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dailyupdatestoday · 2 years ago

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Tips to get the Perfect Headshot Photograph for your Business Portfolio in 2022

As an entrepreneur or a business executive, you might find the need to have a professional-looking business headshot to show on your site, in industry publications you add to, or to send to press outlets that interview you. A great business headshot can assist with giving a human face to your business and presenting your brand in a positive light.

Getting a professional touch to photograph headshots can cost a large amount of money. Yet, there's no reason to reach for your wallet because with a bit of information and practice, you'll be taking photographs that seems like you’re a pro in no time.

The following are some business headshot tips to help you with getting the perfect tips to assist you with achieving your business objectives.

Business Headshot Tips

Match It to Your Brand

Generally speaking, the objective of your business headshot should be to put a face to your image. This truly intends that there isn't really a right and wrong method for introducing yourself. It basically relies upon your brand image. For example, a legal advisor or lawyer could prefer an exceptionally professional image with a suit and plain background, while a creative entrepreneur could be more easygoing, casual and fun with their headshot.

Use Natural or Professional Lighting

As any photographer will tell you, having proper lighting is essential for any great picture. When it comes to taking portrait photographs, you'll need to either have regular light from windows on multiple ends of the room or a professional lighting setup.

Hire a Professional

Another absolute must for a great headshot is a professional photographer like Schmittat Photography, who can assist you with transforming your headshot vision into a reality. It might be tempting to save a couple of bucks by basically having a friend snap a photo on your phone, yet the quality of a professional picture will show and help your brand with establishing a positive impression.

Keep the Backdrop Simple

The background can also have a major effect on how the final photograph ends up. There are various choices to consider, from plain white to an office setting. Simply ensure that the backdrop doesn't divert from the main focal point of the image — you.

Incorporate Props If They Match Your Brand

Now again, you could incorporate a few things that have something to do with your business, similar to a computer, desk or camera. Yet, ensure those things aren't diverting and possibly include them if they really add something essential to the image.

Choose Basic Hair and Makeup

One of the most outstanding business headshot tips is while styling your hair and makeup for photos, simple is best. If you layer on tons of loads of makeup, that caked on foundation might appear in photographs. Also, for your hair, try to brush and style it, yet don't stress over styling any fancy updos that will not necessarily show up in a single photo anyway.

Keep a Mirror on Hand

It's always a smart idea to keep a mirror with you so you can rapidly check your hair, cosmetics and apparel before you have your photograph taken. That way you will not need to hold on to get your confirmations back before realizing you have a stray hair standing up or a badly crumpled collar.

Avoid Major Trends

As far as we are discussing your dress, hair and cosmetics, various professional photographers will suggest you avoid ultra-trendy things. Regardless of whether you believe that a specific hairdo or designed top will look extraordinary at this moment, it could make your photograph look dated in just a year or two.

Try not to Get a Haircut Right Before

While it might sound to be a good idea to have a new hairstyle or cut just before you get new photographs taken, experts truly advise against it. Even for major events like weddings, photographers say that you should get a trim at least seven days prior so you can become used to the new length. Also, if you're getting an absolutely new hairstyle, wait for three weeks or more before getting photographs taken so your hair can grow a little and look more natural. This additionally offers you the chance to make adjustments if you end up not loving the new hairdo.

Dress How You Would When Meeting a New Client

You should also take care to introduce yourself in a positive light as far as the manner in which you dress. This can vary depending upon the brand. A good guideline should be to consider the way in which you'd need to introduce yourself to another client and then dress accordingly.

Have Good Posture

Regardless of the style of photograph, great posture is crucial since it radiates professionalism and confidence. Just sit with your back straight and your shoulders back while remaining relaxed.

Relax

You don't have to look totally stiff and exhausting in your headshot. Particularly if you want that your brand should appear to be unique and full of fun, it could be helpful for you to keep the atmosphere at your photograph shoot free. Then you can take a few pictures where you have a natural smile and come up with your true character.

Get Enough Sleep the Night Before

To have a new and cheerful face in your photographs, you need to take care of yourself. Get an entire evening of rest the night before to keep away from dark under-eye circles and different features that can prompt you to look drained and uninspired in your photos.

Have Multiple Photo Shots

Whatever the style of photograph you're going for, you'll need to have a lot of options to browse at the end. If you're certain of the style, backdrops and angle for the photograph, you should also have images in both horizontal and vertical versions to fit in different platforms and mediums.

Final Words

Taking a headshot shouldn't be a tough and hectic assignment.

Even if you're taking your own headshot, you can get a professional result while acting as both photographer and subject. In fact, you have the greatest command over all parts of the picture and can take as much time as you need - so don't consider it something bad!

Simply try to relax, smile and get your face in focus. If you can do that, you're already halfway to having an awesome headshot photo.

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weddingphotographerleeds · 2 years ago

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Reasons To Choose A Professional Wedding Photographer

The best choice you'll ever make on your special day may be to hire a qualified wedding photographer. Consider taking your time and do your research to find the ideal photographer, keeping in mind the style you want your pictures to have. Request lookbooks or portfolios, and engage your photographer in the planning process.

In the end, all you'll have are pictures

If you stop to think about it, the only thing you have left of your memories are images. Most individuals consider their wedding day to be the most significant day of their lives, and photographs are what preserve the most priceless memories. You should think about hiring a professional photographer if you wish to share high-quality pictures that will last a lifetime with your friends, family, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren via printed photos or social media.

Ensure the security and quality of your photos

You may relax knowing that your priceless pictures are securely backed up and prepared for some magical editing. To operate at their best, professional photographers invest thousands of dollars in high-quality gear and accessories. By hiring the Best Photographer For Wedding, you can get high-quality wedding images that will last a lifetime.

Professionals pay attention to details

A Wedding Photographer in Leeds with experience will pay close attention to every aspect. They will not only be present for each shot, but they will also ensure that everything is always in good condition. Comparable to employing a personal assistant. They will correct your hair, your clothing, the decorations, etc. to ensure that every frame is perfect since they want to ensure that every photograph appears great.

The wedding can be enjoyed by family and friends

Think about giving your uncle the responsibility to shoot pictures at your wedding and then discovering him intoxicated at the pub. Allow your family and friends to enjoy your wedding without being pressured to take quality pictures. All of your guests will be included in the wonderful recollections of your special celebration thanks to professional Commercial Photographer.

Choose the best photographer

If you are looking for a Landscape Photographer in Yorkshire, it is important that you choose the best one. You must look for someone with experience in the kind of photography you are seeking. Make sure they have a strong online presence, meaning they have a website where you can see customer feedbacks, which will help you make your decision. Do not forget to discuss your needs and expectations and also about the rate beforehand to avoid any stress in the future.

#wedding photographer leeds #Wedding Photographer Leeds #portrait photographer west yorkshire #best photographer for wedding #pet photographer yorkshire #professional photographer west yorkshire #nature photographer yorkshire #commercial photographer in yorkshire #landscape photographer yorkshire #wedding photographer in west yorkshire #commercial photographer

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isotherealone · 2 years ago

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The 7 things I did to become a model (and you can do too)

Even if I'm petite, late or too big.

Ever since I can utter the first words out of my mouth I always wanted to do artistic and/or fashionable things. I would sit on the couch in front of the TV and watch in awe the Beauty Pageant Shows as Osmel Sousa was qualifying the models, who would win the Pageant and go on to participate and win the Miss Universe competitions.

As a little child I thought I one day will grow tall enough to take the stage and be there myself, it was clear to me: "I want to be pretty and popular in whatever stage I find myself on". However, once I grew up I just never thought about the dreams I had when I was younger. In my mind, I was not good enough for the things I thought about doing back then: I turned out just too small for most modeling agencies to even look my way.

2020 was the year in which I finally woke up from my slumber and said: "I am enough to do, just exactly whatever I want to do." (Or at least, most of it in a certain way)

How did I do it?

I started researching what types of modeling are there, which types suit me, what would I feel comfortable doing? There are several different branches I could go for where it is not required that I am tall or extremely skinny. These categories include but are not limited to: Commercial, product modeling, swimsuit or lingerie. And as I am not nearly 5'9", fashion modeling is not something I could go for (but it is of course in the modeling category) Important thing #1: Make sure to choose something you're comfortably doing.

I signed up to several different photographer/model networks to start creating my portfolio. It was the cheapest, fastest way to acquire a big amount of photos that would serve to show to other possible interested photographers. Important thing #2: Always, ALWAYS, always photoshoot with a contract! Only do shootings on the category you've chosen for yourself (don't do photoshoots you are not interested in/not comfortable with: it's a waste of time and the pictures probably won't even come out nicely if you are not feeling comfortable)

I made my digitals: Simple, clean, white background photos of me in full body, profile and portrait to add to my sedcard (blue jeans, black shirt/alternatively for swimsuit or lingerie modeling I wore a bikini, I did my hair back and wore minimal make-up) It is important to do this to let possible interested photographers or agencies know what you actually look like. Important thing #3: Update your digitals on a regular base, you are supposed to show what you look like currently (not 5 years ago)

I posted half of my portfolio in several different social media accounts on a regular base to increase my reach to not only photographers but also agencies and the general public.

Because I had researched several different agencies but did not find a suitable one for me; after having done 15 or more TFP (Trade for print) photoshoots and gathering some modeling experience I started charging independently by the hour.

Patience is a great virtue. In the end, I didn't apply for any modeling agency, but because of my consistent work I started getting offers from smaller/newer agencies that don't have a height requirement. In this matter, I've had to be very careful of what offers were coming to my table. Important thing #4: You shouldn't have to pay anything to a reputable modeling agency, instead they will be taking a percentage of your earnings. Research what percentage do agencies in your country of residency take on average, make sure the agency you're signing up for is professional, and that it has your best interests in mind.

I signed with an agency that caters to my needs and the categories I want to model in. Last but not least important thing: Do the things that make you happy. Links to start connecting with other photographers/models:

In EU:

#art #modeling #fashion #fashion photography #photography #blog post

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ushidoux · 4 years ago

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Power Struggle - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: You’re set up on a blind date with a man who might just be your match. (~5.1k words)

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, blind date, exhibitionism, public sex

A/N: Part of @cherrytenko’s CEO collab! Surprisingly this is possibly the longest fic I’ve written as a oneshot and it’s a little softer than I expected it to be but please enjoy!

---

It’s about half past 6pm when you add the final touch to your makeup, a smear of matte lipstick (Rouge Hermes #48, to be exact), to your lips.

It’s not often that you’re able to leave work early but your mother and father had called you from overseas in the late afternoon, interrupting their own third honeymoon, to remind you of your final meeting for the day -

A date.

“I know you hate these things, but just go! You might like what you see,” your mother insisted over video chat, her voice muffled by the sound of wind whipping past her as she and your father cruised along on a shaky speedboat they’d purchased just for the day. You weren’t completely sure where they were, only vaguely aware that they were somewhere around Jeju Island, and not exactly sure why they still had phone service, but you weren’t going to ask too many questions.

“No obligation!” Your father adds, just out of view and yelling slightly.

Sure, never any obligations.

As you smack your lips in the mirror to smooth out the lip color, giving yourself a brief once-over to decide whether or not you feel the need to adjust your hair or if you will wear falsies or not, you frown ever so slightly, then let out a sigh.

You hate this.

This is the third “meeting” they’ve arranged for you this month, and they’d been at this for almost six months overall by now. This search for a ‘suitable husband’ was getting stale - not to mention, time-consuming - and you weren’t sure you would be willing to appease your parents any longer.

In fact, you weren’t exactly sure you were interested in a partner anymore. The clock would hit thirty any moment now, and the math of falling in love, getting married, having kids, and still heading a successful company no longer seemed to be adding up. You didn’t know how exactly to tell your sweet parents who were the picture of domestic bliss that they’d probably have to give up on the idea of grandchildren, and consider raising puppies instead.

Regardless, for the time being, you could still bother to meet this stranger for dinner.

There’s a clasp seal envelope atop your dresser - a portfolio that had been left on your desk by your father’s assistant at the beginning of the week - that still seems entirely too formal for the process. This is matchmaking, not a job application, was the first thought that came to mind once you realized the envelope held a set of photos, a resume and an admittedly curt but formally written statement reminiscent of a cover letter.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, the signature at the bottom of the letter read in an extremely neat script. He must be particularly organized and detail-oriented.

There were two pictures, one that looked almost like a passport photo and the other much more relaxed, where he was dressed casually in a t-shirt and pressed jeans, standing with his arms crossed beside a redheaded man whose smile was wide and infectious, his arm around his neck. You wondered if he picked those photos himself.

You’d perused the first photo much more carefully because you could see more of his face. He’s quite handsome, you’d admitted, the faintest warmth in your cheeks, but he seemed awfully uptight. For one, the look on his face was very neutral, not bothering to smile. He was clean shaven and his hair was close cropped at the edges, a woody brown that paired well with serious olive eyes. You wondered if he ever laughed out loud, and what he looked like when he did.

The taxi driver is prompt and waiting outside of the high-rise in which you live by the time you make your way down the elevator. The click of your heels is loud on the tile as you make your way past the revolving doors. As you slip into the back of the car, you wonder if you’re dressed too professionally. You may have forgone the women’s pantsuit, but you’re still wearing a feminine pantsuit-esque ensemble in a creamy beige - pink would have seemed too ditzy, white would have seemed a bit too innocent (not to mention risky) and yellow too juvenile.

You’re not sure why you’re thinking so hard about this, but really years of paying attention to your appearance in public, not being taken seriously because you’re pretty and young and your personality is more bubbly than bossy puts you on your guard, especially when it comes to first impressions.

The location appears to be an upscale sushi restaurant, the type that you have to call ahead for months to get a reservation unless you have some kind of special arrangement with the owner. A staff member checks you in and brings you to the back to a private room, and as you pass through the dimly lit hallway, clutching your purse a little too securely, a scene from a yakuza movie comes to mind.

“Your room, madam,” the young man nods and motions you to enter a room that is brightly lit enough that it is almost blinding, large and round as though you were in a fishbowl yourself. You look up and notice that even the ceiling is curved. Elaborate paintings hang off the wall.

He’s not here.

You glance at the attendant and he raises his eyebrows as though he is expecting you to say something. You must look surprised, and continue to look so as you remove your shoes to sit at one of the thin mattresses set before the low table.

You wish you’d worn stockings perhaps, tucking your bare feet beneath you in a casual seiza position. You can’t recall the last time you’ve been this traditional/formal, and the thought of a man you barely know already knowing what your feet look like bare bothers you just a bit.

The attendant pours water and then tea for two wordlessly and slips out of the room.

Your heart pounds once you’re finally alone. Why is this so intense?

You fidget nervously with the thin silver necklace you are wearing, looking for a menu. There is none so far. Just square plates, both chopsticks and forks (odd for sushi, you think), and a steaming cup of tea set right next to a sweltering crystal glass of ice cold water. Opposites.

For a fleeting moment, you actually wonder for once if this man will like you.

“My apologies, Ms. ___.”

You’re startled by a rich voice, a tiny gasp revealing that you’re more spooked than you realize, and your eyes shift towards the direction of the sound to see what looks like your date finally arriving in a hurry.

You instinctively readjust yourself onto your knees to look formal, then realize you should probably stand instead, but before you can get up he waves you to sit back down, now settling down himself across from you.

“I had intended to arrive early but quite a few things happened at the company to make that unfeasible.”

He said this while removing a suit jacket in a way that was in no way intended to be sexy, not at all, then let out what sounded like a single, semi-nervous chuckle.

Wordlessly, you replied with a nod, transfixed as you compared photography to reality. The photos didn’t do him justice, not at all. The suit jacket was picked up quickly by a waiter who you had forgotten was still in the room.

Ushijima extended an arm to you across the table, intending to shake your hand.

“Did you wait long?” He asks as you shakily take his hand for a handshake that consumes your hand almost entirely in his large one.

You shake your head, then embarrassed when you realize you aren’t using your voice, and add, “No, I didn’t wait long...”

“Are you hungry?” He replies, quickly. Your instinct is to say no, no you didn’t need anything, especially not from him, but you are pretty sure your stomach would growl loudly any minute now, and you’d only look like a fool.

Ushijima glances at the waiter, who finally hands the two of you menus.

“Please order anything you like.”

You look down, swallowing hard again, and for a moment it is difficult to focus on the unnecessarily elaborate handwriting on the menu.

Something about him already grates on your nerves and you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what. You could forgive people for being late, and you were used to people being a little forward, but something about the way he was both familiar and unfamiliar in the way he spoke to you seemed to veer into patronizing behavior.

Why wasn’t he nervous? Every man you’d sat across from in the past half a year had just a little waver in their voice when they spoke to you at some point, even those who had started off boasting their fancy degrees and their villas and their large bank accounts.

But he sits perfectly still, all broad shoulders, gently wafting cologne, and a gaze that is both disconcerting and impartial, so you don’t know what to think.

When you look up from the menu to him, his eyes are still heavily focused on you, and you can’t really fault him. There’s nothing else to look at in this room, after all.

You take this opportunity to tease him. No man has ever intimidated you before and this one is no different.

“Are you going to order anything? I barely saw you look at the menu.” Your voice is light and coquettish and it implies, all you’re doing is staring at me.

“I already know my order. I’ve been here enough times,” he replies, immune to the playfulness in your voice. You watch him roll up his sleeves as he answers, and take note of the shape of his hands as he takes a sip of tea.

Maybe you’re the one staring.

“Would you like a recommendation?” He offers as he sets the cup down.

You shake your head no, and wonder again why you’re making gestures instead of talking. He smiles as though he can read your mind.

Once the waiter takes your orders and leaves the room, you’re left in silence, facing your would-be partner. It’s a stalemate of sorts and you lose, asking the first personal question.

But you ask it semi-clinically, refusing to lose the upper hand. You’re not sure why there’s an upper hand, but there is, and it will be yours.

“I read a little about your company before arriving. You gave me quite a few details, which I appreciated,” you state, turning your head to the side politely to take a sip of tea yourself. “You’ve done very well for yourself as CEO,” you add.

His eyes don’t crinkle from the flattery. “My employees do great work at all levels so it’s only natural that there would be positive growth,” he replies matter-of-factly.

You smile politely, but this answer doesn’t give you very much information about him. He’s shifting the success away from him, you remark, however he accepts the compliment as though expected. Is this genuine humility or arrogance?

You lean very slightly forward, just enough to see if he’ll take the opportunity to glance down your blouse, as other suitors have invariably done. He doesn’t, and you proceed to ask the next question.

“What do you do outside of work?”

His eyebrows raise, and you wonder if it’s because he realizes you are pretending you didn’t read that section on his application, but he answers anyway.

“I don’t have very much free time, as you are probably aware, but I garden and paint. And of course, I like to keep fit through team sports.”

