#there were some different angles hanging around from these shoots so i figured why not!!!

[4th-make-quail]

eric bogosian & assad zaman -> favourite pics

[look-at-the-soul]

The Photoshoot - Part 51

Cillian Murphy

Series master list: Part 1 (2014), Part 2 (2015)

Word count: 3,331

Summary: Just a lovely chapter for this couple, they’re both working in the upcoming Peaky Blinders S3, and we get to see a little BTS 😉

Cillian sat quietly in front of the make up mirror quietly, staring at his reflection while Loz worked around him, preparing some of the things she’d use. Like usual, he zoned out lost in his thoughts without realizing it until he heard a familiar voice filling the trailer.

“Hello, hello!” Yael greeted with her usual charming attitude, a wide smile decorating her lips and the inseparable camera hanging from her shoulder.

Kissing Loz on the cheek because she was the closest to the entrance, Yael proceeded to charge into her husband barely giving him time to react. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Cillian got lost in her sent and her warm welcome.

“How about we give you guys a minute?” Loz proposed with a smirk, inviting the wardrobe responsible out of the trailer.

Pulling his wife onto his lap, Cillian sighed quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me what time you’d arrive?”

“I did… sent you a text.” Yael defended with a frown.

“No you didn… did.” He corrected himself after looking at his screen, he didn’t realize of her message.

Yael chuckled. “Anyways, missed you.”

Finding her lips once more, he murmured into her mouth that he had missed her too.

Eventually Cillian adjusted his trousers as he stepped outside his trailer, fully dressed as his character, Tommy Shelby while holding the peak cap in his hands.

“Ready? This way please.” His assistant, Lindsay instructed him.

In silence, he followed her. Everything felt surreal, he was back for another season, the same story just a different chapter in the Shelby’s lives, yet a lot of things felt different.

He was lost in his own thoughts as he walked in front of the impressive Arley Hall, until a familiar figure appeared in his eyesight. His wife was doing the infamous hand-test to catch the best spot for photographs, according to her, she twirled slowly while holding up her hand towards her face, if the inside of her hand caught any shadows, she kept twirling until it was completely illuminated.

This was to ensure there wouldn’t be a single shadow on the object’s face.

“Have you found your spot, darling?” He questioned in the characteristic brummie accent.

Turning around, Yael squealed delighted by his voice. “Over there, Mr. Shelby.”

And she guided him with a smile right before walking back to take her place several steps away. From this angle, she was able to capture most of the front of the house, she then asked Cillian to pose for her, right by the door with his eyes away from the camera. He was a camera’s favorite, all angles worked good on him, all poses. She had missed working with him, just like the first time.

She could see the way his jaw tensed, so Yael decided to end the photos right there but asked the team to move further into the empty land around the property.

“They told me we would have a few horses available for the shooting?” She asked with curious eyes, eager to see Tommy in his element.

“Yes, bringing them now!” Someone informed her.

While they were waiting, Yael started to check out the first photos in her camera when a hand brushed her bum deliberately, gasping in response she turned around only to then breaking into a deep blush and giggles at the sight of her husband.

“You looked so focused I couldn’t resist it.” Cillian whispered.

Placing one of her hands on his chest, Yael pushed him playfully. “Take a look.”

Finding a golf cart no long after, they were taken to the next stop.

As they brought the horse over, Cillian immediately allowed Tommy to step in and the mere glimpse of the interaction was captured by Yael’s lens, she simply walked around, not giving Cillian any instructions she wanted to capture their complicity in the most pure way. Those photos weren’t probably what they were looking for, but they’d go straight to Yael’s favorite album.

“May I have one looking over here, Sir?”

Her choice of words caught Cillian’s attention right away, fixing his eyes on her, Cillian raised an eyebrow and rolled his shoulders to put on a serious face, it was a bit hard to stay in character whilst having his wife biting her lower lip while snapping the shutter.

“Right there, hold it for me… one, two.” Yael fixed her eyes on him, pleased with the results captured in her camera. “I think we’re done. Thank you everybody.”

Cillian shuddered at the memory that just flashed before his eyes, this is exactly how they started, with Yael behind her camera, the unmistakable connection between them, Yael trusting her instincts and experience. And he ended up marrying her.

The best part of working with his wife was that he could trust her blindly, she had that magic touch and her work was always impeccable.

***

“Hello pumpkin.” Bryan greeted his daughter as he opened the door, but he was met with a huge canvas covering her. “Oh, need a hand with that?”

“Hey daddy, please!”

Taking it from her, they both stepped inside Yael’s apartment.

“How was the shooting sweetheart?” Isla asked standing from the couch.

“Incredible, the horses are amazing.” Yael replied, looking around to find the best place to hang the portrait. “Here, take a look.”

Taking off the black fabric covering the canvas, she was pleased to hear her mother’s gasp.

“I thought it was a painting, not a picture.” Bryan studied his son in law’s portrait.

“You can print photographs into canvas now, amazing huh?” Yael explained with excitement. “But I think it needs something else to make it look vintage.”

“I’ve an idea, Bryan love can you bring me the bag that’s in the trunk of the car please?” Isla requested while helping her daughter to brung the portrait down. “You can paint over it.”

“Guess we can try, do you it will work?”

Her mother chuckled. “I saw on the news the other day a guy selling paintings on the street, but someone realized it was just a print and he added touch ups of paint.”

“You had two bags, so I brought you both.” Bryan stated from the door. “Shall I start dinner already?”

“Lee-Anne called to say that Dean was stuck in traffic.” Isla explained.

Yael nodded and decided to text her friend to let her know she was home so she and her sister could arrive anytime they wanted and Dean as he got the chance.

“Alright turn that lamp on for me dear, where are my glasses?” Isla asked herself out loud. Before Yael could point at her head, Isla laughed feeling them. “Here they’re.”

“How much space should we use?” Yael took several steps back to check out the portrait. Her mother joined her a moment later.

Isla walked towards the canvas again and pointing her brush, she proposed a spot. “Here? Like it’s part of the tree.”

Titling her head, Yael smiled. “I’m so glad I listened to your idea, it looks fabulous!”

Isla knew a lot about painting, she took a course as therapy around the time Yael’s accident, back then she needed an outlet and that along with moving into the lake house helped her a lot.

She then explained her daughter, they’d let the paint dry completely and the following day they could add a setting layer.

“That must be Lee-Anne and her sister.” Yael went to open the door.

Welcoming the girls in, they linked their arms around each other. “It’s been so long.”

“We brought these.” Lee-Anne’s sister presented some appetizers and other sides for dinner.

“It’s great you were around, haven’t seen you in ages.” Yael welcomed her as well. She lived in another city and both sisters visited each other, the previous weekend there was a ballet they’d both attend, therefore her sister visiting Lee-Anne.

“Right? I’m a bit nervous about meeting your husband to be honest.”

“I’ve told her Cillian is so down to earth.” Lee-Anne explained moving towards the kitchen to greet her friend’s parents.

Yael nodded, hoping he would arrive soon.

As Bryan placed dinner in the oven, they started to eat some of the appetizers, luckily no long after, Cillian walked into the apartment.

“Look who I found about to ring the bell.” He stepped aside to reveal Dean behind him.

Yael and Lee-Anne’s faces lit up respectively as they saw their men.

“How was the screen test?” Yael asked her husband quietly, she knew he wouldn’t reveal much about the project with people around.

They changed a few things over the Duchess role, like the name and actress so it turned out longer than he expected. But he was cautious to not explain it right there.

“Good.” He smiled sweetly at her and went to shake Bryan’s hand. “Hope it’s not too late.”

“Right on time, we left some appetizers for you.” Isla swooned at him, Cillian had a special place in her heart.

“Thanks I’m starving.” He went to wash his hands and he returned to the living room, he looked from Lee-Anne to her sister. “I didn’t know you had a twin.”

“Oh we’re not.” Lee-Anne explained.

“My God! Cillian! You knew they aren’t twins.” Yael smacked him playfully in the arm.

Lee-Anne’s sister chuckled nervously, startled by Cillian’s sense of humor.

“Woah, this smells incredible.” Dean took a deep breath, the food was mouthwatering.

Cillian felt his phone buzzing in his pocket as he was holding the drinks. “Love, you want to look at this.”

“Ow I miss him.” Yael pouted.

“Isla, look my brother sent me a video of Scout, he’s curled up in Yael’s blanket.”

“Oh my heart, his face.” She gushed over the black lab. He was such a good boy, always looking after Yael.

Going back to the dining room, they brought the things they needed.

“I just want to say I’m so happy to have my little girl back home. And all of you over of course.”

Yael leaned her head on her father’s shoulder, touched by her Dad’s words.

“Luckily we’ll spend some more time around now.” She then realized she should be careful with how much she shared, even with her family and closest friends, so she changed the topic. “I’ve a couple of shootings programmed around the next few months, so we’ll be back and forth.”

“How could I forget?!” Lee-Anne’s sister expressed. “A friend of mine bought an ancient property and it’s turning it into an hotel boutique, it’s in Scotland… would you like to take the photographs?”

Yael looked at her confused, Dean was also a photographer, she didn’t want to get involved in any kind of trouble.

“Oh don’t worry, Dean is into wild animals photography plus he’s got those dates booked.” Lee-Anne explained, reading her friend’s mind.

“It’s late in September.” Her sister clarified. “He said whoever did it would stay for free.”

Patting his wife’s thigh, Cillian caught her attention. “You should do it babe, you said you wanted to go back.”

She stared into Cillian oceans eyes, thinking of the Peaky Blinders schedule. She’d need to organize the best dates.

“Well I guess it’s settled then.” Yael smiled.

“Awesome, I’ll text my friend tomorrow.”

“If you need a hand with the lights let me know.” Lee-Anne joked.

Cillian stood up and went to the kitchen to grab something when the loud laugh from the room filled the space, he had been so engrossed in the script lately that he just realized how much he needed a moment like this; having a good laugh, seeing his wife smiling non-stop, listening to other people’s stories.

He felt extremely grateful to get another chance to do what he loved the most, going back both on set and location to film the next part of his character’s story so people could enjoy it, it meant everything to him.

But this… a moment like this, it was priceless.

“I know that look.” Yael’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

She wrapped her arms around his torso from behind, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

“I’m just enjoying these moments, you know having them over.” Cillian covered her hands with his own, swaying softly.

Bryan’s laugh resonated, followed by Dean’s.

“Remind me to thank your parents for filling the fridge before they go.”

“Will do, now come with me… I want to show you something.”

Intertwining their hands, Yael lead her husband to her studio.

“I still need to add the frame tho, but… I really really liked how it’s turning out.”

Cillian held his breath at the sight of the huge portrait before his eyes… there he was, well more like Thomas Shelby, holding his horse’s reins.

His inmutable expression showed power, he was giving arrogant vibes, he exuded this insufferable stare, showing off his wealth with an I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude.

He was blown away by Yael’s ability to capture Tommy’s essence, it was all there right in the surface. It was a strange feeling to see himself staring back at him.

“You changed it somehow right? This is not the version I saw on your camera.” Cillian stated finally a couple of minutes later.

Yael squealed silently, excited that her husband noticed.

“I used some filters to alter the saturation and light… and then Mum helped me paint some trees over the edge. It’s a masterpiece if you ask me.”

Cillian couldn’t help the wide smile that appeared in his lips. “It is, Tommy Shelby would be so proud.”

“I got a few samples for the frame, but this one…” she moved around to grab a piece “really makes it stand out.”

It was flashy, but deep down he knew Yael’s pick would make Tommy nod in agreement, the bigger, the better.

“If you want my opinion…. I’d choose the same.”

“Do you think Steven will like it?” Yael could help but bit her lower lip.

But Cillian’s soft chuckle and sudden hand rubbing her back was all the approval she needed. “He’ll go nuts about it.”

Satisfied with her work, Yael then pulled him by the hand.

“Alright Mister, let’s go back there before they come looking for us, I don’t think you want them gushing about a big-arse painting about you.”

Cillian raised an eyebrow playfully. “Watcha talking about?” He asked in a mastered Brummie accent. “‘Course I do, this will be hanging as a trophy.”

“Well… let’s bring Lee-Anne first, she’ll tease you endlessly.”

He shook his head profusely. “I was thinking of your Mum.”

Yael laughed by his words, he knew Isla was his biggest fan.

“…the thing about goods like that, the price gets controlled by big companies.” They heard Bryan explain as they approached the table again.

“Even if it has the potential to turn things around?” Dean asked with interest.

“Specially for that reason.” Yael heard her father explain and she was transported back in time to the days when Bryan would help her with her homework, he wouldn’t give her the answers, he’d go above and beyond to explain her absolutely everything until she could reach the point of reasoning the meaning behind it. “Just look at the health system… it doesn’t work!”

“You took the wrong career Dad.” Yael pouted.

Lee-Anne came around the table to help her clean it. “I’d vote for you Bryan in a heartbeat.”

“Ah stop, although my love here,” he caught Isla’s hand as she was walking past him, “would be happy to get rid of me for a little while.”

“You’re too good for that job darling, corruption would frustrate you.” She rubbed his shoulder lovingly.

“There’s always an exception tho.” Cillian interjected casually, he was thinking of himself, somehow he had managed to stay away from Hollywood’s spot light.

“Baby, would you take my portrait? For my campaign?” Bryan joked winking at Yael.

“Of course!”

“And Cillian can show me how to deal with the reporters.” He continued while Cillian nodded profusely.

“Just answer the first thing that comes to your mind, they don’t know the truth.” He cackled.

“Sometimes they ask the weirdest things.” Yael made a funny face. “When was the last time you used the tube? Do you still have vynils?”

“Do you?” Lee-Anne asked Cillian in a serious tone that made everyone laugh.

Cillian was still laughing as they waved their guest goodbye, he had to admit they made him have a great time and recharge his batteries for the upcoming season.

“Tomorrow it’s going to be crazy.” Yael groaned softly, pulling her hair up in a messy bun, making a mental note of the photos she’d take of Annabelle Wallis and the child that would play Charlie, Tommy’s son, they were still trying to decide between two boys, so she’d take both portraits to print it into a canvas as well. Then they’d fly back home.

Cillian rubbed his eyes tiredly, flicking the lights off.

Climbing in bed, Yael brought her laptop immediately editing some of the photos she took, messing around the images, she started adding different escenarios in the background, Tommy and Grace’s were already in b&w… now if only she could find the perfect place.

“Coliseum, Eiffel Tower or Statue of Liberty?” She asked as her husband emerged from the en-suite.

Cillian froze and gave his wife a confused look.

“I’m going to print a photo for Tommy’s office, so pick a place.” She explained showing him the screen.

Leaning on the bed, Cillian patted her thigh to sit next to her, then he brought a hand to his mouth and stared at the images Yael had been working on.

“Tommy wouldn’t go back to France, although it looks nice.” Rubbing his chin he looked from one image to the other. “Grace went to New York the first time, so I guess they’d go there… this is brilliant.”

It’s the small things after all, but he genuinely thought adding a photograph as part of the props of the show was a fabulous idea. Turning his head, he searched for his wife’s lips.

“Speaking of which… I’ve something for you.” Walking towards his bag, he looked inside for a box. “Thought this is a nice way to show you some love for all your support over the show.”

Coming back into bed, he ran his fingers over the edge.

“It’s a little something… but I want you to know your encouragement, support and effort means everything to me. I couldn’t do this without you, you know that right?”

The gesture caught Yael by surprise, she was still processing his words.

“Some time ago I gave you the caravan necklace.” Opening the box, he turned it around so she still couldn’t see what was inside. “Now, each season I’m going to add a little charm related to the show.”

Cillian finally let the bracelet hang from his fingers, separating the charms.

“I added a camera, because well… that’s how we met.” He smiled adoringly.

Yael stared at him with tears threatening to come down her cheeks. Her eyes fixed on the charms hanging from the bracelet now around her wrist; there was a razor blade, a horseshoe, the camera he mentioned and a small clock.

“Cill this is… I don’t even know what to say, I love it! I love you!” She managed to whisper right before throwing herself into his loving arms.

It was safe to say that his wife liked the present. He thought it was cheesy, but deep down if it wasn’t for Yael’s support he wouldn’t be make it by himself, and he didn’t mean it because she helped him act, no but because she was there for him in so many ways.

“Well I didn’t buy you anything, but just let me show you how grateful I am too for everything you do.” She confessed before pulling his body to cover hers.

Thank you so much for following up this story! I hope you enjoyed this chapter (it was a joy for me to write! ) 🥰✨💕

Photo painting credits: Chris Saunders

Photo bracelet inspiration:

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@kmc1989 @ironpen

[blueysoda]

A Night Out

Cherri Bomb and Angel Dust

By BlueySoda

Cherri Bomb was excited. She and Angel Dust, her closest friend, had plans to be chaotic and fuck off around town for hours― definitely with alcohol and substances involved. She'd been planning this out with Angel for a week. What clubs they'd hit up, what weapons they'd use, things they'd demolish, games they'd play, everything. She even planned on bringing two, brand new, hot pink Tommy Guns along. One for her, one for Angel, since everyone knows how much he loves pink. 

Pink being a favorite color was one of many things these two buddies had in common; they were both queer, had chaotic energy, loved tearing shit up, destroying things for fun, incredible marksmanship, hating Valentino, caring for each other, being bitchy, having no filter, etc. All the way down to the freckles, it was like these two were twins. That's not to say they're exactly alike, though. They had their differences, as did everyone. But they were truly the best of friends. Angel was family to Cherri, he meant the world to her. They were always there for each other. When they could be, anyway. Sometimes, things come up. 

But not tonight. 

Cherri was in her apartment, putting on the finishing touches of her outfit. Her hair was tied up, as usual, and her face and makeup looked the same. She wore a spiked choker on her neck, accompanied by chained necklaces hanging from it and laying on her chest. She wore a bright red leather jacket with the sleeves cut off on the elbows, a few loose rips visible toward the end of the sleeve. Her tattoo on her left arm showed from the sleeve to her wrist, where a red fingerless glove was worn on her hand. On the other, she wore a long, black-and-red striped fingerless glove that ended further up her arm, but the sleeve covered the end of it. She wore a black cropped tube top with a yellow bomb silhouette centered in the front, black shorts that hugged her thighs that had a loose, studded belt that hung crooked on her hips. Impractical, but stylish. In addition to that, she had on black ripped stockings that ended mid-thigh on her right leg and just above the knee on her left. Her boots were the same as usual, with the usual pink changed to red.

She looked at herself in the mirror, trying a few different poses to make sure she looked good from all angles, then grabbed her phone to snap a mirror selfie. When a few were taken, she chose one and posted it to her Sinstagram.

Getting ready for a fuckin' BOMB night with @angie_fluffy_bootz!! time to shoot the shit! 💣💥✨✨😎

The Australian went to her side table to grab her hairbrush when it had posted, running it through her hair one more time before it was time to go. A moment later, her phone pinged. 

Angie 💖: hey bitch!! i'm outside waitin'! 

Cherri grinned excitedly. 

Cher-Cher 💥: brt babe! 

A moment later, the two met up just outside of the apartment and started walking to their first club. 

"Hey, Angie!! Fuck, that outfit's rad!" Cherri complimented the spider, which earned a playful pose in return. 

"Aw, this ol' thing? Nah, it ain't nuttin'. I just found it in my closet, no big deal."

"Oh, that include the two 3-carat rings on your fingers, too? Are those 'ain't nothin'?" Cherri pointed at his hands and raised her brow. Angel just laughed and sighed. 

"Just some little tchotchkes I had layin' around, yanno? Figured they'd complete the look!"

"Bullshit, I know you've been dyin' to find some excuse to show them off out in public! You haven't shut up about them since ya bought 'em!" 

"Well, I'd never wear 'em at the studio, an' I've been real busy lately so I haven't had the time." He rolled his eyes with his lighthearted tone, though his smile faltered ever so slightly. The cyclops saw this, and felt empathy for him, but quickly returned to her big grin with a gentle nudge to his side. 

"And that's why we're goin' out tonight and forgetting about all that shit for a night! Flash those rings and show 'em off to every damned soul we see! We're gonna have a good fuckin' time tonight, alright, Ange?" She looked up at him with her determined, toothy smile, the one that always came with her pep talks. That made Angel smile again, even wider than before, matching her expression.

"Hell fuckin' yeah!"

"WOO!" Cherri cheered happily with a laugh, then took him impatiently by the hand toward the nightclub just down the street. 

These two were inseparable. They were family. They could always trust each other and confide in one another, no matter what. 

A/N:

This is the outfit she was wearing!

[quad-weave]

(I took this picture almost a year ago!)

1-year Gposing Anniversary!

Today is the day I consider my gposing anniversary--the first time I did a 'photo shoot' specifically for the point of sharing with others :) So, I wanted to take some of my earlier pictures and remake them, to see how far I've come! :)

(Why not the first photo shoot though, you may ask? I already redid the pictures to revamp the Eorzea Collection post that first shoot was for.)

------

I can't do this without revisiting my first custom Anamnesis pose. It was mainly the result of me poking around the tool and figuring out how it works, but I was still happy with the result.

But it's anniversary time, so it time for a remake!

