#i say that but it's always possible that i could practice camera angles by photographing my nendoroids?? maybe??

[crest-of-gautier]

assortment of screenshots from the zelda splatfest back in may! marie truck exploit i miss you every day...

[folkloreguk]

Paris (optional bias)

A/N: This is just something short I’ve had in my drafts for so long and I’ve finally finished it...there’s not much storyline but I swear it’s really sweet and I hope you like it x

genre: photographer!bias, suggestive themes, some kissing and cuddling, just two people on holiday and deeply in love tbh (pls send me some tissues)

words: 1.4 k

“Stay still baby,” he demanded, but not in a rough tone. It was gentle, a little sleepy. You chuckled, hearing the familiar click.

“You look so gorgeous in this light,” he mumbled, his face hidden behind his camera. The curtains of the hotel room were pulled away slightly, so the golden evening light could enter. You were going to get up, but now you fell back into bed, giving in to your boyfriend. Your hair was messy, your makeup even messier. Your clothes were everywhere but on your body.

For a moment you gazed at your boyfriend as he tried to photograph you from the perfect angle. He’d always preferred watching the world through a lens rather than just his eyes. Until you had come along. In you, he had found a new challenge. Oh, how many times you had heard him complain about how he couldn’t seem to capture your beauty in a photo. As if you were some part of nature that simply was too beautiful to fit into a picture. He had compared you to the night sky, a roaring waterfall, the light of the setting sun and fireworks – all his favourite things, basically. Although you didn’t agree. When it was hard to see your beauty in the mirror, one look at the collection of photos on your wall sufficed. Seeing yourself through his eyes made you feel like you were enough. More than enough, in fact. You understood a little better what he saw in you, and slowly you had also started seeing the good, beautiful things in yourself.

It had been a year since he had asked you to be his girlfriend. For your anniversary, you had booked a trip – your first holiday together, in fact. Now it was just the two of you, together, in a strange city. Without a care in the world. That’s what you had agreed on.

You spent your time in bed, exploring the streets where even tourists weren’t found, trying all of the local food and then spending more time in bed. As always, your boyfriend couldn’t put his camera down. Not even in his holidays. But you didn’t mind because you knew it made him happy. And when he was happy, so were you.

His hair was probably even messier than yours, but it made you smile to know you had made it that way. He grinned, watching you through his lens.

“Can I please go to the bathroom now?” you asked, stretching on top of the blankets.

“If you come back quickly,” he answered, and you laughed.

“Don’t worry,” you joked. Your legs were a little weak as you got up. You could still feel where he had touched you, making your cheeks heat up.

When you entered the bedroom again, he had taken your spot on the bed. The last sun rays were now catching in his sparkling eyes, tangling in his hair and dunking his skin in a golden, glowing light. His bare chest was rising and falling steadily and he had draped the sheets over his lower body lazily. He looked at you as if you were the rarest sight in the world, some mythical creature only the luckiest got the chance to encounter once in a lifetime and like you held all the answers to the universe all at once. An overwhelming feeling of love overcame you at the sight of him.

As soon as your leg touched the bed, he opened his arms for you. Smiling, you clung to him as he stroked your hair and kissed your forehead. Even though you were thousands of miles away, you had never felt more at home than in that moment. Your safe place was wherever he was.

Softly, his hands wandered across your skin, drawing random patterns. Sometimes he touched you as if you were artwork at a museum. Too fragile and too precious, maybe even forbidden to lay his hands on. Other times, he dug his fingers deeply into your skin and pulled you flush against his hot body, trapping you under his weight and making it hard for you to breathe with his feverish kisses. His light chuckle rang ever so delightfully in your ears as he noticed the dark hickeys on your chest. His personal masterpiece, only for you to see. If he was the artist, you were his muse and his canvas. The touch tickled you a little. When he traced the dark shapes on your skin you shivered, and when his fingertips came close to your nipples your heart skipped a beat or two. Softly, you swatted his hand away.

“Still haven’t had enough?” you asked.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” he said. You didn’t blame him. If anything, you had never related more. You had just closed your eyes, trying to listen to the way his heart was beating underneath your head, when he rolled over on top of you. When you looked up at him, he had already lowered his head to kiss you. Without your control, your lips curled into a smile. Compared to earlier, when his kisses had been so full of passion and need, they now felt soft, like candy cotton clouds on your skin. Your lips moved slow enough for you to consciously notice every little sensation. The way his hair tickled your forehead, his nose brushing against yours, and his hand intertwining with yours next to your head. Deeply, you breathed in, only to sigh because his scent overtook all your senses with a rush you thought one could only receive from consuming drugs.

His bare chest against yours was warm and your legs tangled with the blankets by your feet. Through the gap in the window you heard the lively song of birds and chatter of both other tourists and residents in the city. Physically, they were just outside, a few levels lower, on the street. But your head was miles away from it all. It was all heart eyes and lips practically quivering with the need to let him know how much you loved him. He beat you to it.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered. “So much. All of you.”

He peppered kisses on your neck and squeezed your hands in his. How come your heart could never get used to these words? Why did it have to jump the way it did, every single time? Not once had you been able to stop the big smile on your face upon hearing the confession – not that you tried hard, because why should you have – and each time you had to regain your composition for a few seconds, until you could return those words.

“So am I,” you said. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Yesterday you said the ice cream shop downtown was the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” he teased, a smile evident in his voice.

“That was an exaggeration, obviously,” you said. “If you hadn’t been there with me, it would have only been a fifth as delicious.”

“Thank god,” he said, exaggerating. “I almost thought I had lost against some chocolate ice cream there.”

“Come here, silly,” you said. He raised his head from your neck and grinned. Sometimes you were nearly convinced he could have cured any problem with his handsome smile. But the look he was giving you was reserved only for you. It was saying words without having to speak and held countless memories from the past.

“You’re my favourite person in the whole universe,” you said. “And yes, I do know that none of the aliens out there could possibly be better than you. But I do hope we go back to that ice cream shop tonight.”

His eyes had gone from loving to amused and back to loving. Gently, his lips met yours again. The kiss only lasted for a short while, but it said enough.

“We can go back there,” he said. “Do you wanna go for dinner now? Down by the river?”

“Let’s stay like this, just five minutes longer, alright?” you asked. You weren’t quite ready to lose his warmth on your skin and to leave this little, perfect world inside the hotel room just yet. In fact, if it was possible, you’d drag out the moment forever. And he seemed to agree. He hummed and nodded quietly. The next time his lips met yours, you didn’t let him pull away so fast. Five minutes, half an hour, an hour, what even was time when you were with him?  

[writerpeach]

Shutter

Fromis_9 Saerom x Male Reader

5223 words

Categories: smut, oral, model! saerom

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

It’s not every day that a model walked into your studio who by every definition of the word, was perfect.

Dozens of gorgeous women came by each and every week, each one more beautiful than the last and you couldn’t ask for a better job.

The elevator doors opened and the woman scheduled for your afternoon appointment stepped inside your studio on the ninth floor, and you had never seen such an attractive woman with such stunning features.

Calling her gorgeous would almost be an insult. Words could not and would not do her beauty justice, or would be enough to describe how attractive she was.

She had dark shoulder-length hair and walked with confidence in an elegant looking black and grey dress and her sexy aura filled the studio.

“Hello, I’m Saerom!” she shyly introduced herself, a small smile on her rosy red lips and you melted just by hearing her voice.

“Nice to meet you, Saerom,” you replied.

“Please take care of me,” she said and bowed politely. Her hair and makeup styled perfectly, nothing looked out of place and the smile on her face only made her look even more beautiful.

“Shall we get started, Miss Saerom?”

Saerom nodded and you directed her to the set as you still had a few things to set up beforehand. She stood against the white backdrop, eyes roaming the bright lights and other equipment spewed everywhere, tripods and lights all ensuring that each model looked as best as you could make them look.

You readied your camera and glanced at Saerom, realizing how busty she was and what a curvy deadly body her dress showed off.

“Ready when you are,” you said as you removed your lens cap, giving one final check to all your equipment hoping to somehow do justice to the actual goddess standing in front of you.

Saerom flashed her best smile as you pressed the camera shutter and took the first shot of the shoot, capturing her beauty as best as possible. Her side profile was perfect, her features flawless in a way that they had been sculpted by the gods. Her striking jawline, her cute nose, her perfectly formed lips. The ideal woman put together as if to say it won’t get better than this.

Your finger moved faster than a cheetah hunting a prey, taking hundreds of shots per minute as Saerom displayed a variety of poses and facial expressions, each one perfect in their own way.

“How am I doing?” she asked.

“You’re doing amazing. The camera loves you.”

Truer words had never come out of your mouth. Saerom behind a camera was a natural fit, her smile beaming with confidence, every pose and angle flawless as she was. After all, when you’re being paid to be beautiful for a living you’ve really made it.

“Make sure to capture my best side.”

“You don’t have a bad side,” you responded. Saerom blushed cutely.

Two hours flew by, Saerom’s experience playing a huge part and even with makeup touch-ups and additional wardrobe changes there was time to spare.

“That should be a wrap. Thank you for your hard work, Miss Saerom” you said. You never wanted to stop taking pictures of her and definitely took more than necessary, but more was always better than less.

“Can I see some?” Saerom eagerly asked.

“It’ll take some time to get them all transferred and processed if you don't mind waiting,” you said as you removed the card from your camera and slipped it inside your laptop on the nearby table.

“Not at all! I’ll wait over here,” she said as she took a seat on the nearby black leather couch.

You had taken literally thousands of pictures and it would take some time to add them all, much less edit them. Sorting quickly through a handful of different outfits and looks you picked the best ones, doing a quick edit on them before transferring them over to the large monitor next to your laptop.

You gestured for Saerom to come over and she scurried over right away. Her eyes grew wide as she looked through the handpicked batch of pictures, proud of the hard work both of you had put in and the satisfying results.

“You’re an amazing photographer,” she shyly said.

“An artist is only as good as their art,” you replied, almost regretting spewing out such a cheesy line but earning another smile out of Saerom.

“We still have some time left don’t we?” she asked. Most of your appointments were scheduled in three-hour blocks, allowing plenty of time for preparations and in case something went wrong. And something almost always went wrong.

“You are correct, Miss Saerom.”

“Perfect. Can you shoot some more of me then?”

“I’d love to.”

Saerom returned to the set, the look on her face uncertain as you went to set up your camera again.

“I don’t have any more outfits to wear,” she said, unsure of herself.

“There’s a closet in the corner with spare outfits, I don’t know your size but they should fit.”

Saerom hesitated for a moment. “That won’t be necessary.”

In a moment’s notice, Saerom acted on impulse and shedded her dress, baring her immaculate body and the incredibly sexy pair of matching lace black lingerie underneath. You weren’t expecting this moment of spontaneity and your jaw dropped.

“What?” she smirked. “You’ve shot women in lingerie before haven’t you?”

“Y-yes, but-”

“Then you won’t mind me getting more comfortable will you?”

“N-not at all-”

“Good.”

Saerom continued with a playful smile and kicked her heels off to the side, leaving her standing in the middle of the set barefoot in her underwear, the insane curves of her tight body front and center for your viewing pleasure.

Her full breasts were barely covered, showing abundant cleavage and the flimsy piece of lace did little to contain them, showing off the size of her perfect chest as if they wanted to escape from their prison. Her gorgeous legs led up to soft creamy thighs, and Saerom’s toned abs looked as delicious as the rest of her body, clearly the result of hours of work at the gym.

"Incredible," you said in awe.

"Like what you see?" Saerom asked with a cute giggle. You found yourself speechless.

"I've always wanted to be an underwear model. My company would never let me though, they love protecting my image," Saerom said sarcastically as her eyes rolled.

"You certainly have the perfect body for it."

"Thank you," Saerom said as her cheeks reddened. "I work very hard for it."

"It shows."

Saerom switched from shy and cute to sexy instantaneously as she flipped her hair seductively, running her hands through it as she lifted her arms over her head. Your camera shutter went crazy as you started shooting your newly undressed model, not wanting to waste a second.

"How do I look?" she asked as she bit her lip.

"You're very sexy, Saerom."

"Am I? How about some closeup shots then?"

Without even responding you practically ripped your heavy camera from its tripod as you detached it, closing the distance between you Saerom, taking a deep breath as you approached.

“Think of these as exclusive shots. Just for us,” Saerom said, showing off to the camera.

While the previous shoot was rather professional, Saerom was rather quiet for the majority of it, focusing on her poses and angles. Now that she was opening up in more ways than one you wanted to get to know her.

“Tell me something about yourself, Saerom.”

“What would you like to know?” she asked, pouting her lips at the camera.

“Something...interesting.”

“Interesting?” she pondered. “I share a place with eight other girls.”

“Eight? That’s insane. I can’t imagine how long the line for the bathroom is.”

“You get used to it, it becomes fun most of the time. Having time on my own like this is actually kind of weird for me now.”

“I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”

Saerom laughed and you could tell she was becoming more comfortable around you,

“It was difficult at first but I think I would be bored living by myself now,” Saerom said as she spun around on her heels and placed her hands on her hips, bending over enough to give a good look at her plump round ass as her eyes kept contact with your camera, trying to keep your pants from tightening.

“Fuck, you have a really nice ass, Saerom,” you blurted out even without thinking. She didn’t seem to mind.

“Thanks. It’s my favorite part of me,” she proudly said.

You couldn’t stop staring at Saerom’s heavenly sculpted backside, wondering how soft those cheeks felt, but you quickly tried chasing those thoughts away as you didn’t want a bulge forming in your pants in front of her.

“You’re one of the best models I’ve had the pleasure to work with,” you said, distracting yourself.

“Really? You’re just saying that to make me feel good.”

“I’m not. Most models that show up don’t give me any trouble, occasionally you’ll get a spoiled diva that shows up late and clearly doesn’t want to be here and it ruins the atmosphere of the whole shoot.”

You made sure to get closeup shots of every part of Saerom’s body, taking extra care in framing her ass perfectly before walking to the front of her sexy body and taking several shots of her wonderful breasts.

“But you walked in and this whole place lit up.”

“That’s sweet.”

“It’s the truth.”

Saerom paused. “What do you think?” Saerom asked, cupping her breasts. You felt your heart racing.

“They’re perfect.”

“How about a closer view then?” she asked. You zoomed in and aimed at her chest, but Saerom shyly smiled and aimed your camera down.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before you could put any thought into her words Saerom reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, divesting it from her body as she exposed her sizable pale breasts, bouncing as they were freed.  

“Holy shit, Saerom.”

“How about you put that camera down and we have a little fun?”

Without having a chance to respond you got rid of your camera as Saerom’s topless body walked towards you, your eyes immediately drawn to her full round breasts and salivating over them.

“Do any of your models ever let you touch them?”

“I try to keep things professional.”

“That’s boring,” Saerom said with a seductive smirk as she grabbed your hands and guided them to her breasts, helping you squeeze them. You moaned at their softness and how they fit in your hands, the weight of her breasts, and how perfectly shaped they were made you lose your mind.

“You’re so perfect,” you said as you squeezed and groped Saerom’s tits, squeezing two perfect handfuls as her pretty pink nipples hardened against your palms as she looked into your eyes. The fabric of your pants constricted and there was no stopping it this time.

“You can touch all you want. Taste me.”

“I will,” you said hungrily as you crashed your lips against hers and wrapped your hands around her bare waist, The taste of Saerom’s cherry lips entered your mouth. You pulled her in tighter as she returned your advances, tongues dancing together as the scent of her perfume lingered in the air. You wanted Saerom, bad. You wanted to rip her panties off and fuck her against your set, forcing to pace yourself and keep yourself under control.

You broke the kiss and exchanged lustful stares, not wasting a second as you dove into her breasts, licking stripes up and down her cleavage, and brought your mouth to her tits and teased her sensitive nipples. Saerom moaned as you flicked delicate circles around each one before sucking tenderly, earning gasps and whiny moans.

Schedules be damned, you took your time with each of her breasts, giving each equal attention and not leaving your hands from her flesh, not moving on until her hard nipples were covered in your saliva.

“Mmm, fuck,” Saerom moaned, caressing your hair as you devoured and buried yourself in her tits. Playful licking turned into loud slurping, and when that wasn’t enough you nibbled on each of her swollen pink nubs, grazing on her stiff nipples in between your teeth gently as her moans grew louder and whinier.

With all of your attention on Saerom’s tits, you sucked and sucked with no intention of stopping until your lips were numb, looking up every so often to see the pleasure running through Saerom.

Meanwhile, with your mouth full of Saerom’s breasts you felt a hand move down to your crotch and squeezed as she felt you up through your pants which became painfully tight.

“I must be turning you on,” she giggled.

“You are, you really are. Fuck, you’re so hot, Saerom,” you growled.

“I could say the same to you,” she said. “I got you all worked up, didn’t I? It’s only fair I do something about it.”

Saerom stopped you in your tracks and led you over to the couch, playfully pushing you against it as you fell down and took a seat. Slowly lowering to her knees she rubbed up and down your thighs, biting her lip, watching as you removed your shirt in preparation.

“How many women have you fucked on this couch?”

“Not enough,” you smirked.

“Time to add one more to your tally then.”

With a sly grin on her pretty face, Saerom unzipped your pants, quickly yanking them with your boxers down to your ankles with your assistance. Your cock sprang free, throbbing in the cold air and Saerom’s eyes went wide at the sight of it.

Saerom licked her lips, feeling an insatiable desire and hunger deep inside her at the sight of your unleashed manhood. As she admired your rock hard shaft, finding herself unable to draw her eyes away as her long slender fingers wrapped tightly around your hard cock, applying firm pressure and began stroking you up and down, feeling every inch.

“You have a very nice cock,” Saerom said, lips curling wide as she pumped you slowly and drizzled her fingers with your leaking pre-cum. She kissed the very tip of your cock, making your whole body jerk as her soft lips explored your cock and traveled down your base.

Every kiss on your shaft was loaded with hunger, and once Saerom reached the end of your cock she flattened her tongue against your base while you watched her every move. You moaned as her wet warm tongue moved slowly up and down your shaft, giving delicate strokes until she found your sensitive tip and swirled around your swollen head, lapping up every leaking drop.

“Yummy,” she said, spitting on your cock several times and spreading it all over your shaft, jerking you off and keeping eye contact.

Saerom kissed your tip one more time before she parted her plump red lips with your cock, taking the first few inches of you into her warm wet mouth.

“Oh f-fuuck,” you moaned loudly as Saerom hollowed her cheeks and sealed her lips tight around your cock. Saerom sucked you off slowly and tenderly while her sexy gaze was glued to you, full lips sliding up and down your shaft.

With constant eye contact Saerom built up your pleasure, taking her time with sucking your cock, enjoying it just as much as she moaned around your shaft.

“Fuck, Saerom," you moaned and threw your head back."That feels fucking good."

She smiled with your cock in her mouth, the bright studio lights letting you see her face perfectly as she began to bob her head up and down, her tongue playing with the underside of your shaft.

Saerom upped her pace as she swallowed more of your cock inside her warm mouth, the redness of her lips fading as her dark lipstick began smearing on your shaft, combined with streaks of her spit.

Her pretty hands did not stay idle, using one to stroke up and down your thigh, digging her nails in as the other cupped and fondled your balls.

“So heavy and full," she said as her nose nudged against your cock and planted messy wet kisses on your balls."I'll make sure they’re empty when I'm done with you."

Saerom continued to pleasure your balls while jerking off your needy cock, licking wide stripes, and glazing your sack with drool. She sucked on each one tenderly, giving your balls equal attention and hungrily slurping on them individually as you moaned louder, letting your satisfaction be known.

Using both her lips and tongue all over your balls, Saerom blew hot air against each of them before bringing your cock back into her mouth. Those deadly eyes glued to your own as she sucked slowly from tip to base, swallowing up every last inch as you hit the back of her throat without any real effort.

“Oh god, Saerom…”

The satisfaction in her eyes was obvious as she took you down her mouth with ease, her throat tightening around you as she relaxed her muscles, not even letting out a single gag.

Her soft wet lips felt so good wrapped around your cock, and you instinctively grabbed the back of her head, guiding her movements as she bobbed faster, lips kissing your base with each stroke.

It wasn’t long before you encouraged an even quicker pace, Saerom hungrily slurping down every inch that impaled her throat, desperately trying not to go wild and fuck her throat as much as you wanted to.

Saerom kept your wet shaft deep down her throat, working her muscles and keeping her lips sealed around every inch as she played with your balls, drooling all over your cock.

"Fuck, Saerom. You're so damn good at that."

"I've had a lot of practice."

Saerom hummed and gave your cock one more slow satisfying slurp from base to tip, releasing it with a loud messy pop as she furiously jerked off your messy wet shaft.

Not even bothering to wipe off leftover spit and lipstick on her face, Saerom's lust-filled gaze focused on you as she made you wait in anticipation.

Keeping your cock in her small delicate hands, Saerom carefully made a show of

sliding her panties down her toned legs, tossing them onto your set.

"A little present from me. Keep them."

With barely any time to react, you stole a glance at Saerom's beautiful bare pussy as she straddled you, the warmth of her naked body radiating around you as her comforting thighs rested against your own.

Saerom really was like no other woman, as cliché as it sounded. You could see it in her eyes that she wanted your cock, not just for her own satisfaction but for yours, aching to share in mutual pleasure.

The way she held your cock in her hand, aiming it between her spread thighs and between the pink wet flesh of her pussy, slowly rubbing it against her folds was agonizing, deliberately teasing both of you with a sly expression on her face.

You understood what she was doing as Saerom continued to run your cock through the wet warmth of her hole, but that didn’t make it any less easy to hold out, each sensation running through your body making it harder to maintain an ounce of composure.

“Saerom…”

She didn’t say a word as she collected her slick on your shaft, mixing it with leftover saliva, coating your cock in her fluids. Saerom thankfully shared your impatience and knew when enough was enough.

“I’m so wet,” Saerom bluntly said, the first set of words that left her lips in several minutes.

In what felt like the longest few seconds of your life Saerom lifted her wide hips up in the air, aiming herself carefully, and sank down on the first few inches of your cock.

Saerom gasped loudly and you shared an equally loud groan at the feeling of penetrating her body, the intense sensation of entering her pussy for the first time was unlike anything else. There was a lot to take in. Saerom’s wetness surrounded your cock as expected, followed by extreme warmth and tightness that overwhelmed you.

Gently moving her body up and down Saerom took it easy at first, letting her wet walls be parted with more of your hard cock, clinging tightly around your shaft that gradually disappeared in between her thighs.