A quick look at him makes that last part quite clear. You clear your throat slightly and then it is silent again. It’s not exactly an uncomfortable silence, but it’s not comfortable either.

Just as you wonder why he isn’t asking you any questions, he suddenly speaks up.

“Pardon me if this sounds inappropriate, but you’re beautiful. Why would you need a matchmaking service?”

You’re taken aback, and while your brain is scrambling for understanding of what his intentions are, he adjusts his sitting position so that he’s cross-legged with both hands on his knees and lets out a sigh before continuing.

“You’re also accomplished and clearly articulate. I don’t imagine you’d have trouble finding a partner through more organic means.”

It seems like there are a million butterflies that suddenly inhabit the small space in the pit of your stomach. Again, you’re at a loss for words, something that is rare for someone as opinionated and cordially fierce as you.

Should you be offended? It’s almost as though he’s asking what’s wrong with you?

He asks frankly, “Why a blind date?”

You want to ask him the same question, but you hear the waiter return and you fall silent, letting the butterflies in your stomach die down.

---

“I-is this the first time - ah - you’ve done this?”

You’re no longer laid out on the tatami like you were just an hour earlier, Ushijima nibbling on your lower lip and your collarbones instead of the overpriced, high-quality fish that sat atop your table, but now laid under him, spread eagle save for the hands you use to hold on to his shoulders as he slowly and deliberately thrusts inside you.

Your voice is breathy and catches in your throat every time he moves, but you have to know. How often has he ended up like this?

The heat that fills your whole body now isn’t just from the shame of letting a stranger fondle your body in an upscale restaurant, it’s because Ushijima somehow knows exactly where and how to touch you, as though he’s always known. His fingers have traveled your body like a hiker on a well-beaten path, from the softness behind your earlobes to your squishy center and back, and now have settled into a hold that is firm yet gentle on your hips.

When he replies “no” with immense honesty, his mouth sinks into the crook of your neck and he goes just deep enough that you don’t have time to factor this new information into your impression of him.

So instead you savor the thickness that fills you and the strength that holds you close, the soft grunts that fill your ears before they get drowned out by your equally loud whimpers and moans.

---

You don’t spend the night, partially out of shame that Ushijima bedded you so quickly and partially because you have a full schedule for the next morning. The parting of ways is brief and awkward and you seem to feel it more acutely than he does.

“I enjoyed our time, Miss ___,” he offers. You’ve dressed up faster than he has so you find yourself unwittingly ogling at the expanse of his sculpted chest and the flex of his muscles as he redresses. You’re almost sad to see him cover up.

You nod and walk out of the room, trying your best to hide the fact that your legs feel far too wobbly to be walking on these heels.

---

“Miss ____?”

Your eyes widen as you realize you’ve been daydreaming through a meeting with the board of trustees and now the wrinkled old men who hated the fact that your father thrust you into leadership you “didn’t deserve” are staring at you with disgruntled expressions.

“Oh, um,” you think quickly, recalling where the presentation left off and glancing quickly at the notes you’d jotted down on a notepad before wondering why Ushijima hadn’t called or texted since you met two weeks ago.

“Um?” The most senior of the group repeats, and your stomach turns for a moment before you steel yourself. He bares his teeth every time he’s displeased with you and you get the impression of an ancient and disgruntled wolf.

You clear your throat loudly, and settle back in your chair, crossing your legs and your arms over your chest.

“I have some disagreements with the current approach, but I’ll start with the pertinent positives,” you start.

---

“Was the sex at least good?”

Your best friend from high school glances at you briefly, as you face forward on the Peloton you are riding side by side with her. She’s much less out of shape than you are given that she also is your personal trainer and thus rides hers effortlessly, taking some time to wait for you to respond.

You begrudgingly say yes.

“Wow, for once someone dropped you before you could drop them!” She teases in a sing-song voice. You would slap her on the shoulder if she was close enough and if you weren’t out of breath. It stings just a little bit that you’ve heard nothing from him nor the matchmaking company and don’t have a good response to tell your parents aside from I guess we didn’t click.

“He’s missing out, though.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you huff, and cycle faster. No hard feelings.

---

Scratch that, there were absolutely going to be hard feelings now that he was not just fucking with you but also with your livelihood.

Admittedly, it was strange that despite the fact that your companies had never crossed paths until now despite working in the same consumer domain but this was unacceptable.

You’d opened an email that had just slipped into your peripheral vision as you worked on reviewing a couple of interns’ executive summaries, only to find that Ushijima might have just royally fucked you over.

A curt email from a crucial business partner read,

We apologize but we’ve decided to move forward with Ushijima Industries instead. I understand that this is last minute, but we believe that it will be mutually beneficial to discontinue our relationship at this point in time.

Your blood boiled. What the fuck was this?

Your phone rang, one of your team leaders calling immediately and likely looking at the email at the same time you were. He apologized profusely.

“What happened?”

“It seems like they just showed up and offered twice as much as we offered them last minute.”

This bastard. Then in a moment of horror, you wondered if this was your fault, if you had blabbed a little while slightly tipsy off of sake, and revealed that you had this acquisition in the works.

Voice smaller now, you asked, “So we can’t do anything to woo them back?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just have to make sure our other deal doesn’t fall through,” the slightly frantic man answered, the sounds of keyboard keys clicking rapidly heard in the background of the call.

“Okay, thank you for your hard work,” you stated. “I’ll see what I can do,” you replied with a click.

Maybe calling someone who’d ghosted you as you drove home, fuming and irritated, wasn’t the best idea, but you needed to confront him somehow. The idea of being bested in more ways than one was too much to bear.

The phone rang once, twice, then three times, and you were getting angrier with every tone through the car speaker. You hung up in frustration.

How embarrassing.

You made it home still irritated, indulging yourself in a relaxing bath to quell your anger. By the time you had soaked for close to an hour, you were mad at yourself for reacting impulsively and now having your number in his phone as a missed call… if he recognized it anyway.

It turns out he did.

“Ms. ___, did you call me earlier? I wasn’t able to make it to the phone in time.”

His voice was even lower on the phone, a slightly gravelly quality making you wonder if he’d actually been napping or just had a smoke. You couldn’t imagine him doing either of these things.

“What kind of game are you playing, Mr. Ushijima?”

There was a bit of hesitation on the phone, and you let out a sardonic laugh once he replied, as expected, “What?”

“How did you know about that deal other than what I told you?”

He paused again, and you too, stood still, a towel wrapped around your still dripping body.

“I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he then said, carefully. “I, uh… assume you were calling about something else.”

You grit your teeth. What the fuck else? The fact that he sounded genuinely confused only served to aggravate you further.

“Did you or did you not use the information I gave you to intercept my deal with MNY?”

Finally the lightbulb went on.

“Oh, that was you. Hm.”

If you’d been talking in person, you probably would have slapped him at this point. Or at least considered it.

“I didn’t know you were our competitor in that aspect. I… probably would have reconsidered if I had known.”

“Excuse me?”

That tone of over-familiarity, patronizing… the care when you’re not supposed to care was back and you realized you regretted this phone call.

“How would it be any different? Are you implying that you’d let me win?”

“No, of course not, I…” He trailed off. “Would you like to come over to my apartment and talk? I can give you my address, I would rather talk in person.”

Why? So I can get over there and end up fucking you again?

“I respectfully decline,” you answered curtly, and hung up, tossing your phone onto your bed and letting out an aggravated sigh.

---

The next morning, you leave an early executive meeting only to find that your office had been overrun with flowers between the hours of 7 to 8 am.

There are yellow roses, stating admiration, spilling out of an oversized bouquet on your desk and a separate bouquet of light red carnations and white camellias that imply that he finds you ‘adorable’. A white card is placed in the yellow bouquet, and on it is written Ushijima’s neat script - you realize it’s from him before you even finish reading the note.

I would like to see you again. Please accept my call around 6 pm.

Respectfully,

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Your hands hover over the wastebasket in your room with the flowers in your arms, but instead you sigh, and stuff them behind you on your shelf. At least you won’t have to see them while you work, but they’re pretty. They’re clearly bought from a floral shop, but you recall that he had said he gardened in his free time.

Ushijima calls promptly at 6 pm and you let it ring twice before deciding to block his number just as he’s calling. Something about the action is satisfying.

You can’t be won over with a couple of flowers and kind words. Women aren’t as easily swayed as he may think.

---

It’s another Friday, and surprisingly you haven’t been contacted for a blind date, whether it’s by your parents or the matchmaking service they’ve subscribed you to.

Maybe they’d gotten the message after you’d been ghosted that you were tired of this game. Maybe they were giving you a break. Maybe they’d run out of potential suitors. You were surprised, but not upset.

Ushijima had truly gotten under your skin.

After blocking his call, there were no more attempts at contact for the rest of the week. The only thing left to consider was that if you ever crossed paths in your careers, you would pay him back for snatching your investor.

And snatching your dignity in the process.

It was about 4 pm and most of the employees were wrapping up their tasks for the day. You usually aimed to have everyone out by 5, especially on Friday so this was boding well.

“Hey, Madam President, are you okay with an add-on?” You hear your secretary call from outside your door.

“Oh, I mean, I guess but-”

She’s already letting Ushijima through the door.

You smile sweetly, maintaining professional behavior as best you can, while your secretary leads him to an armchair across from you, up until she exits, your expression souring the moment she closes the door.

“Mr. Ushijima, what are you doing in my office?”

He’s settled into the chair so comfortably that it feels as though you’re in his office, not your own. He’s dressed more casually than he was at the restaurant, no suit jacket, just a brown V-neck sweater over a dress shirt that almost seems too tight and a pair of chinos. He’s also wearing a pair of glasses, which is new.

You hate that he looks good.

“Apologizing and requesting your company.”

He looks at you sincerely, his hands clasped together in his lap. You narrow your eyes.

“Please leave.”

He actually frowns, and the small action actually surprises you.

“Do you actually want me to leave or are you still upset about the investor? Because if it’s that, we can make an arrangement-”

“No, I’m upset because you did that after not following up after our one night stand!” You finally blurt out, then bite your lip realizing you might have said too much.

“I… got busy.”

“Busy screwing me over?” You quip.

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture.

“I didn’t call because I thought you didn’t like me.”

You’re a little stunned by this reply, then decide you don’t believe him. What was there not to like? At least at that point he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Why would you think that?”

His hands leave his hair again and rest on his knees. You notice it seems like a default position for him.

“I’ve been referred to as ‘stiff’. It’s great at work but not great for relationships.”

Ushijima’s brutal honesty is again sending you for a loop. You raise an eyebrow, bidding him to continue. Your arms uncross and you rest your elbows on the table.

“So…?”

“So usually by the time I’ve had sex with someone, it’s all they’re after. And since you didn’t call, I assumed even the sex wasn’t good.”

You unwittingly burst into laughter. Here was this successful, attractive man with a perfect pedigree who was insecure about how good he was in bed?

His eyebrows furrow, and you recollect yourself, realizing that this is a bit cruel.

“You could have sent a text,” you murmur.

“I’m bad at starting conversations.”

You stifle another laugh. “So you just don’t?” You tease. It’s gently mocking but mostly incredulous. It seems that he’s the opposite of the confident man he appears to be.

“That’s why I got excited when you called but then you were upset.”

You purse your lips.

“I promise I didn’t intend to put you in a bad situation,” Ushijima insists.

You sigh, then offer him a small smile. “Are you normally this persistent?”

He glances at the flowers that are only partially hidden from view, which makes your face warm up bashfully, and then looks right back at you.

“No. I just like you.”

Again with the directness, a confidence that is effortless, even when he’s not confident at all.

You don’t want to melt but you do. So instead you rise and clear your desk, stuffing a few items into your handbag as you prepare to leave. He watches, unsure of what you’re up to, sitting still as you walk around towards him and place your hand lightly on his shoulder.

Your body faces the door, but you turn to the side to look at him and grin.

“I’m done with work for today. Take me out.”

---

A couple months later...

“Fuck, you’re - ah - they’re gonna know, I-” Your voice morphs into a mewl instead once his ring finger reaches just the right spot; you’re squirming as much as possible under his touch but he has you laid back on your work desk with both ankles rested on his shoulders and his weight leaning onto you to essentially keep you in place.

“Move your hands,” Ushijima whispers in a hushed tone, leaning in to kiss between your breasts as he readjusts your legs atop him. His pants are down and his cock is already up and ready, the base and swollen balls rubbing against your wet cunt that you are desperately trying to protect from his intrusion. You know there’s absolutely no way you’ll stay quiet when he’s pounding the shit out of you, he likes it entirely too rough, and the walls are thin. You don’t listen, continuing to reach for his hands to swat them away from you.

There’s a part of you that is almost certain that at the very least your secretary knows that every time Ushijima comes for a ‘meeting’, it really is just to fuck the shit out of you before you leave together for the evening, or to relax you right before you once again have to defend your dad’s establishment of you as Company President.

This isn’t a good look.

“I-I can’t…” you whine.

“You can,” he assures you.

He gently kisses your face before prying your hands out of the way and keeping them pinned up against you with one hand and guiding his trajectory with the other before sinking inside of you. You moan at the breach of your privates and he quickly presses his lips to yours to swallow the sound.

Once he’s bottomed out, he rolls his hips, and soon you start to see white once you climax, clenching and cumming around him.

“T-Toshi!” You moan his name, and he clasps a large hand around your mouth before continuing, picking up the pace as he fucks you through your orgasm. He can’t deny that he likes the fact that you’re noisy, that the fact that the heavy desk he’s fucking you against is making a squeaky noise that suggests he’s really putting some force behind these strokes, and that if anyone could see the two of you now, it could be an issue for both of your corporations. Misconduct, they would call it.

He doesn’t care and while you act like you do, you don’t really care either.

When he lets go of your wrists to use the edge of the desk as leverage and tilts backwards, you scream in pleasure, a terribly obvious sound, and it’s enough to have him tip over and spill into you with a groan. He collapses onto you and the two of you almost slip onto the floor, but don’t; you wrap your arms around him.

Your hair is disheveled and so is his, and your legs are sticky with sweat and cum. You sigh, letting him soften inside you and stroke his hair.

“You’re getting me in trouble,” you murmur, and he lets out a breathy laugh.

“We don’t really have to answer to anyone, do we?” He replies with a smirk, and pecks you one more time on the lips.

He’s right - only you two are a match for each other.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ceo!ushijima x reader #ceo collab #ushijima wakatoshi smut #ushijima smut #haikyuu smut #not sfw #fic: power struggle #mae.writing #hqintheclub

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loousir · 3 years ago

Text

[Merman] From a Distance

Popular Octomer Male x Photographer Male Reader Part One

Cassian

Warnings: Octoboy flirting

•︎☆×【Ｐｒｉｄｅ】×☆•

2 of 7 The Seven Sins Series

Masterlist | Part Two | Part Three

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

*Click*

The snap of a camera lense sounded as you took one of soon to be many pictures. The breeze blew gently, ruffling your clothes and getting some loose strands of hair in your face. Even though it was early in the morning, the coast line shops were pretty busy. You walked down the street, snapping the occasional picture here and there.

"Oh, um, excuse me!"

A shy voice called out. You turned back to see a short brunette with soft freckles littering their face. "Were you calling for me?" They nod as they stop in front of you. "Yes, s-sorry for stopping you but... Are you a photographer by chance?" They asked softly. You smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah. Need me to take pictures of something?" You asked with a small laugh which made the other smile.

"Actually, yes. Our photographer cancled last minute and we have a shoot in 10." They started to get a little frantic, trying to convince you to take photos for them but just the chance to take pictures had you hooked. "I can take them. And if we need underwater shots I can do those. The camera's Mer-tech and I was planning to do some later."

You smiled more and the other was beaming. They grabbed your hand and shook it. "You're perfect!! Thank you so much! I'll pay you double for this!" They said before pulling you towards where their photo shoot was.

"Hold on a second." You said as you readied your camera. The other looked back at you, about to ask what was wrong when you took a few pictures of them. They seemed shocked and a blush covered their face. "Sorry, we can keep going." Their blush didn't let up but they kept a hold of your hand none the less.

The photo spot was a beautiful cove cave that was one in a million. Your photographer instinct kicked in and you saw so many photo opportunities as you walked deeper into the cove's cave. "Is this where we're taking photos?" You asked as they let go of your hand. They nodded. "Yeah, have you ever worked with a Mer before?" You shook your head when they looked back at you.

"We're taking photos of a Caribbean Reef Octomer for the Mid-Human Monthly. He's gonna be on the cover page and have two dedicated to him so we need a few different pictures." Your eyes widened slightly and you nodded. 'He must be impressive then...' You thought to yourself.

A few moments had past which let you get introduced to the crew that you would be working with. A blonde pygmy satyr woman came up to you and slapped a hand on your shoulder making you jump slightly. "So you're our new camera guy." Her accent gave away that she was from the south. You nod and she has a grin on her face for a moment before getting semi-serious.

"Can I see some of your pictures." "Oh, yeah," You said pulling out your phone and opening up your "portfolio" folder. "I can also show some of the ones I took today." She scrolls through the pictures and has an impressed look on her face. "These are really well edited." She commented as you pulled up some of the pictures on your camera. "Oh they're not edited or anything yet. That's just the camera and some setting tweaks." You mumbled out mindlessly while scrolling to the cameras gallery.

She looked back up to you and you looked to her. "You got these pictures, with that camera?" You nodded and showed her some other pictures but also the best one that you took of the one who recruited you to be a stand in photographer. "I'll be damned. It really is unedited." She hands you back your phone and you close out the gallery app before turning it off and slipping it back in your pocket. "I look forward to working with you and depending how this shoot goes, working with you in the future." Your eyes widened slightly as you shook her extended hand.

"Well I sure hope it goes great then!" You said as she guided you over to the deep pool in the middle of the cove. There was a deep river/crevass that lead out to the open ocean which allowed merfolk to make their way in here as well. "Do you have a change of swim clothes in that bag?" She asked, referring to the bag over your shoulder. "Actually, yeah, I do. I was planning on going under the pier later today. Is there somewhere I can change my shorts?" She nods and motions towards a familiar nb brunette who was fiddling with some papers. "Dakota can take you over to our temp makeup room. It'll give you some privacy to change."

You nodded and thanked her before walking over to the other who you now knew as Dakota. They looked up to you when they heard your footsteps crunching against the gravely ground. "Oh, um, hi." They still seemed nervous from when you took their picture. "Could you show me where your makeup room is? I'm gonna change so I can take pictures." They blushed softly and nodded, leading you over to a curtained, box like structure. "I'll wait outside so no one comes in." They said softly as you stepped into the box.

