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notnctu · 4 years ago

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through the lens ❀ l.jn

❀ lee jeno x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, smut/mature content, fluff (romance?), slight angst ❀ details - photographer!jeno, model!reader, college!au, shy!jeno but he aint shy in bed, strangers to fuckers!au ❀ word count - 8k (this is the longest thing ive ever written) ❀ warnings - nude modeling, swearing, oral (f/receiving), some sweet love makin’ ❀ brief synopsis - jeno asks you to model for his internship project, but little did you know, it was going to be a nude photo shoot.

❝ jeno was too shy to hold eye contact, but he stared at you endlessly through the lens. ❞

❀ a/n - hihihi this is author doie❀ ! im bad at writing smut so pls dont hate me ah ha lol i tried my best i also dont model/do professional photography so really apologize if i butcher any terms lmaoo the only thing i am is that im in college and im shy

Jeno had applied to almost a hundred internships and almost close to none returned with an offer, even after a whole month of waiting. He absolutely needed to start building his portfolio before the beginning of his senior year of college. The embarrassment of possibly graduating without any experience loomed over the desperate boy.

Photography had been more than a hobby to him, to the point where he wanted to take it seriously. His parents weren’t the most supportive of an Arts major, but that couldn’t stop him. Jeno saw the best through a camera lens. He had a special eye for beautiful moments and the impressing urge to capture it forever.

It was too late to change his major, if he wanted to graduate with all of his friends. If he wanted to be successful, he had to act on it now.

The swoosh! of a new email startled the sleeping boy. He stared at the brightly lit screen, reading the words over and over again to make sure it was real. Jeno was so enthralled with excitement that he scrambled out of bed to wake up his roommate, Jaemin.

He shook him so violently that the sheets fell from Jaemin’s warm body. “Dude! I got an internship!” He spoke with incredible glee, a wide smile couldn’t leave his face.

Jaemin groaned and had to hold Jeno by the shoulders to halt the boy from causing the room to spin. “Why--What is going on?” He dazely rubbed his tired eyes to blink at his giddy roommate.

The screen blinded Jaemin as it was shoved too closely to adjust. “Whoa--,” he pushed it away and shut his eyes, “--repeat what you just said one more time.” Jaemin held a finger up and Jeno grabbed it, jumping onto his best friend’s bed.

“I got an internship. Someone got back to me.” Jaemin returned the same excitement the moment he processed his words. He shot up in bed and hugged his friend tightly.

“Wo-w, dude! Congratulations!” The two boys hurried on their feet to cheer together. There was no concern for the rest of their housemates, only celebration that roared throughout the entire night.

Truthfully, Jeno had no recollection of applying to this studio. It could have been a random link on a job scouting website, but he couldn’t be more grateful. An internship was long overdue and Jeno had been itching to get some recognition for his craft.

“Hello, I’m Lee Jeno.” He bowed slightly at the receptionist, who had a stern stare that made him feel vulnerable. The first thing he noted about the office: white and minimalistic.

Jeno’s specialty was landscape photography. His aesthetics consisted of black and white filters, city lights, dark mood lighting, and background commotion. He enjoyed capturing chaos the most, a scene where more than one thing was happening. The only reason being that there was more to look at.

“Nice to meet you. The name is Lee Taemin, but you can call me what you please.” A young, lean man strolled his way towards Jeno with a wide grin and his hand for him to shake. Taemin was slightly shorter than him, but his stylish, expensive boots made up for his height. He had to be only a maximum of five years older than Jeno as Taemin appeared relatively youthful.

Taemin’s firm grip pulled Jeno along inside the studio. A small gasp escaped from Jeno which earned robust laughter from the older man. “I hope you can break out of your shell soon. There is no room for timidness around here, Mister Lee.”

“Please, you can call me Jeno.” He smiled, quite awkwardly at the beautiful man.

The tall glass windows, the concrete, gray floor, the white doors that lined the hallway, had to be all too predictable. Jeno envisioned this is what high class must look like. It was the pristine, bright feeling and the smell of vanilla that lingered distastefully. There was chatter behind the closed doors --- mainly directing, and high praises.

The only off-put was that photographers worked behind closed doors. From the few studios he has visited previously, photographers often worked in open spaces due to lighting fractures or the ability to roam more freely.

“I’m actually very ecstatic you signed up for the internship, since you do seem a bit on the younger side.” Taemin gestured toward the sofa in the middle of his massive office. Jeno sat across from him. Water was already placed on the glass coffee table that separated the two. A laptop was opened to face Taemin.

Jeno slyly rubbed the condensation from his palms on his jeans. Taemin’s stare bore deep into the shy boy, who had to break eye contact from time to time. “I know.” Jeno chuckled nervously, “thank you for getting back to me. I was really hoping to gain work experience through mentorship.”

Taemin nodded at everything Jeno was saying. His face being completely expressionless. Jeno sipped his water to regain moisture in his dry throat. Taemin was more intimidating than he was anticipating. “Sounds great. Happy to have you here. It might be a small business, but the experience is worth investing in. Every photographer who has come in and out of my building has found their forte. Let’s say, it’s eye opening.”

“That’s exactly what I was looking for actually.” As scared as he was of this mysterious man, he really enjoyed the comfort the environment radiated.

Taemin leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “I noticed in the portfolio you sent that you don’t have any portraits or any people, in general, in your photos. Do you have any works with people? Since this is a studio of fine art nude photography.”

Nude. Jeno practically choked on the last remaining spit he gathered. Taemin acknowledged the boy’s shocked reaction and tilted his head curiously, “you did know that I specialize in contemporary fine art nude photography, right?” Unfortunately, Jeno did not.

Jeno cleared his throat, “yes, of course. I wanted to challenge myself.” He had to lie, there was no other way to cover up his disbelief. This internship was the only hope left for him to gain something. Though, even the thought of shooting a naked body made him anxious.

He hated how timid he was. His friends and family say otherwise, mainly for the reason that Jeno automatically lit up behind a camera. In all honesty, he hid behind it. It was the only safe place that Jeno knew what he was doing. However when it came to real life situations without it, he lacked the confidence to be himself.

As ironic as it was, he hated being seen. He liked to be the background character in his own life, because the main character took too much of a toll. It could also be his deafening insecurities and lack of self esteem, but Jeno didn’t mind not being the center of attention.

“You like a challenge?” It was more of a statement rather than a question. Jeno caught a glimpse of the twinkle in Taemin’s dark eyes. “Then for your first task, I want you to show me that you can take on this role.”

Jeno scrambled for his phone to jot down notes. “Send me an emotional portfolio, model of your choice. They could be a friend of yours that you feel comfortable seeing naked. It must include a variation of headshots, full body, and body details. It must also be raw and unedited photos. I want to see if you have the eye for the art to capture these types of images.”

“When would you like it by?” He stammered, completely winded at the sudden project that unloaded on top of him.

“Next Friday, and you’ll present it to me here in person. Feel free to use this studio if you don’t have a place of your own with equipment. All you need to do is book a room with the front desk. Any other questions?” The sound of the laptop shutting caused Jeno to look up at the brilliance in front of him. He needed Taemin to help him succeed.

“Why do you take nude photography?”

Taemin was unable to stop the laughter that erupted into the room. “I don’t run a pimp business or sell soft core porn, if that’s why you’re staring at me so funnily. What I make is an art masterpiece, it has nothing to do with physical features or desires. It’s the pure emotion that clothing distracts from. Clothing conforms the model into an aesthetic, and while that works for editorials, it won’t be a consistent thing here.”

Jeno nodded understandingly. Overwhelmed and lost at words. He was unsure what he had gotten himself into. Where was he going to find a model on such short notice on such lewd conditions? He was really going to need to step out of his comfortable zone, in his photography and social skills.

Taemin stood up and extended his hand once more. “I take pride in my art, so I hope you, too, start finding that in your own.”

Jaemin held his stomach from the endless laughter, tears welling up in his eyes. “Nud-Nude photography? And you didn’t know?”

“Jaemin, keep it down.” Jeno whispered and cautiously peered around at the few people flooding into the small lecture hall. “I don’t want everyone in our club to misunderstand and think I’m some creep.”

His best friend straightened up in his seat and placed his hand on Jeno's slumped shoulder, “first of all, you’re a complete idiot for not researching. Secondly, it’s an art form. If you really got yourself a shady, rated R internship, I would’ve told you to drop it instantly.”

His spirits were slightly lifted, but he was still struggling with who he should ask to model for him. As much as he’s already seen of Jaemin, being his roommate, he honestly would rather leave the rest to imagination. Jeno wasn’t purposefully searching the room for a candidate, but he could not stop his eyes from drifting.

He spotted the most attractive side profile that sat two rows below him. He shook his head to make sure he was seeing her correctly. Peering around, he looked for another possible face to shoot. But oh god, how she caught his eye every time she even slightly moved.

You smiled happily with your friends by your side as your club’s executive board members introduced this year’s goals and events to attend. It had to be the smallest amount of alcohol still running in your system that caused you to giggle every time guys tried to turn around and hit on you.

“Why don’t you focus on our club members instead?” You smirked at the smug older boy, who had poorly attempted to grab your attention. “I think this information is important to you. These events could help you develop your social skills to be much better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but your girl friends scoffed by your side.

He got up in disbelief and quickly walked out of the room. There was a brief pause at the sudden movement, but the announcement carried on per usual.

Jeno impatiently waited for the club meeting to finally be over, so he could talk to you. The longer it dragged, the more his confidence was subsiding. “I’m heading to study, wanna come with?” Jaemin poked at Jeno’s knee.

“Yeah, but you can go ahead first. I need to talk to someone.” His voice was shaky and his throat went so dry. Jeno’s shifty eyes scanned the room, hoping no one saw how nervous he was acting.

Jaemin’s eyebrows lifted suspiciously, “who? I didn’t even know you talked to anyone who came today. Donghyuck and Renjun aren’t here---”

“--her, Jaemin... her. I’m going to ask her to model for me.” Jeno motioned his head. His heart beating faster at seeing a small grin appear on your face from a comment someone made.

Jaemin hummed, “good luck with that, bud. I’ve got two shoulders for you to cry on after.” The extra hint of sarcasm only made Jeno sweat nervously. He was seriously doubting his decision, but it wouldn’t be a challenge if he didn’t do it. He knew he’d regret it more if he didn’t just ask you.

Once the meeting was dismissed, you wanted to get out of the room before the heavy rush into the hallways. Unfortunately, a few frat guys pulled you into their conversation and chatted up a storm. Your friends played into their foolery, but you stopped paying attention when they asked for your numbers.

There was a faint tap on your shoulder and you turned to see who the culprit was. You didn’t seem to know him, because you would’ve remembered such a demeanor. His eyes were glued to the floor behind you and his shaky hands ran through his brown locks. His shyness was quite endearing, yet alarming since you weren’t sure why exactly he had approached you.

“Yes?” You asked curiously.

The moment Jeno heard your delicate cadence, he melted like a popsicle left out in the sun. He peered up, but quickly reverted his eyes to the white tiles when he noticed how beautifully you stared at him.

He counted his breathing to calm his rapid heart beat. He cleared his throat to introduce himself, “I’m Jeno. I’m a third year Arts major, um-- I was just--- I know we don’t know each other. I wanted to ask, uh-” Jeno was horrified at how he stammered over his own words. His cheeks burned with a red glow, and if he couldn’t look you in the eye before, he definitely couldn’t now.

“Hey, see you later.” One of the bulky frat guys called and you waved back weakly.

A guy who had been chasing you endlessly scoffed at the pitiful sight and smirked at you, “see you at my house tonight? Been missing you in my bed lately.”

“Thought you would’ve guessed the reason why I stopped coming around.” Jeno heard the sting in your remarks and the disbelief in the male.

You honestly could have left, Jeno knew that. But you stayed and waited patiently for him to finish. Jeno could tell how strong you were just by your intimidating aura that practically suffocated him by standing in close proximity to you.

You sighed and reached to grab your jacket on the folded seat, “look, Jeno. It’s nice to meet you and all, but I gotta get going.”

Shockingly, the shy boy reached out to stop you by your fingertips. His touch lingered before he dropped your hand quickly. “I’m sorry. Are you free this Monday?”

“Uh, that depends. If you’re asking me on a date, then I’m busy.” Rolling your eyes, you weren’t sure why you still stayed to listen to what this random stranger had to say. If it were anyone else, you would’ve walked away the moment he asked if you were free. However, you acknowledged his timidness and the courage he must have mustered up to approach you.