To be honest, though, there wasn't too much wrong with the pose in and of itself, besides the fingers. It is just a tweak of an in-game idle pose, after all. So what I did was use the same shader and put a bit more thought into the framing and background!

And I fixed the fingers. You can't see it but I fixed them, trust me 😌

08/22/23:

08/06/23:

------

Next, I wanted to remake my first couples pose. I remember learning so much from trying this one out, but I also had a lot of trouble with a lot of things... and I think it took about six hours total. This set was definitely a trial. I saved and loaded these poses a few months ago too, and hoo boy. There was a lot happening, lol, and most of it was not good.

The reshoot is more of a reimagining, though. Unlike the other shoots where I replicated most of the image, I've changed the outfits, some of the background, and tweaked the poses a fair bit.

Let's face it, when I first tried this pose I was out of my depth, and now, with a deeper understanding not only of Anamnesis but how to frame pictures and choosing shaders, I have a couples pose set that looks far more natural and soft.

10/17/22:

08/06/23:

-------

Next is this picture. At the time I was still getting the hang of post editing, and also was dealing with some... oddities with the dress. Which had me crop the shot at an unusual resolution.

But now, I know how to be more subtle with my post-editing and shaders, and I've gotten better with lighting, too. In general result looks more natural :)

10/23/22:

08/05/23:

------

Finally, I have this photo shoot with Laurent. This one was special to me because it's the first time I used some really dramatic lighting, and I still really liked how it turned out.

However, there were issues with other parts of the composition (the giant knife, everything being shot from the same angle, etc) and I always wanted to give this another try :)

It's a bit brighter this time around due to the changed location, but the lighting still feels pretty dramatic. This time I did some different, more dynamic angles, and I took a bonus picture :)

Oh, and I learned how to scale weapons down. Why are weapons so huge in this game...?

11/20/22:

08/05/23:

------

I really enjoyed remaking some of these shoots--while I knew I've improved over the year I started, being able to see the differences side by side really lets me see my growth.

Here's to another year of having fun gposing :D

[simp4men]

Hold Me Down part 4

Part 3

You always set your alarm to wake up an hour before Jack needed to get up, so that it gave you enough time to get yourself together, check emails, and have a little alone time before you were at the mercy of Jack for the rest of the day. Today was a little lighter compared to most days as Jack only had one photoshoot to do today. 

A little after you had woken up, and were scrolling through your emails, you got an incoming call from your parents so you answered right away. After working for Jack for over a year and traveling with him everywhere, you hadn't been home to see your parents in a while but you made it work with the phone calls and face times you would do regularly. 

After catching up with them for a while, your mom asked you the same question she asked every time you guys would call. 

“Y/N, so what’s the news with the boy situation? Have you found anyone yet?” your mom asks 

“Oh here we go” you mumble annoyed “Not yet, god why do you keep reminding me. I’m too busy to date and you know it’s hard for me to open up to people let alone talk to anyone.” you say 

“Honey, were just asking, your 23 now and haven’t had a boyfriend we just want you to meet someone” your mom sighs 

“Don’t you think I know that” you say frustrated. “I got to go now, my boss is calling me” you lie and hang up the phone quickly. You bring your hands to your face and rub your eyes. 

“Did you just lie to your parents, pretty girl?” Jack asks sleepily 

“What do you mean? And since when do you wake up before I have to wake you up” you question him 

“You said my boss is calling me, and I definitely wasn't” he says back “So what’s up with that? 

“Uhh it’s nothing, I honestly just wanted to end the conversation, every time i’m on the phone they have to question me about my dating life” you grumble 

“And what’s wrong with that” he asks 

“Don’t you start” you say pointing a finger at him 

He puts his arms up in surrender. “Ok fine, what’s on the agenda for today” he asks 

“Well you got a photoshoot today, at a studio in downtown LA.” you tell him “This is also going to be a test shoot where you get to pick who your lead girl is going to be in your next video. They are going to bring in a bunch of models and you will have to pose and interact with them and then we can figure out from there who you want in the video.” you say. 

Jack rolls his eyes and grumbles. 

“Be nice, your living every guys dream right now Jack, your going to have a bunch of pretty models at your side” you laugh “Now let’s go, Urb and Neelam are already in the car” you say walking out the door

“But none of those girls are you” he mumbles to himself as he follows you outside 

Once you guys made it to the studio, you helped get Jack settled before you let him get touched up by the make up artist on set. You went back to sit by Urban and Neelam finally relaxing. Once Jack was done getting ready, you see a bunch of the models make their way into Jack’s direction. The photographer starts having them pose alongside Jack finding different angles to get the best shot. 

About an hour later you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You end up bumping into one of the models on the way in. 

“Oh sorry” you say 

She glares at you for a second before speaking. 

“I’ve been watching you, why is Jack hovering around you? Who are you?” she asks with a disgusted tone

“Oh i’m Y/N, Jack’s assistant” you say 

“And that’s all you’ll ever be” she scoffs walking away

To say that you were hurt was an understatement. You never took being Jack’s assistant as a bad thing. You loved your job and you loved working for him. But the fact that some pretty ass model had the audacity to say that to you, hurt for some reason. It didn't help at all that she was beautiful and well you were just you. You couldn't compare to all the pretty girls who were with Jack at this moment. Your insecurities were definitely heightened and you couldn't help but let a few tears fall as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You try your best to stop the tears from falling as you make your way back to where you were sitting until you bump into a hard chest. You look up to see Jack with his face full of concern. 

“Y/N what’s wrong” he asks softly 

‘Nothing, i’m ok Jack really” you say quickly wiping the tears from your face 

“Don’t lie to me, come here” he says, grabbing your hand and guiding you to a chair and picking you up to sit on his lap. He brushes his finger against your cheek softly. “You're too precious to cry, sweet girl” he coos, gripping your waist, readjusting you so that your legs are positioned on either side of his legs.

You try to get out of his hold but he grips you tighter. “Jack let me go, people are gonna see” you sniffle

“So, I don't care, you're upset and I'm going to hold you until you feel better” he says seriously. You nuzzle your face into his neck trying to control your breathing while your hand grips the back of his hair gently tugging on the strands as a way to calm yourself down. 

Once you finally calm down, you break from Jack’s hold and look at him. “Thanks Jack, you always know how to comfort me.” you smile at him.

“Hey, that’s what i’m here for” he says softly 

“Ok, can I get back to sitting with Urban and Neelam now?” you ask 

He nods his head and helps you down from his lap. “But, were not done talking about this Y/N” he says 

You sigh and nod your head waiting for the dreaded conversation you were going to have with Jack later.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 196

New chapter!

Thank you everyone who participated in AMA Week :)  It was a lot of fun.

This week we are back at it, and jumping right into some fun.  TW: Feet and toes. Nothing sexual, but I know it squicks some folks.

Shoutout to @gayassholeposts, the latest speedrunner through the story. And to @baelpenrose for hanging in there with me.

“That’s actually valid,” Charly confessed when I recounted the incident. “Derek can be pretty rude.”

Tyche nodded before releasing her next throw.  We were currently in the gym, where she was practicing throwing knives at greater distances.  When the blade sunk into the barest edge of the target, she turned and shrugged. “It’s one of his best qualities, honestly.”

My hands went up in surrender. “Hey, I’m first to admit I need blunt people around me sometimes. It’s never been an issue with me.”

“True.” She turned back to lining up her next throw, and I resumed my position behind her, watching for and corrections I could spot.

Her next throw went to the left. “I think the extra force is twisting your arm? Your wrist bent at the last second.”

Scowling, she dug out a wrist brace to test the theory.  Sure enough, her next throw was at least safely within the target and not in danger of hitting anyone - not that it mattered, the target was against a wall for practice. But the principle was still there.

I let her go through a few more throws while I turned back to Charly. “Wha - Why are you taking your socks off?”

“Yoga?” she smiled brightly before carefully bending into a handstand.

“Your knees are bent.”

“I know. They’re sposed to be.”

My eyes narrowed. “Pretty sure they aren’t.”

“Pretty sure they are,” she replied calmly. “Hand me that reeeeeallly small bow?”

This was going places I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to like. “Which hand?” I asked suspiciously.

“This one.” Sure as shit, she bobbed her left foot, toes splayed.

“Oh the hell if I am going to have you try shooting arrows with your feet while Tyche is throwing razors down the gym!”

“I’m bored, and I just want to see if I can even draw the bow. No arrows, swear.” Her foot bounced again, freaking me the fuck out. “Gimme.”

Very gingerly, I put the thickest part of the bow between her toes. “This had better be good enough, bc I am not touching your feet. Feet are icky.”

Without losing her balance, she shook her head at me from near the floor. “I’ve seen you pick up and sort laundry with your feet because your hands were busy.”

“That’s different!” I insisted. “If I hurt someone with my feet, I am hurting them with the actual foot.”

“Ask Arthur,” Tyche offered, not turning towards us. By this point, she had three knives almost in the center of the target. “It was his chin she broke in half.”

“I heard…” Charly grunted softly while she tried to grab the bowstring with her right foot. “And his ribs.”

“Hey!” I objected. “That one isn’t fair - he walked between me and a heavy-bag, and to this day I don’t know why.” I wasn’t going to admit to anyone that he hit his head so hard when I kicked him that he couldn’t remember either.

I felt awful about it.

“For besties, you two sure beat each other up a lot,” she observed as she finally managed to pull the string about an inch. “This is harder than it looks…”

All I could do was blink at her. She was balanced on her hands, arms straight, head bent at the least comfortable angle I had seen on a living human, with her toes literally in front of her face, drawing a bowstring, and really believed it was harder than it looked. “I can’t figure out if you lost bones or gained them.”

“Me either,” came the response. Not even a little out of breath, arms as steady as if she could just do this forever.

“What in the fuck??”  Tyche’s shout when she finally turned towards us was what sent Charly toppling to the ground - apparently startled jumps don’t work the same with elbows and shoulders.

“Damn it,” she complained. “I almost had it, too!”

“Had what? A herniated disc?”

“What? No.” Charly shooed away the suggestion. “A good grip on the bowstring.”

I gave Tyche an emphatic look. See? This is what I’ve been dealing with.

She groaned. “Charly…” Finally, someone was going to talk some - “You’re supposed to use an adapted pull assist for that.”

Nevermind. Sense has left the building. Possibly the quadrant.

“I’m really trying to figure out if I should let Coffey know about this,” I groaned.

Despite my fervent wish to the contrary, Charly already had the bow gripped in her left foot and was effortlessly coiling back over. “Who do you think gave me the bow? You can’t just use a regular one for this, it has to have a much lower weight.”

Gods dammit, now I need to know. “How much lower?”

“This one is… hmmmm, I think twelve pounds. HA!” Somehow, she had managed to hook the string just right so she could actually draw it. “Darn it, I might need socks or something. This does not feel very nice.”

Shaking my head roughly to snap out of my curiosity, I tried the first subject I could think of. “Did you talk to Teeth yet?”

“Mmm-hmm. They want to try the exoskeleton first, with the option for cellular therapy later.”

“WHOA whoawhoawhoawhoa whoa,” Tyche cut in. “Someone explain, now. What is wrong with Teeth?”

“Technically, nothing,” I assured her before filling her in on the situation. “They’re worried we are going to force them to grow an arm and a leg, we just want them to be able to wear their prosthetics.  The exo was Maverick’s suggestion as a compromise.”

Rolling her eyes, Tyche scoffed. “Of course they chose the exo. They love their prosthetics, and they love Nixe’s prosthesis. A big honkin’ one that they are probably going to hack halfway to the heat death of the universe? Obvious choice, really.”

Finally - finally - Charly voluntarily uncurled and laid on the mat. “Pretty much. You would have thought Teeth had light emitters installed in their head, the way their eyes lit up when I suggested the exoskeleton.  And when I had some sleep and a think, the fact that they were more willing to do the therapy later made even more sense.”

I nodded. “Ultimate good-faith gesture: a compromise that showed you really want what’s best, especially when it’s not what you would prefer.”

She clicked her tongue and threw me a wink. “Exactly. And yeah, we’re good with it. Neither of us actually give a crap if Teeth got the cellular therapy, we just knew they were stir crazy or injured every single second of the day.”

Tyche dropped to the mat as well and started stretching her legs. “So, are the schematics with Ivan, or with Maverick?” When all she got was an arched brow in response, she threw her head back and groaned. “There’s not a chance in this life, the next, or the one after that, that you would let anyone but those two rough out anything for Teeth.”

Charly mumbled something and glanced at us, only to see us both staring her down as hard as possible. “Fiiiine,” she sighed. “Conor just finished the specs, and Ivan’s mocking it up as we speak.” Her hands flew up to rub her face. “Not like I can let Teeth spec out their own stuff. I don’t know if we’d end up with the most tricked-out pony in the show, or the barest of bare bones needed.  Nixe thinks barest of bones, though, and I know I would trick it out with all kinds of shit, so we handed it off to those three.”

“That means Teeth is free to spec out your pull,” Tyche pointed out.

Just when I started groaning, Charly sat bolt upright. “Oooo! You’re right!”

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[1kook]

BORN SINNER III

→ MASTERLIST

summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k

banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons​ !! ty ty ty!! <3333

notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu​ *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3

in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series

He gets your text the following Tuesday morning. 

Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver. 

It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else. 

From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work. 

He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone. 

[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰

[❤️]: after my last class of course

Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow. 

Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again. 

He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?

The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears. 

You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”

And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—

And of course, he had felt… something afterwards. 

This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning. 

First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?

But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good. 

(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)

From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life. 

He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you. 

It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands. 

You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word. 

You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him. 

But still. 

Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.

He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess. 

If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning. 

But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience. 

Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned. 

Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants. 

He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet. 

But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord. 

But he’s scared. 

Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you. 

And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character. 

But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t. 

His phone buzzes in his hand—

[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️

—and his decision is made. 

Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors. 

Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs. 

“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up. 

In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—

“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.” 

You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”

By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you. 

He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease. 

As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“

“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.

It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”

You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean. 

“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes. 

It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead. 

A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness. 

And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there. 

And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything. 

“__?” he says before he can stop himself. 

You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you. 

You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin. 

Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?” 

Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained. 

It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind. 

Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words. 

You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before. 

Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.

Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch. 

His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”

It sounds flimsy, even to you. 

“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”

You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.

His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.

Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him.  With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.) 

“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”

“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh. 

His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.

He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed. 

Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.” 

It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that? 

Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”

In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so. 

But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not. 

Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.” 

It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.” 

If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place. 

In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion. 

It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later. 

Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car. 

What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.

Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his. 

But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?

“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“

“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.” 

And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly. 

Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out. 

There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different. 

It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you. 

Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you. 

And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity. 

The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up. 

By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his. 

Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content. 

All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you. 

By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that. 

But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long. 

You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm. 

It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back. 

“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”

Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open. 

He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat. 

When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again. 

A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?” 

Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips. 

Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again. 

You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now. 

Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once. 

Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”  

And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in. 

He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t. 

Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms. 

“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?” 

Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough. 

By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”

Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist. 

He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him. 

But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl. 

The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple. 

Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror. 

The sight of him is… weird to say the least. 

Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface. 

That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down. 

In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side. 

Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck. 

Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day. 

Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close. 

You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday. 

It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips. 

It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself. 

“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him. 

His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?” 

It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him. 

The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”

And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.” 

His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space. 

Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“

His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin. 

You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you. 

But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it. 

It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress. 

It felt good.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[starsstruck]

open up

3.3k words of marriage talk with harry. a ring, some fingers, a kitchen table. rated M. 

an: hi. so. this is for cass’s @majorharry​ 20k fic célébration, congrats you absolute legend ! i initially wrote something else back in july (lol) but never found myself happy with it so here we are with something much shorter, a lot better, and way sexier. i used a bunch of prompts (thank u cass) to bring something living in my head rent free for WEEKS to life 😳 anyway ! enjoy, as always happy reading and please do let me know what you think !💞

***

“I didn’t think I’d been seeing you until later.”

You glanced over to the kitchen sink to let your eyes skim over Harry’s hunched figure, where he stood thoroughly scrubbing his hands clean.

“Why, not happy to see me?” He teased from where he was across the kitchen, reaching for a hand towel to dry off. “Rather your time alone?”

Only shaking your head, you bit away a smile as your eyes remained stuck on the computer screen in front of you. You had been moving around the temporary house all day, unable to settle on one single spot to work from. For now, the kitchen table was where you sat with your things spread around.

You could see your boyfriend walking towards you from your peripheral, choosing not to glance at him and rather re read the same words splashed across your screen for the eighth time.

He was quick to find his place behind you, leaning over the wooden chair while his arms wrapped around either side of you in pursuit for attention.

“We wrapped up early,” you could practically feel Harry’s hum when he spoke, even with the back of the chair between you.

His cleaned hands slid down your arms until he was hugging you from behind, his palms resting over the backs of your hands.

“How was your day?” His lips rested over your hair, voice quiet and muffled.

You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, before moving down to rest his chin in the curve of your shoulder.

You leaned into him slightly. “Okay –” your work could be only be partially done remotely, meaning you did your best to make due with what you could.

“Went for a walk and got some groceries. What do you think about risotto for dinner?”

“Sounds delicious,” he smiled against your neck, stealing one more kiss over the skin before leaning back. The words across your laptop screen were not urgently demanding your attention, and you took a moment to revel in the touch of you boyfriend.

He began moving his hands away from yours, the feeling of them bare and ringless something that you had recently gotten used to. You caught his left hand in yours before he could pull away. “What’s this?”

You brushed your thumb over the single ring gracing the hand, the smooth band that circled around his ring finger.

“Fuck,” Harry chuckled lightly, watching as you circled the metal around his finger. “Must’ve forgotten to take it off before leaving.”

You absentmindedly admired his hand. “How was shooting?”

“Really good – don’t want to spoil too much for you.”

Barely registering his answer, you kept your hand over his, leaning back on the chair and into Harry as you admired the wedding ring.

“Are you done your work for the day?” His voice was low, not having moved away from your shoulder, and his lips hovered over your skin with only slight brushes as they moved. Still standing behind you, he was slightly amused by your fascination with the ring.

With a newfound sense of possessiveness over him, you turned yourself around, momentarily letting go of his hand so that you could move off the chair to stand. The seat out of the way as you now faced him, Harry didn’t move an inch as you remained trapped between him and the table, leaning your backside against the edge of the wooden surface.

You paused before answering. “I could be.”

His lips teased a smirk, hands retreated from your skin and instead planted on his hips. When he didn’t say anything else, you cleared your throat once more.

“How is married life treating you?” You titled your head slightly, grabbing his hand in yours again as he leant in closer at your touch.

He smiled. “Your hands are soft.” He spoke lowly, eyes momentarily falling to watch the way your fingertips danced over his skin. “You don’t like seeing me married off, is that it?”

“Not particularly,” you hummed. catching his eyes with yours.

You raised both your hands together in a smooth motion, gently folding his fingers down as he kept his eyes glued to every move you made. Glancing up at him as you kept your eyes locked, bottom lip falling when you opened your mouth to slide his ring finger into your mouth.

Not missing the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips before slipping them between his teeth, as you pushed his finger into your mouth until the wedding band hit your teeth.

Your tongue licked over the skin first, before you caught the band between your teeth and tugged it over his finger. “What’re you doing, darling?”

His tone was low, watching as you shifted closer to him from where you stood. Pulling his finger from between your lips, ring caught between your teeth. Once his hand fell from your cheek, you remained silent as you plucked the newly wet ring to hold it in your palm.

“Better,” you breathed quietly, your palm extended in the small gap between the two of you. You found yourself narrowing your eyes at him as he never looked away, as if each challenging the other to see who would break first.

Just as you suspected, he was the one to give, as he quickly grabbed at your hips with one hand and nudged your jaw with the other.  

“Don’t like the look of the wedding band?” He sounded slightly breathless.

“Not when it’s someone else’s.”

He challenged you with raised brows. “What if it was ours?”

It wasn’t a foreign topic. The conversation of marriage, or spending your lives together was one that had been floated between you before. It was always an agreement of a when rather than an if – something brought up both in confessions of love and in the midst of arguments.

“Mm,” you raised the ring up to observe it once more. “That would be a different story.”

“Humour me.”

He held your chin between his thumb and index, brushing the fingers along your skin and giving you no choice but to hold his gaze.

Your lips rolled in against your teeth, biting them together before answering. “If you don’t know by now maybe we shouldn’t be having this conversation.”

His smile grew, and small shake of his shoulders when he laughed. “You know that I know,” he muttered, leaning in towards you so that he could brush his lips over your temple. “I just like hearing it.”

A little breath of a laugh escaped past your lips, as Harry moved his lips down to hover near yours. He tried to pull your mouth in with his, but you titled your head over just as he landed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Still haven’t kissed you,” his nose nudged your cheek. “Let me give you a kiss.”

Your placed one of your hands over his shoulder, pushing him back just enough that you could see his eyes. “I can’t kiss someone else’s husband.”

“Darling,” he drew out the word, leaning back in towards you with a gentle kiss placed over your cupids bow. “Let up –”

“I’m serious,” completely opposing to your words, your hand slid around his neck to keep him close.