"Thank you, Datoka." You said as you disappeared behind the curtains. After a few minutes you re-emerged and walked over to Dakota. "Could I also ask you to watch my stuff?" They looked up to you and nodded. You bowed slightly out of habit and thanked them before going over to the director. "I'm ready when our model is." You said, holding your camera close. She nodded and motioned for someone else to come over before walking off to do something.

A tall guy with what looked like a bottle of alcohol came over to you and cautiously poured a glass. "Don't worry, it's not what you're thinking. It's so you can go take pictures easily without drowning. I'll drink some too of your worried about it." You looked at the glass he was holding out to you. It was a light blue drink with some bubbles in it. It looked and smelled like some sort of tropical soda drink.

"Plus we are a professional company, we have rules and regulations to follow regarding things like this. But once you drink up and sign these papers," He said while handing you two pages and a pen, "You'll be ready to go get started with Cassian. He should be here..." He said, dragging his words a bit as he looked around the water. You scanned over the information and it was a simple agreement term for taking the potion.

After confirming there was no sketchy things, you signed and drank the potion. It was like a tropical drink.

Before you knew it, right when you had handed the stuff back, a tan muscular torso with long blonde hair, breached the surface not too far in front of you. You watched as he brushed the lose, wet hair from his face, making a few people in the crowd blush.

'Lucky bastard. He's one of those guys that can do anything and make it look hot.'

You thought to yourself before the guy standing next to you started to talk. "You'll be good for about 6 hours and you'll be able to communicate like on land. Oh also, that, is Cassian." He said, referring to the blonde that you were looking at. Cassian was making casual conversation with some of the group before the same Satyr lady came and talked with him.

You watched for a moment longer before the two blondes looked over to you, making your heart jump slightly. Before you knew it, the tall guy had left your side and the blondes were making their way over to you. You walked a little to meet them halfway.

"I don't think I properly introduced myself!" She said looking up to you. "I'm Siv Penningfon. I mostly do freelance director work for Mid-Human Monthly." You bowed to her slightly. "(Y/n) (L/n), I just moved here but I do freelance photography. If it's a gig that pays I'll take it." You said with a small laugh, making her smile more.

"Of course we can't forget who we're here to take picture of. This is Cassian. I'm sure Dakota told you about him so I'll spare you the details." You smiled, laughed, and nodded before walking over to Cassian to shake his hand. His hands were strong and callous, clearly saying he did some sort of physical work. "Nice to meet you, (Y/n)." He said with a soft smirk. You instantly knew what he was playing at and simply brushed it off with a soft smile and nod.

'I know how to play that game Cassian. Don't go getting full of yourself now.'

"Right! I do believe you are ready to go take pictures right?" You nodded again as you pulled your hand away from Cassian's and looked back to Siv. "Yeah, where are we gonna go first?" Siv thinks for a moment. "I have some spots but it's still a bit early for them. How about you pick the first spot?"

Your eyes lit up, knowing the perfect place for an early morning picture. "Yes! I know somewhere."

A few moments had passed of you leading the other two over to a place near the entrance of the cove. "The way that the sun shines through the water is perfect. It'll frame his figure nicely and offer an enhancement to his already strong contrast to the waters colour." You mumbled out to yourself before stepping into the water. "Well, I'll let you get to work. You've got an hour in this spot but if you're done before then, we can move on." You nodded to Siv before going under.

It was a weird sensation. You hesitantly took a breath, not inhaling water but oxygen. Carefully, you got used to this whole underwater breathing thing before swimming over to Cassian who was messing around with the kelp. You snapped a few pictures of him as he was distracted by something on the floor before noticing you and looking up, half smirking, showing off his sharp canines. You took some more pictures of his little show before guiding him on what you wanted for the pictures.

'For being so full of himself, he listens well. Kinda shocking.'

Cassian looks to his left, holding out his hand as if to hold some of the sun's rays. His hair was floating beautifully around him, the sun framing his facial structure. You snapped a bunch of pictures of him as he continued to pose. You stopped for a moment to mess with some of the camera settings and Cassian saw this as an opportunity to mess with you. He carefully made his way over to you, gently wrapping one of his tentacles around your ankle.

You looked down to his tentacle before looking at his octopus half. It was gorgeous. The way it faded from his tan skin into a much darker brown that steadily spotted and faded out into a bright blue that still held heavy contrast to the more greenish blue water behind him. His tentacle slowly moved up your leg to your thigh but before it could get any further you slapped it away, looking up to him unamused. "Let's maybe wait until we arent working anymore." You said to him with a small wink before going back to what you were doing. Cassian blushed softly and pulled his tentacle back close to his body.

The two of you were under the water for the rest of your hour time limit, racking up hundreds of pictures before you decided to head back up to the surface, Cassian following you. Once you got to the sunny surface, you moved your hair from your face and looked around. You weren't too far from the cove, being on the outside of it just past the entrance on the opposite side of the first photo spot. "I just noticed, I don't think you've even said anything to me since we met." He shrugged and thought for a moment. "I guess I haven't. Not much to say I suppose."

Right as he finished his words, Siv came over to the both of you to show the spot she was talking about. "Cas, if you need a private area I can get you one." Cassian shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, just give me a few and I'll meet you over there." He said, knowing which spot she was talking about. You followed Siv over to a small, foliage covered area. You were confused as there was nothing more than a small pond that Cassian would definitely overflow. Siv seemingly noticed your confusion and decided it might be a good idea to explain the situation. "Cassian is one of the lucky mer-folk that can shift. So he should be getting changed and heading over here soon." You nodded your head and messed with the camera settings again.

A few moments had passed by and a quite tall, yet familiar blonde came over to the two of you wearing a white button-up shirt that had the top three buttons undone, a slim pair of nice dress pants, and a pair of simple leather slip-on dress shoes. His hair was still loose but he had a hair tie around his wrist. "Good lords." You mumbled under your breath before looking away with a blush. Siv seemed to have heard you as she gently pat your back. "This is the last spot unless you wanna take some more pictures. I'm sure the two of you got more than enough pictures while you were under." You smiled and nodded.

"I'd say that's up to Cassian. If he wants to take more pictures somewhere else then I would be down to do it." You said turning back to look at him, only to lock eyes with his bright blue ones. Cassian smiles. "I can't think of anywhere off the top of my head, but if I do think of somewhere while we're taking pictures, I'll let you know." You nodded and looked back to Siv who waved to the both of you as she walked away to leave the two of you to synergize.

He looks at you with furrowed brows for a moment before asking. "Why didn't you change?" You looked up to him and responded, "I'm gonna dry off before I change. I kinda have to put these back in my bag and I don't wanna do that if their wet." Cassian nods and hesitates to say something before changing his mind and not saying it. "Let's go over to the gazebo first."

You followed him over to the gazebo where the two of you took many pictures before moving on to some other spots. After 30 or so minutes, Cassian had stood up and walked over to you. "Are you not wearing sunblock?" He asked, looking at your shoulders. "I was but I guess I have to reapply."

"Well how about you sit in the shade and I go grab a shirt and some water for you." He said with a handsome smirk. You smiled cheekily back to him as you sat in the shade before watching him walk off. A few moments later he returned with a seemingly large shirt and two bottles of water. "Dakota was being protective over your bag so I just grabbed one of my shirts." You nodded as he handed you the sunscreen he pulled from his pocket and the water.

"Do you need help putting the sunscreen on?" You thought for a moment before shyly nodding. "I would appreciate it... I put it on before I left this morning but apparently it wasn't very well done..." He smiles and takes the sunblock back. You sat down on a rock nearby and he popped the cap and put some on his hand before asking you to hold the bottle for him.

He started with your arms, going shoulder to wrist. His hands, though calloused, were soft in rubbing the sunscreen into you skin. You blushed as he continued on and put some on your face, starting from your forehead and moving down. His hands cupped your cheeks, rubbing gently under your closed eyes. "Can I tell you something?" He asked quietly.

You looked up to him and tilted your head slightly. You may have only known him for a few hours but the fact that the confidence he carried so boldly had disappeared had you confused. "Is it odd to say I've never felt this way before? I've never had anyone treat me the way you have." You furrowed your brows after he said that. "What do you mean?"

Cassian shakes his head. "Sorry... I don't know what I'm saying." You didn't press him any farther so you decide to just nod and let him do as he pleased. He put on a smile and said, "Let's keep taking pictures after you put the shirt on." You nodded and slipped the shirt on as he drank from his water bottle. The shirt was much bigger than your frame, going down to about your mid thigh.

The two of you continued the photoshoot without incident. About another hour passed before Siv came to grab the both of you. "That's just about all the time we have for now. Cas, you've got some interviews as well soon. And (Y/n), I'll have you go over some documents for both pay and legal permissions. I'll let you head back on your own but just be back before the hour is over." Both of you nodded and you looked up to Cassian. "Hey Cas?" He looked down to you, cheeks flushing slightly when he did.

"Would you wanna come to the festival this weekend?"

---

3050 not proof read

#monster x male reader #male monster x reader #x male reader #monster male #monster male x male reader #mxm #m4m #octomer x male reader #merman x male reader

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sciapod · 4 years ago

Text

Bathtub Photoshoot 💦

Pairing: Henry Cavill x First Person-POV (Female, or at least X wears a bra and has breasts)

Summary: Little private photosesh' with Henners and then some.

Warnings: Dry humping but let's just call it grinding. Edging. 18+ to be safe!! Contains smut. You might be able to find the tiniest bit of angst. And bit of fluff.

Word count: 2.5K

Not beta’ed! I take full responsibility for this fuckup.

Inspired/prompted by this post by @cavillfics

Masterlist

I obviously don't own Henry Cavill, nor do I know him IRL, so it goes without saying that this is a figment of my imagination.

(I took the liberty to edit the photo just a bit and don’t know who to credit for the original edit. Let me know if you know, so I can give credit where it's due.)

Happy reading 💦

---

“Babe, I've got an idea! Can you do something for me, please?”

When I heard you coming through the front door, I rushed to meet you there. You were finally home again and was hanging your jacket on the coat rack when I found you.

“Oh, well,” you reply, “I really want to just lean back, maybe take a shower or something. It’s been a long week, babe. And hello, by the way.”

You step over to me, reach around my waist and pull me against your firm body.

“Mhm, you smell lovely,” you whisper in my hair. I sigh, then wiggle myself free of your embrace.

“Henry, listen,” I look up at you with my best attempt at puppy eyes. You breathe deeply and turn your face, scratching mine with your stubble. It sends shivers through my body.

“Okay,” you hum as your hands roam my body, finding their way to my bare thighs then sneaking up beneath my robe, “tell me.”

I grab your hips and press my core against your thigh as I lean backwards, looking up at you, “I want to take some pictures … of you.”

Your face goes through a range of emotions; surprised, suspicious, smirking, friendly and finally incredibly charismatic: Front-page-style smile.

“That’s the one!” I say with excitement.

“Which one?” you tease, furrowing your brow and looking all suspicious again.

“You know perfectly well, you buffoon!” I say, as I slap your chest playfully.

My entire body lifts when you laugh. You kiss my forehead and twirl some of my hair between a few fingers. Your eyes shift, gazing at various areas of my face. I sigh, then reach for your hands, the one playing with my hair and the other, which I find gently caressing the lace of my panties.

I hold your hands between us and look up at my man.

“You do realize, of course, that you are basically a Greek god carved out of stone.”

“I have been told so, yes.”

“And you do realize that every artist needs a muse, a model, to create from.”

“I have a faint idea of that, yes,” you say, smirking down at me.

“And I happen to be short of a project, and subject, for my portfolio.”

“I see,” your smile broadens, “but what does that have to do with me?”

“Henry!”

My declining patience must have been obvious somewhere in my face or perhaps my exclamation, because you burst out laughing, throwing your head back as you do so. I can’t help but melt a little.

“Tell me what you need me to do, darling,” you say, stroking my hands with your thumbs. I feel warmth spread through my chest. Your face softens and I feel the warmth spread further down.

“Fuck,” I breathe, casting my eyes to the floor. I’m suddenly filled with all kinds of insecurities, imposter syndrome and such, but there’s a reason why you’re my man. You sense it immediately and lift my hands to your lips, kissing them sincerely.

“You’ve got this, babe.”

I sigh, “I know, sweetheart. It's just… Urgh.”

You kiss my forehead.

“Tell me your idea.”

“I…” My voice breaks. You lift my chin up with a single finger, as if it were suddenly light as a feather, forcing me to look into your striking blue eyes.

“I don’t know,” I finally exclaim. “I didn’t have a concrete idea. I just knew that I wanted you to be in the photos.”

You smile, almost apologetically, “Okay, look. I really want to help. But I’m so damn tired. I’ve got an idea, though, of how we may be able to hit two birds with one stone.”

“Okaay?” I say, a slight tinge of hope seeping into my core again.

“I need a bath–”

“–I can’t take a nude picture of you!”

You laugh again, but shake your head, “No, silly. Let me finish.”

My cheeks flush scarlet.

“I need a bath, but instead of taking a shower, I’ll jump in the tub. Once in there, you can have me do whatever you want.”

I squint my eyes, then see a lightbulb flash on.

“YES!” I almost yell, running my hands up your torso and leaning in for a kiss.

“Yes,” I repeat, then press my lips against your sculpted ones. It is as if your lips curl to a smile amidst the kiss.

“Yes,” I say one last time, meeting your eyes, “If you get the water running, I’ll collect my gear.”

Your hands go wandering about on my hips again, dragging my robe up and making my hairs stand on end. You look down at me with a confident smile, saying, “great minds think alike.”

I fight off the urge to kiss you again and instead draw away from you. You catch the waistband of my robe and it slides off as I step away, revealing the new set of lingerie I’m wearing underneath. I stand, looking at you with what I imagine is the expression of a suspicious feline. You, on the other hand, make a low whistle and shake your head in slow motion, clearly surprised and pleased to see what I was hiding beneath. Then you nod toward the living room, signalling I get on with finding my camera.

It takes me a few minutes to find the right lens. When I enter the bathroom, you’re in the process of unbuckling your belt. The tap is running and there’s already a bit of water in the tub.

“Wait,” I say, stopping you just as you’re about to pull your jeans down, “I think I want you in the water dressed.”

You stare for a moment, shrug, say “sure,” then proceed to tug your jeans over your perky bum again.

“Right, erm,” I think for a moment, “No, you know what? Lose the pants, but keep the t-shirt on.”

“Lose the pants,” you repeat and let your jeans fall to the floor. As you stand back up, I realize something.

“We might have a problem,” I say, eyeing the hefty bulge in your boxers.

You follow my gaze, noticing the same problem, then nod in agreement.

“But then again,” you say, “what did you expect, looking like that?” you hint at my open robe and lingerie.

We both shrug, then burst laughing.

“I guess we’ll just have to make it work!” I say, “Now, in the tub with you, buddy.”

You feel the temperature of the water and deciding that it’s decent, turn off the tap, step in and lie down. There’s not a lot of water in there, but I’m assuming it will do. You look up at me with anticipation, “Now what?”

I squint at you, finding the bulge slightly distracting, basically towering above the waterline like another Burj Khalifa. Obviously, you notice my lack of response.

“Hey, babe!” you say, snapping me out of it. I feel my nether region clench.

“Okay, okay!” I shake my head to wake up. You shake yours too, smirking at me.

“We need to do something about that,” I say.

“I can try to hide it?” you suggest.

“How?” I squint. It’s a mastodon of a package you has stored down there, I think to myself.

“Anyway, I need to find a position to photograph you from.”

I begin taking random photos of you from various angles and perspectives, simultaneously adjusting the settings on the camera as I do so. Meanwhile, you roll around to one side, then the other, then back again. The squeaking sounds of your body rubbing against the sides of the tub while you change poses makes the whole situation rather comedic, and I'm convinced you're doing it even worse on purpose. Determined to be somewhat professional, I try to ignore your distractions.

“It’s a good thing we have such good lighting in here,” I say, gazing around the small room, pretending to be focused and ignorant of your attempts at sabotage.

“How do you want me, babe? I feel like… I don’t even know? A fish out of water,” you say, doubting your own wording, “or something like that.”

I sigh, “I know, I get it. I need to think. We’ve also still got that… situation… going on.” I gesture at the, no less apparent, tent between your legs.

“Okay,” you say calmly, “I’ll just lie back and relax, while you think of something.”

“Good.”

As you settle into a comfortable position, I mentally run through the various “golden rules” of photography that I can remember.

Then it’s as if I notice the obvious. The absolute god-like adonis carved in marble in front of me: My initial inspiration. Your white t-shirt, soaked from all the turning and splashing around you did, is sticking to your chest and abs, enhancing the lines of your muscular torso, yet still in a perfectly suggestive fashion; somewhat similar to the drapery you see on these same sculptures. In a fit of impulse, I crawl up to stand on the edges of the tub.

You open your eyes –awoken by my scramblings– fear in your eyes as you reach for me, “be careful, babe!”

“No no, darling! Stay put!” I say, “I’m perfectly safe. It’s dry. My feet are dry. I’m stable, but thank you.” I smile, reassuringly. Suspicious yet accepting, you lower your arms and lie back down. I notice your eyes trail down my exposed body. Lust now clear as daylight in your gaze.

“I think I’ve got the photo soon, babe, then we’re done,” I explain. “Just close your eyes for me.”

You shake your head and smile, then do as I said.

Your head rests on the back of the tub, but your fingers begin fidgeting … around your nether region.

“Are you uncomfortable?” I ask between photos.

“No…” you smirk, eyes still closed, but you shift and rest your hands awkwardly on your stomach instead.

“We can’t have that,” I say, “you’re covering the main part of the photo,” I tease.

You open your eyes, still smirking but not saying a word.

“And you’re revealing, exposing, what we need to hide,” I try to hold back my laugh.

“Okay,” I continue, “what about… what if you hold your t-shirt at the hem and stretch it down to cover your crotch. Place your other hand casually beside it. Yeah, like that! Exactly, babe. Beautiful.”

I take a couple of photos and look at them on the tiny screen.

“Right, hold that pose, but just… kinda relax, if you can. I’ll take a few shots more and then you’re done!”

You close your eyes again and begin taking deep breaths, lessening the tension that must have been building in your shoulders over the last few days. As peace falls upon your face and body, I take the last photos. After quickly reviewing them on the tiny screen, I decide that I’m done. I turn off my camera and place it on the shelf above the tub before crawling down to sit on the edge of the tub, my feet in the water between your legs.

“Okay, it’s a wrap!”

Your eyes flash open and you let go of your t-shirt. The fabric bounces back, revealing your hairy tummy, teasing me. You look up at me with mischief, then give your member a squeeze.

“Get down here,” you say, almost ferocious in your voice.

I feel myself get all giddy with sudden anticipation as you rise like Poseidon from the water. Before I can do anything other than yelp, you pull me down onto you and with a splash and a thud I land against your rock-hard body. I'm instantly soaked.