“How do I feel?” Saerom asked as she wrapped her hands around the back of your neck, using her hips and sliding up and down your cock, coating more of your shaft in her juices.

“So fucking tight.”

She beamed at your response, sinking deeper and deeper until she almost bottomed herself out and stopped just above the base of your shaft.

“You feel really good inside me.”

Her eyes closed and her head whipped back as you both moaned together and felt her tight walls squeezing you tightly, letting herself get used to the rock hard flesh fully entering her body.

“I need every inch inside me,” Saerom pleaded, not that you were in a position to stop her, letting her control every movement. You watched between her beautiful thighs every move she made as her slick lips gripped your cock, ensuring you never left the warmth of her body.

In one swift movement, Saerom lifted herself from your cock, moving so just the tip of your shaft was inside her, and slammed her hips down and impaled herself to the hilt, moaning at being completely filled.

“Fuck!”

Saerom didn’t allow herself any adjustment, she didn’t need it and neither did you as she smiled devilishly.

“Ride my cock, Saerom,” you demanded and your orders were followed right away as she began bouncing on your dick, her mouth agape as she threw her head back in pleasure. You snaked your hands around her slim waist and grabbed her ass with both hands, kneading the soft flesh and encouraging her to continue dictating the pace.

“Stretch me out...stretch my tight little pussy just like that. Fuck, I wish I could ride you all day.”

“I could always cancel the rest of my appointments.”

“F-fuck, don’t tempt me. But I have my own schedules after this too,” she frowned.

“Guess we’ll have to schedule another session then.”

Saerom nodded in response and your hands squeezed her cheeks tighter, giving her ass a few quick slaps as she gasped, looking at the way she was falling apart already as she rode you.

Continuing to test the waters you gave repeated smacks against Saerom’s plentiful backside, the satisfying sounds of both raised palms striking her bare cheeks filled your ears. Saerom whined cutely in response as her walls clenched around your cock with each impact, not using enough force to sting but just giving her body a little something extra.

“You like being spanked, Saerom?”

“I-I do.”

“I’ll have to remember that for next time,” you smirked. Saerom took the opportunity to increase the pace, allowing herself to adjust and found the perfect angle to take your shaft inside her, bouncing her delicious big ass on your cock.

“You’re drenched, Saerom. Do you always get this wet?” you asked. She hesitated before shyly nodding.

“It’s mostly your fault,” she timidly replied, establishing a harsher rhythm as she rode you with more intensity and fervor, her perfect set of tits bouncing hypnotically with every movement.

“I take full responsibility.”

Settling into the sharp pleasure Saerom gave in to her desires and rode your cock faster, covering the entire surface of your shaft in her slick as you explored her voluptuous naked body and ran your hands up every inch of her bare skin you had access to.

You started with Saerom’s creamy thighs, caressing them softly before moving on to her sexy toned tummy, feeling her tight sculpted abs against your fingertips. She reacted to every touch audibly as your hands made their way back to her luscious breasts, cupping them and keeping your hands filled as she slammed her ass harder against your cock, creating more pleasure.

"You ride me so well, Saerom," you said as you pinched her nipples, feeling her pussy tightening and more of her juices leaking out. You kept your hands filled with her wonderful pale breasts as her ass repeatedly slammed down on your crotch, using your cock for her pleasure.

"It helps that I love your cock," Saerom said as she rode you faster and faster as sweat began to mist all over of your bodies, thighs crashing against your own with every bounce.

"And I love you creaming all over my cock."

The mere act of Saerom taking your cock in and out of her body with ease was driving you crazy, her hot wet pussy wrapped so tightly around your cock you felt like you could burst at any moment.

You couldn’t keep up with all the sensations running through your body, each time Saerom’s ass smacked against your body brought you closer to the point of no return, her juices flowing down her thighs confirming that she was equally reaching past her own limits.

Saerom's tight pussy began pulsating around your shaft as she became breathless, every forceful slam of her full hips brought down on your body making her wetter and wetter as she was barely able to keep her eyes open.

"Are you close, Saerom?" you asked. It took several moments before she could form an answer, and even then she could only nod in response.

"I need you cumming all over my cock."

"I w-will, fuck. Can you cum with me?"

"I'd love to," you said as desperation and need filled her eyes, knowing neither could hold on much longer. You watched her riding your cock just a little longer before growing tired of being passive and grabbed onto her hips, thrusting deep into her tight dripping cunt as she impaled herself on you.

You wanted every bit of pleasure out of Saerom's body and you were going to take it.

"Oh fuuuck! Just like that!"

It took a few thrusts to find the perfect timing, hitting Saerom's spot at just the right angle, keeping a firm grip on her sweaty body and trying to match her rhythm, both of you working together to achieve your collective goal of reaching climax.

You couldn’t help but stare at her, watching her gorgeous features contorting every time you filled her to the hilt. The air in the room grew harder to take in as you drove yourself in Saerom with desperation, both aching for release. The loud slapping of hot flesh against flesh fought for dominance against the equally loud moaning escaping Saerom’s lips.

“Fuck, fuck, baby, I-I'm gonna cum!" Saerom cried out, the three most beautiful words you had heard all day as you held onto her body tight, preparing yourself for the intensity of what was about to happen.

"I am too, fuck!"

“Cum inside me, please, I need you to fill my tight little pussy,” Saerom begged, and you did everything you could to hold out just long enough to let her achieve orgasm first. You weakly smiled and savored the last few moments before the inevitable.

The final few seconds arrived as your breathing deepened, looking dead center into Saerom’s beautiful eyes filled with need and desire. Without another word you felt Saerom’s juices overflowing as her pussy tightened almost painfully so, thighs trembling violently as her cunt squeezed the life out of your shaft as she came, leaving a mess over your cock and wrapped her arms tighter around the back of your neck and desperately moaning into your ears as her body turned to jelly.

Saerom looked beautiful as her orgasm took over her body, unable to control the volume of satisfied moans leaving her lips as she slowly came down from her intense high. She rocked her hips back and forth to ride out her orgasm and helped you join her as you felt all the tension in your body being released.

Unable to take anymore your cock throbbed inside Saerom, letting out needy grunts and moans as you exploded inside her, emptying your thick hot cum deep inside her pussy and pumping her full of your seed as her body took spurt after spurt as she was filled to the brim.

She rested her head on your shoulder, swaying her hips to coax every drop out of you, the feeling of your warmth deep inside her satisfying her to no end.

“You feel so warm,” she faintly said as your bodies took a much-deserved rest and stared into each other's eyes, both trying to catch a breath at the wonderful experience you just shared.

“That...was...amazing,” you said, heavily gasping.

“It was. I haven’t been fucked like that in a while,” Saerom smiled and kissed you, giving you one more taste of lips as she savored the warmth left in her body.

She gradually lifted her body off yours carefully as your cock plopped out and the huge thick load you had left inside began slowly dripping out of her pussy, running down her flushed thighs. Responding only in tired gasps she tried to catch her breath, watching the mess inside her continue to show itself.

Both of you too tired to move let alone speak, Saerom knelt and licked your shaft clean and tasted your combined juices, lips slurping slowly from base to tip to not miss a drop.

She headed over to your workstation with your cum still dripping down her thighs, grabbed your camera and took several full-body shots of her naked sweaty body, running her hand through her messy hair and smiling for the camera.

"Thank you," Saerom said as she ended up in your naked lap again.

"For what?"

"For taking such pretty pictures of me."

"It's all part of the job. It's easy when I have such a pretty model."

Her cheeks reddened again, the smile etched across her lips something you couldn’t ever get enough of.

"I can't wait to see the full versions."

"I'll have them sent to your company by the end of the week. Just the ones for the magazine of course,” you said.

"I look forward to it. I had a lot of fun today."

"I did too, Saerom."

"Can I see you again? After work?" she asked.

"I usually don't finish until the sun goes down."

"I don't mind, I'll be pretty busy myself. Maybe I'll even take some photos of my own for you."

"Oh? I didn't know you were a photographer as well."

"I'm just an amateur," she shyly said. "It’s just a hobby when I have the time."

"I'd love to see some shots."

"I'll send some then. They might not be as risqué as what we took today."

"As long as you’re in them I’ll love them."

Saerom accepted your praise with a grin on her features and regretfully dressed and left quietly, leaving you tired, sweaty and in need of a shower with her occupied in your thoughts.

Whoever the next model was you knew they couldn’t compare to Saerom, and you couldn’t wait for work to be over.

[uswntxfootball]

all smiles here (jackie groenen x photographer!reader)

focusing on your new job turns out to be a hundred times harder after seeing the smiley dutch midfielder..

word count: 2343 ish

——

today was the day.

here you were, 22, fresh out of college and about to step foot onto the dutch training pitch for the first time and start your new job.

last night you had spent hours fretting over tiny details, making sure your cameras were charged and ready, your lenses were wiped clean, and that everything was nice and tidy.

you had planned to wake up extra early, making sure you had time to get everything situated and set before practice began.

that was the plan.

that’s.. unfortunately not what happened.

in your excitement, you had forgotten to set an alarm, which led to your current predicament, biking as fast as you can, racing through the dutch streets.

you glance down at your watch, narrowly missing a parked car as you do so.

you arrive at 7:58, just in the nick of time.

seeing that the team was already out stretching, you throw your bike down with a crash and run onto the field.

the crash of your bike hitting the pavement caused a few heads to turn your way, with a certain number 14 taking particular interest in your entrance.

blind to the commotion you caused, you laid your camera bag gently down along the side of the field (amongst the other photographers), then bend over unceremoniously, trying hard to catch your breath.

considering you had biked 5 miles in 10 minutes, you were spent, forgetting all your excitement in the process.

when your heart rate had somewhat slowed, you began setting up your equipment, and quickly the nerves and excitement arose once again.

you picked up your camera and took a photo of the closest player to test lighting (that player being sari van veenendaal), all the while internally screaming that that was the fifa 2019 best goalkeeper while doing so.

disregarding how much of a mess your morning was, the next hour went splendidly.

you managed to get a few shots of miedema with gorgeous lighting, photos that your manager undoubtedly would want to publish later on.

few photos were “unusable” (you were pretty damn good at your craft), and your camera roll was soon flooded with a wide variety of individual and group pictures.

at this point you had almost gotten all the players individually, your task being to get each of them by the end of practice, which was coming up shortly.

you snapped a few pictures of wilms, grinning widely when you see how well they turned out.

scanning quickly through the list of players, you sigh with relief when you realize you only have one more player to take photos of, #14.

you scan the field with your camera quickly and your breath promptly catches in your throat.

jackie was laughing at something daan was saying, her smile gorgeously on display.

you couldn’t help but stare, your hand lowering the camera as you forget the task at hand.

but how could anyone blame you?

she was, without a doubt one of the most gorgeous people you had ever seen.

her gaze meets yours suddenly, you let out a squeak of surprise in response and fumble your camera, breaking eye contact as you lunge forward to catch it.

you let out a sigh of relief when you grasp it, cheeks blood red at your actions, the older photographer next to you letting out a chuckle as he shook his head.

“kid you gotta be more careful.”

you nodded and smiled at him kindly, before shaking your head quickly and resuming to the task at hand.

with the ten minutes before the end of practice, you took, in total, one photo of jackie.

this was a disaster.

you just kept getting lost staring at her, this time through the lens of your camera, so starstruck that you forgot to actually take pictures.

you let out a sigh as you began thinking of an excuse for your boss later.

~~

walking into the locker room, jackie rolled her eyes at jill’s words.

“but did you see her jacks? that new camera girl is..” jill letting out a low whistle to finish her statement.

“i mean i’m taken but i have to agree she is pretty cute” daan said, popping into the conversation.

soon whole the locker room began chatting about this “new camera girl”, and jackie couldn’t help but blush.

she had to agree with everyone, you were absolutely adorable, and watching you almost drop your camera upon seeing her only solidified that.

jackie was brought out of her thoughts by jill who, very loudly, pointed at her and said:

“oh. my. god. you like her.”

jackie swatted jill’s hand away.

“shut up no i don’t.”

“oh my god she’s blushing she totally does,” daan squealed.

the locker room was soon buzzing with excitement over jackie’s new crush, filling the air with:

a lot of “omg jackie!”

and

even more “ask her out!!”

with jackie of course very adamantly denying such a proposition.

even through all of the teasing, jackie couldn’t help but hope that she would see you again tomorrow.

~~

you arrived earlier the following day, much much earlier, so much so that no other photographers had arrived yet.

you set your bike nicely against the rack this time, taking your time to admire the nice day as you lay your bag along the edge of the field.

you take a quick look at your watch, 7:17, and upon seeing that no one was around, picked up a soccer ball you found in the corner of the field.

having played a little bit of high school and college soccer, you juggled the ball around a little bit and then attempted to score from midfield.

you hit the ball right into the corner of the net on your second try, jumping up in excitement, when you hear someone speak behind you.

“for a sports photographer, that wasn’t all that bad.”

you turn around abruptly and let out a small squeak of surprise when you’re greeted by the very girl who had enchanted you the day before.

she lets out a dazzling grin before putting out her hand and saying:

“hi i’m jackie.”

“i- uhm y/n” you mumble, eliciting a giggle from the dutch girl before you.

you wipe your palms against your jeans quickly and take her hand, trying to desperately ignore the sparks that shot up your arm from the contact.

an awkward silence followed for the next few seconds, until jackie spoke.

“so, y/n, do you want to kick a ball around with me before people get here?”

“i’m, uh i’m not that good i mean i played a little in high school and college but like just for rec teams and i mean you’re on the national level so like i’m i don’t know i should probably just stick to photography i hope i didn’t offend you i’m just not that great and i yeah.”

you stop your rambling and blush, hoping she can decipher your message through your jumble of words.

jackie just lets out a laugh and your heart melts a little at the sound.

“i can take a few pictures of you though if you’d like?” you offer, hoping to spend a little bit more time with the midfielder.

“i would love that.” jackie says, letting out an even larger smile if possible.

for the next fifteen minutes you took dozens of photos of jackie, all the while learning about her life in manchester and belgium, how she broke a bike on the way to practice once, her dogs, and other snippets of her life.

you honestly couldn’t believe that this girl, this incredibly attractive and funny and just stupidly gorgeous girl was talking to you.

it was 7:50 when the other players arrived, jill letting out a whistle and yell when she saw who was already on the pitch.

“get it jackie!”

the other players cheered as well, letting out wolf whistles when they saw the two of you.

jackie got up but before she left she turned and gave you a hug then saying:

“sorry about them. they’re quite an obnoxious bunch.”

you let out a laugh and the two of you parted ways as practice was about to begin, your heart beating so fast you were afraid it would burst.

~~

“y/n.”

your boss let out a sigh as he took his glasses off.

“why are there 864 photos of jackie groenen in your camera roll?”

“i- i dont know” you stammer.

“this isn’t what i meant when i said you took too little of her yesterday.”

you flushed a deeper shade of red in utter embarrassment.

if your conversation with your boss was any indicator, practice was a disaster.

it wasn’t the players or practice itself.

it was you. your gay mess of a self.

but you just couldn’t help but trail the midfielder for the entire practice, your lens (and eyes) never leaving her.

it was only at the end of practice when you looked through your camera roll when you’d truly realized just how many photos you had taken of her.

each and every page filled with pictures of the number 14, her smile as bright as the day.

in your defense, you had taken quite a few fantastic photos of her, though there was one that was your favorite in particular, with the sun shining at the midfielder at just the right angle, illuminating her eyes and leaving her smile with its signature glow.

and of course that was the photo that caught your boss’s eye, despite his disappointment of today’s “turnout”.

and of course he wanted to publish it immediately.

and of course jackie saw it. and posted it. and tagged you in it.

where did she even get your handle from?

~~

it was sort of an unspoken agreement between the two of you, with both arriving early each practice to spend time with one another.

each time there’s jackie, always smiling and always gorgeous, and each time there’s you, always bumbling and always blushing and always tripping over your words.

and occasionally your feet.

but jackie only saw it as endearing, and continued to talk to you even when you were making a fool out of yourself.

eventually came the time for the netherland’s first matchup against a team, that team being estonia for the euro qualifiers.

you were brimming with the excitement at attending your first match as a photographer, and you arrived extra early match day to set up and get a good spot on the field.

“well if it isn’t my favorite photographer.”

you spun around quickly to spot jackie in her full kit, a blush promptly forming on your cheeks and your heart skipping a beat upon seeing her.

somehow you managed to reply:

“well if it isn’t my favorite player.”

this was your first time saying something that remotely resembled flirting with her, clearly catching the midfielder in surprise, as her face flushed a bright red a second later.

“i’m offended. i thought i was your favorite player.” daan said, appearing behind jackie, who stood frozen.  

you rolled your eyes.

“hate to break up the love fest though, but we’ve got a game to play.” daan said, tugging on the arm of an even redder jackie groenen.

after they left, you continued setting up your equipment, checking lighting and just making sure everything was all set and ready for the game to start.

and boy was it a game. 

in short,

the netherlands absolutely destroyed estonia.

in a huge 7-0 victory for the netherlands, there were an abundance of great photo opportunities, and you got them all.

goal scoring shots and celebration shots, everything.

you however, did let out two very loud cheers when jackie scored, once in the 26th minute and again when she completed her brace.

you had forgotten how empty the stadium was in your excitement.

each time you shouted the dutch girl, blushed, met your eyes and grinned before being pulled away by a teammate, who said something that sounded a lot like:

“your girlfriend’s here cheering for you.”

but in general,

you had expected the dutch to win.

you had expected daan, jackie, sherida, aniek, and katja to score as much and as well as they did.

you had even expected that you would embarrass yourself in some way during the match.

what you didn’t expect however, was for jackie groenen to come running at you after the match.

you were packing up your equipment when you saw the dutch girl approaching, and you opened your mouth to congratulate her on the brace and win.

but before you could get a word out,

she pulled you in by the camera straps around your neck and kissed you.

you stood, frozen, as if you couldn’t believe what was happening (because you really couldn’t).

jackie had started to realize you weren’t reciprocating and began to pull back when you came to your senses.

you kissed her back, hands moving to her waist to steady the two of you.

it was everything you wanted a first kiss to be, passion fueled and full of sparks, her hands moving from your chest to cup your cheek.

jackie was the one who pulled away first, a smile plastered on her face much like the one that had drawn you to her that very first day at practice.

you pulled her in to kiss her again, forgetting that your camera was still looped in front of your chest, only noticing it when it was in the way of getting her closer to you.

you pull back with an annoyed huff and gently take the camera off, turning to drop it on the bench behind you.

“go out with me sometime” you say when you turn around again.

jackie’s face just splits into a sparkling smile.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [17]

Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

➜ Words: 4.6k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Marriage seems to be the ultimate goal for many.    And you have to admit its appeal — cute invitations tucked onto tables by bouquet centerpieces, flowers blooming and budding all around the aisle and arch, long trains of wedding dresses, the tulle of the veil, the glowing smile of both bride and groom radiating happiness.   Love is in the air and it’s hard to hate it. It’s difficult to remain bitter.   For a brief moment in time, you forget about pushing the idea that romance is sickly — that the emotional dependency will cripple you when affections inevitably run out, that the imminent insecurity and jealousy will only act to lower self-esteem, that heartbreak is always impending.   Just for the slightest of seconds….you forget to hate love.   “Jungkook, Y/N! Get in here!”   Sejeong eagerly motions you over and you exchange an expression with the boy beside you before scattering over hesitantly. Yet, she fervently welcomes you, shuffling over and draping her arm around your shoulder. Jungkook stands beside you, smiling wide for the camera.   “One. Two. Three.” The wedding photographer snaps several pictures of all four of you.    “Is this okay?” you ask in a slight murmur in-between shots, still worried considering you didn’t really have a place in this wedding. The only people you know here are the two of them, Jungkook, and Chungha who was somewhere preparing to walk down the aisle.   “Of course, it is!” Namjoon zealously assures with a grin. “You guys are our official wedding cake makers. We can’t forget about you two.”   “Chungha requested that we take as many pictures as we can. She won’t mind, trust me.” Sejeong smiles, excited for her sister’s wedding, and she squeezes your shoulder. “It’ll be a great way to look back on the memories.”   There are a few more pictures taken and when the photographer gives the ‘okay’ sign, the married couple enthusiastically runs out of the frame. “Okay, now just our two interns!”   You and Jungkook awkwardly scoot together, but then the photographer raises his head and suggests you both to go even closer. And that’s enough for Jungkook to throw his arm around your shoulders, pull you close enough that you nearly stumble into his chest and he flashes a grin as the camera snaps while your expression is still stunned.   The next picture, you stand on the tips of your toes with the hopes of overcoming Jungkook’s height and teasing him later on for being short. But he quickly notices you and his grip on your shoulder tightens, attempting to pull you down for the following photograph.    “Hey, don’t try to push me down!”   You try to shove his hand off, but the effort is futile and Jungkook giggles. “You’ll never be taller than me, Y/N.”   “Psh.” You stay on the tips of your toes, putting your hand over your head like that’ll somehow create the illusion your height is greater than his. But then Jungkook goes on his toes as well, lifting up his chin. The two of you laugh, using one another to keep balance and stand as high as possible.   Namjoon and Sejeong grin at your banter and the photographer is smiling as well, continuing to take pictures at different angles and distances with no end in sight.   “You got something on your nose, Jeon,” you lie.   “What?” His heels touch the ground again and his hand lifts to his face. You steal the opportunity to jump straight up as high as you can, putting your hands on his shoulders.    The wedding photographer captures the picture, then one of Jungkook turning his head in shock as you’re still in the air. Then the one where you’re descending and he opens his arms, catching your fall. And the one where you turn to each other, smiling wide as you gaze at each other.   The photographer doesn’t say that these are the best candids he’s taken.   “My name is Jung Sowon and this is Stand By Me.” The woman with the sleek, long, black hair stands at the stage. The band begins to play behind her, drums and guitar crescendo. The wedding singer parts her mouth to sing the first note and the melodic song fills the venue. “When the night has come. And the land is dark. And the moon is the only light we'll see.”   You linger by, watching and swaying to the rhythm.    “Would you like some champagne, ma’am?”   A familiar voice beside you interrupts the music, but it’s a smooth timbre that you recognize.   You turn to find Jungkook, offering you a flute of bubbling champagne and you laugh, taking it.    “Thank you, good sir.”   Jungkook’s dressed in a classic suit — white shirt, black blazer and trousers, shoes and tie. It’s simple, but it makes him look good, hugging his form well. You can’t help musing that he cleans up well. But maybe that’s because you helped him do his hair. It’s combed down as usual, but with the bangs slightly curled in, a bit of his forehead peeking out. Jungkook was screeching this morning and whining like a baby, afraid your straightener would burn his skin, but you’re glad you held him down and did it.    You’re in a blue dress yourself, one that stops at the knees and is ruffled at the neckline. You didn’t think you looked particularly special, but by the way Jungkook was staring at you earlier, you’re not sure what to think anymore.   “The ceremony’s starting soon. We should go.”   You follow his lead, sipping on your champagne. “Hey. Don’t get drunk. It would be embarrassing.”   He scoffs, playfully eyeing you. “Who do you think I am?”   A grin spreads into your face. “I’m just saying.”   The two of you find your seats at the left, near the back. The parents of the groom and bride gather together too, taking their spots at the front rows and the other wedding guests begin trickling into the garden area.    You lean over to Jungkook, keeping your eyes straight ahead, but murmuring underneath your breath, “When do you think it’ll be over?”   “I don’t know. Half an hour to an hour? Why?”   “I’m kind of hungry.”   “Course you are,” he says back but then begins looking around. “Do you want me to ask one of the waiters to bring around those appetizers again?”   “No, I’m fine.” You giggle. “I was joking. I’ll be fine, Jungkook.”   But concern lingers in his eyes. “Are you sure?”   “I won’t starve,” you assure, not knowing he would take it so seriously. Jungkook is attentive to you these days and you’re not sure how to feel……   No. That’s not entirely true. You do know how you feel. But you won’t say it out loud.   Instead, you focus your attention on your surroundings.   The venue was absolutely lovely. It was still a part of the resort, but in a more secluded area that’s away from the prying eyes of tourists and resort guests. A few meters away was the ocean. The tide that was kissing against the shore, saltwater bubbling and fizzing every so often. It was the best of both worlds — the man-made garden inside the tent gorgeous and contrasting against the beach background outside. The floor is verdant grass, soft underneath your feet, and the flowers are in full bloom and wrapped around the ceiling and wedding arch.    The reception area you had peeked at earlier was even more incredible.    You can’t wait until the sun sets and the fairy lights turn on.    “This is actually so nice,” you sigh out, speechless. “You know, for the longest time, I wanted a garden wedding too. Like pink peonies would be one of the themes or focuses or whatever. They bloom during late spring, early summer, so that would be perfect since the weather would be good too.”   Jungkook glances at you. “Do you still want that?”   “I’d probably never get married, so it doesn’t really matter.” You shrug to him, snapping back to reality.    “Why not?”   “Love’s gross,” you mutter quietly as the last people take their seats. “Plus, no one wants me.”   “I want you.”   Jungkook says it forthrightly, without a beat of hesitation, instinctively. As if you asked him what his name was. You look at him, staring wide-eyed. Jungkook gazes back at you, unwavering.    Your heart stutters. And you quickly look away from him.   “You shouldn’t joke about that kind of thing.”   He sulks. “I’m not.”   But none of you are able to speak another word. The music interrupts when it begins. The classic wedding march plays and everyone turns around to watch the bridesmaids and groomsmen walk down the aisle with bright smiles. Sejeong and Namjoon wave at the two of you as well as they stride past.   And soon, Chungha is the one walking down with her arm hugging her father’s. She’s in a beautiful, white ball gown, practically glowing as the trail of her dress follows. The woman looks the happiest she’s ever been and as envious as you are, the joy is overwhelming.    Her soon-to-be husband is wiping at his eyes and when they meet, they hold one another’s hands, giggling.   "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”   The officiant addresses the couple, reading a long passage from his book for twenty minutes about what love and marriage means. Then there’s an exchange of vows and it becomes emotional as they read their professions of love to one another.    You feel the sting of your eyes that you try to dispel away.   You forgot love could be so innocent and comforting. For so long, you’ve demonized it in your mind, discredited the emotion as silly mistakes. But with the way the couple stare at one another underneath the arch — so genuinely in love — you realize you had forgotten love could be so sincere.   Not every love ends in heartbreak. Not every relationship ends in heartache.   You had forgotten.    And you find yourself stealing glances at Jungkook.   “Sometimes I wonder how it’s possible that I became so lucky. That I was there on that day. At the right time. And I met you,” the groom inhales a soft breath, staring at his soon-to-be wife. “Not everyone can marry their best friend, but I’m happy to be one of them. There’s no one I’d rather become a family with than you.”   The rings are exchanged as tears pool in eyes and then the pronouncement of marriage is made. After the kiss, the closing remarks are said and everyone stands up, cheering at the newly married pair.   Chungha is laughing, her husband grinning hard and they run down the aisle together.   Love is in the air and you’re glad that you’re experiencing it with Jungkook by your side.   //   Weddings are stressful when you’re the planner or the couple, but it’s fun as the guest. One of the perks that you and Jungkook especially have is being able to pig out at the table without having to mingle or interact with others. It’s not like you know anyone here, so the pair of you have resided by the snack area.   “The catering company didn’t do a bad job.” You lick off your fingers.    Jungkook hums and then turns to you with his arm extended. You look down, finding him holding a chocolate strawberry and immediately, your lips part. He feeds it to you and you taste it on your palette while shaking your head.   “Not as good as yours.”   “Of course.” Jungkook grins, relishing in your praise.   “Where’d you find that?”    “Don’t freak out.” He pauses, letting you suffer in suspense on purpose. “There’s a chocolate fondue fountain over there.”   Immediately you whirl around to where he’s indicating and an audible gasp tears from your throat. Jungkook’s eyes crinkle in mirth and he follows after you, chiding you not to run.   The milk chocolate is falling at three different tiers, grandly cascading downwards in a smooth liquid. You grab a plate and begin to stack skewered strawberries, marshmallows, banana slices, rice krispy squares and pretzels onto it. And the two of you end up crowding the fountain, dipping the food in one at a time to indulge.    “God, I love chocolate.” You could drop dead right now and ascend to the afterlife fulfilled.   Jungkook holds back a laugh. “Don’t eat too much. You’re going to ruin your appetite and get a stomach ache.”   “Doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quickly. “I’m living my best life here, Jeon. I could die happy right now.”   “You better not.” He smiles. “I still need you around to cover for me when I mess up.”   Jungkook has more of a sensitive sweet tooth than you do, so he slows down his chocolate consumption sooner than you even have plans of halting. But he enjoys watching you eat, filling your cheeks with chocolate-covered fruit and sweets. He feels satisfied somehow when he watches you consume to your heart’s content.   He eventually starts dipping what’s left on his plate to feed you, not allowing it to go to waste.   “Ah.”   Your lips part and he feeds you again, but this time, the chocolate accidentally drips onto Jungkook’s hand. He curses, pulling up his white sleeve to not get it stained, but before he can grab a napkin to wipe himself off, your hand clasps around his wrist.   Without thinking twice, you pull his hand to your mouth and you lick off the chocolate. Your warm tongue runs along his skin, cleaning the mess. It takes only three seconds. But in the meanwhile, your pupils flicker up to look into Jungkook’s. Directly. Boldly.   His Adam’s apple visibly bobs in his throat. Sweat begins to collect at his hairline but by then, you’ve already let go and turned away. You’re nonchalant. Your attention returns back to the chocolate fountain and you’re fucking humming, continuing to pig out.   Jungkook cusses in his mind.    You’re a vixen. A damn witch.   But there’s no time to react or linger. Not when you’ve obviously moved on and haven’t thought much about your action. Not when the married couple arrives at the reception area and everybody takes their seats again.    “Thank you everyone for taking the time to come here for us.” Everyone raises their glasses of champagne. “We really appreciate it.”   “I’d also like to thank my older sister, Sejeong, and Namjoon for making such a beautiful wedding cake.” Chungha grins. “It was a surprise, but it’s better than I could’ve ever imagined and it was one less thing to worry about, so thank you. I knew I could trust you.”   “Please,” Sejeong says aloud, “It’s my job.”   There’s shared laughter and the bride carries on, “And thank you to Jungkook and Y/N as well for helping out with my sister’s shop and making the cake. I’m sure it would’ve been a lot more stressful without your help.”   You’re bashful under the attention, but soon enough, the speeches and toasts move onto different people in the room. The maid of honour shares a long story about how the couple met and the best man wishes the pair a wonderful future.    Not long after, the food finally gets served as the wedding singer continues her performance.   You get mashed potatoes as an appetizer and steal part of Jungkook’s scallop dish. He feigns a glare, but then the two of you are splitting each other’s food family style to get a variety of tastes. The main course consists of filet mignon for Jungkook and pumpkin ravioli for you.   You enjoy the meal for the most part, only slightly uncomfortable by the old woman in a floral dress who keeps glancing at you and Jungkook with a smile. And right before dessert is served, the stranger across the table seems to crack.   “How do you two know the bride and groom?” her voice croaks as she nosily asks.   “Oh. We just helped make the wedding cake.”   “We’re the bride’s sister’s interns,” Jungkook adds.   “Nice to meet you.” Her dainty, wrinkled hand shakes your hand and Jungkook’s. “I’m the groom’s great aunt. Such a lovely wedding, isn’t it?”   “Yes, it is.”   “The food’s great too.”   The old woman's eyes glimmer of mirth. “So how long have you both been together?”   You choke on your ravioli — Jungkook wheezes mid-sip of his water, coughing and sputtering. He pounds his chest. The pair of you look at one another, eyes rounded and wide.   “Oh...we’re not...uh….”   “No need to be shy.” Her hand bats the air. “There’s no need to hide anything, don’t worry.”   “Umm...well, we’ve known each other for a while now,” Jungkook says and you give him a look. Technically, it’s not a lie.   “Are you both considering getting married any time soon?”   The proposition gives you whiplash, but after working in the food industry for so long, you’ve perfected maintaining a calm disposition. Even if the smile you offer is stiff. “Oh, no. We’re still very young, so I don’t think so. Not at all.”   “There’s nothing wrong with getting married when you’re young,” she tells. “Back in my day, kids got married at eighteen. Right out of school. Better early than never was always my motto. If you know you’re good for each other, there’s no point in waiting.”   “Uhhh….” You’re not sure what to say to that.   Luckily, Jungkook jumps in and easily uses his infamous Jeon charms. “If I propose too soon, she’ll get bored of me. I’d prefer to keep her on her toes a little while longer.”   The old lady laughs heartily. “That’s a dangerous game, boy. If you don’t put a ring on it soon, she might just run off with another boy and you’d surely regret it then.”   He shakes his head. “She wouldn’t. It may not look like it, but she’s head over heels for me. She’d come chasing me.”   That seems to poke the old lady’s funny bone, but your mouth has dropped open. “I would not.”   “Sure about that?” Jungkook smirks impishly. “I might just run off with another miss if you’re not nice enough to me, Y/N.”   “Psh. I’d like to see you try, Jeon Jungkook.”   “You two are just too cute.” The old lady sighs wistfully. “Reminds me of my late husband and I. I know love when I see it.”   The meal eventually ends and the old lady wobbles off to mingle at another table with people she’s more familiar with — but as she bids farewell, she chides Jungkook to marry you already. And when she’s gone, he shifts to wiggle his brows at you.   You tell him that if he gets down on one knee tonight, you’ll slap him.   Fortunately, Jungkook has no such plans. Instead, the pair of you spend your time watching the sunset on the beach. The sky is painted in tangerine and rosy hues, the ocean reflecting the horizon and once it becomes dark enough, all the fairy lights flicker on. The venue becomes illuminated by the dim and soft mosaic of colours.   You feel ticklish and pink inside — stomach full of food, alcohol making it easy to loosen up, the amorous atmosphere a hatchery for hopeless romantics. You watch the first dance, listening to the smooth voice of the wedding singer and the warm sounds of the band. “Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you.”   The bride moves in sync with the groom, her dress gliding across the floor. Their hands are clasped together, feet moving slowly, eyes staring at one another. It’s magical to be an observer and it makes you wonder what it’s like to be there, to know you can live the rest of your life with the person you’ve chosen.   When the others trickle onto the dance floor, you watch them too.   And Jungkook soon returns, having gone to the bathroom and then taking a quick walk around. He finds you enjoying yourself in a rare carefree state, simply swaying to the melody in your seat.   His smile becomes tender.   “Go dance.”   You scoff. “I’m not going to dance by myself.”   “Then dance with me.” Jungkook takes your hand, pulling you up on your feet. “Come on,” he convinces when he sees your reluctance. “This is the only time I’ll ever dance. Are you really going to give up on this chance?”   You let him pull you on the floor right as another song begins.    It’s an older song — another slow one — fuzzy sounds that melts all around you. The wedding singer’s voice is sweet, drums providing a steady beat. The staccato of the bass is resonant and velvety with the lithe sound of the piano. “Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’. Birds singing in the sycamore tree. Dream a little dream of me.”   But what should be romantic is terribly awkward.   Jungkook’s hands are placed tensely on your waist while yours are plopped on top of his shoulders. It’s as if you’ve been propelled back to the past — fifteen years old at a school dance with your crush, not sure where to look, how close to be, how to touch one another and be polite about it.    You wince when he steps on your foot.   “Ow.”   “Sorry.”   “I thought you danced, Jeon Jungkook.”   The boy’s brows knit together. “Who says?”   “I thought you could do everything,” you tease and this time, he’s the one lightly scoffing with a small smile tugging at his lips.   Soon, Jungkook steps on your foot again and you mutter cusses in his ear. It makes him laugh, but you swear the third time he steps on your toes, it’s intentional.   “Say ‘Night-ie night’ and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me. While I'm alone and blue as can be. Dream a little dream of me.”   The crowd on the dance floor is moving together — old married couples and the young ones holding each other securely to kids twirling with each other. Eventually, the music relaxes you enough that you melt into Jungkook’s arms and he falls into a rhythm, no longer stepping on any toes.    Your arms are looped around his neck, your fingers locked together. His hands are tenderly on the dips of your waist. The two of you sway with one another. There’s nowhere to look but directly into his eyes and you find his gaze fixed onto yours. As if your irises are the most interesting kaleidoscopes in the world.   Jungkook makes you nervous. He makes your palms sweaty, your steps unsure and seemingly unpracticed.   “Can you stop looking at me like that?” you murmur. In this party of people, only he can hear you above the music. It’s much too intimate.   “Like what?”   “Like you love me.”   “But I do love you.”   He tugs you closer and you search his eyes, brows furrowing unintentionally. You quietly scold him, “You can’t say that, Jungkook.”   “Why not?” he asks in a whisper.   “Because what does it mean for us?”   “Can’t friends love each other?”   “I—”   “I’m kidding.” Jungkook smiles gently, the corners of his mouth quirking. “Well, not really.”   The slow song encases you and Jungkook into a private bubble. The dim lights make his doe eyes sparkle even more than usual — like there are actual stars captured within them, like he’s snapped a picture of the night sky on a Summer night and kept them there. “Stars fading but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss. I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear. Just saying this.”   You never realized how much you love Jungkook’s eyes.   “Hey, can I ask you something?” he pipes up again in a gentle murmur as to not disturb the delicate moment between you two. “It’s not about me, but I have a friend who doesn’t really know what to do...”   “What is it?”   “He’s in love with his best friend who’s head over heels for some other guy and is still heartbroken over him even after so much time has passed. My friend really loves her, but he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship they have because it’s important to him.”   You hum a low note, corners of your mouth pulling. “Well, if this best friend is dancing with your friend, sharing the same bed together every night, and spending their days together, she’s probably not heartbroken after that guy anymore.”   Jungkook’s grip on you tightens, not too much that it hurts, but securely enough to keep you from floating away.    He swallows hard. “So you think he should go for it?”   “I think he should take it slow,” you hum. “Even if he values their friendship, once you’ve caught feelings, there’s not much you can do. I have personal experience on this topic, so I would know.”   “Would you now?” A boyish grin spreads into his cheeks, one that makes him look even younger.    “I think this friend of yours should take his chances.” You lean your head on his shoulder, relishing in his body heat. “Sounds like his best friend might just agree.”   Jungkook holds you close. The two of you sway together, enjoying the moment.   “Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be. Dream a little dream of me.”   The fuzzy song fades as it ends. The last note holds the air. And with it, the spell breaks.   You pull yourself away from Jungkook’s arms, offering a small smile. It’s awkward, so you quickly turn away to return to your spot at the table. But then….   There’s a call of your name—   “Y/N.”   As you spin around, Jungkook tugs you in by your waist. Your lips meet his.   Your mouths collide together right as another song begins — one you don’t pay any attention to, where you can’t even discern the lyrics. Not when your heart rate is pounding in your eardrums.   It’s a soft brush of the surfaces of your lips, a timid touch, but soon, you’re eagerly deepening the kiss. You’re surrounded in Jungkook and everything that is him — the scent of fresh laundry and his cologne, giving into the velvet texture of his soft lips, reveling in the warmth of his skin that brings heat onto your cheeks.   Your hands slink to the back of his neck, sinking your fingers into the little hair there. Your eyes shut and Jungkook sneaks in a long peek at you, soaking in your pleasured expression before his own lids flutter closed. Your nose bumps together and he easily tilts his head, kissing you tenderly, but eagerly underneath the pretty lights.    Jungkook kisses you and kisses you, like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. But really, he should’ve done this a long time ago — maybe that time underneath the mistletoe all those months ago.   So he makes up for the lost time, tasting your lipstick curiously, smearing it shamelessly, getting it all over his own mouth.    It’s hot, breathy, and when the pair of you pull apart, the thin thread of saliva between your mouths break. You stumble back on your heels, catching yourself on weak knees. You try to remember how to breathe properly.   Jungkook’s own chest is heaving and he shakes his head, wearing an infectious smile. He wipes his lips wet with your saliva haphazardly with the back of his hand.   “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that for.”   You laugh, grabbing his tie roughly. You tug your best friend closer. “Then shut up and do it again.”   The both of you are in the middle of the dance floor, underneath the lights, but none of you pay any mind.   This time when Jungkook kisses you, he’s grinning against your mouth and you can’t help but smile too.

[whumpywhumper]

Photographic Evidence

Please see the new Markus/Lucien Series: Masterpost

This follows shortly after: Here to Help there’s a little time skip with some mentions of things that haven’t been written yet, but it’s fairly obvious what’s been skipped over. 

Tagging: @oceanthesarcasamfox @insanitywishes @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @imagination1reality0 @voidwhump @captivity-whump

Huge shout out to both @0idril0 and @rosesareviolentlyread: I would not keep writing without you two, and Idril puts up with way too many questions. 

Also, @walkingchemicalfire HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! Have 6k words :P 

TW: aftermath of captivity; aftermath of abuse; graphic depictions of injury and medical treatment; mentions of potential brain injury. Please, let me know if there’s something specific I’ve overlooked. 

V***V

“Look, ma’am, I’m just trying to do my job. I didn’t meant to—“ 

“I don’t give a fuck what you meant to do, you are endangering my patient. Get. Out.” 

Ben heard the raised voices from the other end of the bullpen, turning with the nurses and other police officers to see what the commotion was about. Not that it was the only commotion taking place, they were less than a day out from one of the biggest raids NYPD had seen in decades and there was a truck-load of uniformed officers and plain clothes detectives milling around the harried nurses, but this particular commotion sounded volatile.  

Eyeing the crowd, Ben saw that he was likely the ranking officer available to mediate the dispute and sighed. 

He was exhausted, sweaty, and still in his tactical pants from the raid. His head was killing him, and his eyes were blurring and scratching with the need to find his glasses. He had no idea where Kincaid or Holland were located, and this was the very last thing he wanted to be doing right now. He didn’t, however, hesitate to heft his stack of files and the clip board he’d been using to take notes on his interviews, and step toward the room. The room was like many of the others on this floor, glass walls with curtains that protected the patient’s privacy, and made them convenient for private interviews. That they also just so happened to be the hospital’s more intensive stay rooms was not something he was trying to think too hard about, guilt that they were interrupting the hospital’s natural rhythm settling heavy in his gut. 

At this point, there was no telling who was inside this particular room, the victims had been shuffled like a back alley shell game as they tried to make sense of who needed to go where. He was pretty sure he’d already conducted three separate interviews in the room next door, and it wasn’t even noon. 

There was a uniformed officer inside, the creases and pressed nature of his uniform screaming rookie, with his back to the door. His hands were at his hips as he tried to, quite unsuccessfully, stare down a tiny brunette nurse standing in front of a bed. There was practically a storm cloud over the woman’s head, her dark eyes flinty as she poked him in the chest. “I’m not going to ask you again,” the woman threatened, her voice soft over a rolling hispanic accent. 

Reading the tags on the door, Ben quickly grabbed a face mask and juggled his precarious paper burden to slip it on, before knocking on the door jam and sticking his head inside. “Is there a problem here?” 

The rookie turned sharply on his heel, and Ben’s eyes caught that he didn’t have a mask on, but his attention was drawn away when the nurse’s gaze snapped toward him as well. Ben winced at the vitriol in her expression, even half-covered by the mask, and prepared himself to soothe some ruffled feathers. 

“Yes, there’s a problem here. Your officer is endangering my patient, and he needs to leave. Now.” 

The rookie, Peters, from his lapel, sighed and held up the camera hanging from a strap around his neck. “Sir, Captain Holland asked me to get pictures of the victims and their injuries. I’m just trying to do that, but she’s interfering.” 

“That is not the issue and you know it.” The woman’s eyes flashed, and she crossed her arms over her chest. 

The young officer turned on her with bared teeth, apparently repeating something he’s said to her before. “Captain Holland told me not to get in the way of the nurses or bother them. I’m not trying to hurt your patient.”  

Ben could feel his head throbbing as his migraine grew, and pressed his lips together, trying for a calm, measured tone as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ma’am, it really is very important that we collect the necessary evidence from the victims. I’m sure if you and Officer Peters can cooperate—” 

“Cooperate? You think this is an issue of cooperation?!” The storm fell with a fury, and Ben’s eyes widened as the nurse’s voice raised, words coming faster and faster. “If he’d asked for help then there would be no issue, but moving a critical care patient by himself and almost ripping out his chest tube is absolutely an issue.” She drew herself up to her full height, the top of her head coming up to Ben’s shoulder, the force of her spat words making him want to lean away. “I don’t care if you don’t know his name, but he’s my patient, and I won’t let you to hurt him out of ignorance.” 

Ben blinked, eyes shooting to the still form on the bed. It felt like he’d been punched in the gut when he recognized the pale skin and dark hair, and his breath left him in a sharp exhale. 