Harry let out a sigh with a glint in his eyes, hand leaving your hip and slid up to where the highly scrutinized ring sat in your palm. Quickly grabbing hold of it, he glanced at it before meeting your eyes again.

“What if we gave it a try then?” He hummed, leaning back in towards you and pressed a few kisses along the line of your jaw before his lips brushed against your ear. “See how it feels?”

You hummed into the air, letting your head tilt back on your neck when his lips pushed over the sensitive skin under your jaw. “What do you mean?”

His teeth grazed over you before muttering into your skin. “Want you around my fingers – let’s see how I could make you come if you we were married.”

You clenched around nothing at his words. Head tilting back down, your lips caught his with quick brush before you spoke. “Wouldn’t I have to be wearing a ring as well?”

Harry nodded with a slight chuckle, slipping the ring back onto his finger. “I’m working on that.”

You let his words hover between you for barely a second, before giving in and planting your lips over his. He instantly took to your mouth, hand sliding around your jaw and to the back of your neck while his hips pushed you further against the table.

Mouths parting for only a brief moment as he angled your jaw towards his, other hand splaying out over your hip and fiddled with the band of your jeans. Fingers hooking into the belt loops, he tugged your hips into his with a small grunt building from the back of his throat. Mouths meeting in a kiss once again, your tongue easily met his as lips hastily fell open.

You were both greedy and desperate, your hands gripping tightly at his shoulders as he kept you trapped between his body and the table. His own hand moved from your neck and down your back, pulling at the loose fabric of your shirt until your bare skin met his.

He was moving fast, trailing fingers over your bare stomach before finding the little button that kept your jeans together. His mouth broke from yours and instead landed down your jaw and to your neck, this time showing no hesitation when his teeth grazed along your skin. A quiet moan escaped past your lips, his name laced with the sound as your need for him grew.

Clearly as eager as you were, he worked fast to pop the button of your pants and tug the zipper down. He was pulling down the loose denim with both hands until the dropped down by your ankles. You managed to kick them off, not having a care about where they ended up.

He moved his lips away from where they were at your shoulder, letting his head hang with his forehead pressed to yours and heavy inhales to catch his breath. One of his arms was wrapped around the small your back, holding you close while his left hand dropped lower to feel over the skin of your thighs.

Your gaze met his, blown pupils and reddened cheeks as small breaths left his swollen lips. You loved seeing him like this, focused and excited to get you off.

He dropped his head down lower, lips kissing over your shirt until he found your pert nipple underneath the fabric. He had loved how rarely you seemed to where a bra during confinement, and when you did it was usually just a thin flimsy material that could easily be pushed aside.

Wetting through the shirt with his tongue, his lips circled around your nipple as his teeth gave it a slight tug that had you whining for him to get on with it. He hummed against you, clearly pleased with the way you were craving to feel him. He moved away after a moment, both his hands now circling around your thighs as he massaged the sensitive skin. Left hand pushing between your legs as he wordlessly prompted you to part them for him. His lips were grazing back up from your chest, dotting your skin with quick kisses.

“Missed you more than usual today,” he whispered over you, raising his head with his mouth brushing yours. “Couldn’t stop thinking of you when they gave me the ring to wear.”

His hand was trailing random patterns over the skin of your thighs, light tickles that made your legs jolt slightly both at the feeling and at the growing anticipation. One of his palms slid back between your bum and the table, giving the soft skin a tight squeeze. Gripping over the thin fabric that still covered you, he moved his hand around your ass to cup your cunt from behind.

One of your hands was tugging at his hair, pushing through the gelled curls, no doubt pulling them up in every which way. “Do something…”

“Oh, now you want me?” His touch was light as he felt over you, roaming hand left you far too soon, and bypassed where you wanted to feel it most. Instead it toyed with the band of your underwear, as he pulled and snapped it back against your skin. “Help me get you out of these.”

With a lift to your hips you helped him pull the tight material off, the long-forgotten garment soon falling to your ankles. You parted your thighs for him once again, cool air over your wet centre soon replaced by his hand cupping over you. Two fingers pushed through your inner lips, moving up with a light brush over your clit before he pulled away.

“Soaked,” you could hear the smile in his voice, as you titled you head to catch his eyes. He raised his hand, bringing his fingers to your mouth. Tapping your bottom lip with the ring finger once more, waiting for you to part you mouth open for him.

“Open up.”

Eagerly doing as he said, his finger was back in your mouth once more. This time you didn’t catch the ring between your teeth, feeling it rest against your lips as you tongue circled around the digit.

He quickly withdrew his hand, sliding it over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh before the same wet finger pushed over your slit. Small whine built from the back of your throat at the motion, urging him to properly get you off with his hand.

“Please,” you whimpered into the air, feeling Harry’s mouth ghost your neck when your head fell back over your shoulders.

“Want to feel me fucking you as a married man, that’s what you want?”

His words sent a new wave of heat throughout your body, fingers griping onto him tighter as you waited for him to finally let up with his teasing.

“Yes – yes,” you were quickly cut off when he gave you want you wanted, ring finger pushing into you in a quick move. You clenched around him, sure that you would be able to feel the coolness of the metal ring if it hadn’t just been in your warm mouth.

His thumb nudged your clit, easily causing a moan to tumble from your lips. Starting with slow, drawn out circles over the sensitive bit of nerves, pulling your jaw back to him with his other hand. His chin hit yours, searching for your mouth as you easily complied and let him kiss you. Tongue eased in your mouth, no doubt feeling the small slack in your jaw when he pressed over your clit once more and you quietly whimpered against him. He was kissing you as slow as he was teasing you, edging you to beg for him.

“How does it feel?” He muttered against your mouth, slow pumps of his finger inside of you. He curled the single finger, hitting deliciously against the spot that had you bucking your hips up for more.

“The ring – how does it feel?”

He pumped his finger at an increasing speed, urging you to feel every hit of his skin on yours. Thumb over your clit was pressing tightly against you, sending small waves of pleasure up your spine and through your stomach as you held him close.

“Like I wanna marry you,” you whimpered against his collarbone, tugging at the shorter hair that stuck out above his neck.

Clearly satisfied with your answer, he slid in another finger. You could hear how wet you were by how quickly he was pushing his fingers into you, wanting nothing more than to have you come undone around him.

He knew every move to make to get you towards your orgasm. His mouth found your neck once more, hot and wet kisses graced over your skin and he moaned against you. Your own head was tilted back, unashamedly panting into the air as you spent all the energy you had focusing on his every touch. When you clenched around him, if you focused you could feel the simple wedding band that graced his ring finger just at your entrance when he moved it in and out.

Curling up in inside you, he had you repeatedly moaning his name as a beg to cum. His touch over your clit was light, no doubt wanting to milk out your desire for him as long as he could.

Your boyfriend’s mouth had moved away from your neck, instead choosing to keep his face hovering near yours to watch as you got pushed further and further towards climax. “Look so fucking good,” he muttered lowly, pressing a kiss over your parted mouth and swallowed your groans.

“Love seeing you like this,” the edge of his teeth caught your skin. “All mine, yeah?”

You weakly nodded, feeling the tight coil in your lower stomach grow nearly unbearably. “All yours.”

“Love how you feel around me,” he groaned, lips seeking your once more.

You titled your head back over your shoulders once more, letting out a low moan from deep in your throat when he started his work over your clit once more. “Do you love me?”

Your words were weak, quiet as you cleared your throat to repeat them. “Do you love me?”

“So fucking much,” he said immediately, chasing your mouth. “You have no idea.”

Hot coil in the pit of your stomach seemed to double in pressure as he kissed the words over your mouth, repeating over and over how much he loved you.

You were being edged closer and closer, his thumb over your clit swiftly rubbing wet circles over it as his fingers never let up.

Your head fell to the crook of his neck, forehead against his shoulder as you bit your lips tight together. “Wanna cum,” you moaned quietly, the words nearly not heard by Harry.

“Look at me,” he grunted, fingers of his free hand moving to your jaw as he cupped your face. “Love seeing you – y’look so pretty when you cum.”

That little encouragement was all you needed, and after whines of how good he was making you feel escaped your mouth at an increasing speed before you let your orgasm take over your body. You couldn’t help shutting your eyes tight, feeling his mouth over yours as you moaned his name over and over. Clenching tightly around his fingers, their unrelenting moving inside of you not stopping.

Your legs were losing their strength, you had to support yourself on the table behind you. Your hands were still tight around Harry’s shoulders, holding onto him as hot breaths were sound throughout the air. Your walls were fluttering around him, as you whined softly when you grew sensitive. Jolting lightly when his thumb pressed over your clit again, he slowly eased his fingers out of you and letting out a shaky breath.

Just as you had before, he pushed his fingers that had been wettened by your arousal into his mouth, tasting you with an appreciative hum just as he always did.

The same hand after slipping out of his mouth, wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a lazy kiss.

He caught your hand in his, still pressing closely against you. His thumb brushed over your bare ring finger, just as you had done with his ring covered one.

“Not fair that you’re the only one who gets to wear a ring,” you hummed with a soft voice, brushing your other hand under his shirt and over his chest.

“I told you,” Harry smiled. “I’m working on it.”

[tteokggukk]

golden hour → jjk

» pairing: photographer! jungkook x reader

» genre: smut, established relationship, pwp

» words: 3.4k

» warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, some dirty talk, fingering, oral (m/f receiving), deepthroating, cunnilingus, penetration, teasing, edging-ish, jungkook is kind of??? a dom, jungkook loves kissing, use of ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ as pet names, tattooed and long haired jungkook (which isn’t rlly a warning but just in case??), and a boudoir shoot.

» summary: when your boyfriend jungkook is stressed out over a certain project, you decide to comfort him and help him de-stress by taking a mini-photoshoot during golden hour. what you don’t expect is how he turns your innocent suggestion into a boudoir shoot.

» a/n: hello omg this is the first time i’m ever posting smut and all i wanna say is i tried. this is like a practice shot or smth but i swear i’ll learn askldlaskdjl feel free to leave comments and suggestions :’> AhAHAGSGHA

permanent taglist: this is the first time i’m posting with a permanent taglist and i’m tagging just in case but since this is a smut please let me know if you’re not comfortable with smut works so i can only tag you in non-smut ones, thank you! @mochisjoon​ @boraength @rageyoudamnednerd

Sundays were one of your favorite days of the week. It was your chance to unwind and ease yourself before preparing for work again the next day. It was also one of the days where you could spend your time just lying down on your bed with your longtime boyfriend, Jungkook, where you felt the safest in his arms. Today though, Jungkook was focused on his desk retouching pictures he took for a client.

It was a quiet and peaceful day in your apartment. You didn’t have much to do, so you decided to catch up on some reading while lying in bed partnered with a cup of tea on the side table. You loved how you respected each other enough in your relationship that neither of you minded or intervened the other when working on your separate interests. You could do your own thing while he would do his, so it was nice to still have that sense of freedom and independence. The two of you spent the whole day focused on your separate agendas.

Neither of you realized how the sun was beginning set, slowly dimming the room into a warm tint of orange.

From time to time, Jungkook would ask for your opinion on the shots he was fixing and you’d give him your honest opinion (you’ve picked up photography terms and technicalities that you learned from him when you first started dating). He was glad that you were of help, kissing your hand every time he heard your input, but you couldn’t help but notice how stressed he was over this one project. He’d make a low, grunting sound every hour and run his hands through his hair in frustration. Occasional clicking noises and sighs would slip from his mouth and it bothered you to see him like this. He was normally excited and quick when working on projects, but this one in particular was putting him at his wit’s end.

Getting up from bed, you decide to give your boyfriend some comfort in a way that you could. Placing your book aside, you walked over to him. You positioned your hands on his shoulders before applying soft, circular motions just below his nape, causing him to hum in pleasure and tilt his head back. He lets you massage him for a moment until he takes both your hands and rests them on his chest.

“I’m sorry I haven’t spent much time with you today,” he apologizes.

“Don’t be,” you tell him, “I know how important this is to you—but you seem really stressed about it.”

“The client has so many requests and they keep making changes at the last minute, I can’t really figure out what they want,” He sighs, obviously exasperated at the client he was currently handling.

“How urgent is this?” You ask.

“Not very?” He turns his ergonomic chair around to face you, pulling you close to make you sit on his lap, “I just wanted to get it done as fast as I could to leave some days for readjustments.” Of course, he was always such a perfectionist and you admired that about him.

“So why don’t you take a break? Watch some shows, lie down, or take new pictures as a “palette cleanser”,” You suggest, noticing how his eyebrows raise at the suggestion of taking pictures. Jungkook looks out the window before looking back at you, “Well it is golden hour,” he grins.

“Can I take pictures of you?” He asks with his doe eyes beaming brightly, making it impossible for you to say no to him.

“Sure, why not?” You agreed and got up while he followed after you with his personal camera.

Thanks to the huge window in your apartment, the warm color of the setting sun hit all the right spots in your room. The bed was well lit, so you two decided to hold the mini-shoot on it. You knew exactly what kind of poses Jungkook liked in pictures, it made your heart flutter every time he praised you for doing so well. His favorite shots were always the ones where you modeled in them—you were his muse, after all, and there hasn’t been a single shot of you that left him dissatisfied.

It didn’t take long before you were fully immersed in switching to different poses for him, you hadn’t noticed how the strap of your silk camisole began sliding off your left shoulder. Jungkook, however, took a clear notice on the simple slip of your clothing, rousing an interesting idea in his head.

You watched as Jungkook scanned the pictures, not quite expecting him to ask, “Do you wanna try a boudoir shoot?”

Your eyes grow wide at the question, unsure with what kindled the suggestion. His eyes meet yours and he mistakenly reads the expression on your face for hesitance, “It’s okay if you don’t want to, babe. It was just an idea.”

“No, I do,” You said quickly. You weren’t nervous at all, and honestly you were determined to help him get his mind off the stress he’s been through the whole day—you thought you’d do just about anything, “I was just wondering why you suddenly thought of doing that kind of shoot,” you laughed.

“So should I take these off then?” you held onto the hem of your camisole, making Jungkook smile and nod in response.

As you slowly began to undress, Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at you while you disposed of the clothes that covered every outline of your body. After all these years, seeing your body always felt like the first time for him—it was something he never got tired of, his amazement at your figure never faded.

“Maybe I should change into lingerie,” You muttered, realizing you were only wearing your plain, nude-colored underwear. Jungkook stopped you before you got out of bed.

“I think you look perfect in those,” He says, a fond look in his eyes. You slowly moved back and sat down again, a blush creeping on your cheeks. “Psh,” was all you could say, making him chuckle at how you were flustered by the comment.

Taking boudoir shoots wasn’t exactly your forte, so Jungkook had to guide and direct you on what you had to do with your body. He’d gently move your arms and feet to his desired angle, and though it was awkward at first, you eventually got the hang of it.

You were definitely a quick learner, and Jungkook noticed that. Through the lens, he started seeing how you got comfortable with the intimate poses and how your facial expressions could easily capture the mood. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare at your eyes before his gaze trailed down to your pink lips, where you lasciviously bit on your finger. He had to clear his throat before he finally took the picture.

The light coming from the windows did more than just reflect the golden hour in his shots. From your perspective, the lighting made it impossible not to notice the bulge forming in his grey sweatpants, which cast a shadow near his upper thigh. You bite your lip at the sight, your heart beginning to thump rapidly at the thoughts racing in your head.

A coy smile tugs upon your lips as you position yourself in a new pose, bringing yourself to your knees. Jungkook watches as you slowly remove the straps of your bra from your shoulders, leaving yourself to hold the cups in place. He gulps nervously and tries to hide it with a cough, but this only urges you to do more.

You continue teasing him by curving your back and gripping on the sheets, causing him to let out a frustratingly deep breath. This goes on for a couple more minutes with several other poses until he couldn’t take it anymore—with the simple movement of holding your hair up and exposing your nape, which you knew drove him wild, he brings the camera down from his face.

“You’re getting too good at this, aren’t you?”

His voice was much deeper now than it was previously as he begins to walk over to the bed. “Am I?” You ask, pretending not to notice his eyes that were now a shade darker along with the outline of his length protruding from his sweats, “Are we done? Did the pictures come out good?”

“Mhm,” he hums, sitting down on the edge of the bed to face you, leaning into your neck to whisper into your ear, “Really good.”

“Then I take it you’ll probably get back to work now?” You asked, leaning backwards to look at him, “You seem de-stressed enough. Good luck, babe!” You playfully peck his cheek before turning away from him as a joke, bringing the straps of your bra back to your shoulders.

“Not quite,” He says sternly, “Let me help you with that.”

With one swift movement, Jungkook immediately unhooks your bra as a gasp leaves your lips. He watches you clutch onto it, trying to cover your nearly exposed chest. You turn back to face him only to be met by Jungkook’s soft lips crashing into yours. He starts leaning into you, leaving you lying down on the bed with your bra still (but only barely) covering your chest. He was towering over you now, a smirk forming on his lips as he notices your cheeks turning into a darker shade of red.

“Nice try, you think I don’t know what you’re doing?” he says darkly while raising a brow. You bit your lip and felt the urge to start kissing him, but the way he leaned back clearly meant he had other plans.

“Such a good model, aren’t you?” He moves back and takes your right leg, peppering your inner thigh with kisses as he steadily moves up towards your stomach while his long hair tickled your skin. He then moves up to your chest until finally reaching your collarbone, “Is this what you had in mind to relieve my stress?”

He starts planting soft kisses on your neck, gradually turning them into harsh sucking and leaving several marks on your skin. A small moan escapes your lips as he finds that sweet spot on your neck, the sound making him smirk in confidence. His left hand is pressed onto the mattress for support while the other cupped your face.

When his mouth leaves your neck, he looks into your eyes for a brief moment and gently takes your chin to pull you in for a kiss. His soft lips that move against yours so perfectly partnered with the musky scent of his perfume were enough for your mind to go in a haze. Your hands move up to his neck before slowly moving up to gently tug on his hair, making him hum in pleasure. Jungkook’s tongue begins to glide over your lips, and you take this as a cue to open your mouth and give him access to your tongue.

He breaks away for a moment to take his shirt off, the sight of his bare torso making you crave him even more. The way his muscles flexed certainly did things to you, you wished you had the ability to see his gorgeous back while simultaneously looking at his toned abdomen.

He notices the small tug on your lips after removing his shirt and sends you a teasing smile, “Well aren’t you enjoying this?”

“Always,” you sighed, making him giggle. He leans forward once again for your lips to meet. Softly, you bite on his lower lip before he makes his way towards your cheek, then down towards your neck, and finally to your chest where your bra laid atop your breasts. He takes the garment between his teeth and takes it with his hand, tossing it over to a nearby chair where it perfectly hung over the backrest. You don’t know why, but that act alone caused your arousal pool even more—you had to resist gasping out loud in amazement.

His tongue begins to skillfully swirl over your nipple and your breath hitches at the action. His tattooed hand takes your other breast and cups it, lightly kneading and squeezing it.

“Mmmh, that feels good,” You moan softly while your fingers run through the strands of his hair. Once his lips leave your breast, he gives you a quick kiss before moving down to your thighs where he slightly spreads them apart.

“Oh, babe,” he purrs while playing with the waistband of your underwear, “This wet already?” He continues to lightly peck your inner thighs while his hand rubs on your pussy that was still covered by your undergarment. Your breathing had turned heavy as you waited for his next move, but he seemed to enjoy teasing you like this.

“Jungkook, please...” Your voice almost came out as whisper.

His eyes look up to meet yours, a “Please what, baby?”

“Please me,” you whined.

“Please you? And what do you want me to do?” He smirks, rubbing the garter of your underwear between his fingers as if he were about to pull them down any second.

“Take it off,” you begged.

“These?” Slowly, he begins to pull them down and slides them off your thighs. You push yourself up to watch as he takes your underwear in his hands, tossing them to the same chair where he threw your bra. The outline of his cock appeared to be even more protrusive now, and you couldn’t help but slightly salivate at the sight.

He slips his fingers into your folds and brushes them past your clit while quiet whimpers begin to fall from your mouth. Jungkook leans forward as he starts to gradually rub in circles, his eyes focused on yours as he watches the expressions on your face with amusement.

“Ah—fuck,” You fail to bite back a moan as Jungkook begins to pick up the pace, stroking his fingers up and down exactly the way you wanted him to. “Just like that,” you pant.

“Is this what you want?” He whispers into your ear before pulling his hand away, “Or should I get back to work and stop?”

“God, Jungkook, no—!” You cried.

“No, what?” He growls, “Use your words, ___.”

“No, don’t get back to work,” You whined.

“Then what should I do?” His hands continue to slide through your arousal while waiting for your answer.

“Touch me, please.”

He chuckles darkly at your impatience.

“So needy.”

He begins to run his digits along your clit causing your breathing to become unsteady as louder pants escaped your lips. Seeing the veins on his arm while his tattooed fingers worked their way onto your sweet spot turned you on greatly, you found yourself moaning out every profanity you knew. Jungkook slips two of his long fingers into your pussy, causing you to cry his name out loud followed by another curse. He licks his lips at the arousing sound of you blurting out vulgar words while his fingers curled inside you.

“This is what you wanted, babe? For me to fuck you with my fingers, huh?” He inserts a third finger in and you feel the burn from the stretch, hissing at the slight pain. He quickly moves down and positions himself to face your arousal, using his free hand to further spread your legs apart.