“Finally,” you mutter, drenching my face and neck with hungry kisses. Your hands tease the collar of my robe before sliding it over my shoulders. Your eyes explore the curves of my upper body, then you adjust me so that I sit straddled upon you. You don’t speak a word, but your eyes and body say everything I need to know.

I feel your girth throbbing against me. You slide my robe all the way off and without taking your eyes off me, you cast it aside. Then your hands slide up my body. You cup my breasts tenderly, admiring the lace and how the new style of bra suits my breasts. You lick your lips as your thumbs begin stroking my hardening nipples. I sigh and begin grinding against the tip of your member.

You sit up and proceed to kiss and bite the flesh of my breasts. Gently holding the lace aside with your fingers, you capture my nipples between your teeth, ever so gently, before circling your tongue around them with exquisite attention. While squeezing my breasts together, you kiss them one after the other, back and forth, before venturing up to my collarbone and neck. All I can do is whimper and moan.

Then you grasp my hair, pulling my head back. Between kisses and bites on my exposed neck, you breathe damp, sultry words onto my skin. Expressions of how I’ve been a tease, how patient you’ve been and how much you want me now. I want to answer, but I can’t do anything but mutter incoherencies; your throbbing cock eagerly pressing against my core and thus stealing all of my vocabulary.

My breath quickens as I grind harder, cursing the fabrics that keep our cores from meeting, merging. Then you push me towards you, allowing our lips to meet in hungry kisses. My bra loosens. You must have managed to open and take it off me with your other hand, before also casting it aside. You grab at my liberated breasts, then sit up and pull your drenched t-shirt over your head. It lands on the bathroom floor with a splash. My hands instinctively seek the wet fur of your stomach and chest, momentarily squeezing your pecs, then wander south again.

Your eyes read pure hunger and you buck your hips. As I fall back down from the jump, my core meets the powerful strength of your pelvis, bucking yet again. I gasp, overcome by a mixture of arousal and humor. You buck again, a laugh escapes me and somehow, after a few times of this, you’ve managed to free your erection from your boxers. I didn’t notice, but at some point you must have turned on the tap again, because I see you turn it back off. I guess this increased level of water also explains the more slow-motion-like sensation I experience as I land back down on your pelvis; a somewhat softer landing than before. In my own defence, I was entranced and my mind was not functioning at 100%, hence the questionable description. Anyway, both our hips are now submerged under water and I simply shake my head at your mischievous ways. You smirk and pull me down to a deep kiss, slapping my ass through the water, making more water splash all over the place. Everything in the room is certainly wet by now.

I grind against your exposed and infinitely hard cock as your fingers slider under the lace. Your hands grab my cheeks with determination, enhancing the force and enabling you to better thrust against my grinding motion. The friction is causing short-circuits in my brain, making me see colours that aren’t there. My first climax is staggeringly near, but just before I get to release, you buck your hips again, making me scoot off your cock. A devious grin is smeared across your chiseled face.

“You had me waiting, sweetheart. Now it’s my turn to tease.”

---

Thanks for reading my shitpost! Please leave a comment of your thoughts, however nonsensical they may be 💜🙏

Tags in the reblog 🖤Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list.

#henry cavill #henry daddy #henry cavill is daddy #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill smut #henry #henry cavill x first person pov #henry cavill x poc reader #henry cavill x any colour reader #real person fic #real person fiction #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill bathtub scene #sciapod writes smut

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4stars-uswnt · 4 years ago

Text

My Muse, My Valentine [Christen Press x Reader]

requested by anon: Not sure if you’re accepting any request but can you write a cp x photographer gf where her gf surprised her at man u, like her gf secretly transfer there to be with cp. Thanks

A/N: please ignore some of the inconsistencies this story has with reality :) but anyways... hope you enjoy and have a happy Valentine’s Day (tomorrow) and remember it’s a day about LOVE, whether that be romantic, platonic, familial, or self ❤️

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whine, as you watch your girlfriend pack her suitcase.

“I know, babe. I’m gonna miss you too, so much.” Christen leans down to quickly peck your lips, before continuing to fold her clothes.

You and Christen had been dating for almost three years now, having met after you’d photographed one of the USWNT’s matches. You instantly felt an attraction to the curly-haired forward, your camera always drifting towards her wherever she was on the pitch.

After you’d posted a couple of your photos on your Instagram, which Christen made a point to like and repost, you gathered up the courage to approach her after a game, and thus began your relationship.

With yours and Christen’s busy schedules, it was sometimes hard to find time for each other, but you made it work, sharing an apartment in Portland during the offseason and flying out for matches when you could. But being a sports photographer did have its benefits, as your work often led you to spending more time with your girlfriend and admiring her speed down the field and score goals.

But now, with the pandemic, as the NWSL was struggling to field games, you found yourself with little work. Christen herself was not quite satisfied with the league’s plan for the season, so when Tobin proposed the idea of going to the WSL, she desperately wanted to, yearning to get back on the pitch.

At first, when Christen approached you with the subject, you immediately opposed, not wanting to be so far from your girlfriend for such a long amount of time. Additionally, with COVID, it would be nearly, if not completely, impossible for you to visit. But after a blowout fight and discussing it further, you realized that this is what would be best for Christen and her career.

“Do you have to go?” You pout, sitting up and moving to the end of the bed.

“You know I do, (Y/N/N).” Christen playfully rolls her eyes.

“Humph.”

“Babe, come on, don’t make me feel worse about leaving you.”

“Then don’t,” you quip, grabbing your girlfriend by the waist, pulling her down on the bed with you.

“Babe!” Christen squeals, as you blow raspberries into her skin.

You lift your head from the crook of her neck, your eyes locking with hers. “I know that you have to go,” you admit seriously. “Doesn’t mean I like it, but I know that this is what’s best for your career.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she says earnestly, giving you a small smile. “We’ll text and FaceTime everyday.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You cup her face and bring her in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of her soft lips on yours. “I also know that you’re gonna kill it over there in Manchester. The WSL isn’t gonna know what hit them.”

Christen ducks her bashfully, a small blush arising on her cheeks. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Chris. I love you, too.”

“Good.” She gives you a quick peck, as she gets up from the bed. “Now, either quit bothering me or help me. My flight is early tomorrow morning, and I haven’t even finished packing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

—————

It had been a little over five months since you’d dropped Christen off at the airport and she left for Manchester. Despite the constant texting and the nightly FaceTime calls, you couldn’t help but ache for your girlfriend. Without her, the apartment was lonelier and the bed felt bigger.

It had helped that your work had started back up, first with some freelance work and then with the NWSL fall series starting, which gave you something to do and kept you fairly busy.

Currently, you were sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee, as you edited some photos for the Thorns. Just as you were saving your work and closing Lightroom, about to shut your computer, a ping alerts a new email in your inbox.

Switching tabs, you notice the message is from an unfamiliar address, so you presume it’s a new client. You click and open it, your eyes widening, as you scan the email:

Ms. (Y/L/N),

I noticed your professional portfolio through many referrals, particularly your work form the World Cup. I am writing on behalf of the BBC News Media Centre, and we’re looking for an excellent sports photographer to join the team, specifically to cover the FA Women’s Super League and the Premier League.

Your experience is outstanding, adn your work speaks for itself. I think you’d be a great fit for this role, and I’d love to tell you more about it and hear more from you.

Would you like to set up a phone or Zoom call soon? If so, let me know when you’re available.

Best,

Charles Smith

Director of Media Relations at BBC Sport

You quickly reread the email, and then reread it again, just to make sure you’re not dreaming. This was too good to be true. But you shake yourself out of your stupor and quickly type out a response to set up a phone call as soon as possible.

After hitting send, you shut your computer with excitement and throw your hands up in the air.

“Yes!” You exclaim into the empty apartment, as you throw your fist in the air and jump off the barstool.

Knowing you needed to distract yourself, otherwise you’d just be staring at your computer, eagerly awaiting the response, you decided to go on a run.

Jogging through the city, you think of your girlfriend and your potential reunion if this job offer worked out. You decided that if you did in fact take this position, you’d surprise Christen at one of her matches, hopefully one that you’d be able to photograph.

As soon as you arrive back in your apartment, you make a beeline for your laptop. You anxiously open your inbox and beam when you see Charles had replied to set up a Zoom call at 9:30 tomorrow morning. You excitedly type out pleasantries, telling him you’re looking forward to it.

For the rest of the afternoon, you were in an increasingly good mood. So later that evening, when Christen called you for your routine FaceTime, she could tell something was up.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?”

“Can I not be happy to talk to my girlfriend?” You tease, a huge grin plastered onto your face.

“You can,” Christen trails off, not quite believing you. “But you have the weird giddy look you get when something’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. Just had a good day,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Okay,” the forward accepts, still eyeing you suspiciously. “Anyways, you know She Believes is in a couple weeks, are you working the tournament?”

“Yup,” you nod and make a mental note to mention that to Charles tomorrow.

The two of you continue updating each other, chatting about topics ranging from what you had for breakfast that day to re-inc’s upcoming drop.

“Alright,” Christen yawns. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

You check your phone and see it’s 5:37 pm, meaning it’s almost midnight in Manchester.

“Okay,” your eyes softening at the sight of your sleepy girlfriend. “Good night, Chris. I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe. G’night.”

After ending the call and shutting your laptop, you head into the kitchen to make some dinner for yourself, getting on with your evening.

—————

The next morning, you anxiously await for Charles to begin the Zoom call, nervously bouncing your knee and biting your lip.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Charles greets, his face appearing on your screen.

“Good morning. Or rather good afternoon?” You correct with a light chuckle, to which he reciprocates.

“Well, as you know from my email, we are looking for a photographer to join our team, and from many referrals, you seem to be a very good candidate,

“So, I was thinking maybe we could look at your portfolio really quickly and then hash out the logistics to see if this is something that could work out.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, as you pull up some of your best pictures and share your screen.

The two of you look through your photos, many from the 2019 World Cup, some of the Olympics, and a few from random NWSL games.

“Well, (Y/N), your work is quite impressive. If you’re ready, and you’re seriously interested in this position, we can talk specifics, scheduling, all that good stuff,” Charles offers.

“I’m definitely interested, but can I just preface by saying that my girlfriend is a major part of this decision, so depending on what she wants to do at the end of the season will impact my contract.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, clearly not expecting your candor. “Your girlfriend plays in the WSL?”

“Yeah, well, technically only for this season. Her contract is up in May,” you explain.

“(Y/N), to be completely frank, we’re looking to hire because a couple of our photographers had some personal issues due to COVID and had to leave mid-season,” Charles reveals. “So if it turns out that your girlfriend wants to go back to the NWSL, then we can work that out. And if she wants to stay, and you end up liking it here and you fit in well, we can also work that out. We’re pretty flexible.”

You sigh in relief, giving him a small smile. “Wow, thank you so much. So what would my contract look like?”

“Well, we can sign you to three month contract with the option for extension,” he offers, as you nod along enthusiastically.

“That sounds great,” you exclaim, beaming. “And just to let you know, I’ve already signed on to work the She Believes tournament from the 18th to the 21st.”

“That actually aligns with the WSL’s international break, and there are a couple Premier League matches that weekend, but I think we can manage, so that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“You guys are too kind and so flexible. I really appreciate it so much,” you say earnestly.

“It’s really just us being desperate for a good photographer,” Charles jokes.

“Either way, I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

“We’re excited for you to join our team,” he reciprocates. “So, in terms of when you’ll begin, I honestly would like you to come over as soon as possible so that you can get settled and get acclimated.”

“I am honestly ready to start whenever you’ll have me.”

“How about next week? The Manchester Derby is on Friday, and honestly, given your portfolio, I’d love you to photograph that match,” the British man admits.

“That’s perfect!” You were in complete awe of how perfectly everything was working out. Photographing a Man United match as your first job meant you could surprise Christen, maybe as an early Valentine’s gift.

“Great,” Charles smiles.

The two of you discuss and finalize your contract and the logistics of you starting the job. Once everything’s settled and you each have the information you need, you wrap up the call.

“Well, thank you so much, Charles, for this offer, and I can’t wait to see you next Tuesday.”

“I can’t wait to work with you and meet you. See you next week. Cheers.”

After ending the Zoom call, you begin to make a COVID test appointment, book your flight, and arrange your hotel room for the few days that Christen doesn’t know you’re there, preparing yourself for moving across the world.

—————

After landing in London, getting settled into your hotel, and meeting with the BBC team and the other photographers, you were now on your way to the Manchester Derby.

In the back of the black cab, you pull out your phone to text a good luck text to Christen.

It was difficult to keep your surprise a secret, especially when you were actually in England, because it was much more difficult to FaceTime without her noticing your change in setting. You had to make up the excuse that you were swarmed with editing and preparing for the upcoming Thorns trainings.

As you pull up to the Academy Stadium, you hear your phone ding.

Chris ❤️

Thanks babe. Miss and love you 😘

You quickly type out a response, before heading into the building.

(Y/N/N) 💗

Love you too. I miss u too but go kick butt.

The match was exhilarating. Not only were you a sports photographer, but you were also a huge fan of the game, enjoying a good game when you see one.

You watched in awe, the level and style of play significantly different from than NWSL. While snapping hundreds of photos of both teams, your camera would always somehow land back on your girlfriend.

Your heart ached for the curly-haired forward, as you missed her dearly. Until you saw her back on the pitch, you hadn’t really realized that you missed watching her play the game that she’d mastered, her movements around the pitch and on the ball effortless and elegant.

As the ref blew the whistle, signaling the end of the half, you scroll through some of the photos you’d taken, deleting some of the blurry and unfocussed ones.

A smile immediately forms on your face when you see a picture of Christen during warmups with a huge grin on her face. You spend all of halftime editing said photo and putting together an Instagram post for your girlfriend.

About fifteen minutes later, the teams take the pitch and you go back to doing your job. Throughout the second half, you could tell that Christen was getting increasingly frustrated, her team getting down 3-0 with only about five minutes left.

You watch as the players high five and hug each other, and you want nothing more than to run onto the field to be with your girlfriend, but you had a plan to stick to.

As the team goes back into the locker room, you pull out your phone to post a photo on Instagram and then you shoot a quick text to Tobin:

(Y/N)🤓:

toby go check out my ig post :))

Back in the Man United locker room, after Casey went through her post match speech, Tobin checks her phone and sees a text from you. The injured forward playfully rolls her eyes at your message but follows your directions.

Upon opening the social media app, Tobin raises her eyebrows, her eyes widening. She glances across the room to see if her best friend had seen your post, but Christen was minding her own business, changing into sweats after her shower.

“Chris!” The older forward calls over to the other woman. “Have you seen your girlfriend’s Instagram post?”

Christen furrows her brows in confusion. “What? No, what is it?”

Tobin waves her friend over and shows her the post:

Liked by mrapinoe, ashlynharris24, and 638,231 others

yourusername: My muse, my valentine.

“As I sat and looked at her

and the rolling hills she sat upon

I thought,

what amazing luck I have

that the world had created

such beautiful things

and given me the eyes to see them.”

- atticus

tagged: christenpress

- - - - -

mrapinoe: Stunning pictures, (Y/N). Love you guys 💖

alikrieger: These photos are 🔥🔥🔥🔥

alexmorgan13: love this 😍😍

cdunn19: Beautiful!

glennondoyle: Love love love love this!!

ashlynharris24: Holy shit! Are you in Manchester????

↳lavellerose: Was this today??

↳sammymewyy: Oh my gosh it was!

↳kellyohara: Valentine’s Day surprise for Pressy?? 👀

Christen zooms in on the photo in the center, her eyes widening when she realizes that it is from today’s match.

“How did she get that picture?”

Tobin mentally slaps her forehead at her friend’s denseness. “Knowing (Y/N), she probably took it.”

“But that’s impossible. She’s in the States,” Christen states and shakes her head, dumbfounded.

“Actually,” you speak up, stepping into the locker room, deciding to make your presence known. “I’m right here.”

“(Y/N)?” Your girlfriend looks up at you, her mind in a state of shock.

“Hey, love,” you greet shyly.

Once her mind caught up with reality, Christen runs and jumps into your body, kissing you passionately but briefly and wrapping you into a bone crushing hug.

“I can’t believe your here,” she whispers into your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, babe, so much.”

Unwrapping herself from the hug, Christen stares at you in awe. “What… how are you here?”

“We can talk about that later,” you give her another quick kiss. “But right now, I just wanna spend time with you. Maybe we can grab some dinner? You can show me around Manchester, considering I’m gonna be spending a lot of time here.”

Your girlfriend looks at you puzzled, but you just give her a wink with a small smirk on your face.

“Well, c’mon lets get out of here.”

—————

Back at Christen’s apartment, the two of you sit down for a nice and casual, but romantic, dinner you’d prepared along with a bottle of red wine.

After catching up, the forward finally decides to address the elephant in the room. “So how are you here? What’s going on, (Y/N/N)? You said earlier that you’d be spending a lot of time in Manchester, what does that mean? I’m so confused. Not that I’m grateful that you’re here right now and that I get to see you, but I thought you were working She Believes, and—“

“Chris,” you cut off your girlfriend’s endearing rambling. “Babe, you’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” she blushes, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I got a job with BBC Sport till the end of the season,” you answer her parade of questions.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

You nod, while taking a sip of your water. “It means I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

Not having the adequate words to express her joy and excitement, Christen gets up from her chair, walks over to sit in your lap, and connects you lips for a searing kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathes, rubbing her nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you quickly peck her lips while rubbing circles on her hip. “But as much as I love you and all this romance, we gotta get going soon.”

Your girlfriend tilts her head in confusion.

“Do the words ‘She Believes’ ring a bell?” You tease. “If I remember correctly, our flight leaves in a couple hours.”

“You’re coming with me?” Christen asks, her brain trying to wrap around the fact that her girlfriend, who she hadn’t seen in almost five months, would now be living with her in England and flying back to the States with her for the next week.

“Of course, Chris,” you give her a cheeky smile, along with a kiss to her nose, as you quote a book Becky had convinced the whole team to read. “You should know by now that I’d follow you anywhere. You’re the only good thing left in this world.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #christen press x reader #christen press imagine #christen press imagines #uswnt #christen press

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blossomszn · 4 years ago

Text

Blossomed Lens

Back home, you had always seen your life through one, dull lens. But moving to the beautiful island of Okinawa, Japan, to start the next chapter in your life, helps you to discover new ways of seeing the world. It seems your black and white world may just start to become tainted with pink blossom.

Part 1 - An Escapade in Okinawa

You glare at your reflection in the small bathroom mirror for the last time. Is your hair pinned upright? Are there any visible creases in your blouse? Has your makeup smudged at all?

You know you’re just overthinking. You’re fine.