The John Doe that he and Kincaid had transported from the nest was still intubated, the tube pulling the side of his mouth painfully from where the apparatus holding it in place had been knocked askew. There was a wetness to his lashes which spoke of fake tears and absolutely no color had returned to those pale cheeks. Ben’s eyes were drawn lower, to where the blankets had been pulled away from the younger man’s torso, vicious red droplets of blood staining the white sheets where a chest tube, amongst others, was running under the mostly unconnected gown. 

Ben felt his expression harden and his shoulders straightened from their fatigued slouch. He turned from the nurse’s rage to look down on the rookie, whose eyes widened at the cold fury on Ben’s face. “You tried to turn this patient without the assistance of one of the nursing staff? What are you? Stupid?!” 

“No! Sir! I was just—“ A slashing hand motion cut Peters off, and his teeth clacked together with the speed of his jaw closing. 

“I don’t give a shit what Holland ordered. Use your goddamn brain, Officer.” Ben’s voice was seething between his teeth, and he used his free hand to grab the young man’s shoulder and swing him around so that he could face the patient in the bed. “You could have killed him, do you get that? Use your brain and ask questions next time.” 

The rookie, wisely, did not say anything other than a quiet, “Yes, sir.” 

“Good.” Ben took a deep, calming breath, wincing as the ache of his head turned into a knife behind his eye. “Now, give me that camera and take these to the conference room at the end of the hall. Report to Holland, and let him know that I’ve put you on filing duty. Explain to him what happened, and if what I hear from him does not match what actually happened then we are going to have words. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Peters nodded, not quite meeting his gaze as the camera and folders exchanged hands. 

The younger officer left the room quickly after that, and Ben closed his eyes as he fought to control his temper, his fingers massaging against his eyelids in an effort to push away the headache for a few more hours. Of all of the stupid, idiotic, ill-conceived. . . 

The nurse cleared her throat, and Ben jumped, shooting her an apologetic glance at her over his mask. He adjusted the angle of his shoulders, giving her a slight nod. “Ma’am, I apologize for Officer Peters behavior and thoughtless actions.” The professional apology slid out of his mouth automatically, belaying the still swirling protective drive that was making his heart pound in his chest. “It is never our intention to put victims at any more risk than they’ve already been.” 

She nodded at him, her expression easing out of its angry cast at the sincerity in his words. “Thank you, Lieutenant—?” 

“Carter,” he answered, offering her his hand to shake until he saw her gloves and retracted it. “Lieutenant Benjamin Cater, but please, I answer to Ben.” 

Ben tried to smile at her, even with the futility of the mask hiding his expression, but it felt hollow even to him. Usually, he was charming, flirtatious even, but he was exhausted. He hadn’t slept in over twenty four hours, had forced himself through the adrenaline crash following the raid, and he didn’t know how long it would be before he got to sit down, let alone sleep. He was tempted to cry. 

“Now,” Ben took a deep breath and set the camera on the empty chair, “before I address that again—“ he glanced at her badge “—Ms. Dominguez, would you like some help resettling your patient?” 

She raised her eyebrow, looking him up and down shrewdly. “Call me Catrina,” she huffed and uncrossed her arms with an eye roll, “pick up the camera, and I’ll help you after I check him over.” 

He felt himself relax a little. At least he wouldn’t have to sweet talk her into helping him after all. “Thank you, it really is important that we get these photos as soon as possible.” 

“It’s always important,” Catrina muttered, turning to the John Doe. “Get some gloves and a gown before you even think about touching my patient,” she instructed him sternly. 

Ben didn’t even consider arguing, and did as he was told. After he suited up, he snagged the camera by the strap and stepped to the opposite side of the bed from Catrina, his back to the door. 

Catrina was carefully adjusting the apparatus holding the intubation tube in place, freeing the younger man from the painful pull on his mouth. “Okay, there you go, cariño,” she said softly, almost to herself. He felt his estimation of her go up another notch when she fully addressed the John Doe, her voice only a little louder. “We’re going to turn you now, Mr. Doe, so I can check your chest tube.” 

Ben watched her steady hands as she folded back the blanket and unsnapped the shoulder of Doe’s gown, uncovering the mottled purple skin of his chest. He’d seen it in the nest of course, but the light of the lantern and flashlights had done a poor job of actually showing the damage. In the full brightness of the fluorescent hospital light, the damage was stark and told a story of overlapping misery. With all of the trauma and bruising, Ben felt like it shouldn’t be possible, but he was sure that he could see the impression the heels of his hands had left on Doe’s sternum from where Ben had tried to keep the other man alive. 

He swallowed hard, shaking himself out of his self-recriminations, as Catrina folded the Doe’s arm across his torso in a way that didn’t pose a danger to the other IV lines or drains, and, at her head tilt, he helped her pull Doe on his side so that she had better access. One of his broad palms covered the swell of Doe’s shoulder, the other the jut of his hip over the gown, and Ben tried to ignore the impression of holding eggshell in his hands, conscious of the bones so close to the surface that Ben could feel them shifting. 

The new position revealed the tube Peters had apparently almost ripped out. The white gauze around the chest tube was stained red, and with Ben helping her, Catrina’s hands were free to peel back the bloody bandages to fully reveal the intrusion to Doe’s body. The thick plastic tube was as wide as one of his fingers at the fattest knuckle, protruding from between his ribs with jagged black stitches holding it in place. His stomach swooped at the dark liquid being pulled through the drain, and he shook his head, tsking between his teeth. “You had to replace the chest tube.”  

The brunette nurse looked at him askance, eye brow raised. Her eyebrows were very expressive, Ben noted.  “And how do you know that?” she asked. 

He took a deep breath, gesturing with his chin. “Fresh stitches, and it wasn’t pulling blood at the extraction site.”   

She blinked, connecting the dots, and tilted her head to look up at him through her lashes. “You’re the one who found him.” 

Ben nodded. “My partner and I were the ones who brought him in.” 

“Everyone was talking about how you rode in here on that gurney like a pro,” she acknowledged, her hands never faltering as she re-bandaged her patient and tested the patency of the drain. 

He hummed, unable to find the heart to feel anything other than sad about the circumstances of that story. He did not like having to perform CPR. He especially did not like having to perform CPR on nameless victims. 

Catrina picked up on his somber mood, and dropped the subject.  “That should do it, Mr. Doe,” she said to her patient, “We need to get a better look as some of the injuries, so we’re gonna be moving you, but it shouldn’t take long, okay?” Obviously not expecting an answer, she looked at Ben with a raised eyebrow. “How do you want to do this?”

“Help me move him, and I get photos of all of his injuries. Even the little details can help us break the case.” 

“That’s going to be really stressful on him, Ben,” Catrina said, shaking her head. “He’s got a lot of injuries.” 

They were both silent for a moment, their gloved hands keeping Doe on his side, the rasp of the ventilator filling the air. Ben could see the level of damage that they were dealing with, and it made him nauseous to think about everything else that was hidden by the gown. He knew a lot of it, but there was only so much he’d been able to see at the nest itself. 

“I hear you,” Ben acknowledged, “We’ll do what we can, and you make the call on when we need to stop, okay?” Catrina nodded her agreement. “Since he’s already on his side, let’s get his back.” 

Their hands swapped position, and Ben stepped to the other side of the bed as he fished out the forensic scale from one of the many pockets in his tactical pants. With the blankets pushed down and none of the ties done on the gown, the patient’s entire back was visible, and there was a cold sympathy circling in Ben’s gut as he took a photo of the exposed length of his back and shoulder, motioning Catrina to move her arm out of the shot. Moving closer, he placed the scale against the other man’s skin, taking photos closer and closer. There was a massive bruise across the breadth of his upper back, the green tinges at the edge putting the healing at most a few weeks old. If Ben had to guess, it was probably from being slammed into a wall. Or the floor. 

Catrina moved her hand at his gentle nudge, and Ben shifted the scale again, taking a photos of a bullet scar in the John Doe’s shoulder. “How old do you think that is?” he asked quietly. 

The nurse clicked her tongue, pondering. “There’s no telling, a couple of months at least.” 

He nodded, taking pictures of a clearly defined hand print on his bicep. Fitting his hand over the bruises, Ben stretched his fingers, noting that his hand didn’t have quite the reach as Doe’s attacker. “Definitely a male,” he noted under his breath, feeling his eyebrows draw together when he imagined how much force would be necessary to cause bruises that deep. Definitely a vamp, he thought. Tugging away the lingering edge of the gown, Ben got photos of the bruises that trawled along his ribs, placing the scale on several different boot marks. One of the blotchy marks lower on Doe’s side was the impression of the sole of a shoe, a popular brand name etched into his skin. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. 

“You’ll want to get this one,” Catrina interjected, her hand sliding to the back of Doe’s head. 

Stepping around Catrina, he examined where she was indicating, and his stomach bottomed out. The other man’s neck was a symphony of healing bruises, the equidistant fang marks littering up and down the column of his throat, but at the nape of his neck was a bruise on the latter stages of healing. Even as healed as it was, Ben could make out the bite mark. This wasn’t just the penetration of fangs, it was the clear oval of someone’s teeth, the top and bottom of the impression on either side of his neck. 

“Goddamnit,” he cursed, a steady thrum of rage kicking up in his chest. Ben closed his eyes for a moment. Trying to get a rein on his eroding temper. 

That bruise wasn’t just an injury. It was degrading and possessive. Marking. For a vamp to use all of his teeth in an attack like that, when he’d clearly had physical control of the victim. . . Ben could guess some of the reasons for the location of the injury.  He shook off the anger, taking several different photos of the teeth marks, including the ones over his jugular.  

“I think that’s all for this side, he’s got bruises on the opposite hip and leg, but you can get pictures of those when he’s laying back down.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Ben responded, following Catrina’s instructions as he helped her role him back to his supine position. Ben’s hands were shaking slightly as he helped Catrina unsnap the rest of the gown hiding Doe’s torso, and he consciously stilled them. It didn’t matter that peeling back that flimsy material was like peeling away the curtain on a horror show, it had to be done. With Catrina’s help, he removed the white gauze hiding the incisions that had been made, both old and new, that covered the massive trauma that was John Doe’s existence. There were more openings to his body than should have ever occurred: drains and tubes tunneling into his torso; IV’s and catheters pumping him full of fluids, medications and fresh blood; incision and stitched stab wounds that introduced staples and stitches in varying sizes. It was a travesty of cruelty and pain that stripped Ben’s heart to the marrow. 

He did what he could to preserve the John Doe’s modesty, but Ben took every photo that he could to document the injuries that littered Doe’s wrecked frame. Too many to focus on, unexplainable bruises and abrasions, the unwritten history of torment. 

Ben could tell that the younger man had taken care of himself before being taken, the lingering muscles in his chest and stomach speaking of someone who had been in shape before captivity. But what he had gone through was wasting him, making Doe appear fragile and weak with every mechanical breath as his chest rose and fell. “God bless, sweetheart,” Ben muttered, the flash blinding him again as he captured the image of the huge bruise that engulfed Doe’s hip and thigh, crawling down to his knee. The swollen tissue there was clearly painful, telling of a lot of damage. “What’s this injury?” Ben asked, looking at Catrina. 

She stood at the foot of the bed, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched her patient and the monitors for signs of distress. “Torn ligaments and muscle damage.” Stepping forward, she unvelcroed the compression devise from around his calf, stripping it down to his foot. “You’re going to want a picture of that too,” she said, tone dark as she revealed a black hand print on her patient’s ankle. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Ben spat. The headache he’d been ignoring flared to life with a vengeance, and he pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, blinking forcefully to force away the pain. This guy had been through so much shit, and Ben wasn’t even done taking pictures. 

“Are you alright?” Catrina asked, grabbing him by the shoulder.  

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just been a shit 48 hours.” He shook her off, taking pictures of the dark marks around his ankle. They looked like they were the same size as the ones on his arms, but they’d have to get an accurate measurement later. 

From there, he had Catrina help him remove the bandages and splint around his wrists and hands, taking more photos of the damage there. He noted the overlapping finger marks from where he’d either been held down or held in place, and carefully, he traced the lines that wrapped around his wrists, the rough scabs and deeper abrasions from too tight cuffs. “You’re a fucking fighter, Bambi,” Ben muttered, splaying Doe’s long, nimble fingers over the blanket to get photos of his regrowing fingernails. 

Catrina scoffed under her breath, already working on recovering and rebandaging her patient, “you can say that again.” 

The last thing Ben took photos of was Doe’s face. Which was the opposite of the procedure that he normally followed, making sure the victim came before their injuries, but desperate, overworked times. 

Doe’s features were slack, the intubation tube resting on dry, cracked lips. The delicate skin of his face was peppered with bruises, the arch of one cheek bone split, a sharp angle from some kind of corner marring the otherwise unmarked expanse of his forehead in green tinged memory. His thick, dark lashes were fanned over the purple half-moons under his eyes, the color so deep Ben wasn’t sure if they were from a black eye or lack of rest.

Examining the bruises scattered across the bottom of his face, Ben squinted and found the shape of the black marks even under the apparatus holding the breathing tube in place. 

More finger marks. 

He didn’t have the energy to curse again. There weren’t words for what had been done to Doe. All Ben could do was finish taking pictures. 

When he straightened from his stoop over the bed, Ben’s vision swam, and Catrina’s firm grip on his elbow steadied him, kept him from toppling over. “Damn...” he groaned, pressing against his temple, head splitting open with the fury of its ache. 

“When was the last time you ate something, Ben?” Catrina asked, her quick, accented speech softening slightly as she pushed him toward the empty chair. 

“Um?” The noise was more than a little sheepish, and he rubbed the back of his neck, plopping down into the chair without resistance as his legs tried to give out under him. “Does it mean that my memory is shit if I can’t remember or just that it was that long ago?” 

She rolled her eyes, pressing him forward until his elbows rested on his knees and his head was hanging. “Stay there, don’t pass out, I’ll be right back.” In a blur of blue scrubs and yellow gown , Catrina left the room. Leaving Ben alone with her patient, the quiet beeps of monitors, and the steady pump of the ventilator. 

After a few seconds, the dark vertigo inducing throb of his head let up, and Ben lifted his face out of his hands. “Well, pumpkin,” he said, addressing the still form on the bed, “I hope you’ll forgive the lack of professionalism.” He smiled sadly, rolling closer so that he could take Doe’s hand between his own. “It’s been a hell of a long day, you know?” 

Ben studied the other man’s face, looking past the bruises and tubing to the person beneath. He was handsome, whoever he was, the dark hair and pale skin contrasting to make him stand out rather than blend in. The faint beginnings of lines around his eyes made him seem like someone who was used to smiling. Someone Ben would’ve liked to know. 

He remembered those striking green eyes and how they’d stared at he and Kincaid—the vivid emerald color enunciated by the broken capillaries, probably a result of the blow that cut his cheek bone, creating a stain of red on the background of white. The fear that had no business being in his gaze. What kind of hell have you been through, sweetheart? 

The knowledge that this John Doe was a witch just amplified the horror that Ben was feeling. The fact that, in another life, this could be Kincaid in that bed.  Used as a plaything, as a junkie’s source, until he was a shell of who he really was—with no one knowing who he was or where he came from?—it killed him. This guy was clinging to life with blood coated tenacity, and no one even knew his fucking name.

Ben had no idea how long this guy had been held, the bruises not even a clear outline of what had been done to him. Vampire venom was an anticoagulant, amongst other properties, and most every vampire victim Ben had come across was anemic. It made for interesting bruising history, the marks of captivity and abuse lasting for weeks longer than they should. 

His teeth were grinding together, and Ben loosened the clench in his jaw, letting his frustration out in a shaky exhale. Fuck, he thought, I’m tired. 

It didn’t take long for Catrina to come back, and Ben looked up in time to accept the small box of apple juice and crackers from her. “Thanks,” he said, rolling away from her patient, far enough he was comfortable moving his gloves and mask to suck on the straw under her hawk eyed gaze. 

“Don’t mention it,” she said, another expressive movement of her eyebrows indicating that it really would be better forgotten. 

Catrina busied herself with her patient while Ben made sure he didn’t pass out, moving smoothly around the room to check a beeping drip and taking a new blood sugar. Ben watched her, fatigue coming for him in heavy waves. 

“What’s his prognosis?” he asked, the question slipping free while he rubbed at his blurry eyes. He had to ask it for his report, even if he knew the likelihood that it was a good answer was a nullity. Plus, there weren’t any loved ones here to ask, to worry about him, so Ben would have to do. 

The nurse looked at him, her dark eyes holding a well of emotion at bay.  “Not good,” she answered, voice solemn. “I’m going to give my report to Anna in about fifteen minutes at shift change if you want to sit in, she hasn’t been on with him yet so she’s going to get a full run down, but in short, not good.” She sighed, adjusting the pillow behind Doe’s head, breaking her gaze with Ben. “He’s having seizures, we suspect an anoxic brain injury.” 

The words hit hard. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” he hissed, running his hands over his face and burying his fingers in his hair. Fuck. 

Anoxic brain injuries were caused by lack of oxygen. Commonly occurring during CPR. Which Ben gave Doe when he crashed in the ambulance. 

“Ben,” Catrina’s voice was adamant, she crossed to where he was sitting, her bright purple shoes invading his eye line as she put her hand on his shoulder.  “We don’t know how serious it is yet. It’s been, what? Eighteen hours since your raid? He’s been through emergency surgery and anesthesia and a whole lot of other things since he’s been here, but there’s still a lot we don’t know. You didn’t do this to him, okay?” 

He wanted to believe her. Logically, he knew that he didn’t do anything wrong. There was no way for him to do CPR better, no way for him to have gotten them to the hospital faster. The witch was so heavily injured at the nest that moving him was a risk, but it was a risk that they had to take. They couldn’t have left him there any longer, and he was going to crash whether they were there or not. It just so happened that Ben and Kincaid were able to get him help when it happened. There was no other option. 

So, logically, he knew he did everything he could. But. . . what could he have done better? 

Ben nodded, taking a shaky breath. It took a minute for his next words to come, but when they did, they evaporated from his tongue with a whisper. “He was conscious at the extraction,” his shoulders curled in, “he could answer questions. . . he was awake.” Her shoes blurred into a smear of purple, and he sniffed, swallowing hard against the tears. He was so fucking tired. 

Catrina’s inhale was soft, surprised, and her hand tightening  on his shoulder. 

“You know what that raid was for?” he asked, tipping his head up to look at her face. Even if it wasn’t openly stated in the reports, a lot of people would put two and two together. It just took a person who actually believed that there was the supernatural out there. 

At Catrina’s nod, he lowered his gaze again, feeling a tear slip down to dampen his mask. He closed his eyes, the scene playing out behind his eyelids. “Raids are these brief, staccato clips. They move so fucking fast, and you have to piece everything together afterward.” He shook his head, sighing heavily. “I haven’t. . . haven’t gotten the chance to do that yet.” 

Catrina didn’t press him, didn’t stop him either. She settled on her knee. Patient. Expectant. 

Ben swallowed, chest heavy. “When we first breached the building. . . “ he stared, words wet and slow, “there was this barrage of humans and vamps trying to get out. Until, just, one second to the next—“ he made a poof motion with his hand, “—they were just gone. I don’t know what happened, how they got out.” His eyes were wide, unseeing, and he didn’t feel his body shaking. “There were a few stragglers, but otherwise it was this dark silence that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

“After every corner, we expected there to be a hoard of them ready to pounce on us. Every sense was on high alert for any noise, some small—“ his face screwed up in search of the right word, “—animal corner of your mind trying to feel where the predator was going to come from. Our teams cleared most of the compound by the time we made it up to the clinic, but so much was still unknown.” His breath hitched, and he let go of his hair, his hands falling between his knees. Shaking. “We didn’t have any idea what we were walking into, really. There wasn’t much to it, just some curtains and medical supplies. It was innocuous.” 

He paused again, licking his lips behind the mask. Nose not quite stuffed enough to miss the medicinal smell of the disposable shield. “The other rooms on the floor were all empty, everywhere you expected someone to be was empty. So when we heard the machines, it was just background noise. Enough to know we needed to be on guard, but we were on guard anyway.

“We have these flashlights on the ends of our guns,” he said, waving a hand in vague explanation,” and the lights jump around, create these jerky splashes of light and shadow on the walls. They’re useful, but it also makes you jumpy as hell.” Another tear slipped free, dripping down to plop quietly onto the sleeve of his crinkly, yellow gown. “When we pulled back that curtain. . . I think the only thing that saved him was the fact that he couldn’t move.” Shame flushed through him, and his bit his lip, throat closing up over his words as he fought to explain himself. “None of us expected to see someone in that clinic. In the cells below? Sure. In the quarters with the vamps? Yeah. But for some reason, we all expected that clinic to be empty once we got up there.”

Ben blew out a choked breath, almost a sob, tucking his chin against his chest before he continued.

“The sinking feeling that went through my gut when I saw that figure on the bed. Fuck. For a second, everybody just froze.” Logically, Ben knew that he should be filtering his words. That he should stop. That Catrina didn’t need to hear about how scared her patient was when he was found, or what it did to Ben to see him like that, but the words wouldn't stop. “He was so scared. Hands flat—“ Ben flattened his own for a second in demonstration, “—on the bed like he could be any threat to anyone in the condition that he was in, like he wasn’t already strapped down and helpless” 

Catrina’s breath caught, and he saw her gloved hand go shakily to her mouth. 

“I’ve got a lot of training,” he wiped at his eyes, looking into Catrina’s dark eyes, unsurprised to find tears there too, “enough to know that how they were treating him. . . “ He shook his head, unable to put it into words. She would know better than he would anyway.  “He was too weak to talk, but the way he looked at us. . . “ Tears were choking him, and he couldn’t get a full breath. “And now. . . now. . .” 

He wasn’t expecting the arms pulling him in, the warmth of Catrina’s embrace, but he gave in to it all the same. His head rested heavily on her shoulder, her gloved hand on the back of his hair, the latex pulling slightly at the short strands there. Her breaths weren’t steady either, and he heard her cursing quietly under her breath, her voice shaking. 

When they pulled apart, Catrina looked him dead in the eye, her hand tight on his bicep. “It wasn’t your fault, okay?  What he needs, now, is for us to take care of him and for you to find out who did this, and who he is. Find where he belongs, right?” Another tear escaped, her mascara smudged underneath her eyelashes. 

Ben nodded, sniffling quietly before he rubbed his tears away with the back of hand. “Yeah. . .” he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath and straightening his shoulders, “yeah, we’re gonna find who did this.” 