“Such a pretty little cunt,” He stares hungrily and runs his tongue across your folds, “Tastes so good.”

Your hands grab onto Jungkook’s soft hair while he continues lapping you up, his tongue skillfully flicking over and sucking on your clit. The motion of his fingers slipping in and out of you paired with the movement of his tongue sent your mind in a frenzy—you could hear just how wet you were and felt your pussy pulsating at his touch.

He continues to delve his tongue into you, humming in delight as he takes in every bit of your arousal. The vibrations from his mouth felt even more stimulating, and though you wanted to feel much more of him than just his mouth, the high you felt was too much for you to be able to push him off.

“W-want you,” You stuttered. Jungkook looks up at you and breathes out a deep laugh, another smirk forming on his lips.

“Me? Where do you want me, babe?” He positions himself above you to plant kisses along your neck which made you smile. Your hands trail all over his torso before sliding down underneath his sweatpants, feeling the length of his cock in your hands. Jungkook lets out a low grunt and crashes his lips back into your neck.

“Want you inside me,” You hum, rubbing his cock underneath his sweats. Jungkook’s breathing begins to turn ragged at your touch, but he manages to pull himself back and take his pants off.

“Kneel, baby,” He instructs, holding your hands to pull you up. You kneel in front of him and watch as he begins to stroke himself, biting your lip at the sight. “Show me how much you want me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Pushing his hand off himself, you wrap your lips around the red tip of his cock. His hand grabs a fistful of your hair as you bob your head up and down his length, your hand pumping the rest of his size. Low groans begin to emit from his mouth while your tongue swirled around the head, and to show him just how much you wanted him to be inside you, you dared yourself to take him deep inside your throat.

“F-fuck, ___, you’re so good,” He breathes out in shock at how much of him you’re taking in. Slight tears form in your eyes as his grip on your hair tightens, momentarily gagging you.

Jungkook’s hands finally frees the strands of your hair as he leans forward into you, pushing you back onto the mattress. Prying your legs apart, he takes his cock in his hand and teases your entrance, brushing the tip up on your clit and causing heat to form in your stomach.

“Please, Jungkook,” you whined, unable to wait any longer. Another smile tugs on his lips at your eagerness and before you knew it, you were gripping on the sheets while Jungkook sank deep into you. The movement of his hips thrusting into you has your back arching and your toes curling while you moaned his name in pleasure.

Jungkook continues to pick up the pace. You could feel the way his cock moved against your walls, hitting the exact spot that sent lightning through your veins while your fingernails dug deeper into his shoulders—the groans and heavy breathing coming from your boyfriend turning you on even more. His eyes meet yours for a quick second and for a moment he thinks about wanting to capture you just like this.

“So beautiful,” he pants, “And so, so needy.”

It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself reaching your climax, and it’s brought even closer by the sudden circular motion of Jungkook’s digits rubbing against your clit. A strangled moan comes out of you as he continues to thrust even deeper while his fingers added pressure on your bud. Your body starts to shake as your orgasm ripples through you, causing you to scream his name out for who knows how loud. Your walls clench around him as he continues to fuck you through your high and fills you up, followed by the sound of his own moans. His hips begin to slow down and he eventually pulls out of you.

Jungkook’s lips crash into yours before lying down next to you, pulling you in so you were lying down on his arm while covering the two of you with a blanket. Neither of you noticed how dark the sky had turned and how the only light coming into the apartment were from the streetlights outside. The only sound in the apartment came from the cars outside and you two catching your breaths.

“You’re amazing,” he sighs, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” You grin and curl your legs with his, “Are you good, now? Feeling better enough to retouch pictures?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jungkook chuckles, “But those aren’t urgent.”

“I thought you wanted to get it done as fast as you could?” You laughed.

“I know, but it’s already dark out, so I should be spending time with you,” he says and plants a kiss on your temple. From underneath the sheets, you could feel his hands travelling to squeeze your inner thigh just as he moves closer into your ear before whispering in a low, inviting tone.

“…and one round isn’t enough, don’t you think?”

↣ all rights reserved © 2020 tteokggukk. please do not repost. translations/modifications are not allowed.

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie fanfiction: Playing house (Rated T, Humor) Part 1

In which the ones at the end of time place them in a reality where they are a married couple in a suburban town, à la WandaVision.

Master list of my Loki x Sylvie fanfiction can be found here.

---

They didn't know what to expect at the end of time. But they certainly didn't expect to open the door to the citadel and walk into a town.

"This must be an illusion", Loki says in horror as he takes in his new surroundings- two storied houses in every shade of pastel, gardens of roses, lillies and lilacs, wide open roads, pavements lined with freshly cut bushes. "This isn't real."

It looks real enough though. It feels real too.

This is the quintessential suburban town. And they are in a quintessential suburban house.

"They have trapped us in a nightmare", Loki concludes, scanning the new neighborhood again, this time spotting the children playing tennis in the front lawn of the house next door.

Sylvie touches the door frame with the words "Mr. and Mrs. Low-key" etched in the wood in gold. Her fingers trace the letters. It feels so surreal and impossible, yet it feels just as real as she is. "Apparently, we're married in this reality."

"It's not all bad then", he concludes cheekily.

She gives him a death stare. "I don't have time to play house with you right now."

He shrugs. "Until we find a way out, we have to." He checks out the neighborhood one last time for any identifiable imminent threats, before walking back into the house- their house. Holding the door open, he gestures to Sylvie. "Coming?"

She smooths the wrinkles in the sundress she has ended up with, vowing to definitely kill the bastards that did this.

-

The interior of the house does not suit two gods of mischief at all. It's all very... quaint. The sofa is soft and snuggly, the telly hanging from the velvet painted walls is huge, her wardrobe has way too many dresses and skirts, and the knives in the kitchen look like they'd be hard to kill a man with.

"Can you conjure me up something less-" she vaguely gestures at her figure, her lips arched in an angle that spells distaste.

He understands exactly what she means, but does exactly what he wants. With a snap of his fingers, he conjures up an entire rack of clothes for her.

She checks them out one by one, noticing how every jeans, every top is designed a specific way. "These look very tight."

His grin tells her it's intentional.

"You know I can still wipe that smug look off your face in this reality, right?" Her voice expresses how serious she is.

He waves his hands again, and this time, a second rack of clothes materialises, ones which are more functional.

She picks a jeans and oversized top and disappears into the bedroom.

He plops down on the sofa, staring at the Van Gogh hanging from the wall, wondering what their next move should be.

---

The ring of the doorbell breaks them out of their contemplation.

Sylvie grabs every single knife she can find in the kitchen drawers, Loki grabs the mop. Gesturing to each other, they open the door at the count of three, to find a woman standing there with a casserole in her hands.

"Hiya neighbor", she says cheerily. "I heard that you two just moved in. Oh my, that's a lot of knives."

Sylvie holds one up to her throat. "Who sent you?"

The woman grimaces, keeping her eyes fixed at the spot where the knife touches her skin. "My husband. He thought we should welcome our neighbors."

"Liar", Sylvie barks, and increases the pressure on the knife. "Tell me who sent you here before I cut your tongue out and feed it to the cats."

It's at this moment that Loki decides he has to intervene before the situation escalates to unnecessary murder.

"Sylvie, Sylvie, honey", he coos, slowly guiding her away with a gentle touch to her shoulders. "This lovely woman is not the friend I was expecting." He pushes her inside the house, at a safe distance from the lady, before throwing a charming smile in her direction. "I am so sorry. My friend was supposed to visit, I asked my wife to help me play a prank on her. She thought it was you. It's all a giant misunderstanding. Allow me to apologize profusely on behalf of my wife."

Sylvie switches between glaring at the lady and at her "husband".

The lady laughs nervously. "It's quite alright."

Loki extends his hand. "Hi, I'm Loki." He wraps his other arm around Sylvie's waist to pull her close. She tenses, and for a moment he thinks the knife will end up aimed at his throat, but she relaxes a little and gives the neighbor a tiny smile. "And this is my wonderful wife, Sylvie."

The lady shakes his hand. "I'm Agnes. So nice to meet you. Where are you from? Low-key, that sounds Nordic. Are you from Norway?"

"No."

"Yes."

They answer at the same time, then glare at each other, as if their answer was the only acceptable one.

Loki rushes to fix it before Agnes gets suspicious. "What my wife means is, we are from Norway originally, but we moved here from Alabama."

Agnes smiles. "That's a long way from home. Welcome to the neighborhood."

---

Sylvie erupts the moment the neighbor leaves and their doors are closed. "Why the bloody hell are we playing along with this ruse?"

Loki looks at her seriously. "What is the alternative? Murder our way out of here? Slaughter an entire innocent town?"

"No, no, no no." She paces till she is standing directly in front of him, holding her chin up in a posture of challenge. "Why slaughter a town when you can rule it, right?"

He lets out a sigh. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he takes in a deep breath. He needs all the strength in the world to reason with her. He opens his eyes again and begins. "We don't know how we got here. We don't know what dangers are here. We can't plan an escape like that. We need to gather information and learn everything we can about this place."

"This place is clearly hell", she roars, letting out a scream that shoots a wave of energy out of her hands and shatters the coffee table.

"Perfect", he mutters under his breath, as he picks up the mop.

---

"I'm hungry." She announces after an hour of sitting on the sofa, sulking, while going through the hundred different channels and trying to pick even a single thing worth watching.

"Oh yes, me too." He agrees quickly. "Starving, actually."

She motions at the cell phones on the table that the house came with. "I suppose we should order something like humans do."

"Yes, of course." He nods in agreement. He picks up the phone closest to him, swipes up the screen, and sees the wallpaper of him and Sylvie, on a beach, hand in hand, in matching Hawaiin shirts, with matching grins on their faces. He knows this isn't real, this has never actually happened to them, but it makes him smile anyway. Swiping to the side, he notices the phone comes with too many games. There are also apps that he knows from advertisements. Opening one that promised good food in no time, he stares blankly at the incoherent list that pops up.

She gets impatient after a few minutes. "Well?"

He purses his lips. It's difficult to admit defeat. "I don't actually know how to order."

She blinks in disbelief. "What?"

"I don't know how to order food." He repeats.

"How can you not know how to order food?"

"Well, I've never had to do it myself." He says, irritated, before his tone turns boastful. "I've always had someone do it for me." Food was never even a concern in Asgard. On earth, he has always had some human gladly do it for him. No God would ever bother with the trivial details of food ordering.

"Lucky you." She says dryly, before snatching the phone out of his hands. She pauses to look at the wallpaper as well, at the waves and the sand and the two happy people that represent a life that they can have if they choose to. Before the thought can take its root in her mind, she quickly focuses on ordering.

He stares at her in awe. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I didn't exactly grow up in an Asgardian palace." She rolls her eyes. "I had jobs, Loki. I know how to look after myself."

"I am so glad I'm stuck here with you." He says with a grin. "It makes everything easier."

"It's not that easy. We still need to pay for the food." She points out. Then a horrifying thought occurs to her. "Do we even have money?"

He wants to point out he can just conjure some, but before the words can form in his mouth, she rushes to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers. He follows, and opens the refrigerator, staring at the inside of the freezer.

"People don't keep cash in the freezer, Loki."

"I knew that." He lies.

She switches to the bedroom, and he follows her there as well. She looks through the dresser drawer, the wardrobe, and searches under the pillow. He looks under the bed.

"Look at us. Searching for money to buy food with. What a shame." He muses out loud. "Mortals used to offer food to Gods."

"Food and virgins." She spits the words out angrily. "I hate these archaic ways."

"Oh, me too, me too." He pretends to agree. He likes being worshipped. He likes the food and the offerings. The virgins? Well, he took virgins in a very different, very alive way, and they were all very willing.

"I don't think we have money in this house." She announces, sitting down on the bed with a huff. "Is this his masterplan? Make us starve to death?"

"Allow me." He snaps his fingers, and wads of cash appears in her hands. This is what he was going to do before Sylvie started searching and he decided it's best to first find out what useful items they have in this house.

"That's handy", she notes. "I suppose it'll be easy for you to do chores around the house."

"I don't do chores." He declares.

She glares at him.

"I don't know how to do chores." He clarifies.

Her glare never loses its edge. "Well you better figure it out soon then, before I cut your fingers off."

---

They eat in complete silence, adjusting to this new reality they have found themselves in. Loki tries to make conversation, tries to tell her a story of banquets in Asgard, but she stares absent-mindedly into the distance, and he takes the hint.

Night arrives quickly.

"I'm exhausted. We should sleep." Sylvie admits. She gets up, ready to change into something more comfortable for the night.

He gets up too, and heads in the direction of the other bedroom. Of course, all he wants to do is snuggle up close to her. He can think of a hundred excuses to talk her into it too. But he holds back. "Well, I wish you a very merry slumber."

She doesn't want to focus on why she does it, but she calls out to him. "We should stick together. Just in case the enemy decides to attack while we're asleep."

He stops in his tracks, smiling like a fool. "I agree. Clever plan."

Ten minutes later, they are both awkwardly lying side by side in bed.

Sylvie stares at the ceiling, at the glow-in-the-dark stickers that are shining. "Is that what people's ceilings look like?"

"Mostly children's."

"The constellations..." She notices. "They're slightly different."

"Yes." He smiles. "This is the view from Midgard, not Asgard."

"Oh."

It's quiet for a while. Loki wonders if she fell asleep. Then he hears her whisper. "I hate this."

"Why are you suddenly acting like this?" He finally asks. "You have been patient your whole life, planning everything for years. You always have a plan, and a good one. Now you're suddenly in a rush to get out of here. Why?"

She doesn't answer. She doesn't even open her eyes. With her focus on the darkness behind her eyelids, it is easy to forget that this is the most peaceful evening she has ever had, that this is the life she always wanted, the life she has been fighting for.

He studies her features, memorizing the way she looks when she tries to fall asleep. Tentatively, he touches her hand. Her fingertips twitch involuntarily, before she responds by taking his hand. He gives it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get out of here, I promise you."

---

(To be continued)

[43sparrows]

l o n g e d - {Five x Reader AU}

Read Part 1 & Part 2 & Part 3 / Part 3.5

Warning: smut

Word Count: 2,713

Note: please come scream at me in my inbox

Call me.

You've been dreading this note from Five for the past week. It's not that the words are new--a week ago, it would've been excitement causing the twisting feeling in your stomach--but it's the fact that this is the first note you've gotten since you're meltdown. Sure, he'd brushed off your apology, but it's been almost a full week since you've seen each other, and something just doesn't feel the same. Even your roommate has noticed something's off, and while you've shared the news about your ex, you can't bring yourself to tell her how you've gone and proven yourself to be more work than you're worth to Five. So, while the note itself is normal enough, you have the sinking sensation that this is his version of "We need to talk."

And you don't want to talk.

That's why it takes you hours to finally steel yourself up enough to return his call. The sky's growing dark by the time you dial in the number, standing in the hall with you head tilted back against the wall, the phone cord weaving between your fingers.

"Five." His brusque voice makes you want to hang up the phone. Instead, you adjust your grip and tug at the cord.

"Hey," you say, softly. "It's Y/N."

"Took you long enough." His voice is still flirting with being abrasive, but he's saying more than just a couple of words which must mean something. You're not sure what though. "What are you doing in...two hours?"

Confusion knits your brow together as you wrap the cord around one of your fingers. "Nothing, I'm free."

"Howling Rock Cafe. I'll be at the bar."

"Ok," you agree. There's a pause and then the other end of the line goes dead.

You sigh before slowly untangling yourself from the cord so you can hang up the phone and get ready

It's glaringly obvious within the first few seconds of entering the bar that this is not Five's scene.

You can't help but compare this place to the smoky night club where you first met.  It's like night and day--and not just because this place has strobe lights bathing just about every inch of the room in colorful lights.

For one, it seems to be crawling with barely legal drinkers. It's not like the two of you are that far removed in age from the rest of the crowd, but Five doesn't exactly seem the type to want to relive college nights out.

And then there's a cover band with the amps turned up way too high as they work their way through pop covers. You miss the lyric-less music of the other bar with its relentless beat that seemed to reverberate in your chest.

It crosses your mind that maybe Five had meant another place or that you'd misheard him on the phone, but then you catch sight of him sitting at the bar with a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

"What are you drinking?" You ask, slipping into the seat next to him. He looks at you with heavy lidded eyes, pupils already blown wide. His gaze slides from the curve of your breasts that disappear beneath the plunging neckline of your little black dress down to your legs.

His eyes flick back up to meet yours. "Brandy. For now."

The line would be clumsy on another man's lips, but something about the way he says it has you dizzy, and it's the one piece of Five that's seemed anywhere close to normal since that night.

You tear your eyes away from him, flagging down the bartender to order yourself a gin, neat.

"So," you say, anxiety knotting in the pit of your stomach as you toy with the question that's been on your mind the entire way to the bar. "Howl's?" You change course last second, asking a different, less terrifying question.

"I've heard things about this place," Five said with a shrug. "Figured I'd check them out."

"What'd you hear?" It's genuine curiosity, and maybe it's the refocused attention or maybe it's the large gulp of gin, but you feel yourself relaxing slightly.

"I heard they're heavy pourers," Five says, taking a sip of his drink. He lifts both eyebrows and places the glass back down on the bar.  "But it would seem I heard wrong."

You laugh. Nothing about this place suggests they have strong drinks. The prices are too cheap. The crowd is too young.

"At least the atmosphere is nice," you quip, and Five looks around the room before shooting you a mildly amused look. He opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by a loud group of co-eds who just walked in the door. You turn to look. One is draped in a pink "It's my birthday!" sash. This does not bode well.

"Let's go back to mine. I've restocked," you offer, but Five shakes his head. You wait for him to share a reason or even pick up the sentence he didn't get out, but he doesn't, instead taking another sip of his subpar brandy.

You wish that you had your own drink in front of you, shooting a look at the bartender who looks to be making about four drinks at once. The knot inside of you has come back, growing even tighter as the silence extends. Silence has never been uncomfortable with Five before.

You attribute this largely to the fact that up until this point you've always been so careful about following the rules of engagement, as it were. And while you don't know for sure, it feels like you're guilty of a breach of contract. You wish you could remember what you said, but you can hardly even remember what you did. It's all a blur.

You know he came over, you announced your ex's engagement, and then he tucked you into bed and made sure you had coffee the next morning.

There had to have been more to that night than just that, though. Because emotions and caretaking--that wasn't part of the deal.

Then again, neither was going out to bars.

The  bartender placed your gin in front of you and gratefully you took a long drink from it. You could feel Five's eyes on you as you lowered the glass back down.

"That kind of day?" he asked.

You returned your attention to him. "That kind of week," you corrected. He nodded and toasted you with his own glass before the both of you drank.

You tapped your finger lightly against the side of your gin, the alcohol had yet to take hold but you could feel the warming sensation flowing through you. It was enough of a comfort to know that soon the nerves that had been humming beneath your skin all week would be quiet. "So, why are we here?" The words slipped past your lips, earning a raised eyebrow from Five.

"I told you, I wanted to check this place out."

"That's it?" Your finger still beat steadily against the side of your glass.

You could see the awareness dawn on Five, a sly smile twisting at his lips. "I can't just want your company?"

Your heart skipped a beat. Or maybe it was three. And although the alcohol was supposed to have you pleasantly numb, instead you felt like you were on fire. "I would have thought you had enough of my company after last week."

Realization reached his eyes this time as he shook his head at you. "No," he said, angling his body more towards yours. "I haven't had enough."

The two of you are in the bathroom two hours later.

As far as bar bathrooms go, it's surprisingly clean and roomy. The second part is probably due to the fact the owners had opted for a single use closet style bathroom as opposed to anything remotely functional for the size of the crowd this place has drawn in with it's mediocre music and watered down drinks.

It's not the worst place to have sex, but if you were in your right mind you probably would have insisted that Five pop you back to your place instead. But the consecutive drinks and Five's hand trailing up your thigh had been so intoxicating, you didn't even protest when he took your hand in his and dragged you in here to push you up against the sink.

His mouth is on your neck now, his teeth lightly nipping at the skin there, his hands keeping your dress bunched up at your waist. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he moves your panties to the side, pressing a finger into you. "Five," you mumble, a moan escaping you as he curls his finger.

"Louder," Five commands, his lips grazing against your neck, moving down to trail love bites along your collarbone. He pushes into you again, and his name falls from your lips again, this time at a normal volume.

"Louder," Five urges, kissing under your jaw, as you fist the back of his shirt in your hands. Your entire body feels like a taut string, and he's just getting started. You know this has to be quick, there's probably going to be a line outside, but the way his fingers are moving has effectively killed all thoughts outside of the fact that you haven't lost him. He's still, in some small way, yours.

"Five, please," you plead, and you're not quite sure what you're pleading for--release or more of him.

"Fuck," he swears, withdrawing from you and spinning you around, so you have both hands on either side of the sink, your ass exposed to him. He leans in close, and you can feel the length of his entire body against your back.  "I love it when you beg." His whisper is hot in your ear, and a needy gasp leaves you. Dirty talk isn't part of the usual routine, and you didn't expect it to have such an effect.

