever he just mumbled.

"Seb, I was working, what the hell?"

"Elke is here"

You still didn't understand, you were puzzled as the reason of that anxiety was still unknown to you.

"Like your girlfriend Elke?"

"Put an ex in front of it" he said looking around frantically

"Oh, I am sorry, I didn't know"

"No, me neither, I thought she was just bashing around, she always did" his arm sneaked around your waist pulling you closer "please, act sexy for once"

You were one second from hitting his guts with your elbow when Elke herself approached.

"Oh, I didn't expect to see you here" she said waving her glass around

"Yeah, well I work for an important Art journal if you remember"

"How could I forget?" she groaned looking at you then as Sebastian's hand rested onto your hip. Really? Was he acting like you were his date?

"Hi, I am Y/N"

You said politely to her and she chuckled "Run when you can, this man is a leech and you don't even know it"

She mentioned it almost casually, but you could feel all the poison implied on your skin, Sebastian's hand giving you a soft squeeze, you had never seen him like this before. He looked like a dog that just got kicked, his back hunched over you lightly both trying to protect you and for protection.

"Well, thank you for your advice, I must be a real torment too because we actually have lot of fun together, I like his unpredictability"

You said it from your heart, you didn't want to insult her or anything, but you felt bad for him. Even if he probably deserved it, to be humiliated like this must be hard in any circumstance, in particular in a place where he is supposed to work and being known.

He looked at you a bit surprised, he leaned slowly pressing a kiss on your temple and you smiled because of that gesture so enveloped in that feeling of tenderness.

"Your shot" Elke said clearly a bit annoyed that you as she just moved along followed by a man that must be her date.

"Lets go out"

You suggested as Seb nodded and just followed for once, he held your hand as you guided him and for once he wasn't talking or commenting anything.

As you went out he sat down on the sidewalk pulling out his package of cigarettes taking out one immediately.

"Hey stand up" you said to him as he looked up at you and you snatched that cigarette off his lips "let's go away"

"Where? Don't we have to stay until she gets naked to dance?"

You smirked "No, we have all the material we need"

You took his cigarette away offering him your hand as he picked it and you guided him.

He was silent, which is rare, when he was silent it meant he was upset in some way, he always had a nice comeback line for everything usually.

His head leaned on side like a scolded child as he slowly laced your fingers together.

You walked across few streets, your heels clicking on the cement until you made it to your final location pulling him inside.

"Constatinopole?"

Seb asked looking at the sign, it was a kebab place, your favourite by the way.

"I am hungry" you just said making him lower his head and smile like a kid with cue breathy chuckles.

You ordered for the two of you as he went to sat down putting another cigarette between his lips when the man behind the counter glared at him and he just put it back in the package.

He sat down slouching as you did some small talks with the guys there, you clearly knew them. The soft music from the radio holding the place into a sort of magical aura as his eyes travelled over your naked back once more, the need for a cigarette becoming even more urgent.

You two dressed so elegantly really were so noticeable in the bright lightend place, he smiled to himself thinking it could be a nice painting by Hopper.

You came back offering him his kebab with a soft drink, very thoughtful because he was indeed already a bit high on champagne.

You ate quietly together, it wasn't uncomfortable, your silences were happening often at work and always filled with a sense of common understanding, you leaned your leg up like you always did at the office and rested it on his thigh as you sat sideways beside him. His hand flying naturally on your ankle to give his usual massage, his thumb tracing your skin with imaginary patterns as his other hand held the kebab close to his mouth.

The speaker at the radio announcing next song as Rocket Man by Elton John filled the room with a melancholic vibe. You couldn't help but think the song suited perfectly Sebastian, his being out of this word, out of control.

"Thank you" he said at some point as he tried his best not to ruin his shirt, you looked up at him as he was staring, his eyes telling you something on their own "You have been the best girlfriend I have ever had"

He added with a bitter smile diverting once more his gaze, you smiled back at him, he looked so resigned. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you have never seen him so fragile before.

"I could be"

His eyes darted up to you, his surprise evident as he put down the kebab, the soothing voice of the British singer still giving a dream edge to the moment as he moved closer. You slowly shifted your leg to give him room of movement as his right arm sneaked to rest on the back of your chair closing the space between the two of you.

His lips tasted still a bit of champagne as he pressed them against yours, you kissed him back slowly as his left hand travelled on your thigh pulling you closer to him probably staining your dress because of his greasy hand.

He pulled back almost immediately before leaning onto you again titling his head on the other side. This second time the kiss was more deep, more intense. Your hands slowly cradling his face before pulling back yourself.

He smiled against your lips and you smiled back.

Maybe tomorrow you will regret it like Elke said, maybe not.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved@fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44@apparrio @hb8301@whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl@obsidianlaszlo@alindeluce@zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahlingLet me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

#sebastian zöllner x you #sebastian zollner x reader #sebastian zöllner headcanon #sebastian zöllner x reader #sebastian zollner #sebastian zöllner x y/n #sebastian zöllner #sebastian zollner x y/n

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blossom-hwa · 4 years ago

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Sunflowers |Summer| - JUYEON

Can’t believe it’s already Juyeon’s birthday!!! Hope deobiblr enjoys my contribution for the birthday of one of the best dancers in the kpop industry <3

I will be doing a taglist for Sunflowers, so if you’d like to be notified when the next part goes up, send me a dm or an ask! Post dates are also on my posting schedule :)

Pairing: Juyeon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, high school!au

Triggers: cursing

Word Count: 2.3k

Juyeon is just a sunflower, following the light of your smile.

Summer | Fall | Winter | Spring | Summer, Once More

TBZ Masterlist | Interwoven

~ in summer, a stranger comes home

. . . . .

It’s the middle of summer when your mom delivers you a little piece of seemingly innocuous news, a piece of glittering information wrapped in old magazines and tied with cheap string to disguise its sparkle. Her voice literally vibrates with excitement when she tells you, which probably should serve as a warning or a signal of some sort, but in your defense, you’re tired from a day of classes and research programs and just want to eat and die.

“Our old neighbors are coming back!” she bursts, a spring in her step that you haven’t seen since the day you were accepted to your current prestigious research camp. “You know, the Lees who used to live next door?”

You blink once, then twice before the information sinks in. A memory settles at the front of your mind. “The Lees?”

“Yes!” She smiles widely. “I missed Yuna so much, I can’t believe she and her family are actually moving back. Don’t you remember, you used to be such good friends with Juyeon?”

More blurry memories of playing in the grass and dancing in the living room with a chubby little boy flash through your mind. You remember playdates that turned into study sessions in middle school, study sessions that disappeared when Juyeon moved away. And though you’d like to forget it, you remember sobbing your eyes out the day he left at the end of summer, the weather turning to fall. Sunflowers were blooming that day, wreathing your lawn in an unfairly bright ring of yellow as you wrapped him in one last hug before his father started the car and the family drove away.

“Mhm,” you only say, taking a box of cookies out of the cupboard. “I remember.”

“Won’t it be so much fun for you two to meet again?” Your mother’s smile turns suggestive as she side-eyes you. “You two were always so adorable together. Didn’t you once say he was your boyfriend in kindergarten?”

That memory makes you cringe. “Thanks, Mom, I was doing a really good job of forgetting that before you mentioned it.”

“Oh, hush.” She shoos you out of the kitchen. “You two were so cute together. I have no doubt you’ll be the best of friends again when they come back.”

“I haven’t seen him in four years, Mom,” you remind her. “People change.”

A glint comes into your mom’s eye. “Maybe so,” she replies cryptically, “but some feelings remain.”

Okay, so in hindsight, you should’ve taken a lot of what she said as a warning that your life was about to get flipped upside down by Juyeon’s homecoming. But with everything already on your mind, you more or less forget about the news until one day towards the end of summer, when your dad tells you to come straight home after your classes.

You stare up at him over your bowl of cereal. “Why?” you ask, mouth full.

“You don’t remember?” Your mom sits down just across from you. “The Lees are moving back in today, and we’ve invited them to dinner!”

Your brain buffers for a good few minutes before you finally recall your dad saying something about “dinner with the Lees when they come back” a couple weeks ago. “I didn’t know they already came back.”

“Well, they are.” Your mom’s fingers tap on the table with excitement. “You have your research, but we’ll be helping them move back in today, and then they’re coming over for dinner. We’ll probably already be home before you get back, so try not to look too messy, okay?”

Wincing, you remember the several still-recovering formic acid burns on your forearms from several days ago. You can’t hide those. “I’ll do my best,” is all you promise.

So that afternoon, instead of staying behind and chatting with a few friends, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk to the front of your house much earlier than usual. There are new cars in the driveway next door.

With the sunflowers beginning to bloom on your and your neighbors’ lawns, it feels eerily similar to the day Juyeon and his family left.

A slight wave of nervousness roils in your stomach. Quickly, as you walk up the pathway to your house, you try to untangle your hair with your fingers, straightening out your shirt as best as you can. As tired as you are, you don’t want to make a bad impression on your parents’ good friends. You don’t exactly want to look horrible in front of Juyeon, either. Even though he probably doesn’t have any idea what you look like anymore.

With a deep breath, you grip the doorknob and twist. It’s locked.

Frowning, you look down at the unmoving handle. Your parents must’ve locked it by force of habit when they came back.

So you knock.

Literally nothing could have prepared you for the boy who opens the door several seconds later to your pounding. He’s tall, muscled, with fine features and a curious look in his eyes, and he looks vaguely familiar.

For several seconds, the two of you just stare at each other, neither saying a word. As you’re trying to figure out why a really hot guy is at your house right now, a much more familiar woman appears in your line of vision, smiling widely as she holds out her arms to you. “Oh, my!” she cries, pushing past the boy to wrap you up in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in so long! You’ve grown so much!”

“Hi, Mrs. Lee,” you reply, still trying to figure out who the tall boy is. It isn’t until she starts pulling away that you realize he has her nose and her eyes.

Huh?

Then –

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You nearly stumble back into the door from shock. “JUYEON?”

. . .

Juyeon thought his feelings for you had disappeared, he really did. When he moved away and thought he was never coming back, he took the love he’d held for you for so long, put it into a box at the back of his heart, locked it, and threw the key away. And as the years slowly passed, one after another, the box slowly disappeared from the forefront of Juyeon’s mind. He never forgot about it, but memories of you eventually stopped plaguing his mind day and night.

But that box never disappeared, not really. He thought it did, thought it dissolved into nothing over the years. Instead, it stayed, small but there, waiting for the right moment to burst and flood his body with the feelings he’d so carefully packed away so long ago.

That right moment is apparently when he opens the door to see a face he really never thought he’d ever see again.

Juyeon doesn’t recognize you, not at first. At second glance, he can pick out some distinct features that stayed the same (namely the sparkle in your eyes that hasn’t changed, even after all this time away). But during those first moments when he opens the door, he just stands there, trying to figure out who this person in front of him is.

Then it hits him, and the box of feelings explodes just as his mom starts pushing him away to wrap you in a hug.

You clearly don’t recognize him, judging by the curious looks you keep giving him over his mom’s shoulder. That makes Juyeon self-conscious – he hasn’t changed that much from when he left, has he? – and the embarrassment only compounds when you stumble back into the door, eyes widening as you yell his name in shock.

So, suffice to say, the conversation between you two at dinner is almost nonexistent. You look like you want the ground to eat you alive in your seat across from Juyeon, eyes barely looking up throughout the whole meal, talking only when someone asks you a direct question. Meanwhile, Juyeon’s stuck in his head.

Why, he despairs, didn’t these feelings actually disappear? Why does he still want to look into your eyes, get lost in your gaze like he used to so many years ago? Thoughts spin in circles in his head, thoughts of how you’ve changed and how you’ve stayed the same and how, oh God, his heart still races like no tomorrow when you meet his eyes for the briefest second before looking away out of embarrassment.

Juyeon needs a moment. He needs a moment to breathe, to think, to reason himself through this whole situation, which is why he volunteers to wash the dishes after dinner. Your mom starts praising him for being a perfect son and he dutifully lowers his head in embarrassed acknowledgment, thanking the heavens that he’ll have a moment to actually think, before she then looks at you to ask, “Why don’t you help Juyeon too?” and the world starts crumbling around his feet.

In perfect tandem, the two of you start picking up empty plates and bowls and carrying them to the kitchen sink. The adults make their way to the living room, laughing and chattering loudly, which only makes the potent silence between you two more prominent.

“I can wash,” you offer awkwardly, still barely able to look Juyeon in the eye (which is perfectly fine, because he thinks he might combust if you do just that). “You can dry? If you’re all right with that.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Juyeon tries to flash a smile, hoping it isn’t too shaky (the thumping in his heart makes it feel like the world is trembling around his feet). As the water runs and you start passing plates over to him, he does his best to ignore how close you are, how easy it would be to accidentally brush your arm with his.

Silence reigns until half the dishes are dry, and then you open your mouth. “Sorry about earlier,” you blurt, embarrassment and shame visible on your face. “I, uh, didn’t recognize you at first. Freaked out for a second.”

It’s surprisingly easy to laugh at that, to laugh at a statement that’s so blatantly you. You still haven’t changed, Juyeon thinks – you’re still the same bluntly apologetic friend he was in love with four years ago. It cheers him when your lips begin to turn up at his burst of laughter, face still embarrassed but beginning to warm with some happiness. “It’s okay,” he says, drying the next plate. “I didn’t recognize you either, not at first.”

“Well, I guess we can say that we’ve both changed,” you acknowledge, finally looking up fully.

Your smile could bring legions to their knees, Juyeon thinks. It certainly stops his hands from drying the next dish – in fact, he almost drops it. Even though the curve of your lips is small and he can’t see all of your teeth, the sparkle in your eye more than makes up for it. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah.”

The two of you scrub dishes for the next few minutes in quiet again. Juyeon has no idea what you’re thinking, but he’s just trying to calm the beating in his heart.

This is not how he expected to feel when he moved back. Not at all. What he’s feeling isn’t even just everything he locked away at the end of seventh grade – somehow, the emotions have multiplied, compounded over years of neglect, and now he’s getting the full force of it.

“My mom wants us to be friends again,” you say, breaking the silence once again. “What do you think about that?”

Um, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Juyeon thinks. Do you want to be his friend again? Or are you only trying to be nice to him for the sake of your parents?

“Well.” Juyeon bites his lip. “If you want to be friends again, I’d like that. But if it’s, um, just because of your mom, we don’t have to.”

At that, you smack a rubber-gloved, soapy hand against your head, shrieking slightly when you realize there are suds in your hair. Juyeon laughs, really laughs as he hands you a towel from a nearby rack. “God, I’m a fucking mess,” you groan, wiping the bubbles from your forehead. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I don’t want to be your friend again just because of our parents, that was just the only way I could think of to bring up the topic and yeah, I should’ve thought this out, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Didn’t you get into one of the most prestigious research camps in the country?” Juyeon counters, hands moving automatically to take the towel from you and wiping off the suds himself. “You’re not an idiot.”

“Yes, I am.” You sigh. “I think it’d be nice to be friends again. If that’s fine with you.”

With your words fluttering in his heart, it takes Juyeon a good moment to realize he’s been standing with the towel pressed against your head for a full few seconds. Heat rising to his ears (he hopes you don’t see that), he quickly wipes off the last of the bubbles and returns the towel to the rack. “That’d be nice,” he echoes softly. “I’d like that.”

The smile you give him, tentative but much wider than before, makes Juyeon feel like he’s flying. He’s so far gone, he thinks, drying the last dish. He’s only seen you again for a few hours, and already your smile has him feeling some kind of way.

He’d follow that smile, he thinks. He’d follow that smile anywhere, just like one of the sunflowers on your lawn outside chasing the sun from dawn to dusk. That’s all he is, after all. A sunflower, following the light of your smile.

And as you look up, eyes scrunched as he says something to make you laugh, Juyeon doesn’t think he minds.

Not in the slightest.

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gojology · 4 years ago

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Fine Dining and Roses.

back to homepage pairing : nanami kento x gender neutral reader warnings : cursing (i think), i didn’t proof-read, fluff i guess? wordcount : 1600 a/n : this is my first nanami related anything and omg the way i headcanon him makes him appear as some sort of old man asuhjdnsajkdnsa LOL ████████████████ 100% Complete. Enjoy your game.