They both looked over to the John Doe, his unconscious figure unchanged from where Catrina had left him. 

Ben was going to find who did this if it was the last thing he ever did. 

[pogueshomecoming]

sunset boat trip - JJ Maybank x reader

requested? yes: @5secondsofsleeping  Hiya! I was wondering if you could do a jj x reader where the reader is a photographer, and maybe she asks the pogues to join on one of their boating trips so she can get pictures of the sunset, but jj is really intrigued with her and wants to ask her out ! If you can’t that’s ok, thank you! :) stay safe (hi! I loved this request! Thank you so much. I hope you’re staying safe as well.❤️)

fill out this survey to join my taglist(s), here’s my masterlist, and requests are open

warnings: a lot of cute JJ fluff. Like two swear words I think. I love this.

word count: 1.9k

++

The Pogues had just gotten done eating at the Wreck, thanks to Kie convincing her parents to provide them with a meal.

Pope and JJ were messing around, pushing each other side to side as the four of them walked down to the dock where the HMS Pogue was tied up. That’s why they literally collided into John B when he stopped abruptly. Kie was trailing behind, so she stopped in time.

“Bro, JB, what’s up with that?” JJ asks, not looking at him but bending over to pick up his hat off the ground.

John B holds up a finger, telling him to shush, then points toward the boat.

JJ’s eyes follow and find you. You’re taking steps back and forth, leaning in different directions, trying to get a proper angle with a camera stuck as close as possible to your face. He can’t see your full face, but he’s mesmerized by how you scrunch your nose as if it helps make the picture more perfect.

“Woah.” JJ doesn’t realize the word slipped from his mouth until all three of the Pogues look at him. His cheeks turn rosy from embarrassment, which never happens for JJ.

“Hey, can we help you?” John B steps forward, trying to get your attention.

It obviously startles you, but you recover quite nicely, turning around to face where the voice came from. JJ sees your eyes widen slightly, probably because you expected one person, not four.

“Oh, hi. Is this your boat? I was just taking some pictures. I’ll delete them if you want. Sorry if I was in your way.” You step to the side, letting go of your camera, so it hangs around your neck.

“No, no need to do that. It’s about time somebody appreciates the Pogue and all of her beauty.” John B laughs, turning to narrow his eyes at his friends.

“Are you new here?” JJ ignores John B’s banter. He’s really only interested in you.

“Uh, yeah. My family travels during the summer so I can practice my photography. Not sure how long we’ll stay.” You shrug, shying away under the blonde boys stare, but he doesn’t mean for it to come off as overbearing as it did, so he looks away.

“Cool. I’m Kie, this is Pope, JJ, and John B.” Kie speaks up, pointing at the boys in the order they’re standing in front of her.

“I’m Y/N. Are you guys... are you about to go out for a ride? I’d love to get some pictures of the sunset from somewhere other than the beach.” You watch them all share a glance with each other.

“Sure, we’ve always got room for one more. Let’s go.” Kie smiles.

John B passes you, jumping into the boat with no hesitation. Pope gives you a curt nod. JJ moves past you, trying not to look at you. And Kie motions for you to go ahead of her, muttering something about the boys not knowing how to be gentlemen.

You make yourself comfortable at the front of the boat, snapping pictures as you cruise out of the populated area. The four of your new friends seem to have gone silent, but you don’t mind. You meet new people every day, and awkward isn’t a feeling you get.

What’s actually happening behind your back is Kie trying to nudge JJ to go sit by you, but he refuses. He stands next to John B, pretending to be okay with having nowhere to sit. Until John B suddenly changes speeds, sending JJ stumbling forward.

Thankfully, he catches himself before he reaches you, but now he’s close enough that you know he’s there.

“Hey, JJ, right?” You turn. His face is red, and his hair is messy.

“Yeah. I was wondering if I could see the pictures you took of the boat earlier.” JJ scratches at his neck, and you smile.

“Really? Sure, sit down.” You scoot over a little bit even though there is plenty of room. Showing people the pictures you take is almost more exciting than taking them.

JJ sits down next to you, and you put the camera in his hands, leaning over him a little to show him which buttons to press and scroll through them. You’re more focused on his face than the pictures because you want to see his reactions, but you do it discreetly.

“Woah, hey, JB, she got a picture of the dent you put in the side with my head.” JJ laughs, his smile lighting up his whole face as he turns the camera toward the other three.

JJ proceeds to look back at you and explain the story behind every big scratch or mark he can see in the pictures. It was one of the reasons you’d stopped to take photos of the boat anyway because it had so much more character than all of the spotless yachts around it.

“Y/N, does this look like a good place to stop? We can keep going if you want.” John B interrupts JJ’s story about the time he melted the leather seat with his lighter. On accident, of course.

“Oh, do whatever you normally do! I’m just along for the ride.”

Pope, Kie, and John B immediately start stripping out of their clothes. As soon as you realize they’re going to jump in, your grab your camera from JJ to adjust some of the settings and start snapping photos.

You get a few of them resurfacing and smiling and laughing at each other, but then you move on to taking pictures of the horizon. It’s a gorgeous rust orange color with a hint of golden hour sun. The best time.

JJ coughs, and you realize he’s still sitting near you, watching you bend and twist to get angles you want. When you turn to look at him, the glow is hitting him in the prettiest way.

“You don’t want to swim with them?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“No, I’d rather stay up here with you if that’s alright.” JJ can’t tell what it is about you that’s so intriguing, but he doesn’t want to leave your side.

“Can I take some pictures of you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the lighting is perfect right there.” He looks perfect right there, you think.

“Oh, uhm, yeah, what do you want me to do?”

“I’m actually going to get some close-ups if you don’t mind.”

JJ gives you a small smile, motioning his hand to provide you with permission to come closer. You get some great pictures of his side profile that are more so of an outline with the way the light is behind him. You have him turn toward the sun and get really close, capturing the sunset in the reflection of his ocean blue eyes.

When you lower the camera to look at it, you don’t realize that you didn’t lean away from him. He looks at the small camera screen with you, gasping at how amazing your skills are.

“You have really nice eyes.” You tell him, looking up to see he’s only inches away.

“Thank you,” JJ speaks softly because of your close proximity. For a moment, you’re lost in each other’s gaze. Until he stands up, holding out his hand.

“My turn, let me take some of you. You’re right about the light looking perfect.”

Reluctantly, you hand over the camera. You’re definitely more comfortable behind it than you are in front, but JJ makes it fun. He’s constantly talking, for one thing, asking you which buttons do what and stuff in that nature.

JJ is also hyping you up. Playfully, of course, things like “Yes, girl, work it!” or “Come on, give me a smile. I know you got one.” And your personal favorite, “Absolute model material right here.”

And by the time he hands you the camera back, the rest of his friends are done swimming and returning to the boat. The oranges and reds of the sky have turned into dark purples and blues, so it’s time to head in.

JJ sits next to you, ready to see how his pictures turned out, but you shiver from the wind. He gets up immediately, grabbing his towel that went unused from the seat across from you, and wraps it around your shoulders. You smile at him, but both of you miss the raised eyebrows of the three pogues at the back of the boat. Kie snaps a picture of the two of you, just in case you’d want to see it on your wedding day.

As the two of you scrolled through the pictures JJ snapped, it was apparent very early that JJ didn’t know how to focus the camera. Meaning they weren’t very clear, and he was upset.

“Damnit, I was trying so hard! Yours are so cute, and mine are shit.”

“Did you just call yourself cute?” You look over at JJ, and even in the low lighting, you can see him blush.

“Oh, I... No. Did I? You’re cute, is what I meant to say.” JJ recovers nicely, leaving it your turn to blush.

“Sorry, you probably expected some good quality pictures of you, and I couldn’t do that.” JJ sighs, running a hand through his coarse hair.

“No, no, it’s fine. It was fun, and the blurriness will always remind me of how much you made me laugh.” This makes JJ smile again, a sight you love to see.

The rest of the ride is pretty calm. Kie comes to sit with you two and asks about all of the places you’ve been to. You use your phone to show her some of your favorites, and JJ is awestruck by your talent.

“Should we drop you back at the Wreck, Y/N?” John B asks, slowing down as he enters the channel.

“Yes, please, my bike is there.”

Soon enough, it’s time to say your goodbyes.

“Thank you guys for letting me tag along. I had a lot of fun.”

“We’re always around, you can join us any time.” John B salutes you, and you wave goodbye to Pope and Kie.

“I’ll walk you up to your bike,” JJ tells you, nodding at the others to wait for him.

His hand is resting lightly on your back while you make your way up the pier. There’s your bike, locked to a bike rack outside the end of the restaurant.

“So... did you really have a good time tonight?” JJ asks, clicking his tongue.

“Yeah, I did. I love the island in general. You guys are so nice, so carefree.”

“Enough of a good time to stay for a while?” JJ raises his eyebrows like he’s hinting at something, and you understand immediately.

“I think I could be convinced.” You tease, pushing a piece of your hair out of your face.

“Would you want to go on a date? Meet me here tomorrow night at seven. Wear something cute and bring a swimsuit.” He rocks back on his heels, waiting for a response. You pause unlocking your bike lock for a second.

“Alright. I’ll do that. See you then.”

You take a step forward, pushing onto your tiptoes and pressing your lips gently to his cheek. JJ smiles as you step away, giving you a nod and a small wave as he turns around and retreats back down to the dock.

Instead of continuing to enter your combination, you step around the edge of the building, just a tad. You watch JJ skip to the boat, throwing his hat down as he jumps in.

“She said yes!”

++

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[snusbandxknifewife]