He withdraws, his fingers tucking into the sides of your underwear and dragging them down to your knees. Behind you, you hear his buckle clink as he frees himself from his pants. It's a second more of anticipation before his hands find your hips, and he slowly enters you, allowing you to feel each inch of him. His fingers dig into your hips as a groan leaves him. Warmth blooms in your chest, and you promise yourself that you'll remember this moment and that sound forever.

Five continues to move at a sensual pace, and your eyes flick up to the mirror, taking in his face. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and an intense but unidentifiable feeling builds in you. And then his hips unexpectedly snap into yours, earning him a loud moan.

It also seems to earn a knock at the door.

"Alright guys, wrap it up. Other people need to use the bathroom," a gruff voice says on the other side of the door.

It might have been a bit of a mood killer if it weren't for the fact that Five repeats the motion, leaving you gasping. He pulls you up close to him, one hand on your hip and the other toying with your breast. "Can't leave them waiting," he grunts, and your head lolls back onto his shoulder. Despite the fact that it's been shorter than the vast majority of your sessions together, you're more of a needy mess then you've ever been. Maybe it's the combination of the alcohol and publicness and the sounds coming from Five, but whatever it is, it's not long before you're cumming, and not long after, he is too.

There's now pounding at the door.

"Come on, you guys gotta get out. Let's go."

Five smirks at you from where he's pulling his pants back up--or at least, if he was anyone else you'd call it a smirk. It's softer than usual though--although it's still not quite a smile. Like you're in on the joke with him. It makes your heart beat a little faster, and you're just able to stop yourself from a full blown smile, the corners of your mouth turning down in an attempt to seem cool as usual. He gestures with his head towards the door, and after checking yourself in the mirror and making yourself seem slightly more presentable, you follow him out, keeping your eyes trained on the floor so you don't have to look at the bouncer or line of people waiting by the door.

Unfortunately, the bouncer seems to have other plans.

"Y/N?"

You know that voice. Without the door between you and the fake gruffness, it's clear as day, and it feels a bit like someone has dumped a bucket of cold water over your head. You feel painfully sober.

Your eyes widen, and you turn to see your ex dressed in the black t-shirt and jeans, looking just as shocked to see you.

"Oh my God," you mumble.

"Uh--" he says, pointing to the door, and you make your way towards it, Five still next to you, and your ex following up behind you. You stop just beside the door, across from where another bouncer is checking IDs.

"Sorry, I--you can't stay." He does seem genuinely apologetic, and you're not sure if it's just the awkwardness of the whole situation or if he really feels bad.

"No, no. I get it," you shake your head. Five's hand drifts to the small of your back, and your previously blank mind remembers that oh yeah--he's here too. This is the worst moment of your life. "Oh, this is, um, Five. Five, this is Jordan. We...we used to date." That seems like a wildly simplistic introduction for both of them, but you're still reeling.

"Five? Like the kid from The Umbrella Academy?"

Five's smile is so fake you wouldn't be surprised if Jordan could also sense the thinly veiled animosity. "The very same," Five says, holding out his hand and shaking Jordan's. His arm returns around you.

Jordan looks like he's a mixture of confused and impressed, and before this situation can get any worse, you open your mouth and start saying words, hoping they come out in order and make sense.

"I didn't know you work here."

Jordan's eyes linger on Five for a second more before meeting yours. "Yeah, I had to pick up another job...I'm getting married."

"Oh, congratulations." you say less than earnestly, pushing hair behind your ear. Emotion swirls in your chest, pressure building to react--to sob, to scream, to sink into the ground. Anything but stand here.

"Well," Five says, coming to your rescue. "I should take her home." You look up at him, and there's a ghost of smugness on his face. If you hadn't studied him for so long, you might have missed the look, but it's there.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course," Jordan nods, stepping back towards the bar. "It was good to see you, Y/N."

It's a lie. But he's not the only liar here. "You too," you say nodding. "Good luck with the wedding."

"Thanks," he nods again like a bobblehead, and you turn and head out the door quickly with Five.

The two of you walk down the sidewalk and towards the parking garage in silence. It's not until you're passing rows of cars that Five speaks.  "Did you drive?"

You shake your head, your thoughts still on the way Five had handled that situation. You have a terrible feeling.

It's unspoken that Five will give you a ride home, so you don't bother to ask for a ride. Instead, you save up your question, waiting until the two of you are stopped at a red light, halfway home to ask.

"Did you know he worked there?"

The corner of Five's mouth turns up. "Might have been a thing I heard about that place."

You have more questions, but you don't want to ask them. That one was enough to shatter the illusion you'd been creating all night.

That he had brought you out because he wanted your company.

That he might return a hint of the feelings you had for him.

That this was something other than what it was.

Read the final part

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #12

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Suit Story

If you went through Ginza’s Main Street from 7-chome to 1-chome, the change in the city’s atmosphere would shock you. Bulgari, Cartier, Louis Vuitton, Chanel. Felt like you could play shiritori with these high-class brand names. It was a fun neighborhood to stroll around during Christmas season, as all the stores would come up with elaborate plans for the decorative lights, but it was currently autumn. The store most closely related to me in these vicinities was the long-established stationery store where I went to buy stationery. It was, however...

“Please raise your arms a little more.”

“All right.”

“Pull your chin back a bit. Yeah, that’s great.”

“Haah. Is this really right?”

“Of course. Might be hard, but please do relax.”

For whatever reason, I was across the street from the stationery store, practically in front of it, on the second floor of a branded men’s fashion store originally from England. On the walls of this mysterious-gentleman-themed space, which housed a bar counter and even a huge aquarium, there were clusters of business suits, pants and waistcoats with basting threads attached to them in conspicuous spots.

It was a place for taking measurements for custom-made stuff.

I couldn’t get over the feeling that this was some kind of mistake. Wasn’t this the stationery store? The place where you could buy vanilla-colored envelopes for 30 yen each? Or illustrated writing paper with seasonal vibes, or pens.

“Seigi, you are too nervous.”

“Nakata-san is such an imp, but so are you.”

Leaning against the bar counter, Richard shrugged his shoulders, indicating possibility.

Today was Thursday. Having been called by Richard, who said he wanted to ask me to do some odd job, I went over to the front of Etranger, and then we came to this store in the green jaguar. Just when I thought he was gonna make me hang with him for shopping, the man on the driver seat hastily took out his phone, showing me a video letter from my dad, Nakata-san.

“Seigi, congrats on your graduation. I wanted to go suit shopping with you, but I’m in Jakarta, so I’ll be borrowing Richard-san’s assistance for that. Seems like people are getting them custom-made lately. Make sure to buy a good one. Well, see ya.”

Richard had watched over me in the passenger seat as my eyes got wet, but the tears drew back in when we stepped into the store.

While talking lightheartedly about the difference between English and Italian suits, the young clerk, who wasn’t all too apart from me in age, smoothly took my body measurements with a measuring tape and showed me countless textures.

“You can also choose the lining. What should we do about the pockets?”

When I started getting dizzy, said man, who was like a page of suits, began giving me suggestions from behind. I had nowhere to run. I was really going to have my suit made here. As I picked a charcoal-gray suit with blue lining, Richard quickly told me that tanzanite cuffs would look very nice in it. Of course, I was thinking the exact same thing.

By the moment that the Onii-san finished the measuring and disappeared into the back of the store to take notes, I heaved a deep sigh. “This kinda stuff’s been happening a lot lately. All I ever do is receive.”

When I said that, Richard laughed, giggles ringing up his throat.

Richard had two types of smiles, and whenever he raised his voice while laughing, if I refused to back down, he’d often give me a word of advice of some sort. When it was a silent smile, I’d feel like he was telling me in some way to “reflect about myself”, which would make me a bit anxious, but I liked both.

Walking up next to me as I stood in front of the mirror, Richard grinned. “It is no longer guaranteed that your body will grow out of your clothes. Isn’t it fun to sometimes purchase slightly larger clothes and try to wait for your body’s growth?”

“Feeling like this talk doesn’t have the ‘sleep well and drink milk’ kinda nuance to it.”

The reply was a smile. How strange. Richard’s face was right at my left side, but the smile in the mirror was looking directly at me. Clad in a double-button slender silhouette suit, his figure was perfect no matter from what angle I looked at it, like an extraordinarily fine jewel, so my own figure as I tensed up beside him appeared even weirder.

“Hey, Richard, I kinda have the feeling that suits are like the base metals of jewelry.”

“Are you referring to the foundation parts of rings, earrings and such?”

I nodded. The base metal was the metal part that formed the foundation for attaching gemstones to jewelry. In stores, people would often memorize the materials and call them by their names, such as gold base metal or platinum base metal.

It was a part that never played the leading role in Etranger, which handled accessories with gemstones on them. But it’d be hard to wear jewelry on the body without it, and it was also a part that allowed people to express their particularities regarding the materials, durability and design. Whether they would be prominent or not depended on the basis. Erm, this was probably what a jeweler from Kyoto that I was acquainted with would say. The contrary was also possible.

“Gotta psyche myself up. If I don’t become someone that won’t lose to this suit, I’d feel bad.”

“This is my personal opinion, but there is nothing more tiring to look at than a jewelry in which the gem and base metal are at rivalry with one another. What you should emphasize is the harmony. Just because you use the finest high-grade eggs and milk as ingredients, it does not mean you will create the best pudding – is that not the same thing?”

“Ah...”

When I replied that, indeed, high-end ingredients were often strongly in demand, the beautiful man nodded with an “exactly as you say”. By the looks of it, those were the sweets that he was into lately. I hadn’t been able to take time some for it at all due to being busy, but I decided to make pudding again one of these days and offer to him. Despite having a wallet that enabled him to eat as many high-grade desserts as he wanted, Richard would always be delighted anew no matter how many of them I made, which made me believe that, as one would expect, he had a talent for pleasing people. I was grateful for his existence.

“Both suits and jewelry are goods that exist for the sake of their owners. The initiative is clear from the start. You must handling it skillful and comfortably, not fight against it. That is why it is custom-made.”

“So you’re also ‘skillfully handling’ the clothes you’re wearing right now?”

“Evidently. Enough that I do not know anymore at what point it ends and I begin.” With that said, Richard sleekly patted his suit. I wanted to try saying that too someday.

We exchanged glances not through the mirror but directly.

When the clerk Onii-san came back, the measuring recommenced. I got kind of embarrassed as he praised me, saying I was well-relaxed.

   “Seigi-kun, good work! Wow, that suit looks really great on you.”

“Thanks, Tanimoto-san. Uh, this print on your furisode, could it be—”

“I was told it’s a modern type of print, but yep, it’s kinda like...”

“It looks like a bismuth crystal!”

With a face that said, “I know, right”, a dandy crease formed under her eyes, which were just a bit more on-the-mark than usual. Her bob-cut hair was the same as always, her cream-colored hakama paired with a yellow-green and dark blue furisode, which bore a mysterious geometric pattern print. On top of being cute, it was unique. She said it was rented, but I got emotional upon finding out there was a furisode that was so much like her.

As for me, I was wearing a double-button English suit that fit my body extremely well. It was a little embarrassing, but the creatures called college boys were more or less the same kind of individuals as myself, so they weren’t too mindful of their male friends’ clothes. Only one of them, who had found employment in the apparel industry, said that “the suit Nakata’s wearing is so nice”.

It was the graduation ceremony of Kasaba University. We gathered in the excessively large auditorium for all but an instant, and once we had our diplomas in hand, it was the beginning of a rapid shooting party, where we took pictures with our preferred friends in spaces near the auditorium. Tanimoto-san came running over to the spot near the central library, where we had decided to meet up.

“Seigi-kun, really, congrats. Things might get hard from now on, but if it’s you, everything will definitely be okay.”

“Thank you. I’ll do my best. I don’t think I’m that big of a deal, though...”

“That’s not true. I know very well how awesome you are.”

I played around a little and bowed my head, also congratulating Tanimoto-san for her graduation, she laughed with a “huhuhu”, looking happy.

She had passed in teaching and she would officially be a middle school science teacher starting this April. She fulfilled the dream that she had told me about when we were in our second year of undergrad. So cool. She had laughed when I said I wanted to take her classes if it were ever possible, but now I knew her video communication address, so it might be that I could actually get to attend her lectures at least once. Even if I were no longer living in Japan.

“Tanimoto-san, the school you’re assigned to is...”

“In Okayama Prefecture. It’s famous for the Katsuta Group of vicarya fossils. Compared to you, it’s next-door.”

In a few days, my address would change from Japan to Sri Lanka. I was going to be a jeweler apprentice. I had been told that I would often have to move around in rough dress, so sure enough, I was going to dedicate myself to wearing formal stuff for the time being. It was a bit of a waste, but Nakata-san and Richard had probably given me a chance to wear this kind of thing because they knew about that.

I could hear a voice in the distance calling, “Shouko~”. It was apparently a friend of Tanimoto-san’s. She waved at them in response.

“Seigi-kun, y’know... I think I was very lucky to meet you in this university. Literally thank you. Thanks to you, university was always fun.”

“Those are all my lines. But Tanimoto-san, I only ever gave you trouble.”

“If you’re gonna say that, same goes for me. I feel like you’ve granted me many opportunities. Seriously, thank you.”

When she smiled, saying she was going to do her best, she looked really cute. Neither of us had any familiarity with Okayama, but surely, she would actively pave the way with her own strength no matter where she was. And on her days off, she would go out to the Katsuta Group to dig up fossils.

“From now on too, if there’s anything I can help you with, I want you to tell me. I’ll do anything. If you run into any weirdo, I’ll get on a plane and come give them a beating.”

“Me too; if anyone ever messes up with you, Seigi-kun, I’ll take my crack hammer and go finish them off. Look forward to it. Ah, Aki told me that a sniper rifle suits me better, apparently?”

“I-I wonder.”

After that, we talked for a while, seated on an inconspicuous bench, and when it was finally time, she told me to at least take care of my body, offering me her hand. I nodded and squeezed it back. Her hand was small but very strong.

“Take care of your body, at the very least. May the blessings of the stones fall upon you.”

“Thank you. You too.”

We bowed deeply, taking pictures with each other while we were at it, and once we were done with the commemorative photoshoot, in which the two of us kept a moderate distance from one another, we parted ways. Students here and there were hugging intensely and wailing, but neither she nor I were that type, and I didn’t think this would be farewell for a lifetime. We would definitely get to see each other from now on too.

However, this was our last time seeing each other while we were students. After the handshake, my angel waved her hand with a “see you”, even more brightly than an actual angel.

Later on, having finished looking around for the friends that I could call friends and going on a tour to tell them “thank you for everything until now”, lastly, I sent a brief text. Not to Richard. To Nakata-san and Hiromi.

“I was able to graduate from university without problems. Thank you very much, truly. I will be in your care from now on too.”

Rather than a greeting, it turned into a notice to announce my renewed determination. The stylish suit indeed gave off an extraordinary feeling of fittingness, but I couldn’t think I was fully used to it. Obviously. It finished being made just a while ago. It would start from here. If it would take on my shape the more I wore it, then I would make sure to wear it steadily to my own liking.

What mattered was the harmony, he had said.

While smoothly stroking the suit, which I still couldn’t deem as anything other than formal wear, as if I were stroking my favorite gemstone, I seared the contrast of cherry blossom petals against the blue sky into my eyes.

[marchioness-caprina]

Love Scandal

Pairings : Reader x Hawks

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warning : Slight Yandere! Hawks ( If you squint Really Hard) , Cursing

Word Count : 2754

3rd Person's POV

" You have GOT to be kidding me! " Y/n yelled in frustration as Momo gave her a concerned Look.

" So.... Is what the Tabloids saying True--"

" Of course it's not! I just work under His Agency! And what happened Yesterday was Purely out of Defense and Nothing else! " Y/n cut off Jiro immediately venting out her frustrations.

Y/n along with the girl's of the Former Class 1-A were hanging in a small Cafe to catch up since things had been pretty hectic since they became Pro Heroes a year ago.

" So.... What are you gonna Do about it? " Uraraka asked as she read even further through the article and she gasped.

" Oh no.... Don't tell me it's something terrible? " Y/n muttered already seeing what's to come judging by the look her Friend gave her.

" Uhh... You could say... You two were caught in the... Umm.. Act? " Uraraka tried finding the right words so she wouldn't annoy her friend even further before showing her phone towards y/n who's eyes widened like flying saucers.

On the screen was a picture of Her and Hawks in the Alleyway. Hawks was turning away from the camera but he clearly had his hands on y/n's hips and from this angle it looked like they were kissing.

" Ugh! For crying out loud who took this picture !? Fucking Son of a Bit--- ugh! " Y/n fumed in utter irritation her red turning extremely red not because of embarrassment but because of anger and irritation.

" Y/n calm down, I think it's best if you talk to Hawks about this... Maybe he'll clear it up Kero " Tsu suggested and y/n had already bolted out the cafe in full speed.

It was silent inside the cafe before one of the girls began talking.

" Wouldn't they make a good pair though? " Mina muttered and the girls all gave a small giggle before agreeing.

____________ Meanwhile

Y/n was stomping through The Building and her hero co-workers could clearly see the growing irritation of her aura and they were genuinely scared to approach the fuming lady.

Once y/n was outside Hawk's Office she slammed the door open revealing a resting hawks with his feet on his desk. His face was covered with an old newspaper and y/n could hear audible and soft snores coming from him.

The man was clearly unaware of her presence when she literally slammed her way inside while stomping a aloud as she could... He was unaware or so she thought .

" Hawks! Fucking wake up! " She growled her to me seeping off irritation.

Hawks stirred in his sleep and with a groan he pulled the newspaper away from his face and opened one eye to see the figure of y/n who was menacingly glaring at him.

" Hey Kid what brings you to my Nest mphf-- Ahh shoving it to my face now aren't you?... Let me guess My fault? " Hawks smirked when Y/n had forcefully shoved her phone containing the article of their so called ' Love Scandal ' .

" No shit Sherlock! You Think!? Why the fuck did you have to shove me to the alleyway like that!? I told you I could handle it!" Y/n barked as Hawks's eyes trailed down to her phone lazily reading through the article chuckling to himself.

" Ohoho~ Looks like the headlines got the best of us Kid. Just look at all these Juicy details---"

" Which are False" Y/n immediately cut in glaring at the man who gave her a Bemused expression.

" Well you did decide to get involved with a scoundrel like me---"

" Only because you keep blocking other Agencies from Hiring me because you wanted me in yours" Y/n cut him off once again to which Hawks only gave a chuckle as a reply.

" You know Kid, you gotta let me finish my sentences. Now stop being angry you'll get wrinkles " That comment made y/n furious her hand immediately came clashing on Hawks's cheek with a loud slap.

" Ohoho~ ok I guess I deserve that one for not taking it seriously " Hawks Grinned eyeing the girl infront of him.

" You've really turned Feisty Baby Bird, it feels like Yesterday you were a polite and obedient Sidekick and now here you are slapping your boss like that. You know I really gotta give you credit for not taking my bullshit like that " Hawks yawned sitting down in a more comfortable position.

" Oh come on Hawks, we know I take all of your bullshit Every fucking Day and This Time it's Kinda frustrating... Oh wait let me rephrase that. It's Extremely Frustrating! " Y/n hissed crossing her arms over her chest as her glare became ice cold and the man before her only growing Amused by her reaction.

" So what do you expect me to do? Bullshit Rumors will be Bullshit Rumors and I don't give a damn about every single one of them... So let me guess. You want me to make a public appearance and Deny everything they claim here on this Article? " Hawks questioned and Y/n who seemed to be a bit more calm now gave him a firm nod.

" Yes, that is exactly what I am expecting you To do Hawks. I want this Rumor to Vanish immediately. You deny it and I Deny it too, let's explain why we were in that position " Y/n stated her tone was calm and collected , the opposite of the tone she used before.

Hawks nodded his head continuously in a slow and lazy manner his eyes never leaving the girl as his expression seemingly showing as if he was in deep thought.

" Yeah.... I could do that but" Hawks paused a playful glint displaying through his orbs, his eyes meeting hers that smirk on his face never seemed to falter.

" But what? " Y/n questioned clearly growing irritated again.

" But I won't " His answer set y/n off ten folds and she was so close to flipping his desk . She almost did but Hawks stopped her before she could wreck the whole place.

" Just Kidding. I will " He laughed and y/n was too pissed off to deal with her antics she just turned around and left.

" I'll call the press. You better clear this mess Hawks " She spat out before leaving.

Oh y/n, she has no Idea Hawks had cunningly planned all of this from the very beginning so he could slowly have his way around her. Hawks had been patient with her ever since the first year she had interned in his agency as a student. The moment he met this strange epitome of beauty named y/n he became a love struck desperate man who craved nothing but the affection of his most prized position. Y/n.

He Even went out of his way to reason or more like threaten other agencies who were more than willing to take her in as a new pro hero. He was so so selfish to let her go and he was desperate to have her by his side.

He even purposely pairs himself with her during missions so he could protect and watch over her. He had given subtle clues that he likes her but apparently his little baby bird wasn't smart in the love department . But he was patient. But the moment people started making rumors about her and That other New Hero Named Deku claiming that they would become a really ' cute ' hero couple if they ended up dating. He was more than furious. Dammit he wanted everyone to Know that His baby bird is Exclusively His. Only His.