Jeno shook his head violently, completely in shambles from that type of misunderstanding. “Not a date. I need someone to model for my portfolio photos that my internship assigned. It’s actually very important to me because it’s the first internship that responded back to me when I had applied to so many a whole month ago. Basically, I really need this and you because I think you’d be perfect to take pictures of. Oh-- wow! That sounded very bad --- uh --- what I meant is that your facial proportions are perfect and---”

“I’m free Monday.” You cut off his endless ramble and gestured toward his phone. He handed it to you without any hesitation and you typed in your number. “Text me the time, place and what I should wear.”

“Oh actually, it’s a nude photoshoot.” Your eyes doubled in size, completely offended by that statement.

Jeno felt the sudden shift in the air and brought his hands up to block himself, “to be more clear, it’s a contemporary fine art nude photography studio. The pictures are pieces of art and to be seen as that only. I have no intentions or ulterior motive to sleep with you, see you naked or sell, leak your nudes for the profit of your body. But, I understand if you no longer want to do it because it sounds super strange now that I am explaining it.”

Your shoulders relaxed and the fist that formed unraveled. You exhaled deeply, “I’ll do it. We can talk more about it on Monday and I get to leave on my own accord if I don’t feel comfortable. We work on my conditions.” Picking up Jeno’s chin, he was absolutely petrified at the forced eye contact and your incredible, powerful gaze. He was mesmerized by the fire in your eyes, and if he stared any longer, he could’ve lost himself in them.

“Of course.” With that, you dropped his face and left without another look back. Jeno looked down at his phone and the new contact name, (Y/N). It had slipped his mind to even ask what your name was and he slapped his face in utter stupidity. “Do better, Lee Jeno.” It was a remainder to himself to, hopefully, be better the next time you two speak.

Monday, 3:03 PM.

Jeno paced back and forth in the brightly, lit white room. He was trying to find any blinds or curtains to cover the tall windows of the high rise building. It should not be too much of a problem, the extra lighting was a positive. Jeno was only worried for your comfort of the openness.

There was a soft knock before Jeno practically tripped to open the door. His breath hitched at the sight of your bare face. This time, you were the vulnerable one. Jeno only saw purity, yet impressed at how your tired eyes still managed to bid him a soft smile. He admired your uneven complexion, and the sparse moles that dotted your skin.

“Okay, so you want to see me naked now or later?” Filled with jokes, your voice was light and airy this afternoon. There was a bit of a contrast from the first time you two met. Softer, enchanting, almost ghostly.

Everything in the room was white. The mattress on the floor had a white comforter and white sheets. The backdrop. The walls. The hardwood floor. The only color was the blue sky that the tall windows let in.

“Here’s a robe. You can change in the bathroom.” Jeno scratched the back of his neck and his eyes wandered everywhere, but your’s.

“Would you be okay with me just taking off my clothes in here?” You saw the light tint of pink cover his face, and spread to his ears. You examined more of the shy boy’s embarrassed face, finally getting a really good look at him. Jeno was very attractive, and you could only imagine how beautiful he must look if he fully faced you.

Jeno fiddled with his camera strap, “only if you are okay with that.” Clearing his throat, he stood next to the window to give you some privacy. “I’ll go over what I plan on doing. I’m going to take photos of your face details, parts of your body, full body, and portraits. You can lay down on the bed and I’ll direct you in poses. Have you modeled before?”

He was scanning the bustling city below his feet. Cars zoomed quickly and crowds of tiny people flooded the streets. He brought his camera up to his face, not being able to resist the urge to capture such a thrilling sight.

“If Instagram counts, then yeah. Professional model gig would be a no. Nude photography is a definite no, unless we are talking about being filmed during sex.” Jeno chuckled, while also holding the camera steady and stealing a few moments to keep for himself.

For a strange reason, being naked for a non-sensual reason felt even more vulnerable. Laying on the soft fabric, you felt oddly exposed and slightly more reserved. You’ve had countless strangers see you naked. Men were sexually desiring to see a sexy picture. You were always lusted after, but this feeling of nakedness was special.

“Are you ready?” Jeno gulped, finally setting the camera down.

You hummed cheerfully. Your heart was leaping out of your chest as the boy shifted slowly to face you. As he turned, you noticed he had his eyes sealed shut, which caused a small laugh to erupt. “Jeno, you have my permission to open your eyes and to look at me.”

Holy shit, he was trembling with an inexplicable fear. The camera was slipping from his sweaty hands. His mouth was as dry as the desert. Jeno’s pounding heart was loud in his ears.

Jeno has seen his past girlfriends laying naked in bed, but this situation was too different. When he saw you laying there in absolutely nothing, he was overwhelmed, yet astounded at how graceful you appeared.

There was no exchange of words and no exchange of eye contact. He towered over your lying figure and shakily brought the camera to his eyes. He selfishly wanted to capture your elegance. Through the lens, he saw all of you: the curve in your eyelid, your curled eyelashes, the small mole next to your soft lips, the sharp color of your eyes, the way your hair frames your face.

This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. You were comparable to the arts found in popular museums. Your body lines were enticing and an impressive shape. Your breasts pooled on your chest, the round nude nipple in the centers. Your details had to be sculpted by gods, who took their sweet time making you. You were a true masterpiece.

Confused, Jeno felt a huge mixture of emotions. Was he aroused? Was he infatuated? Did he just fall in love with a complete stranger? He recognized the same thrilled feelings he felt taking landscape photos. With each click, he grew more excited with how beautiful the photos were turning out.

“Sit up and rest your chin on your left hand. Lean your weight on your right leg.” Jeno’s direction was clear and firm. There was no evidence of a smaller tone he usually spoke in. Sitting up, you placed your elbow on your upper thigh to steady your chin. Jeno had already gotten down to floor level to you.

Without the camera that separated you two, it had to be the first time he faced you completely in such close proximity. There was so much to admire about Jeno. He remained concentrated on his craft, but it was actually very sexy to see his dedication. It was almost like he was a whole new person, like all the shyness drifted away.

Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It wasn’t simply your beauty that amazed him. Your confidence made everything easy. There was something about your blank stares, when he asked for an emotion, you portrayed it perfectly.

“Can we talk while you shoot?” Your sudden voice startled the photographer. He lowered his camera and his gaze automatically wandered off behind you, which didn’t go unnoticed. He nodded after a short pause and the shutter noises continued.

“Why did you choose me as your model?”

Jeno peeled away from the device, “because you’re you.” He didn’t even know what that statement meant. It wasn’t like he knew you before the first time he asked you to model for him.

The corners of your lips dipped down, drawing an evident frown. Click. Jeno loved that image especially. It was a simple way to get real, authentic facial expressions. He marveled at the photo, but registered the reason behind it. “I wanted to ask you the second I saw you. I just knew that I wanted you.”

“But you don’t know me.”

Jeno looked through the lens once again, welcoming a full view of your stunning attributes. He spoke in a low voice, “then, let me know you.” Click.

It would be the biggest lie to say that you weren’t aroused by Jeno at the moment. He was cool, without trying to be. He really did shine when he had a camera to work with, like a star to a dark night. While he had a distinct demeanor off the bat, you enjoyed unraveling the rest of him. He was, also, the first man you met that didn’t seem sexually driven by a naked woman in his presence.

You had to resist every urge to push the camera away and share the few seconds of his entire gaze before it wandered away. You wanted to rock his world, he was so innocent and beautiful. You wished to wreak havoc on him, have him show you how much he wanted you.

You anticipated an awkward photoshoot, but Jeno made you feel safe and comfortable. He made sure to adjust the temperature when goosebumps rose on your arms and when your nipples became painfully hard. He never touched you or came too much into your personal space. He always asked for your permission.

Nude modeling was a new experience for you, but you were surprised at how much you liked it. or how much you liked Jeno taking your photos. He sat next to you on the bed when you put on your articles of clothing and panned through several shots to satisfy your curiosity.

Leaning close, your head ducked to see the photos. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw just the first few. “Is that really me?” The pictures made you feel an abundance of emotions, you felt what they reflected. Sadness, melancholy, happiness, confidence. You didn’t know images had that much power to make you feel that, especially photos of you.

Jeno nodded, smiling so wide that his eyes turned to moon crescents. He was so in love with the results. He found respect for Taemin’s craft and he was right, he might’ve found a new forte to experiment with. “I can send you the photos digitally too, if you want them.”

“Maybe I’ll print them out, frame them, and gift it to every horrid man who has tried to flirt their way to my body since they want to see it so fucking bad.”

Jeno peered over and saw the tiny glimpse of pain in your orbs, “why would you give horrible people what they want?”

“So they can finally shut up and leave me alone. Plus, this is art and if I tell them it’s actually me, maybe it’ll change their minds to start treating me like it.”

He held his palm up and almost immediately, your fingers filled the spaces between his. “I’m going to need you to start treating yourself as fine art.”

“Keep taking more photos of me and I just might start thinking I’m Mona Lisa.” Your laughters blended nicely into each other. There was mutual mental acknowledgement of the happiness you were both feeling.

Jeno never let go of your hand, and there was a short moment of comforting silence where you two sat in each other’s existence. You were the one to break it, “are you doing anything after this?”

He shook his head. “Well then, you’re mine for the rest of the night. We’re going to pretend we’ve been close friends since first year and eat take-out on my bed because that’s what I need at the moment.”

“I know you respect my body and see this as an art form, but I’m genuinely surprised that you didn’t feel aroused at the slightest.”

Jeno didn’t even realize how much time had already passed being you. You two ate and chatted as if you’ve known each other forever, as if the friendship wasn’t established several hours ago. It felt safe and right, like you two belonged in each other’s existence and nowhere else mattered.

He felt warm inside from your hearty laughter and courage, like he was watching a painting come to life or a photo in movement. You were smitten over how endearing and complex he was. He was more than what meets the eye and that alone drew you towards him.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” Jeno paused to watch your reaction, “in the most respectable way, I was somewhat turned on. But! Before you trail blaze me for being just like every disgusting male in your life, I genuinely didn’t have any sexual thoughts during the photoshoot. That was all professional and it will continue to be like that.”

Getting up from your bed, your mind was working at lightspeed to process his confession. Jeno was fast to pick up someone’s personality, what stood out and what was kept hidden. He knew quicker than anyone else that you were not someone to offend because you were a strong, straight forward woman.

His personality breakdown went like this: you knew what you like, you knew you were going to get what you want, you enjoyed flirty banter (with people of your choice), you weren’t afraid to be blunt, or kick someone’s ass. You carried yourself with confidence that graced your every step, which makes anyone attracted to you instantly. Bold, confident, sexy had to be what came to mind whenever he thought about you.

Nonetheless, he really liked you as a person. He could pat himself on the back all day long for just approaching you, but he knew the real reason as to how this all happened. It was you saying yes to a stranger’s odd photoshoot. You made him the luckiest man in the world.

“Continue? Are you looking for excuses to keep seeing me?” You smirked and Jeno’s voice grew small.

“I--- uh, well,” there goes the nervous stammering, “I know the conditions were a one time thing, so I understand if you don’t want to do it again.” As the night had progressed, Jeno gradually began to hold eye contact and actually looked at you directly without the help of seeing you through a lens. This was the first time he broke it.

“Hey now, I’m messing with you, Jeno.” He had been sitting on your floor, at the end of your bed. You crawled on your elbows to reach him, and to hold his chin to face you again. Deja vu. “I’d love to get naked for you again, and again, and.. as many times as you want me to.”

He stared at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. His eyes scanned your beautiful face to see your lips pull back into a mischievous smile. Gulping, he swallowed every ounce of courage he had left. “You don’t have to say it like that.” He tried to remove your grip, but it latched onto his hand.

“You’re finally looking me in the eye, sweet thing. I don’t think you realize how much I had been wanting that from you.” You caressed his cheek, rubbing small circles on his texture.

“What else do you want from me?” His implication sounded suggestive, even if his curiosity was innocent.

Your hot breath brushed against Jeno’s lips. “I can show you.”

Jeno, the one and only college guy who has seen your naked body in a non-sexual context. Jeno, the shy, sweet boy who appreciated and recognized you as a form of art. Jeno, the talented and skillful photographer, who consistently made sure you felt comfortable. Jeno, the only person in the world who you’d model nude for. Jeno, the dazzling character behind the camera who you wanted more than anyone else you’ve ever met. Lee Jeno.