Photo Fic 2: Electric Boogaloo

Ok so this is the sequel to the first fic I ever posted on this account. (If you wanna read that one first, click on the photo fic tag at the bottom.) I think it’s cute as hell and I’m soft about it so 🥺 Jude and Cardan wanting to take pictures together makes me 🥺🥺🥺

~~~~~~~~~

In the year after Cardan and Jude took their very first photos in a photobooth, photography became a bit of a fascination in Faerie. Jude didn’t intend for it to happen, but what royalty does tends to become the fad in the kingdom.

It started when they’d bought a Polaroid and began to take pictures of one another, eventually amassing so many that they’d dedicated an entire hall to photos of them. It was both of their favorite place in the entire palace, where they both went to see the other smile and drown in happy memories.

Then a servant had left a door open and a visiting dignitary had seen inside. After that, word quickly spread around the kingdom of the King and Queen’s portrait hall: the place where they’d managed to capture pieces of real life. Jude and Cardan had sighed and agreed to throw the doors open, allowing people to tour the wonder.

(Of course they’d continued to take dumb photos and risqué ones too, but they were much better at hiding those. Jude was insistent that only the dramatic or kickass photos get sent to the hall.)

They’d graduated to a better camera and they’d started to send requests for Vivi to print them. As the photos got bigger and more detailed, the people of Elfhame grew more impressed. All over the kingdom, tinkerers and witches and everyone in between began trying to craft devices that would capture photos in ways the mortal devices couldn’t. It had become a fierce competition, one that amused both Jude and Cardan.

Now, on Cardan’s birthday, the entire kingdom was watching with bated breath. The Living Council had announced a competition to find the best camera creation and, in addition to all the gifts people were bringing for the king, the great hall was full of photographs. The king would be choosing the most realistic picture, and he’d also be awarding the most beautiful one.

Jude sat on her throne, her red empire waist dress floating down to her feet and glittering in the light. She’d worn it at Cardan’s insistence; since he’d announced that their subjects would undoubtedly be taking pictures of them and he wanted his wife to shine just as much as her.

Beside her, Cardan smiled and greeted the family of a soldier from the Court of Termites. Bomb took their gift and stacked it on a table to the side of the royal dais. The picture they brought with them is a gorgeous rendering of a hill overlooking a lake at sunset. It appears to be painted, the work of an extremely diligent artist who had undoubtedly spent days getting everything right.

The photos people came with weren’t all actual photographs, most were art pieces, but it made Jude smile. She couldn’t help but feel proud at the fact that she’d inspired her kingdom to try something they’d never really focused on before. At least she knew she wouldn’t have to keep going to the mortal world to get pictures with her husband. She’d be able to stay in Faerie, safe in what she was familiar with, and she’d still be able to capture important moments in her life.

Still, she’d had to go to the mortal world to get the gift she wanted for Cardan. She’d done that a few times in the past year—her husband’s favorite had been the pinup shoot she’d done about five months prior—and he had a habit of rotating the framed pictures of her he kept on his desk.

She knew she’d have to stop eventually, so she took all her chances while she still had them. She was glad that the timing of this one has worked out.

Time passed and she played the dutiful queen and adoring wife, dancing with Cardan and eating to her heart’s content, greeting her subjects and accepting gifts that didn’t come with any strings attached.

Cardan watched her over the top of his chalice, grinning at how effortlessly she swayed across the floor. With her head held high and her shoulders back, she commanded the whole room without a word. His wife was gorgeous, she was his everything.

Eventually their people became antsy, looking around at the pictures hanging all around the hall and wondering who would be announced the winner. Members of the Living Council were interviewing everyone who’d put in an entry to find out how they made their picture as Cardan led Jude to look at each piece. They’d make the decision on the most beautiful picture alone, and they’d take the Living Council’s input on the best camera entry.

Jude’s favorite was definitely the picture someone had turned in of a revel from a few weeks back. It had been outside, everyone barefoot and dancing until the sun had long come up. The picture showed a dance floor lined with faeries in all manner of dress, watching on as she and Cardan danced. Her dress that night had been a spring green piece with a dangerously low back and skirts that danced around her ankles. Her husband, shown smiling as he swung her around, had a ruffled shirt open low on his pale stomach and breeches of forest green.

Cardan’s favorite was a picture put in by a guard, one that showed his wife dressed in fighting gear as she practiced out in the gardens; her hair sticking to her skin and her face fierce as she lunged towards her sparring partner. He always adored little reminders of how deadly his wife was, loved to see glimpses of the creature that he’d managed to tame, the one who’d tamed him in turn.

They retreated to their thrones to deliberate as Cardan opened gifts. The whole hall went silent, watching the king’s reaction to each parcel. While gifts had to be freely given, everyone knew that those who gave the best gifts would be looked upon favorably.

Jude watched the room for threats as her heart began to race. She knew that the last gift Cardan would open would be the one from her. She’d made sure that Bomb arranged everything that way.

She’d worked her ass off to keep her gift a secret from him. Cardan had been a pain in the neck for WEEKS, trying to catch her in a slip up. She had to engineer a diplomatic mission for him to go on just so she could sneak away to the mortal world and she’d threatened a few lives to keep it from him. Thankfully, it would all be over in a few hours.

Cardan opened all manner of magical gifts: cloaks meant to make the wearer invisible, doublets of impenetrable spider silk, jewelry that helped you understand and speak other languages. Everything he was given was gorgeous and unbelievably expensive.

Everything except for one thing.

Cardan was just about to grab the parchment from Randalin that announced the best camera so they could make their announcements when Jude stopped him.

“Cardan, you’ve got one more gift,” she gently announced and his brows furrowed. One, Jude was hardly ever gentle and two, he had opened everything he’d been given.

Bomb walked up and handed Jude a box, one made of lush purple velvet and wrapped up in a bow of the cleanest white satin.

“What on Earth?” Cardan tilted his head to the side as he accepted the gift, his long fingers wrapping all the way around it as he tried to weigh it to guess what was inside.

“Consider it my entry into the photo contest,” she grinned, only confusing him more.

He pulled the bow off and the entire crowd watched closely. Some were intrigued, others were angry—nobody had been told the queen would be submitting a photo—and others were just being quiet to avoid the ire of the royal family.

When Cardan took the top off the box, he found a picture frame upside down and he snorted. It was just like Jude to prolong the drama.

Jude grabbed fistfuls of her fluffy tulle skirt and bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to make it bleed. She knew that she’d have to explain what it was and that was making her nervous enough to shake.

She’d debated for hours if she should give him his birthday gift in private or if she should do it at his party. Eventually, at the insistence of Vivi and Heather, she’d taken the plunge and decided on a public announcement. She knew everyone would find out eventually.

“It’s.....a photo?”

Jude snorted at Cardan’s evident confusion as he looked at the black and white fuzzy picture, no larger than his hand. She’d put it in a pretty white frame, one that she would eventually write a name on.

“You’re right, my love,” she agreed. “It’s a photo from the mortal world. You see, mortals have figured out how to take pictures for medical purposes. They can use special devices to see inside the body.”

He looked to her, delicately clutching the frame in one hand. She fought the urge to laugh at how he still hadn’t put two and two together. Out in the crowd, faeries were tittering amongst themselves, trying to figure out what their queen has given their king.

“Is this a photograph of you?” He turned back to the picture, gripping it in both hands again and turning it like a different angle would make it make more sense.

“Sort of,” she shook her hand in a so-so gesture. “I’d say I’m the background of the photo. You should be focusing here.”

She walked over and pointed, her nail with its unchipped purple paint tapping against the glass over a strangely shaped white blob. Cardan naturally leaned closer to her, as he always did when she got near, one of his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close as he tilted his head and squinted his eyes.

Silence stretched out for a few more seconds before Jude, near giddy with mirth, stepped away from her husband.

“Maybe it’ll help if you know where the photo was taken,” she offers as she grabs the frame from his hands. Cardan, his mind still swimming with possibilities, allowed her.

Then, as his wife turned the photo to face him and drew it back so the frame was flush against her lower abdomen, his jaw dropped.

If she was the background, and the photo was taken inside the body—

“Jude, gods above, how long have you known?” Cardan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fell to his knees, his hands coming up to cup his wife’s hips and his thumbs running over where the frame covered her stomach.

Just that quickly, her throat closed up from emotion and all she could do was nod. Cardan grabbed the frame from her and tucked it against his heart as he pressed his face into her skirts, trying to kiss her stomach and hide his crying all at the same time.

Some faeries had put the clues together and were watching with gaping mouths, unsure of what to do as their king hugged their queen.

Then, Jude pulled Cardan to his feet and she turned to the crowd. “The gift I present to my king and husband is the first photograph of our child, which grows inside me as we speak.”

And, just like that, the entire hall erupted with celebration. Most of their subjects had grown to love their new king and queen and, even if that weren’t the case, a pregnancy was always cause for celebration among the fertility-challenged fae. A royal baby, especially so early on in both the king and queen’s rule and their marriage, was unheard of.

Randalin—who looked a bit annoyed at not being informed of the royal pregnancy before the court was—led the partygoers in a toast, one that Cardan happily joined in. Beside the beaming king, Jude raised her glass of water in solidarity; no wine for her for a few more months.

“How long?” Cardan asked her, near giddy with excitement.

“The doctor said twelve weeks,” she whispered back, wrapping her arm around her husband’s hips as they raised their glasses again. “I’ve suspected for a month or so. I should’ve known sooner, but my first missed period was during that last uprising attempt, so I was a bit distracted.”

Cardan held out the photo and Jude pointed out the body parts that were already forming. When she told him that she’d be going back, that he’d be able to come with her and hear their baby’s heartbeat while it was still inside her, he nearly began to bawl again.

“When do we announce the winners?” Jude asked, thinking back to that gorgeous picture of them dancing.

“I can’t think of anything more beautiful than this.” He held up the photo of their baby and Jude blushed, elbowing his side and telling him to be serious.

Cardan told her that he was being serious and she bit her lip, looking down at the photo she’d already stared at so much.

The party would grow into a week-long celebration of the new heir; a practice run for the celebrations that would rock Elfhame when the child was born. Eventually, both the faeries who made the two pictures Jude and Cardan had enjoyed the most were made aware that their works were hanging in the royal picture hall and another faerie who’d made the best camera was given a job by the Living Council and they became the first official royal photographer.

Elfhame would grow to love photography, all because of a mortal queen who wanted a picture with her husband.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hnnnnng pregnancy announcements are so cute lol

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks @queen-of-glass @b00kworm @doingmyrainbow @andromeddea @jurdanhell @thesirenwashere @sweetlyvillainous @clouds-and-peonies @clockworkgraystairs

[garagnon-gallery]

Guide to Food photography

from culinary nutrition----

by Anna Pelzer

The Best Food Photography Settings Ever

Awesome Cookery Recipes for Your Next Project

Do you want to photograph your recipes but aren’t sure where to begin? Food photography opens the door to so many possibilities, such as Instagramming, writing e-books, product photography and more! It’s also a creative outlet and a fun way to work with color and express your own style. As a food photographer, I’m often asked for tips about how to take great photos. Let’s get started with this introduction to food photography!

Camera

First up, you need a camera! If you are just starting out, you may want to begin with a point-and-shoot because of its low cost and its ease of use. You can learn the basic functions of a point-and-shoot in a few minutes. (Like the name says, you just point and shoot.)

A DSLR is steeper both in price and in learning curve. I won’t get too technical, but DSLR stands for ‘digital single lens reflex’. This means when you take a picture, the camera opens up its shutter, the image reflects on to the camera’s internal mirror, and then on to the sensor. I started out using a point-and-shoot, but switching to a DSLR made a world of difference in clarity and color representation. A DSLR also gives you much more control in different light situations. For me, the price difference was worth it. If you have someone in your life who is really good at finding deals online, this may be a great way to find a used DSLR.

However, whether you are using a point-and-shoot, DSLR, or a phone camera, the basic principles of composition are the same.

Creating Bright Images

Shutter speed, aperture, and ISO are the three elements that affect the brightness of your images. Let’s talk about them in a little more detail.

Shutter Speed

The speed at which the shutter opens can be slowed down to allow more light to hit the sensor in low light situations. I do this on dark, gloomy days or in the fall when it gets dark early. However, with the shutter being open longer, there can be more blur and therefore you might need a tripod. As a rule of thumb, I shoot handheld at 1/125th of a second – you may have a steadier hand than I, but below 1/100th of a second, I use a tripod to avoid camera shake (this results in blurry images).

Aperture

Aperture refers to the width of the opening of your lens. Opening up the aperture lets in more light and also creates a shallow depth of field, resulting in more background blur. This effect allows you to draw the viewer’s eye to where the camera focus is. The lower the number, the wider the aperture. Thus, if you want a sharp focus in one area with a lot of background blur, you may choose a lower number such as 3.2 or 3.5. If you want background objects to be more in focus – a wider depth of field – you may choose a higher number, for example, 11 or 14 (remembering that this won’t let in as much light and you will need to adjust shutter speed or ISO).

ISO

ISO refers to your camera’s sensitivity to light. It is the element I would adjust last, after shutter speed and aperture, because having a high ISO can affect the quality of your image, creating “noise” especially in the darker areas of the photo. I try to keep ISO below 500, but in a dark situation, if I don’t have a tripod and my aperture is already wide open, I will go higher.

Using Light in Food Photography

My preference is to use natural light whenever possible. Professional lights are available however, I would recommend getting familiar with your camera and using natural light before making that investment.

The most important thing is to avoid, as far as lighting goes, indoor kitchen lighting as it casts a yellow glow on your food. If, however, you have food that you want to photograph and it’s 5 pm on a rainy day in November, and you have no choice but to use your indoor lighting, turn your white balance to the Tungsten setting. This will add more blue to your shot and neutralize the yellow.

Another thing to consider is which direction you want the light to come from. Back lighting is the technique I use most. I usually prefer to stand facing my subject on a table with a window on the other side of the table. I find the way the light hits the subject to be the most pleasing to my eye. But try letting the light hit from the front and the side and see what you prefer most! Depending on the weather and the type of dish I am photographing, my preference will sometimes change.

On a dark day, if using back lighting, you may need to bounce some light back at your subject to reduce shadows on your food. You can purchase reflectors designed for this purpose from photography stores. You could also use foam core, poster board, or anything on hand that is white. In a pinch, I have even used napkins and a roll of paper towel!

Composition

If you were to draw two vertical lines and two horizontal lines evenly across your image, dividing it into nine squares, then having the point of focus at one of the intersections adds compositional interest to the photo. This is known as the rule of thirds and is why you may see this on your camera or photo editing software.

One possibility would be to place your main subject near the front and have other blurred out subjects behind, to lead the viewer’s eye through the photo.

Vertical or Horizontal Photos?

Try getting one good shot of each. Vertical works well for Instagram and Pinterest, while horizontal is ideal for blogs, banners and Facebook.

Angles

There are a few common angles you can use to successfully photograph food:

A 45 degree angle shows food as if you were sitting down to eat it. This is one of my favorite angles, as it shows a beautiful texture. There will usually be more focus towards the front of the dish.

Shooting from top down (directly overhead) can show the entire dish in even focus (if everything is the same height), but you lose some of the texture.

A straight on angle can be used to show height if, for example, you are showing a stacked sandwich or a drink.

Styling

A crucial point to food photography is to have your food looking its best. I like to add some raw vegetables or herbs alongside cooked foods to add more freshness to the dish, especially if the meal is brown, such as chili. I soak herbs and greens in cold water for about 30 minutes before using and remove any wilted ones. I add garnishes for color and interest, preferably ones that show something that went into the dish – such as a basil leaf in a pesto.

Plating

If you are making steaks and one is perfectly browned and looks better than the others, put that one in front or on top and make it your camera focus.

In food photography, full bowls are desirable. Even if your normal serving of soup only fills up half the bowl, fill it up for the photo! I stop before it reaches the point of overflowing, although you may want to experiment with drips – many people make that part of their style. It can be helpful to use smaller plates, bowls and other serving pieces in food photography, as large ones can overwhelm the food and make it more difficult to make those full bowls. sauces can soak into the food

When you are setting up your shot, reserve some sauce to add once you figure out your perfect angle. I always take a few shots before adding dressing to a salad because the leaves can start to wilt quickly from the oil and acid.

Best Food Photography Props

Use neutral props that keep the focus on the food. Avoid busy, distracting patterns on plates as the food can become lost in the photo. My favorite dishes are gray or white and matte, so there is no glare shining back at the camera and the food is what stands out.

Another thing I highly recommend using is a wooden background board, which you can purchase from Etsy, My favorite board was made from an old barn door! With wooden boards, I again look for a matte finish to reduce glare, as well as interesting textures.

I prefer to use clean backgrounds so the focus is entirely on my dish. However, you may want to display some of the ingredients around the food to show part of the cooking process. Other options for adding interest include colorful napkins, flowers or unique serving utensils. Check out secondhand shops for some great vintage finds.

Also try using a hand model to show interaction with the food!

5 Suggested Props for Beginners

Wood background board or large cutting board

Monotone plate and bowl

Vintage cutlery (check out thrift shops)

Cloth napkin or a dish towel

Stemless wine glass or Mason jars for smoothies or parfaits

Do not let a lack of props or a hand-me-down camera stop you from creating. You can create amazing art on a plate just by having fresh and colorful food displayed in your own unique style. Remember that good food photography takes time to master and it’s OK if you don’t love your photos right away. Practice as much as you can and enjoy the process!

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tell us what you like about our website or what you don't like, and what you would like to see in the future.

WE HAVE MANY TUTORIALS ON PHOTOGRAPHY

FOR BEGINNERS, INTERMEDIADE, AND ADVANCED PHOTOGRAPHERS.

[vangoghmusings]

status | kiego takami x reader

a/n: hello! this is chapter two of my hawks multi part fic. i hope you guys are liking it so far! also, ruisu is an oc inspired by my lovely bb @lilacskyura

previously: chapter one

pairing: kiego (hawks) takami x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cursing, sexual innuendos

links: playlist | wattpad

taglist: @mixfi​ @lilacskyura​ @katsuhoee​ @star-mum​ @moonlightinsanity​ @domhoni​ 

                       ⫷ chapter two: amateur ⫸

"So, we have a special someone who is joining us for the campaign!"

Y/N sat still with her eyes closed while the makeup artist worked on her. It was Friday, the day of the Chanel cologne campaign.

"So its a collaboration?"

Ruisu asked, looking up from her phone. Her black hair was tied back, accentuating her freckled cheekbones. If Ruisu wanted to, she could probably become a model too. However, with her analysis quirk and impeccable sense or organization, she found joy being an assistant, especially to as someone as kind as Y/N.

"Yes, he should be here shortly," The campaign directed replied.

"I should've known, it is a cologne campaign after all," Y/N mumbled while the makeup artist applied the false lashes to her lids.

"He's probably super hot," Ruisu giggled, crossing her legs and turning to Y/N. She simply rolled her eyes in response, sitting up and sipping from her iced tea.

"You know I don't like mixing my love life with work."

"What love life?" Ruisu questioned with a cocked brow. Y/N scoffed and placed her hand on her chest as if she was in agony.

"Ouch Ru, sorry I haven't found anyone up to my standards."

The hairstylist came in and greeted Y/N before getting to work.

"I just think you should put your self out there."

"I'm basically on every other billboard in Japan, how much more out there can you get?"

"I don't know!" Ruisu sighed. "I guess you're just intimidating."

Y/N took a sip from her tea and smirked.

"Good."

The stylist proceeded to brush Y/N's hair and add large amounts of gel to it, in order to attempt a "slick wet" look.

The shoot was supposed to give the look of a sensual shower scene. Glass panels, mirrors, blue lighting, and a steam machine were all prepped. The only thing that was left was semi-nude Y/N and the elusive special guest.

Once the stylist finished with her hair, Y/N stood up, tightening her robe and tossed her empty teacup in the garbage.

"He's here!" The director exclaimed and called Y/N over, Ruisu following.

Walking in and standing next to the director was a tall, tan, and fit blonde. Each step he took radiated with confidence. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. She recognized him right away, and to say she was angry was an understatement.

"Y/N, this is the Winged Hero Hawks!"

Hawks stepped towards you and extended his hand.

"Please, just call me Keigo," He said, his voice like velvet.

Y/N pursed her lips and shook his hand politely.

"I don't work with amateurs so I hope you can keep up," She said tartly, turning on her heel and walking towards the set. Ruisu sighed and faced Keigo.

"Sorry about her, she's not too fond of heroes."

"I can tell," He replied with a slight chuckle.

Kiego was ushered to a change. The staff dressed him in tan boxers that matched his skin, the idea was to look as nude as possible. They began to apply makeup and the artists gushed at having the no. 2 hero in their presence.

Y/N eyed him and scoffed. Ruisu walked over and handed her a bottle of water. Y/N cracked it open and drank.

"You doing okay?"

"Not really," She mumbled while closing the bottle. It wasn't known amongst the media but anyone who was close to Y/N knew she had a deep-seated hatred for heroes.

When Y/N was 12, her little brother drowned at the beach. At the time, She had a broken ankle from soccer and was left with no option other than to call for help. She was sobbing and screaming, unable to help her brother. She was quirkless after all. No heroes came. Eventually, the police came, but it was too late, he had already passed. Y/N constantly beat herself up about the death of her brother. He was only 7 and was gone so quickly. As she got older, she placed more and more of the blame on heroes. No one saved him when she needed their help the most. She had no adults to help her either, her and her brother were adopted by a woman who was well on in her years. By the time Y/N was 18, her adoptive mother was already 74. Ruisu and her mother were the only people she had. Despite her fame, she was incredibly lonely.

Kiego eyed Y/N, who was ranting to Ruisu, while the stylist did his hair. Sure he had seen her on the television, news, practically every billboard in Japan, but he had never truly seen her. He would be lying if he said he wasn't excited when he was told he would be working with her. It appeared to be true what all sources had said about her. She was serious, intimidating, and meant business. But most of all, she was devilishly attractive. Being one of the top models across the globe would make that obvious, but to Keigo the shoots and photographs didn't capture how truly beautiful she looked. It would be safe to say that she was his celebrity crush. He watched as the makeup artist stepped towards her and touched up her skin. She spoke to the staff so kindly and thanked them for every little thing. She was known for being a delight on set but always willing to do her best. That kind of ambition was something Kiego admired. A lot.

"You're all set," the stylist told Kiego. He stood up and walked towards the set. The makeup artist walked over and began to apply oil to his body.

"Oh heh, that's kinda cold," He mumbled. He had done several photoshoots in the past, but nothing as sensual as this. He would be the face of this cologne, a lot was riding on his shoulders- er, wings.

Y/N glared at him and turned to Ruisu.

"This is exactly why I don't like amateurs."

"Oh c'mon be nice-"

"Does it look like I want to be fucking nice right now? They're making me shoot with this moron of a hero-"

Ruisu raised her brow and gestured to the water bottle in Y/N's hand. She sighed and rolled her eyes, opening the bottle back up and chugging.

"Just, be professional. You don't really want hero hater publicized around the world."

Y/N nodded and placed the cap back on.

"I know, I know."

"Okay, everyone! We start shooting in 5."

"Thank you 5!" The staff, Ruisu, and Y/N cheered. She handed Ruisu the water bottle and slipped off her robe. Underneath was a sheer tan two-piece, giving the slight illusion that she was in the nude. Keigo's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at the sight. She turned to face him.

"You ready?"

Keigo nodded, his usual cocky confidence coming back.

"Of course."

The two stepped onto the set. The photographer came forwards to give his instructions.

"Okay so we want seduction, we want sex, steamy, but make it gorgeous. Yes? Yes."

Kiego nodded slowly, the photographer's French accent making it difficult to understand what he was inferring.

The photographer began to pose the two models. He had Y/N press her hands and chest against a glass panel. He then had Kiego press his chest against her back. He tried his best to hide his blush.

One of the staff members turned on a speaker, playing music to add to the atmosphere of the set. The lights were dimmed and the blue lights were amplified.

"And, ACTION!"

The photographer began shooting, Y/N adjusting her poses slightly. To say she was a professional was an understatement. Behind the camera, she was pure art.

"C'mon Hawks get in there! She won't bite!"

Kiego nodded and placed an arm above her, giving a dominating effect. Y/N posed by resting her head on his chest, her lips parting slightly.

'If this is what she looks like posing, I wonder how she looks-'

"HAWKS! FOCUS! Give me more sex, more arousal! Be the alpha!"

Returning from his daze, he nodded.

"Gladly," He growled lowly.

He lowered his head and bit down on her neck, causing Y/N to gasp from shock.

"YES YES!" The photographer cheered, snapping pictures rapidly. "You own her Hawks! Your scent drives her crazy!"

Y/N tried to stay focused and ignore the misogynistic chants from the photographer. She continued to pose while Keigo became more self-assured, running his hands along the curves of her body. He was beyond happy to be paid to lay his hands all over her.

"Y/N turn! We need a new angle."

She nodded and turned to the side, giving a profile of her curves. Kiego was mesmerized, she was glowing under the blue lighting. She made it all look so easy. Y/N raised her hand to cup his cheek, posing and pressing her lips against the side of his mouth.

"YES YES YES!" The photographer cheered.

After 30 more minutes of posing, the photographer gave them a break. Ruisu tossed Y/N her water bottle as she stepped off the set.

"Hey, do you want to grab drinks after this-"

Kiego's proposal was stopped by Y/N holding up her finger as she drank from her bottle. She let out a cool "ah" and closed the water bottle.

"No." She answered curtly.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Damage | Jack Avery

Warnings? Angst? Idk this isn’t good I’m sorry 

Requested? Yes! I hope you like it and if you want a part 2 pls let me know! 

Summary: Jack and you have been best friends since kindergarten. You two grow up together and eventually you become the photographer for his band Why Don’t We. During your job, you and Jacks bandmate Daniel get together. After a long time of dating though, Daniel gets jealous when fans continue to ship you and Jack and Jack’s feelings can’t help but resurface.

Word Count: 2,308 (it’s a long one with a lot of exposition) 

Part Two is here

Five Years Old 

“Jack! Come downstairs for your playdate!” Jack comes barreling down the stairs, nearly ramming straight into his mom and she laughs lightly. 

“Momma who's coming over?” He asks and she squats down to talk to him. 

“Momma's best friend has a daughter your age and we think you guys will be best friends.'' Just as she finishes talking, the doorbell rings and Jack goes running again. His mom takes off after him to catch up just as he's opening the door. 

"Hi Jack! Did you get taIIer?" (y/n)'s mom greets Jack warmly and he smiles. 