So he devised a plan and even hired a photographer to take a picture of them ' in the act' and hired an editor to write something about it and spread it everywhere on the internet to cause a media wild fire that y/n and hawks are dating.

And everything was going according to plan. He knew y/n would come to his office to complain about this and convince him to deny it, he knew she'd be fuming in anger , he knew she was here the moment she stepped inside the building and all that's left is to face the press with his 'announcement' that is sure to surprise everyone including y/n.

________________ The Press Meeting.

" So is it true that you and Pro Hero Hawks are dating H/n? " A reported asked y/n to which she shook her head to.

" What is Taking Hawks so long? " She grumbled , the room was flooded with cameramen and reported and the flashes of camera light was starting to get to her.

And on Cue the winged Hero arrived in the room looking as smig as ever.

" It's Hawks! Make sure to catch this on Camera! " The reporter yelled and so on the area was Flooded with questions left and right and Hawks seemed to be unbothered by it.

" Hawks! End this already " Y/n yelled at Hawks who grinned at her playfully.

" You're so Impatient Baby bird " He muttered making the girl glare at him.

" Don't call me that " She grumbled but Hawks ignored her. Instead he picked up the Microphone and started tapping on it.

" Testing, Testing ok it's working. Can you all please be quiet and I'll answer your question" Hawks announced and slowly the room faded into silence and once everything has quieted down Hawks cleared his throat the microphone still in his hand.

" Ok, I know it caused a Dramatic Mishap to Ensue the Moment everyone saw the article and I would like to clear some things out regarding that Love Scandal... Me and H/n are Not dating! I repeat NOT Dating! " Hawks stated loud and clear through the microphone.

Y/n sighed thinking that it was finally the end but No. Hawks had other plans.

" We're not Dating Cause She's My Fucking Wife! " Hawks announced and everyone was silent.

Y/n was frozen in place unable to think clearly and her expression showed it all. Hawks had a victorious grin on his face, the whole crowd of reporters and camera men were quiet and it took them 5 seconds to actually let that information Sink in.

" WHAT!? " Y/n exploded and she rose up from her seat and soon the reporters started shooting different questions their way .

" Hawks what the actual fuck!? Is this a Prank!? ---" Y/n was caught off guard when Hawks scooped her off her feet and smashed his lips against hers silencing her in a short yet passionate kiss.

" How's that for a Picture show?! " Hawks yelled to the reporters before finally flying away from the commotion holding his baby bird in his hands who was now by the way. Fuming with anger once again.

________________

Y/n was furious and when she's furious she gets violent and she started thrashing around forcing Hawks to land on the rooftop on a random building.

" Hawks! What the fuck was that!? Ugh! Why'd you do that!? Was that some sick Joke!?" She growled as she shot Hawks one of her menacing glares to which he wasn't affected to.

" Maybe it is... Maybe it isn't " Hawks answered the smirk on his face seemed to be permanent when he's with her.

" Dammit! You Fucking Asshole!. Shit! How the Fuck am I gonna clear this up now!? I should have gone to Fatgum's agency instead! You know what!? I'm going to request a transfer! Fatgum is way nicer anyways---" She was cut off when Hawks had swept his feet under hers thus knocking her on the ground. With a Yelp her back was slammed on the ground with Hawks hovering above her.

" Say that to me again Baby Bird and I swear.... Even if I have to .... I'll Destroy Fat Gum's agency into a pile of debris... Don't Temp me... I will do it.... You have no idea how long I've been trying to get you to notice me and my feelings... Yet you always seemed to bullshit it away every Fucking time! " Hawks yelled letting all of his emotions get the best of him.

And for the first time. Y/n saw Hawks at his Most Vulnerable state. Not the calm and collected Hawks who never seemed to break. Right now was a man who experienced hundreds of rejections from one girl... Y/n.

How could she be so blind? Now that she thinks back to the past she did remember every sweet and romantic thing Hawks did for her and how he asked her out on daily basis to which she thought was just a flirtatious joke. She was both dense and stupid when it came to love and she didn't notice that the man whom she had fallen for actually loved her back.

Hawks always kept his composure but today she's seeing none of it... Just Hawks. Not the Pro Hero Hawks... Just Hawks.

He was always joking when he's around her that she brushes off every flirtatious comment from him to be a joke too. But now that everything had come to light. It was undeniably obvious.

"... You really hate me that much? " Hawks voice was so soft and timid, it almost didn't sound like him at all.

Y/n was surprised at his sudden comment that she was pulled back to reality her eyes meeting with his but to her shock. She saw the eyes of a hurt and broken man .

Guilt overtook her . She loved him but she always pushed her feelings aside having the fear of being rejected because Hawks is incredible in every way and y/n...is y/n.

Her eyes widened when a single teardrop fell on her cheek and that tear came from Hawks who was trying his hardest to keep his shit together. How can you have this powerful affect on him? It's driving him Nuts. Does he have to kidnap her so she'd stay with him? Does he have to fake her death and keep her all to himself? He was close to that breaking point but that psychotic thought was immediately thrown to the side and forgotten when y/n had reached over to cup his cheeks and brought his face down inches from hers only to scoop his lips in her own for a long, passionate and loving kiss.

Hawks was unable to respond at first because. It was surreal. Y/n was finally accepting him! He felt her slowly pull back but he was having none of it! He waited so long for this moment!.

Pushing his lips down to hers he indulged himself in the sweet taste of y/n's lips, opening her mouth slightly she granted him entrance inside her wet cavern where his tongue explored every inch and claiming it as his own. Their lips danced in sync in a steady and passionate movement.

Once the two pulled away his eyes pierced hers as if asking if she meant it to which y/n replied with a laugh.

" Hawks you dumbass you didn't have to make a scene like that... I love you too honestly... From the start... I was scared to tell you... I didn't want to get rejected " She answered honestly making the man frown.

" Chickadee I'd be the biggest fool alive if I'd reject you.. And that show earlier was necessary.... Everyone needs to know that the beautiful pro hero h/n is Mine... My Baby Bird " Hawks muttered kissing her cheek.

" I love you, you annoying bird man " She chuckled attempting to push him off.

" Whatever you little brat... I love you too and don't push me away... I'm touch starved by you, It's your fault so take responsibility" Hawks grumbled making the girl laugh.

" But we're on a rooftop! " She protested but Hawks only rolled his eyes cuddling right next to his y/n.

" Don't be so picky. If you keep this up we might end up in my bedroom--"

" Hawks! "

[prettyboyreid]

not clickbait!

Matthew finally agrees to make a YouTube video with his girlfriend.

Warnings: none, just fluff :)

Word Count: 6,493

Special thanks to all of the anons who gave me nickname ideas :)

“Please, Matthew?  It’s just this one time, I promise,” you pleaded with him, following your boyfriend around like a lost puppy through your house as you did your best to get him to join you for one of your YouTube videos.  

You were quickly approaching your YouTube channel’s three year anniversary, and you wanted to do something special for it.  While you had been dating Matthew for nearly five years, he’d never once made an appearance in a video.  You posted about him on other social media platforms and he posted about you - you even made a brief appearance in the second season of his Unauthorized Documentaries - but he always turned you down when you offered to have him join you on a challenge or a “Get Ready With Me” video.

This time, however, you weren’t taking no for an answer.

“I don’t know, angel.  It doesn’t really seem like a good idea,” he said, mindlessly wandering into your kitchen before leaning against the granite counter.  You gave him a soft pout, positioning yourself between his legs as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Matthew has always been hesitant with your relationship in the public eye.  There’s fifteen years between the two of you, and he was always overprotective of you, especially when it came to the media.  He knew how harsh some people could be and didn’t want anyone attacking either of you because of your relatively large age gap.  It took about two years before he finally gave in and posted pictures of the two of you on social media, making your relationship “public.”   You didn’t really have a problem with waiting so long; you thought it was sweet that he cared so much.  Besides, it was nice to have him to yourself for a little while. 

You had yet to convince him to accompany you in a video.  You were an open book with your followers and subscribers - they were a big part of your life.  You wanted them to know about you and Matthew, and you thought the best way to do so was having him in a video with you.  A person can be completely different in a video than they appear in a photo.

“Come on, Matty,” you groaned, drawling out the last syllable as you let your head fall back in frustration.  You felt his hands move to your hips and squeeze softly, sighing heavily at your insistent nature. 

“Okay!  Okay, fine, I’ll do a video with you,” he said tilting your head back up by your chin so you could look at him again with a bright smile.  “What video are we doing?  You’re not going to strap me to the side of a rickety old airplane or anything, right?” he asked.  

He looked genuinely worried you would force him to do something dangerous for a moment.

You rolled your eyes a bit at his dramatic assumption, letting your fingers lace through his light brown hair as you looked up at him.  “No, I’m not,” you promised him, leaning up on the tips of your toes to press a quick kiss to the end of his nose.

His face scrunched up a bit into a teasing frown at the odd sign of affection, shifting his weight a bit while his hands traveled up the bottom hem of your t-shirt so his fingers could trace along your skin.  “Alright, no airplane.  What did you have in mind, then?”  he asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked down at you.  

You silently noted the way his pupils grew nearly twice their size when he looked at you.

You shrugged, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.  “I was thinking just a simple Q&A video…” you began, your voice trailing off as you second-guessed the rest of your idea for the bi-weekly video you planned to execute with Matthew. 

He raised an eyebrow slightly as he saw you hesitate, folding his arms across his chest with a soft huff out of his nose.  “And what?  I know there’s something else there,” he asked.  You were notorious for having more than one element to your videos, so he knew you wouldn’t settle for just sitting in the spare room you converted to your shooting room and read off random questions with him for thirty minutes.  Besides, you both knew he would get antsy and want to do something with his hands.  He was restless all the time, and you would need a way to keep him busy.

“I was thinking… I could have you do my makeup while we answered the questions?” you suggested to him, though it came out sounding more like a question than anything.  You watched nervously as his brows furrowed together as he thought it over before smiling brightly.  He wrapped his arms tightly around you before pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head with a hum.

“I think it sounds like a great idea, bunny,” he said, swaying the two of you back and forth for a moment as he hugged you.  You rested your head against his chest with a smile, happy you had finally convinced him to join you for a project of your own.  

“I’m glad you think so,” you said, pulling away as you looked up at him.  His features from your point of view were shadowy, yet still very definitive.  He really didn’t have any bad angles, in your eyes.  

He leaned down with a grin before pressing a few soft kisses all over your face, his short stubble tickling your cheeks.  You giggled softly at the sensation as you pulled away, hiding your face in his shoulder.  You heard his soft chuckle as you checked the time on your phone, shoving it into your back pocket before grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the stairs of your shared home. 

“Come on, I need to at least show you what goes where so you don’t completely ruin my makeup,” you teased him with a smile, looking back at him over your shoulder to see a smile on his lips that matched your own.

The next morning, you tweeted out for people to tweet you and Matthew questions for the upcoming video.  The two of you spent the next day choosing the questions you were going to answer, writing down the username of the person who asked it and the actual question they had for you.  

You came to a compromise when you picked out the questions: the two of you would pick five together, and each of you would individually pick out five.  You thought it would be fun to see what kinds of questions he would pick out for the video, and you found a few that you thought would at least earn a laugh from him. 

He thought it would be a good idea to take the questions and put them on pieces of paper, cut them up, and pick them at random from a hat.  He hardly gave you time to agree before he began to write down the questions in his chicken scratch onto ripped up pieces of yellow legal paper.

After you had all of the questions in order, he helped you set up the spare room on the second floor so you could film the next day.  He helped you hang up the pale blue sheet you usually had for the backgrounds for your videos, and dragged the coffee table upstairs so you could have a place to put all of your makeup.  You got some foldable chairs you kept in one of the junk closets along with seasonal decorations and items that needed to go to the thrift store, setting them up across from his camera (that he insisted on using) so they were in the line of sight.  It took you much longer than it should have to set up the shot, but you didn’t expect anything less from your director boyfriend. 

Since you didn’t finish setting up the room until about 9:45, you decided you would just film the next day.  

Matthew insisted on having a late night snack of a pint of ice cream - one for each of you, of course.  You quickly found out he was just trying to figure out which questions you had picked out.  You two bickered back and forth for what felt like hours as he tried to figure out which ones you wanted to surprise him with.

“Did you choose the one that asked about how the sex is?”

“Jesus, Gube!  No, I didn't.  Why, did you?” you retorted, eating another spoonful of the frozen dessert as you teased him. 

He rolled his eyes before shaking his head, his grown out hair shaking with each movement.  “No, but I’ll tell you one of the ones I picked if you tell me one of yours, sunshine,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his own as he finished the pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, setting the empty container on the table at the end of the couch, since your coffee table was currently upstairs covered in cosmetics. 

You huffed out at his attempts to barter with you, shaking your head as you grabbed the two empty pints before heading off to the kitchen.  “That wouldn’t make it much of a surprise then, would it?”  you asked him, rinsing out the containers before tossing them in the recycling bin beneath the kitchen sink.  You jumped slightly as you felt a pair of long, lanky arms snake around your waist, grinning as his lips tickled against your neck as he kissed your skin softly.

“Just one question, pretty please,” he asked, dragging out the phrase to try and guilt you into giving in.  You tutted at his all but frugal attempts to break you, slipping out of his grasp quickly.

“For the last time, nope,” you said, popping the “p” before smacking his ass playfully.  You grinned at the shocked expression your actions earned from your boyfriend.  “Now come on sweet cheeks, we should get some rest before your big YouTuber debut,” you teased, lacing your hands with his as you walked him up the stairs. 

He chuckled a little bit, both at the nickname and your excuse for why you needed to get to bed relatively early.  “Whatever you say, sunshine,” he replied, his arm snaking back around your waist as you made your way closer to your shared bedroom.

You would never describe Matthew as one to get camera shy, especially given his career.  But as you two got dressed and got ready the next morning, he was pacing your room as he buttoned up one of his patterned short-sleeved shirts.

“Do you think this is a good idea?  I feel like this might be a little premature.  I don’t even think your audience likes me.  Jesus, what if I ruined you by being on your channel?”  He voiced every possible thing that could go wrong, redoing the buttons at least three times as he messed them up from his brain being preoccupied.

You stood up from your seat at your vanity, setting down your hairbrush as you made your way to the pacing man.  You rested your hands on his upper arms to stop him in his repetitive path, forcing him to look down at you. 

“You’ll be fine, bug,” you reassured him, leaning up and kissing his nose softly.  “You know they love you already.  I promise that you’re going to be great, okay?” you told him, pushing some of his curls out of his eyes as you gave him a bright smile.

You watched as his nervous expression softened as you fed him words of encouragement, letting out a soft sigh before kissing the top of your head.  “Okay… okay.  Can we do this now?  I feel like I’m going to back out of this if we wait any longer,” he asked.  You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment, nodding softly before leading him out of the room and down the hall. 

He sat down in one of the seats as you made sure the camera and lighting was alright, pressing the record button before sitting down in your own seat.  You grinned over at him, watching as he nervously fidgeted with the Alvin and the Chipmunks hat in his hands that held your questions. 

“You ready?” you asked him, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear as you double checked that you had everything.  He looked up from the bright red hat that had entranced him before nodding, setting it down on the coffee table before he looked back over to you.  You smiled over at him before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. You turned towards the camera a second later, flashing a bright smile as you adjusted the way you sat so you’d be at a better angle. 

“Hey guys!” you greeted enthusiastically to the camera, giving a little wave as well.  “Welcome back to a new video!  Today I have a very special guest with me; my boyfriend, Matthew,” you introduced, glancing over at him with a smile.  You watched him adoringly as you watched him give his own little wave, watching his cheeks turn a pale shade of pink.

“Hello!” he said with enthusiasm that rivaled yours, despite his little voice crack in the middle of the word.  You grinned a little bit before turning back to the camera, crossing your left leg over your right.

You finished up the intro to the video rather quickly, just explaining what you guys would be doing and thanking everyone for sending in questions.  After a few moments you turned back to Matthew, grabbing the red hat from the coffee table.  “You ready?” you asked him, smiling as he nodded and began to look through the makeup.

You sifted through the questions to shuffle them up, laughing a bit as you noticed how focused he was on the products in front of him.  “What do I even start with?” he asked you, picking up a concealer and a tube of mascara. 

“Start wherever you want, bub,” you smiled, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as you unfolded the first question, watching him untwist the cap of the mascara tube.

“Okay, @y/ngoobler asked, ‘How and where did you two meet?’” you said, grinning as he intricately began to apply the black substance to your lashes with a bright smile at the question.

“Can I answer this one?” he asked you in a soft voice.  You giggled a bit at his timidness, but nodded quickly before watching his face light up.  “Okay, okay, so about five and a half years ago, I went to a panel with my costar, AJ Cook,” he began, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he continued to apply the mascara very generously to your already long lashes.  

“Y/N was there with a friend of hers, and I met her at one of the photo ops.  Then I later saw her back at the hotel we were staying at, and we talked for a while before I asked her out to dinner the next night before I flew back home,” he explained, leaning back a bit as he inspected his work.  “Then I just kept asking her out and hoped she didn’t get annoyed with me.  It’s worked for five years so far,” he chuckled, twisting the cap back onto the tube of mascara before looking back at you. 

“Can I pull the next one?” he asked, grinning a bit as you nodded to him before he mixed the questions up in the hat before pulling the next one.

“Alright, @y/s/ntrash asked, ‘What is your favorite thing about the other?’” he read off, grabbing a random eyeshadow palette off the coffee table along with a rather large eyeshadow brush.  “You go first, I need to focus on this,” he murmured to you, dipping the brush into a yellow color.  You closed your eyes with a smile, trying to picture the shape he was designing on your eyelid as you thought over your answer. 

“My favorite thing about Matthew is… his sense of humor, probably,” you answered, chewing, grinning as you could feel his demeanor change brightly.  You knew how self-conscious he could be, especially about anything that involved entertainment, so that probably lifted his spirits a bit. 

“My turn?” he asked you, pulling the brush back as he waited for your answer.  You opened the eye he wasn’t working on, nodding softly as you noticed his bright smile.  “Besides everything, my favorite thing about you is your smile,” he announced to you and to the future audience, kissing you quickly before he gathered more of the eyeshadow on the brush.  

You reached down into the hat as you picked the next question, laughing a bit at the way the brush he used tickled your skin with each stroke he made.  “Uh, @spencerwreid asked, ‘Y/N, what is your favorite movie of Matthew’s?  Matthew, what is your favorite video of Y/N’s?’”  You crumpled up the small yellow piece of paper before tossing it to the side, closing your eyes as he moved onto the next lid.  

“My favorite movie of his is probably… Hot Air, I think.  I loved the cinematography and the coloring, and Lesley reminded me so much of him,” you explained, folding your arms across your chest as you settled back into your chair.  “Your turn, bug,” you told him, figuring he was lost in a trance of his work. 

“Oh, shit, okay,” he said, pulling away and letting the brush fall onto the table with a clink as you opened your eyes again.  “My favorite video is… that vlog you made when you went to Disneyland with a few of the other YouTubers.  I don’t remember their names.  I think two of them were twins,” he said, sifting through the products to figure out what to do next.

“The Dolan Twins?” 

“That’s it!”

You grinned a little bit, leaning over again and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.  “How does it look so far?” you asked him, watching him grab an angled brush before grabbing a neutral eyeshadow palette.  

“I can’t tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise,” he said, chuckling as you stuck your tongue out playfully at your boyfriend.  He plucked the next question from the hat, carefully unfolding it before he read it aloud.  “@queeny/n asked, ‘How long have the two of you been together?’” 

“It’ll be five years this August!” you answered enthusiastically, watching as Matthew just smiled brightly at your quick answer.  

You grabbed at the hat and picked out a new question as you watched him dip the brush into a light brown shade, humming to yourself as he dragged it along your eyebrow.  “Okay, okay, @abbygubler asked, ‘What did you do for your first date?’” you repeated the question, tossing it to the side as you watched Matthew carefully fill in your brows.

“I took Y/N to a Thai restaurant across the street from our hotel, and she had the absolute worst pad thai I’ve ever tasted in my life,” he chuckled at the memory, pulling back for a moment to look at his work and pick another question.

He placed the brush between his teeth for a moment as he unfolded his question, leaning his neck back slightly before playfully spitting the brush back onto the table, earning an eye roll and stifled laugh from you.  

“@prentissprincess asks, ‘Why did it take you guys so long to go public?’”  He hummed at the question, picking up a bottle of setting spray before shaking it up.  “Close your eyes,” he told you, and you obliged before he spritzed the mist over your face. 

“Well, I’ll tell you why,” he began, picking up a bottle of foundation as he turned to the camera (probably just for dramatic effect.)  “I am fifteen years older than Y/N, and when we told a few friends when we started dating, they weren’t too fond of it, and didn’t find it necessary to hide their feelings from us,” he said, using the pump on the bottle of foundation to scatter drops across your face.  

“So, after talking about it for a bit, we decided to just keep it to ourselves for a little while, just so we didn’t have to deal with the media for a little while - should I use the big brush or the egg?” he interrupted himself, holding up both of them as he looked at you.  This obviously was much more important to him than the question, which made you smile a bit.