He seemed like he was inching closer, already tilting his head to fit your’s. You smiled to yourself, seeing that your words were received well. Diving in, your lips swam together fervently.

The poor boy found himself lost in your enchanting, alluring gaze. He let the trance consume him, selfishly kissing the art he admired so dearly. A small part of him felt the guilt and confusion that began to rise. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wished to feel your lips on his neck, or run his hands across your hot skin. He swore these thoughts were not present earlier.

A small pop! and Jeno held your shoulder to pull away. “I’m sorry, did I do something?” You asked, honestly concerned that you were taking more than you deserved. The least you desired was to hurt Jeno, who had been nothing but nice and sweet.

“(Y/N),” you could listen to your name roll off his tongue all day, “I feel somewhat guilty. I don’t want things to be misunderstood.”

“Which would be?”

“I don’t want you to think I coerced you into being my model just because I had intentions to sleep with you.” Jeno was already gathering his things, but you hopped off your bed and placed a hand on his chest. “Because that’s what it’s starting to look like at the moment.”

“Was that something you did though? Did you have those intentions?” Your stare bore right through him. The warmth of your hand relaxed his racing heart.

“Never, (Y/N), I would never do that to someone.” Your hand traveled down to grab his belongings and tossed it back onto the ground.

He silently watched as you took off your pants, and stood in front of him in your underwear. “Then, we’re fine. I know your intentions have always been pure. But truthfully, Jeno, seeing you focused while you worked sparked something in me. You don’t understand how aroused I got and how badly I wanted you to fuck me on that bed.” His hand trailed up your exposed thighs, finally touching your softness. “You’re the one guy I wanted first, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.”

“I-- I don’t know what to say.” His cheeks revealed how embarrassed he was, but his dark, lustful eyes were telling a different story.

A smirk fell upon your face, “then don’t say anything.”

Jeno devoured you, inhaling the light hint of vanilla that still lingered. He hoisted you onto your mattress and kissed you like his life depended on it. His antsy hands roamed your free range, exploring, holding, gripping the parts he marveled over. Small moans from the back of your throat encouraged him to continue.

No one has ever kissed you with the amount of passion Jeno did. It was gentle, with enough vigor to cause your panties to dampen. It wasn’t sloppy, where previous guys had a problem of missing your mouth entirely and slobbered your chin.

His lips worshiped you, highlighting your good sides. Flashes of the photoshoot popped into Jeno’s head as he left purple marks on the places he loved capturing the most. He pushed up your shirt, exposing your chest to him again. His tongue circled around your hard nipple as he made sure to give the same amount of attention to each one.

Jeno knew he was too shy to hold your intense stare, but getting to know you during and after the photoshoot, he could see the softness in your gaze. He was, now, able to see all of you. The sight of you through the camera was addicting enough, so finally taking you all in was more than satisfying.

Your hands ran through his hair as he kissed down your torso. His thumbs hooked the waistband of your underwear, and peeled it off your body. You gasped as the cold air from your apartment grazed against your exposed figure.

Jeno paused to admire your glistening pussy, “would it be okay if you let me make love to you?”

Your heart burned, not out of embarrassment, but at how he still managed to ask you for your permission in the sweetest way. You rested your weight on your elbows, “no one has done that before, would it actually make me want to fall in love with you?”

“It wouldn’t be too bad. I have a lot of love to give and you look like a person who deserves all of it anyways.” Jeno’s finger ran over your wet slit and rubbed your clit slowly.

Your moans filled the room as the electric jolted throughout your veins. The wetness grew, seeping out of you like a waterfall. Jeno dropped down to his knees, and lifted your legs on his broad shoulders.

“Are you usually this wet, baby?”

Chuckling, you smiled at his bold choice in using pet names, “Just for you.”

He hummed, chiming at how he liked your answer. Spreading you open, his tongue met with your swollen bud that begged for his licks.

His tongue darted side to side, up and down and in result, your back arched in pleasure and a darkness clouded your mind. His name and mindless profanities streamlined their way out of you as Jeno ate you out in such a precisely delicious way.

Grabbing a fist full of hair, you pulled him closer, even if there was no more space to fill. Looking down, you two exchanged glances before he thrusted a finger into you. Your hips bucked harder as he eased in another one.

Jeno curled his fingers in search of your sweet spot and found it when a deep moan escaped your throat. His fingertips rubbed and pressed into your plush flesh, causing you to practically scream and squirm in his mouth.

He suckled your clit and fingered you simultaneously and quickly. The pleasure was overflowing and you released his hair to grip your sheets below you. Your legs shook and trembled as he had no caution to stop.

“Please, I’m going to--” you could barely talk due to your face contouring to the splurge of pleasure every single time Jeno rubbed your spot. “--to explode.”

He had to take back what he thought earlier in the day. This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid eyes on. The whole scene played like from one of his favorite films. It felt like he was giving his photos life. Your body twisted and turned, accentuating the curves of your lines.

Jeno had become painfully hard against the fabric of his jeans, but seeing you fall apart because of his minimal movements exhilarated him. “P-Please, don’t stop.” A breathy moan followed suit and your thighs tried to press themselves together. Jeno didn’t allow it, his free hand hooked underneath your left thigh to pull one side away from his cheeks.

Your high gradually grew so tall that it all eventually came cascading down. Your legs shook violently and sat up from the euphoria that took over you. Jeno prolonged your buzz and you screamed loudly, having to bite down on your fingers to stop yourself from angering your neighbors.

Jeno drank you up, letting your wetness cover his chin and drip down his knuckles. He pulled away, at last, and you took deep breaths to control your heavy breathing. It was like Jeno knocked the wind completely out of you.

He stood up and you saw the outline of his hard bulge straining itself through his jeans. The next scene was quite animalistic. You, still embodying your high, sat on your knees and unzipped his pants with your needy hands.

“Now, it’s your turn to get nude for me.” You whispered, tauntingly. Jeno groaned when you reached down and gently pulled him out. He stepped out of his clothing, all of it. His shirt was lost in the corner and his bottoms were scattered over your floor. Mirroring his actions, you took off your last piece of cloth.

Jeno was built. Though his biceps did not go unnoticed during the photoshoot, you were surprised at the lines of muscle that sketched his body. It made your mouth water, seeing his extremely hard dick stand against his toned abs. His red tip fell just below his navel. Jeno only kept getting better as the night continued on.

Pulling him closer, his hand found their way to the back of your head as you aligned your mouth to the wetness that spilled from his tip. “I want to make you feel good.” Jeno’s hoarse voice made your knees weak.

Peering up, you batted your eyelashes at him fondly. “Just a little taste?” You begged, having to hold his shaft with both of your hands because of his thickness. Your tongue was already stuck out, your hot breath causing the tiniest bit of sensation for him.

He nodded and his eyes were trained on you. He didn’t want to miss any second of your kitty licks. You flattened your tongue against his warmth, dragging it up to the top. The saltiness hit your palette as you swirled around his redness. “Oh--” Jeno threw his head back and bit his lip, “--lay on the bed now.”

You smiled sweetly and gave his member a quick kiss before reaching for a condom in your drawer. Jeno climbed onto your bed and situated the rubber comfortably. You laid on your back and he was fast to pull your legs around his waist.

He lined himself at your entrance and eased his tip in slowly. Squirming, you craved him to fill you up to the brim. He leaned down to kiss you, letting your tongue lap with his. It’s your hands with the mind of their own when they flew automatically to hold his face whenever you wanted to deepen the kiss. Then, Jeno stretched himself all the way in and he caught your gasp with his lips. He groaned, feeling the mess he created merely minutes ago.

His hips moved so easily with your wetness, but he went slow. Dragging out each pull and then, pushing himself back in roughly. “Jeno!” Your body jolted up the bed each time. His body fell over yours to hold you intimately, letting you bury your face into his neck. Your lips latched themselves onto his sensitive skin, painting a purple sunset.

Jeno’s arms snaked underneath your thighs as he pressed them to your chest, folding you almost into a ball. Your mouth hung open as he fucked you harder, rougher, deeper yet keeping the tempo rhythmically slow. At this point, you could feel his hits in your gut. Your weak hands gripped loosely around his strong wrists that held your legs down. “You’re pussy is so tight and holy shit---, you keep getting more beautiful.”

A familiar burning sensation set in your chest as you saw how concentrated his face had become. You were so fucked out that you could barely speak, “you—” his hips mercilessly slammed into you powerfully, enacting a low moan every time he reached your sweet spot. “—keep surprising me.” His actions came to a halt and he stared deeply into your soul.

You whined, wiggling your hips for any friction. He held them down into the mattress, knowing his grip was strong enough to leave a mark. “I told you, I was going to make love to you tonight.”

“I’ve already fallen for you.” You said breathlessly, tracing the side of his face and pecking his lips softly.

“You don’t understand what you’re doing to me by saying those things.” He whispered and pushed his entire shaft to fill you to your brim.

You yelped his name and gripped his shoulders, but he wasn’t done yet. “Show me how badly you wanted me the first time you saw me.” Jeno blinked at you in slight shock.

As he continued to hold the deep gaze, he kept pushing his dick further and further into you. He was balls deep, almost impossible to keep going. He fucked you without the need to pull out, just burying his cock deeper into your wet pussy. You exclaimed, moaned, cussed at every push. Holding the stare was more than enough to lose yourself all over him again.

Jeno was drunk with the image of your fucked out expression and every time the mixture of pleasure and pressure caused your eyebrows to crease and mouth to open release sensual sound. He had been trying his best not to come undone, to fixate another climax for you.

The feeling of you wrapping tighter and tighter around him drove him insane. “Give it to me, please.” Your muffled plead called for his release, but he could feel that you were close to your second.

Jeno sat up on his knees and pulled you into his arms where your thighs fell over his. You groaned at the empty feeling, though it was quickly replaced with a gratifying moan when he inserted himself again. Your arms dangled around his neck, foreheads touching intimately.

The fucking eye contact again, how could you get enough of it? You giggled, amused at how different Jeno was when he eventually opened up. He wrapped his strong arms around your back and thrusted his hips up into you. The way this man made you squirm, scream, and shake were nothing you’ve experienced before.

He smirked, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek when he went rampage on your pussy. “Not laughing now, are you?”

You whined in pleasure, brushing your fallen strands of hair out of his face. “Shut up before I make you.”

“Then I’d rather keep going.” Kissing up his jawline, you lead your way to his pout. His kisses intoxicated you with his passion and madness, like the most intense part of a symphony, or when the bass drops after a long build up in a song.

Jeno sped up, ramming up into your slick pussy over and over again. He even brought your hips down to match him, guiding you down as he went up. The headboard was knocked against the wall, your windows steamed up, cries of pleasure from the both of you created the ambiance, the smell of sex filled your lungs. Jeno reached between your bodies to furiously rub your clit to where it felt almost raw. It all sent you into the clouds, the familiar queasiness settled in your lower half.

Your eyes rolled back and your back arched, having to pull away from the desirous kiss with Jeno. “I’m cumming!” You announced before the tension unraveled, causing you to see absolute white. The second wave was much more uncontrollable, Jeno felt you squeezing radically around his dick as he tried to fuck you faster to prolong the feeling.

Your legs shook around his and your upper body went limp with pleasure. You reached the peak of the mountain and it came crumbling down underneath your toes. It was catastrophically enthralling, to the point where you physically felt something leave your body.

“Oh shit..” Jeno stopped his motions at the sight of you squirting over his lap. He pampered your torso with fluttering kisses, hoping to calm your spastic body. “...baby, are you okay?” He asked with a bit of concern of how lack of life you seemed.

This man just gave you the best climax in your whole life and he asked if you were okay? Regaining your senses, you sighed a small yes to reassure him that he didn’t actually murder you. Hopping off, you pulled the condom that restricted him.

He hissed when you cupped his balls in your palm. “Cum, my sweet thing.” You purred and Jeno’s hand pumped his member aggressively. You leaned in to help, sucking the tip and flicking your tongue over his slit.

His other hand gripped your neck, causing you to drip on your sheets. Jeno was panting and with every tug, it became louder. He seemed so desperate to release that it made you smile to be the reason behind it. “Can you lay down,” A grunt followed his question, “please.” He huffed.

“Because you asked nicely.” Smirking, your back hit the sheets and you opened your legs to give Jeno a view. He situated himself above your stomach, as he fucked his tight grip.