So walking back into your bedroom to your bed, you sit down and collect together all the documents you need for your interview. Your résumé sits at the top, with a small professional picture of yourself staring back at you. Underneath, is your application, clearly printed in black and white. Lastly, your portfolio.

The job you’re applying for is only a personal assistant position at a Calligraphy studio up to the centre of town. Though, what interests you the most, is the technology involved within the firm. Being a photographer like yourself, art and technology is a pair you’re both very familiar and well equipped with. So seeing the application, you just could not stop yourself to apply.

You’ve been living in Okinawa, Japan for two months now. Ever since you visited the beautiful island on a holiday in your teens with your friends, you made a pact to yourself that you will move to this heavenly island, and take endless pictures of the beautiful landscape scenery that captures its essence.

Of course, leaving behind your friends and family was difficult. But you’re not the type of girl who stays in one place for long. Travelling is what you do, and photography has become an orthodox lifestyle for you. A lifestyle in which makes you happy.

It hasn’t been so hard, the change of scene. Okinawa is just how you remembered it. Paradisiacal beaches, dreamy sunsets, friendly people, delicious food. It makes your hometown look relatively dull. But nothing will beat the excitement of when you first stepped off the plane and was welcomed by the heat of the island, luggage in hand and adventure on your mind.

Because of the size of the Japanese island, your apartment did not cost as much as you thought it would. It’s basic with one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen and a bathroom. Besides, you have been saving for this escapade for three years now, you have a decent amount of money to last you a good eight or nine months. But not only did you save money for three years, but you learnt how to speak and write Japanese too. You’re not completely fluent, but you knew if you wanted to work out here you needed to know the basics. And from what you’ve spoken so far with the locals, your paid courses have come to good use.

Naturally, you want to become a professional photographer as soon as possible. But in order to apply to the best companies on the island, you want to complete your upcoming project; Night Lights of Okinawa. Yes, the island is breathtaking during the day, but the night is just as exhilarating. Thus, after your project is completed and you have experience working on the island, you will set out on your photography career.

But for now, you let your eyes scan over the application for Sakurayashiki Calligraphy once more. It’s a basic personal assistant job. Providing to the needs of the very busy founding director, while maintaining the clientele, and looking after the studio. The pay is what also enticed you. The company must be very wealthy to pay an assistant this much. Actually, out of all the other places you have applied to, this seems like the highest-paid one.

Sliding all of your paperwork safely into your portfolio folder, you grab your phone off of the bedside table and type the studio’s address into maps. It's not long at all, a half-hour walk. You don’t exactly want to take your bike, the fear your ironed down outfit will become creased. Thus, you set out on your half-hour walk.

The walk significantly calms your nerves before the interview. You walk along the stoney lanes with a small smile on your face. Moving to the island still hasn’t set in, so you always catch yourself smiling. People must think you’re a lunatic.

The sun is beating down, it’s a hot day, so you’re relieved to wear a short-sleeved blouse and a long skirt. You’re still not quite sure about the interview clothing requirements here in Japan, so you played it safe making sure your skirt was long enough and your shoes we’re not too high. You even kept your makeup minimal, with some light blush, lip gloss and mascara.

After taking a slightly longer route to walk beside the crystal blue sea, you check your maps to see you have arrived at the building. The outdoor looks very clean, a two-story white building, with varnished wooden panels lining the windows and a sign in Japanese that reads ‘Sakurayashiki Calligraphy’.

This is it. The interview you’re hoping you'll bag.

The butterflies in the pits of your stomach begin to flutter more aggressively. You just hope the founding director is a nice man, and the job is just what you expected it would be.

So taking a deep breath, you step through the floral tainted doors into the Calligraphy studio.

The place smells very clean, with a small hint of cherries. The walls are rich mahogany with golden swirls and patterns painted across. The floor is sparkling varnished wood, and there’s natural light pouring through the vast windows. It really is a grand looking place.

Once you step through the doors, a young woman dressed in a deep purple kimono approaches you immediately and smiles pleasantly at you. “Hello, you must be Evelyn Reader! A pleasure to make your acquaintance” She greets, bowing slightly. You notice she is speaking in English. She must have read your application.

You bow too, letting a graceful smile touch your face “Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you. But please, call me Eva”

“Of course” She smiles “Sakurayashiki-Sama will be with you shortly. Please, take a seat” She smiles, gesturing to the two pristine black chairs by the window. “Would you like any refreshments? Water, tea, some coffee?”

“Just some water, please,” You say, making yourself comfy on the chair.

“Of course. I will be just a moment”

Once the woman has left, you fish in your bag for your portfolio to memorise your résumé. You check over each skill you have listed, each attribute, retaining each bit of information. By the time your water is set on the glass coffee table before you, you feel everything is intact in your brain.

You’ve got this. You’ve had many interviews in the past. This one is no different.

Once ten very long minutes pass by, you hear footsteps coming from the stairs. You direct your eyes to a suited young male making his way towards the door. You spot his briefcase in his hand. He must be another candidate.

The woman immediately gets up from her reception desk and heads over to the male, taking the empty teacup from his grasp and waving goodbye.

You feel even more nervous now. Now you’ve seen another candidate, you just can’t help but compare. He looked very formal. Do you look presentable enough? Perhaps you should have worn those shiny back heels tucked away in your wardrobe? Or put on a brighter shade of lipstick?

No. Don’t overthink, Eva. You have got this.

That’s when an electronic voice echos around the room. Almost like a robot.

“Master Sakurayashiki is now ready for the next candidate” It speaks. You look over towards the young woman on the desk and see a faint purple glow illuminating her face. Is this the famous AI technology you have read about on their website?

“Thank you Carla” The woman responds, sitting up from her desk and directing her gaze onto you.

“Sakurayashiki-Sama will see you now. If you would like to follow me” She smiles warmly. Your heart suddenly jolts at that. You feel your hands go slightly clammy as you hold tightly onto the portfolio in your grip. You hope you don’t get the folder all sweaty, that would be embarrassing.

You follow the receptionist up the stairs in which the male candidate came from, and walk along another mahogany corridor. At the end, you reach a tall door. Delicately written across a wooden plate attached to the door, are the words ‘桜屋敷スタジオ’ Kaoru Sakurayashiki’s Studio.

“You can walk straight in,” She says, gesturing to the wooden door before you.

Pushing the door forward, you step foot into a large space. The walls are the same style, if not with more gold patterns accompanying the deep red. The floor however is different, with a mix of light and dark purple tatami mats. To the far side of the wall is black shelving, with glittering awards and rich ornaments. And in the middle of the shelving is a large black plaque with what you assume is an example of Sakurayashiki’s work. Next to the shelving, sits a man at a dark wooden table.

Immediately hearing your entrance, he rises from the table to greet you. He’s dressed in navy blue traditional Japanese clothing. Although what catches your eye most of all is his vibrant pink hair, tied to the side in a messy ponytail. His eyes are a piercing golden yellow, and they shine in the daylight’s sunbeams.

You have to admit, he is a very handsome man. That makes your interview much worse, doesn’t it? That the man who will possibly be your boss if you do get the job, is incredibly good looking? Snapping back to reality and focusing on the matter at hand, you smile warmly at the man.

“Evelyn Reader it’s a pleasure to meet you” He smiles, holding out a delicate hand for you to shake.

You hope your hand is not too shaky as you extend it to touch with Sakurayashiki’s. “It’s lovely to meet you too. But please, call me Eva” Your voice comes out a lot more confident than you thought it would. That’s a relief.

“Ok, Eva, if that is what you prefer” He smiles “Please, take a seat over here” He announces. You notice how he is also speaking in English. He knows it well, speaking very formally.

“Thank you” You smile, making your way to the opposite side of the table. You sit down on the purple tatami mat and find it is very comfortable. Putting your bag beside you, you place the black folder on the table.

“Thank you for taking the time to visit today. I assume you found our studio well?” He asks. The way he is looking intently into your eyes is making you suddenly come over all nervous again. So you place your hands tightly in your lap to stop you from fidgeting.

“Yes, I did. It’s not too far from my apartment actually. Just a half-hour walk” You respond.

“I see, that is quite fortunate” Sakurayashiki hums. “What is your résumé profile?” He asks.

As soon as the question escapes his lips, a small black disc in the middle of the table lights up, with a purple C illuminating at the top of the beam.

“Evelyn Reader. Age twenty-two. Nationality, English” The robotic female voice speaks from the small black disc. It’s the very same voice that spoke downstairs to the receptionist. The technology picked up his question so easily? Extraordinary.

“Thank you Carla” Sakurayashiki smiles happily. You assume this piece of technology must be the man's pride and joy. He even gave it a name. “It appears you are from England. Whatever made you decide to move to such a reserved island to the south of Japan?” He asks.

“I actually visited Okinawa back as a teenager on a holiday. Since then, I have been dying to come back and potentially move here permanently. And well, after getting my degree at University I wanted a change of scene, so I decided to go for it. I have been living here for two months now, I spent them making the most of the island and exploring all around but now I think it’s time I settled down into a new role” Once you finish you take a small breath. You feel you did quite well with your explanation. You hope you’re exactly what Sakurayashiki is looking for.

“You are quite right, the island is indeed beautiful. I’m glad you’re enjoying it here. What is it you did at university in England?” He questions.

You pause for just a second. You feel a little dumbfounded now. You’re not sure which questions he is asking you and which he is asking the AI Carla. A few seconds later when the technology doesn’t light up again, you respond. “I did a degree in photography. I feel I have a very creative spark, and I did a lot of the arts all through school and through University. I paint and draw in my spare time, I am very skilled with editing softwares such as Photoshop, Illustrator and Indesign. And of course, photography” You explain.

“Naturally someone with a creative spark is exactly what we need for this position. Although most of your work will be assisting when you can around the studio, it is still important you have a keen eye for the arts” He says.

“Yes, well in my portfolio here," You say, gesturing to the black folder before you. “My work ranges from photography photos to fine art pieces, and I paint in my spare time too. I have also learnt Japanese Hiragana, which I feel I am quite skilled in at this point. So if by any means you need assisting in the calligraphy side of things, I am no stranger to the paintbrush. My experience as you will see from my résumé, I worked in an art studio back at University. It was my mothers, she is a professional painter. That is where I picked up most of my artistic skills”

All the while you talk Sakurayashiki sits and listens. You try your best to hold his gaze while you speak. But you can’t help but feel horribly nervous when you do. You find yourself saying subconsciously again, why does he have to be so darn handsome?

“That’s interesting to hear. My mother too is a professional painter, and it is where I refined my skills also" He smiles "It seems you have the creative persona we are looking for. Do you mind if I take a look at your portfolio?” Sakurayashiki asks.

“Oh really? That’s funny” You smile. “And of course, here” You slide the black folder towards him.

“Thank you,” He says. He opens it first on the photography page, examining the glossy pictures inside. He is quiet for a moment as he flicks through. He then looks through your paintings, and finally your written Hiragana. “Your work is something special. I can see you definitely have that creative spark you was talking about. What is your favourite piece?” He asks, with his eyes still on your work.

Hm. No one has ever asked you that. You take a moment to have a think before answering “If I had to pick one, including my paintings, I would have to say my photograph of the eerie-looking forest. I took it last year when I was on holiday in the Lake District in the UK with my friends. Even though it was summer, it was raining the whole time we were there. But the shot was so chilling and almost sinister from the gloomy colours and the dark undertones. And with the rain, I just feel it completes the picture. It’s almost like a shot taken from a horror movie…” you realise you have been rambling so much about a single photograph you instantly stop yourself. “Sorry I do love that piece as you can see” You smile awkwardly.

Sakurayashiki smiles. “No do not apologise. I can see how passionate you are about your work and that is very important. I enjoyed listening. That is why I asked you, is it not?” He says. “I particularly like this painting here myself” He hums, tilting the folder slightly towards you. The painting he chose was a self-portrait from a project back in sixth form when you was eighteen. It’s an old one, but it’s very colourful and was inspired by a retro styled artist.

Although once it sinks into your brain that it is indeed a self-portrait he has picked out and right now your eyes are staring back at you, you can’t help a slight blush rise to your cheeks. “Oh… thank you. That’s quite an old one from back at school” You say, tightening your grip onto your pencil skirt. At this point, you don’t care if the thing gets creased. You’re too god damn nervous again.

“It’s different from the others in here. A lot brighter, and more vibrant in colour” He comments, closing the folder to slide back to you. “Now you mentioned earlier that you have learnt the Japanese language which is very impressive, how long did it take you?” He asks.

You feel your mouth has turned incredibly dry, so you take a sip of your water before answering “I visited Okinawa when I was Nineteen. So about three years. However, whenever I do get the chance, I continue to practice”

“Excellent. It’s nice to see someone motivated in learning the language now that they’re over here. A lot of people tend to stick with the basics” He sighs “Now of course a requirement on the application is to speak moderately in Japanese. You will be handling our clients after all. So Miss Reader tell me, what makes you the ideal candidate for the role?”

Sakurayashiki continues to ask you standard interview questions after that. What your skills are, your strengths and weaknesses, your greatest achievement, where you see yourself in five years. You answer each one in detail, and precisely, all the while taking sips at your water to give yourself time to think of the best way to answer.

“And when is it Miss Reader that you can start with us if you were to be hired for the position?” Sakurayashiki asks.

“Well, straight away” You smile.

What you did notice throughout the entire interview was that Sakurayashiki did not once write down your responses to any of his questions. But then again, this is a man with exceptional technology, it would not surprise you if the AI Carla is recording everything for him.

“That’s great. Well, I believe that is everything from me” He smiles “Is there anything you wish to ask?”

“Yes, there is actually. On the application, it states there will be a requirement for travelling. What does this entail?” You ask.

“Of course. We often have a lot of events and talks in which we need to be present and I will require a lot of your assistance. Though I do believe it will be good experience for you. I also have regular meetings with our clientele, and it would be ideal to have you there to note everything down for me, as well as get to know them formally. I would expect at least once a week you will be away from the studio”

“I see that sounds good. I was hoping for a bit of travelling in my next position” You smile.

“Well, it’s lucky you found this position” He responds with another warm smile.

“Yes, it is”

“Is there anything else you wish to ask me before we end this interview?” He asks.

You think it over. You feel you know everything that you need to. And your mother always says at least one question is always enough at the end of an interview. Too many will overwhelm the interviewer. “No that is all”

“Perfect” Sakurayashiki stands then, patting down his kimono. “Thank you again for meeting with me today. I will have Hina on reception give you a call by tomorrow morning to let you know if you are successful”

“Thank you for the opportunity Sakurayashiki-sama" You smile "I will look forward to the call” You extend your hand to shake with Sakurayashiki’s once more.

Once you’re outside the wooden doors you pause just a moment before you head downstairs. There's a feeling deep down inside you, one that you don’t want to admit. But you covertly hope you get the job just so you can get to know Sakurayashiki himself. He seems like a very interested man… well, by interesting you probably mean good looking.

No, stop being so shallow, you think. You shake your head to rid of the ridiculously unprofessional thoughts before walking back down the stairs. Heading for the door, the receptionist Hina says goodbye and gives you a wave.

On your way home, you take a little detour and head to a nearby park. It’s still a beautiful day, and you feel you’re getting a little hot in your blouse and long pencil skirt. Even though you look around and see the locals walking by in jeans and sweatshirts, you’re still not used to a warmer climate. You smile to yourself again. You do not miss the English weather one bit. Looking in your bag for your DSLR camera (you never leave your apartment without it). You carefully take off the lens disc and begin to set it up.

Lens correction off, Landscape mode on.

Luckily you did not have to do much adjusting as you’ve only been taking scenery pictures lately.

So making yourself comfortable on the green grass and closing your left eye, you look through the camera lens and focus your sights on two elegant cherry blossom trees ahead of you. It’s the middle of Spring, so the colours are brilliantly vivid and the blossom is in perfect bloom. But for some strange reason, before you click the shutter button, a particular face comes into your mind.

A certain someone with pink, blossom coloured hair.

You shake off the thought quickly. You’re thinking of that man now? Stop being so weird Eva, you probably won’t get the job and see him ever again.

So ignoring the face in your mind, you focus your open eye on the two trees. Once you adjust the focus manually with delicate fingers and take a deep intake of breath to avoid a shaky picture, you click the shutter. You zoom in, zoom out. Angle both portrait mode and landscape. The photos come out perfectly by the time you finish.

You can’t wait to get home and edit these on Photoshop. You just know with the right adjustments, the photo will look even better. Perhaps something you can add to your portfolio.

The next scene you focus your lens on is a full landscape view of the park. There aren’t many people in the park being three o’clock on a weekday, so the shot is mostly the greenery and blooming flowers.

You spend another half hour walking around the field, taking shots of every inch. You snap pictures of the tweeting birds in the trees, the strikingly bright Kaneshon flowers, you even take a snap of an urban looking view of the buildings surrounding the green space.

Once you feel satisfied enough, you decide to head back to your small apartment and spend the evening cooking a basic vegetable stir-fry meal, watching sitcoms on Netflix, and editing your photos in bed until you drift off into a pleasant sleep.

You wake up to the ringing sounds of your phone alarm the next morning. You made sure to be up early just in case the calligraphy studio calls. So hopping out of bed you stretch your arms and freshen up in the bathroom. You wonder to yourself what to do today. You could plan your next trip across the island to another scenic spot, as small as the island is there is still so much you haven’t explored yet. You still haven’t tried out a Hot Springs yet. Perhaps that is something you can do today?

So walking out the bathroom with a little bounce in your step, you pull your laptop out from under your bed and get to work on searching for a nearby Hot Springs. After some searching for a few minutes on the world wide web, you note the closest one is at least a twenty-minute drive. Well, all you have is a bike so that will at least take double that. You don’t think you have the stamina to cycle for forty minutes.

You decide to search for the best option for public transport instead. Two buses.

"Hm, that's not bad at all" you hum to yourself.

You make sure to screenshot every part of your route, before sending the pictures to your phone.

You decide to go just before midday, ensuring you have a large breakfast beforehand. You put your laptop away back under your bed when your phone suddenly starts ringing. Your heart immediately jumps into your mouth.

"Oh jheeze ok. This is it" you say nervously.

As expected you didn’t recognise the number on the front. So clearing your voice with a cough, you answer the phone.

“Hello, am I speaking to Eva Reader? This is Hina here at Sakurayashiki Calligraphy” The polite female voice speaks from the other line. You note she is talking in Japanese this time. Perhaps Sakurayashiki informed her of your Japanese? You wonder.

“Hello Hina yes you are, how are you?” You respond in Japanese.

“I am very well thank you, are you well?” She asks.

“Yes thank you”

“Perfect. I firstly want to say on behalf of Sakurayashiki-Sama, thank you for applying to the position, and taking the time to visit us here at Sakurayashiki Calligraphy”

“No, thank you for the opportunity. It was nice to meet Sakurayashiki and see his wonderful work” You respond.