Jack's mom greets (y/n)'s mom and the two get caught up just long enough for Jack to stare curiously at the other girl. Before the two can get too antsy and run off, (y/n)’s mom introduces (y/n). 

“Jack, this is (y/n), (y/n), this is Jack,” The two wave shyly at each other and the two moms smile fondly at the sight. 

“Why don’t you two go play outside while we catch up?” 

Jack turns around and speeds off, (y/n) close in tow. He swings open the backdoor and straight for the giant play set in the back. The two run around, playing a sort of chase, up and down the slide, before getting tired and settling on the swings. 

“What’s your favorite color?” Jack asks.

“Pink!” (y/n) exclaims. “What about you?” 

“Green.” 

The two go back and forth like this and by the end, they’ve decided they’re best friends. When (y/n)’s mom comes to get her a few hours later, she protests, insisting she never wants to leave. The two hug tightly and part with the promise that you'll be over again soon. 

12 Years Old 

"(y/n)! Jack is here!" (y/n)'s mom yells up the stairs. 

Before she can respond, her childhood best friend comes barging into the room. He plops onto her bed, instantly relaxing and she turns from her spot at her desk to look at him. 

"What's up?" She asks.

"How am I supposed to ask Anna to the dance?"  He sighs dramatically and she smiles. She  stands up and lays down next to Jack. 

"Just ask her. She obviously likes you." She responds and he rolls his eyes.

The first school dance of the year was this friday and Jack had been freaking out about asking his crush to go with him for weeks. (y/n) had been trying to convince him forever but he insisted she was going to say no. 

"What if she says no?"

"Then you're sad for a bit and then you get up and party at the dance with me." That cracks a smile and the two are back to their normal activities. 

16 Years Old 

“What do you think we'll be doing ten years from now?” (y/n) asks Jack as she rolls over on his bed to face him. 

“I'll be a famous singer and you'll be a photographer. We'll travel the world together and live out our best lives.” She smiles, and Jack turns back around to continue working on his new song. 

As he works, she takes a few Polaroids of him and judges which ones to keep, add to her portfolio and which ones to give to Jack. Just as she sits back down, Jack's mom comes in and knocks on the door. 

“Dinners ready! (y/n) are you staying the night?” She asks and (y/n) looks over at Jack who nods and she copies the action. 

“Sounds good,” His mom says before disappearing again. 

Ever since Jack and (y/n) hit middle school years, they ended up sleeping over at each others houses. Their moms decided that they trusted the other enough for sleepovers, and soon they became a regularity. 

"We'll always be friends right?" (y/n) asks once the two are settled for bed after dinner.

"Always." He smiles and it goes straight to her heart. 

Present Day

"What do you guys have going on today?" (y/n) asks as the boys gather in the living room to leave.

"Meetings, interviews, more meetings." Daniel says while sitting down next to you and pecking your cheek. "You?" 

"A photoshoot and that's it.'' She tells him and he nods.

"Have fun my love." He says kissing her and standing up again. Jack comes up and kisses the top of (y/n)'s head and tells her to have a good day before leaving with the rest of the guys.

3 years ago (y/n)'s best friend had joined a band and ever since they've taken off. Millions of followers, several eps, an album, and another tour coming up here you were. Her best friend had traveled the world and she fell in love with his band mate. Life seemed perfect.

Ever since Jack had taken off in his career (y/n) hasn't been far behind. At the beginning of the band's career she had taken all of their photos. Overtime other artists and influencers have reached out to her and asked her to take photos for their own profiles. She had begun to take off with Jack by her side. 

That was also how she met Daniel. (y/n) first started staying with the band shortly after they all moved to LA and she picked up a few photography jobs. Daniel and her hit it off right away and three years later they were here. Taking on the world by storm.

The boys seemed to have never ending meeting that was starting to take a toll. Zach looked like he was going fall asleep, Daniel wouldn't stop tapping his pen on the table, Jonah was doodling, Corbyn was on his phone like he was still in high school, and Jack was daydreaming. They were usually better than this in meetings, but it felt like they had been going in circles for days. 

"Last two things," The execs say and an audible sigh can be heard around the room. "Your opener and your photographer. Who do you want?" 

"Wait, we can bring a photographer with us?" Daniel perks up and Jack does the  same. 

"Whoever you want." 

The boys come home that day more excited than ever. (y/n) had just gotten home from her shoot and was flipping through the photos she had taken when they came practically crashing through the front door. The loud noise causes her to jump, and she spins around to see them bounding through the door. 

“(y/n)!!” Jack and Daniel both yell at the same time and she sits up quickly. 

“What’s up?” She asks confused as to what the big commotion has been about. 

“You free for the next few months?” Jack asks.

Once the boys settle enough to explain that they would pay (y/n) to tour with them and take their pictures she practically has the same reaction as they did. She had been wanting to do a tour with an artist for as long as she could remember and now to have this opportunity especially with her best friends was a dream come true. 

We work out the details and (y/n) leaves the house practically screaming inside and out. This was everything to her and she couldn’t believe this was actually going to happen. She was also so excited to travel with her best friends and essentially make great memories for months. 

Two Months Later

“Do you have your laptop?” (y/n)’s mom asks, frantically turning around to look around her near empty apartment. 

“In my backpack,” She tells her. 

“Your chargers? Enough film? Your SD cards? Did you pack enough socks?” She asks and (y/n) sighs. 

“Ma,” She says and her mom smiles. “I got it.” 

“Okay baby I love you,” She says and (y/n) hugs her mom tight and promises to call as much as possible. Just as they let go, (y/n) hears the shrill beep from the boys car and grabs her bags. 

She heads down to the car, where Daniel and Jack meet her. They grab her bags and put them into the trunk before climbing back into the car and diving head first into a summer they would never forget. 

“Are you serious?” She asks. 

“Dead. Come on!” Corbyn begs (y/n) and she rolls her eyes but holds her camera up regardless. 

Her and the boys were stuck in the airport for at least another half an hour and came up with the brilliant idea to snap some photos while they waited for the plane. Corbyn grips his favorite pillow in his arms, offering a pleading look towards (y/n) as he insists it’ll be a perfect photo for his instagram. She relents finally, and kneels down, getting the perfect angle and snaps shot after shot. 

“Flight 247 to Las Vegas now boarding,” The overhead speaker announces and Corbyn and (y/n) spring up. 

Corbyn grabs his stuff and she follows, running over to where she left hers to find it gone. Her heart drops for a second before she hears a whistle. She snaps her head to the side, seeing Jack raising her backpack in his hand and she smiles gratefully before running over with Corbyn just behind her.

“Gonna need this to start the best summer ever,” Jack says, handing the backpack over with a wink and (y/n) sighs. 

When we land in Las Vegas, we head to the hotel first, dropping off our suitcases and getting everything settled. While (y/n) would get her own room, the rest of the boys had to share one way or another. But they were always on the same floor and ran around to hang out with each other in one room. 

“(y/n)! My beautiful!” Daniel yells walking into your room. “Wanna explore?” 

“Would love to.” 

Daniel and (y/n) head out together with a quick message to the groupchat where they would be. They decide to catch an Uber to the venue and dinner somewhere close considering they haven’t eaten since before they had taken off in Los angeles. 

Just as they get to the venue, Daniel takes her hand, carefully intertwining their fingers and leads her around the place. She can’t help it, and takes out her phone and snaps a couple of photos as Daniel walks in front of her and when he hears the familiar click of a camera, he turns around. 

“Oh come on,” Daniel jokes and (y/n) smiles sheepishly. 

“I can’t help it! You look great and the lighting is unique.” 

She gestures for Daniel to move and she plops down, snapping a few photos. When Daniel has had enough, he moves towards the girl and pretends to come at her like he’s gonna tackle her. She falls back and Daniel ends up hovering over her, a wide smile plastered across his perfect features. 

He leans down, placing a light kiss on her lips and (y/n) reciprocates by leaning up to deepen it. Just as she goes to reach her arms around Daniels neck, someone clears their throat. The two separate and Daniel rolls over to sit down next to her. 

“Am I interrupting?” Jack asks walking over. 

“A little,” Daniel says and (y/n) rolls her eyes. She raises a hand and Jack helps her up. 

“What were you guys doing?” He asks once she’s standing. 

“Oh I was just taking some photos of Daniel,” (y/n) explains gesturing to the scene around her and Jack nods. Over the years he had gotten used to spontaneous photoshoots and could practically spot a perfect picture spot as well as she could. 

“By the way, the fans are obsessed with our photos on instagram,” Jack mentions and Daniel tilts his head to the side. By now he’s moved so he has an arm around (y/n)’s waist and is staring curiously at the younger boy. 

“Corbyn wanted to use my camera so I let him take a few photos of me and Jack,” (y/n) explains looking at Daniel. “How bad are the comments though?” 

“Well,” 

For the past three months, every time Jack and (y/n) posted a picture together on either one's social media the fans went nuts. They “shipped” Jack and (y/n) like crazy and blatantly ignored (y/n)’s current relationship with Daniel. Some fans really just had no boundaries and Daniel was honestly getting tired, (y/n) was hoping to do damage control, and Jack was hoping his secret crush of 13 years wouldn’t get out. 

“Come on man, did you really have to post the photos? You know how bad the fans have been,” Daniel complains and you turn in his arms. 

“Woah, it’s not Jack’s fault they have no boundaries,” (y/n) says defending her best friend. 

“And you can’t tell me what I can and can’t post,” Jack snaps back. 

“Jack chill,” (y/n) says fully stepping out of Daniels arms to get in between the two boys. 

“What’s your damage?” Daniel asks and Jack takes a step forward causing you to take one back. 

“I think you know exactly what my damage is. Don’t act like you didn’t ask for this.” 

“You had your chance man. Don’t act all high and mighty now,” Daniel says and Jack rolls his eyes. 

“You’re one to talk,” He declares and pushes past Daniel and storms off. (y/n) stares at where Jack walks off for a second, shocked at the random argument that occured before turning towards her boyfriend. 

“What the hell was that?” She asks. 

“Something you don’t want to get into,” He responds before walking away. 

(y/n) stands there for a moment, unsure of what to do or even who to choose. What was that argument even about?

[kittinoir]

Phantoms Ch. 4

Read on Ao3 here

Adrien considered himself a kind, forgiving person, but even he stiffened as a familiar high-pitched voice grated against his ears.

“Hi, Adrien!” the voice chirped, right beside him now. Stifling a sigh, Adrien hauled his professional mask into place and opened his eyes, his relaxing thirty minutes in the hair and make up chair clearly over.

“Hi, Lila,” he said. Did she notice the undercurrent of tension in his voice? Did she believe the warmth in it? He certainly didn’t. He’d have to try harder than this. “Did you have a nice trip with your mom?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lila said breezily. She tugged the lapels of her jacket as she sat, straightening out an invisible crease. “It was so great to be home and soak it all in. Your dad even asked if I’d have time to sit down with him and talk about the latest Italian trends for his spring collection - after we shoot this winter one, of course!”

Adrien fought the urge to raise a brow at the lies that rolled off her tongue but her words had hit a nerve. His father didn’t even make time to have dinner with him; as if he was going to sit down with Lila to discuss her fake trip. He had to admit, he was beginning to see why Marinette had such a tough time stomaching Lila. It was harder than he’d realized.

“Of course,” he managed. At least he could avoid looking at her as Ava, his make up artist, tilted his face this way and that. He didn’t know how to navigate their uneasy agreement anymore. He’d kept her at bay for the better part of six months, trading on the only thing that was of any worth to her - his fame. But even that no longer seemed to be enough, and what more she wanted, he could only guess at. Her trip to Italy the past three weeks had been a welcome reprieve. He could only imagine how she would have reacted if she’d been in Paris during his endless hunt for Ladybug. It hadn’t been good the week immediately after his partner’s disappearance.

She seemed fine now, though, as she preened for Marc, her own make up artist. If anything, Lila seemed in higher spirits than he’d ever seen her. One upon a time Adrien might have thought she was beginning to find her place with their friends, but he held no such beliefs about her now. Maybe it wasn’t totally fair to compare her to his arch enemy, but Lila was every bit as dangerous and conniving as Hawkmoth. It had taken nearly losing Ladybug to an akuma to realize it. He wouldn’t underestimate her again. Especially now that he knew Lila’s two enemies were the same person. He didn’t even want to think about her discovering that little truth. They had enough problems to deal with as it was.

“I was thinking,” Lila said, her green eyes sliding to his, “Why don’t we grab some hot chocolate after the shoot, Adrien? You can catch me up on everything I’ve missed and we can spend some quality time together - you know, as friends?”

Adrien suppressed a wince, but it was impossible to miss the thinly veiled threat. The truth was he had a Chinese lesson waiting for him after the shoot and, had it been a normal night, a patrol to prepare for.

But normal was different now, and Viperion and Tigress had patrol covered. If Luka and Juleka’s mom noticed them missing, she never made mention of it - even if band practice had suddenly moved from their house boat to Ivan’s garage. At least, that’s what they’d told her, and the unfortunate truth was Chinese could be put off for an hour or two. Would have to be, if he wanted to uphold his end of their bargain.

“Sure,” Adrian said lightly. “My treat.”

“Like a date?” Lila said smoothly, raising a brow.

Adrien froze, his fingers white-knuckled on the arms of his chair. “What?”

“If it’s your treat,” Lila said, facing him, “Doesn’t that make it a date?”

“Not at all,” Adrien said, fighting for calm. “You can get it next time. Since we’re friends.”

He steeled himself for the tantrums that usually followed when she didn’t get her way, but instead, she just regarded him sadly. “Still not over Kagami?”

Adrien blinked. Kagami. If only. She’d barely spoken two words to him since he’d ended their relationship months ago, unable to move past his feeling’s for Ladybug. He didn’t blame her. But no, Kagami had never really held his heart. It wasn’t her laugh and her eyes and her warmth that he missed.

But as he took in Lila’s glittering eyes, he decided she didn’t need to know that.

“I just…don’t have those kinds of feelings for you,” Adrien said, giving her a facet of the truth - the most important piece of it. “I’m sorry.”

“I see,” Lila said with a short laugh. “My mistake. But I wish you would give me a chance, Adrien. You’d see what a positive influence you’ve been on me. How much I’ve changed. I think you’d be impressed.”

He doubted it, but Adrien kept the thought to himself as he stood. “I’m glad to hear it, Lila. See you out there.”

A blush didn’t even warm his cheeks as he made his way to his trailer. Dozens of girls confessed to him, every single day. He’d gotten used to it since he’d done his first campaign. Most of them didn’t bother him. After all, it wasn’t like any of them knew him personally. Lila did, but there was always an angle with her. She was after his name and the celebrity that came with it. If she had to go through his heart to get it, she would.

Luckily, his heart was guarded by the most formidable woman in Paris. And unfortunately for Lila, she didn’t hold a candle to her.

Still, the back of Adrien’s neck prickled as he got changed for the first look of the shoot. He’d never known Lila to go down without a fight once she had her mind set on something. He’d bet her sympathy was about as real as her sit down with his father. But she hadn’t forced his hand. Why?

His suspicions pestered him throughout the entire shoot. Was it that she genuinely wanted him to care for her? Did she really want him to be ready to move on before she pushed her agenda? And, the most far-fetched of all - was it at all possible she’d had a change of heart?

No, he decided as Lila simpered for the camera, cold even where she leaned against him. There was more to this - more to her rivalry with Marinette and her alter ego - than either girl was letting on. A rivalry he was beginning to realize he was somehow at the centre of. If only Lila realized there wasn’t a competition - Marinette didn’t want him. Not the way he wanted her.

“How about a kiss for this last shot?”

Lila’s voice shattered Adrien’s musings, bringing him abruptly back to the moment at hand. Had she said kiss? No, she hadn’t changed one bit.

Adrien glanced up to where Lila was pointing at the roof of the set. Someone had hung mistletoe from the rafters so that it just dangled into the frame, completing the winter wonderland theme that had been chosen.

Thankfully, the photographer saved him.

“No, no,” Vincent said with a shake of his head. “Romance is not the theme. Sharp, cold lines, minimalism, harsh beauty, that is the vision for Mr. Gabriel’s new line.”

Dramatic, Adrien thought, but from what he could tell, the set up did compliment his father’s designs - and thankfully, saved him from Lila.

“Of course, Vincent,” Lila said. “It was just an idea. I only wanted to show the clothes in their best possible light.”

Vincent waved her off, directing them into position as a light was adjusted.

“I know what you’re doing,” Adrien murmured as Lila stepped up beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she whispered back, a smile dancing around her lips.

“I meant what I said, Lila,” Adrien warned. “I don’t - ”

“I know,” she interrupted, annoyance flashing across her face as her facade finally cracked. “I just think you need a little help mending your broken heart.”

She wasn’t going to stop, he realized. She was going to try to wear him down. It would take the whole truth - as much as he could say - to get her to back off. He hoped.

“Sorry, Lila,” Adrien said, “But my heart isn’t broken. It’s just elsewhere.”

Lila’s head whipped around as those calculating eyes searched his face. Adrien wasn’t sure what she found there, but whatever it was made her scowl.

“Who,” she demanded quietly as Vincent called for them to take their position.

“It doesn’t matter,” Adrien said, lacing his fingers through hers where her hand rested on his shoulder. “It’s not you.”

They fell silent as Vincent began snapping away. Adrien had no doubt this shot would be the pinnacle of his father’s collection; certainly enough frigidness had formed between the two of them to be palpable on film.

“That’s a wrap!” Vincent called ten minutes later. “Great job everyone!”

Adrien relaxed, immediately stepping out from under Lila’s fingers.

“I can make you love me.”

Adrien froze, then slowly turned to face Lila. The girl was staring at him, determination blazing in her eyes, her hands clenched into fists.

“I really don’t think you can,” Adrien said quietly, a hard edge creeping into his voice. “I won’t say this again, Lila. We’re friends. Just friends. And if you want to continue being the face of Gabriel with me, you’ll respect that.”

Dangerous, but he’d figured out why she was suddenly pushing for more from him; she didn’t need his fame anymore. She had her own. Modelling for Gabriel had given her that, along with several other modelling jobs and a sponsorship from a cosmetics line.

But being fired from Gabriel would jeopardize that. It was hard to use someone’s name to open doors when you didn’t work for them anymore, and though Lila might not know it yet, her leverage over him had evaporated the day Marinette had revealed her identity to their team. He’d kept up the charade for convenience - and it was no longer convenient.

“It’s Marinette, isn’t it.” Hatred burned in Lila’s eyes. “It’s always Marinette.”

Adrien pursed his lips but stayed silent. There was no point in denying it. Everyone would know soon enough anyway; the way he felt was impossible to hide. It didn’t matter if she didn’t feel the same way about him. He’d been down that road before. He’d never ask anything from her she couldn’t give, but he’d never been good at hiding his feelings.

But loving her was the one thing he could not, would not apologize for, ever.

“Good bye, Lila,” Adrien said, turning back to his trailer. “I’ll see you at school.”

“Wait a second,” Lila said. He heard her take a few steps after him but she didn’t lay a hand on him again. “We have a date.”

“Not anymore,” Adrien said without turning around.

“You’ll regret this, Adrien,” Lila snapped. “I will own your heart!”

“A heart isn’t something you own, Lila.” Adrien smiled. “It’s something you give. And I’ve already given mine away.”

[kpopchangedmylife44]

Ateez: wedding thread

Part 1: hyung line

Part 2: maknae line

Hongjoong

Proposal:

he prepared for months and wrote a song about your lovestory especially for the proposal

you both get really emotional when he sings the song to you (but how could you not)

Guests:

50-100; would love to invite all of your friends and family, but doesn’t  want to invite everyone he knows, so it doesn’t get out of hand

Outfit:

would design it himself and maybe hire a designer to bring his vision to life (if he can’t do it by himself)

would wear quite a lot of accessories

would make sure that your clothes look good together

Wedding ring:

you would design individual rings that are really unique and express your personality and connection  

Photography:

would love to have his friends and family capture the wedding (Jongho, I see you)

but also has a team of photographers, who will make an aesthetic video and film everything

Venue: somewhere in the city, maybe the top floor of a skyscraper

does a lot of the decoration himself, as he has an eye for details and you love his sense of style

Flowers: blue lilies

Colors of the decoration: dark blues and touches of silver und gold

Music: would compose several songs just for your wedding and gets teary performing them; you both hire your favorite band and dance the night away

On the wedding day

gets really excited but also a little nervous

probably jumps around a lot

asks everyone if they already saw you

his friends calm him down (or try to)

he’s already smiling before you enter the room

but once he sees you, he just wonders how he got so lucky and he can’t wait for you to finally be married

holds you really tight after your first kiss as a married couple

Seonghwa

Proposal:

after being together for 5 years, he couldn’t imagine a life without you, so one day he saw a beautiful wedding ring while window shopping and it became clear to him that he wants to marry you

would prepare for the proposal and wants to be very romantic

you two are in a boat driving around town when he asks you to marry him

he gets a little nervous but nearly cries when you say yes

Guests:

40, your closest friends and family, would prefer a more intimate wedding

Outfit: a really classic look- black or white suit, no accessoires

Wedding ring: a silver ring with diamonds and rubies  

Photography:

you would probably have a long photoshoot in your venue with a lot of changes of the scenery

for the ceremony there are also various photographers, as he wants to capture every moment from every possible angle

Venue:

an old castle, which is beautifully decorated in white and a light pink color and a lot of flowers

Flowers: white roses

Colors of the decoration: white and silver with a touch of pink

Music: a pianist for the ceremony and a band for the party (would also invite all of the members of Ateez, who would perform a song as a surprise)

On the wedding day

freaks out, because he wants everything to be perfect and how you both imagined it

checks every detail 10 000 times

takes his lint roller everywhere, so everything looks spotless

but the second he sees you walking down the aisle, he forgets about everything else

it wouldn’t matter, if the apocalypse happened around you right now, as he couldn’t take his eyes of you and forgets about the surroundings

he just looks at you the whole day and nobody else matters

feels immediately calm when you take his hand

Yunho

Proposal:

you’re together on vacation and he really enjoys your time together

when you both relax on the beach, he feels like he is really living in paradise with you and he wants it to last forever

so one morning before breakfast, he goes to the city and buys an engagement ring

the proposal itself is spontaneous and Yunho is kind of a mess, because he can’t stop smiling and does not remember what he wanted to tell you

but by the look of his eyes you can see how much he loves you

cries when you say yes (and after that you start crying too, but after a while you both laugh together)

Guests:

100-150, this boy knows a lot of people and although it may be a bit much, he just wants to show his love to everyone and wants them to celebrate your special day with him

Outfit: dark blue suit with a flower

Wedding ring: rose gold with a diamond and a signature inside which reads ,,Yours forever”

Photography:

you both wouldn’t like a staged photoshoot, so you ask your friends and family to take spontaneous pictures of you

prefers funny and real pictures

there probably would be a photo booth at the wedding

also hands out instant cameras to several guest

although the pictures are not perfect, they capture your relationship beautifully and feel special to you as the people you love took them

Venue:

a large location with a garden and lots of flowers

Flowers: literally all colors of the rainbow, flowers are everywhere

Colors of decoration: pale blue with touches of all colors, the decoration itself is quite colorful, but it goes together

Music: classical music for the ceremony

for the party you hire a DJ, cause this boy gotta show his moves and no one can hold him

would do a choreography for your wedding dance and you practice a lot

although you both are way to giggly to dance it perfectly, you just enjoy it while spinning around with the love of your life

On the wedding day

he is nervous and really excited

smiles so much, it basically hurts his face

calls you every few minutes, to ask how you’re feeling

his best friend Mingi (who also is his best man) tries to calm him down, but you can imagine how that goes

when he sees you in your wedding outfit, he almost faints and gets teary

thinks to himself ,,How did I get so lucky?”

also asks himself what it took him so long to marry you, it was crystal-clear from the beginning that it was meant to be

can’t wait to finally be your husband

compliments you before the ceremony starts

cries while you hold your speech and does his best to finish his

and the wedding kiss feels like the beginning of a lifetime of happiness

Yeosang

Proposal

you know each other for almost 5 years and also live together

when you have a really bad day, Yeosang gets upset and he wants to make sure, that he’s always there to make you feel better

you both talked about marriage before, but you were really chill about it and took your time

but Yeosang feels like your relationship is on another level, because you are basically the light of his life and he wants to call you his wife/husband

so a week after your breakdown he comes up with the idea for the proposal

you go on a weekend getaway to the sea, where you watch the stars on a terrace

and he prepared a really sweet speech, but he gets so nervous (his palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy, i’m sorry)

when he finally proposes you both embrace in a tight hug and hold onto each other for a long time

Guests: 50, a rather small wedding with your friends and family

Outfit: more of a classic look with a dark suit, but touches of color

Wedding ring: silver with a sapphire or rose quartz

Photography

you would hire a photographer for a shoot, but the shoot itself wouldn’t take up a lot of time, because you would rather enjoy the wedding itself

Jongho would film the ceremony and your friends and family all take photos, so you get a ton of pictures together

there would be a rose wall to take pictures infront of

there are pictures of you everywhere, because you wanted to express your lovestory in the wedding venue

Venue

an old building with a garden and lots of fairy lights

Flowers: lilac flowers

Colors of the decoration:  pale colors with touches of pink and blue

Music: a singer for   the ceremony and a band for the party, which would cover your favorite songs

Yeosang would also like to sing a song for you (so he can finally get his lines) or a duet

On the wedding day

Yeosang would be giggly, nervous and excited

on one hand he can’t wait to finally marry you, but he is more nervous than he ever was on stage

gets really flustered when he sees you (and probally laughs in his hand, because he can’t contain his excitement)

almost gets choked up while saying his vows

when it’s finally time to say yes, he is about to cry and brings out the tiniest yes you ever heard in his adorable voice and it’s so cute

after the ceremony he is almost back to normal, clings to you the whole day and just enjoys himself

when you see him dancing with a flower girl, you can imagine him being such a sweet dad (but that’s for another day, cause I’m already devastated)

[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (viii.)

A/n: please don't hate me for this. I swear it'll get better.

Summary: noticable tension and... sick days?

Warnings: do I even need to warn about angst anymore? I mean, its me we're talking about. Of course it's angst. But also not really.

Word count: 2.2k

***

We're never alone anymore. Haven't been in weeks. It's strictly professional, like it was always supposed to be. But it's killing me slowly not talking anymore. That was always the fun part of this, but I not only ruined any future prospect of us bring linked romantically, but now we're barely even friends. That's what hurts more than anything. Because the things I couldn't tell Connor were things I could tell Shawn and he'd be more than willing to listen to me go on and on about whatever. And Connor listens, of course he does, but he's bluntly honest and sometimes a little overly judgemental. He's always been the rational one in our friendship, while I go and mostly make things a bigger deal than they need to be. I love having him, but I miss how easy it was with Shawn. But every time I think I've built up the courage to talk to him about that night, talk to him about us, I chicken out at the last second.

We're all lounging around the green room, a few of the band members playing their imaginary instruments, going through the chords they've played at least a hundred times before just to be super sure they have it. I snap a photo or two of Shawn fiddling with his inears. They're a little tangled with the collar of his shirt and I have half a mind to go over and help him. So I do, without thinking about it, somehow forgetting that we haven't talked in weeks. That we haven't been this close to each other in weeks. That he probably doesn't even want me anywhere near him after I just left him without warning - like so many girls before me have done. (I thought they were idiots to leave this precious man alone after only a night with him. They were, but somehow I'm one too, now.) Which is probably why his body tenses ever so slightly when he feels my fingers on the back of his neck, untangling the tiny wires.