“I’m cumming---” He couldn’t look any more amazing. With a final moan, the white streaks streamed out in short sequences. It landed across your abdomen, over your nipple, and pooled around your belly button.

Bringing himself back to reality, Jeno stepped back to marvel you, his masterpiece. The white streaks coated your purple skin and your chest rose fast to catch your reality. Gazing upon your naked body, he was utterly infatuated with all of you. He was so in love with the sight of you that not a single photo could capture the beauty that you were.

Jeno pondered the thought of how merely a day changed a small part of him. You were life changing, addicting, an incomparable character that he felt like he’s known forever, and now, couldn’t live without. It was the taste of your juices on his lips, your sweet melodic music that was your voice, your daring smile that enticed him to never peel away from you. It was simply you.

He leaned down to rub his knuckles against your cheek, planting a lovingly peck on your forehead. “I’ll go start the water for you.”

Jeno anticipated the reaction of his mentor. He found himself at the same scene he was when he was first given the task. Taemin sat across from him, hunched forward to analyze his new set of photos on his laptop. Raw, unedited photos of you, your body, your details.

The hum of the air conditioning droned on, driving him mad. Jeno needed one reaction, but Taemin had been silent and expressionless for the past ten minutes. Whenever he did move, it was to click through to the next picture.

Suddenly, he shut it closed and stood right up. Jeno, panicked, did the same. Taemin stuck his hand out and Jeno hesitantly grabbed it, incredibly unsettled and unable to read the older man.

Taemin received it firmly, giving Jeno a good handshake. “Welcome abroad, Lee Jeno. I expect even more great things from you.”

Jeno registered his delightful mood switch and he was fast to follow up, “my photos, --- you --- like them?”

Taemin nodded generously, patting Jeno on his shoulder. Taemin reached up to tap his own eyelids. “What you can see, is very special, kid. You’re an artist and I’m here to recognize that for you. It seems to me, you can do more than take pictures of sidewalks.”

Jeno smiled happily, his eyes disappearing from joy. He couldn’t wait to tell you about it.

The rest of the week, leading up to Jeno’s appointment, had felt nothing short of blissful moments together. You and Jeno spent almost every waking minute together without the cost of your friends’ time. He walked you to your classes, some even being across the campus from his own. You accompanied him for meals, even sitting in his lectures to just be with him.

There were no words that established what you two had become to each other. Jeno wasn’t looking for that anyways, in fact, he somewhat liked the ambiguity. If only he could tell you how making love to you made him begin to actually fall for you.

You were never one to hold a serious relationship, but you found a small want for that festering in Jeno. It was hard to admit to yourself, but Jeno saw you for all that you were. He truly saw you, whether it had been through a lens or through his own eyes. He captured your rawness and you were able to find vulnerability around him.

He ran to you, where you sat in the lobby waiting for him to finish his meeting. Peering up from your phone, you noticed the beaming smile on the boy’s face. You couldn’t hold back your own grin, seeing him apparent with so much joy. “I’m guessing good things?”

“I got it, (Y/N)!” He jumped into your arms and you laughed at the sudden affection. “He loved my photos.”

“I didn’t doubt it for one second. You’re an artist, Jeno. You create masterpieces that make even someone like me, feel like art.”

Jeno hugged you closer to his chest, giving you a tiny squeeze. Pulling away to face you, his eyes examined your outstanding grace. You knew what he was already going to say, but simply wanted to hear him say it. “That’s because you are art.”

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potrix-the-queerschlaeger · 4 years ago

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boys boys boys

Inspired by this awesome post. I couldn’t resist. Also, I recommend listening to Mötley Crüe’s “Girls Girls Girls” while reading the story. Also available over on AO3.

[Now with a Sam/Bucky sequel!]

Sam wakes to a loud crash, followed by a string of breathlessly hissed curses. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, and why—on mission, somewhere in the alps, near the border between Switzerland and Italy—but once he does, he rolls over with a tired groan, blindly fumbling for the bedside lamp.

In the dim light it casts, he can make out Bucky crouched by the other bed across the room, picking shards of glass out of a damp spot on the carpet. His shoulders are tense, and he’s carefully avoiding Sam’s gaze, his mouth a thin, unhappy line. It’s too dark for Sam to see, right now, but he’d bet a hefty sum of money on the bags under Bucky’s eyes to be even more pronounced than yesterday.

A quick glance at his phone tells him it’s shortly after four in the morning, meaning they’ll have to be up and ready in less than two hours. Also meaning there’s no point in going back to sleep again.

Yawning, Sam throws back the covers, and slides out of bed. Bucky’s still not looking at him as he heads for the tiny kitchenette in the corner to flick on the kettle. He keeps his back to Bucky while he grabs mugs and tea bags, busying himself with preparing their tea in order to give Bucky at least a semblance of privacy.

(Watch out for the break!)

Sam’s no stranger to night terrors himself, although it’s hard to imagine what kind of horrors plague Bucky’s dreams, on top of the ones everyone in their line of work is unfortunately, intimately familiar with. And Bucky would almost definitely rather bite off and swallow his own tongue than admit it, but Sam’s fairly sure their current location isn’t exactly helping Bucky’s general state of mind, either.

It doesn’t take long for the water to start boiling, but once Sam turns back around, two steaming mugs in hand, the only evidence of what happened are the pieces of the broken water glass in the trash can by the desk. Bucky’s sitting on the bed, back leaned against the wall, knees pulled up, and face buried in his hands.

He lifts his head when Sam plops down next to him, though, taking the proffered mug with a raspy, “Thanks.”

They don’t talk, but after a couple of minutes, once Bucky’s looking a little less wild around the eyes, Sam bumps their shoulders together. Bucky leans into the contact, and they continue to drink their tea in silence.

By the time Sam catches up with him, Bucky’s got the last remaining HYDRA agent pinned against the wall by his throat, frantically scrabbling at Bucky’s metal arm as his face turns redder and redder. Sam lands a few feet away, and approaches the remaining distance on foot, hands held up placatingly.

Their objective is to bring this particular guy in alive for questioning. Sam knows this. Bucky knows this. Sam knows that Bucky knows this.

What Sam doesn’t know is if Bucky cares.

The instant they’d stepped foot in this particular base, Bucky’s whole demeanour had changed. He’d blinked at the lab equipment, first in confusion, then in recognition, and Sam had realised they were in for one hell of a bumpy ride.

“Bucky,” he says, quiet, when he comes to a stop at Bucky’s side.

Bucky’s breathing hard, chest heaving, and he bares his teeth in a silent growl before dropping the guy to the floor. “I know.”

Whoever this guy is, he definitely does not know when to quit. He coughs violently, but even though he can barely catch his breath, he spits out, “Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать—”

Sam winces, but Bucky only rolls his eyes, grunts out, “Will you shut up?” and smashes the guy’s head into the wall, knocking him out cold.

Then he turns to Sam, grins, and announces, “You carry 'im upstairs,” before walking away.

Sam glares at his retreating back. “Man, you've got super strength!”

“You got wings, flyboy!”

“We’re in a bunker!”

“Can’t hear you, gotta speak up!”

“Oh, fu—”

Bucky’s sitting at the end of the dock, legs dangling over the edge, bare feet dipped into the water.

Sam loosens his tie as he walks over to him, the bottles of beer Pepper had handed him upon arrival hanging between the fingers of his free hand, clinking together softly. He kicks off his dress shoes once he reaches Bucky, and nudges him with the bottles until he takes them so Sam can pull off his socks.

The water of the lake is pleasantly cool, even in the otherwise sweltering summer heat, making Sam groan out loud when he pushes his feet in. Bucky chuckles quietly as he hands one of the beers back over.

“How bad was it?” Bucky asks, after a couple of minutes. He’s worrying his bottom lip, absently peeling the edge of the label on his bottle.

“A lot of speeches from a lot of people thinking themselves incredibly important.”

That makes Bucky snort out a laugh. “So, Steve woulda hated it, is what you’re sayin'?”

“Oh,” Sam says, equally amused, “definitely, yeah.”

He takes a pull of his beer, eyes wandering over to the willow tree on the shore, and the stone bench sitting in its shadow. They’re too far away for Sam to be able to read the memorial plaques, though if he squints, he can just about see them between the gently swaying branches.

Stark.

Tasha.

Steve.

Bucky comes readily when Sam slings an arm around his shoulders, smiling sadly at Sam’s, “Happy birthday, old man.”

“Happy birthday, Stevie.”

Stakeouts are boring.

And this one especially, since absolutely nothing has happened on any of the three days they’ve been watching the place. Their intel had been frustratingly vague, only alluding to someone with certain information maybe coming to stay at this particular Airbnb sometime this week.

With nothing else to do, Sam checks their perfectly working surveillance devices again, and scowls at the side of Bucky’s head.

Bucky never looks up from his rifle, but mutters an annoyed, “Cut it out,” in Sam’s general direction.

Sam pulls a face at him, but before he can snark something back, Bucky’s phone chimes from his pocket. Bucky startles, and fumbles it out with a clearly embarrassed, “Shit, sorry 'bout that.”

“Look at the professional,” Sam teases, and has to bite back a laugh when Bucky flicks a pebble at him. “Overwhelmed by modern technology, grandpa?”

“Funny,” Bucky says, deadpan, with a roll of his eyes. “Remind me, who was it who forgot to—”

“One time!” Sam cuts in, and throws a pebble back, nailing Bucky in the chest. “And I wasn’t the one who—”

Bucky glowers at him. “That doesn't count!”

“Yes, it most certainly does count,” Sam counters, ready to argue his point, when suddenly— “Wait, wait, hold on!”

“What?” Bucky is frowning, looking from Sam to their target house, then back again. “Somethin’ happening?”

Sam shakes his head, and tries to think of a delicate way to ask the question burning on the tip of his tongue, only to blurt out, “Are you on Grindr right now, man?”

The way Bucky’s entire face goes hot is very telling.

“Look, I was gonna tell ya—”

“No, hey,” Sam is quick to interrupt, reaching over to give Bucky’s arm a reassuring squeeze, “you don’t owe me an explanation, okay? I was just, uh. Let’s go with surprised.”

Bucky ducks his head, but he’s smiling faintly. “‘S not somethin’ I’m used to talkin’ about, is all.”

“Well, if you ever need to talk about it,” Sam spreads his arms in invitation, grinning when Bucky rolls his eyes again, “I’m right here.”

It’s enough to dispel the last of the awkwardness between them. Bucky quirks a brow at Sam, chin propped up on one hand, and flutters his lashes as he asks, “Wanna talk about boys, Wilson?”

“We’ve got the time,” Sam points out, then holds out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

The look that earns him is extremely dubious. “Why?”

“Look,” Sam wiggles his fingers impatiently, “do you want my help, or not?”

“Never asked for it,” Bucky grumbles, but does unlock and hand over his phone. “Just don’t—”

“Open the DMs, yes, got it,” Sam says, grimacing, and frantically presses the back button while Bucky cackles next to him, eyes shining with mirth. “That’s very forward.”

“Oh, he ain’t even the worst one,” Bucky says, looking at the screen over Sam’s shoulder. “What’re you doin’, anyway?”

Scrolling down the list of recent conversations, Sam clicks on the picture of a guy who’s actually showing his face, instead of his thighs or abs. “Figuring out your type.”

He stops swiping when he gets to a picture of the guy in a suit, and tilts the phone so Bucky can see better. “You know, he reminds me of—”

“Nope,” Bucky snatches the phone back, slapping at Sam’s hands when he tries to steal it again, “don’t ruin ‘im for me—”

“You don’t know who—”

“I don’t wanna know!”

“I think you already know he looks like—”

“I will throw you off this roof, Wilson!”

“Bring it on, Barnes!”