Crossing your legs, you nervously tap your foot against the table’s legs, you weren’t used to such a professional atmosphere. This certainly wasn’t commonplace, after all, you even saw some top names from the Japanese filming industry chatting and eating, and you swear you’re sweating bullets. Nervously wiping at your forehead with the handkerchief graciously gifted to you by the waiters, you straighten your back. “Relax.” you hear your boyfriend say, and you look up to stare at his eyes. Striking, one would almost say dead, but you see a lukewarm smile on his lips that someone would otherwise call scary, but you knew Nanami like that. Wearing a black dress suit, alongside a crisp dress shirt- not even a wrinkle in sight- he paired them with casual black slacks. The whole thing that brought the outfit together? You were almost sure it was the belt, but you wondered why he was always so over the top, no matter for what occasion. “Sorry.” you breathe out, and he chuckles dryly before taking off the black dress suit, neatly placing it over the cushioned chair. “Why would you apologize for that?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm sprinkled in his voice, and you swear your heart is just about to burst. “...I don’t know, okay?!” you reply, your cheeks warming up, you would never hear the end of this for the rest of the night, but you didn’t mind. When Nanami teased you, it made your heart flutter. Maybe it was because he was serious and cold with everyone else, and so playful and bright with you, you weren’t entirely sure. “How cute. Do you want a drink?” he questioned before picking up the menu, eyes briefly scanning it. You too pick up the menu, and your eyes damn near bulge out of your head. Expensive alcohol, expensive casual drinks, expensive everything. Was it even legal to charge 70$ for a simple bottle of sake? You weren’t even going to get into the wine, that was on a whole other level. “Well, my love? You don’t need to worry about the expenses.” he placed the menu down, calculating eyes boring into your soul. “I work a boring job just to spoil you, after all.” “These are really expensive...” you don’t lock eyes with him, even though you had dated him for a long time, you still found those eyes to be sort of scary. Not in a bad way necessarily, but just... Scary. “I’ll just have a water-” “No. You will not be having water. You always worry too much about money.” he leaned over the table, thumb placed onto your chin, slightly tipping your head upwards. The rest of his fingers caressing your skin in any way possible. His fingers were cold to the touch, and you shiver, eyes darting left and right before you build enough courage to look at him back. He’s not looking at you, rather, the menu you were holding- and he was looking at it upside down. Did this guy have anything he was bad at? “Hm, darling, didn’t you say you like sweet tea? This is fairly inexpensive, 25 dollars?” he pointed at the inscription, a picture of sweet tea right next to it. You had to admit, it did look yummy, and you swallow just now realizing how dry your throat is. “No.. I think I’ll just have water-” “Listen, love.” he looked back up into your eyes. “I know you want it, just say it already.” That was also something you always loved about Nanami, he was persistent and stubborn. You didn’t mind water, but you also didn’t mind sweet tea, you just didn’t want to create a deeper hole in his wallet. “Let’s skip appetizers.” sitting back down on his seat, he yawned before placing an arm on the table, arm rubbing against the white stainless cloth. Looking back up from your menu, you look at his sandy blonde hair that you found yourself to comb with your hands mercilessly every single night, he always was annoyed when you did it, and you can’t help but question what he would do now- especially since he had brushed it to look perfect. “I know what you’re thinking. No. You’re not going to do that. Did you pick anything yet?” “How’d you know?- You know what, nevermind.” shaking your head, you giggle. It was like he could read your mind. “Uh, this sounds good. The grilled salmon?” you were talking out of your own ass, to be truthful. Fancy restaurants weren’t your thing, and nor was the food. Salmon was familiar enough. “Wonderful choice. I knew I picked well when I started dating you, my sweet.” crossing his arms, he had an arrogant smile that he couldn’t quite hide from you, it just showed how much you mattered to him, as he didn’t hand out compliments like candy. “May I take your order? We have a special Valentines Day sale, so every dish is 10% off.” the waitress whipped out a notepad, pencil behind her ear. Even the work uniforms here were formal. “Yes, thank you ma’am.” Nanami licked his finger before flipping the page of his menu. “May we have grilled salmon, for the both of us, sweet tea, and champagne?” God, you found his polite tone so attractive for little to no reason. The waiter quickly jotted everything down, before nodding. “Alright, I’ll be back with your drinks! Please let me know if you need anything~” before walking off, and you can still hear the clacking of her heels against the floor. Once the waiter was gone from both of your vision’s, Nanami turned back to look at you, as he was admiring the architecture of the establishment. “You’re adorable.” was all that left his lips. Blushing, you awkwardly smile at him back, you weren’t good with compliments, and he knew you weren’t. He just found you so endearing. “Shut up, Nanami.” his arm reached out to touch yours, and so did yours. Briefly touching each others hands, he stared lovingly at you, and you did so back. “Ahem.” Immediately jumping up, you look at the waiter, who had a smug all-knowing grin plastered onto her face. Two drinks sat on top of a silver platter, one had a lemon slice on the side, and the other was obviously champagne. “Your sweet tea and champagne, your food will be coming out shortly.” Nodding, you turn to face Nanami yet again, praying that he didn’t see you jolt up like that, but his sly smile says otherwise. “Are you that embarrassed that the world knows your mine?” he had a neutral look on his face, and you take a second to marvel at his cheekbones and defined jawline before snapping out of your daze. “It was only one person! That’s not the whole world, Nana!” you say, growing more comfortable in your seat, surprisingly it was pretty fun being here. Taking a light sip of your sweet tea, you savor the slight lemon-y taste. “Nana. That’s a new one.” scoffing, he too took a sip of his beverage, smacking his lips together. “I like it.” “The drink or?” “Both, but I think I like you more.” Not knowing how to respond to that, you look down at your lap, and you hear him laugh a little before feeling him plant a kiss onto your forehead, whipping out his phone as he sat back down on his chair. “Hmmm... The stock market isn’t doing so well right now.” he turned his back on you, whispering to himself. The guy swore to every God out there that he was not interested in his job, but you just knew he had an interest in finances in general, which you also liked about him. He was dorky, in his own way, and it was adorable. “Blegh... Nerd talk, nerd talk.” Placing your arm on your table and resting your hand on your chin, you use your unoccupied one to have your hand seem to yap away- 4 fingers repeatedly tapping against your thumb so that it looked like a mouth. “It reels in copious amounts of money, but I fucking hate it, haven’t I told you this multiple times?” he tsked. “Language, Nanamin!” you warn, as if you could place a finger on him, ignoring his previous comment. “Yeah, yeah. Oh hey, look, she’s back with our food.” Looking back up, the first thing you realize was how god damn delicious the salmon looked, and your stomach grumbles with excitement, the other? A bouquet of roses that she was holding, rogue rose petals dancing down onto the floor, a bow loosely wrapping the flowers together. It takes a while to recognize what Nanami had done prior to this. Looking at him, your mouth opening and closing, eyes wide open, you try to speak but you can’t. He gazes back unanswering, but his eyes tell you everything you need to know, he probably doesn’t regret it. “Nanami Kento-” “Shhh...” he shushes you up, crossing his legs, before letting his sneaking smile go free. “Happy Valentines Day, darling.” “Fuck you! Is this why you didn’t let me take you out for a date this time around?” you whine. Nanami covered his mouth, but you can still hear him laughing. Truthfully you gave no fucks, and was just happy that Nanami was so romantic, but the guy was gonna be the death of you. “Love you too, darling.” Yeah, he definitely was going to be the death of you, but at this point, you didn’t care.

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years ago

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What I Thought About "Eda's Requiem" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

...

...HOW IS SEASON TWO SO GOOD?! WE'VE HAD SEVEN EPISODES SO FAR, AND EACH ONE OF THEM WAS A HIT!

Take "Eda's Requiem," for example. It's yet another episode where I have NOTHING bad to say about it! That's two weeks in a row where that happened! HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?!

HOW!

...But anyways, "Eda's Requiem." It's another fantastic episode, and I'm about to dive into explaining how and why. Just keep in mind, it's gonna require spoilers to do so, so be wary of that as you keep reading.

Now, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Eda’s Checklist and Grom Photo: Within the first second, "Eda's Requiem" perfectly sets up Eda's central conflict in the episode. Despite spending years being on her own and looking after herself, she now has two kids that she's constantly caring over. Eda can try all she wants to say that she doesn't care, and I bet she has in the past. But given the hard work she's putting into getting King and Luz what they need and having a grom photo of the three of them together pinned in her mirror, it's pretty clear that those two knuckleheads wormed their way into her heart and are never getting out.

Eda’s Worried About King and Luz Leaving: And thus, that's precisely why something like this bothers her so much. Eda inadvertently adopted two rambunctious rapscallions (Yeah, I know. I'll get to it), so the idea of them not being around her anymore is going to be terrifying. That is a situation most parents, especially mothers, can identify with. It’s called empty nest syndrome and it proves just how much Eda loves Luz and King that she can't stand the thought of her babies leaving the nest. It's yet another well-made, wholesome, found-family moment that this series continues to excel at each week, making me extra excited for more like it to come...while also readying myself for heartbreak when one of them eventually does leave Eda.

Eda and Raine’s Music: Ok, I don't know the exact instruments that were played during this episode, but I also don't care because it was all (for lack of a better term) music to my ears. Every time Eda and Raine played resulted in melodies that are so beautiful and filled with so much emotion and feeling that I'm honestly tempted to listen to them again, multiple times, on repeat. Shows rarely do that for me, as background music doesn't always draw me in as much as lyrical songs do. Usually, it takes something so extraordinarily composed to give me the desire to listen again, and that's the case here. So huge congrats to Brad Breek for doing so. Seriously, the man's been killing it this season.

Eda’s Bard Magic Causing Things to Turn to Ash: This was assuredly a surprise side-effect of the curse. The fact that Eda can sort of do magic at all was its own shock. To then reveal that a specific type can do dangerous things to people and environments is...Well, it definitely brings up its own fair share of questions. Like, how can she do this? Will she do it again, one day? And are there other types of spells that can be negatively affected by Eda's curse? We don't get answers for any of these questions, and odds are, we never will. But that's alright with me. Because if a show makes me consider these many possibilities after a brief amount of time, it is a show that has to be doing something right. Even if I don't get the answers I want, the fact that it caused such a reaction makes me less willing to care.

Raine Whispers: Hey, would you look at that. Another fun, interesting, and compelling character added to the list of this shows' other fun, interesting, and compelling characters...how is this series so good at this!?

Joking aside, Raine's pretty good. I like Raine. They could have been this super serious leader who lost all their fun after years apart from Eda, but I'm glad that they're not. There are moments when Raine takes their job as leader of the BATs seriously, as one would, but I still prefer the fact that they kept a jovial nature despite how grim their situation is. It's an admirable trait to have, and it avoids the trope of making leader characters boring just because they're the ones who have to take things seriously.

Oh, and also, Raine's Disney's first non-binary character who has a stake in the plot. This is a tremendous deal, as you don't usually see that many non-binary characters in children's animation, let alone ones that hold importance to the story. So it's pretty cool for the writers to feature Raine, as it helps several kids feel as though they're finally seen and respected. And the fact that Disney of all companies gave the thumbs up is even more impressive. I hear people say that Dana Terrace should have pitched The Owl House to more progressive networks to avoid pushback, and while I absolutely see your point, I'll have to respectfully disagree. Disney is the largest entertainment industry of all time, so if you want to make LGBTQA+ representation normalized, you gotta stop making splashes and start making waves. Because if the same company that made three racist cats in the span of a few years manages to say that being gay is a-ok, then you know there's something wrong with you. Yes, Disney ended up screwing over the show anyway. But for that one moment, when kids felt pride after seeing a character like Raine, then, in the end, it's kind of worth it.

Also, if you're still having issues with more representation like this popping up in kids' shows, then allow me to redirect you to the complaint department.

...I made that post earlier today for this bit. YOU HAVE BETTER APPRECIATED IT!

Day of Unity is meant to be a Secret: At least, that's what I got when Raine stumbled over their own words. So if it's true, then I wonder why? Why does Belos want to keep the most critical change in the Boiling Isles a secret? Does he want to make it a surprise for his grateful subjects, or does he not want to spread worry and fear amongst the wild witches? It has to be something big if he doesn't want his followers to even say the words "Day of Unity." Whatever reason he has, we most likely won't know until the future. A future that I grow more and more afraid of each week.

Hooty Eating Echo Mouse: My heart sank in that brief moment when I thought that Hooty intensely screwed Luz over in getting back home. But looking back...it is pretty funny.

Just the suddenness of Hooty eating the poor creature that Luz desperately tried to earn its trust is priceless in how shocking it was. And also, Luz's expression.

That was the look of a young girl who immediately shoved her hand down an owl demon's throat the second the scene cut away. The Owl House may not always be a hit in the comedy department, but scenes like this prove that when it's funny, it is hilarious.

Luz and King Entering the Grand Prix: Not much to discuss here. It's just a cute subplot that adds frivolity to the intensity of what's going on through Eda and Raine's story. But I will say that I love how both stories occasionally interconnect with each other through the many moments of Eda being worried about King wanting to leave to find his father and avoiding any conversation about it. It helps both plotlines feel like they belong together, without being something like "Through the Looking Glass Ruins," whereas both stories could have been in their own episode. Which is neat.

How Bard Magic Works: I really love how this season is diving into how the other magic types work. More specifically, the ones that seem a little vague. I mean, stuff like healing, potions, and plants are easy to figure out, but what does it mean when a witch's talents are construction, beast keeping, and bard magic? We've been getting a lot of clearing up lately, with bard magic looking like a witch can control their environments and enemies through the power of music. Which is fair. Music is pretty powerful in the metaphorical sense, and I actually love that it's powerful in the literal sense when in the Boiling Isles.

The BATs: Not much to comment on these three either. The BATs have the potential to have an entertaining dynamic, but they do very little in this episode that I can't say much other than I hope they make a return in the future. But I will make this claim: Amber is my favorite. I'm sorry, but her screaming "You're not our mom!" to then go, "Bye, mommy Eda" is just too precious for me not to love.

I'm a simple man who falls for cute s**t. Leave me alone.

Raeda (RainexEda): Well, EdaxCamila, you were a fun crack ship while it lasted, but I'm afraid that this is now goodbye. The current canon has provided an incredibly adorable and believable relationship that I would be a monster not to support with my whole bi-heart. It's been real.

Ok, back in serious mode: I love these two together. Eda and Raine are grown-ups, and they still act all flustered near each other as if they were still Luz and Amity's age. It's definitive proof that you're never too old to get flustered near a crush, and seeing them interact adds a sense of wholesomeness when seeing them together as well as heartbreak when they're forced apart. Plus, we get confirmation that Eda's LGBTQA+! Whether she's bi, pan, or whatever, now that we know Eda can catch feelings for someone like Raine, it's yet another case that The Owl House is the most important series to the community. Because having the main character be queer is fantastic in its own right. But having the same apply to the motherly mentor figure? That's is an extra bit of normalization that anybody would be willing to appreciate.

Unique Guard Designs: Not many fans are going to appreciate this, primarily compared to everything else this episode does perfectly. For me, I actually like that you see a few Coven Guards looking differently from the others, as it helps make them less like clones and makes it seem like anybody of any body type could be a part of the coven.

Gus Looking Uninterested when Presenting Grand Prix with his Dad: I am positive that you didn't notice this (I didn't even notice it until someone else pointed it out), but there's something to dissect here. It hints that perhaps Gus isn't as interested in his father's field of work as one might think. If he did, he would look a lot less bored and much more excited to be helping Perry Porter present the race. It could just be the race itself, but judging from Gus' expression, it really seems like the kid would prefer to be anywhere but there. And why would he have that reaction to a race that his best friend is competing in? To me, this seems like an inkling of what Gus' relationship with Perry could be, which may not actually get time to shine, what with how little wiggle room the series has now (Thanks Disney). Regardless, it is interesting to notice, and it will certainly have fans thinking for a while.

Bump Being Smug of Luz Being in the Lead: That's it. Principal Bump looking smug as his human student is beating the students of his rivals is yet another moment that proves why Bump is easily the best cartoon principal.

Darius: First of all, this guy is f**king fabulous, and I love him. *Snaps*

Second, he is definitive proof that you do NOT want to f**k around with Coven Leaders. Lilith may have had her intimidating moments, but none of them compare to the guy who can turn himself into an abomination monster where only magic that hasn't existed before can take him down. It's genuinely scary to see Darius lose control, and I fear for the day when Luz inevitably ends up in his crosshairs.

With that said, Darius' still a ton of fun! He may be threatening, but he's just a flamboyant guy that hates the idea of getting his outfit the tiniest bit dirty. And I love that. I love that these Coven Heads have actual personalities instead of being generically evil. I consider it preferable to make villains entertaining rather than blatantly scary as I'll remember the personalities first and the villainous acts last.

Eberwolf: But this one's my favorite. I told you: I'm a simple man who gets easily swayed by cute s**t. And Eber? I mean, just look at her:

She's just a cute widdle rascal! I just want to pinch her cheeks, give her a belly rub, and--

...Eberwolf is not a cute widdle rascal. She is a strong, independent woman, and I will respect her as such from this moment forward...lest I feel her wrath.

That is all. Let's move on.

Eda and Raine Attempting a Final Performance: This was the best scene of the episode. It looked gorgeous, it shows the dedication Eda and Raine have for stopping Belos, and it says so much through so little. Go back and look at how Eda and Raine regard one another when performing Eda's requiem. Through their expressions and a few short words, you know they understand that if they complete the song/spell, they probably won't make it in the end. And yet, they don't care. They both know bad stuff will happen if Belos wins, so Eda and Raine put everything to the side, both their feelings for one another and the people they leave behind if it means putting an end to a tyrant. That level of dedication...Words can't fully describe how powerful that is.

Raine Sacrificing Themselves Instead: But in the end, Raine can't do it. Not when they know the life that Eda has and the people she'll be leaving behind. It's an extra bit of nobleness to the character seeing that Raine refuses to take away a woman from two kids who need her the most. A tad bit selfish, sure, knowing what Belos has planned. But when it comes to love, the romantic, familial, or platonic, the best decisions aren't always the logical ones.

Eda Crying: Luz crying tears me up, but seeing Eda cry is a whole different level of heartbreak. Like Lilith, Eda has her emotions locked up tight, with the closest she came to weeping were those two tears in "Young Blood, Old Souls." In "Eda's Requiem," she cries but almost quickly stops herself. As if she knows that doing so isn't going to save Raine. That is...even worse than seeing Luz break down after losing Eda. The fact that Eda refuses to give herself time to mourn losing someone she loved is tragic because crying is the most natural way of showing grief. Turning that off isn't healthy, and seeing her do it with little resistance is sad to me. It's sad to see a character I love can easily shut off all emotions despite how badly she may want to embrace them. It's one of those moments that, again, by doing so little, it shows so much.

“No one watches Crystal Balls anymore. It’s all about streaming.”: Oof. Even I felt that burn towards cable.

King’s Message: King's message was the pick-me-up I needed after the heart-wrenching sadness this episode put me through a few minutes ago. Seeing King say who he is and listing all the things he loves is nothing short of adorable. On top of that, I adore that Eda willingly recorded the whole thing. She may not want King to leave, but that doesn't mean she'll sabotage the one thing he wants. Especially not after Raine gave up everything so Eda could be with her kids. The opening scene may prove how much Eda cares about a rascal like King, but this heartwarmingly sweet moment reveals just how far she'll go to make him happy.

King’s Dad Reveal: ...ok, I'll be honest, I did not think we'd get that reveal this soon. Dumb of me to say, considering the number of times I've said that these writers don't waste time getting to the s**t, I know. But still, it's pretty cool knowing that King's dad is alive and well, added with the fact that we've got a fair idea of what he looks like. At this point, it's only a matter of time before we see him figure out where the Clawthorne residence is and witness the tear-jerking moments that will follow.

King Changing his Name to King Clawthorne: Not the official adoption I was expecting Eda to make...but DANG IT, is it still diabetes-inducing levels of sweetness!

Personally, I feel like the main reason why Eda breaks down this time is not only because she shouldn't be worried about King leaving her life, but also because Raine's sacrifice wasn't in vain. Her kids really do need Eda because no matter how far apart they'll be, she will always be a part of their life...dang it, I'm going to cry too!

What those Coven patches really do: Well...that was horrifying to see.

...Writers, if you kill off the best non-binary character in animation (it's a short list, I know), we are going to have PROBLEMS!

IN CONCLUSION

"Eda's Requiem" is--surprise surprise--another A+. The emotions hit hard, the representation hits harder, Raine is a fantastic addition to the cast, and it was all surprisingly cute at times. Season Two is currently on a hot streak, constantly winning with every episode that's come out so far. When a bad episode does eventually show up (IT'S GONNA HAPPEN!), I'll be sure to sing my requiem then. For now, I'm just gonna enjoy the ride.

#the owl house #the owl house season 2 #the owl house reviews #eda clawthorne #raine whispers #raeda #king of demons #toh darius #toh eberwolf #what i thought about

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yelenasdog · 4 years ago

Text

it was a pleasure to burn (spencer reid x fem bau!reader)

genre: fluff i think even though the name is v angsty LOL it’s a literal screenplay with the amout of dialogue i wrote LMAO so idk

summary: a particularly rough and disturbing case gets to reader, and spencer and reader are brought together by this.

words: just about 6k (my longest fic ahhHH)

warnings: typical criminal minds gore and violence just up a notch, they get on a plane at the end, somebody gets ~shot~, somebody gets ~bonked~, cursing, mentions of reid’s addiction, and i think that’s it. also the reader wears reading glasses but that’s the only predetermined factor of appearance. btw i don’t think i used any pronouns in this but i apologize if i’m wrong.

a/n: LMFAO i was outside awhile ago celebrating litha with a nice lil hike and i saw a butterfly and i had just started watching cm and was like hMMm... killer who’s obsessed with symmetry??!1??!? y Es. enjoy 😼 EDIT: THERE IS SO MANY PLOT HOLES OMG FBREHJBFHEJFRE IM RBFBRE

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“Aren’t they just stunning?” The unsub spoke, keeping her eyes trained on the butterfly sitting happily on her finger. The brightly colored creature fluttered off her hand that was dripping scarlet, flying around her curly head of brown hair. Her, formerly white, blood-stained dress flowed around her as she followed it, watching in awe as it soared about. She giggled, plopping down on the grass in the middle of a circle of her victim’s pale, lifeless bodies, all of them with ironically morbid butterflies resting upon the frail skin of the corpses.