“I am sure he will be happy to hear that,” She says. There is a little pause. Even though it's silent, you are sure you can hear your heavy heartbeat thumping in your ribcage.

“I also want to congratulate you on being accepted as Sakurayashiki-Sama’s new personal assistant. He was very happy with how your interview went, and you are exactly the candidate he was looking for!” She says brightly.

You don’t think it is possible to smile even wider. You want to squeal and jump up on the bed. But of course, you do your best to stay put. “Thank you so much! That’s fantastic I am so happy”

Hina can hear you grinning. “As you should be! You did very well, in fact, Sakurayashiki-Sama even mentioned how well put together your portfolio was, he was very impressed. He hasn’t seen such a range of artistic work from a candidate before”

“Oh really? That’s amazing! I am so happy he liked my work. Thank you again for this opportunity!” You exclaim with a grin still fixed to your face.

“You’re very welcome! Sakurayashiki-Sama informed me that you will be available to start right away, is that so?”

“Yes, that is” you respond.

“Perfect, would you be able to start tomorrow? It will be a shorter shift than your desired hours, from 10 am until two. And it will just be the two of you going through your everyday role and the contract. Does this time work for you?”

“Yes, that’s great. I read on the application that it is required to wear traditional Japanese clothing for the role. Would this be needed for tomorrow?” You ask. You suddenly think to yourself that you don’t have any kimono lying around… perhaps you should have invested in one as soon as you moved here.

“Yes if that is possible, though it's not vital. As long as you wear the required clothing on your official first day, which will be in two days. Also, the colours we are required to wear are darker than usual. Just nothing too bright, and no patterns!” Hina replies.

“Ok, that all sounds fine thank you! I haven’t brought a kimono before so this should be exciting. I will look forward to coming back tomorrow”

“Oh, you will do just fine! The shops are all very accommodating here, they will be able to help you pick one out. One last thing, please remember to bring a form of identification so we can scan it through our system”

“I’m sure they will everyone has been lovely so far. And I will do. Thank you again!” You say.

“No worries. Have a great day Eva and we will see you tomorrow!”

“Bye!” You say, before hanging up. You sit still on your bed for just a moment, taking in the phone call you just had moments ago. Then, with a beaming wide smile on your face, you leap up.

“Wooo!” You shout, jumping up and down in excitement. You can’t believe your first interview here on the island, you’ve managed to bag the job. And the very job which pays exceptionally well. You just can’t believe it.

Once you’ve calmed down from the excitement, you think to yourself. You are a little surprised you got it if you’re being honest with yourself. You’re fairly sure there must have been professional calligraphers going for the position. But they chose you. He chose you.

The sudden thought of the pink-haired man makes the butterflies in your stomach begin again. You know it’s only because he’s attractive, and you’re not going to lie to yourself anymore, you are a tiny bit excited to see him again tomorrow.

Well, he is your boss now. You assume you will be working closely with him.

“Ok enough Eva, no more swooning over your new boss” You scold to yourself out loud, shaking your head again.

You’re going to have to make a rule. No thinking lustfully over your boss for longer than… ten seconds a day. No too much, five seconds.

This will not be easy.

You can find a full list for each part linked here. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

#sk8 the infinity #sk8 anime #sk8 cherry blossom #kaoru sakurayashiki #kaoru x reader #kaoru sakurayashiki x reader #cherry blossom x reader #sk8 cherry #sk8 kaoru #kaoru sakurayashiki x y/n #reader insert #fanfiction #anime fanfic #fanfic #sk8 #fluff #angst #sk8 the infinity fic #sk8 fanfic

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jaythelittlegay · 4 years ago

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Photographer Megumi x Model Yuji AU

➳ CAPTURED HEART

Click, click, click.

"Alright, these seem pretty decent. You can take a break while I go through the pictures." Megumi informed the peachy haired model as he lazily made his way to the laptop, loosely gripping the camera from its sling strap as it slightly shook with each step blue eyed took.

"Thank you for your hard work, Megumi!" Yuji smiled at the photographer, his loud but cheerful voice echoing in the empty studio.

"Yeah, it's my job after all." Megumi reminded while he connected his camera to the laptop before he continued talking dryly, pressing his lips to a thin line to suppress the forming smile. "We still have photoshoot to do, so please make sure to be here within 45 minutes."

"Don't worry! I got this~" Yuji laughed, leaving the studio to get some food suitable for his diet.

He didn't really do dieting quite often since he worked out ever day to keep his body shape; but, this time was an exception, due to the criticism he received after the hiatus he had taken. Yuji was hurt by the comments he saw, but knowing that famous people had no time to relax from society's eyes, he shrugged it off. He didn't hide a lot from media as well; he was indeed one of the most honest and genuine models you could see. He had tons of articles about rescuing or helping people, another reason his popularity heightened. Which is why Megumi was take aback when he first saw Yuji, as he thought the model would drop the nice and polite act.

Megumi chose the pictures he liked, moving them to another folder to discuss it with the model once he came back. Megumi truly felt weird about the model: he actually had never taken pictures of models.

The young professional photographer was known for his photobooks consisting of unique and creative scenery, contemporary works as well as each of them had different concepts, usually related to feelings. He had gotten job requests from models all around the world only to reject them all that he didn't do portraits nor any photoshoot related to humans.

Models would fake the emotions Megumi wanted to portray in his photobook and he detested the idea of having an artificial expressions in his works. Until, Yuji had contacted him. He was going to reject him once he saw the email with Yuji's portfolio attached to it. He didn't even want to check the portfolio however the caramel eyed boy's email had caught him off guard. He apparently was a big fan of Megumi. He had asked whether it would be alright to, at least, watch Megumi work even if the photographer refused to work with him. Megumi got curious of the boy and the moment he checked his portfolio, he was stunned. For the first time, he found someone who could reflect the emotions. Those poses and expressions...just a touch away. Megumi could feel what Yuji did. The boy was a pure artwork in the photographer's eyes, although, he refused to say it out loud.

After their first photoshoot was published and got a lot of attention from the public, Megumi lost his interest in photography. It was confusing and weird. He couldn't create emotions through sceneries anymore; he felt useless as though everything had lost meaning. Yuji on the other hand would always contact him like a friend and blabber about random topics comfortably with him. It almost felt like one sided talk he was having with Megumi but both of them were fine with that. Unadmitted, Megumi enjoyed his company. His stories were intriguing for the latter. However, the lack of motivation in Megumi wasn't unnoticed. Yuji was so concerned about Megumi that he canceled the show he had and visited the sleep deprived Megumi, He forced the words out of Megumi's mouth, he had already created a soft spot in Megumi.

"You have to open up so we can find the cause, Fushiguro!"

"There's nothing to talk about, really." Megumi sighed, feeling guilty once he saw the concern filling Yuji's eyes.

"Are you sure? Are you being honest with me, right now?" Megumi stayed silent, not daring to stare at him. Yuji gripped his hands and pulled him closer, lifting his head by his chin with the other hand.

"Don't hide anything; your face is saying it all." The photographer felt his cheeks heating up as Yuji stared only and only at his deep ocean eyes and caressing his cheek.

"I'm sorry...I just can't find...any motivation to work. That's the problem." Megumi blurted, defeated by the puppy look Yuji f=gave him. Indeed Yuji already knew his place in Megumi's life.

"Hmm...must be hard on you...but don't you worry! I have an idea!" Yuji offered to model for him in order to find what was causing his distress.

Megumi's mood lightened up the moment they started the shooting. He was having fun taking his pictures, as Yuji radiated happiness through his angelic smile plastered on his face. Yuji was really talented with helping people; he was just like a medicine. He wasn't the smartest but his ideas always had a solution underneath them. Or maybe Megumi was exaggerating it. Either way his impact was really big on Megumi and people around him. A trait to be jealous of; not something Megumi wanted on himself but wanted Yuji to be al cheery next to him. He found it quite ridiculous but he couldn't hide the thought from his actions.

"You seem pretty happy and motivated to me!" Yuji laughed, looking through the pictures with Megumi.

"It's because you are with me, dummy." Megumi scoffed and slightly pushed Yuji.

Realizing Yuji was the only thing he wanted to capture with his precious camera, he only worked with him to a degree he released several photobooks which only included Yuji's pictures. Their bonds growing tighter and closer, Megumi felt as though he was incomplete without the model in his life.

"I think this picture looks good! What do you think?" Yuji exclaimed, pointing at a picture where his lips are curved upwards more than usual, shining like a sun.

"No." Megumi frowned, moving the picture to another folder.

"Eh?! Why?" Yuji asked, confused.

"Because I don't want to share how you shine when you smile with others. This is mine." Megumi proudly said, forgetting about who was next to him.

"Err, I mean y-you don't look...good here...haha..." Megumi raised his voice as he realized what he had said but it was too late to erase the smug smirk plastered on the model's face.

"Well, I'm all yours." Yuji open his arms, as if proving his own point before embracing Megumi, refusing to let go but the photographer didn't protest, instead, he came closer and hugged him back.

They never confessed any feelings, just to keep whatever relationship they had, scared of being rejected or maybe they were already aware of what was going on.

Megumi and Yuji would visit each other frequently, meeting in either of their houses, Megumi bringing him lunch during his breaks, partying and going on dates without admitting it was a date; otherwise why would you buy flowers for a friend?

Megumi smiled at the memories flooding at the back of his head as he sighed, checking the time; Yuji was, again, late. Megumi tilted his head once he heard the door being unlocked. He sighed and stood up, approaching the door.

"It's been an hour and a half. Any excuses?" Megumi sternly said, trying to hide his smile as he waited for another adventure that happen while Yuji was on his way. He would always find a person to help and prioritize it more than his actual job. He would totally forget about it and if his manager got mad at him he would defend himself by saying 'They needed my help.'

"Well...not really, hehe sorry." Yuji awkwardly chuckled, scratching the back of his head with his right hand and hiding the left behind his body.

"What was it this time, then?" Megumi watched the boy push him inside and kick the door shut as he moved closer to him.

"It's your birthday, Megumi." Yuji smiled at the photographer who had forgotten about it. Yuji handed Megumi the blue roses and wrapped the blue yang necklace around Megumi's neck as Yuji was already wearing the yin on his own neck. He continued:

"Aside from giving you a gift and eating a cake, how about I take you on an actual date to make us official?" Yuji pulled frozen photographer closer to himself by the waist, locking lips. He held him firmly yet so gentle as if he was scared to break the latter. Megumi wrapped his hands around Yuji's neck and kissed him back, tears of joy staining his porcelain face. Megumi opened his mouth giving enough space for the model to get in. Yuji couldn't get enough of the soft cloudy lips biting his, leaving traces of pleasure. Time lost its meaning for them, they were unable to see anything but themselves. Nothing mattered if they could be together in this world. But, they had to break their affectionate kiss once they were both out of breath.

"Sure, why not?" Megumi laughed, accepting the offer as he hugged Yuji one more time.

posted this on ao3 but also wanted to share it here! enjoy :)

#jujtsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fushiguro #yuji #jjk megumi #jjk anime #itadori yuuji #itafushi #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen imagines #itadori x fushiguro #itadori yuji x fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen au #jjk au #jjkdaily

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seacottons · 4 years ago

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uni!au with ateez — [ part one ]

—[ san - performing arts ]

ironically, you met when you helped him after a taller male shoved him down whilst in a heated argument.

he burst out laughing when you asked if he was okay.

“don’t worry, we’re just practicing our lines!”

you quickly glanced up at the building and grimaced once taking sight of the gleaming silver ‘performing arts building’ plaque.

of course.

to say you were embarrassed was only scratching the surface.

you had no regrets, because the incident was the catalyst that formed your friendship and eventual relationship.

will never let you live that moment down.

“remember when you tried to save me from mingi?”

“i thought we promised not to bring that up again-”

“why can’t i? i was saved by an angel that day?”

san invites you to both his dance and theatre shows.

will appear to be very professional on stage, but you catch his eyes frantically darting to the crowd to try and spot you.

and once he does, he will repeatedly smile and wink in your direction.

you’re always early, so you manage to snag a seat in either front two rows.

likes when you bring him bouquets as a congratulation gift after his performances.

gets very loud backstage just to let everyone know you bought him a gift.

a huge show-off.

is very good at facial expressions.

you fall for every time he pretends he’s crying or hurt when you don’t give him attention.

he will imitate different characters and repeat after actors while you two watch movies together.

“it sounded sexier when i said it, right (y/n)?”

is a very clingy cuddle bug.

and a leech.

will always have his arms around you while walking at campus.

loves to give you back hugs.

is the type to wait outside for you until you finish class.

and takes you to the cafeteria afterwards for lunch.

embarrasses you in said cafeteria by spinning the lunch tray while waiting in line.

also likes to spin your phone just to freak you out.

also the type to excitedly text you about the donuts and coffee they’re giving away at the library’s breezeway.

likes to refer to you as ‘angel’.

will beg you join the different clubs he’s in.

and then brag about you to the others once you do.

will hype your choice of attire even if he’s already seen you earlier that day.

the type to also sneak you a latte in the middle of your class.

also the type to sneak in with you during your auditorium classes.

you regret it sometimes because he leaves no room for you to pay attention to your professor.

often times, so much so that you have to lightly pinch his side in protest.

“do you want me to fail this class?”

he likes to participate in the many events held at campus.

everyone knows him.

challenges you to dance offs in the middle of campus.

you refuse and push forward a startled mingi instead.

“mingi wants to have a turn this time!”

also likes to lay in your arms whilst you play with his hair.

“were you a cat in your previous life?”

he will then proceed to meow in your ear.

“i’ll take that as a yes.”

—[ hongjoong - fashion design ]

dating him would consist of always admiring his new projects.

supplying him with unhealthy amounts of coffee.

trying out new pieces he made.

offering to carry his overly large portfolio binder sometimes.

sitting down and listening to him rant about how his roomates fail to wash clothes properly.

he has a guide taped to the washing machine with the different symbols of clothing labels.

“no, san, you can’t use shampoo as detergent.”

“but seonghwa finished all the detergent!”

using seonghwa’s lint rollers to remove all the fabric fibers stuck on hongjoong’s clothes.

you scold him while cleaning the bleeding scratches on his fingers from his sewing needles and pins.

“don’t worry, it’s nothing i can’t handle.”

“but i don’t like seeing you get hurt, you bum.”

you bought him strawberry bandaids because he thought they were cute.

sometimes, when he has time, he’ll custom make clothes just for you.

he insists on having multiple matching outfits.

will ask you to model his work for his social media page.

thinks you look best in skirts.

you’ll be the source of comfort during presentation week.

he’ll be a wreck whilst making a new collection.

but you’re always there to pick him back up.

most of the time, you’re the source of his inspiration as well.

you insist he shouldn’t sit for hours writing essays or sketching numerous ideas for future work.

but he’s stubborn as a mule.

nights with him include binge watching fashion shows or cute cartoons.

or painting your nails.

you both enjoy coffee dates when you have time.

he tells you he wants to open a fashion line one day.

you’re trying to stand still as he plucks numerous pins into the dress you’re trying on.

“what do you think i should call it?”

“hj couture? does that sound too basic?”

he pauses momentarily before spooling the leftover red thread.

“(y/n). i’ll call the line (y/n).”

—[ wooyoung - culinary arts ]

invites you to his dorm and cooks for you.

his apartment always smells of warm spices and comforting meals.

pretends his roommates’ teasing doesn’t affect him, but the tips of ears always glow red.

will always bring over leftovers he made in class.

“i just thought you wanted to try this mille feuille.”

“which one is better? the salted rosemary loaf or the oregano and olive oil one?”

loves to bake and cook with you.

will make your birthday cake from scratch and will go all out decorating it.

has an annoying habit of taking pictures of you mid-bite.

“delete that right now.”

“but babe, you look so cute.”

“jung wooyoung!”

will wrestle with you as you attempt to take his phone away.

“okay, look! i swear i’ll delete it!”

he saves it in a hidden folder.

calls you his ‘cupcake’ or ‘sugarplum’.

teases you nonstop when you fail at something in the kitchen.

“babe! no! gentle folds! you pulverized those poor blueberries!”

“but the instructions say to mix!”

“the dough isn’t supposed to be blue!”

he’ll whine nonstop about how much he hates baking bread in class.

“do you know how abnoxiously long the fermentation process is!? i’m losing my mind.”

will wave and yell your name to catch your attention if he spots you nearby at campus.

you hear him every time.

he’s just that loud.

drags you to new restaurants just so you can rate them with him.

also drags you to go cutlery shopping.

accidentally dropped a plate in the store.

and when the employee came sauntering in the aisle suspiciously-

“(y/n) did it.”

once gave you food poisoning by accident.

you never wanted to eat scallops again.

you don’t mind his hands smelling like garlic or ginger most of the time.

or stained with spices.

“turmeric is a bitch.”

“woo, who wears white while cooking with turmeric anyway?”

will show off and brag about his knife skills.

demands to race with you to see who can chop the vegetables the quickest.

“you’re going down, (y/n).”

“uh- i don’t think i ever stood a chance to begin with.”

he lets you win sometimes though.

will beg you to visit him at his part time job at the cute cafe not too far by.

you always try to when you have the time.

and when he finds out you went to the rival cafe across the street one day..

“on a scale of 10 to 10, how bad is kang yeosang’s cooking?”

“what?”

“answer the question, (y/n).”

“woo, it’s 3 a.m.”

the next day, you explained that you were merely invited by your classmates to that particular cafe because one of them was a former employee there.

he childishly ignored you with crossed arms and a subtle pout.

“your jajangmyeon is much better. they didn’t even like the food there!”

he finally perks up with a large smile.

“wait, really?”

you think he looks endearing with his apron and chef’s hat.

will post cheesy captioned pictures of you after serving you delicately decorated plates of food.

‘two delicious meals for tonight, hehe.’

“gross. did you really have to say that?”

—[ jongho - kinesiology ]

you met him at the university gym and instantly clicked.

found yourself months later agreeing to go out with him.

a giant goofball.

sometimes makes faces at you while you exercise across the gym.

makes sure you watch him when he deadlifts.

loves when you hype him up.

opens all the jars for you.

and cuts all the fruit for you.

“why use a knife when you have my hands, love?”

you nearly choked on your saliva when he punched open the watermelon.

“can we ever just have a perfectly sliced watermelon!?”

“no- unless i break my arm one day.”

insists you jog with him around campus early in the morning.

likes to practice wrapping elastic tape on you.

you own half of his hoodies.

takes you to watch basketball matches.

then challenges you to a match when you go on dates to the park.

will persistently tease you about your poor aim.

and will absolutely not let you have the ball for more than a few seconds.