#the falcon and the winter soldier #sam wilson #bucky barnes #friendship #coming out #short and funny #no tfatws spoilers #myfics

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patchofsunlight · 4 years ago

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i do like the trumpet but i need to start practicing more😭 i think it's fun though, i've been playing since i was little because it was the instrument i picked in like 4th grade and i couldn't switch

but i have to say all the jokes about trumpet players are true LMFAOAOAO literally i've only been friends with 4 people i've played trumpet in school with and 3 out of 4 of them suck😭 the 4th one moved and i was so sad bc she was so nice, she was the only person i was okay with sitting second chair to in middle school😭 but the stories i have about some of the other ones👀 like i feel like most things people say about people who play specific instruments are true bc generally brass players really are just... exactly what you'd think based on what people say😭😭

and the deer episode is really weird but it's in season 3 i think so by the time you get there you're used to weird episodes it's just a little weirder than normal

but my teacher isn't checking that project until the whole thing is due so i just have to make sure i keep up😎

my only teacher that really knows me and talks to me a lot is my band teacher bc depending on what classes you take you might not end up with the same teachers but there are only a few music teachers so unless you switch you'll have the same one, so i've had him for all my band classes and he's super nice, people will go to cry in his office and stuff like that😭 and he won't let you skip class to just hang out but if you come and play, or have a lunch or study hall he lets you stay in the band room. last year there was a lot of band kid drama™️ and i would go in his office and be like "you know what your students did today?" and i remember he checked in with me about a year ago when this girl was joining bc he knew we weren't on good terms and wanted to make sure i was alright(she happens to be one of the trumpet players from before😭) but he's great he's probably my favorite teacher

and my math teacher stopped making the videos for a bit because he would make the video for the lesson but everybody was failing stuff😭 so he stopped making them unless it was going over a specific homework question, but he's been making actual assignments for the videos and only posting them once a week so it's annoying but not as hard

and my day was pretty good, i facetimed my uncle and talked to him for a little bit, but i'm glad your day was better! and i will be staying tuned to find out if you're the new virgin mary😭 but how was today, how are you? how are your classes going? -🍓

that’s so cool tho??? god i think the trumpet is a GREAT instrument. strawberry how does it feel to be amazingly talented. please tell me.

LMAOOO THAT SOUNDS KINDA FUNNY THO CMENXJWKSK feel free to tell me some of your stories!!! i’d love to hear them!!! i have no idea what brass is i’m gonna search the translation for that LMAOOO FMSJXKWKSK UGH WHAT’S THE POINT OF BEING BILINGUAL WHEN IT JUST MEANS IM ILLITERATE IN 2 DIFFERENT LANGUAGES

that sounds concerning omg do i even want to know????

yes strawberry go strawberry get that GPA YESSS

that’s,,,, so cute. it’s so nice that you guys have this freedom with your teacher??? god i love that!!!! i’m so happy you have a good role model like that ugh AMAZING THAT’S WHAT YOU DESERVE it’s great that he cares so much about his students that’s beautiful incredible show stopping and all teachers should be like that no cap

EYE— PFFT CLWKXKWKZO NGL YOUR MATH TEACHER SOUNDS A BIT LIKE A REALLY ANNOYING GUY BUTTT OKAY OKAY but i’m glad he’s figuring out how to actually do the videos thing!!! that truly sounds way more productive than..... whatever he had going on before LMAO

that’s nice!!! are you close to your uncle???

i am not virgin mary 🙌 my period was late but it happened. things are okay 🙌 LMAOOO i’ve been alright!!! i have no more classes anymore and my high school graduation is tomorrow which is CRAZY because me??? not being at school??? what am i gonna do now???? goddamn KFKWKXKWO LMAOOO i’m a bit stressed out about that and the fuck there’s no more class has made me kinda lazy regarding studying LMAOOO WHICH I STILL NEED TO DO BECAUSE OF COLLEGE ENTRANCE EXAMS BUT UGGHH SO BORING but yes i’m. stressed. but okay! i’m alright! a bit overwhelmed maybe? and like, emotionally tired? but okay. i hope LMAO

how was your day??? how have you been??? sorry for the late response!!!

#nina answers #🍓 anon

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caws5749 · 5 years ago

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I very much appreciate all of the work you do for us on here!!! You do so many Drabble days and drunk writing nights so I just want to say I love you and appreciate everything you do❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Can I just say that this... brought me to tears? Like I love doing Drabble days, blurb nights, drunk writing nights, and those things a lot. I love love love writing stuff for it, for you guys. And I’m able to do such a thing because of you guys. The overwhelming response I get for asks when i announce THE DAY OF that I’m doing something is incredible. I’m so so so so so so grateful.

But that’s not the reason this brought me to tears.

It’s because when it’s 11pm, And im’ growing tired, wondering who’s even up to read anything i write, this message gives me a reason to keep going. Because I know that writing and putting something out there might make someone smile. Might give them something to do when they’re bored and on tumblr and want something to read. This message gives me a reason to finish that last Drabble, even if i dont’ want to necessarily.

I put a lot of work into my tumblr. I think my writing count is up to 300, if not more, stories. I wish I knew how many words I’ve written in contribution to my tumblr and my stories. And i put in the work for myself and you guys, because I know how much Natasha (and now scarlett) mean to all of us. And hearing that someone appreciates it and notices... i’m sobbing. Like I cannot thank you enough for this message. I cannot explain how much this means to me.

Thank you. I love you 💛

#madison speaks #answered

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unicyclehippo · 5 years ago

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Gosh, you’re so inspiring. I’ve been reading your work and following your blog for a while now. You’ve been helping keep me on track for NaNoWriMo with your posts too haha. I was wondering, do you have any tips for writing dialogue? I’ve done research on how to write it and reread my fav books for inspiration but I always feel my characters are so bland at the end? And then the thought of that is so overwhelming lol. Thank you for listening either way. :)

oh hell Yeah nano buddy !!!

uhh dialogue is wildly difficult for me, i find not-dialogue to be so much easier ! that being said, it’s smth im keen to develop so the two things i usually keep in mind is:

a) people very rarely talk to what they actually want to say.

we have secrets & tact & habits & rituals & messy incomplete knowledge & in jokes with people close to us & history & all of that & people say a lot of stuff by bringing up things they “just thought of” or by inching sideways toward a topic or by making pointed digs about someone being untrustworthy/an asshole/etc but never actually saying too much about what they did (rmbr the time they slashed your brothers bicycle tire? - gd, who does that to a nine year old? - he’s genuinely a horrible horrible man).

& b) this isn’t advice on writing dialogue per se, it’s just smth i keep in mind: listen to people around you. eavesdrop. go to a cafe & listen to two friends talk, or people on a date, or someone skype calling their mum. listen to urself when u talk - what are u leaving out? what are u talking around? why do u do it?

humans arent perfect or even necessarily good at talking. a lot of people don’t talk perfectly. a lot of people don’t talk in the same way & especially it is dependant on who we are talking to & in what context. we um & ah & forget words & drop words we don’t need & make jokes & over describe things we really like or that we think the other person would like. maybe they have a stutter or are very shy or it’s not their first language, etc

so take this conversation:

“hey, you awake?”

“no.”

“hm. didn’t realise you were a sleep talker.”

(yawn) “runs in the family.”

“... you know rachael, from the store?”

“... i do know rachael from the store. she’s very pretty.”

“oh yes, i definitely would talk about how pretty another woman is in my marriage bed, that’s what i always think really makes my wife happy. all i was gonna say is that she’s a sleepwalker.”

“know that from personal experience, do you?”

“jesus fuckin—she told me it stopped when her husband of nine years whom she loves very much sleeps in the same bed with her every night but it still happens every time he goes away on trips. and yknow they got a kid,”

“just got one outta the store.”

“picked up a brand spankin’ new laddy.”

“for the low low price of seventeen ninety five you too can have a bouncing baby boy. they eat, shit, and sleep and with new features appearing randomly on the daily like crawling frighteningly fast and babbling like they’re talking to someone but there’s no one there and it makes you think your place is haunted, you’ll never know what happens next!”

“no two babies are the same! this one comes pre-installed with a sensitivity to bees, nature’s hardest worker, and enjoys mischief mayhem and smearing his mushy food all over the walls.”

(laugh) “ok what about their bundle of poopy joy? rachael’s, I mean”

“Hmm? oh yeah, hes just learned to walk, yknow, and he’s started to sleep walk too. they’ve found him all over the place. bathroom. staircase. now that actually runs in the family.”

“Huh. cool, I guess?”

“...are you going back to sleep?”

“i was going to try but i guess it depends on if you’re gonna let me. ... anna?”

“yeah. yeah, go to sleep. sorry.”

“are you going to sleep?”

“of course, yeah.” (a Look.) “im fine, love. it’s not like last time. i just...there are a lot of thoughts in my head right now.”

“you? an over thinker? never would’ve guessed.”

“well i try to dumb myself down for you, y’see”

“you do an incredible job of it.”

“cheers.”

“like, a real bang up job”

“you can stop at any time”

“sometimes i think oh boy this lady has nothing in her head at all”

“you are such an asshole” (laugh) “go to sleep”

“you gonna join me?”

“i think I’m gonna go to the study, actually. read through a boring case and try to fall asleep on the couch, okay?”

“...okay. i love you”

so forgive me bc it’s early & i don’t actually have a story for this but the subtext of the conversation is that she has insomnia maybe or she’s too anxious to sleep & her wife is trying to sleep & trying to help her to sleep. but there’s no point in talking about things like “have u tried counting sheep” etc bc this is clearly (hopefully) smth that has happened before & they already know those things don’t work. gentle teasing in place of advice to let her wife know that she knows what is going on, to let her know that it’s okay. because she doesn’t know how to rly help her or what to do

so yeah hopefully this was fun to read & maybe helped? it’s by no means perfect advice, just some stuff i have heard & that i use for my own stories. i also find it helps sometimes if im stuck in a scene to write a stripped down version where they aren’t talking around their problem or secret & see what they might want to say. it helps for getting character motivation clear in ur head so it comes through in the proper dialogue. for the previous convo it might be smth like:

“I can’t sleep”

“What do you need?”

“I don’t know”

“I can’t help you and I’m sorry. I love you”

“I know. I’m going to go somewhere else to not sleep so I don’t disturb you”

anyway! have fun nano buddy!! may your dialogue flow easily ! may your characters not fight Too Much as you set them on the page !

#nano tag

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psicygni · 7 years ago

Text

commenting is hard and scary: general trends in the reasoning of fic readers

an incredibly academic review of answers, asks, and replies by me, 2017, tumblrdotcom

Introduction

This post concerns the super scientific survey from yesterday. A couple of you asked, so: the reason I wanted to know why folks don’t regularly comment is a combination of things. The first is writing for spones, which is a rather new experience, and the comparatively tiny number of comments on what I think is a pretty darn good story, compared with the overwhelming enthusiasm for the s/u piece I posted the other week- it got me thinking, needless to say. Second is the ever present discrepancy between number of comments and read-counts on new chapters when I post them. Third is receiving comments that start ‘I never comment, but’ and finally giving into the curiosity of what that’s like, to read all this fic and not comment on it. Fourth is the always circling posts of ‘comment on the fics you read!’ with explanations of why and how - it seems like those don’t totally get through to people? I don’t know, maybe they do, but it’s not like I reblog one and wake up the next morning to a bevy of comments.

Methods

Participants included the metric butt-ton of anon commenters, plus those who replied to the original post which you can read here. Too many to respond to without clogging everyone’s dashes, so we’re doing this instead.

Results

There were five main categories that responses fell into: not having much to say (and the temptation of the kudos button), RL issues, finding commenting stressful, perceptions of the author, and other.

The Profundity of Comments

The most reoccurring reason for not commenting (or not commenting regularly) was a feeling of not having much to say other than ‘I liked it. As one anon wrote, “i just honestly never know what to say and other comments are so well-constructed that i feel like my random "aww theyre so cute" would be inadequate.” This pressure to feel profound was reiterated by others, such as another anon who suggested “I think not all readers are former lit majors who may get intimidated to leave a "thoughtful" comment and are reading to de-stress or something.”

Beyond this lack of profound and interesting statements on fics, there was a general feeling that leaving a kudos, favoriting a fic, or creating a bookmark was akin to leaving a short comment saying ‘that was great’. One anon put it this way: “if I'm just saying 'great fic', it feels interchangeable with giving them a kudos”.

RL Issues

There was a reoccurring sentiment related to feeling like one has to be profound: not having enough time to sit down and leave the type of comment the reader wanted to. Also included in this was not having the energy to do so, either because readers were enjoying fic as a way to relax and de-stress, or because they were reading in bed and were tired. Another issue raised was the fact that mobile reading doesn’t lend itself to commenting, and it’s awkward to have to switch to a desktop to comment. Finally, there was the simple problem of forgetting, despite all best intentions. Life, as we all know, gets entirely too busy sometimes. @samttuummaa ties this all together nicely and puts words to what a number of other folks said in their own replies: “Here's the recipe: start with I read on my cell, where typing is a moth#£$&#@! of an experience. Combine that with the fact that I always had a million things to say so the reviews were rarely short. Toss that with a toddler wanting my attention. Let it all simmer in the fact that I only got to read in spurts of just a few minutes at a time… modify this recipe by adding a 2nd baby”.