“Aren’t they, agents?”

She slanted her green eyes, gripping the grass a little harder. I flicked my tongue over my lips nervously, looking over to the lanky man on my left. He simply shrugged, just about as sure of how to handle the situation just as much as I was.

“If I knew you all were coming, I would have cleaned up, I really would have, I promise.”

We slowly walked towards her, twigs and leaves crunching under our feet. It could have been comparable to a hunter stalking its prey, but it unfortunately was quite the opposite.

6 days earlier, Quantico, Virginia

“3 bodies, all found within the last 48 hours in rural New York. So far, the first body has revealed that although it was dumped upstate, the victim was murdered in the city, and the same most likely goes for the other bodies as well. Nails well manicured, no drugs in the system. They aren't junkies, we’re dealing with upper class citizens.”

My face contorted as I took the photos from Reid’s hands, his large and tanned one surprising me by how soft it felt as it accidentally brushed against mine. I blushed like a madman, looking to see him doing the same thing. I cleared my throat getting Rossi’s attention.

“Why are we only now hearing of this?” I questioned, flipping through the images as I did so, my confusion only growing. I didn’t recieve an answer, leaving my curiosity to bloom.

“Wait, how did you say they were killed again?”

Morgan looked up, taking the photos from me. “He didn’t.”

I sighed, pushing my glasses up on my nose.

“Is there at least any correlation between the bodies and the butterflies?”

Our attention was shifted to JJ, the resident expert on the insects.

“Actually, the ones being found with the bodies are from the Amarynthis family, all native to Latin America. They weren’t there by accident so yes, they’re somehow related.”

Rossi stood up, grabbing his coat.

“Well, none of this is nearly enough for a profile, so pack your bags and tell the others, wheels up in an hour. We’re headed to New York.”

4 days earlier, F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York

“The final report from the latest victim is in, all the autopsies are clean. They show no signs of struggles, no marks, no blood, no anything. The eyes weren’t bloodshot, so suffocation is ruled out, and that was our best bet.”

I sighed, sliding the case file across the glass table to Spence as I took my seat, sinking into it and allowing myself to be consumed by its warmth.

“So what your saying is that we’re back at square one.”

I looked up at Hotch from where I sat, running my hand through my ponytail.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”

Just then, the young Doctor spoke up as he flipped through the pages.

“The eyes weren’t just not bloodshot, there was barely any blood left in any of the victims bodies, only about 3% of the volume left. The killer drained them.”

Morgan gave me a shocked expression, silently asking for an explanation.

“Which you failed to mention, Y/n.” Aaron spoke, agitation once again present in his voice.

I looked at the ceiling, crossing my arms in front of me before turning to face Hotch once more.

“Yeah, well, I thought it was obvious when I said no blood.” I stuttered out cautiously.

“On the bodies! Not in the bodies!” Morgan exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in what was in my opinion, very childish. Everyone else in the room aside from Spencer was either shaking their heads or pinching the bridge of their noses, and reasonably so.

“Look, I’m sorry I just didn’t see it in the report, plus, In the scheme of things, it just doesn’t seem to matter.”

I soon regretted my words, realizing how ill-fit they were for the current conversation I was having. Spencer looked up, tilting his head.

“Doesn’t seem to matter? How? There’s an endless amount of possibilities now that we know this. If we had known it sooner we probably could have figured out the pattern and caught the one doing this!” He harshly spewed, his voice acting like a crescendo of sorts, quiet and calm and moving towards a loud and violent tone. Tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes and I was starting to feel guilty, not to mention absolutely stupid as could be.

“I’m- I really am sorry guys, truly.”

Hotch locked eyes with me, taking a stern tone that one would usually take with a disobedient child, perhaps even Jack.

“I hope that’s a comfort to you when another body shows up. That’s their blood on your hands.”

I was frozen, the gravity of the situation taking its toll.

In the background I heard him say something to Morgan about a new profile having to be made as there were many new things to be known from this revelation. But it all went in one ear and out the other, just unpleasant white noise.

As I clumsily stumbled out of the room, I felt Reid’s eyes burning holes into the back of my brain. I was quick to turn my head to meet his glance, causing him to look down. I felt bad, the weight on my chest growing heavier from the interaction.

I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer and immediately going to google. I typed in “hypnosis” and let the info trickle in.

About 30 minutes later, I still felt absolutely horrible, but I had also put together a valuable profile in the time that had passed. I shut the newly finished file, blowing an abandoned strand of hair out from my eyes. I had to do a double take when I saw Spencer staring once more, his deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I gave him a small smile before standing up and walking to Hotch’s makeshift New York office. I pushed open the heavy door, placing the folder on his too-clean desk.

“What’s this?” He asked, taking it in his hands.

“My theory about the unsub. I think I know what she’s been doing. You can tell the team if you want, I’m not sure if they would wanna hear it from me. ”

He gave a small smile, pushing the file back over to me.

“You get the team together and I’ll get the local PD caught up. You tell them yourself.”

A few minutes later, everyone except for Reid had gathered in the meeting room. I peeked through the half closed blinds that allowed a line of vision to his desk in an attempt to locate him. He was positioned there, staring blankly at his laptop that appeared to have nothing on the screen. I knocked on the window lightly to catch his attention, his glazed over eyes looking in my direction. I tilted my head at him, silently beckoning him to join me. He only shook his in response, shaggy brown locks swaying back and forth. I sighed, frowning at his action. I turned to the group, clasping my hands in front of me.

“Everyone, this will just be a second if you’ll excuse me.”

With a raised eyebrow from Hotchner and a jab in the direction of Spencer’s workspace, I swiftly walked out of the crowded room.

“Spence, care to join us?” I asked, resting one of my hands against my hip, the other on his orderly desk.

“No, I don’t think I will. I need to try to figure this out before she finds her next victim.”

“What makes you think the unsub is a she?” I searched his eyes that had seemingly become brighter at my piqued interest in his hypothesis.

“Well, the unsub seems to be obsessed with symmetry, all the bodies being found in obscure yet symmetrical positions. This could suggest she had some sort of deep rooted insecurity, possibly from some sort of bullying from growing up in a small town where she was looked at as a superior for subpar looks. She moved to the big city, expecting a big break. Instead she was shunned for being less than average. She grew frustrated and as a result, she began her killing spree. The stresser could have been one too many insults that made her snap. Plus, that would account for the butterflies left on the scenes that are used in modern examples of both femininity and symmetry.”

I smiled widely at his words.

“What- why are you smiling, what are you smiling at?”

I tapped his desk, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. I headed back towards the conference room, looking over my shoulder.

“Because, I’m glad we’re on the same page, Dr.”

——————

“So, our girl, as Dr. Reid has explained to us, is obsessed with her appearance. She’s an organized killer, no mistakes and no signs of blood or anything of the sort on scene. She has practice, she does this sort of thing every day. She is most likely in the age group of 23-30, and has a job in the cosmetic industry, our guess is in plastic surgery. She probably volunteers weekends at local butterfly sanctuaries or zoos, finding comfort in their perfection that those in her life, or formerly in her life, cannot and could not provide.”

“Which would explain to her easy access to non-native species of the insects. She has an absolute infatuation with symmetry, which yet again, links the butterflies on the crime scene to her MO.”

Spencer and I were vividly explaining our shared theory to the team, as well as local law enforcement. He was excited by his discovery and the lead on the killer, and his energy was contagious.

“She kills without remorse and out of jealousy, picking victims who all have one thing in common.”

Spence pointed to all of the images pasted on the board in the center of the room, all of them split in half and reflected, creating a perfect mirrored portrait.

“They all have perfectly symmetrical faces, as well as strong jawlines and high cheekbones. As most of these victims are models or those searching to start a modeling career, we believe she is luring them in with a photographer trope, promising to make their dreams come true.”

I nodded, taking a moment to study Reid’s own sharp yet somehow soft features. I allowed my eyes to wander over his sunken in, kind, and curious eyes; his pillowy pink lips that are in dire need of some chapstick.

“Agent?”

I turned my head, snapped back to reality by Rossi calling my name.

I gave a tight and quick smile, returning to the topic at hand and tactics to catch the unsub. But of course not before Emily gave me a crooked smile, resulting in me rolling my eyes.

“Physically, she’s nothing special, most likely a mundane appearance or one with quite obvious surgical changes. No in between. Check all of the plastic surgeon offices in the area for both employees who fit our description, as well as a patient who has gotten any serious facial mod operations. Do the same for any weekend volunteers at local zoos and animal sanctuaries, specifically working with any insects.”

It was an NYPD officer then that spoke up this time, raising her hand briefly.

“But, you still haven’t mentioned how she’s killing them?”

“Hypnosis.” Reid and I both spoke at the same time. He looked to his black Converse, sliding his hands into his pockets. I observed the room and all of the skeptical faces filling it.

“Even if it may sound far fetched, we saw no signs of anything that indicated a struggle or even any marks or wounds. This led us to believe that some form of hypnosis was used to allow her an easy kill. This means extra caution will have to be taken when actually handling the unsub. Even though we’re positive she’s using hypnosis, which method she is using to actually kill them after the fact is what we’re unsure of.”

I turned to Spencer, handing off the explanation to him.

“We think that because of her whole thing with symmetry, she wouldn’t want to disturb the natural state of the victims and their faces, even if she would do the same to her own.”

“Which means?” JJ asked, her blue eyes slanted and glossed lips left ajar.

“It means that the unsub wouldn’t want to leave any large marks like stab or gunshot wounds.” I nodded at Prentiss, who had made the assumption, confirming she was correct.

“With her presumed background in plastic surgery, we believe she was able to make small incisions that made no visible scars. We’re having the coroner look back over the bodies as we speak.”

“She drains the body’s blood 97% of the way before closing the holes up. What she does with the blood, we don’t know. Another Eddie Mays, perhaps.”

I looked over to Spencer, raising my brows at his comparison. He was quick to defend himself, shaking his hands left to right and mouthing “No” while simultaneously shaking his head the same way, something he seemed to be doing often as of late.

After we had finished consulting with any officers who had remaining questions, we branched off to conduct our own routine investigations. We found that the only thing they all had in common apart from the symmetrical faces, is that they all had visited the Central Park Zoo in the 24 hours before they were killed. We received a phone call from Garcia not long after we put together those pieces, being alerted that there was one girl who had, in her words, “Hit every mark there was to hit, sunshine.”

“Her name is Alessia Copelas, she works weekdays as a surgeon's assistant at Premier Cosmetic, and weekends at Central Park Zoo from 4-8 p.m.”

I smiled at the new info from the blonde bombshell known as Penelope, turning to Reid who was still looking at me quizzically.

“Alright, thanks babes, you’re the best.” I spoke into the phone, a comical “Mwah!” made from either side as we hung up.

He shook his head, keeping the odd look on his face.

“I swear, you guys have a weirder relationship than her and Morgan.”

I laughed, sliding my phone into my back pocket.

“Oh, please, Spence.” I gingerly placed a hand on his cheek, patting it twice.

“You’re just jealous.” I made a pouty face, letting my hand linger before walking off. “Come on, we’re going on a field trip.”

“Where to?” He asked, gripping the door frame, using it as leverage to swing himself closer to me. He took long and quick strides, catching up to me in no time.

“You like animals, right?”

———————

4 Days Earlier, Central Park Zoo, New York

As soon as we entered the zoo, our ears were filled with the sounds of the loud screeches of birds and monkeys alike. Reid covered his ears, cringing and making his displeasure known with an “Ahh!”

I smiled at his geeky behavior, admiring the animals in the enclosures. I paid special attention to a particularly impressive species of tarantula, leaning down to admire them. A few moments later I looked to my left and saw Spencer doing the same thing.

“Did you know that arachnids have asthma which is why they don’t run for extended periods of time, similarly to cheetahs?”

“Yes I did.”

His face scrunched up in an adorable manner, causing an involuntary giggle to fall past my lips.

“Well did you know that-��

“Ma’am?”

I turned to see a young woman with flaming red hair and a freckled face smiling at me, her green collared uniform top complimenting her eyes of a different shade wonderfully.

“Oh, hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

Her expression shifted to a more confused one, her smile not leaving her face.

“What can I do for you two?”

“Is there an Alessia Copelas that works here, maybe volunteers on the weekends?” Spencer asked, his puppy dog eyes immediately warranting a response.

“Yeah, she volunteers here, she seems nice. Is she helping with an investigation?”

“Well we think that she may have some part in a series of murders.”

Her smile disappeared this time, turning into a cement frown as panic flooded her body.

“Oh God, was she- Is she a killer? Have I been working with a killer for all this time? I mean, I never had any shifts with her but from what I heard I thought she was so sweet-“

“Look,”

Reid glanced down to her name tag that read “Lillian” before meeting her eyes. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, a nervous habit of his I’d picked up on.

“Lillian, we aren’t sure if she’s the killer we just needed to get a feel on her and get some information regarding her personal life.”

She started frantically nodding her head, more trying to convince herself she was okay rather than ourselves. I looked over her shoulder at some exhibits, thinking to myself how this would end up being a waste of our time if this poor girl couldn’t get a grip on herself.

I was soon proven wrong when I looked over to see a young girl wearing an identical uniform to Lillian, probably somewhere between 23 and 24. She had untamed chocolate locks with bangs that stopped just above the shoulder, blemishes covering her T-Zone, and a rounded face to go with it.

The cherry on top? Under her arm she carried a small enclosure with what appeared to be amarynthis meneria, the same butterflies found on the victims.

I tapped Reid on the shoulder once as discreetly as possible, catching his attention. I heard him mutter a small “Oh God” before he told Lillian to walk away calmly and quickly. She ignored his request, turning to look at Alessia, letting out a blood curdling scream and sprinting the other direction.

“Shit.” I cursed, beginning to walk towards Alessia, Spencer by my side. I smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. Reid spoke up as we got closer.

“Hello, do you by any chance-“

wham!

“Spence!” I exclaimed, reaching down to help him up from where he had fallen from being whacked by the 4’2 pyscho that was Alessia Copelas.

“Did she get away?”

I turned to see her gone, the only sign she was even here being the forming bruise on the Dr’s face.

“Yeah. She did. I’m sorry, Reid, that was really stupid of me.” He shook his head, running his own hand over the raw skin.

“It’s fine, I would have done the same for you.” He looked up, and I wasn’t sure if it was my school-girl esque crush on him or the fact I just had another experience with a serial killer, but my heart was racing nonetheless.

————————

F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York, 1 Day Earlier

The stress levels in the room were high.

Despite our best efforts, several more bodies had been found, New York’s narcissists were in a state of panic, and the spirits of the BAU were down to say the least.

“What? Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed, looking at Hotch in disbelief.

He rolled his chocolate eyes, fanning the folder containing the new information we had gathered on Alessia.

“I wish I was, Y/n. She’s off the grid completely, her apartment is empty, phone and credit cards have been deactivated, and the surgeon’s office hasn’t heard from her for 5 days. And the media has decided to give her the name ‘Butterfly Baron’, so she’s probably been fueled even further. We need a new lead before she strikes again.”

I scoffed, standing up and pushing my chair away.

“This is unbelievable. How many times do we have to reinforce the idea to local PD! Especially when the unsub is a self absorbed psycho, do not give them a name! God, I really cannot fathom this.”

I reached up, letting my hair down from where I had messily thrown it up upon my arrival to work that morning.

I stormed out of the room, my heels clicking behind me. I ignored Hotch’s calling of my name, making my way to the closest restroom.

I went in, locking the door behind him. I ran my hands through my roots, tugging just enough to where it hurt.

Turning the water to the left all the way, I splashed it from the stream leaving the faucet on to my face. I scratched my fingernails against the skin, wiping away the tears that had escaped.

“This is all your fault, y/n.” I whispered at myself in the mirror, doing my absolute best to engrain the message in my brain. I had my head hung in shame when a knock rang out.

“Y/n?”

It was Spencer. My mind started going a million miles a minute, thinking about why he could be there. With my voice raised a few octaves, I tried to scrape up a response.

“I’ll be out in a few, Spence.”

It was quiet for a split second, leaving me to foolishly dance around the idea that he had left me to wallow in my sorrowful thoughts.

“Y/n, Hotch wanted me to check on you. Are you ok?”

My heart slightly sank at the idea that he might’ve just come to check on me because he himself was worried. I discarded the thought, bringing myself back.

“Y/n can you please answer me? If you don’t open the door I’m gonna send in JJ or Emily.”

I sighed, wiping under my eyes where my mascara had smudged, begrudgingly walking over to the door. Just as my hand landed on the silver handle, his voice that was constantly playing in my head echoed out once more.

“Y/n, please? I need to know you’re okay. I’ll come in there myself.”

A soft smirk graced my face as I turned the handle to reveal a worried looking Spencer.

“Y/n, oh God, you had me worried.”

He was quiet when he spoke and his hair looked messy, like he had been running his slender fingers through it in a stress filled state.

I sniffled, attempting to still keep back tears that were still threatening to spill.

“I’m alright, Spencer. Really, I’m fine.”

He gave me a small smile, his eyes meeting my own.

“I know, it’s just that when I had my Diludad problem,” he hesitated.

“I would lock myself in bathrooms to shoot up, and I know you aren’t having a problem like that but I just was worried about you- what are you doing?”

I cut off his rambling by throwing my arms around his middle. He tensed, but quickly melted. He wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and my waist, laying his head on mine.

“Y/n, I promise you, you’re doing your absolute best to stop Alessia. We wouldn’t even be where we are right now if you hadn’t made the connections. Those deaths are not your fault.”

My tears finally began to cascade like a waterfall, staining his shirt.

“I know, but it’s just like it is all my fault! I could have paid closer attention, or-or, I could have went after her at the zoo, it’s all my fucking fault, Reid.”

I sobbed into his shirt, my hand gripping his shirt like my life depended on it. Like if I let go I would fall into a deep, deep, endless hole.

His hand on my waist moved up to cradle my head.

“It’s not, I promise you-“

He was cut off mid sentence by the ringing of his phone.

“I am so, so sorry-”

I pulled away, breifly touching under my nose with my wrist, then moving a hair behind my ear.

“Nope, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Our words almost had overlapped each other as we clambered to fight the tension that had risen. I closed my eyes, tilting my head up, thinking about how unprofessional yet intimate our previous position had been. How wrong, yet how right it felt.

I kept running the moment through my head, the feeling of his warm figure encasing mine on replay.

His phone call played as background noise to the film playing in my brain, his voice calming me to an extent.

“Yeah, we’re on our way. Thanks, Morgan.”

He closed the phone with a snap, also snapping me out of my trance, putting the movie on pause.

“They’ve got a hit. Copelas was seen dropping by her old apartment.”

And for the first time since that Goddamn case had started, I smiled genuinely.

“Let’s go get her.”

————————

15 Minutes Prior, Central Park, New York

“Hotch?”