“stop cheating!”

“i’m not cheating! you just suck!”

joined you in some of your elective classes.

will also wear sleeveless shirts because he knows how flustered you get while his sculpted muscles are on display.

“what did professor kim just say?”

“what?” you tore your gaze from his biceps to glance at his face.

“are you staring at my arms again?” he snickers.

“no,” you say too quickly, face heating quite considerably.

despite his teasing, he’ll always baby you and take care of your needs.

has the cutest gummy smile.

you like to call him your gummy bear.

he hated the name at first, but grew to accept it over time.

likes to randomly pick you up.

sometimes will throw you over his shoulder.

has a habit of patting your thighs.

sometimes asks you to sit on his back while he does push-ups.

your eye bulged at the sight of a mop of ruby hair.

“don’t say anything.”

“you like apples so much you dyed your hair red?”

“i lost a bet.”

“you look cute though.”

you tugged at his tresses, smiling as you admired the shade against his tanned skin.

“baby?” you brushed his bangs away to display his forehead.

“hm?”

“you’re the apple of my eye.”

“i’m-,” he sucked on his teeth and pursed his lips, face scrunching in a mock grimace, “i’m going to throw up.”

402 notes · View notes

amerrierworld · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss Her For Me (pt 3)

for anon: Kiss Her For Me pt 3?

Summary: Charlie appears at one of Therese’s gallery showings and Carol insists she pose for the photographer’s portfolio.

Characters: Carol x Therese x OC

Word Count: 2,801

Warnings: SMUT F/F/F threesome :)

The giant crown of red hair was unmistakable across the gallery, and Therese gasped audibly as she recognized the woman in the distance. Carol had been distracted by looking at one of her framed prints and the glass of champagne in her hands, so she was startled when Therese’s grip in her hand tightened until her fingers hurt.

“What is it, angel?” Carol asked, worried that Richard or some stupid oaf from Therese’s past had shown up.

“Look, Carol, over there,” Therese whispered, nodding to where she was looking.

Carol’s ruby lips pulled into a sly smile as she also recognized Charlotte standing by one of Therese’s larger photos; a colourful landscape from one of their trips together.

“How is she here?” Therese spluttered. They hadn’t seen Charlie since their last intimate night, and hadn’t had time to even think about going to Jackie’s strip club.

“I have a feeling our dear Abigail has something to do with it,” Carol replied before tugging Therese along as she walked in Charlie’s direction. “Come on, it’s unfitting for the host not to welcome all guests.”

Charlie recognized them from afar before either woman said anything, and she rushed over, heels tapping the floor, before wrapping each of them in a warm hug.

“Therese! You never told me you were so talented! My goodness, Carol, where do you find them?”

Carol barked out a laugh and gave Charlie a warm kiss on the cheek, “I’m so happy to see you here, Charlotte. How did you know about Therese’s showing?”

“Oh, Abby, of course. Well, technically Jackie, but it’s basically like talking to the same person.”

All three of them agreed on that, before Therese asked her what she had been enjoying so far, nerves slowly dissipating as their conversation carried on.

“I must say- the portraits you’ve done? Marvellous!” Charlie gestured a little further away from them where Therese had a small cluster of intimate portraits of various models.

“If I had the money I’d ask you for a million photos, really! I desperately need new headshots, and what you manage to capture is just perfect.”

Therese frowned and said, “Oh, you wouldn’t have to pay me. I just like taking photos of people.”

“No- no, absolutely not. Work like this should be paid for, I don’t want to get away with it for free just because we’re... acquainted.”

Carol rolled her eyes lovingly and rubbed her thumb over Therese’s knuckles.

“Let Therese take some photos of you, Charlie. You’re beautiful and photogenic. I’m sure something could be... arranged between us, right angel?”

Therese flushed a bright red, and Charlie smiled from ear-to-ear,

“Only if you’d be a part of that arrangement, Carol.”

“Of course,” Carol grinned, bringing Therese’s hand up to her lips, “we come as a package deal.”

Charlotte appeared in a set of mom jeans and a giant knitted sweater that nearly slipped off of her slim shoulders. Therese coughed and felt herself nearly choke at the sight of her, and Carol chuckled, rubbing her back.

“Hey Carol,” Charlotte said warmly, waving at the blonde. In response, Carol tugged her close by the arm and kissed her firmly on the mouth. If Therese hadn’t been frozen in awe she would have raised her camera to take a picture.

“Is that what you’re planning to wear?” Therese asked, voice timid. She hadn’t counted on Charlie to look so cozy; lots of her looks had been fitted, seductive and feline thus far.

“Oh, no,” Charlie replied cheekily. “Actually, I wasn’t planning on wearing anything at all.”

Carol barked a laugh at Therese, whose mouth dropped open.

“You’ve done nude portraits before, haven’t you, angel?” Carol asked, sensing Therese’s nerves.

“Well, yes, but- I’ve never-” I’ve never been so aroused by a model I’m shooting... except for Carol.

“Never photographed a redhead?” Charlotte winked, and adored the way Therese spluttered defensively.

“I’ll show you where to drop your stuff. Let her get her cameras and doohickies set up,” Carol said, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s waist. She winked at the brunette before heading down the narrow hall and Therese did take a photo this time of the two women as they walked away. The lighting wasn’t right, and they were moving so there was bound to be blurriness, but this wasn’t for her portfolio. This was for her.

Once in the changing room, Carol helped Charlie undress, folding her clothes neatly.

“This is a nice sweater,” she commented, rubbing her thumb over the soft grey material.

“Thanks,” Charlie chortled, applying a bit of gloss in the mirror. “It’s thrifted, actually. Do you work in the studio with Therese?”

“Oh, no,” Carol smiled, “I work at a furniture store a bit further in the city. But I figured our Therese might want some extra hands on deck considering she can get so.. tense.”

The redhead and blonde laughed gleefully at the memory of their bold yet shy Therese, the atmosphere amicable between them.

Carol held out a robe for Charlie to wear between shots, but the younger woman took her time in sauntering over to her, nude as the day she was born.

She reached past the bathrobe and fiddled with the collar on Carol’s blouse, making the blonde flush with heat as she bit her lip,

“You should pose with me,” she grinned. “As a treat for our Therese.”

Carol chuckled, “you young women are so bold sometimes. I’m far too ancient to pose for a camera nude.”

“I disagree,” Charlie hummed, before slipping on the robe and heading out again to the main studio space.

A large white backdrop was lit with a variety of coloured lights. Therese was playing with the settings, wondering if she should make it a dramatic, colourful portrait set-up, or something more clean and sharp.

She looked up at the sound of the two women approaching, and she had undone the top two buttons on her dress shirt.

“Where do you want me?” Charlie said, swaying her hips as she approached the photographer. Therese smiled, dimples highlighted in the lighting, and took Charlie’s hand with confidence.

Carol took a seat behind the tripod holding the camera, watching as Therese arranged the redhead on the ground by the backdrop. She guided her arm; draped her fingers over her knee, positioned her feet and knees with a professional touch, and Carol felt somehow heated at the sight of her becoming so in control.

“Let’s start with the robe on, first,” Therese suggested, heading towards where Carol was and fiddling one more time with the lights.

“Not prepared for the full show yet?” Charlotte teased, relaxing into the pose Therese had put her in.

“I just wanna give you a good introduction before we get there,” the brunette replied without hesitation and Carol smiled.

Therese snapped a few shots, enjoying her photography skills and the natural flair she had for directing Charlie’s poses. With every new pose, the robe slipped off a little more, and a bit more skin was revealed. The freckles were highlighted in the colours Therese chose, and her bright blue eyes really picked up on the photos.

Then, Therese told Carol to get some props, specifically the pale sheets and the small, white armchair with golden edges. When she returned, Charlie was fully nude, barely holding the robe against her chest, nipples peaking teasingly just by the edge of the fabric. Her legs, nimble and flexible, were stretched and folded in front of her, almost swan-like.

She let Carol and Therese position the chair and draped her in the sheet, letting it slip off her shoulders, letting her leg peek through below, letting the valley of her breasts be shadowed dramatically as she leaned back and arched her whole body atop of the chair.

“Fuck,” Therese breathed as she stepped back. Carol could practically hear her heartbeat hammering, and the only sound for a while was the camera clicking and the shutter going off.

“It feels like you two have just been pampering me,” Charlie laughed, her head tossed back as Carol raked her hands through the curls to tame it a little. She wasn’t a professional assistant at all, didn’t know how to do hair or makeup, but she listened to Therese, and that seemed to satisfy everyone involved.

“Don’t you think Carol’s been working really hard, Therese?” Charlie asked, her blue eyes flickering over to the blonde, who’s hand stilled in her hair. “Maybe she should pose with me. It’s only fair. Look how beautiful she is.”

Therese stopped shooting for a moment, and across the studio, grey eyes met green, and something fierce sparked between the two of them.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Therese said, her voice uncharacteristically husky, “Carol?”

“As long as this doesn’t land on the front page of the New York Times,” Carol teased, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

“Just the front page of our bedroom portfolio,” Therese grinned. Charlie gaped,

“You said you never would pose nude,” she said to Carol, accusingly.

“Never in such a professional space,” Carol replied, “and definitely not alongside someone else.”

“But I’m the exception?” Charlie pushed out her bottom lip lovingly and Carol smiled, but Therese was the one who replied,

“Always.”

Then Charlie began helping Carol undress, just like the blonde had done before, and also because Carol was nearly frozen with her mind racing. This beautiful woman, undressing her, as her lover stood by with a camera and a keen eye, ready to capture every moment, every touch, every kiss-

“Kiss her for me,” Therese ordered with a quiet mumble, raising the camera, “it’ll help relax her.”

“Now who’s tense, hm?” Charlotte said, before kissing Carol on the cheek. Her blouse was entirely unbuttoned, revealing a creamy lace bra.

“What would you like, dear Therese?” Charlie asked, turning towards the photographer, the sheet forgotten by her feet.

“Act as if the camera isn’t here,” Therese suggested, “show her a good time. But not too good.”

Carol groaned, rendered speechless as the redhead raised her up and slipped the blouse off for her. Then she sat Carol down in the chair, shimmied her skirt off for her so she was only in her undergarments, and Charlie entirely nude. She left Carol’s blood-red heels on.

Therese was shuffling around, snapping photos as Charlie began rocking and swaying in rhythm atop of Carol’s lap. Carol’s hands gripped her hips, gently at first, but then the dominant fire came back to her. Once she got used to the glaring lights, the new environment of the studio, and the softness of Charlie’s skin so close to hers now, her grip tightened and her mind regained its laser-focus during sex.

Charlie moved off of her lap, pushed between her legs, and without hesitation pressed her tongue against Carol’s panties. And Therese was there, instantly, to catch the awed, aroused look on Carol’s face as the tongue began rolling against her clothed cunt. Her hair tumbled back as she let out a shaken groan, and Therese smirked while blushing as her camera clicked once, twice, thrice.

She got a closeup of Carol’s hand, twisting in Charlie’s hand. Carol’s leg swinging over Charlie’s shoulder with her heel still on, the sheen of sweat collecting in the valley of her still-covered breasts, the arch of Charlie’s back as she licked and teased the older woman.

This is what she loved, Therese realized, more than anything. The pure unbridled adoration and lust, the beauty of two women lost in pleasure. Whether she was witnessing or experiencing it, there was something so incredibly timeless about it that she stopped for a moment in photographing, and just watched.

Carol’s breath was hitching, and her eyes were rolling back, and her voice was raising in colourful curses, but Charlie pulled away just as her legs began to tremble.

“I remember what you said, last time,” Charlie purred, kissing her knee. That only Therese would make her cum.

“Oh, you delightful vixen,” Carol groaned, pulling her up. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Therese knew that teasing Carol would only come to bite you in the ass. Because if Carol couldn’t have her orgasm, she’d go above and beyond to have you begging for her instead.

And that’s how Charlie ended up on Carol’s lap again, her front against her back, legs spread over the armrests and Carol’s hand working vigorously against her swollen cunt. The redhead cried out, breathing heavily, and Carol’s other hand fisted in her mass of curls, pulling her head back so she could bite the fair, freckled skin of her neck.

Though her hands were sweating, Therese would not miss out on this image. The camera came back up and she captured the very moment that Charlie tumbled over the edge, lipgloss faint and smudged, her eyes open and desperate. She stared right into the camera, and Therese visibly shivered.

Charlie fell limp in Carol’s arms, the older woman holding her gently.

And then, “Therese.. I think it’s your turn. You’ve been waiting like such a good girl for a while now.”

“Is that card not full yet, with how many photos you’ve been taking?” Charlie added.

The two women quickly stripped the brunette of her clothes, her slim, lithe body practically glowing in the studio lights. Carol took her time to caress her skin like she always did, which Charlie took advantage of and struck a few million-dollar-prize photos of the two lovers. Therese didn’t know how experienced she would be with her camera, but she supposed everyone could click a button and take a photo. With Carol’s mouth swirling around her nipple, she was far too distracted to care.

Then a smaller hand came to rest between her legs, and Charlie was next to her. They traded places from before, so now Therese was in the chair and Charlie hovering over her again.

The redhead pulled one of Therese’s legs over her shoulder, stretching her delightfully as she sat back in the chair, and worked her fingers against her clit until she was wet enough to push inside. Then, as Carol looked on in wonder, she used the momentum of her hips to drive her fingers deep, kissing the brunette with abandon as she fucked her until the chair starting moving backwards from the motions.

Carol took a few photos, knowing they wouldn’t be as good as Therese’s but wanting to remember this nonetheless. Charlie’s hair tumbled down and was lit like fire in the lights.

There wasn’t a single ounce of regret in Carol’s body as she watched Therese cum and tremble in the redhead’s arms, her hand gripping the armrests until her knuckles turned white.

Charlie continued rutting against Therese, enjoying the slow motions and Therese’s soft groans. Every move still carried a shiver of pleasure for the two of them as Therese basked in the afterglow of her orgasm.

“C-Carol,” she breathed. Carol looked up, intensely, but Therese’s eyes were shut tightly. She then leaned over and whispered something in Charlie’s ear who lit up and immediately moved off of Therese’s body.

Carol cautiously walked over to the chair and Therese pulled her down for a kiss before pulling her to straddle one of her thighs.

Charlie was there immediately, facing their profiles and angled view with the camera. Carol looked a little shy- a little nervous, but Therese kissed her again and again, and then guided the blonde’s own hand down to her cunt that was moving over Therese’s slim thigh in desperation.

“Oh-,” she said in realization. Charlie grinned behind the camera, and clicked the button.

Carol shook, moving like an animal, her head tossing back, and then pressing into Therese’s neck, her body writhing until she spilled all over her young lover.

The last photo was that of the blonde and brunette embraced in the warm light, nude and sweaty, and perfect. Charlotte looked at it with gleeful smugness, thinking it must be the best photo out of the bunch.

After a few moments, Carol and Therese untangled and the three women helped one another get dressed.

“How about a meal? I’m starving after all that.. exercise,” Charlotte suggested, “plus it’s the least I can do. If you won’t let me pay for this session, let me buy us takeout, at least.”

“Oh, alright,” Therese waved her hand, blushing but smiling. Carol had wound her arm around her middle and kissed her cheek as they headed out of the studio.

“Best put that camera away, angel,” Carol suggested as they got outside. Therese was flicking through the photos that had just been taken, and she blushed once she realized she probably shouldn’t look at those in public. She’d savour them later, in bed with Carol, and add them to their collection.

taglist: @fand0m-obsess3d-g33k @the-obscurity

#carol #carol aird #carol movie #carol fanfiction #carol & therese #cate blanchett #rooney mara #therese #therese belivet #Carol Aird x Therese Belivet #carol aird/therese belivet #oc #carol x therese x oc #f/f/f #wlw #lgbt #merry writes #god i'm so gay #the price of salt

49 notes · View notes

teamhook · 4 years ago

Photo

Hello! Finally and update!! I want to thank everyone for their patience, the @captainswanmoviemarathon, the Discord shipmates, and my lovely Beta @ultraluckycatnd and my talented artist @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713

|AO3|

|FFN|

Emma had been so disappointed after her idea was shot down. It had been a long day at work, so she only stops to get a quick snack at a 24-hour diner before heading to get some sleep. She opens the door to the hotel room she has rented for the week only to find it tossed. Her heart sinks as she runs to check for the money she had been saving to rent an apartment. The money was gone, all of it. They didn’t leave a single dollar behind. Her eyes water as she wonders what the hell she is going to do now?

Killian finally arrives home after a small detour. He is parking his motorcycle when he notices a body huddled on his steps. He removes his helmet and walks slowly to his door. The hoodie falls from the head revealing golden hair. Emma.

“Swan, is everything okay?” Killian asks as he helps her to her feet and opens the door to the apartment.

Emma sniffles as she follows close behind. She still doesn’t know why she came here. Lies. He is her closest friend, her only friend.

“Sit down, make yourself comfortable. How about a drink?” Killian asks as he pours a drink for himself and one for her.

“Yeah, I really need one.” Emma takes the offered drink and bottoms it.

Killian asks, “Do you need anything else? Swan, how can I help?”

Emma’s tears run down her face.

Bloody hell, he made her cry. “I’m sorry, lass, can you tell me what happened?”

“Someone went into my room and robbed me. I talked to the manager but he said they weren’t responsible. That I should have taken the money with me or hid it better,” Emma says. She can’t seem to stop crying.

“It’s going to be fine,” Kilian says and adds rapidly, “you can stay here.” The words are out of his mouth before he can think about it. Milah is going to kill him if she ever comes home.

“Really?” Her hopeful green eyes devoid of tears confirm this is a really good idea. “Aye, you can stay here.”

“I promise it won’t be for long, one night tops. I just need to sleep on it and figure some things out,” she smiles.

After a few drinks and a few arguments on who should take the bed, Emma is tucked in, stretched out on the daybed he has as a couch. He plays a song on the piano as she relaxes for the night.

She smiles, the music very soothing. “Killian, that is beautiful. Who wrote it?”

He smiles back. “I did.”

“That is really, really good. Do you have more?” she asks as she sits up.

“Aye, but they’re not ready to be heard,” he says as he finishes the song.

“Killian, why did you leave Boston?”

“Emma, why did you leave Maine?”

She sighs. “Well, because it didn’t feel like home anymore, and I wanted to follow my dreams.”

He smiled. “Exactly.”

“Killian, I’m really happy I don’t have to be alone tonight,” Emma said as she yawned.

“Get some sleep, love,” Killian says as he leaves the piano and closes the door to his room.

The next day, the sound of rain hitting the window wakes him up. The smell of bacon mixed with the scent of fresh-brewed coffee hits him and for a second, he is startled because he is the one that normally makes breakfast; Milah didn’t like to cook. He gets up and makes sure he is presentable.