“The sponge would probably be better,” you corrected and informed him, watching him nod before beginning to carefully dab at your face with the beauty blender.

“Okay.  Anyway, we just thought it would be best for a bit, and then we got a little more comfortable and just posted about each other, and now I’m in a YouTube video.  I think this is going to be the peak of my career,” he joked.  You snorted softly at the comment, which only made him smile brightly as he continued to blend out the foundation across your face.

You picked out the next question, careful to not interrupt your boyfriend’s creative process as you unfolded it and read it around his arm.  “@mixmatchedmatthew asked, ‘Was it hard to keep your relationship a secret for such a long time?’”  You glanced up at Matthew slightly as he picked up a kabuki style brush and a little compact bronzer. 

“I don’t think so, no,” you answered, watching him dip the brush into the compact.  

“Make a fish face.  That’s what you showed me, right?” he instructed.  You nodded softly with a grin, sucking in your cheeks as he brushed the darker cosmetic across your sunken cheek.  “The hardest part was probably not being able to show her off, but overall, I’ve probably done harder tasks,” he admitted, brushing out the powder across your cheek before moving up to the sides of your forehead and along the bottom of your jaw. 

He set down the brush as he finished the one side of your face, reaching over into the hat and picking out the next question for you two to answer. 

“Okay, this one is from @y/ndivinity - Why are these usernames so creative?  We need better user names,” he commented, taking the brush and working it across the other side of your face.  “Anyway, they asked, ‘What are your favorite things to do together?’” 

“Oh!  I love just sitting around and painting or drawing together.  I like just… being creative with you, I guess?” you answered, scrunching up your nose slightly as he began to drag the brush over it.

“My favorite thing to do with you is taking you to the beach, even just for little lazy days,” he said with a smile.  You grinned at his answer, pushing yourself out of your seat for a moment to kiss him quickly.

“I thought you didn’t even like the beach?”

“I only like it with you, bunny,” he answered quickly, giving you a quick kiss back before picking up a bottle of concealer.  

You smiled at his response, picking out the next question as he started to draw little shapes under your eyes and in the middle of your forehead.  “@aestheticmatthew asks, ‘Have you learned anything from each other?’” you read aloud, dropping the paper into your lap as you looked back to your focused boyfriend, who again was trying to decide between whether to use a beauty sponge or a brush to blend the makeup out.  

“Use the sponge, ‘Hew,” you told him, watching him nod quickly before dropping the brush and beginning to dab carefully at your skin.

“I’ve learned how to become an up and coming makeup artist from Y/N,” he answered.  You laughed a little, before realizing that that was his actual, legitimate answer.  You grinned a little bit, leaning up and messing his hair up a bit to tease him.

“I learned not to take everything so seriously,” you answered, uncrossing your legs and stretching them out beneath his chair a bit.  He noticed this, and his eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

“Are you okay?  Should we take a break for a few minutes?” he asked you, pulling his hand back as (you assumed) he finished blending out the makeup across your face.  You shook your head softly, though your heart melted a bit at how much he cared.  

“I’m fine, don’t worry.  We’re almost done, I’ll make it,” you promised him, smiling a bit as you plucked the next question from the hat.  “Okay, uh, @sydney.y/l/n asked, ‘What do you see for your future together?’”  You smiled a bit at the question, looking over at Matthew as you finished reading it.  He paused his dig through the products as he smiled a bit at the question as well, leaning back in his seat for a moment as he thought. 

“We’d probably stay in the haunted treehouse, but I feel like there’d be at least a few kids running around.  Maybe married in Las Vegas along the strip, with a honeymoon somewhere tropical or in the mountains for two weeks,” he said, looking up slightly as if he was lost deep in thought.

“Besides that, just growing old and gray together, and I annoy you until one of us dies, or whatever happens when you turn one hundred and four,” he finished with a bright grin, leaning over and kissing your cheek softly.  You smiled as he made a bit of a face, realizing he should’ve blended in the concealer a bit more as he wiped at his lips with the back of his hand.  “That was gross,” you heard him mutter, which only made you burst into a fit of giggles as he reached for the next question.

You watched his face contort into a confused expression as he read over the question, and you knew at that moment he had picked out one of the questions you were surprising him with.  

“Uh… okay, uh, @reidreidreid asked, ‘Is Y/N a sugar baby?’” 

You laughed to yourself at the way he timidly read it and at the face he made, watching him hold back his own laughter as he looked forward to the camera.  “No, sh-she’s not,” he said, stuttering over stifled chuckles as he pointed at the fairly large lense.  “I am actually the sugar baby.  She pays for everything, she actually bought the house from me when she moved in,” he said, fully prepared to continue going on a dramatic rant if it weren’t for you laughing at the entire thing.  He shot you a playful glare, which only worsened your case of giggles.

“I’m sorry!  I’m sorry,” you said, grinning as you pressed your lips together before crossing your legs again.  He picked up a blush palette and a fluffy brush as you picked out the next question, smiling as you watched him suck in his lips to hide his own smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Alright, @agenty/f/n asked, ‘Do you go on press tours and go to panels with Matthew?’”

“Smile big, I need to do the blush,” he interrupted you before you can answer, grinning a bit before doing just as he said. 

“I just started going to them the past three years, after we went public,” you answered through your tightened teeth, watching as the taller man just laughed at the sight.  You laughed quietly as he finished applying the pink powder, setting the brush and palette down once he was satisfied with his work. 

He grabbed the hat to read out the next question before moving onto the next step of your makeup, humming as he shuffled the three thin remaining pieces of paper before plucking one out.  “@penelopexderek asked, ‘What are your favorite quirks about each other?’”  He set the paper down as he dug around the lipsticks, giving you time to answer first. 

“When he sleeps, he wiggles his feet a bit, like he’s being tickled or something.  It’s a lot cuter than it sounds, and it’s funny to just feel him softly kick at me in his sleep,” you said, teasing your boyfriend a bit with your answer.  He stuck his tongue out at you at your response, picking up a pink vial of lipstick before uncapping it and twisting up the product.

He carefully began to apply the cosmetic to your lips as he gave his answer.  “When she’s editing, Y/N has to be all spread out across our bed, and she has her tongue poking out of her cheek and she has like her Apple Pen stuck behind her ear… it’s just really cute,” he said, causing you to smile a bit as he finished applying the lipstick. 

You pick out the second to last question, watching him grab at the setting spray again.  He shook up the bottle for the second time today, waiting for you to read the question so he didn’t spray you in the mouth or the eye. 

“@68y/n said, ‘Matthew, did Y/N ever visit you at the Criminal Minds set?  If so, what’s your favorite memory there?’”  You quickly closed your eyes and mouth so he could apply the spray, your eyes screwing just a bit tighter as you felt the cool mist on your skin. 

“Yes, she did, actually.  Only for the last few seasons, though, and whenever it worked out for her schedule.  My favorite memory with her there is probably filming the Unauthorized Documentaries with her.”

“I was only in it for like twenty seconds, babe,” you said, chuckling a bit as he just shrugged.

“Doesn’t make it any less fun,” he replied quickly, grabbing the last question from the hat and reading it.  You watched his face light up brightly, looking back up at you before leaning back in his seat and holding the piece of paper out to you.

“You read it.”  You raised an eyebrow at his insistence, leaning back in your seat slightly as he smiled.  “It’s one of the ones I picked out.  You’ll love it, I pinky promise,” he said, holding his large pinky to you. 

You smiled a bit, wrapping your pinky around his before taking the piece of paper from him.

“Alright, @jemilymoreid asks…” your voice trailed off as you smiled, reading the question before glancing up at Matthew.  He had a wide grin on his face, crossing his arms over his chest proudly as he waited for you to finish the question. “...they asked, ‘Has he given you the screw that was in his knee yet?’”

You smiled up at him, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.  “Yes, he has.  We still keep it in the fireplace, but he gave it to me for our four year anniversary,” you said with a grin, glancing at him before looking back at the camera.  “He said it was his version of a promise ring.”

You checked the time on your phone quickly before looking over at Matthew, smiling a bit.  “Can I look at my face yet?”  you asked him since you finished the questions.  He nodded softly with a matching smile, handing you a handheld mirror before practically sitting on the edge of his seat.  His eyes flickered with excitement and pride, wanting you to see what he had spent the morning working so hard on. 

You couldn’t help but grin once you saw your reflection.  It wasn’t by many people’s standards good, but considering it was his first time doing anything like it, you thought it was great.  He looked over at you expectantly, chewing on his bottom lip as he laced his hands together.

“It looks great, buggy,” you said, leaning over and kissing him quickly.  You felt him smiling against your lips, obviously happy that you liked it.  “I love it,” you told him as you sat back in your seat, his smile stretching across his face at the compliments.

“Really?” he said, his cheeks burning a pink shade that matched the one he brushed onto your face earlier.  “I’m really glad you like it,” he beamed, leaning back in his seat as he just looked over at you, admiring his work and you.

You wrapped up the video, reminding the viewers to like, comment, subscribe, and follow your other social media accounts.  You gave a wave and blew a kiss to the lens before you stood up and turned off the camera, sighing softly before turning off the lights.

You watched as Matthew slumped back into his seat, like he was holding in his breath the entire time you were filming.

“So, what now?” he asked, running his hands back through his hair as he looked up at you. 

“Now, we clean this mess up, then I can start editing,” you said, helping him gather up all of the makeup.  You two took everything back to your vanity where you usually kept all of it, sorting it out into their designated drawers as Matthew insisted on taking the coffee table back downstairs. 

It didn’t take you very long to clean up the filming room.  After you took a couple photos for the cover of the video, you took down the sheet and the camera tripod, folded up the lights, and put everything back where it belonged.  In a little under an hour, you wouldn’t have been able to tell you had done anything in the spare bedroom.

You spent the rest of the day beginning to edit your video.  It was a bit longer than usual, so you didn’t finish up until about eleven o’clock, only taking breaks to eat and use the bathroom.  You rubbed at your eyes tiredly as you closed your laptop, shoving it in the drawer of your bedside table as you heard Matthew come into the room. 

“Did you finish it already?” he asked, joining you in the bed before getting comfortable under the thick covers before turning to face you.  You nodded softly, running your fingers back through your hair before pulling it back into a low messy bun.

“Yeah, I wanted to get it up tomorrow, so I just finished everything up tonight,” you explained to him, switching off the lamp beside you before cuddling up close to him, resting your head on his chest as you sighed quietly.  You hummed contently as you felt his soft hands rubbing circles on your back, kissing the top of your head as he tried to get you to relax and release the tension you held in your body from sitting in one position for so long.

“I’m sure it’s great, angel,” he assured you, settling down into the mattress as he got ready to go to bed with you.  “You need some rest so you can stay awake to see everyone’s reactions tomorrow, though,” he added, giving you a small smile in the dark room.  

You nodded softly, intertwining your body with his as you tried to get comfortable in your bed.  “G’night, baby boy,” you murmured lazily, pressing a soft kiss to his exposed chest, too tired to move your body up to kiss his lips.  

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered quietly back, both of your eyes closing as you let yourselves fall asleep quickly in the dark bedroom.

The next morning, both of you were riddled with nerves.  He was worried that all of your followers would think he was annoying, and you were worried that they wouldn’t like the video in general.  You always worried about this, but Matthew was the one to calm you down when you watched the video upload slowly to your most popular platform.  However, since you both were pacing in front of the laptop screen, worry coursing through your veins, it wasn’t very helpful.

The video uploaded at about noon, and after that, you both decided to close the computer for now.  You wanted to wait a little while before you checked how the video was doing, so you two ordered some Chinese food and watched a random movie you found on Amazon Prime.  

You two cuddled up on the couch and ate your food as the movie played on, but from the bouncing of his leg and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, you could tell that it wasn’t a very good distraction.  Halfway through the movie he let out a huff and paused it, pulling out his phone and opening the YouTube app.

“Enough people would have seen it by now to give us some feedback, right?”

He opened up your channel and clicked on your most recently uploaded video, smiling as he saw that there were almost three thousand likes in about one hour of being uploaded.  He scrolled down to the comment section, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he scrolled through them. 

“They’re so cute omg”

“A video with Matthew!!! Finally!!!”

“The perfect couple <3”

“I need a Matthew IMMEDIATELY!”

You only found a handful of negative comments, but the positive ones completely outweighed them.  You watched as the tall boy smiled brightly as he read through them, even liking a few of them as he went along.

“They actually like me!” he said excitedly, looking down at you as he spoke.  His eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree with happiness, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.  

“I told you they would, Matty,” you reminded him, curling up to him as you rested your head on his shoulder.  He wrapped his arm around you to pull you just a bit closer, reading back through the comments with a grin. 

“See, and it’s doing really well, too!  Everyone loves the video,” he told you, showing you a few comments that praised the content they had received from you.  You hummed in content as you sported a matching smile, glancing up at him before taking his phone and pressing the power button.

“Now that we have that out of the way,” you began, taking the remote from him.  “We should probably finish that distraction.”

“I agree,” he said, pressing a few kisses across your face and head as you pressed play, pulling a blanket over the two of you as you tossed both of your phones onto the coffee table.  Your attention turned back to the movie, reveling in the warmth of his touch as you let out a relieved sigh, happy that all of your fans and followers loved him almost as much as you do.

Almost.

@darling-doll9​ @imsuperawkward​

[knuffled]

just practice - chapter thirteen

here’s it is! it’s a shorter chapter, but i hope to have chapter fourteen up within two weeks, so be on the look out for that! if you enjoyed the chapter, reblogs are greatly appreciated! it helps make the effort needed to write the chapters feel worth it! 

here’s the link for ao3

Takashi’s Batting Cage was a quaint, almost run down affair not far from Seneca Falls. The building was owned and maintained by an old Japanese man that had immigrated in the late sixties, and there was something about the place that made it feel like it was frozen in time. The walls were plastered vintage, hand-painted posters of bands like The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Cream, and The Shadows. Mr. Takashi himself often sat near the entrance with a cigarette hanging between his lips, polishing the wooden baseball bats that he had carved.

Behind him, there were two kiosks, one where you paid for rounds in the batting cage, and another where you could buy hotdogs made by Mr. Takashi’s wife, sold cheaply at a buck fifty. All you got was a bun, hotdog, minced onions, and a drizzle of mustard and ketchup, but Reyna had assured Annabeth that they were nothing short of life-changing.

The kiosks themselves faced a huge chain link fence that housed three pitching machines that whirred like projector reels. The fence was painted green and touching it was enough for the paint to flake onto your fingers.

To a newcomer, it didn’t make for a particularly impressive sight, but there was a warmth and coziness to the place that could only be experienced firsthand. Over the years, the batting cages had developed a devout following as a spot where anyone could go to have a good time. Spending even a few minutes there was enough to leave the impression that the place was well and truly loved, like an old baseball mitt.

Annabeth had never heard of the place until Reyna had suggested they hang out there the Saturday after Percy’s swim meet. She was therefore surprised to see the number of cars parked outside, although she suspected that that might also have had to do with the weather calming down some. Reyna was already waiting for her inside when Annabeth entered, leaning against the wall.

Once she spotted her, Reyna offered Annabeth a smile and said, “Hey, thanks for making the drive.”

“It was no big deal,” Annabeth said, unwrapping her scarf. “I couldn’t help being curious after how enthusiastic you sounded about the place.”

Reyna raised an eyebrow and her smile widened. “Oh boy, the pressure is on now, huh?”

“Just a little,” Annabeth said, grinning.

“Ooh, scary,” Reyna said. “C’mon, lets head inside.”

Annabeth nodded and followed Reyna to the first kiosk. There were families using two of the pitching machines, but thankfully they would have the third to themselves. A wooden sign was bolted to the kiosk, informing her that it was three dollars for five pitches. Reyna mulled it over for a short while before handing fifteen dollars over to the clerk and looking at Annabeth.

“I think we can start with that much and see how you like it,” Reyna said, shrugging.

Annabeth nodded and took a helmet from the clerk behind the kiosk before heading inside the cage with Reyna. They slipped off their jackets and set them aside on top of wooden bench that sat against the fence. The astroturf inside the cage was an oddly modern touch that felt anachronistic when juxtaposed with the otherwise retro atmosphere, but Annabeth didn’t have long to dwell on it because she was forced to move off to the side for Reyna’s first round on the machines.

Reyna slipped on her helmet and took a few practice swings before she stepped up to the plate and nodded to the assistant operating the pitching machine. The machine whirred on the far side of the fence and shot a ball towards them at incredible speed. Annabeth could barely even see the ball, but Reyna waited for the right moment and swung, making perfect contact. The ball cracked off the bat and sailed across the cage.

Annabeth focused more on the second pitch so that she wouldn’t make an ass of herself when it came for her to try as well. It was still almost faster than she could register, but even Reyna missed this time, which made her scowl. Although Reyna hit the three remaining pitches, she still looked peeved when she handed Annabeth bat at the end of her turn.

As she moved towards the plate, Annabeth couldn’t help feeling like she didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of hitting a single ball. Her suspicions were confirmed when the first ball fired past her before she even had a chance to react. The second one was no better, but she could at least make out the course of the ball. She managed to swing on the third and fourth pitches, but she didn’t make any contact. It was on the final fifth ball that she grazed the ball with her bat, sending it shooting upwards into the fence.

She ignored the way her face burned and turned to Reyna with a wry smile. “I think I’m gonna need you to give me some tips.”

“Your form could use some work,” Reyna admitted, stepping towards Annabeth.

Reyna put her hands on Annabeth’s hips and turned her slightly. “Angle your hips like this. Turn your shoulders a bit more this way. Move your left hand a little further down the bat.”

Annabeth couldn’t help feeling flustered by how casually Reyna was shifting her around. She was exactly the most touchy-feely person. She was only comfortable with it when it was someone she knew really well, but she was surprised to realize she was far less uncomfortable with Reyna than she thought she would have been. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if Reyna was aware of what she was doing.

“Do another round. I’ll go after you,” Reyna said, stepping back.

Annabeht cleared her throat and nodded before turning towards the pitching machines again. She grazed the first ball again and missed the second one entirely. On the third pitch, she finally managed to make contact, but the ball didn’t travel very far. The fourth and fifth pitches traveled further each time, but they didn’t pop off the bat the way they had when Reyna hit them.

She paid even closer to attention to Reyna during her turn to pick up on what she was doing that Annabeth wasn’t. Reyna missed the first pitch but hit the four subsequent ones. Each one shot farther and farther across the batting cage, soaring higher and higher, almost like she aiming for something. It was then that Annabeth noticed that there was a wooden target tied near the top of the cage. Although Reyna was still off the mark by some ways, she got progressively closer and closer with each attempt.

Nevertheless, Reyna still failed to hit the target once over the course of the next half-hour, which was presumably why she suggested taking a break to get some hotdogs. Annabeth was more than open to the offer, albeit for different reasons. Although she was improving, she still wasn’t anywhere near consistent enough to hit the ball properly more than once or twice a round, and it was beginning to get frustrating.

Once they bought a pair of hotdogs, they sat down at a table facing the fence and watched the other families play while they ate. Annabeth wasn’t really a huge fan of hotdogs, but she had to admit that Reyna had been true to her word.

After her first, she turned to Reyna and said, “Okay, this is stupid good for a dollar fifty.”

Reyna gave her a knowing look and grinned. “I know right?”

“I’ve never heard of this place before,” Annabeth said. “How did you come across it?”

“I heard about someone at school talking about it, so I figured I’d check it out sometime. Seemed like a good way to let off some steam,” Reyna said, taking another bite.

“I don’t if it’s just because this was my first time at a batting cage, but this is a lot harder than it looks.”

Reyna laughed. “That’s because the machines here are faster than at other places. You’re doing really well for your first time, though.”

“You didn’t have nearly as much trouble,” Annabeth noted.

Reyna shrugged and said, “I’ve been coming here for years now. I barely got any hits my first time around either. You’re doing better than I did then for sure.”

Annabeth chased some ketchup threatening to drip off her hotdog. “That would be enough to turn most people off from trying again.”

“It rubs me the wrong way to be shitty at something.”

“A friend of mine who said he went to summer camp with you said you weren’t bad at anything,” Annabeth said, smiling.

“Really? Who?”

“Jason Grace.”

Reyna’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, I remember him. Nice guy. Almost thought I had a crush on him, but that was before I realized I wasn’t straight.”

Well, that was news to her. Annabeth raised an eyebrow and tried to stifle a smirk. “Really?”

Reyna’s face turned a gentle shade of pink, which made Annabeth’s grin widen. “I was like thirteen, okay?”

“I’m not judging or anything,” Annabeth said innocently. “Just thought it was interesting.”

“That shit-eating grin on your face says otherwise,” Reyna grumbled.

“It’s okay, we were all cringe at thirteen.”

Reyna snorted. “Cringe is a good word to describe it, even if it’s mean.”

Annabeth waved her freehand dismissively. “What Jason doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, he’s got a hot girlfriend now anyways.”

Reyna gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you sure you’re straight?”

“What was it you said last time? ‘I might be gay, but I still have eyes?’” Annabeth said. “Same thing, except other way around. Besides, jury’s still out on the topic of my sexuality.”