“Yes?” He looked back from where he was driving, following our lead in a rushed manner.

“What will we do if she...” I trailed off.

“Hypnotizes one of us?” He finished for me. I nodded solemnly.

The look on his face was conflicted and it took him a moment to come up with a response.

“We kill her before we have to kill one of our team members.”

He saw a look of uncertainty on my face and spoke up once more.

“And that’s an order.”

I nodded again, making eye contact with him through the rear view mirror. I fell back into my seat, closing my eyes briefly.

After a few more minutes on the road, we had arrived.

The doors all slammed to the SUVs, one after the other as we stepped out.

“The letter said that she would be here, somewhere here.”

The voice of Morgan was channeling through my earpiece, referring to the letter found at her apartment that she had left just for us.

“We ordered evac on citizens, correct?”

The unsure voice of JJ was also heard through the earpiece, her uncertainty quite unusual to hear.

“Yes, it was the first thing we did, Jayj.”

I whispered, a sly smirk from Spencer forming at my behavior.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

snap!

Our senses adapted, becoming dialed to 11 at the sound of a twig snapping under someone's feet.

“Was that you?” I mouthed to Spencer. He shook his head no and I silently cursed to whatever force was listening.

I nodded, which he then reciprocated, the pair of us slowly walking towards the source of the sound after he did.

“They’re going to remember me, I’ll go down in history.”

The voice was sing-songy and quiet, floating through the air. I took a shaky breath, continuing my steady pace.

My breathing momentarily halted soon after.

Different variations of “Oh my God”s, and loud gasps from almost everyone on the team flooded my ear canal at the horrifying sight in front of us.

Red. So much of it.

“Guys, I think we know what she’s been doing with the bodies’ blood.”

“No shit.” I muttered under my breath.

She was bathed in the blood, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Alright everyone, I want you to approach her as quietly as possible, Morgan, if you get the chance, corner her.”

Hotch’s voice was a stark contrast to her own, Derek’s response all the same.

—————————

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“But Agents, you still haven’t answered my question. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Alessia Copeleas, FBI, come on, get up, lets go.”

Derek’s voice was stern, not asking, but demanding that Alessia come with us.

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that, Agents.”

She stood up abruptly, causing all of our weapons to rise. The sun reflected off of the silver metal of Reid’s gun, sparkling in a stunning way that caught me off guard.

We all were trying to act as if we were in total control of the situation, but we could tell that us nor Copelas really believed that. Her words were her weapon, and this was the one time where words could hurt, but sticks and stones had virtually no power.

“Take another step and we will have no hesitation to fire.”

She smirked, rolling her eyes.

“If you do, will I be famous you think? You think they’ll hear about me back home?”

Her curls softly blew in the wind, making her appear almost harmless, maybe even endearing, if it wasn’t for the hardening coat of human blood soaking her clothes and seeping from her skin.

“Is that what you want? The kids back home and everyone here to hear about you? You want ‘Butterfly Baron’ written on every billboard in Times Square, your picture painted in museums, films to be made in your honor?” Reid was the one who spoke up this time, his voice remaining strong. Her eyes shone with a sickening excitement at what he said.

“You want to be famous?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Too bad.”

My eyes widened, surprised at the detour the conversation had taken.

“What-what do you mean?”

“Please, the only thing people will hear about is a sad, boring little girl from a small town who killed to feel better about herself. They’ll forget about you in a week, who knows, maybe they’ll even grow an infatuation with your town, someone you went to school with may get as lucky as to catch their big break!” He laughed, while Alessia looked absolutely devastated.

“You? You’ll be a nobody.”

“That’s not true! I’ll go down in history, and they won’t! I’m the fucking butterfly baron for hells sake! All these people?” She gestured towards her field of bodies.

“You won’t remember their names, maybe not even their pretty faces, but me? I’ll live forever.”

Her nostrils flared and she strode over to Reid with purpose. The safety on my glock clicked off, but Spencer motioned for me to wait. So I did.

“You know, Agent-“

“It’s Doctor.”

This visibly agitated her even more as she started her sentence over again.

“Doctor, you have a beautiful bone structure. Absolutely perfect. Symmetrical, not to mention just flat out stunning.”

A glaze formed over Spencer’s honey eyes at her words. He lowered his gun momentarily before turning towards me, Copelas doing the same.

“And you, Agent. Wow. I feel like I’m in an art exhibit, you’re gorgeous. I think the Doctor man here would agree.”

As he lifted his revolver at me, the situation became all too real as I understood what was happening.

I either had to shoot the man that I was struggling to admit I was beginning to love, or died at the hands of the very same man.

Tears flooded my eyes, all safeties were turned down, and all guns were pointed at Reid.

“Spence, please.”

My voice was weak, something that seemed to bring Alessia lots of joy.

She laughed before talking again, commanding Spencer.

“Pathetic, really! Spence”, she mocked,“shoot her.”

“No!”

bang!

whack!

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

Present Day, Somewhere In The Sky, The Jet

I opened my eyes from where I had been tackled to the ground by Hotch, surveying my surroundings to see Alessia laying on the grass, the source of her gunshot wound non-distinguishable from the previous blood on her body.

I looked to the right to see where Spencer had crumpled to, his frame bent in a discombobulated position.

“Spencer!” I cried out, crawling over to him like some sort of dog,

“What happened to him?”

“Y/n, he was going to shoot you-“

“I don’t care you should have let him!”

I cradled his head in my lap, allowing my pent up tears to fall.

“Y/n?”

My eyes snapped open for real this time, my mind calmed at the sight of Spencer sitting next to me on the couch, gently shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me from my nightmare.

“Spencer! Sorry, was I too loud?”

He chuckled, gesturing to the rest of the sleeping plane around us.

“You’re fine, I wasn’t sleeping, I decided to reread ‘Fahrenheit 451’ for nostalgia purposes. And you weren’t that loud, you just looked like you were having a bad dream.”

I chuckled at the not-so outlandish idea in an attempt to diminish it from his mind and move on.

“I’m fine. But fun fact, I did have nightmares after reading ‘The Veldt’. Seriously, I don’t get how you can just reread Bradbury’s stuff all the time.”

The genius scoffed, starting a rant on how Ray Bradbury’s storytelling was just classic literature and deserved to be reread, thus successfully changing the topic as I hoped my statement would. Although soon after, he caught on much quicker than I would have liked him to.

“And not to mention, The Veldt alone could be seen as a forewarning to the 21st century and beyond, even Bradbury himself supported that interpretation-‘

I gave him a tired smile, enjoying his rambling like I always did.

“-and you totally just got me to change the subject.”

“I was wondering when you were gonna catch up.”

“Hey!”

He laughed as I rested my head on my hand, trying to fall back asleep.

“Really, I can tell those nightmares are bad. What’s going on?” He questioned, his tone empathetic and compassionate.

“It’s nothing, Reid. I just keep seeing in the park, when Alessia got shot and you-you got hurt but instead of getting up like you did in real life, you just…”

I trailed off, not wanting to relive the negative dream any longer for fear of the tears that were pricking my eyes escaping.

“It’s okay, that didn’t happen, I’m right here.”

He pulled me into a hug, allowing me to bury my head in the crook of his neck, his warmth consuming me once more, a sequel to the film from earlier.

“I know, but what if it hadn’t?” I asked as I pulled away.

He shook his head, reaching for his wallet.

“In this job, this course of work, we can’t focus on ‘what if’s’. In this job, we also get nightmares, all of us. It happens.”

He slid a picture over to me, it was of a happy family. The edges were worn from years of being carried, but the picture seemed loved.

“Gideon gave me that when my nightmares started. He told me about how those families we save everyday, and how that’s what makes what we do worth it. And I know you didn’t know Gideon personally, or the work on the specific case with that family, but I want you to have it anyway-“

I cut him off by throwing my arms around his neck, attempting to speak despite being muffled by his fluffy sweater.

“Thank you, Spence. Truly.”

I smiled, and I imagined he was doing the same.

“No problem y/n. Anytime.”

I moved my legs over to be tucked underneath my arms, leaning into Reid. He wrapped his arm around me, also leaning in. We both managed to fall asleep for the remainder of the ride in our state of content, but not before he managed to sleepily call out my name.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“When we land do you wanna go on a date or somethin’?”

I smiled at him, separating from his form just long enough to see that beautiful face of his.

“Without a doubt.”

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

AHAHAHHAHAHAHA I’M WAY TOO HAPPY WITH THAT LMAOOO but anyway chile-

i don’t have some long ass paragraph to write this time omg wig, i’m just proud asf of my work for once (except for the zoo part ngl kinda didn’t like it😳)

😛✨vibes✨ love u, xx hj

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friendofhayley · 4 years ago

Photo

I’m back after my hiatus from fanfiction, to give y’all the best multifandom recs of the fics I read this month. Shoutout to all content creators who helped us live to see the close of this year. This fic includes 15 fics for Sterek, Larry, Winteriron, and Geraskier. The starred ones put me through heaven and hell *chef’s kiss*.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

1. Six Letter Word for Romance by @troubleiwant | domestic kink - omg there’s only one bed - soft Derek - oblivious idiots in love - 6k

Stiles definitely starts off thinking it’s fucking hilarious that Derek-sourwolf-Hale does crosswords and cares about scuffs on his furniture.

But at a certain point, and he can’t pinpoint exactly when, “fully functional adult couple” somehow becomes a massive fetish of his. Derek in sweats and bare feet, nudging his glasses up his nose while he does the Sunday crossword? Unff. Derek filling out forms to get some renovations on his property approved? Oh God, yes. Derek putting away groceries and bitching that the corner store was out of the right type of Greek yogurt? Take me now, Stiles thinks, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth.

This can’t be normal.

2. *Dirty Little Secret* by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | Cora & Stiles bffs - no one can resist the Stilinski charm - celebrity Derek - human au - 91k

“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

3. Can You Feel A Whole New Part of Your World? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | i genuinely don’t look at authors names i just click i am sorry for spamming you but you write too good - neighbors Sterek - emotionally mature Stiles - the ideal fluffy world you’d want to live in - 53k

Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbours had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.

Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.

“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”

4. Theory of Overprotective Canines by @petals42 | derek can turn into wolf - oblivious Stiles - future fic - mutual pining - 11k

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Larry (One Direction)

5. **The Changer and the Changed** by @homosociallyyours | literally the best fic of all time i want to live in there - girl direction - NYC ‘70s au - trans Zayn - the girls are so lovely - 59k

It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians.

Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love.

When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene.

6. others i’ve seen might never be mean (but they would never do) by @cherrylouvol6 | aaaaaaaa it’s lesbian When Harry Met Sally !!! - rom com - girl direction - coming out and first times - really great sex - 20k

Louis sighs.

“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?”

“That I’m naive and neurotic and would be hard pressed to ever find someone who could put up with me?” Harry snaps.

7. some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed | aaaaaa this story took me apart and back together again just like Louis and Harry - urban fantasy au - second chances - exes to friends to lovers - hurt/comfort - 25k

Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.

Back then.

8. we can take the long way home by @eleadore | i usually don’t rec my porn but there’s so much feels in this one - canon-divergent - kink discovery - friends to lovers - this was written in 2015 as a future fic but it felt like it was taking place now so good job - 27k

“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.

Winteriron (MCU)

9. **Dig No Graves** by @missaphelion | Tony finds out about his parents right after winter soldier au - Tony Stark has a heart - Bucky heals with bots and lots of sugar - slow burn - 142k

"I'm here to kill you, Terminator," Tony said slowly, "does that compute?"

The soldier looked up at him with wide blue eyes and no expression. "Okay."

Tony froze. "Okay," he echoed. "I tell you I came here to kill you and your response is 'okay'?"

10. A Rifling Matter by Penndragon27 | Winter Soldier has such a big crush on Tony’s weapons, he escapes Hydra au - identity porn - pining Bucky - fluff and angst - Winter Soldier is a fanboy and it’s cute - 37k

All the Asset knows is fighting, killing.

He also knows a good weapon when he sees one and Stark Industries... they make some great weapons.

11. *Winter is Coming (aka Fifty First Avengers Dates)* by @tisfan & @everyworldneedslove | enemies to friends to lovers to 50 first dates - pining Bucky - Tony gets amnesia - no Steve bashing but he’s a little bit of an ass - mental health issues - 109k

Bucky Barnes is still mostly The Asset, and he's pretty sure Hydra is going to come back for him soon, so in the meantime he's just going to keep an eye on the Avengers for them. But then Clint spotted him hiding in the shadows, so Tony came out and dragged Bucky back to the Tower, threw him in the shower, and fed him cheeseburgers.

Now The Asset is having anomalous feelings. In his pants.

Geraskier (The Witcher)

12. *no reason to run* by @yoursummerfrost | different meeting au - only one bed but camping - cursed Jaskier - soft Geralt!!!! - poly negotiations - 61k

"You'll change your mind one day," says the innkeep. "The road can't love you back."

What a strange way to flatten something so beautiful, Jaskier thinks. What a small way to love.

13. *He Fell into a Faerie Ring* by @geraltnoises | Jaskier gets bardnapped after the fight au - non-human Jaskier - soft Geralt - Jaskier encourages people to be kind and becomes a god - emotionally mature Geralt - 57k

Traders are a gossiping sort. If there was a scandal within the noble houses of Posada, you’d hear about it in Cretegor by the end of the week. So, the quick spread of a rumor about a little village in the Kestrel Mountain range was not at all surprising. What was surprising was the story that the traders wove. They said that Luibhtorrach, a sad, ghost of a farming town, had miraculously become a hub for trade, as if overnight. Their lands unbelievably fertile and brimming with crop. Even stranger, each and every one of Luibhtorrach’s people professed that their good fortune was the work of a mysterious beast they’d claimed as their personal deity. Most recent news foretold of their plans to throw a midsummer festival celebrating this newfound god. In preparation, silken blue banners were erected in every corner of the town, each bearing the symbol of their new patron: A delicate dandelion wrapping around a golden sun.

14. Barking Up the Wrong Tree by KHansen | 5+1 things - I’m worried about Geralt’s skills - non-human Jaskier - monsterfucker Geralt - crack treated seriously - 11k

Geralt is 100% certain that Jaskier is a vampire.

He's 100% proven wrong.

15. Bardic Idyll by Lisztful | fake relationship - Geralt is soft and oblivious - pining - fluff and angst - Jaskier you can’t show your emotions mainly through song! - 13k

Jaskier is certain he can win the Continent's annual bardic competition, but he needs to be accompanied by a dashing romantic companion in order to enter. Enter Geralt, who is definitely, for sure, only interested in the free food, and not at all in staring lovingly into Jaskier's eyes.

#monthly fic rec #fic rec #sterek fic rec #larry fic rec #winteriron #geraskier #larrie hijinks #witcher #mcu

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch48: The Terrible Twos Part 1: More?

Intro: In the fourth year since the snap, Jamie enters the terrible twos.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So this chapter is kind of a little different to the others here really, as it’s almost like a collection of long drabbles detailing their life over 2022. And just a little reminded, Phobias, Steve admits to Katie he has a fear of clowns…keep that in mind! Also linked to this chapter is a smutty little One Shot- Got You By The Chain- Guest writer @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 47

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

April 2022

By the fourth anniversary of the Snap, it finally looked like society was moving on. There was still a lot to do, but most schools and Universities were fully functioning, TV shows and Movies were back in production, restaurants and shops seemed to have gotten back to some level of ‘normality’. Whilst places weren’t as buzzing as they had been, it seemed like people were finally taking those baby steps forward, which was the mantra Steve continued to preach at his support groups.

If only it was that easy to follow your own advice.

Steve, and the rest of those of them who had fought Thanos and been spared, would be lying if they said their failure wasn’t still at the back of their minds. But nothing short of a time machine was going to bring any of those stones back. They had to learn to live with it, and for the most they did, their lives had moved on. Tony, Pepper, Steve and Katie had become parents, so they had something to focus on. Natasha, however, was all over the place, focussing even more with Rhodey on trying to track down Clint, the archer having given his vigilante alter-ego a name- Ronin-the word taken to be an idiomatic expression for “vagrant” or “wandering man”, someone who is without a home- or so Katie’s research told them.

‘Ronin’, was still leaving trails of death and destruction all over the place and both Steve and Katie had tried to coax Natasha out of pursuing him too much. As usual, she completely ignored them and had also point blank refused to attend any of the support groups. In the end Steve had stopped asking.

He and Katie found most of their time taken up dealing with Jamie who had entered what the parents now knew why everyone dubbed the terrible twos. He was a nightmare, not necessarily due to bad behaviour but he was so boisterous and such a rough and tumble little boy thanks to the half of him that held the super serum and he was ridiculously clever too. He was constantly up to mischief, which was why now, one Thursday morning Steve was stood in the kitchen, an equal mixture of exasperation and fear flooding his system as he gazed up at his son who was once again sat on top of their large stainless steel fridge freezer, about a foot out of his dad’s reach. This was his favourite activity at the moment and neither Steve nor Katie had no idea how he kept getting up there.

The soldier was currently torn between grabbing a chair to climb up to get him down and being rooted to the spot, not wanting to move in case the tot threw himself off which he was prone to doing.

“Jamie, please come on.” Steve sighed.

“No.” “I’ll give you a cookie if you get down.” Steve pleaded, cursing inwardly at the fact he was resorting to bribery. Jamie cocked his head to one side, clearly weighing up his options and then his face split into a grin.

“Nom!” He grinned and then in a flash launched himself forward.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed, forgetting his language as he stepped back, catching the toddler in his arms, heart in his mouth. Jamie giggled as his dad’s strong arms caught him.

“Don’t do that!” Steve sighed. “Please.” He added weakly.

“Fuck.” Jamie repeated with a laugh and Steve groaned.

“No, we don’t say that.” “Why?”

“It’s a bad word.” Steve explained setting him on the counter in front of him. “Only momma and daddy can say that. And even then we shouldn’t.” He reached for the kitchen cupboard, undoing the child lock before he grabbed the jar and held out a cookie for Jamie.

“Fankoo, Daddy”

“You’re welcome, but that doesn’t mean every time you climb something you get one.” Steve looked at him sternly.

Jamie stared back at him, his mouth full and Steve knew they boy didn’t care one iota about the utter horror he had just put him through. A fact further emphasised when the tot raised his right hand and held his forefinger and middle finger to his eyes, moving them towards his dad.

“Yeah, I am watching you, pal.” Steve arched an eyebrow at him, mentally cursing Tony once again for teaching his son ridiculous habits. “You done?”

Jamie nodded. “More?” “Not a chance.” Steve snorted, lifting him down off the counter and herding him into the living room where he distracted his boy successfully for an hour and a half or so watching Frozen, his current favourite Disney film whilst he checked over his notes for the support groups he was holding later on that afternoon. Then he gave Jamie his lunch, meals being the most painless part of his routine as the kid ate anything you put in front of him, and they set off to meet Katie at the tower.

“Hi Mr Rogers, Hi Jamie!” Soraya, Katie’s PA, greeted them holding up her hand. Jamie leant over the desk in his father’s arms and gave her a hi-five.

“Hi, Sowaya!” He beamed and she smiled back before she turned to Steve. “She’s in the office but you might wanna wait a few seconds before you go in.” Steve was about to ask why, when he heard his wife’s angry voice through the closed door and he grimaced. Someone was getting an absolute earful and he didn’t envy them one bit.