Commenting as a stressful activity

This section of results fell into two main categories. First was readers who struggle with social anxiety. Second was readers for whom English is a non-native language, and either the difficulty of writing in english was prohibitive, or they were too self-conscious of their writing to enjoy the process of leaving a comment.

Author as a roadblock

Interestingly, many folks wrote about ways in which authors themselves were an impediment. There was a general sense among respondents that if authors don’t respond to comments, it’s not worth leaving them a comment on their story. One anon raises an interesting question, writing: “if the author then doesn't engage with the comments… why is a comment better than a kudos?” Additionally, readers felt that writers who don’t respond to comments might ignore the comments they leave, or commenting might be bothersome or irritating to these authors.

Some readers had negative interactions with authors which turned them off from commenting. One anon wrote: “Actually I left a good comment to a fic arthor and she didn't reply back to my comment but replied back to everyone's else and felt so horrible.” Another recounted a story of an ongoing correspondence with an author that went south for no discernible reason, which made them wary of engaging with writers in the future.

Another aspect of the way in which readers’ perspective of the author interfered with commenting was a perception that fic authors don’t like short comments. A second was that authors - myself included - are annoyed by pleas for updates, but that is what the reader really wants to write. (footnote 1: there is a difference between ‘update please!’ and ‘can’t wait to find out what happens next!!’ For me at least, the latter is more than welcome, while the former does tend to feel quite rude)

Finally, @what-if-im-a-mermaid and @mizjesbelle offered insight into the feeling that authors have their friends in fandom and that fics have an ‘insider/outsider’ culture, which the reader can be very much on the outside of, or that as an unknown reader, that feedback wasn’t pertinent compared to the author’s friends comments. As @what-if-im-a-mermaid wrote “I also remember having this vague impression of fandoms as these groups of people who all know each other and comment on each other’s work and are friends and feeling, idk, ‘excluded’ is not the right term because i wasn't sad about it, but like it was something I wasn’t part of? Like it didn’t concern me?” @mizjesbelle follows up this comment by writing, “@what-if-im-a-mermaid I know what you mean about a comment section sometimes feeling like a club you're not part of. I follow a lot of webcomics, and there are some I don't comment on because everyone clearly knows each other. I know they don't mean to be unwelcoming, but it can feel awkward.” (footnote 2: I have made all of my fandom friends through discussions started in comments on stories and trust me, if you comment on a story of mine, I remember you and I love you)

Other

There were a number of reasons that fell outside the above mentioned themes. These are that a fic is bad and the reader doesn’t want to leave criticism, being overwhelmed with feels after finishing reading a fic, the story is old, as a writer themselves they don’t care to receive comments and therefore don’t leave them as readers, and not realizing how it feels to put yourself out there and publish creative work. @what-if-im-a-mermaid writes, “I think part of it is that if you’re a casual fic reader and you’ve never put yourself out there by posting stuff you created to The Interweb it can be hard understand how incredibly rewarding receiving any feedback at all is. For the longest time I thought of fic writers as a bunch of people who find writing so easy and intrinsically rewarding that they post billions of words on line for free, because it makes them happy. They’re obviously Real Writers, very good at what they do, so why should feedback from a random girl who knows nothing about lit and writing affect them in any way? ‘ (footnote 3: it does make me happy, it’s so asldkfjasldkjf not easy, and if you enjoyed my story, you’re not random, see footnote 2 about how much I love you)

Discussion

Overall, a number of reasons stated here have made the rounds in fandom before: old stories tend to get few comments, folks don’t want to be rude and leave criticism, English is a ridiculous language, talking to authors can be scary, commenting is just plain hard when we all have work/school/kids/whatever, and the kudos button is right there for the clicking.

One aspect of these responses that surprised me was the variability. A lot of people have very different reasons for not commenting, which I hadn’t ever really considered before. As a writer, I interpret a lack of comments to mean that my writing is bad or boring, and even if folks are reading it, it’s more so out of not being able to find better fic than any true enjoyment.

Another thing I hadn’t thought about was the fact that for readers, the kudos button can feel the same as leaving a short comment - I don’t know about other writers, but those two feel entirely and hugely different to me. However, having read through all your responses I think I can change a bit and take kudos more to heart and hear what you’re all saying: you enjoyed the story and had you commented, that’s likely exactly what the comment would read. At the same time, I’d encourage all of you to consider how it feels to see a list of names of folks who have left kudos and know full well that only a handful of them stopped to tell you that they liked your story.

I was also surprised by the way in which a writer responding to comments made such an impact. I had no idea anyone responded until one day I left a comment and got a response back and then I started doing it myself. I mcfreaking love talking to readers through comments, especially on chaptered fic as I get to see their reactions as the story develops. It’s like getting to read my own story through someone else’s eyes and experience it as if I’m the reader who doesn’t know what’s coming up in the next chapter, with all of that thrill and fun. The same goes for one shots, though I don’t get to build that rapport over the course of the story.

Further Research

One question I’m left with is: for those of you who do comment, what is the draw for you? And for those of you who don’t, is there a way for authors to engage you so that you would comment? An anon wrote, ““FFN has this culture of the idea of asking for reviews being tacky, probably from the occasional 'I'll post the next chapter after 100 reviews' fics” which I’m not suggesting or anything of the sort. I don’t think that begging for comments is exactly the way through this. I’m more curious as to whether there is anything that might change your commenting behavior - because trust me, I’ll do it.

Conclusion

Fandom is the best and continues to be one of the great joys of my life, and I imagine many of yours. I wish I could convince everyone to comment, but I also respect all the reasons all y’all have furnished as to why that’s not realistic to ask.

#at the same time...#it's the holidays #leave a fic author you love a note #commenting #fic comments #long post #writing is fun!

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letsdiscoverkitty · 6 years ago

Note

1/2 Re: the work issue ... I have returned to full-time work after having 6 months off. I've only been back 2 weeks & it is tiring but it was the best decision I made for my mental health this year. Being at home kept me bored & isolated, with lots of time on my hands which anorexia and my depression took advantage of. I am also still physically quite poorly, but I convinced my team to let me give it a shot & it's really paid off so far. I feel like I have structure & purpose to my days & ...

2/2 ... work keeps my mind preoccupied. Plus, being around other adults all day is really beneficial. It is a constant reminder of WHY I want to get well again - to live a fulfilled life. I think it's really about using work (or other activities of engagement) for YOUR recovery, rather than letting it become an excuse for not moving forward. Again, just my experiences around this issue, but something you & other followers might find helpful xx

Thank you for sharing your recent experience Simone, I can absolutely see where you are coming from and I am really glad to hear that this step is working out for the better for you. It is definitely something that is on my mind a lot...my GP and ED team are all for me doing some volunteering to build in structure to my days however from past experiences they think that jumping back into work would be quite detrimental for me. It is hard because there are both pros and cons of both sides and like I said, I have a v strong work ethic.

However I am slowly beginning to build up some structure to my days, despite it being quite a slow process, I have 2 mornings a week that are blocked out for appointments (Mondays and Wednesdays), and I am now helping out at cubs which is a Wednesday evening and might be a bit more in terms of training depending on how much I want to be doing/helping with. I am on the list for the local cat and dog rescue centre so I am hoping to hear back from them soon. I might also be going to one session a week for some bone strength things as my GP has referred me on due to my latest bone health. I then try to visit my nan once a week if I can to help out and take her for coffee; and I am slowly trying to get back in contact with a few people. It doesn’t sound like much but at the moment this is all I can manage. Im also helping around the house and garden, but yes I find that my depression and anxiety can really spike as well as anorexia becoming v loud being in this state.

I would like to get back to some part time work, although I am trying to think about how/what industry as I have worked in both catering and retail before - catering, well, I am not sure if the best of ideas and retail I found incredibly incredibly boring and with part time they are not the best industry for making sure you get breaks and you are on your feet a lot. Amongst all of this I am still continuing to slowly research into some apprenticeships/possibilities although this has hit a bit of a wall recently as I have been feeling v overwhelmed by it all. Okay, wow, ramble over, sorry about that. I hope you have a lovely day, remember to find some time for yourself amongst this new job commitment. Your health and wellbeing has to come first xxx

#mit-liebe-xo #asks

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imagineproduce101 · 7 years ago

Text

Passion Ch. 6

Ever since you accidentally spilled your lunch on Im Youngmin, the popular chaebol senior with money and fame, he’s seemed to hate you. However, when some odd photos of the two of you arguing appear in a tabloid, he has a solution as to how you can make up for it– pretend to be his girlfriend.

read chapter one here | read chapter five here

high school au + fake dating au

same universe/basic timeline as let me love you

multichaptered for all you youngmin stans!

dancer!reader

reader is a second-year in high school; youngmin is a third-year

“I can’t believe I let you drag me into this,” you grumbled from your position next to Youngmin, standing awkwardly in the entrance of one of the fanciest hotels in Gangnam.

“Free food,” Youngmin whispered back playfully, making you nudge his side. The gesture made a thousand cameras flash, and you did your best to not roll your eyes. You, Youngmin, Youngjae and Hyemi (who was carrying a sleepy Daehwi) were standing at the entrance of the Lai gala, thrown to celebrate the opening of another strip mall in Busan by the Lais. Lai Guanlin, another student at your high school, though a year younger than you, was the nephew of the family throwing the event. Youngmin had pleaded for you to attend, explaining that these types of events were usually extremely dry and boring, even with Daehwi there.

“(y/n), is this your first gala?” Hyemi asked, not unkindly, as she glanced over at you. You hurried to nod, smiling at the sweet woman. “Well, Youngmin, keep her close, I don’t want her getting overwhelmed or worried.”

Youngmin nodded, hand immediately going to your waist. You froze in fear, realizing how familiar the position had gotten for the two of you. The two of you had gotten through the night so far without getting into a single argument, setting a definite record for ‘most time without yelling’.

“You ready to head inside?” Youngmin asked you quietly. You nodded your head mutely, letting him lead the way. The four of you had gotten there fairly late, and there was already a good number of people milling around the space reserved, either dancing, mingling, or sitting at the tables that were arranged on one side of the room. “Food?”

“Yes, please,” you nodded, heaving a sigh of relief at the thought of having something to keep you busy. There were so many incredibly important people in the room, and you were terrified at the thought of making even one wrong move.

“Wow, they got some really fancy meat,” Youngmin whistled, impressed, “the Lais really went all out with this event.”

“I guess so,” you shrugged, not really able to tell the difference. “So, how are you enjoying the feeling of recently graduating?”

Youngmin grinned, loading food onto his plate, “not much different. It’s summer, so I guess the feeling of freedom hasn’t really set in yet.”

“Noona, can you help me get food too?” Daehwi asked, tugging on your pant leg. Apparently, Hyemi had set her son down and let him loose.

“Sure,” you smiled down at the adorable boy, grabbing a plate for him as well, “what do you want?”

“Beans.” Daehwi said firmly, nodding his head. Youngmin looked over at you in amusement, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. You glared at him.

“Just beans?” You asked, raising a casual eyebrow. From her seat, Hyemi sent you an embarrassed smile. Clearly, this wasn’t a new thing.

“Yes. Beans,” Daehwi said serenely, “with a bit of salt, please.”

More upbeat music started up as you carefully spooned some beans onto Daehwi’s plate, and slowly, couples began filling the dance floor. One couple in particular caught your eye—Lai Guanlin and Kim Hyojin, both juniors at your high school, who were dancing slowly. You smiled at the sight.

“They’re cute,” you commented to Youngmin, who hummed in agreement.

“Guanlin’s had a crush on her for ages,” he replied, chuckling at the sight, “I guess fate decided to bless him.”

“Really?” You looked up at Youngmin before looking back at the couple, “that’s adorable.”

Youngmin grinned, patting you on the back. “Hey bub, you got all the food you need?” He asked Daehwi, holding his hand out for the younger to grasp. Daehwi nodded, following Youngmin to the table where his parents had sat, you right behind them.

“(y/n), you should live with us,” Daehwi said abruptly, through a rather large mouthful of beans. You had been sipping some water when he said that, and started coughing, eyes watering as you wheezed.

“Daehwi-ah, I don’t think that would work too well,” Youngmin said, eyes playful as they met yours. You were still coughing, trying to suppress the tickling in your throat.