"Sorry," I say so low I think he can't possibly hear me.

But he mumbles out a soft "thanks" and looks down at himself, debating with himself whether or not he should unbutton his shirt a little more, exposing the black undershirt and the chest hair that peaks through that top. He buttons and unbuttons the same button three times while I stay standing there.

"Leave it unbuttoned," I mutter. "The fans go crazy for it."

He doesn't respond, only looks in the full length mirror that is currently reflecting his tall frame and my shorter one, and finally unbuttoned the shirt one more time, leaving it at that with a single pop of his collar.

My breath catches as I remember leaving marks all up and down his torso, more toward his waist though, knowing just how big the story would be if the fans saw hickeys around his chest and neck. That didn't stop him from leaving them all across me though. I swallow harshly, pushing the thought away as I walk to the other side of the room where my camera bag is sitting. I take out one of my other lenses, trying to decide which one I want more. The one I was using now took the greatest portraits, but the other caught the details in the background, with its wider angle. I'm mulling it over when I the light beside me shifts a little.

I turn my head to see Mike smiling warmly at me. "Hey," I say, switching out the lenses.

"Hey." He just stands there while I take a few test shots around the room.

"Need something?" I ask when he still hasn't said anything.

"Do you have a second to talk?"

I shrug, "Sure. What's up?"

"No, not here. Follow me?"

I furrow my brows but promptly follow anyway. We stand just outside the dressing room, but far enough from the door that you couldn't hear us unless you were literally standing in the doorway - or you know, if there wasn't nearly 50,000 people screaming lyrics back to Shawn's opening act. "Mike, is everything okay?"

"That's what I was just about to ask you."

"What?"

"You look like you need to talk to somebody. And the guys and I have noticed a little bit of… I don't know, tension between you and Shawn lately."

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to think of anything to explain why he's noticed and why we're being weird. "It's nothing. We got in a fight. It was stupid."

"Well, it can't be that stupid if it has you guys avoiding each other for three weeks. Did something happen?"

"Mike," I plead, not wanting to tell him the intimate details of my one night with Shawn. "Look, don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll be back to normal in a few days." If I could stop being so goddamn terrified of talking to him. "We're just both too stubborn for our own good."

"Are you sure? Because you can tell me. I'm not gonna go out and tell anyone. I'm just worried about you."

I shake my head, "No. Really, we're fine."

"Just a lover's spat, right?" He questions with a smirk.

I let out a nervous laugh, "something like that, I guess."

"Hey," he pats my shoulder sympathetically, "It'll get better. You guys will make up. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, thanks."

"And I mean, you're bound to have a few fights here and there. It's hard being with a person twenty-four/seven for months on end. Especially a significant other. And when the relationship is still so new?" He shakes his head, "But you guys will come out of it even stronger. I can tell just by the way you look at each other."

I furrow my brows, mostly because he thinks we're together. "How do we look at each other?" I ask timidly.

"Like you're the only two in the room." With a chuckle he adds, "sometimes it seems like you want nothing more than for that to be true."

I swallow hard because right now more than ever, I do wish it was true.

---

Shawn literally goes on in less than five minutes, and even though I've been there for dozens of shows already, I feel suddenly really nervous, nauseous actually. Like extremely nauseous. The whole crew is walking toward the stage, but I'm steps behind them all, growing slower by the second as my stomach turns over again and again. We are just passing the bathrooms when I run into the women's room, barely making it into a stall in time to spill my guts. I cough a few times, finally standing up. I try to be as quick as possible because the crowd is getting louder and I can hear Mike on the drums. I rinse my mouth out, grab my camera from the sink and book it to the main stage, practically running into Andrew on the way.

"Where were you?" He asks, but he doesn't seem mad, more concerned. He definitely noticed how pale I looked, just like I noticed in the terrible bathroom lighting. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I mumble. "Just forgot my extra memory card. But we're good."

"Y/n," he catches my arm before I can walk away. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm good," I nod and he finally lets me go, just in time to catch Shawn walking onto the stage, the crowd becoming deafening.

"Where were you?" Connor yells in my ear after the first song is over.

"I got sick," I say back, bringing my camera up to my eyes.

"Again?"

I shrug. No, this isn't the first time today that I've thrown up. It's actually the third, but the only person who knows that is Connor, and that's because he was with me when it happened the first two times. I don't think much of it, even though I probably should. I don't get sick often, rarely ever, if I'm being honest. And I especially don't get sick to the point where I'm throwing up. I'm assuming it's just my body's way of finally rejecting all the steady travel I've been doing.

Different time zones every other day, different food, different weather - one day it's hot, the next I need three jackets to provide me even the slightest amount warmth. It's got to be that. There's nothing else I could possibly think of that would have me feeling this sick. Except for one thing…

Please god, don't let it be that. Let it be absolutely anything else in the world but that.

---

Connor follows me to my room after the show and I plop against the cool pillows without any thought at all. But I feel his eyes on my aching body.

"What?" I groan, sparing him a glance through my hooded eyes.

"You've gotten sick a lot today."

I hum, "I'm fine. It's probably just a stomach bug."

"Could be that," he nods and sits down next to me. "Or it could be something else."

My body stiffens at the thought. "Connor-"

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"

I let out a broken sob, covering my face. "I don't know."

"Y/n… how could you be so careless?"

"I wasn't! We were safe!" I say, removing my hands from my face dramatically.

"Clearly not safe enough if you might be pregnant."

"Stop saying that. I'm not!"

"You don't know that, though. That's the problem. That you don't know. This could be really bad for you, and Shawn! Your careers are literally at their peaks. You can't have a baby right now."

"You think I don't know that? You think I want to raise a baby on my own at twenty-one?"

He frowns, "what makes you think you'd raise the baby alone?"

I only glare at him. "Really? A twenty-two year old rockstar, who can literally have any girl in the fucking world, is going to settle for his knocked up tour photographer. Think about that for a minute, Con. That type of thing doesn't happen in real life. That's movie stuff."

"He'd be a great dad, you know." He says it softly, mostly to himself.

"I know," I sigh. "But not now. I can't spring this on him now. Especially not when we haven't really spoken to each other in weeks."

"You have to tell him."

"Not if there's nothing to tell. And why are you all of a sudden on his side? Every chance you get you're telling me that he and I can't be more than friends. What's this 'he'd be a good dad. You have to tell him'?"

He just shrugs, "despite everything that I tell you, I really do like Shawn as a person. I tell you all these things because I don't want to see you get hurt. He's gone so much and whether you like to admit it or not, you need attention."

I gape at him and slap his arm, "I'm not an attention whore!"

"That's not what I mean," he laughs. "I just mean, with him being gone like 10 months out of the year, you're not gonna get the attention that's needed in a relationship. You'll feel left out. He'll feel bad for not being with you more. You'll both be miserable. And I'd hate for that to be the case."

"And what would that mean for… this hypothetical baby?" I ask, putting my hand on my stomach.

It takes him a while to say anything, "I think he'd stop for that. I think he would do everything he could to be a part of the baby's life. But a girlfriend is a different priority than a baby is, y/n. He doesn't have to stop for a girlfriend. But he would for a baby. Especially because you know he wants kids. He wants to give them the world and he'll stop at nothing until he does just that."

I don't say it, but I know he'd do the same for a girlfriend. Maybe not stop touring, but I have first hand experience on what he would be like as a boyfriend. Attentive and sweet and cautious and aware. He does all the things Connor says he won't be able to, and that's what makes it so hard for me to back away from this.

---

After another agonizingly long hour of discussing what I should or shouldn't do, Connor finally leaves the room. I let out a deep breath and close my eyes, leaning against the door. This whole night was too much, first with Mike and then Connor. Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't girls claim to have guy friends because there's less drama?

My phone buzzes from my nightstand where I put it to charge only minutes ago. I roll my eyes, still standing at the door, and I wait there for a good three minutes before I make my way over.

Shawn's name lights up my screen and my heart falls into my stomach. I gulp as I read the text over and over at least three times.

We need to talk

I pray to God that it's not as bad as I'm anticipating. But then I remember what I might have to tell him and I know it will be.

Yeah we do. My room, 10 minutes?

How about 5?

Ok…

And just as I throw my phone down on the bed, another wave of nausea hits me. Jesus Christ, please don't let me be pregnant.

***

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[vangoghpoets]

status | kiego takami x reader

a/n: hello! this is chapter two of my hawks multi part fic. i hope you guys are liking it so far! also, ruisu is an oc inspired by my lovely bb @lilacskyura

previously: chapter one 

pairing: kiego (hawks) takami x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k 

warnings: cursing, sexual innuendos

links: playlist | wattpad

taglist: @mixfi​ @lilacskyura​ @katsuhoee​ @star-mum​ @moonlightinsanity​ @domhoni

                                   ⫷ chapter two: amateur ⫸

"So, we have a special someone who is joining us for the campaign!"

Y/N sat still with her eyes closed while the makeup artist worked on her. It was Friday, the day of the Chanel cologne campaign.

"So its a collaboration?"

Ruisu asked, looking up from her phone. Her black hair was tied back, accentuating her freckled cheekbones. If Ruisu wanted to, she could probably become a model too. However, with her analysis quirk and impeccable sense or organization, she found joy being an assistant, especially to as someone as kind as Y/N.

"Yes, he should be here shortly," The campaign directed replied.

"I should've known, it is a cologne campaign after all," Y/N mumbled while the makeup artist applied the false lashes to her lids.

"He's probably super hot," Ruisu giggled, crossing her legs and turning to Y/N. She simply rolled her eyes in response, sitting up and sipping from her iced tea.

"You know I don't like mixing my love life with work."

"What love life?" Ruisu questioned with a cocked brow. Y/N scoffed and placed her hand on her chest as if she was in agony.

"Ouch Ru, sorry I haven't found anyone up to my standards."

The hairstylist came in and greeted Y/N before getting to work.

"I just think you should put your self out there."

"I'm basically on every other billboard in Japan, how much more out there can you get?"

"I don't know!" Ruisu sighed. "I guess you're just intimidating."

Y/N took a sip from her tea and smirked.

"Good."

The stylist proceeded to brush Y/N's hair and add large amounts of gel to it, in order to attempt a "slick wet" look.

The shoot was supposed to give the look of a sensual shower scene. Glass panels, mirrors, blue lighting, and a steam machine were all prepped. The only thing that was left was semi-nude Y/N and the elusive special guest.

Once the stylist finished with her hair, Y/N stood up, tightening her robe and tossed her empty teacup in the garbage.

"He's here!" The director exclaimed and called Y/N over, Ruisu following.

Walking in and standing next to the director was a tall, tan, and fit blonde. Each step he took radiated with confidence. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. She recognized him right away, and to say she was angry was an understatement.

"Y/N, this is the Winged Hero Hawks!"

Hawks stepped towards you and extended his hand.

"Please, just call me Keigo," He said, his voice like velvet.

Y/N pursed her lips and shook his hand politely.

"I don't work with amateurs so I hope you can keep up," She said tartly, turning on her heel and walking towards the set. Ruisu sighed and faced Keigo.

"Sorry about her, she's not too fond of heroes."

"I can tell," He replied with a slight chuckle.

Kiego was ushered to a change. The staff dressed him in tan boxers that matched his skin, the idea was to look as nude as possible. They began to apply makeup and the artists gushed at having the no. 2 hero in their presence.

Y/N eyed him and scoffed. Ruisu walked over and handed her a bottle of water. Y/N cracked it open and drank.

"You doing okay?"

"Not really," She mumbled while closing the bottle. It wasn't known amongst the media but anyone who was close to Y/N knew she had a deep-seated hatred for heroes.

When Y/N was 12, her little brother drowned at the beach. At the time, She had a broken ankle from soccer and was left with no option other than to call for help. She was sobbing and screaming, unable to help her brother. She was quirkless after all. No heroes came. Eventually, the police came, but it was too late, he had already passed. Y/N constantly beat herself up about the death of her brother. He was only 7 and was gone so quickly. As she got older, she placed more and more of the blame on heroes. No one saved him when she needed their help the most. She had no adults to help her either, her and her brother were adopted by a woman who was well on in her years. By the time Y/N was 18, her adoptive mother was already 74. Ruisu and her mother were the only people she had. Despite her fame, she was incredibly lonely.

Kiego eyed Y/N, who was ranting to Ruisu, while the stylist did his hair. Sure he had seen her on the television, news, practically every billboard in Japan, but he had never truly seen her. He would be lying if he said he wasn't excited when he was told he would be working with her. It appeared to be true what all sources had said about her. She was serious, intimidating, and meant business. But most of all, she was devilishly attractive. Being one of the top models across the globe would make that obvious, but to Keigo the shoots and photographs didn't capture how truly beautiful she looked. It would be safe to say that she was his celebrity crush. He watched as the makeup artist stepped towards her and touched up her skin. She spoke to the staff so kindly and thanked them for every little thing. She was known for being a delight on set but always willing to do her best. That kind of ambition was something Kiego admired. A lot.

"You're all set," the stylist told Kiego. He stood up and walked towards the set. The makeup artist walked over and began to apply oil to his body.

"Oh heh, that's kinda cold," He mumbled. He had done several photoshoots in the past, but nothing as sensual as this. He would be the face of this cologne, a lot was riding on his shoulders- er, wings.

Y/N glared at him and turned to Ruisu.

"This is exactly why I don't like amateurs."

"Oh c'mon be nice-"

"Does it look like I want to be fucking nice right now? They're making me shoot with this moron of a hero-"

Ruisu raised her brow and gestured to the water bottle in Y/N's hand. She sighed and rolled her eyes, opening the bottle back up and chugging.

"Just, be professional. You don't really want hero hater publicized around the world."

Y/N nodded and placed the cap back on.

"I know, I know."

"Okay, everyone! We start shooting in 5."

"Thank you 5!" The staff, Ruisu, and Y/N cheered. She handed Ruisu the water bottle and slipped off her robe. Underneath was a sheer tan two-piece, giving the slight illusion that she was in the nude. Keigo's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at the sight. She turned to face him.

"You ready?"

Keigo nodded, his usual cocky confidence coming back.

"Of course."

The two stepped onto the set. The photographer came forwards to give his instructions.

"Okay so we want seduction, we want sex, steamy, but make it gorgeous. Yes? Yes."

Kiego nodded slowly, the photographer's French accent making it difficult to understand what he was inferring.

The photographer began to pose the two models. He had Y/N press her hands and chest against a glass panel. He then had Kiego press his chest against her back. He tried his best to hide his blush.

One of the staff members turned on a speaker, playing music to add to the atmosphere of the set. The lights were dimmed and the blue lights were amplified.

"And, ACTION!"

The photographer began shooting, Y/N adjusting her poses slightly. To say she was a professional was an understatement. Behind the camera, she was pure art.

"C'mon Hawks get in there! She won't bite!"

Kiego nodded and placed an arm above her, giving a dominating effect. Y/N posed by resting her head on his chest, her lips parting slightly.

'If this is what she looks like posing, I wonder how she looks-'

"HAWKS! FOCUS! Give me more sex, more arousal! Be the alpha!"

Returning from his daze, he nodded.

"Gladly," He growled lowly.

He lowered his head and bit down on her neck, causing Y/N to gasp from shock.

"YES YES!" The photographer cheered, snapping pictures rapidly. "You own her Hawks! Your scent drives her crazy!"

Y/N tried to stay focused and ignore the misogynistic chants from the photographer. She continued to pose while Keigo became more self-assured, running his hands along the curves of her body. He was beyond happy to be paid to lay his hands all over her.

"Y/N turn! We need a new angle."

She nodded and turned to the side, giving a profile of her curves. Kiego was mesmerized, she was glowing under the blue lighting. She made it all look so easy. Y/N raised her hand to cup his cheek, posing and pressing her lips against the side of his mouth.

"YES YES YES!" The photographer cheered.

After 30 more minutes of posing, the photographer gave them a break. Ruisu tossed Y/N her water bottle as she stepped off the set.

"Hey, do you want to grab drinks after this-"

Kiego's proposal was stopped by Y/N holding up her finger as she drank from her bottle. She let out a cool "ah" and closed the water bottle.

"No." She answered curtly.

[marymccartneyphotos]

Mary: Queen of Shots

Mandarin Oriential Issue 14; 2010

From her landscapes to portraits, Mary McCartney’s natural talent shines through. Here she tells MO Editor Zoë Manzi what it’s like to be the photographer behind Mandarin Oriental’s Fan Campaign

You were a picture editor before you started taking photographs. Is that right?

Yes, I didn’t really know what to do after I left school, but I knew I was interested in photography, so I got a job at a music book company as a picture researcher. It was nice because I went to all the picture libraries as well as meeting certain photographers who had taken photos of specific bands, and got to look at their archives. So that was interesting and it kind of set me thinking. But still, even then, I didn’t think I could be a professional photographer.

Was it the technical side…?

It was the technical side and, I don’t know, it just didn’t seem like a proper job to me at that point. You know, it was a nice thing to do as a hobby, but I couldn’t do it as a career. Then I got my first job. That was for Frank magazine. Stella [McCartney, her sister] had just started her first big design job at Chloé, and I was asked to go to Paris and do a diary and photograph her first collection.

That was an inspired commission…

It was really good fun because I got to spend time with Stella and I learned a lot about how a collection is put together just by being there, snapping fittings and going out with everyone at night. You know, it clicked with me because it’s what I like to do within my photography: meet people and get into their world and see what they’re doing. You get to find out what goes on behind the scenes. It made me appreciate how much work goes into designing, how much time it takes, and how much dedication it requires. I decided to do a course to learn the mechanics of the camera and that gave me more confidence. From then on, it was just about taking pictures, finding my style and the kind of work I wanted to do.

Did you develop an eye for taking pictures, or was it instinctual?

I think I had that already, but rather than developing an eye it’s about having confidence in my ability and style. Everyone’s different, but with my first paid commission, for example, I would hire loads of equipment and do things I wouldn’t usually do, but I was like, ‘I’m being paid, I’ve got to be professional and organised.’ But I wouldn’t be so happy with the photos because they weren’t my kind of pictures – I was over-compensating. So now I don’t do that. I know what I want to get and if people book me, it’s because they want something that is my style. What I do has probably taken me this long to achieve. You know, some people know instantly what they want to do – for me, it just took longer.

And how did your working relationship with Mandarin Oriental Hotel Group come about?

It was a dream job, really. I got a phone call from my agent saying that Mandarin Oriental’s ad agency wanted me to come in for a ‘chemistry’ meeting, which was really funny but actually makes a lot of sense. I went to Hong Kong to meet the Chief Executive. What was great about Mandarin Oriental was that they wanted me to go to different hotels to get a feel for the brand. At first I thought that was a bit odd – why do they want me to? But it worked well because it made me respect them and understand what it is they’re doing, and to experience the friendliness of the staff… There’s a certain style which I probably wouldn’t have appreciated if I hadn’t gone to several of the hotels.

Do you have a favourite Mandarin Oriental hotel so far?

I love Mandarin Oriental, New York. I love coming out and having that view of Central Park but, then, I’d like to revisit Mandarin Oriental, Bangkok. I was only there for one night and I was on my own. I had a butler and didn’t get to utilise the service properly, so I’d like to go back and experience butler service! And the room was practically bigger than my flat at the time, so I didn’t fully get to be fabulous during that stay.

What was it like following in the footsteps of the late Patrick Lichfield [Mandarin Oriental Hotel Group’s first photographer of Fans]?

It was a little bit daunting because he was such an established photographer, but we have similarities in that he also liked to make his subjects quite relaxed. I thought it was good of Mandarin Oriental to pick a female photographer because it gives a different slant and a slightly different feel. Of course, it was very sad, but nice because he had a great relationship with Mandarin Oriental and that made me feel encouraged. He was with them for years and obviously was a big fan, so it made me more relaxed going in. I didn’t feel defensive. I knew that they respect their photographers and there’s a long-term collaboration.

So, how do you go about working on a Campaign with a new Fan?

First, I look at the person and do some research. Then I work directly with them because it needs to be something personal and I want them to be relaxed. Obviously, the whole Campaign is based around it being a place or an image that encapsulates the Fan but, also, I’m quite aware that it’s one image on a page: so how do we get something that will stop you on the page as you’re flicking through? With [singer] Sa Dingding, I tried to think a bit more about movement and materials and we’ve done a really nice shot which is quite fresh. She’s very dynamic, so I’ve tried to capture that. What was great about her was that she started off very reserved. She was dressed in traditional Tibetan materials – covered in fabrics – and as she was getting undressed there were all these different layers coming off and getting more and more funky, like, little beetle-patterned leggings and hearts. She’s an interesting character and she moves well. I wanted to do something with material, to get that Eastern feel. Sa Dingding really liked to perform in front of the camera and Hélène Grimaud, who we just did in Switzerland, was quite different, but she has an amazing smile and a beautiful face. Hélène is a classical pianist, so we did a nice, classic piano shot, which I tried to mess up a bit by having flowers on the piano rather than in a vase, and sheet music spread around a bit. Then I did another one, which is more clean. Hélène isn’t so naturally comfortable in front of the camera. The challenge was to make her relax and enjoy the shoot. And I think she did. I reassured her that ‘wardrobe’ meant we bring clothes and use the sitter’s clothes as well. The aim of the Campaign is that it’s about that person, it’s not a whole new makeover. It has to be something that they would wear, like Liam Neeson wore his own suit. But we’ll take some extra bits and bobs that they may even want to take home, so we try to add to their own look. It’s quite fun. If I were having my picture taken, I’d quite like someone to give me some clothes to try on!

So you might do two different versions…

We do two versions, one is more classic and one to take the sitter out of their comfort zone. The photography needs to progress visually because it isn’t a new photographer each time, so I need to push the boundaries a little bit more. It still has to be quite chic and clean for Mandarin Oriental, and I understand that.

And what goes on behind the scenes at the Fan shoots?

[Laughs] Do you want the real story? Well, I generally work with quite a small team. There are two ways I like to work: if it’s a production, I usually have a digital operator and an assistant and a producer. Otherwise, it’s me and a camera and a bag of film.

So you shoot on film?

I don’t shoot the Campaign on film any more because I like to get the edit down with the sitter, which is possible on screen, and I’ve got a great digital operator who does the calibration and, really, I did an exhibition last year and one of the pictures was digital and you couldn’t actually see the difference. I was like, ‘Pick which one in the room was digital,’ and no one could pick it out. I still love film because the quality of it and the depth of field is quite different, but when digital is done properly and is of a high quality, it’s pretty amazing. I like them both for different things.

Do the Fans give feedback during the shoot?

I do get feedback from them on the day. Generally, they won’t say they don’t want to do something: I would have prediscussed it with them, so they won’t get into that situation. For something like the Mandarin Oriental shoot, I’ll get the sitter to come over and I’ll do an edit, and I’ll show them and say this is the way I’m going… Then if there’s something they hate, because everyone’s got something they hate about themselves – ‘I don’t like my face at that angle’, for example – then I’ll try and work to make them feel comfortable and to get something I’m happy with. So it’s a real collaboration.

Does the travel element enhance or complicate matters?

It’s quite fun. We’re going to China to take pictures of Harry Connick Jr and it’s a bit of an unknown quantity. I can plan the shoot as much as I can, but when I get out there the whole plan will probably change. But I quite like that.

Do you shoot in the hotels?

This time we’re shooting in Mandarin Oriental, Sanya, but we don’t usually shoot at the hotels. That’s just been the history of the Campaign, but I think it’s quite nice to shoot at the hotels more and more. When it began, it was all about the subject and picking their own perfect place, but now the two are marrying together because Mandarin Oriental are doing more resort hotels, which has opened things up for outdoor locations. Before it was all about city hotels. I try to get as many exterior shots as I can, so fingers crossed for the weather!

Tell us about your book.

I’m doing a book, my first one, with Thames & Hudson [titled From Where I Stand] which is coming out in mid-October. I always take pictures, but I take them, look at them, then file them away. Last year I thought, actually, it’s time to do a book and go back and revisit all my contact sheets, which is quite daunting because there are so many pictures – and how do you structure it? So it became more of a personal structure: the book starts off quite quietly and landscapey and then goes into portraits and then comes back out quite quietly as well. Hopefully, it sort of says something about my character and what I’m interested in.

Was that the idea?

Yeah, keep it quite personal and not too eclectic. Having said that, it is quite eclectic because I’m always snapping different things.

What inspires you – do you always have a camera with you?

I like just wandering and watching people. There are moments, if I’m at an event, or I’m going somewhere, or at a shoot… Often when someone is not performing for the camera is when something interesting happens and I hate missing those moments.

In terms of your peers, whose work do you admire?

I suppose I like certain projects that people do. I love that Richard Billingham book, Ray’s a Laugh. I love Gursky and more epic work, probably things that I wouldn’t do myself. I mean, I like David LaChapelle. I think they’re all quite mad and I’d never do that kind of photography and I wouldn’t necessarily put it up on my wall. I suppose I like flicking through books with new work and then, for my home, I like vintage black and white, which is what inspired me in the first place.

What do you like about vintage photographs?

I just love that old-fashioned black-and-white quality and I like the historic feel behind them. I went to see a Berenice Abbott exhibition a few years ago and I came out just totally wanting to take pictures of buildings and façades. Those kind of things, that energy… I think there weren’t so many people taking photographs then, and their characters really came across.

Yes, and the women photographers…

Diane Arbus. I love Diane Arbus. So I suppose her and Lartigue are among my definite favourites, but some of his best photographs were taken when he was, like, nine. It’s disconcerting!

How do you see your work evolving in the future?

I suppose doing more personal projects. Getting into different situations and spending a few weeks or months with certain subjects is something I’d like to do, so you can get more in-depth.

And does that always result in an exhibition?

It doesn’t, no, that’s not necessarily the way I work. But I probably would do it with that in mind and then do the project and then from there edit and, yeah, the natural thing is the exhibition and a book.

And who or what would you most like to photograph?

You know what? Today, I was jogging around with my dog and thinking I would quite like to photograph Eminem. I’ve been listening to him a lot recently. I think he’s so bright and a bit scary and quite an intense character. It would be a real challenge to get him in front of the camera because he looks quite guarded as well. He’s sort of soft and angry and quite interesting, and I’d like to watch him for a while. He’s been through so much and I really find it quite intriguing listening to his music. And he seems quite real: he doesn’t put on a veneer – what you see is what you get. He’d be interesting and challenging