That someone, was Jack Thompson, Katie’s Finance Manager. As part of Stark Industries programme to help orphaned older teenagers post the snap, Katie had given the go head for each major department to recruit interns to give them a spring start and a means to fund themselves. Only for the third day in a row now she had caught Jack ordering his intern to make coffees for the entire office. Not that it wasn’t part of an intern’s initiation, she understood that, but when she had drilled the girl a little more, it seems that was all she was doing, along with photocopying.

“That is not what the programme is about!” She blazed as she leant forward over her desk, Jack lounging in the chair at the other side. He raised an eyebrow at her and that made her bristle even more. “Sorry, I’m not sure what is amusing you about this situation.”

“Nothing, Mrs Rogers.” He shrugged back. “I just think you’re overacting slightly.” “Oh do you?” She asked, her voice raising further. “Well here’s an overreaction for you, you get that girl some proper jobs and activities to work on or you’ll be out of here faster than my two year old can scale the fridge.” Jack frowned

“Which is fast” Katie clarified, realising that there were all sorts of things wrong with that analogy.

“Things were a lot different with your brother at the helm.” Jack looked at her. Katie crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

“Well I’m not my brother. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave your resignation letter on my desk.”

Jack eyeballed her for a moment before he nodded. “Understood, loud and clear.” “Good.” She stood up whilst he did the same and she smoothed down her white A-lined high wasted skirt and white blouse. Her black stilettoes clicked on the wooden flooring of her office and she opened the door, nodding out of it. Jack left, not even glancing around until a small voice rang out across the room.

“Momma shouted!” Jamie giggled gleefully. Jack stopped, looked at the boy, then to Steve who simply smiled at the man before he stalked away.

“Jerk.” Katie mumbled under her breath before she beamed at her boys. “Hi!”

“HI Momma!” Jamie grinned, wriggling until Steve popped him down and he ran to his mom to give her a hug. Steve had a split second to perve on his wife, because damned she looked good in that office outfit, before Jamie was in her arms, his mom not caring if his shoes or hands were going to dirty her clothes. She placed a kiss to his cheek as Steve walked towards her dropping one of his own onto her lips.

“Yuk!” Jamie pulled a face.

“So what had he done to earn himself the full wrath of my baby momma?” Steve jerked his head towards the door and Katie groaned.

“Just being awkward when it comes to the interns. I don’t think he’s going to last much longer.” “Good.” Soraya shot. “He’s a creep.”

Katie grinned. “So you tell me.”

Soraya shrugged. “I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

“Hmm.” Katie pondered, before she shrugged. “What’s my diary like for the rest of the day?”

“You’re clear now until four and then you have a conference call with a couple of potential authors for SIP.”

“Why don’t you do it from home?” Steve looked at her. “You were here at seven this morning.” Katie pondered before nodding. Placing Jamie on the floor she headed back into her office and grabbed her jacket and her bag, before linking her hand round her son’s.

“If anyone needs me, can you tell them to email or call my mobile, please?”

Soraya nodded “See you tomorrow, Mrs Rogers. Bye Captain, bye Jamie!”

“Bye bye!” Jamie waved as Katie led him to the elevator, Steve holding his other hand.

“You had lunch?” Steve looked over at her and she shook her head.

“It’s been manic.”

“Good, because neither have I. Thought we could grab something before I head off to the group.”

Katie grinned and leaned up to give him a kiss. “Perfect.” “Lunch?” Jamie piped up and Steve looked down at him.

“Buddy, you ate an entire bowl of spaghetti at home.” “But, I’m hungry.” He pouted and Katie looked at Steve.

“He gets that off you.” She smirked and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Who does he get climbing the fridge off?” He asked.

“Again?”

“Yeah, had to bribe him down with a cookie.”

Katie snorted. “Well I don’t know about the climbing bit but he definitely gets the negotiation skills from me”

“It wasn’t a negotiation.” Steve scoffed, as the doors opened on the ground floor “It was out and out extortion.”

Katie laughed as they stepped out into the reception, heading to the front doors which opened automatically.

“Let’s go to the deli round the corner.” She suggested and Steve nodded, positioning himself on the outside of the sidewalk as always, Jamie on the inside of his two parents as they slowed their pace to allow their son to walk the block or so round the corner.

“Momma?” He asked tugging on hand. “Yes baby?” “I haff tuna?”

“If you want tuna, yeah.”

At that point Steve, who had been watching the two of them, turned and almost walked straight into another pedestrian.

“Oh, sorry Ma’am.” He nodded to her at the same time Jamie uttered.

“Fuck.” Katie stopped dead and turned to look down at him, her voice growing stern. “James Anthony Samuel Rogers, what did you just say?”

He blinked up at her as Steve groaned, crouching down in front of his son. “I told you that was a bad word.” He softly chastised the two year old.

“Sowee Momma,Sowee daddy.” Jamie’s eyes looking down at his feet as he toed the sidewalk slightly with his little sneakers.

“Thank you for apologising.” Steve ruffled his hair as he stood up. “Don’t say it again.” “Okay.” “Where did he hear that?” Katie looked accusingly at Steve and he hesitated for a moment.

“Tony?” He shrugged, a sheepish smile crossing his face as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

Katie narrowed her eyes. “You’re still a terrible liar.”

******

June 2022

“Now don’t go mad Spangles.” Tony immediately greeted Steve as he shut the car door and headed across the lawn area to the side of the lake house. Instantly Steve narrowed his eyes.

“What have you done?” He asked, following Tony down a well-trodden path to the back of the house where a small play tent was erected.

“Nothing.” Tony shrugged, as Steve followed him round to the back of the house. “Well, nothing bad, just…”

“Stop, or I’ll shoot!” Steve heard Morgan speak before she popped her head out of the tent, and held her left hand out in front of her. She was wearing a red glove with some form of battery powered light strapped to the palm. Before Steve could comment, Jamie followed, the same item on his right.

“Pew pew!” He grinned, making the noise at his dad. Steve took a deep breath and scowled at Tony.

“Really?”

“Hey look, it was this or the actual gauntlets so,” he shrugged and then Steve really did give him a glare. Tony held his hands up. “I was in the garage tinkering and they saw them and wanted one of their own so…”

“Iron Man!” Jamie grinned up at his dad “Look Daddy, like Unca Nee!”

“And I suppose those just have to come back to my house with the pair of them tonight?” Steve narrowed his eyes at Tony. “You know, I can always refuse to babysit.”

“Err, no you can’t.” Tony smirked. “First off we had Jamie last night so you and Katie could have a night alone, and second off…” “Uncle Pangles!” Morgan threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around his legs. “We can play tonight, I stay at yours!”

“…you can’t resist her Stark charm.” Tony smirked as Steve sighed, bending down to give his niece a kiss on the head.

Katie tried not to laugh at the look on Steve’s face as he recounted the incident later that evening as they sat out in the back round the fire pit torching S’mores with Emmy. Jamie and Morgan were fast asleep in Jamie’s room.

“Well Dad,” Emmy sat back and looked at him, her brown eyes flashing with mischief, “sometimes you gotta fight fire with fire…”

“What you got in mind?” He looked at her.

“We’re pretty good at art, right?” She shrugged and Steve nodded. “Let’s put it to use.”

So the next morning, as soon as the hardware shop opened, Emmy and Steve were in there gathering supplies for the Great Rogers Revenge plan, sharing a victorious hi-five whilst they loaded the trunk of the car up with their ammo. Katie told them she didn’t want to know what they were planning and she meant it, steering clear of Steve’s man-cave for the rest of the morning, calling them back to the house at eleven ish for a coffee and a slice of banana bread when Natasha dropped in. The two women could hear Steve and Emmy sniggering as they approached and when they walked into the kitchen, Katie was greeted by the pair of them holding up their finished items.

“Oh my God!” Natasha spluttered. There was a slight pause, before Katie cracked up laughing as Steve and Emmy held up their masterpieces. They had painted the insides of two small metal trash can lids to look like replicas of Steve’s shield.

“I got the idea from a picture in my history books.” Emmy said, grinning “Some young kids in a Brooklyn street after the war, playing with the lids like they were shields…” “Perfect handles to hold them with, look.” Steve grinned, flipping his round “And they’re spray varnished too so the paint won’t rub off.”

“Cap!” Jamie shrieked as the sight of the items Steve and Emmy were holding.

“Wow!” Morgan looked up in awe “Is one for me?” “Sure is, Moo.” Steve bent down and showed the two children how to grab the shield with their hands on the handles and, once he was confident they had got it, they shot out of the back door and down onto the grass, Lucky leaping up from where he had been snoozing under a tree and heading inside out of the way.

“Just do me a favour and don’t show teach ‘em to throw them.” Katie sighed, watching as Jamie was busy holding his shield in front of him as Morgan aimed her faker repulsor beam clad hand at him.

Steve shook his head, grabbing a piece of cake. “No point, we tried and it doesn’t work. They don’t have the same weight or trajectory.”

“Yeah, they just kinda hover for a bit and then fall down.” Emmy shrugged, her mouth full of banana bread. “This is good, mom.”

“Thanks.” Katie smiled “Nat you want another piece?”

“No thanks.” she shook her head, “don’t wanna ruin our lunch.” “Lunch?” Steve paused, the slice of cake halfway to his mouth.

“I told you last night,” Katie rolled her eyes, “me and Nat are off for lunch and shopping.”

“You wanna come Em?” Nat asked.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I wanna be here when Uncle Tony picks these two up.”

She fist bumped Steve and Katie shook her head at the pair of them.

“Well, I do not. Gimme two mins Nat and I’ll grab my shoes.”

**** “So, Steve and I are taking the kids away in a month or so, why don’t you come with us?” Katie asked as they sat in a small tapas bar, just off Times Square. Nat pondered for a while before she shook her head.

“I can’t leave the compound.”

“Why not?” “If something goes wrong, I need to be there.” “Nat,” Katie sighed, “it isn’t your responsibility. The Avengers, we’re not…” Natasha cut her off, “Don’t, please,” she shook her head, “it’s my job. If I can help in even the smallest of ways then I should.” Katie bit her lip before she reached over for her glass of water. She understood that in all fairness, Steve had gone through his own phase of feeling useless not long after the snap but had found his niche for sure with the support groups. If this was how Nat was dealing with it then…

“Anyway, enough about that.” Nat changed the subject. “Tell me more about the delightful language my God-Son has been learning.” Katie groaned. “Did I tell you about the whole, oh Fuck thing a few months back?” “Yeah.”

“Well a few nights ago we’re sat at the table and he suddenly shouts ‘Daddy, fuck.’ So, of course Steve tells him off. But he doesn’t stop. ‘Momma, fuck, Emmy, fuck…’ and Steve’s getting more and more exasperated, trying to tell him to stop, and wasn’t until Jamie pointed to the table and shouts ‘need fuck’ we realised he wanted a fork for his pasta and not the spoon we had given him.” Katie grinned as Natasha laughed. “Honestly Nat, I thought Steve was gonna have a heart attack.”

“Yeah he doesn’t like that kinda language.” Natasha grinned biting into a breadstick.

“I wouldn’t mind but he taught Jamie that word, not intentionally of course. And then there was the jackass incident.”

“What?”

“Someone pulled out in front of me at a junction. I forgot he was in the car so I slammed on the horn and flipped him off shouting ‘jackass’ out the window.” Katie took another drink of her water “Didn’t think anything of it until we were leaving Tony’s later that afternoon. I wound the back windows down in the car so Jamie could wave. Only he doesn’t wave, he raises his middle finger and calls Tony a jackass”

Natasha laughed. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

“Funnily enough that’s what Steve said.” Katie grinned. “Mind you, what he did at the supermarket the other day tops it all.” She took a bite of her garlic mushrooms. “He’s sat in the trolley and loud as you like shouts ‘I got a woody in my pants’. The woman in the aisle next to us just looks at us and Steve starts trying to explain that he was wearing Toy Story underpants, I mean…”

Natasha spluttered out her calamari, choking slightly as she started to laugh, Katie grinned before she too chuckled. It was funny now she thought about it. Tto be honest Katie had found it funny at the time, Steve was the one that had flushed bright red. At that point her phone began to ring and she fished it out of her bag.

“Uh oh.” She winced and looked at Nat

“Stark?”

She nodded “Hi Tone…” “Oh don’t hi Tone me,” his voice hit her ears, “your husband is a grade A…”

“I hope you don’t have Morgan in the car whilst you’re being so angry.” Katie jokingly chastised her brother

“A trash can lid. A god-damned trashcan lid.” “Yeah well you send our kid home with some of your shit, we’re gonna repay the favour, now if you don’t mind…”

She cut the call and saw that she had a message from Steve.

Game, set and match to Spangles ;-)

She snorted.

“Are they ever gonna stop this tit for tat with the kids?” Natasha asked.

Katie shook her head, smiling. In all honesty she kind of liked the friendly little feud they had going. It was all good natured, and she enjoyed the closeness of her family. “Nope. Sometimes I forget exactly who the kids are. The pair of them act worse than two year olds.”

******

August 2022

“Did Em tell you about the bloke at the harbour?” Steve asked, looking at Katie. The two of them were sat on the veranda of the villa on Tony’s Island. It was the last night of their two week vacation and the family had spent the time playing in the pool, on the beach- Emmy and Jamie scouring the sand for shells and other mementoes to bring home. Jamie had been particularly taken with watching the fishing boats as they left and returned from the small harbour, Steve often taking him and Emmy down to watch when they brought back their catches of the day, the small boy engaging as enthusiastically and as well he could with his two-year-old vocabulary and the locals had been nothing but gracious and kind back to him and his older sibling.

Katie suspected it was for that reason that they had returned earlier that night with a selection of seafood which Katie had enjoyed preparing for them, along with numerous salads, potatoes and some local fruits for afters. The four had gorged themselves and the kids, after no protest at all due to them being exhausted, were now tucked up in bed leaving the married couple to take in their last night alone.

“No?” Katie looked at Steve.

“He kept asking me how much I wanted for her.” Steve smirked and Katie laughed. “She thought it was hilarious too, until I offered to sell her for three lobsters and a couple mahi-mahi.”

“Oh I bet she loved that.” Katie looked at him, as he shrugged, drinking from his beer bottle. “Mind you, it is kinda freaky, just how much she’s grown. I mean she’s fifteen this October.” “Tell me about it.” Steve grumbled “We got all that stuff to come yet.” “What stuff?” Katie asked, eyeing him over her wine glass.

“You know,” he waved the hand that was clutching his beer, “boys and…whatever.” Katie snorted. “What you gonna do when she does finally bring a boy back to meet us?” She asked, swinging her bare legs up and placing her feet in his lap.

“Be waiting with a shot gun.” Steve grumbled, his spare hand dropping to her smooth skin, fingers gently tracing up and down her calf.

“That’s a dramatic shovel talk.” Katie raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh I won’t talk. Just hold it across my lap and look at him.” “You’re terrible.” Katie sniggered as his hand gently continued its ministrations on her leg.

Steve chuckled and Katie glanced out over the bay, sighing slightly It had been a great few weeks, just one person really missing.

“I wish Nat would have come.”

“She’s worrying me,” Steve sighed. “It’s not healthy, being cooped up in that place, alone.”

“I know.” Katie nodded. “But there’s not much we can do other than be there for her.”

Steve took a breath, laying his head back against his chair as the warm sea breeze hit them. Katie glanced over at where he was sat, his skin slightly more tanned, the freckles that sprang over his nose during the summer were now even more pronounced although they couldn’t rival hers. His hair had been cropped short again, and he’d even sprouted the thin smattering of a beard over the last two weeks, although he’d told Katie sternly he wasn’t growing it out again.

“I’m Captain America at those support groups, and he doesn’t have a beard.”

As Katie drank him in she noticed that over the years, whilst he had aged slightly, he hadn’t changed nearly as much as she had. All the studies, backed up by Banner’s research, estimated that Steve would age at a rate approximately fifteen to twenty years younger than the average person. At some points this worried her, as she knew that in fifteen years or so he would only look to be in his late thirties when they would both be realistically, going off the years spent living and not buried in ice, midway through their fifties, but that was something she’d known before she had married him.

And she supposed that as long as he didn’t care how old she looked it didn’t matter.

“Want a photo or summi’k” Steve asked, his eyes on his wife, as she was simply looking at him, clearly contemplating something. She smiled at the way his Brooklyn drawl dripped off his voice as it always did when he was relaxed. He cocked his head slightly to one side, smiling gently at her as his beer bottle rest against his leg. Deciding she wanted distracting from the ridiculous worry that had sprung up on her, she grinned and moved her feet before she stood up. Taking the bottle off him she placed it on the table and settled on his lap, her knees either side of his thighs, as he smirked up at her.

“Summik sounds good.” She muttered kissing him hard. Their tongues began their usual dance until he pulled back and looked at her, sweeping her hair off her face. Simply put, in his eyes, his wife was stunning. Her freckles which always became more pronounced in the sun spread across her nose and her cheeks, giving her an even more youthful look than normal. Her hair was now a few inches above her waist, having grown down from the shoulder length cut she had sported whilst they’d been on the run and was falling over her face in a mass of beach tangled curls, which Steve adored. Her figure, Jesus, he could look at her all day, curves across her hips, breasts…he’d been exceptionally pleased that, despite her confidence issues over her body not being what it used to be, she’d been wearing a two-piece swimsuit, even if it was one that covered her midriff. He knew better now that to try and argue that he didn’t give a damned about the fact her stomach was slightly less flat than it used to be, or her hips were wider, Steve simply let her get on with dressing how she felt comfortable and lavished affection and praise on her every chance he got, because frankly, there wasn’t a think about his wife he didn’t adore.

He questioned every, single day how he had gotten so goddamned lucky and it had been him she’d chosen to spend the rest of her life with.

“What’s wrong?” She frowned, noticing the contemplative look in his eyes.

“Nothing at all, Baby.” He shook his head, reaching down and pulling off the crochet dress she was wearing over her swim suit top and denim shorts. “Just thinking about how I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you look so beautiful.” She grinned as his fingers moved to undo the string that held her top around her neck, causing it to fall forward leading her bare from the waist up. He simply admired her for a moment as her hands wound into his hair and she gave a soft tug, causing his head to tilt upwards to look at her. “Not even when we got married?”

“Hmmm.” He contemplated, her lips hovering near his as she leant down, his hands creeping up her sides. “Maybe, but you weren’t my baby momma then.”

Katie grinned, she loved it when he called her that. Gently kissing him she pulled back and looked at him. “I’ve not changed that much have I?” She teased as she pushed down on his crotch and he groaned.

“Nope,” he muttered before kissing her hard, grinding his hips up against hers.

“Take me to bed Captain.” She murmured into his mouth, at him with suggestive eyes which peered from underneath heavy lids.

“Yes ma’am” he grinned, and in a swoop he’d picked her up and carried her inside.

**** Chapter 48 Part 2

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

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sweeter than honey (redux)

Pepper Potts did not exactly mean to become a criminal. Really, she still doesn’t think she is.

But here are the facts:

1.) She has broken several laws in pursuit of funds that do not belong to her.