The vision that greets him is perfect. He shakes his head as he approaches his guest. He scratches behind his ear when he notices her clothes, or lack of. She is lost in what she is doing to notice him ogling her as she simply wears a long, sleeveless shirt that barely covers her arse, her long legs on display. He was mesmerized for a minute, then clears his throat to get her attention. “Good morning, love.”

“Oh, good morning. I hope you don’t mind. It’s the least I can do,” she says, smiling.

Killian returns her smile. “It smells delicious.”

“How do you like your coffee?” she asks as she pours the liquid.

“Black, like my soul,” he answers as he takes a seat.

They start eating their food while enjoying some small talk.

Emma’s eyes drift around the room and land on one of the pictured frames. “She’s very pretty, your sister?”

Killian looks up from his food. He doesn’t need to figure out which photo she’s talking about. “Ah, that would be Milah, my fiance.”

“Wait a minute, you’re straight?” Emma stands.

“What, you thought I was gay?” Killian asks.

“Yeah, I mean you wear more eyeliner than I do. You own a daybed. What kind of guy owns one?” Emma states.

“In my defense, the eyeliner is a very straight look. Cora loves it and it works at the club,” he shrugs. “The daybed was Milah’s idea.”

“I should really put some pants on.” Emma goes to her bag to look for some jeans to put on.

“That’s probably a good idea.” He pouts as he watches her pulling on her pants.

“So where is she, your fiance?” Emma wonders.

“She’s in New York doing a play,” Killian says as he clears off the table.

“Well, since you’re not only straight but engaged, it is really weird I came to you. I should leave. I’m sorry I came here,” Emma says.

“Swan, you don’t have to go.”

“Killian, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Emma, it’s pouring outside.” He blocks the front door to prevent her from leaving.

“It’s okay, I got a plan. Could you please get the door for me?” Emma says, determinedly.

He hesitantly opens the door.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, love.”

“See you at the club.”

She steps outside, the rain coming down hard and the thundering is loud. She grabs a newspaper from the wooden chair next to the door, covers her head, and walks down the steps.

Killian looks out of his window, sighing. Bloody hell. Emma looks like a wet cat doing a poor job at staying dry. He runs out and before Emma can object, he picks her up bridal style and turns back to his place. They’re both drenched once they’re back inside.

Emma screams as soon as he puts her down. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You have nowhere to go, Swan. I have an empty couch.”

“It's just water. A little water never hurt anyone.”

“Swan, it’s a lot more than a little water, it’s pouring.”

“Killian, you’ve done enough.”

“I don’t care what you bloody say. You’re going to stay here for a few more days.” Knowing that she isn’t going to win this argument, Emma nods her agreement.

The phone rings and he smiles as he answers., “Hello, Milah. That sounds great.” He walks to his room and closes the door.

Days later at the club, the restroom is quiet until the sound of someone throwing up shatters the illusion. Cora looks underneath the stall door to see who has dared break her out of her spell. One look of the glass heels tells her she knows who it is. “Ashley, darling are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” she sniffles as she comes out of the stall.

Cora studies the girl in front of her and sighs. “Tell me you don’t have the flu.”

Ashley starts sobbing. “No, I’m pregnant.”

“Have you told Sean?”

“I haven’t, I’ve been so scared. What if he doesn’t want it? What am I going to do?” Ashley starts rambling.

“We will figure it out, but you have to tell him,” Cora says, trying to comfort the poor girl.

“Okay.” Ashley gives her boss a weak smile.

Emma continues to practice the dance routines every free moment she has because she knows a chance will come up. Her parents had always told her to have hope; that’s the only reason she is following her dream. For now, she will be the best waitress the club has ever seen.

Killian had proven to be such a good friend because he was letting her stay with him for a couple of weeks. The only problem with that is that she is enjoying his company too much. He is sweet and funny. Some days, she had to remind herself that he was taken because she was starting to yearn for something that couldn’t be.

Days later after Ashley's revelation, Cora decides to be prepared. Henry and Cora hold tryouts for a new dancer.

Emma walks in to find the stage full of potential candidates. Music is heard throughout the club; high kicks flying, hips gyrating to the music, hair flowing with each head twirl, all followed with a spiral roll into a final fan kick.

After the girls are dismissed, Cora turns to Henry with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t love any of them. Where did all the best dancers go?” she sighs.

Henry is flipping through the portfolios for the club’s best match. He turns his attention to Cora and smiles. “They’re all Dancing with the Stars.”

The blaring of sexy music disrupts their conversation. They turn to the stage to find Emma moving her hips sensually to the music, her head flipping right and left. She is moving as if her life depends on it. Sadly she is putting her all into an unappreciated display until her intended audience dismisses her with barely a glance in her direction, followed by a disgusted flick of her wrist, halting her dance before it really even gets started.

Cora cuts the music off and starts to walk away.

“Wait a minute! I can do this, just tell me what you want!” Emma’s panicked scream halts Cora’s movement.

“It’s really sweet that you think you can. I know I don’t want someone that thinks auditioning for me is the same as a common strip club. All my dancers are professionals. What was that?” Cora said as she placed her hands on her hips.

“I know all the dance routines. I have practiced them in my spare time.”

“You have to make me believe that you belong on that stage and that no one will take it from you.”

“Alright, which number do you want to see?”

Cora stares at Emma. “You know all the numbers? Okay. Merlin, play Wagon Wheel Watusi.”

Zee, Ashley, and Tiana arrive just in time to see the audition.

The music starts and Emma moves as if her life depends on it. She twirls, shimmies her breasts, and when the music ends she stands breathless waiting for the verdict.

Cora and Henry are talking in whispers.

“You were off the last half,” Cora finally says.

“I can do better. I’ll practice every single free moment I have. I really want this. Please, I know I can do this. Didn’t anyone ever give you a chance?”

“Fine! You’ve got the job.”

Emma jumps up and down in excitement while several things happen at once.

Cora and Henry share a look.

Ashley claps excitedly.

Zee turns to Ashley. “You know she’s replacing you, right?”

Henry walks up to Emma. “Meet me in the dressing room in five minutes.”

The girls leave for lunch.

Before she can head to the dressing room, loud claps catch Emma’s attention.

Killian meets her eye and smiles. “Congratulations, love.”

“With my raise, I will be off of your couch before you know it!” She squeals in excitement as she rushes to the dressing room.

She misses the disappointment on his face.

Tag List:

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#Captain Swan #cs ff #CSMM #Captain Swan Movie Marathon #CSMM20

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tmntgirlie · 4 years ago

Text

Saviors in a Half Shell 5

“Let me get this straight. You guys were the ones who really saved the city? Twice?”

The commotion had made national news headlines for weeks years ago. The most recent occurrence was five years ago, way before Y/N had made her way to the city.

It was the sort of thing that led to many online conspiracy theories, but none of them had any solid evidence. The media led people to believe it was a man named Vernon Fenwick, who had subsequently called himself ‘the Falcon’.

How obnoxious.

“We knew we wouldn’t be accepted by the general public, and he just so happened to be working with us- it made sense,” Leonardo shrugged.

“People are so gullible,” she snorted. She shook her head. “Even I had a feeling he couldn’t have taken that thing down without help. I mean, one man? Unless it was dumb luck. I’m still trying to understand why someone wants to take over a city. A single city. What, turn it into his kingdom? He knows there are bigger and better cities out there, right?”

“Bigger and better? Oh, man! We have been so busy saving this city, we haven’t been able to finish our hip-hop Christmas album!” Mikey couldn’t have sounded more pitiful.

Y/N laughed. “I’d love to hear you guys try to rap Silent Night. Ninjas and all.”

Right as Michelangelo opened his mouth to give her a proper demonstration, he was pushed over by his red-banded brother.

“Someone’s a party pooper.”

“I just spared your eardrums,” Raph said, looking quite pleased with himself.

“What a sweetheart,” Y/N said through a snort. These guys were definitely brothers, the way they treated each other.

“Speaking of sweethearts,” Mikey grinned. “What are you going to do now? Now that you know us and all. You gonna stay here for good?”

“Mikey-” Raph growled.

Y/N just shook her head. “I have an apartment in Brooklyn I should probably get back to at some point. And a job.”

“Do you think you’re ready to get back to all that?” Leonardo asked her quietly. He still wasn’t sure what pushed you so far towards the edge- depression, that was pretty clear. Was there a more specific reason?

She shrugged again. “Have to sooner or later. It comes and goes. Good days, bad days, you know?” She looked around the room with a small smile. “Plus, if I go back to… All that, and I feel like it’s all going down the drain again- well, you guys make a mean cup of tea.”

The brothers looked between each other. It was obvious they all felt some type of way to hear that she was leaving. They had known this woman for less than twenty-four hours, and yet the thought of her leaving them left them feeling empty. She was one more human that accepted them for who they were. She didn’t run, she didn’t scream, she just accepted it.

“I took the liberty of adding our numbers to your phone,” Donatello said finally. “In case you ever need us for any reason.”

“Need a cup of tea, an escape, a friend-”

“-Boyfriend-” Mikey cut in.

Raph wasted no time knocking him over completely this time.

“I don’t think I could handle you, Michelangelo,” Y/N gave him a small smile. “You remind me of me when I was younger.”

Mikey got to his feet, dusting off his thighs. “How old are you again?”

She grinned. “Twenty-one, legal drinking age.”

He shook his head in confusion. “We’re older than you.”

“I really can’t thank you guys enough for this,” Y/N said, ignoring Mikey’s statement. “Especially you two.” She looked between Raphael and Leonardo. “Especially you two. And the Thai food of course.”

It felt like it had been an eternity since she left. It was almost dusk, it had really only been hours. Donatello gave her an extremely detailed map of the sewers, including the streets they followed, in case she wanted to come down by herself. They all figured she’d just ask for an escort, but in case she didn’t feel like it.

“And as soon as she comes into our lives, she leaves,” Michelangelo said through a dramatic sigh. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

“She’ll be alright,” Donatello said. “I added multiple suicide hotlines and therapists to her phone when I added us.”

“She can’t just stay here forever,” Raphael grunted. “She lives up top, she belongs up there. April and Casey don’t live their lives down here with us, do they? No, they live up top with the other humans.”

Leonardo stayed quiet. They were right- she belonged up there with the other humans. She had a job, an apartment, a life- they were just four turtles that lived in the shadows. They saved her from a mistake she couldn’t go back from. What she did now was up to her.

“Maybe we should check on her tonight!” Mikey said, disrupting Leonardo from his thoughts. “Don, you got her address, right?”

“You think I’d let her leave without knowing where to find her? Do you even know me?” Donatello let out a ‘pfft’. “I have her address, her workplace, her social media profiles.”

“Isn’t that going a little too far?” Leonardo said.

“It’s all for her safety!” Mikey argued, even though the question obviously wasn’t pointed towards him.

Leonardo sighed. “Fine. We can check on her tonight.”

He tried to convince himself it was for his brothers’ sake.

“Since you did all that research on her, might as well not put it to waste. Whadoya got, Donnie?” Raph asked as he plopped back down on the couch.

Donnie pushed up his goggles, more for effect than anything. They were quite literally strapped to his head. “According to all of her profiles, she was born in Iowa and moved here a year and a half ago. No listed family members. Says here that she works for herself, doesn’t say what, but I’m seeing a portfolio right here with a bunch of different headshots.”

Mikey made his way over to Donnie’s corner, squinting at the screens. “Maybe she’s a professional photographer. Do you think she could shoot the music video for our Christmas album?”

“I have a feeling it’s more of what’s in the picture that is her job,” Donnie said slowly. “My money’s on makeup or hair.”

“What do you know about that stuff?” Raph questioned.

“Hey, if it was a photography portfolio, you’d definitely see more variety than just heads,” Donnie replied, rolling his eyes.

“Too bad we don’t need a new hairdresser,” Raph snorted, running his hand over his bald head. “Alopecia right here.”

“We’re turtles, we don’t grow hair in the first place.”

“It was a joke, Don.”

“It wasn’t a very thought out joke.”

By that point, Leonardo was no longer paying attention to his brothers. He was no judge of skills with hair, but these pictures didn’t look half bad. Maybe he needed to pay attention to pop culture a bit more to understand. Was she dissatisfied with her work?

She hadn’t mentioned a roommate. He figured she lived alone. Leo recalled April saying how expensive it was to have your own apartment in any part of New York. She couldn’t have been that bad at her job to be able to live on her own.

His thoughts were disrupted when he felt his phone buzz.

Miss me yet? - Y/N

He frowned, looking down at the screen. It had only been hours.

You guys seriously messed up my sleep schedule, I’m wide awake and it’s almost nine at night. - Y/N

Oh yeah? Almost time for us to get to work - Leonardo

Ah, the night shift. Latest I’ve worked was probably until two. I didn’t want to even think about waking up the next morning. - Y/N

You work that late? - Leonardo

I had no idea this client was going to take me eight hours. We were almost sick of each other by the end of it. - Y/N

Maybe Donnie was right. He had no frame of reference for photography, but that seemed late. Did hair related things take that long?

I’ll let you get back to work. Maybe you’ll even save another damsel tonight. - Y/N

Let’s hope I don’t have to - Leonardo

He wasn’t sure his brothers could handle two humans in twenty-four hours. Mikey would go crazy.

“Leonardo? Earth to Leonardo?”

He bounced back into reality. “What did I miss?”

“Um, our entire conversation?” Mikey said, poking him on the shoulder. “It’s your head that’s in the clouds today.”

He sighed. “What, then?”

“April says she has a lead on the Purple Dragons,” Donnie said, turning towards them. “They’re hitting several spots tonight. We need to get going.”

“Alright, you know the drill,” Leonardo said loudly. “What are we waiting for?”

He didn’t have to ask twice.

Meanwhile, Y/N was settling back into her apartment. She regretted leaving it in such a mess the night before. It had taken her until now to finally get it straightened up enough to have company.

Not that she was expecting company.

She let out a small sigh as she placed a mug of tepid water in the microwave. She briefly recalled the events that ensued in the past twenty-four hours.

She did not wake up yesterday thinking she was going to get that close. It had taken all of her courage to even stand on that ledge. Heights were not her friend, ever since she was a child. Maybe it wasn’t the fear of heights so much as it was the fear of falling.

It didn’t make sense that it was her chosen method.

She shook her head quickly. No, those were not the kind of thoughts she needed. Not this soon.

Truth be told, it was hard to live in a city such as New York. It was so easy to get carried away with the hustle and bustle the city was known for. Even on her daily walk to the shop, she felt like a tiny speck in the big picture. Nobody gave her a smile, nobody even looked at her. It wasn’t what she was used to.

Hell, back in the Midwest, people smiled at strangers as they passed them on the road. They waved to people driving tractors, and were even pleasant if one was going ten miles per hour. But here?

If you so much as stopped on the sidewalk, you were given death glares and knew people wished you didn’t exist in that moment.

Maybe she wasn’t meant to stay here.

It was almost every hairstylist’s dream. If you could make it in New York, you really made it. It was a cherry on top if you ended up catering to hair shows, took on a sponsorship for various brands. If you made it in New York, you could even create your own line of color and hair products.

Two and a half years after gaining her license in hairdressing, it just wasn’t what she expected. The hair was great, that wasn’t the problem. The environment drained her. She wasn’t sure if it was worth the heartache.

But those four brothers…

“Maybe I should check in on them,” she told herself.

The microwave began to beep. She reached in to pull the hopefully hot water-filled mug and gasped when the ceramic burnt at her skin. No, she’d give that a minute to cool off, actually.

She glanced over at her phone, it was dangerously close to falling off the edge of the couch. Y/N made her way over and unlocked it with her fingerprint. As she did so, she quietly wondered how Donatello managed to get into it in the first place.

In fact, their four names were now listed as her emergency contact numbers. They were even color coded, not that she needed a reminder on who was who. She decided to text Leo.

Miss me yet? - Y/N

After thinking for another second, she sent another text. Hopefully they weren’t weird about double-texting.

You guys seriously messed up my sleep schedule, I’m wide awake and it’s almost nine at night. - Y/N

It wasn’t completely true, she didn’t typically go to bed until midnight or so. There was no harm in friendly banter, right?

She set her phone back down, on the counter this time, and went to check on her mug of hopefully no longer boiling hot water. Before her fingers even touched it, it dinged.

Oh yeah? Almost time for us to get to work - Leonardo

She looked at the message for a while, her mug of tea leaf-less water all but forgotten.

Ah, the night shift. Latest I’ve worked was probably until two. I didn’t want to even think about waking up the next morning. - Y/N

You work that late? - Leonardo

Did I ever tell them what I did for a living?

Not that it would really matter to them. They obviously didn’t need a beautician.

The hair thing, she was definitely referring to the hair thing. Turtles didn’t have hair. Not that she saw, anyway-

Y/N, I swear, they’re fuckin’ turtles. Of course they don’t have hair anywhere.

I had no idea this client was going to take me eight hours. We were almost sick of each other by the end of it. - Y/N

She remembered that night well. It was actually one of her first clients that she ever got since moving to the Big Apple. And boy, was this girl loyal. She bought product every time, tipped well, even consulted for possible wigs. Y/N wasn’t sure why she would want wigs, she had beautiful hair, but she wasn’t about to judge. That was money.

Plus, she worked for some TV station local to New York. This client was a dream client.

As soon as she sent the message, she groaned. He probably didn’t even care to hear about that kind of stuff. He was probably busy anyway. You know, saving the city.

I’ll let you get back to work. Maybe you’ll even save another damsel tonight. - Y/N

She had to admit, knowing she was the first person they’d saved in such a way made her feel special. Sure, it was the worst possible circumstance, but… In her mind, it was almost like fate. They were different, but they accepted her into their home so easily. They knew she needed help and didn’t hesitate to try their best. They gave her a safe space to sleep, away from her own world. It gave her time to clear her head. Maybe the meditating had something to do with it.

Let’s hope I don’t have to - Leonardo

For some reason, the last message didn’t hit quite right with her. It suddenly drew her back.

Just make some tea, Y/N. Light some candles. Deep breaths.

The last thing she wanted was to be a burden to these four new beings in her life she’d love to consider her first real friends in the city. She crossed her fingers that he didn’t mean his words the way she took them.

Candles lit, tea freshly brewed (and with a chunk of ice for good measure), Y/N settled down on the couch with an oversized blanket and decided to watch something on TV. That’d clear her mind.

“April’s hair does look so good,” she mumbled to herself with a smile, the first thing on TV was the nightly news. “Good job, me.”

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2k14 #tmnt 2k16 #adult turtles #reader insert #tmnt reader inesrt #tmnt leo #tmnt mikey #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #leo x reader #leonardo x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt imagines #leonardo tmnt #tmnt leonardo #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse

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