“Why not?” Daehwi pouted, “I like (y/n), you like (y/n), Mom likes (y/n).”

“Well, (y/n) has their own family that they need to take care of,” Youngmin explained carefully. You nodded with a smile.

“Oh,” Daehwi nodded, clearly thinking about this new revelation.

“So, Daehwi,” you looked down at the adorable child, who was slowly spooning beans into his mouth. “Do you have any plans for the summer?”

Daehwi perked up, looking up at you with a wide smile, “yeah! I’m going to lots of summer camps!”

“Oh, really?” you smiled, silently handing him a napkin after seeing how much sauce had gotten on his face. “What camps?”

“I’m going to one for science, one for reading, and one for space!” Daehwi nodded proudly, grinning toothily, “I really like science, and I wanna be an astronaut.”

“Wow, that’s a hard job,” you said, grinning at his enthusiasm, “are you excited?” Daehwi nodded, mouth full once more.

The three of you sat in relative silence, Daehwi occasionally commenting on someone’s dress or the song. Youngmin ate through two plates and had started on a third when Daehwi announced that he needed to go to the bathroom. Youngmin had started to get up, but you got up instead.

“I need to go as well, I can go with you,” you said, holding your hand out for Daehwi to take. Youngmin nodded up at you with a small smile, and the two of you set off for the back of the venue where the bathrooms were.

“Are you gonna be okay going by yourself?” You asked Daehwi, who just nodded, trotting off into the bathroom. You headed into the other bathroom, quickly going before washing your hands. As you checked your reflection in the mirror, you recognized the person standing next to you—your junior, Kim Hyojin.

“Oh! Hi!” Hyojin smiled widely, waving at you.

“Hey, Hyojin,�� you waved back, looking over at her.

“I didn’t realize that you’d be here,” Hyojin commented, quickly straightening her hair a bit.

“Yeah, I’m here with Youngmin,” you replied, “you’re here with Guanlin, right? Are you guys dating?”

Hyojin blushed, smiling shyly at you, “yeah, actually, he just asked me out.”

“Really?” You brightened, smiling widely, “congratulations! You guys are super cute together.”

“Aw, thanks,” Hyojin grinned, “you and Youngmin are super cute as well.”

You mentally winced, but made sure to thank her.

“All of my friends have been talking about how adorable you two are,” Hyojin laughed, “my whole grade was totally freaking out when we heard about the dictionary thing.”

“Wait, even the underclassmen heard about that?” You asked, pausing in shock. Youngmin’s popularity really was no joke.

“Yeah,” Hyojin nodded, “we heard about the dictionary thing, how he helped you with the English final, and it’s so cute how he went to support you at your dance competition.”

Oh, if only you knew, you thought to yourself grimly. “Well, it was nice seeing you,” you patted Hyojin on the back, “congratulations again.”

Hyojin nodded as you headed out of the bathroom, Daehwi waiting patiently outside.

“Ready to go?” You asked cheerfully, holding your hand out once more. Daehwi nodded, grasping your hand tightly. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Daehwi sighed as the two of you walked back out to the main room. “Sleepy.”

You took your seat next to Youngmin, Daehwi climbing into your lap instead of his own chair.

Later that night, as you sat awkwardly in the car between Youngmin and Daehwi, Youngmin looked over at you.

“So, do you have any summer plans?” He asked curiously, hand going up to loosen the tie around his neck.

You shrugged sheepishly, “dancing, working at my parents’ grocery store. Nothing super interesting. How about you?”

“He has an internship! At Samsung,” she began, obviously very proud, “it was a super competitive scholarship, but our Youngmin managed to get it.” Youngmin smiled, obviously a bit embarrassed as Hyemi cut into the conversation.

“Wow, that makes my summer sound so boring,” you laughed, grinning over at Youngmin, who smiled back in embarrassment.

“I don’t think it sounds boring,” Youngmin replied, looking at you thoughtfully, “just different.”

next chapter

#produce 101 #produce 101 imagine #produce 101 scenario #produce 101 oneshot #produce 101 fanfiction #mxm #mxm imagine #mxm scenario #mxm fanfiction #im youngmin #im youngmin imagine #im youngmin scenario #im youngmin fanfiction

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phandomsecretvalentines · 7 years ago

Text

Love; not wrong (brave)

Happy valentines day 💞💞 i hope u have a great day, where ever you are and whatever you do.

This is litteraly just 4k words of fluffy stuff (although phil’s lowkey drunk in one of the prompts, nothing happens other than him ranting about how perfect dan is, but if you dont like that stuff its the 14th. Theres also a few loose mentions of depression and feelings of anxiety but nothing dan and phil dont say themselves. Also swearing bcuz dan. Happy endings thoo, i mean its just oneshots lmao). I hope you like it tho it was v fun to write. All the prompts are from @inlovesuggest (i got their permisson).

(Also the numbers at the begining of some of them like “[10]” are what year it takes place in, if i think its important to include. If thats not there it can take place whenever makes sense but probably 2017/18)

Yeahhh hope you enjoy! @dan-matian (from @butterscotchwithwhitemalteasers)

(I’ll stop overexplaining now) ———- ———- ❝ i have a feeling im gonna love you for a long long time ❞ ———- [09] ———- It was the day after when Phil realised he might be in love.

After the anticipation, after the endless butterflies, after the sunset Skybar dates.

They were lying on Phil’s family sofa together, rewatching episodes of Buffy in comfortable silence. Dan’s head was laying on Phil’s chest as Phil ran his fingers through Dan’s hair, it was curling at the tips now.

Dan started giggling at some cheesy joke, and hid his smile in his hands. His red patch flared up, his dimples grew, eyes crinkled. He did have a pretty laugh.

Phil titled his head and gave Dan a look.

“I’m not laughing! Shut up.” Dan’s face turned red-rose as he pushed it inside Phil’s shirt.

Phil couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face.

“You were. But I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You’re kinda cute,”

“Oh.”

Dan’s face got even more rosy, if that was possible.

“And I think I might love you.” ———- ❝ The sound of your voice makes me realize everything is ok, as long as I’m by your side. ❞ ———- [16] ———- Even after years of doing tours and books, Phil still felt nervous on stage.

Thousands of people watching him live, expecting, hoping.

He knew they loved him, but that didn’t console the pit in his stomach whenever he was about to step on.

What did help, however, was Dan.

Dan being there. His slightly posh voice, his half-confident-half-slacking posture. His arm, brushing against Phil’s, as he rushed off to go do something; or just so they could touch for a brief moment.

It was almost time to head on. Phil could hear the audience and the pre-show music Dan set, he could feel the anticipation in the air.

Unlike Dan, Phil was a shy kid. He didn’t do drama, he didn’t preform. This wasn’t him.

Dan’s fingers loosely touched against Phil’s arm, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“We go on in five.”

Phil smiled nervously.

“Okay.”

“We’ll be fine.”

As long as they’re together. ———- ❝ when it works out, love is incredible. it’s not overrated; there’s a reason for all the songs ❞ ———- [16] ———- Before the past years, Dan had never cared for love songs.

It’s not that he thought they were bad, or that he wouldn’t listen to them, he just found them rather unrelatable and boring. How many times does one have to listen to someone sing about the touch of another person?

But then he fell in love.

Truly, truly fell in love. Not teenage romance, not a Saturday night hookup, not an unrequited crush. True, mutual, comfortable love.

And he found himself relating to the songs he found so boring.

Suddenly, every overplayed radio song was about Phil.

Every ‘his lips tasted like candy’ was about the specific sweet-sour wine of Phil’s lips on a loud Friday night and a calm Wednesday morning.

Every 'I could spend forever with you’ was not an over exaggeration, but rather, true.

Why wouldn’t he spend forever with Phil? It just made sense.

Every love song made sense.

He had girlfriends before, and a boyfriend too. But Phil was the first one to ever make him realise why people wished to be in love. ———- ❝ when i say “i love you” it’s not out of habit, it’s to remind you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me ❞ ———- Compared to other people, maybe Dan and Phil didn’t say 'I love you’ much.

They decided, after a while, they’d rather show it.

So maybe Phil wouldn’t always say 'I love you’ before bed, but he would cook dinner more days a week than Dan.

He would take care of Dan when Dan couldn’t take care of himself. Phil would always cover anything for Dan, because he knew sometimes he needed it, even if he didn’t say.

He would make sure Dan got home safe, even when he only went out for milk. He’d even go out and get milk for Dan, if he was feeling far too overwhelmed to leave home that day.

And yeah, Dan might not always whisper 'I love you’ during early morning breakfasts, but he would take care of Phil when he was feeling poorly.

He would do more editing for the gaming channel, and he cleaned up the house far more. He tried to do most of their paperwork, because it often stressed Phil.

He would put his cereal in the same place every time, even when Phil always stole it.

But sometimes they would say I love you.

Sometimes, they would wake up and breathe it into each other’s ear.

Sometimes, they would make dinner and hum, in a tone, “I lovvveeee youuuuuuuu,” while putting it on the table.

Sometimes, they would sneak up behind each other while they edited, and scream it so loud that the other jumped off the sofa.

Sometimes, Phil would whisper it to Dan when Dan was too depressed to care.

Sometimes, Dan would mutter it to Phil when he was already far past asleep.

But they both always knew. ———- ❝ those knowing looks you give me from across the room are enough to make me want to stay in this place ❞ ———- Dan hated business meetings.

He hated going outside, he hated going into a building full of near-strangers, he hated talking to said strangers, he hated trying to understand complicated business concepts at far-too-early o'clock.

He wanted to leave.

Phil insisted, always, that he could go alone. It would be fine. Dan didn’t need to be there, and he didn’t mind.

Dan never took him up on the offer, he wasn’t that selfish.

So there he was, a Monday afternoon, looking out the window and bored out of his mind. He felt like he was in secondary school again; complicated concepts, boring statistics, and an unfocused mind. What was even so much better as an adult?

Dan felt Phil nudge his knee with a foot.

“You okay?” He whispered.

Right. That’s what was better. He had Phil.

“Yeah, just bored.”

“Me too, but there’s only fourty minutes left. You’ll be fine.”

Not for the first time, Dan admired Phil’s sensibility to always bring a watch to meetings.

They had both agreed that checking your phone looked quite rude, but checking a £3 Hello Kitty watch was a lot more subtle.

“Thanks.”

Phil gave Dan a small smile from across the table, and suddenly, maybe business meetings with Phil weren’t the worst place he could be. ———- ❝ we were dancing like idiots in the parking lot to our favourite bands people were staring but your dumb smile was enough to make me not care. ❞ ———- [10] ———- //“Change, Everything you are And everything you were”//

Dan never thought he would be the one slow-dancing in a parking lot at one in the morning, but apparently love mixed with sleepless nights is a hell of a drug.

//“Your number has been called Fights, battles have begun Revenge will surely come Your hard times are ahead”//

'Butterflies and Hurricanes’ played in the background, music surrounding them. It wasn’t a favourite Muse song for either of them, but it was perfect for the night.

Phil wasn’t the best dancer, Dan could admit. But neither was he, really. And it didn’t matter. They were together.

//“Best, You’ve got to be the best You’ve got to change the world”//

People were watching them, judging, or just confused. He was sure.

But when he looked up and saw Phil’s tired smile, and felt a soft kiss press his lips, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

And so they danced, a Saturday night, in a parking lot, to a Muse song.

//“And you use this chance to be heard Your time is now”//

And Dan had never felt so content. ———- ❝ maybe i could become a morning person if my mornings started next to you ❞ ———- [11] ———- It was no secret that Phil wasn’t a morning person.

Usually, he needed at least two cups of coffee and a bowl of cereal before you could even think about talking to him.

However, when he woke up with a sleeping Dan next to him, he found it hard to feel annoyed.

Dan was wrapped all around Phil, hand clutching his shirt tightly, their legs intertwined. His mouth was slightly opened, and although he didn’t snore, Phil could hear his soft breath.

He looked so young sometimes.

Dan started to open his eyes, having felt Phil’s body move.

“Mhmm?”

“Dan, I can’t reach my phone.”

Dan’s face scrunched up in distaste, “Don’t need it. 'Have me.”

Dan pulled Phil tightly into a half-hug, pinning him back down under the blankets.

He nuzzled his head into Phil’s neck, closing his eyes as his breathing steadied out again.

Maybe Phil didn’t actually mind mornings that much. ———- ❝ your laugh reminds me of all the good in the world ❞ ———- [15] ———- Dan had always loved Phil’s laugh.