2.) The FBI would like to talk to her about several things and potentially put her under arrest.

3.) She can no longer go to her regular coffee shop because the barista snitched and told them her name, as well as her occupation.

Pepper broke several laws because the company she was working for (Stane International) was technically breaking laws, but laws that do not apply to corporations because corporations do this thing called “funding campaigns” and also sometimes “doing favors.”

She decided to do the same and suddenly she is a criminal. Not her fault she redistributed money back into the community, and now they can’t get any of it back.

It’s just how that worked out.

She’s been staying at a hotel that serves many questionable individuals each month, and it has an indoor pool and a three-star rating on the latest travel website.

It’s nondescript, not her style, and she’s currently in the bathroom having a crisis because she most likely needs to dye her hair.

She’s vain. Pepper knows she is, has known it since high school when she trimmed her hair and cried. Her hair, by all accounts, is gorgeous. It’s a shiny strawberry-blonde that makes her look like an ice queen in winter and a mysterious fairy queen in summer.

She does not want to dye it. But here she is with an eight dollar box of dye and thoughts in her head.

And then her hotel door opens.

Not supposed to do that, but that’s what happens when you’re in a three-star hotel.

She is also in old athletic shorts that have most definitely seen better days and a tank top that was a last-minute buy from the nearest store, and it does not suit her at all.

Facing her is a man with an odd beard, tinted sunglasses, and a graphic t-shirt over a blazer.

“So. You pissed off Stane Industries,” he drawls. “I’m impressed. Usually they just sweep their little problems under the rug.”

“I’ll sweep you under one if you’d like,” Pepper offers, wondering how quickly a blowdryer can knock someone out. She’s not sure how well-made the hotel one is. Probably not very.

“I’m not here to kill you,” the man says. He takes off his sunglasses. His eyes are a nice shade of brown, not that you’re supposed to notice that about a potential enemy. Pepper is just that skilled.

“Then what are you here to do? Make me move to Florida?”

“No, the opposite. We’re staying here. I’m offering you a job position of helping me take down Obadiah Stane and the company itself.”

“Who would I be working with?”

“Anthony Stark.”

Pepper stills.

She read the news when she was in college, same time as Tony Stark. Went missing in the car crash, no one found his body. Temperatures were freezing, he was wearing a tuxedo. The chances were that he froze to death somewhere that they didn’t find yet.

Chances were. What an odd little phrase.

“So, you made it out.”

“Not as hard as people say it seems to be, Virginia.”

“Call me Pepper, my first name disgusts me.”

“Gotcha, Pepper. Call me Tony. You in?”

“Obviously. What do I need to do?”

“Meet the team.”

There is Rhodey, who was Tony’s best friend and sobbed on national television for two weeks until they forgot all about him.

“He’ll cry at anything,” Tony says with a laugh as Rhodey sends him a dirty look. “Just made him think about neon shoes and he bawled like a baby.”

“I did not,” Rhodey hisses. “I was a good crier.”

“You looked like a seal,” Pepper intervenes. “But you played the part quite well. Nice to meet you.”

“Right back at you, Pepper.”

She meets Happy, a man who is all serious and grumpy and “did not want to break the law before forty” but he also gets to watch Downton Abbey whenever he wants, so he’s not doing too bad.

He runs security and also tells Rhodey and Tony when they’re banned from ordering pizza all the time, and Pepper is inducted into the Healthy Eating Committee.

There’s Bruce Banner, who enjoys taking over corporations for fun, and this is his second one. His first was some sort of health insurance scam, and apparently that was just to finish up his thesis for his third doctorate.

“He has seven degrees, he’s weird,” Tony says.

“Oh like you’re any better,” Bruce says with a snort. “You learned twelve languages for fun. Including French, which is useless.”

“French is not useless,” Tony says. “It got us free food in Canada.”

“We would’ve gotten it anyway if we’d done it my way.”

“Stealing?” Rhodey asks.

“Yes!”

Pepper laughs.

Their job is a bit easier than anticipated. They found out from Pepper that getting into the building is stupid easy because no one likes their job and will do anything when bribed.

Tony struts in with a badly-made-employee-ID and talks about a copying machine and coffee and seeing someone next month for dinner. Pepper just keeps her head down and pretends like she’s meeting someone for something. Like usual.

Obadiah Stane is out of the country on a meeting, and his secretary is scared to death of him, so they’re allowed to poke around the office and find some interesting information.

The problem comes when someone recognizes Bruce outside (government watchlists: the most pesky things on earth) and suddenly there’s this huge fuss.

Tony pushes Pepper into an office closet and then promptly asks her if anyone opens the door, if she’s alright with him kissing her.

“Why would you do that?”

“People don’t like watching kissing, too intimate. Also, you have a lovely face and you’re quite funny, and I think it’d be fun and delightful to kiss you.”

“How long have you thought about that?”

“Not going to talk about that, just want an answer. If you say no--and feel free to, there’s no obligation in physical contact right now--it does complicate plans A to D. I suppose we could play the divorced couple route, but I’m not a gigantic fan about that.”

“I mean, I guess? It wouldn’t be bad, and I’m not exactly opposed to it, Would it mean anything later?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Let’s figure that out after we do it.”

“If we need to do it.”

Door swings open.

Oh, there’s a need.

Tony is a particularly nice kisser, Pepper thinks. The thought runs through her head that she’s only kissed two people before Tony, and one was in high school so that doesn’t count, but the other was a secretary at an old company she used to work for.

But Tony is nice. Soft and warm and he grabs her waist and that’s nice.

“Oh my god, sorry,” the employee mutters. “I just, I thought--”

“Occupied!” Tony says, not even stopping as he kicks out his leg and practically stomps the poor other guy in the stomach.

They get out, run, and Pepper laughs as she sees a bit of pink lipstick on the side of Tony’s mouth.

“So, how’d I do?”

“Send me a survey,” Pepper remarks. “Or a ranking.”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“Seven.”

“I was that bad?”

“How do you rank things? Do you put one as the best?”

“Obviously.”

“No, you’re an idiot. One is always the worst. You’re a nine. It would’ve been higher but we were in a corporate office and in a supply closet.”

“So what you’re saying is, I’ll have to try again?”

“Preferably over a couple glasses of wine and pizza. The good kind, though. Not the garbage Rhodey orders.”

They approach the car that Happy has, with Rhodey and Bruce already leading others on a goose chase.

“You two have too much fun,” Happy mutters. “Boss, you got lipstick on your side. Did you get the drives?”

“Transferred and set to release to every major news outlet tomorrow morning at six a.m.,” Tony says. “Interns are going to curse my name as they’re forced to rewrite articles.”

Pepper smiles.

That night, they have a couple of glasses of wine and Tony orders the good pizza, the kind that costs a little bit too much for what it is, but it’s all worth it in the end.

When Tony takes over the company after about six months of legal battles that would probably have drawn on for well over a decade if not for the fact that Tony is one of the most in-your-face-let’s-talk men she’s ever met, Pepper was kind of expecting things to slow down.

Of course not. That’s not her style nor is it Tony’s, although arguably a vacation or a nice spa day would have been nice beforehand.

“We have shit to do,” Tony says. “Rhodey, you need to help me revamp R&D. Pepper, I need to talk to you in the office.”

They’ve already hired a company to completely redesign the entire building and refocus the company’s outlook, starting with getting rid of the disgusting 1970s carpet and chairs. God, it’s ugly. Pepper cried when she saw the office chairs.

But she’s in Tony’s office, and she’s wondering if this is going to be directly related to workplace relationships or not. She’s already prepared an argument as to why she still wants a relationship and just how much professionalism she can exhibit in the face of hardship.

(That hardship being the fact that Tony looks quite good in suits but also has arms that are made for tank tops.)

“I have a problem with you,” Tony says. “And it’s that I want to make you CEO, but I don’t want people to think that you got it just because we’re dating. So we have an issue to cross.”

Pepper was not expecting this. She was expecting maybe head accountant, or head of the PR team. But CEO? That was something that was...wow. Pepper had had a fifteen year plan for working up from wherever it was that she would be at.

She also didn’t know they were dating.

“We’re dating?”

“Did I read the kiss wrong? Oh shit, was the seven secretly the bad seven?”

“No!” Pepper says. “You just never told me that we were dating, we didn’t have a communicative conversation about it.”

“Oh. Well, would you like to go on dates and things?”

“What’s ‘and things’?”

“You know. Sexy times. But I wanted to be a professional about it. But I am not that professional.”

“No, no you’re not. Which is why you offered me the CEO position and why I am accepting it. But I will also date you...and things.”

“Excellent. Have a dinner tonight while we discuss how to do Microsoft Excel?”

“I already know how to use it.”

“Pepper, you are the only woman for me in this lifetime and the next.”

“And the one after that?”

“I’m assuming you’ll get bored of me and marry someone who’s seven feet tall.”

“Seven feet tall? What, am I going to attend every NBA game for the next husband?”

“Maybe, I don’t know what you’ll do. I’ll probably be halfway into a grave over despair.”

Pepper chuckles, dropping a short kiss onto his temple.

“Well, I hope I don’t have to witness that. You want me to make some salad for tonight then?”

“Yes please! We also need to review the decor and see what chairs to order.”

Pepper nods.

“We need to ask Rhodey, he has opinions about design of those.”

“Of course he does, he hates standing too long. We’ll send him some of our options.”

She waves as she leaves the office.

What Tony misses:

Pepper pumps her fist as she leaves the office, nearly stumbles, and is quite glad that no security cameras were installed that day.

What Pepper misses:

Tony spins so hard in his office chair as a celebration that it topples over.

Yeah, they’re made for each other.

#pepperony #tony stark #pepper potts #love this one #i love writing pepper and i don't do enough of it #i really like it when it's clear that they both love each other #bc with a lot of fics it's like pepper being like 'well i guess :/' or she's cool about it #BUT I WANT PEPPER TO BE A NERD!#rhodey #lovelyirony writes

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flourgirl · 4 years ago

Text

When We First Met

Part I of “The Unbelievers” series

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You’re the new intern at Stark Industries and you’ve made it your mission to figure out just how Peter Parker became Mr. Stark’s favorite.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: A slow burn with a few curse words thrown around.

A/N: This fic helped drag me out of my writer’s block, so I really hope you guys like it! Happy reading <3

“Have you been talking for a million years? Did I go deaf because you're burnin' my ears? Spare the details, it's unnecessary I got places to be and people to see” -It’s Not All About You, Lawrence

The first time you met Peter Parker, he was actually tolerable. It was your first day at Stark Industries, and you had just gotten your job assignment as Pepper’s assistant’s assistant. In other words, you were about to spend your days making coffee runs and changing out ink cartridges.

“Hey, uh, do you need some help?” he had asked as you struggled to carry two boxes of printer paper all the way to the copy room on the other side of the building.

“Yeah, for sure,” you huffed, not being able to see who your savior was over the stack of boxes. When he took both of the boxes out of your arms, you were met with his dopey grin and wavy, brown hair.

He’s cute, you thought. But all you dared to say was, “Thank you so much. I felt like I was about to die.”

The two of you shared a laugh at your dramatics before you continued walking.

“No problem. I was headed this way, anyway,” he replied nonchalantly. You caught yourself staring at how light he made the boxes seem. He must’ve been a lot stronger than his baggy, oversized sweatshirt made him look. “Are you new? I’ve never seen you around before.”

Peter had to slow his pace down a lot to let you catch up to him. He wasn’t used to taking casual strolls around the office, always having to run over to wherever Mr. Stark was at a moment’s notice.

“It’s my first day, actually,” you admitted, offering him a weak smile. You weren’t much of a conversationalist, especially not when it came to cute guys who looked that good in sweatshirts with dorky math jokes printed across the front of them. “Are you an intern, too?”

“Yeah! I’ve been working here since I was fifteen,” he told you, leaning against the doorway of the copy room. “But I don’t do anything too important. Mostly just fly under the radar and do what Mr. Stark tells me to.”

Your eyes widened. “Whoa, you work directly with Mr. Stark? You must be one important guy.”

Peter blushed, not knowing how to backtrack out of the hole he had just dug for himself. “Uh, not really. We’re not like friends or anything. It’s just, Mr. Stark knows about all of my science fair projects and—”

“You aren’t making yourself sound any less impressive,” you interrupted, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at him as he set the boxes down on the counter. “So, Einstein, who are you?”

“Parker. Peter. Shit, sorry, it’s Peter Parker. I have to go now. Bye!” he blurted out, running from the room before you could even tell him your name.

A girl who looked about your age slipped into the copy room, startling you out of your confused state. “Were you just talking to Peter Parker?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?” you questioned, hoping she’d have some sort of explanation for why he acted the way he did.

“He’s basically Mr. Stark’s surrogate child,” she said, sipping one of the many coffees that she was carrying. “I’m Grace, by the way.”

“Y/N. What do you mean by ‘surrogate child?’”

“It’s like, everywhere Mr. Stark goes, so does Peter. That thing with you and him was basically the first time any of us had ever seen him next to a printer, and he’s only talked to a handful of us once or twice. Guess he’s just too busy being the golden boy to associate with the less important interns.”

Of course. The first chance at a cute office romance that you get is squashed by the fact that the guy you like is an antisocial jerk. But that’s not how he seemed to you, so why was his reputation with the other interns so bad?

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

It had been one week since you started working, and every day you learned more and more reasons why everyone hated Peter Parker. He didn’t make coffee runs and nobody had seen him at an intern meeting in the last year. And yet, somehow, he was the CEO’s favorite. It was annoying, to say the least.

You actually hadn’t seen Peter around ever since you had first met, which only helped to confirm the rumors that he’d rather eat lunch alone than be forced to talk to any of you. You hated that even when Grace or anyone else wasn’t dragging Peter through the mud, you were still thinking about his stupidly adorable Queens accent and whatever the hell he could be doing that was so important.

Of course, the next time Peter decided to grace the cafeteria with his presence was when Mr. Stark had just arrived back from a business trip to Germany. Figures that he would take his favorite on the trip of a lifetime. Your bitterness grew as you imagined Peter relaxing in the company’s private jet, but it wasn’t until he held up the elevator that you really started to hate him.

“Hey,” he panted, slipping into the elevator just before the doors closed. Once again, your hands were full, this time with a stack of folders meant for Pepper to look over. “You’re that new girl. Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

“You didn’t,” you noted, turning to look away from him in the hopes that he’d get the message. You weren’t interested in giving him the time of day.

“Did I do something to upset you?” He rubbed the back of his neck while he waited for the answer that you didn’t plan on giving him.

The awkward silence between the two of you was starting to feel especially long when the worst thing possible happened. Loud creaking noises came from the elevator shaft, shaking the two of you as the cables screeched to a halt.

“You have got to be kidding me!” you groaned, setting the files down to press the emergency call button. You had luckily never actually had to use one of these things, but that also meant that you had no idea how to work it.

“Hi, I’m here with another intern and we’re currently stuck in the elevator on the west wing, between floors four and five. Could you send someone over to get us out, please?” You pleaded into the little phone, bitterness lacing your voice.

“What do you mean it’ll take two hours? What do you expect us to do, sit here and play checkers?” You could feel your face heating up as you panicked over the fact that you were going to be stuck in this metal death trap for a while.

Peter walked over to you, leaning against the wall of the elevator to take over the conversation before your attitude extended the wait to three hours. You begrudgingly handed the phone over to him.

“Hey, could you put Mr. Stark on the line?” You couldn’t hear what the person was saying, but you could guess that it wasn’t very positive.

“Well, tell him it’s Peter and…” He looked at you, mouthing for you to give your name.

“Y/N,” you muttered, continuing to pace back and forth as the tiny box that you two were stuffed in started to feel smaller and smaller with each minute that passed.

“Y/N. Five minutes? Alright, thank you so much, Alice! Have a great day.” You were irritated by his effortless charm with others, despite how awkward you knew him to be.

“Um… thank you.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly.

“Are you okay? You seem a little on edge.”

“I’m fine! I just… really need to get out of here.” You wanted to keep pacing back and forth, but you were too busy hyperventilating to think about moving your legs. Peter watched as your eyes started to water, not sure about what he could do to make you calm down.

He stepped closer towards you, which only made you feel even more anxious than you already were. You didn’t want him to see you like this.

“Y/N,” Peter whispered, wrapping his arms around you. You looked up at him in surprise, your eyes probably red and puffy from crying.

“What are you doing?” you sobbed, leaning in closer to him. It was comforting, but you were so embarrassed that you were crying in the arms of a complete stranger.

“Well, uh, I know that hugging someone can release endorphins, more specifically dopamine and serotonin, that calm them down. And it relaxes the muscles, and I know that when babies hear their mom’s heartbeats they feel better, so I just thought—”

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

“Please stop talking.” You leaned into the hug, taking in the clean smell of his sweater and how warm he was. Little by little, your breathing slowed down.

“Okay,” he agreed, holding you tighter, one of his hands gently stroking your hair in the comfortable silence that had filled the elevator.

You almost forgot about where you were when the elevator jolted upwards, causing you to wriggle out of Peter’s grip and pick your files back up off the ground. When the doors opened, you scrambled out without a word.

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

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter began, fiddling with one of the many decorations around Tony’s office. “I… I think that, maybe, I should be doing, you know, more intern-y things around here.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow, looking up from his computer screen. “Let me get this right, kid. You’re asking me to give you random tasks to do around the office?”

“Uh, yes?” Peter answered, unsure if he had just made a big mistake or not. His confidence was dwindling by the second.

“Now, why on earth would I do that? What if we need Spider-Man for a mission, but Peter Parker is too busy getting some jackass down in HR a peppermint mocha latte?”

“Well, I mean… I just… Some of the other interns are getting kind of mad that you don’t make me run errands or come to any of their meetings, and I’m just worried that they’re getting a little bit too suspicious that I’m always with you and—”

“If I say yes, will you please stop rambling?” Tony groaned, returning to finish typing whatever Peter had just interrupted.

“Yes,” Peter squeaked. For once in his life, his inability to stop talking had been beneficial.

“Fine. Here, go sit downstairs and take the staples out of these packets. And then re-staple them.”

Peter immediately perked up again, excited to be someone other than Spider-Man to Tony. “Right away, Mr. Stark. Thank you so much! Bye!” He quickly ran out of the office and downstairs to where he knew some of the interns liked to have their lunch breaks.

“Is that Peter?” you heard Grace ask in between bites of her panini. Your head perked up to see his head tilted down, making only his soft brown curls visible from where you were sitting.

You squinted, wondering what kind of task had him so engrossed, and why he was sitting over here. He never sat here, especially not while you were eating lunch. Carlos, who interned in accounting, glanced over at Peter before taking his seat across from you.

“Parker sure does seem interested in removing staples all of a sudden,” he laughed, unwrapping his tortilla wrap from its aluminum foil.

You couldn’t believe it. He was just pretending to be doing something. “That’s it? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Before your friends could stop you, you were marching over to Peter’s table, tapping your foot as you waited for him to notice you.

You cleared your throat, finally catching his attention. “Hi, Y/N,” he grinned, looking back down to meticulously bend back the small metal arms of the staple, freeing the sheets of paper from each other.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking out staples.”