“Fair play, I guess,” Reyna rolled her eyes. “Speaking of last time, how are things with your fake-boyfriend going?”

Annabeth picked at the onions on her hotdog and said, “You are awfully interested in him despite hating his guts.”

“I don’t hate him,” Reyna protested.

“Thinking he has bad vibes is pretty much the same thing.”

“You’re doing a rather poor job not answering the question. Sounds like something must have happened,” Reyna said suspiciously.

Annabeth sighed and resigned herself to telling Reyna what had happened on New Years and subsequently at the swim meet. Despite her initial reticence, it was honestly refreshing to be open with someone about the whole fake dating arrangement, just like it had the last time they had talked. The main thing that had been bugging Annabeth recently had been how during the aftermath of the swim meet, she’d come face to face with the realization that she had actually been totally okay with the idea of Percy kissing her. More than okay, actually.

I could have stopped the kiss at literally any point if I hadn’t wanted it to happen. It was just as much my decision as it was yours, okay?

Those angry words of hers had kept echoing in her mind at random intervals almost every day. The fact that she had basically implied that she had wanted Percy to kiss her was an epiphany that she still struggled to make sense of. On the surface, she didn’t feel any differently about Percy, but it was the only explanation for why she had felt so disappointed on New Year’s Eve.

“That means I like him, right?” Annabeth asked aloud.

“Babe, you wanted to kiss him so bad you felt disappointed when it didn’t happen.”

Annabeth’s cheeks began to prickle. “I know jack shit about romance and relationships, so excuse me for not knowing.”

Reyna snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “This kind of goes beyond not knowing. It’s honestly kind of mind-boggling to me that you’re struggling so much with the idea that you might have a crush on someone.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and said, “I’ve been thinking the same thing too, lately. It seems like it’s natural for everyone else, but it feels so weird to me.”

“At one point, I thought that you were aromantic or something, but I get the vibe that it’s something else. Like, you dissect your emotions so clinically that you abstract them and save yourself from feeling them,” Reyna said.

Annabeth laughed despite herself. “Holy shit, that sounds exactly like what a therapist would say.”

“Fuck off,” Reyna said, bumping her with her shoulder.

Annabeth bit back a smile and said, “Not sure I totally understood you, but you’re sorta right. Only thing is, I feel all my other emotions normally. Just not this stuff.”

Reyna thought for a moment and said, “I don’t know, this is just me talking out my ass, but maybe you have some baggage about romantic relationships or something.

“If that’s you talking out your ass, you’re gonna make me feel real stupid,” Annabeth joked.

Reyna screwed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. “I take back what I said about having a crush on you. Dealing with this level of sass gives me a fucking headache.”

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth said, holding back a laugh. “I’m usually the one getting bullied, so I couldn’t resist the opportunity. I promise I’ll try to stop.”

Reyna rolled her eyes and looked thoroughly unconvinced, so Annabeth leaned into her and said, “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me? When I see you at the Olympics someday, I wanna be able to brag to people that you once thought I was hot.”

“Don’t try and flatter yourself out of this,” Reyna snorted.

“I’m not,” Annabeth protested. “I could totally see you at the Olympics someday.”

At this, Reyna was oddly quiet. Annabeth thought she had touched a nerve, but Reyna looked up at her demurely and said, “You really think so?”

Annabeth blinked. “Yeah, I do.”

A shy smile made its way across Reyna’s face. “Thanks, Annabeth. It’s always been a dream of mine to compete in them someday, so it means a lot to hear you say that.”

“I have full faith in you,” Annabeth said earnestly. “I’m sure you can do it.”

Reyna laughed and said, “What ever happened to wanting to beat me at a meet?”

“Oh don’t worry, you can still be an Olympian after I kick your ass at State,” Annabeth said casually.

Reyna raised an eyebrow, her eyes darkening. “Is that so?”

Annabeth coughed surreptitiously and turned to finish her hotdog. Reyna bit back a smile but otherwise chose to spare her by not pursuing the topic any further. The silence gave Annabeth time to collect her thoughts and dwell more on what Reyna had said. There was a lot to process, but one thing in particular had struck a chord with her.

“About what you said earlier, about me having baggage about romance and stuff,” Annabeth began slowly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like being in a relationship was something meant for me. Not sure if I told you, but my mom left my dad and I when I was still a kid. She never explained why, but it really wrecked the both of us. Eventually, my dad remarried and moved on, but I don’t think I ever did. Move on, I mean. It’s hard for me to think about getting into a relationship when I saw what it did to my family, what it did to me,” Annabeth continued.

Reyna pressed her lips in a line and nodded. “My mom left our family too. I can understand how that would really affect your views on romantic relationships.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Reyna shrugged. “She had a good reason for it, so it’s whatever.”

She was tempted to ask Reyna more about it, but she was afraid of overstepping her bounds so she remained silent.

“I don’t know if it’s something I never wanted or if it’s something that I never allowed myself to want,” Annabeth said quietly.

Reyna was silent for a while before she said, “Does that even matter though?”

Annabeth looked at her with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Do you really get any value out of getting an answer to that question? Isn’t the only thing that matters what you want now?”

There was a pause. “I don’t want something that isn’t meant to last.”

“You have no way of knowing unless you give it a shot,” Reyna said softly. “Besides, what have you got to lose?”

“Everything.” Annabeth dug her fingernails into her palms. “I could lose everything. Percy is too important to me. I- I can’t lose him.”

Reyna was silent for a while before she said, “I don’t have any advice for you. I think, at the end of the day, it comes down to what you want and what you’re willing to risk for it. Only you can answer that.”

Annabeth nodded slowly and said, “Yeah. You’re right. I just wish it were easier.”

“Something tells me you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out,” Reyna said. “Besides, if all else fails, we can come here and you can hit baseballs as hard as you fucking can to get it out of your system.”

That managed to get a laugh out of her. “I might have to take you up on that sometime.”

Reyna opened her mouth to say something more, but then she looked past Annabeth’s shoulder and smirked. “Speaking of the devil.”

When Annabeth followed Reyna’s line of sight, she saw Percy standing by the entrance by three of his teammates from the swim team. One of that had said something that made him laugh, so he still hadn’t noticed her. She wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing him here, but she didn’t have long to dwell on it because one of his teammates spotted her and nudged Percy to get his attention.

Percy smiled once he saw her and gave her a small wave. At first, it didn’t seem like he would come over, but his teammates shoved him towards her, making him scowl.

He walked over and said, “Hey, fancy seeing you here.”

Annabeth cleared her throat and said, “Um, yeah, likewise. Reyna invited me here to hangout.”

Percy nodded to Reyna in greeting and said, “Hi, forgot if I ever introduced myself, but I’m Percy.”

Reyna offered him her hand and said, “Reyna. Annabeth here has told me a lot about you.”

He shook it with a bemused smile. “Only good things I hope?”

A sly smile danced on Reyna’s lips. “All sorts of good things actually.”

Percy’s questioning gaze flitted to Annabeth’s for a fraction of a second before immediately returning to Reyna. Though the way they spoke was casual, Annabeth felt a charged tension in the air, like anytime the two of them met. She assumed Percy was only going to make things worse until he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I, um, wanted to apologize for how standoffish I acted the last few times we met. It was a dick move, and I’m sorry about that,” he said.

Reyna blinked in surprise. “Oh, no worries. I wasn’t much better either.”

And just like that, the tension dissipated almost immediately. The two of them still looked awkward around each other, but the vague sense of hostility between them had faded. Percy’s apology had been enough of a metaphorical olive branch, Annabeth supposed.

“I know you came here with some friends, but do you want to try going a round or two in the cages with me?” Reyna asked suddenly.

Percy swayed on his heels. “Um.”

Reyna shrugged and said, “Just some friendly competition, promise.”

Percy looked to Annabeth for guidance, but Annabeth was just as clueless about Reyna’s motives as he was so she could only shrug. He mulled over it for a little while longer before nodding and following Reyna inside the batting cage. Before she joined them, Annabeth threw away the left overs of her hotdog and washed her hands to get the ketchup off her fingers. When she returned, Reyna finished slipping on her helmet and turned to Percy.

“We’ll do three rounds each, so fifteen pitches total. The person that hits that wooden target over there the most or gets closest to hitting it wins. Deal?” Reyna explained.

Percy nodded and leaned against the fence, next to the bench where Annabeth sat. They watched Reyna hit four of the first five pitches before it was Percy’s turn. Percy missed the first two pitches and only barely grazed the third one, sending it shooting upwards into the fence. He got decent hits on the last two, but like Annabeth, they barely traveled further than halfway across the batting cage.

Reyna hit four pitches again, and the last three sailed close to the target but fell just short. Percy’s next turn went much like his first. He managed to hit the ball each time, but the contact was too shaky to send it a decent distance. On Reyna’s last turn, she hit every single pitch, each getting closer to the target than the last, but in the end she didn’t manage to hit it. Reyna scowled when she stepped away from the plate and removed her helmet. Annabeth didn’t see why she was so upset. Judging by the previous rounds, it would be very unlikely for Percy to do any better than her.

Percy got good contact on the first three pitches, actually sending them all the way to the back fence, but they lacked the height needed to reach the target. On the fourth pitch, Percy’s grip on the bat slipped, causing it fly out of his hands instead of hitting the ball. His face was grim before the final pitch, but Annabeth could see that there were still traces of hope burning in his eyes. He had been subtly altering each of his swings in the last round, like he was testing something.

The pitching machine launched the last ball towards him, and Percy waited for the right moment before swinging. The ball exploded off his bat and shot all the way to the other side of the cage. Annabeth stood up from the bench and held her breath, watching the arcing trajectory of the ball. When the ball hit the target, barely off center, she grinned and threw an arm around him without thinking.

“Holy shit! You actually did it!” Annabeth beamed.

“Somehow,” Percy said, grinning. “I’m pretty sure that I just got lucky.”

When Reyna cleared her throat, Annabeth grew aware of how close she was to Percy, so she quickly disentangled herself from him, her face burning.

“You won, fair and square,” Reyna said, offering her hand again.

Percy turned to her and shook her hand. “I’m just glad I didn’t totally embarrass myself.”

Reyna rolled her eyes and said, “If anyone embarrassed themselves today, it was me. That was the second time I’ve lost to you.”

Percy furrowed his brow. “Second? There was another time?”

Reyna hummed under her breath, a twinkle in her eye. “I wonder.”

That did nothing to clear his confusion, but it was clear Reyna wasn’t going to elaborate so he didn’t press the issue. It was clear to Annabeth that Reyna was messing with him, but it didn’t seem malicious enough to make her angry. Still, she wished she knew what was going through Reyna’s head.

One of Percy’s teammates called out to him from the rental kiosk, so Percy thanked Reyna for the game and said goodbye to Annabeth before he left. Annabeth waved to him and watched him leave before she turned to Reyna with a frown.

“What was all that about?”

Reyna shrugged. “Nothing.”

“It was super obvious that you were messing with him,” Annabeth said, narrowing her eyes.

“Only a little bit,” Reyna said, smiling. “Don’t worry, it was just for shits and giggles.”

Annabeth pursed her lips. “Well, as long as you weren’t doing it to be mean, I guess it’s fine.”

“It’s nothing to get working up about,” Reyna laughed. “How do you feel about going another round?”

It was a poorly disguised attempt to change to the conversation, but Annabeth didn’t feel like pursuing the topic any further, so she sighed and said, “Sure, why not. About time I get my ass kicked again.”

[sidnihoudini]

fic: let’s not try to figure out everything at once

post-15x20 read on ao3 instead

“Come on, Sammy,” Dean says with a smile. “Let me buy you dinner.”

*

Just like on earth, Dean’s idea of a nice date is flicking a fake credit card at Sam, rattling off his food order, and waiting in the car.

Sam bounces back down the little roadside diner steps with a plastic bag stretched heavy with food.

“Hey,” he says through the open passenger window, startling Dean’s hand away from the tape deck. “Remember Three Rocks?”

He opens the door as Dean screws up his face and asks, “What, like Oregon?”

“Yeah.” Sam gets his legs in and Dean starts the engine. “Spring Equinox. You got hexed, and we didn’t figure it out until you started to hoard like… cornflower and cinnamon sticks and shit?”

That’s the nicest, shortest way to tell the story. Dean snorts.

“Of course I remember that,” he says. “Friggin’ fertility witches, man.”

Sam laughs again, because Dean’s foibles with the dark arts always tickle him.

“Remember how it made you go crazy?” he presses. For three long days, Dean oscillated between hoarding, sweating, and acting like a prickly pear around everyone who wasn’t Sam. That’s why it took them so long to notice -- it wasn’t until late on day three that Dean started with the stockpiling. “Well, the waiter you wanted to knock out is the one who just served me your pie.”

Dean scoffs and starts eyeing the bag. “Everyone has bad days, man. What do you want me to do about it now?”

“Well next time, you can go in, for starters.” Sam punctuates his request by throwing the credit card back at Dean. “And they didn’t have any cherry left.”

As Dean catches the card with a hand slap to the chest, he also leans over to curiously peer into the bag. “What’d you get me?”

“Apple.” Sam reaches back for his seatbelt, even though there probably aren’t any car accidents or speed traps in Heaven. He catches the sudden weird look on Dean’s face and raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Dean’s eyes go all squinty into the distance as he tries to figure something out.

“Why is the place where I threatened to knock some guy out up here in Heaven?” he wonders, gaze suddenly snapping over to Sam. They make direct eye contact, and Sam feels his face get hot when Dean starts smirking. “Something you want to tell me, man?”

Sam snorts, overcompensates, realizes it, and then tries to play it off with a casual, “Like what?”

“Like,” Dean dramatically announces, raising both eyebrows. “Maybe you got all tingly when I defended your honor, and now you want to relieve that memory again and again and again?”

Even though Sam knows he’s all twitchy, he tightens his expression and plows through.

“Keep dreaming, man.” He shakes his head and snorts again, but when he glances over, Dean is still staring at him with that look on his face. Sam clears his throat and quickly changes the subject. “Can we just find somewhere to park for the night?”

Dean’s expression softens from I’m calling you out to I’m reaping the benefits.

“You got it, Sammy,” he grins, officially letting Sam off the hook.

They pull out of the tiny parking lot, and Dean stretches his arm out along the back of the seat, fingers curling to rest against Sam’s shoulder.

Sam cranks his window down. It’s a perfectly balmy midsummer night, even though they haven’t been up here for a whole day yet, and they both died in winter.

As they get back on the highway, Dean knocks his fingers into the back of Sam’s ear.

Sam bites back a smile.

*

The highway runs up the coast, and then out onto a peninsula that hangs over the water.

Sam knows they aren’t earthbound anymore, but the blue ocean and the tall trees are all unmistakably redwood country. They bomb down the peninsula with Dean’s favorite mixtape playing. There’s nothing out here but dusky blue skies and deep blue water.

“It’s kinda like driving right into space,” Sam comments. “But like, uncanny valley.”

Dean parks the car near the end of the road and turns off the ignition. “I wonder who controls the scenery, me or you.”

“Maybe both of us?” Sam raises his eyebrows. “We’ve been in all the same places.”

With a shrug, Dean digs into their takeout bag, and pulls out his gigantic burger in a double-wide styrofoam container that buckles when he tries to hold it one handed.

“I don’t know, man,” he says, briefly glancing over at Sam. Sam stares back, and then drops his gaze to watch as Dean flips his container open and lifts the top bun off his burger to remove the pickle. “You got me extra sauce,” he gasps, picking up the drippy, shitty burger with both hands. “Have I told you I love you lately?”

Smiling, Sam shakes his head slowly, and unwraps his ever reasonable sandwich.

“About thirty years ago.” Sam takes Dean’s pickle slice and adds, “Once.”

The smile on Dean’s face is big and bright. A thousand megawatts lit up, brighter than anything else even in Heaven.

“Well, I love ya, Sammy,” he says, fondly.

*

The stars come out, and all of the little adobe houses sprinkled up the coastline turn their lights on.

“We could find a motel,” Dean suggests, gaze fixed out on the water.

Sam turns away from Dean and looks at all the houses scattered away from them.

“Nah.” Sam wrinkles up his nose. Dean wrinkles his back. “I wanna sleep here.”

On earth, every new day had possibility -- kismet, and advent, and Dean. The comfort in knowing they were only separated by death is what kept Sam alive some days; he knew this, that he would be here again, whether it happened under the stars or in hellfire.

When Sam got into bed on the mattress Dean never laid on, in the big house Dean never lived in, he would close his eyes and sink away. Just so he could see stars, like these stars, and be here again.

Small, lonely celebrations. They can find a motel to sleep in tomorrow night.

The houses up the coastline glow for a little while longer. Sam lays on the hood and stares up at the sky.

*

“Catch,” Dean says, tossing Sam’s toothbrush into the air.

They keep looking at each other, grinning and laughing as they stand on the bluff and spit toothpaste off the rocks.

“Mine definitely went further than yours, Dean.” Sam is both eternally Player 2 and the one who makes the call. He points out into the dark black water like he can pinpoint exactly where his last one hit and gives Dean a smug look. “Beat that.”

Dean imitates him in a wobbly high-pitched voice, “Mine went further than yours,” and then loses interest in going for distance and turns to spit at Sam instead. Sam can tell he’s going to do it by the look on his face, so he laughs and jumps away right as Dean loads up and aims for his feet.

As he bounces by, he smacks Dean in the chest.

“Don’t swallow,” Sam unhelpfully cackles when Dean starts choking on his toothpaste.

Dean bends over, gagging and spitting, and even with tears in his eyes he still shoots a dirty look in Sam’s direction and smirks, “Why I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before, Sammy.”

“Shut up.” Sam laughs some more and goes back to angling his toothbrush over his back molars. “You know, I didn’t miss your sex jokes.”

He actually missed everything, but that’s nothing Dean has to know about.

Even so -- Dean looks scandalized for the first time since Sam has been topside. “I’m the funniest person you know.”

“You’re the only person I know,” Sam counters.

He knows he screwed up last time they were in Heaven. There wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t think about Dean’s hurt expression lit up in those streetlights.

Dean looks like he wants to say something, too. They stare at each other as Dean clearly works out whether he’s going to cop to whatever it is, or keep it to himself for a while.

“About that,” he finally starts, hedging. Sam raises his eyebrows. “We’re not alone up here anymore.”

Sam gives him a look. “That’s cryptic, Carol Anne.”

“I was here for about a minute before Bobby found me, man,” Dean explains. Sam’s eyebrows knot; that actually is a surprise. “Well, I guess I found him.” Dean pauses to reconsider, clearly still trying to figure out his train of thought. “He gave me a beer.”

Still not totally following, Sam asks, “What, like a memory?”

“No, not a memory.” Dean shakes his head. “Bobby told me Heaven is different now. Jack busted all the walls down.”

Both of Sam’s eyebrows jerk up. “Seriously?”

“That’s what he said.” Dean shrugs. “Mom and dad, Rufus, Ellen.” He dramatically twirls his toothbrush around in a circular motion. “Everyone. They’re all around here somewhere.”

So even with the walls down, he and Dean are still stepping in the same footprint.

“Wow.” Sam smiles a little. “So it’s like, fairytale Heaven now.”

Dean shrugs and digs around in his toiletry bag. “Guess so.”

“So… what.” It’s not like Dean was ever a social butterfly, but… Sam watches as he packs his toothbrush away, and looks at him curiously. “You didn’t go and see mom? And dad?”

They stare at each other for a minute, and Dean gets shifty.

“I just drove around until you got here,” he finally shrugs, playing it cool.

Which really means he’s circling the drain and acting all bugged out, because that’s how Dean always gets when he has to admit he has feelings for Sam in a way that doesn’t include suicide or the death of whoever else gets stuck in their crosshair.

And Sam doesn’t help, because he starts to crack up in a truly uncontrollable way.

“Moment ruined,” Dean scoffs, throwing one hand up.

He turns back around to face the car, and Sam scrambles after him, still laughing.

“I’m sorry,” he calls, voice coming out all lopsided when he tries to swallow another laugh. “I’m sorry, Dean. Hey.” He reaches out and snags Dean by the back of the jacket; Dean spins around and glares at him. “Hey,” Sam says again, serious this time. He clears his throat and raises his eyebrows earnestly. “I would have done the same thing.”

Dean is still glaring up at him but he does let Sam get in a hug.

“You wouldn’t have had the wheels to do so,” he says petulantly.

Sam smiles and tilts his nose into Dean’s ear. “Guess I would have been waiting for you at the side of the road, then.”

“Yeah, sounds like something you would do,” Dean crabs back.

But under Sam’s jacket, he worms his fingers around until he finds Sam’s waist.

“I was scared I would wake up in the dark.” Sam finally admits it, quietly, into the soft collar of Dean’s flannel shirt. “I memorized a druidic memory spell. Just in case.”

Dean snorts, but his grip on Sam tightens, as well. He whispers, “I would have found ya.”

“Yeah.” Neither of them moves an inch. “I know that.”

*

sam and dean’s fuckin around in heaven playlist: * red bull & hennessey - jenny lewis * between the bars - elliott smith * love me anyway - chappell roan * fake empire - the national * pacific coast highway - hole