“Is this some kind of joke? Some weird way of you proving that Mr. Stark totally doesn’t give you special treatment or something?” Peter got nervous, realizing how quickly you had caught onto his ruse. He needed a way to distract you and fast.

“You, um, you look pretty today,” he told you, not even looking up to meet your cold stare.

A blush started to spread across your cheeks when you realized what he had said. Surely the quick glance he had just given you wasn’t enough for him to actually know what you looked like today.

“Nice try, Parker. You barely even looked at me. Showering me with false compliments isn’t going to stop me from figuring out what the hell you’re actually up to around here.” You countered, satisfied that his plan wasn’t working as well as he wanted it to.

“Didn’t need to look. You’re pretty every day,” Peter replied calmly. He didn’t even realize what he was saying until it had come out of his mouth. It was true. He thought you looked nice every time he saw you, but you didn’t seem to take his compliments very well, and so he never told you.

But you didn’t know that he actually meant it. He’s just messing with you, you reasoned, regaining your composure.

“Whatever,” you huffed. “Just some advice: next time, you should try to come up with something better than taking out the staples of packets that clearly never had any problems in the first place.”

He peered up to see you turn on your heels and walk back to your friends, who had been carefully watching the two of you this entire time.

“Was that a lovers’ quarrel?” Carlos teased as you sat back down. You rolled your eyes at him, and Grace giggled at your insistence that nothing was going on between you and Peter.

“Yeah, it looked like things were getting a little hot and heavy,” she added.

“Shut up, you guys. We definitely are not lovers,” you assured them, digging back into your grilled cheese.

“Sure. So if there’s nothing going on, then why did Yuri tell me that he saw you guys making out in the elevator on the security cameras?” Carlos asked, making you snap your head at him mid-bite, your eyes widening.

Fucking Yuri. All of those security interns were just nosy and power-hungry, but you’d have to deal with him another time.

“We were not making out! We were just stuck in the elevator and—”

“You guys decided to have a romantic embrace?” Grace questioned, only further exasperating you. “Come on, Y/N, just admit it. You have a crush on Peter.”

“No, I don’t! I wouldn’t date Peter if he were the last guy on the planet,” you yelled, suddenly aware of how loud you had become.

You looked around the room to see many confused faces staring back at you, including Peter’s, which had a frown on it.

You watched as he collected his stack of papers and walked out of the room, staring so hard at the floor that he almost ran into two women who were walking by.

“Geez, Y/N. We were only joking. It’s okay,” Carlos said, holding back a laugh at your little scene.

“You guys suck,” you huffed, settling down to hopefully enjoy the rest of your lunch break in peace.

You needed to forget about the way that Peter had looked at you just a minute ago, full of hurt and disappointment. He didn’t actually care, you thought to yourself, even though you weren’t quite sure if that were true.

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

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn @allycat449-blog @greatpizzascissorstaco @dummiesshort @parkerpeterparker2004 @letssee2468 @yourbiggestspiderfan @orangesodafoam @alytavzla

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman x reader #mcu #marvel #tom holland x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you

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hlupdate · 4 years ago

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Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

“We’ll dance again,” Harry Styles coos, the Los Angeles sunshine peeking through his pandemic-shaggy hair just so. The singer, songwriter and actor — beloved and critically acclaimed thanks to his life-affirming year-old album, “Fine Line” — is lamenting that his Variety Hitmaker of the Year cover conversation has to be conducted over Zoom rather than in person. Even via videoconference, the Brit is effortlessly charming, as anyone who’s come within earshot of him would attest, but it quickly becomes clear that beneath that genial smile is a well-honed media strategy.

To wit: In an interview that appears a few days later announcing his investment in a new arena in his native Manchester (more on that in a bit), he repeats the refrain — “There will be a time we dance again”— referencing a much-needed return to live music and the promise of some 4,000 jobs for residents.

None of which is to suggest that Styles, 26, phones it in for interviews. Quite the opposite: He does very few, conceivably to give more of himself and not cheapen what is out there and also to use the publicity opportunity to indulge his other interests, like fashion. (Last month Styles became the first male to grace the cover of Vogue solo.) Still, it stings a little that a waltz with the former One Direction member may not come to pass on this album cycle — curse you, coronavirus.

Styles’ isolation has coincided with his maturation as an artist, a thespian and a person. With “Fine Line,” he’s proved himself a skilled lyricist with a tremendous ear for harmony and melody. In preparing for his role in Olivia Wilde’s period thriller “Don’t Worry Darling,” which is shooting outside Palm Springs, he found an outlet for expression in interpreting words on a page. And for the first time, he’s using his megaphone to speak out about social justice — inspired by the outpouring of support for Black people around the world following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police in May.

Styles has spent much of the past nine months at home in London, where life has slowed considerably. The time has allowed him to ponder such heady issues as his purpose on the earth. “It’s been a pause that I don’t know if I would have otherwise taken,” says Styles. “I think it’s been pretty good for me to have a kind of stop, to look and think about what it actually means to be an artist, what it means to do what we do and why we do it. I lean into moments like this — moments of uncertainty.”

In truth, while Styles has largely been keeping a low profile — his Love On Tour, due to kick off on April 15, was postponed in late March and is now scheduled to launch in February 2021 (whether it actually will remains to be seen) — his music has not. This is especially true in the U.S., where he’s notched two hit singles, “Adore You,” the second-most-played song at radio in 2020, and “Watermelon Sugar” (No. 22 on Variety’s year-end Hitmakers chart), with a third, “Golden,” already cresting the top 20 on the pop format. The massive cross-platform success of these songs means Styles has finally and decisively broken into the American market, maneuvering its web of gatekeepers to accumulate 6.2 million consumption units and rising.

Why do these particular songs resonate in 2020? Styles doesn’t have the faintest idea. While he acknowledges a “nursery rhyme” feel to “Watermelon Sugar” with its earwormy loop of a chorus, that’s about as much insight as he can offer. His longtime collaborator and friend Tom Hull, also known as the producer Kid Harpoon, offers this take: “There’s a lot of amazing things about that song, but what really stands out is the lyric. It’s not trying to hide or be clever. The simplicity of watermelon … there’s such a joy in it, [which] is a massive part of that song’s success.” Also, his kids love it. “I’ve never had a song connect with children in this way,” says Hull, whose credits include tunes by Shawn Mendes, Florence and the Machine and Calvin Harris. “I get sent videos all the time from friends of their kids singing. I have a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old, and they listen to it.”

Styles is quick to note that he doesn’t chase pop appeal when crafting songs. In fact, the times when he pondered or approved a purposeful tweak, like on his self-titled 2017 debut, still gnaw at him. “I love that album so much because it represents such a time in my life, but when I listen to it — sonically and lyrically, especially — I can hear places where I was playing it safe,” he says. “I was scared to get it wrong.”

Contemporary effects and on-trend beats hardly factor into Styles’ decision-making. He likes to focus on feelings — his own and his followers’ — and see himself on the other side of the velvet rope, an important distinction in his view. “People within [the industry] feel like they operate on a higher level of listening, and I like to make music from the point of being a fan of music,” Styles says. “Fans are the best A&R.”

This from someone who’s had free rein to pursue every musical whim, and hand in the album of his dreams in the form of “Fine Line.” Chart success makes it all the sweeter, but Styles insists that writing “for the right reasons” supersedes any commercial considerations. “There’s no part that feels, eh, icky — like it was made in the lab,” he says.

Styles has experience in this realm. As a graduate of the U.K. competition series “The X Factor,” where he and four other auditionees — Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson — were singled out by show creator and star judge Simon Cowell to conjoin as One Direction, he’s seen how the prefab pop machine works up close. The One Direction oeuvre, which counts some 42 million albums sold worldwide, includes songs written with such established hitmakers as Ryan Tedder, Savan Kotecha and Teddy Geiger. Being a studious, insatiable observer, Styles took it all in.

“I learned so much,” he says of the experience. “When we were in the band, I used to try and write with as many different people as I could. I wanted to practice — and I wrote a lot of bad shit.”

His bandmates also benefited from the pop star boot camp. The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members — Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles — each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond.

This departs from the typical trajectories of boy bands including New Kids on the Block and ’N Sync, which have all pro ered a star frontman. The thinking for decades was that a record company would be lucky to have one breakout solo career among the bunch.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

“When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band. ‘Don’t worry, everyone, that wasn’t me! Now I get to do what I really want to do.’ But we loved being in the band,” he says. “I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it.”

Indeed, during the five-ish years that One Direction existed, Styles’ schedule involved the sort of nonstop international jet-setting that few get to see in a lifetime, never mind their teenage years. Between 2011 and 2015, One Direction’s tours pulled in north of $631 million in gross ticket sales, according to concert trade Pollstar, and the band was selling out stadiums worldwide by the time it entered its extended hiatus. Styles, too, had built up to playing arenas as a solo artist, engaging audiences with his colorful stage wear and banter and left-of-center choices for opening acts (a pre-Grammy-haul Kacey Musgraves in 2018; indie darlings King Princess and Jenny Lewis for his rescheduled 2021 run).

Stages of all sizes feel like home to Styles. He grew up in a suburb of Manchester, ground zero for some of the biggest British acts of the 1980s and ’90s, including Joy Division, New Order, the Smiths and Oasis, the latter of which broke the same year Styles was born. His parents were also music lovers. Styles’ father fed him a balanced diet of the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, the Rolling Stones and Queen, while Mum was a fan of Shania Twain, Norah Jones and Savage Garden. “They’re all great melody writers,” says Styles of the acts’ musical throughline.

Stevie Nicks, who in the past has described “Fine Line” as Styles’ “Rumours,” referencing the Fleetwood Mac 1977 classic, sees him as a kindred spirit. “Harry writes and sings his songs about real experiences that seemingly happened yesterday,” she tells Variety. “He taps into real life. He doesn’t make up stories. He tells the truth, and that is what I do. ‘Fine Line’ has been my favorite record since it came out. It is his ‘Rumours.’ I told him that in a note on December 13, 2019 before he went on stage to play the ‘Fine Line’ album at the Forum. We cried. He sang those songs like he had sung them a thousand times. That’s a great songwriter and a great performer.”

“Harry’s playing and writing is instinctual,” adds Jonathan Wilson, a friend and peer who’s advised Styles on backing and session musicians. “He understands history and where to take the torch. You can see the thread of great British performers — from Bolan to Bowie — in his music.”

Also shaping his musical DNA was Manchester itself, the site of a 23,500-seat arena, dubbed Co-op Live, for which Styles is an investor and adviser. Oak View Group, a company specializing in live entertainment and global sports that was founded by Tim Leiweke and Irving Azoff in 2015 (Jeffrey Azoff, Irving’s son, represents Styles at Full Stop Management), is leading the effort to construct the venue. The project gained planning approval in September and is set to open in 2023, with its arrival representing a £350 million ($455 million) investment in the city. (Worth noting: Manchester is already home to an arena — the site of a 2017 bombing outside an Ariana Grande concert — and a football stadium, where One Love Manchester, an all-star benefit show to raise money for victims of the terrorist attack, took place.)

“I went to my first shows in Manchester,” Styles says of concerts paid for with money earned delivering newspapers for a supermarket called the Co-op. “My friends and I would go in on weekends. There’s so many amazing small venues, and music is such a massive part of the city. I think Manchester deserves it. It feels like a full-circle, coming-home thing to be doing this and to be able to give any kind of input. I’m incredibly proud. Hopefully they’ll let me play there at some point.”

Though Styles has owned properties in Los Angeles, his base for the foreseeable future is London. “I feel like my relationship with L.A. has changed a lot,” he explains. “I’ve kind of accepted that I don’t have to live here anymore; for a while I felt like I was supposed to. Like it meant things were going well. This happened, then you move to L.A.! But I don’t really want to.”

Is it any wonder? Between COVID and the turmoil in the U.S. spurred by the presidential election, Styles, like some 79 million American voters, is recovering from sticker shock over the bill of goods sold to them by the concept of democracy. “In general, as people, there’s a lack of empathy,” he observes. “We found this place that’s so divisive. We just don’t listen to each other anymore. And that’s quite scary.”

That belief prompted Styles to speak out publicly in the wake of George Floyd’s death. As protests in support of Black Lives Matter took to streets all over the world, for Styles, it triggered a period of introspection, as marked by an Instagram message (liked by 2.7 million users and counting) in which he declared: “I do things every day without fear, because I am privileged, and I am privileged every day because I am white. … Being not racist is not enough, we must be anti racist. Social change is enacted when a society mobilizes. I stand in solidarity with all of those protesting. I’m donating to help post bail for arrested organizers. Look inwards, educate yourself and others. LISTEN, READ, SHARE, DONATE and VOTE. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

“Talking about race can be really uncomfortable for everyone,” Styles elaborates. “I had a realization that my own comfort in the conversation has nothing to do with the problem — like that’s not enough of a reason to not have a conversation. Looking back, I don’t think I’ve been outspoken enough in the past. Using that feeling has pushed me forward to being open and ready to learn. … How can I ensure from my side that in 20 years, the right things are still being done and the right people are getting the right opportunities? That it’s not a passing thing?”

His own record company — and corporate parent Sony Music Group, whose chairman, Rob Stringer, signed Styles in 2016 — has been grappling with these same questions as the industry has faced its own reckoning with race. At issue: inequality among the upper ranks (an oft-cited statistic: popular music is 80% Black, but the music business is 80% white); contracts rooted in a decades-old system that many say is set up to take advantage of artists, Black artists more unfairly than white; and the call for a return of master rights, an ownership model that is at the core of the business.

Styles acknowledges the fundamental imbalance in how a major label deal is structured — the record company takes on the financial risk while the artist is made to recoup money spent on the project before the act is considered profitable and earning royalties (typically at a 15% to 18% rate for the artist, while the label keeps and disburses the rest). “Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music,” he says. “There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change.”

By all accounts, Styles is a voracious reader, a movie lover and an aesthete. He stays in shape by adhering to a strict daily exercise routine. “I tried to keep up but didn’t last more than two weeks,” says Hull, Styles’ producer, with a laugh. “The discipline is terrifying.”

Of course, with the fashion world beckoning — Styles recently appeared in a film series for Gucci’s new collection that was co-directed by the fashion house’s creative director, Alessandro Michele, and Oscar winner Gus Van Sant — and a movie that’s set in the 1950s, maintaining that physique is part of the job. And he’s no stranger to visual continuity after appearing in Christopher Nolan’s epic “Dunkirk” and having to return to set for reshoots; his hair, which needed to be cut back to its circa 1940 form, is a constant topic of conversation among fans. This time, it’s the ink that poses a challenge. By Styles’ tally, he’s up to 60 tattoos, which require an hour in the makeup chair to cover up. “It’s the only time I really regret getting tattooed,” he says.

He shows no regret, however, when it comes to stylistic choices overall, and takes pride in his gender-agnostic portfolio, which includes wearing a Gucci dress on that Vogue cover— an image that incited conservative pundit Candace Owens to plead publicly to “bring back manly men.” In Styles’ view: “To not wear [something] because it’s females’ clothing, you shut out a whole world of great clothes. And I think what’s exciting about right now is you can wear what you like. It doesn’t have to be X or Y. Those lines are becoming more and more blurred.”

But acclaim, if you can believe it, is not top of mind for Styles. As far as the Grammys are concerned, Styles shrugs, “It’s never why I do anything.” His team and longtime label, however, had their hearts set on a showing at the Jan. 31 ceremony. Their investment in Styles has been substantial — not just monetarily but in carefully crafting his career in the wake of such icons as David Bowie, who released his final albums with the label. Hope at the company and in many fans’ hearts that Styles would receive an album of the year nomination did not come to pass. However, he was recognized in three categories, including best pop vocal album.

“It’s always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff,” Styles says. “I think it’s important when making any kind of art to remove the ego from it.” Citing the painter Matisse, he adds: “It’s about the work that you do when you’re not expecting any applause.”

#harry styles #variety #021220

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hldailyupdate · 4 years ago

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This Charming Man: Why We’re Wild About Harry Styles

Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

Harry for Variety. (2 December 2020)

#harry styles #harry update #article #variety #hldaily #December 2020

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witcherslittledove · 4 years ago

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All Tied Up

Joey Batey/Henry Cavill RPF - Also on AO3

Rating: E

Summary: All of the things Joey had expected from his first day back on set, he hadn't expected to spend the morning in a harness and chained up. And he really hadn't expected Henry to be staring at him like that. It was going to be a hard day.

CW: Light spoilers for Blood of Elves, bondage, references to torture (for Jaskier not Joey), exhibitionism, masturbation, hand jobs, frottage, multiple orgasms

Thanks to @jaskiertheflowertwink for being my beta!

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Joey tugged at the cuffs of Jaskier’s doublet, it felt strange to be back on set after so many months away, trapped in his flat with Madeleine. Luckily, Jaskier was an easy character to settle into, almost like a second skin. The bard was eager to come out and play, taking the edge off of Joey’s anxiety. With Jaskier, he almost forgot how much he fucking hated other people. Still, not even Jaskier could save him from first day nerves, and Lauren hadn’t started his shoot off easy. Joey was diving straight into a torture scene, and he would be spending the majority of the day hung up from the ceiling in ropes and shackles, waiting for darling Anya to come and save him. It wouldn’t be real of course, there would be harnesses and all sorts of wires to make sure he wasn’t injured, but it wouldn’t be comfortable. The harness was already bulking out his costume, and chafing the insides of his thighs.

And after the mess of the pandemic, Joey wasn’t sure how he felt about losing control and being trapped for the afternoon. It unnerved him. He wanted to be free, and thought of the shackles around his wrists just… nope.

“Hey?” Henry came up from behind him, a hand squeezing his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Yeah. I’m fine,” Joey mumbled, staring up at the set. “First day back and all. It’s like being back at school.”

“You’ll be fine, Joey. You’re an incredible actor and I couldn’t ask for a better bard,” Henry reassured him, his voice low and gravelly in Joey’s ear. It was unreasonably hot. Honestly, Joey knew that Henry was fucking Superman but did he really have to be so godlike, and on top of that he was a complete dork.

Perhaps Joey could invite him to a D&D game once they were done shooting season two. Would that be too weird? It was probably too weird. They were just colleagues. Christ, Joey hadn’t even seen Henry since they’d finished promoting the show the year before. He really needed to get a grip, and ignore Jaskier’s voice in the back of his head. They were not best friends, and Henry would not want to play a shitty Dungeons and Dragons game with him.

Okay. Not shitty. His games were pretty fucking brilliant, but Henry would be too busy with his PC games, and his War Hammer and whatever cooler nerd stuff that he got up to in between his work outs and eating far too many chicken breasts and smoothies.

Jesus Christ, he missed Madeleine.

He didn’t say any of that aloud, no, that was for the safety of his own thoughts, racing at a million miles per hour. Instead, he channeled Jaskier and laughed, hiding his anxiety behind the more confident mask that had fooled millions of people into loving him. “Now, now, witcher,” he teased. “We both know you don’t mean that, what was it you said? If life could give me one blessing.”

“Oh fuck that, we’ve both read the books,” Henry groused, rolling his eyes.

His very, very blue eyes. He was in full make-up except for the yellow contacts and it was just weird to see Henry’s eyes looking back at him from Geralt’s face. It was confusing. Were they Henry and Joey right now? Or Geralt and Jaskier?

Perhaps a weird blend of the two.

And it was only the first fucking day.

Joey chuckled, “Yeah, talking of which, why are you here, Henry? I don’t recall Geralt being Jaskier’s Prince Charming in this scene.”

Henry shrugged. “It’s your first day, I wanted to see how you are.”

Joey swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling dry, and he flicked his fringe from his eyes, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He wanted to run his hands through his hair but the poor hair and make-up team would have his balls in a vice if he tried. It was bad enough that he kept pulling at his costume, but luckily he seemed to have made fidgeting into a characteristic for Jaskier. He grinned, settling back into the character more than ever. “So, you came to see me all tied up?”

Henry, the bastard, winked. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Joey squeaked, feeling his cheeks heat up beneath the make-up. He tried to laugh it off but holy fucking cock balls… was Henry actually flirting with him? And about bondage of all things. Fuck. He was not going to survive the day, not if Henry was watching him.

No. It was going to be fine. He was an actor, a professional. He wasn’t going to get hard on set just because his unfairly attractive co-star was watching him. The harness was uncomfortable. He’d probably be in pain and there would be an entire crew watching him. There was absolutely no reason to get hard.

So… naturally… he got hard.

Getting into the rigging was awkward and possibly the least sexy thing he had ever done in his entire life, which was really saying something. The shackles around his wrist didn’t hurt at first but his arms became tired quickly. He opted to stay in the rigging as much as he could between takes though. It was better for continuity and, well, if he was being truly honest with himself, he was enjoying the way Henry looked at him. It was intense, not dissimilar to how Geralt looked at Yennefer whenever she entered the room, but this time that burning desire wasn’t directed at Anya, it was directed at him… and Henry wasn’t acting.

It was all incredibly distracting, but having Henry there made him completely forget about his previous anxiety of being tied up for the morning. Something about the other actor’s presence was grounding and Joey trusted Henry not to let him get hurt, more than he trusted the crew, which was completely stupid and probably the result from some teenage crush. He was lucky that he only flubbed his lines a couple of times, and by the time Yennefer flew into the room, he was aching and desperate to return to his trailer.

He’d never been so grateful for Jaskier’s baggy clothes.

“Ah, umm, Lauren?” he stammered, rubbing his wrists. They were sore, and he really needed to stretch out his arms, maybe have a nap too. Fuck, he was really out of shape. Lockdown had really been a curse. “Can we take a breather?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck and giving the showrunner a sheepish smile. “I umm.. I need a break.”

“Oh yeah, sure. You’ve done brilliant work today, Joey. Let’s take a half hour everyone!”

Joey all but ran back to his trailer, shuffling awkwardly as he tried to hide his erection as best he could. Occasionally he stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders back so that if anyone saw him then they would think he just needed to recover from the physical exertion of being strung up like a puppet for most of the morning. He was sure that he looked like a state, his doublet was torn and bloody and his shirt barely covering his torso. The makeup team had had far too much fun spraying him with fake blood and dirt. He hadn’t been allowed to shave for a couple of days and heavy film makeup was caked on his face, making him seem bloodied and bruised. His lips itched from where they had been made to look split…

And everyone was staring at him.

Fuck.

He supposed he was usually the one that wasn’t covered in shit. The worst he’d had was the djinn wound from season one, but normally he was all bright doublets and smiles. Sometimes a little bit mucky, but nothing like this.

And Jesus Christ, he really needed a wank.

Why on god’s earth had Henry been staring at him like that? Did the bastard know how it affected him? He probably knew. Fuck, cocking shit balls! He was in trouble. Joey was still trying to break into the industry, if fucking Superman lodged a sexual harassment complaint against him then he was done for. He’d never work again…

But then again, Henry hadn’t been looking at him like he was angry. No, he’d been looking at him like he wanted to eat Joey alive, get down on his knees and get his mouth around Joey’s cock whilst he’d still been suspended in the rigging, the shackles caught around his wrists, unable to move…

“Fucking cock!” Joey slammed through the door to his trailer, fiddling with the fastenings of Jaskier’s trousers as soon as he was inside. His cock was already leaking in his boxers, throbbing and desperate for relief. He bit back a moan as he thumbed the slit, collecting the precum on his fingers and sliding it down the length of his cock. Waves of pleasure washed over him, and he closed his eyes, picturing Henry’s blue eyes, dark and wanting, his pretty pink lips stretched around Joey’s cock.

He barely managed to stumble to the bed, his legs shaking, head already spinning. It wasn’t going to take him long, he’d been far too keyed up all morning, and with Henry at the forefront of his mind, he was tumbling towards his orgasm faster than he would have liked. Joey moaned, biting his lip as he stroked his cock, the memories of the day fuelling his fantasies. It felt so fucking good and soon he felt a familiar tug at his core.

“Joey, are you alright?”

“Shit!” Joey gasped as he came all over his hand, but the pleasure seeped from his body, leaving him feeling hollow and dissatisfied, “For fuck’s sake, Henry! Fucking knock!”

Henry was staring back at him, blue eyes, silver hair, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and looking like a fucking god. The bastard smirked and crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow. Joey had a sinking feeling in his chest.

“You- you did knock?”

Henry chuckled, his low gravelly laugh that sent shivers down Joey’s spine. There was a reason he spent much of their time on set trying to make Henry laugh. It was a gorgeous and beautiful sound, and Joey was completely addicted. He would quite happily spend the rest of his life trying to make Henry laugh… although that made him sound a lot more infatuated than he actually was, right?

They were just friends.

And Henry was a very attractive friend, friend? Co-star? Fuck!

“I am so sorry, Henry,” Joey whined, pulling a pillow in front of his face to try and hide his embarrassment but Henry wasn’t having any of it. He sat down next to Joey on the bed, gently pulling the pillow from his hands.

“Don’t apologise,” he said hoarsely, “I shouldn’t have walked in. I heard you moaning. It wasn’t exactly a hard jump to make… pun intended.”

Despite himself, Joey snorted and whacked Henry on the arm with his clean hand. “You arse!”

“What?”

“I’m actually dying of embarrassment and you’re making dick jokes!”

Henry smirked. “Sorry, I thought you’d be up to it.”

“Fuck off!”

“Oh come now, Joey.. it’s just a joke.”

Joey whined. “I hate you.”

And then Henry was suddenly in his space, so close that he could feel the warm tingle of the other actor’s breath on his cheeks. Lips brushed against his ear, and despite already cumming, he felt heat prickle over his skin and he mouth was dry. “I don’t think you do,” Henry whispered, his voice dropping to a low base, not dissimilar to the accent he used for Geralt.

Joey took a shaky breath, very aware that his cock was still on display, covered in his spend, already twitching, trying to get hard again. “What- What are you doing, Henry?”

“Tell me to stop, Joey, I’ll leave and we never have to talk about it,” Henry breathed, pressing a kiss to Joey’s neck, nosing along his jaw.

“I-I… no. Don’t stop…”

“Seeing you today, chained up, Christ, Joey. It was so fucking hot, and then you were hard. I bet you could hardly resist cumming in your pants like a fucking teenager, and with everyone watching you,” Henry growled in his ear, the actors fingers now stroking along Joey’s thighs, higher, creeping closer to his slowly hardening cock. Joey whined, pressing his head into Henry’s shoulder, “but I think you like that, don’t you Joey?”

His cheeks flushed red, burning hot right up to his ears. “Fuck off.”

“Or was it just me watching you?”

“Hnnng.”

“Can I touch you?” Henry asked, his voice sounding almost as wrecked as Joey felt, “We don’t have long but, god, I’ve been wanting to touch you since you walked into the reading room that first day all those years ago.”

“Wh-what?”

“You seemed so shy, then you started reading and you just melted into Jaskier’s character. It was fucking amazing. You’re amazing.”

Joey whimpered. “Henry, please.”

And then Henry’s hand finally wrapped around his cock. The effect was instantaneous. Joey keened, bucking into Henry’s hand as his second orgasm began to build, his poor cock already sensitive but he was craving more, he wanted to feel that overwhelming pleasure that had been so cruelly stolen from him. Henry covered Joey’s hand with his own, gathering a mess of sticky white fluid and then continued to stroke down the length of Joey’s cock.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Hmm.. uh huh.. Yup,” Joey stammered, lost to his pleasure, his head feeling hazy, almost floaty, but he didn’t need anymore words as Henry’s lips crashed against his. Moans and grunts and gasps were muffled by the kiss, and Henry shifted on the bed so he was sitting over Joey, one of Joey’s legs pressed against his clothed cock.

If Joey had any more sense left in him, he might have offered to get Henry off at the same time, but he was too far gone, babbling nonsense in between kisses, curses, moans, wordless cries. Henry seemed more than happy to thrust against his leg, grunting as he moved to suck kisses onto Joey’s neck.

“Henry, god! Oh fuck!” Joey keened, his back arching off the bed. “I-I… fuck!”

His eyes squeezed shut as he came, sparks flying across his vision and his head rolled back onto the pillow. His energy seemed to drain as the waves of pleasure took over his body, Henry’s hand stroking him through his orgasm, still rutting against his leg until he came with a strangled moan. Henry collapsed on top of Joey, breathing heavily, silver strands of hair getting in Joey’s mouth and eyes.

“Urgh, get off me,” he groaned. “Heavy and you have so much fucking hair!”

“Blame Sapkowski,” Henry grumbled but rolled over, lying next to him on the bed.

They both stared up at the ceiling, panting as they tried to catch their breaths. It should have felt weird, fucking his apparently not straight co-star in the middle of takes… but, well, it sort of just felt right?

Joey laughed, turning to face Henry. “Make-up are gonna kill us.”

“Costume too,” the other actor groaned.

“And Lauren if we don’t get back…”

“Yeah.”

Their eyes met and it was no use. They both reached for each other, their lips meeting once more in a feverish kiss. It wouldn’t hurt if they were a little late… right?

#joey batey/henry cavill #joey/henry #the witcher rpf #rpf

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etherealluminescence · 4 years ago

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Hi! I've been reading your work and really enjoy it and I was wondering if you could take in my request, I've been watching Rent a Girlfriend recently and the idea got into my head, how would the brothers react to an MC who's in the Rent a Girlfriend business, thank you for taking your time in reading my request!

Hey anon! Thanks for asking. This was a pretty fun request since I’ve seen a lot of videos on people renting moms, so naturally I watched part of the first episode of the anime to just get the general idea of renting girlfriends, so this was pretty fun!

Edit : the tags are being whack so I redid them sorry if it’s spam but it won’t pop up for me under the tags.

Brothers react to a rent-a-girlfriend MC!

You didn’t specify gender even if it’s a rent-a-girlfriend so I just stated the MC takes in both male and female clients. I also think succubusses or incubusses would cover the renting business so this is sort of a new idea in devildom for people to be rented and just talk or go on a date.

Lucifer

Lucifer had already known this, as he was the one to pick you to come to devildom.

He was not particularly fond of the idea, just selling yourself for a few quick bucks. Sounds like something Mammon would do.

Before you tell him about your idea of wanting to start the business here in devildom, he tells you no.

You defiantly tell him it’s your income, and he snaps back with Diavolo will pay for everything you could ever need. You yell back at him that you don’t want to use other people’s money, and you want to use what you’ve earned.

Your responses causes him to pause for a second. Those are good morals to have, but he will not faulter.

“The devildom is filled with demons, what do you mean you want to go on a date with one? Even if it makes you money you could die.”

If somehow you convince him to let you, your dates will be watched by him or one of the brothers, have to make sure the human doesn’t die or the exchange will be ruined.

If you aren’t able to convince him he will keep you under watch still to make sure you don’t try anything rash, and gives you money anytime you need it.

After you get close to him he tells you to hold yourself to higher standards, as you’re better than all these lesser demons. He cares for you and wants you to know you’re worth more than just 6,000 an hour.

Mammon

When you first came to devildom, you were worried about your income. Sure they could provide you money, but would it even be enough??

Since Mammon was your guide, you consulted him about it. He was pleased to hear you both have the same mindset, wanting to make money and spend it.

Talking about jobs, you brought up what you did in the human world, which was letting people rent yourself.

At first he was like how did that work? Was it an easy way to make money? Zero judgement from him, because if you can make money, you’re doing pretty good.

You told him how you set up an online profile and charged people around 6,000 from an hour for being on a date. They can hold your hand and make conversation with you, and curtesy of them pay for your lunch or trip. You take both male and female clients, it brought in a lot of money.

Sign him up. You mean the Great Mammon could make 6,000 grimm, get free food, and it’s just an hour of his time? Even he couldn’t screw up looking pretty and using a few manners.

He told you not to worry about money anymore and told you to change your devilgram profile to one of those online dating ones you told him about. You’re both about to get payday.

When he gets attached to you he’s just somewhat pissed, because you’re his human!! But he supports your choices because it’s your income and something you’ve always done, plus he’s in the same industry now, so you’re closer to him than anyone else.

Leviathan

This man has probably dreamed of renting a girlfriend/boyfriend, lets be honest.

People like Levi were easily some of your most frequent clients. People who don’t know how to socially interact and want experience, whether it be talking to another person who puts up with them for an hour, or to get experience in dating.

Naturally, you approached him. He had a ton of figures, so of course he would have money.

It was a whole process you were NOT expecting. This man had room passwords, curses, and even refused to look you in the eye?? How did you think it was a smart idea to approach him for money. But you were determined.

After the whole process, you finally managed to talk to him about your job. You told him you would even let him rent you if he wanted as subtly as you could.

He understands pretty fast that you want cash, and that his inexperience led you to come find him. He’s very upset, not at your job, but at your way of finding clients.

Of course you would approach yucky otakus who can’t speak to other people or do anything other than use a controller... and are desperate.

But before he can throw a tantrum, he lets his desire get the best of him. He’s always wanted to do something like this, but was he really going to pay a human 6,000 grimm an hour for some company? That’s expensive!

The answer was yes. Yes he was.

He genuinely enjoys it, you two spend time playing games in his room, he calls you a normie and teaches you how to get better, secrets in the games, and talks to you about anime since you’re listening and even providing feedback.

He has returned to heaven.

He asks if you two could do it again, and you happily agree. Overtime, however, you charge less and less for Levi to almost no cost at all. You tell him it’s a regulars discount.

In reality you’ve just grown really attached to him and love how adorable he is, and don’t want him to suddenly go broke and tell you that you two can’t hang out anymore.

After you two are close you can bet that you can enter his room whenever and just play games with him, curtesy of extended service.

Satan

You approached Satan as he was leaving the dorms to go out and buy groceries, and told him you wanted to go with him to find people to rent you.

He was perplexed.

Did he hear that right? You want demons to rent you? Like pay for you? Are you a masochist?

You explained to him that it’s just your job to sell yourself for dates for near 6,000 grimm an hour, and he thought that was peculiar.

He has read plenty of books about humans, but he had never heard of anything like this in human culture. Is it something they developed recently?

You explained to him in more detail all about the business and he’s listening intently. So much so he forgets to buy groceries that night, just listening to you happily explain your job.

He finds it interesting and learns a lot about human emotions, what they think, and even a lot about you. He proposes and idea to you that even you think is funny.

“How about we piss off Lucifer? You can get a date and I’ll watch over you to see that nothing bad happens. When it’s over you hide by the door and I’ll come in alone with groceries and say that you are on a date while I was grocery shopping.”

The thought of angry and concerned Lucifer brought his sadistic side out and he laughed. The pleasure he would get from watching Lucifer frantically search outside for the human while he sneaks you in is amazing.

This is actually what leads you and Satan to become closer, and he respects your job. It makes you money and you get to learn about people, and afterwards you can tell him the little habits people had or what they were thinking, things he was interested in.

Asmodeous

Bold of you to assume Asmo is not already a type of rent-a-boyfriend.

He has a new fling every week, the payment is their body, and he has a lot of people in line for him.

Joking aside when you asked Asmodeous about clubbing with him, he was ecstatic. Of course the little human would want to be with him, and of course they would choose clubbing over staying at the dorms.

What he didn’t expect was you to follow up with “How rich are the demons there? I want to charge them 6,000 per hour they spend with me.”

You sounded like Mammon, and that left him confused for a few seconds before you continued.

“I’m in the rent-a-date business. I charge 6,000 for an hour of my time, male or female, people in clubs are desperate.”

After that, Asmo started to understand and fully supported it. Although you don’t get sex out of it, you’re gaining money by accompanying someone, what a smart idea.

He helps you in the club to find desperate people and get you your cash. “Get it girl!” Asmo claps to you and winks as you approach people who might be interested in your service.

Asmo feels very proud of you after you get a lot of responses of people who are interested. Even though you did all the work.

Even after Asmo gets attached to you, he respects your choices, but likes going out in public or doing double dates with you. Like a fun mixer but you’re being paid to be there.

Beelzebub

You approached Beel because you wanted a bodyguard.

He was big, tall, and a friendly baby from what you could see. And he seems to be easily bought over by food.

You knew you wanted to make money, so why not continue your human world business? The one problem was these were demons and not humans. They could easily kill you.

You asked Beel to accompany you from afar for one-three hours on certain days, for a third of your profits and lunch each time.

You explained your job to him, although he may be gentle and kind from what you’ve seen, what if he doesn’t understand?

He’s generally a very understanding person, and tells you it’s okay with him and he does not mind.

He would of accopanied you without your offer because he’s worried for you, but he takes the food anyways. He’s happy you came to him and thought about your safety above money first, because he wouldn’t want to see you hurt.

Beel is completely nonjudgmental no matter what happens. He’s seen you put on a smile and lie through your teeth about having a good time of being on dates, but he supports your choices.

He overtime loves spending time with you and is really happy to protect you, because you’re like a little sibling to him. You always rely on him and he will protect you.

Please give this man extra dessert for lunch, thanks.

Belphegor

You were coming home late after one of your regular clients booked you for around twelve hours.

Counting... 6k,...24k....60k...

Before you could finish Belphie was in the kitchen for a late night snack, and scared you when he suddenly spoke.

“MC what are you doing? It’s four am right now and I couldn’t find you earlier.”

That’s right, he didn’t know of your job yet because he was in the attic for so long, and this is the longest you’ve been rented since you first came.

You explained to him what you did as a part time job, and he was sort of pissed. How could you just sell your body?

You explained that it’s nothing like that, and that you sell your time. You make conversation and go on dates.

He is still extremely pissed. What date takes twelve hours? And why wouldn’t you spend that time napping with him??

He’s very jealous that other people get to spend time with you, people that don’t matter. Compared to all his brothers he’s spent little time with you and then he has to compete with strangers?

Stupid concept, if someone approached him and told him they’d date him for 6’000 and hour he’d look at them like they’re missing brain cells.

Even stupider concept that they let MC go on dates!! With demons!! Literally his first real encounter with them was him trying to kill them. Demons are no different.

Tells MC they need to stop or else he will join them. This is a threat.

MC laughs it off and tells him they can’t suddenly stop their business, and Belphie can’t come on their dates.

Belphie proposes the idea that he rents MC 24/7 but he pays them in cuddles and naps.

First time MC was ever offered such a long job and a cute way of payment. Accepted.

#obey me #obey me hc #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons

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