From old videos, to Skype, to in person, to on the sofa next to him at three in the afternoon.

They were playing Mario Cart 8, and Dan wasn’t having the best luck. Despite being arguably worse, Phil had won every round so far, or at least gotten ahead of Dan.

Dan had managed to fling himself off the track entirely— for the fifteenth time that day— and Phil was laughing so hard Dan worried he might burst.

Dan’s favourite laugh of Phil’s.

His tounge-through-teeth laugh, where he tried to cover it with his hands but always gave in, ending up with smile lines and blushed cheeks.

Dan couldn’t stop staring. He had caused that.

He knew it was just a game of Mario Cart, that he made Phil laugh an endless amount of times, but occasionally it just hit him.

Not to romanticize, but Dan swore Phil’s laugh sounded like actual angels. It sounded like young children playing while their parents looked on; like every good thing to ever have existed, all at once. It reminded him of what happiness felt like.

“You okay Dan?”

Dan hadn’t realised how long he’d been staring for.

“Yeah. By the way, I like your laugh. Sounds nice.”

“Odd compliment, but thanks.” ———- ❝ wrapped in your arms, I feel so safe and calm. ❞ ———- Today had been a day.

Paperwork got mixed up, a venue had a miscommunication and lost a row of seats, and Phil’s birthday was in less than a week.

It was a lot for Dan at once, and he was so fucking tired.

“Phil! I need your help looking this over.”

Phil was on the phone, ordering dinner.

'Can it wait?’ He mouthed silently.

Dan shook his head violently. He was just about fed up.

Phil rolled his eyes, and muttered 'Be right back, emergency.’ into his phone.

“Alright, what?”

Dan squeezed his eyes shut tightly, shaking his head.

“I don’t know. Wait— Yes. I do know. It just is a bit blurry, in my head. Since I’m tired. Can you just explain what they said to call them for I’m really tired.”

Phil looked softly at Dan.

“It’s okay to take a break, Dan. It’s late. We can have dinner and go to bed or watch a movie.”

“No, I need this done tonight. You don’t understand. I need it perfect.”

“Not everything needs to be perfect.”

“Yes! Shit, yes. It does—”

Dan was exhausted.

Phil hugged Dan.

Dan eased into Phil’s embrace, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m tired,”

“I know.”

“And so stressed.”

Phil kissed Dan’s forehead.

“I know, let’s lie down.”

Phil grabbed his phone, finished ordering their food, and lay on the sofa with Dan.

Dan nudged into Phil’s arms, closing his eyes.

Phil lightly kissed him, and held him closer.

“You can nap for a bit, if you want. The food is fourty minutes away. I’ll be here.”

Dan sighed contently.

“Thank you.” ———- ❝ my hands are cold, would you mind holding them? ❞ ———- [11] ———- “It’s snowing.”

Dan and Phil were sitting on Phil’s balcony, sipping hot coco.

“It is,”

“It’s cold.” Dan smiled innocently at Phil.

“Yes? Do you need mittens? I think I have a pair—”

“Can you hold my hand?”

“Oh-” Phil went bright pink, “Sure, yeah, okay.”

He reached out and tapped his fingers nervously against Dan’s free hand, before interlocking them.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. It is really cold, actually.”

Dan laughed, “Yeah, I know! It actually is snowing out, it wasn’t all a ploy.”

Phil smiled warmly.

“I like holding your hand.”

“We are doing this for warmth and survival only, you dork. But, I like holding your hand too.” ———- ❝ Just the two of us, cuddling at late night. Enjoying the silence, and the presence of each other. I fall asleep in your chest, hearing your heartbeats ❞ ———- It was 2am, they’re watching a Studio Ghibli movie.

Or at least, they were, until the credits rolled and they were too lazy to pick another one.

So now, they were lying on the sofa, listening to the silence and the others heartbeat.

Dan’s head was on Phil’s chest, a grin as he heard Phil’s soft breathing.

Phil was running his fingers through Dan’s curls, twirling each one.

Dan’s eyelids slowly difted closed, and his breathing evened out.

“Goodnight, Danny.” Phil whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Dan smiled within his sleep. ———- ❝ i never want to know what life is like without you again ❞ ———- [17] ———- In more ways than one, Dan and Phil ran on parallel tracks.

Their thoughts, but their actions too. Their daily lives so delicately intertwined.

They would wake up together, one kissing the other or just the sound of an aggressively loud alarm.

They would get dressed, take showers, brush their teeth, fix their hair, in turns. Perfectly in sync. A well oiled machine.

One of them would make breakfast, or they both would. Coffee, tea, cereal. A petty argument about stolen cereal, sometimes, then a slice of toast.

They would watch TV, or an anime, but today they watched Undercover Cops. Phil wanted to spice it up a bit.

After that, they’d sit in the lounge, doing nothing, editing, or any mix of the two.

Eventually, one of them would get hungry, and they would order or cook. Today it was order, burritos from a local mexican place and salads.

After they ate, Dan would take off somewhere else to do something else. Piano, games, or random things around the house. Phil might join him, but not always. This was as much space as they needed.

After that, Dan would return in exercise clothes with yoga mats. Phil would go off to change, and would return. Either yoga or some standard workout, nothing too much, but enough to make Dan okay. Phil never minded it.

After that, they would return to the lounge and relax for a while. Maybe catch up on a show. Other times, they might film a gaming video, or even a main channel video if one was prepared.

Then one would be hungry again, and they would make dinner. Sometimes they ordered, but less and less, since Dan’s therapist recommended healthy home-cooked meals. They decided on Indian food, Tandoori Chicken and Rice, with a Stir-Fry.

After dinner, Dan would go play games, and Phil might too. Or maybe watch a show Dan didn’t care for. Maybe clean up a bit more. Always something, though. Unless it was a nothing day.

Sometime at night, they would get tired. They’d head off to bed, maybe Dan would want to shower again. They would just lay with each other, until the comfort of the other persons presence lulled them both to sleep.

They worked well together, and had done for years. It was hard to remember a time before they were each others lives.

Rarely ever alone. ———- ❝ a concept: holding hands while walking along the beach as the sun sets next to us and we kiss and we kiss and we kiss and mmmaybe kiss ❞ ———- [10] ———- After four hours, Dan and Phil had finally managed to escape from the rest of the group.

Now they were walking down the sandy beach, awkwardly watching the sunset, side by side.

Neither one really knew what they were doing, neither really cared.

The sky had just reached that violet-red-orange ice-creamed mix when Phil intertwined his fingers with Dan’s.

Dan looked up at him, pink cheeks.

They glanced at each other for a second longer, then continued walking.

“You do realise we’re literally doing that romantic-walk-on-the-beach cliché thing?”

“Yeah, but it’s nice.”

“It is,”

Dan looked into Phil’s eyes a moment, then softly pressed their lips together. ———- ❝ i love the way you sound at 3am and how you look when you smile. it’s addicting ❞ ———- [09] ———- It was three in the morning, and Phil had decided that Dan was pretty.

And not the flowy-hair-model pretty, but the timeless one. The one where your features are just— perfect.

Phil couldn’t even think of a proper describing word; although that may be the three glasses of wine he had earlier.

He looked at Dan’s fuzzy image through his laptop, admiring. Dan had been attempting to play piano, but gave up and was just lying on his bed now.

“You’re pretty.” Phil whispered.

Dan blushed. How adorable.

“Thanks?”

“Really. Timelessly beautiful. And sexy, and handsome and hot and gorgeous and every other good word. You’re— Dan. That’s perfect. Dan is a good word.”

Dan grinned wide at Phil’s drunken rambles.

“I–”

“And your voice, it’s just nice. Calming. You think it’s too posh or whatever but it’s not. It’s great Dan. It’s Dan! That’s a good thing. I love it. One day I wanna fall asleep to it and wake up to it and—”

Phil teared up at this. He wanted to be with Dan forever, and he knew it.

“Dan, I,”

Dan was looking a bit confused now.

“Yeah, Phil? Are you okay?”

“You’re pretty, Dan. That’s all. But that’s not all at all.” ———- ❝ being old doesn’t seem too awful when i think about growing old with you ❞ ———- [18] ———- Phil sighed, rolling over in bed.

“I’m thirty-one now.”

Dan smiled, “Yeah?”

“That’s pretty old.”

“Not that old, honestly.” Dan laughed quietly, “You’re barely over your twenties.”

“People my age have families,” Phil stares at the ceiling, unblinking. “They’re married with a house.”

“Kids don’t make you old, Phil. People have kids at sixteen, my mum had me at ninteen for God’s sake. And anyone can buy a house, anyone can get married.”

Phil leaned on his side to look at Dan. “You know what I mean—I could. I haven’t done that much, I’m getting old. I could die tommorow.”

Dan’s turn to sigh.

“You could’ve died yesterday, Philly.” He smiles fondly, “And you have done so, so, much. Really. You’ve gone to University, had three homes, have four million fans, gone on tour—there’s more to life than just domestic stuff. And if you want domestic stuff, we can do that too. Forever home, dog, eventually marriage and kids.”

“I know,”

“What’s the issue?”

“I dunno. I just don’t wanna die. I don’t want to be old, really. I don’t know.”

Dan glanced at him.

“You’re gonna be old. We’ll be old together. Like the great poet Ed Sheeran once said, 'I’ll be loving you 'till we’re seventy,’”

Phil giggles, “Maybe you’re right. It’ll be fun with you. You make things fun.”

“Yup. I’ll always love you, even when you have grey hair that you still dye black, and wrinkles, and smell like bad cologne.”

“Always.” ———- ❝ when it works out, love is incredible. it’s not overrated; there’s a reason for all the songs ❞ ———- [16] ———- Before the past years, Dan had never cared for love songs.

But then he fell in love.

Truly, truly fell in love. Not teenage romance, not a Saturday night hookup, not an unrequited crush. True, mutual, comfortable love.

And he found himself relating to the songs he found so boring.

Suddenly, every overplayed radio song was about Phil.

Every 'his lips tasted like candy’ was about the specific sweet-sour wine of Phil’s lips on a loud Friday night and a calm Wednesday morning.

Every 'I could spend forever with you’ was not an over exaggeration, but rather, true.

Why wouldn’t he spend forever with Phil? It just made sense.

Every love song made sense.

He had girlfriends before, and a boyfriend too. But Phil was the first one to ever make him realise why people wished to be in love. ———- ❝ How dare you make me smile so hard that my face hurts when you’re so far away? ❞ ———- “Well this feels like déjà vu.”

Dan was sitting on their bed, laptop opened to Skype, smiling at Phil.

Phil was at his parent’s house, sitting on a guest bed, smiling back.

“You’re right. I have too many memories of nights like these.” Phil laughs half-heartedly.

“I probably would’ve just come with you, if I didn’t have a video to film.”

“I know. And remember to send me the file when you’re done so I can watch over it.”

“Yes, Dad.” Dan rolled his eyes fondly.

“It’s your regret, Daniel.”

Dan sighed, “I miss you.”

Phil smiled back, sadly, “I miss you too. But it’s only a few days, don’t worry. Just edit.”

“I remember a lot of nights back then, saying how one day we would never have to Skype again, yet here we are.”

“Stop being melodramatic Dan, it’s only a weekend for my mum’s birthday. We’ll live.”

“Will we? Because I swear I’m dddddyyyinnngggg!” Dan flopped down on the bed, pretending to faint, and they both fall into a fit of giggles.

“Noooo Danny! Don’t go into the light!”

“It’s too late… I can—see God… she’s coming for me…”

“Dannnnnnn! Nooo!” Phil put his hand over his heart and sobbed dramatically.

“God is Ribena Phil, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

They both burst into uncontrollable laughter at this, tears streaming down Dan’s face, struggling to catch their breath.

“Oh my god, Dan!”

“Oh my—Oh my Ribena, you mean!—”

They both gasped for air, Dan’s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.

“Of course, how dare I!?”

Once the laughter had settled down and they were both softly smiling again, Dan sighed.

“I still wish you weren’t so far. I want to be with you.”

Phil smirked, “Don’t you mean 'I wonder how biology can explain the physical pain you feel in your chest when all you want to do is be with someone’?”

“Shut up! Why do you even remember that?” Dan blushed and hid his face in a pillow.

Old feelings, old love. ———- ❝ in your kiss, I felt at peace ❞ ———- [09] ———- Butterflies.

Dan looks at Phil, Phil looks at Dan.

Dan tilts his head to the side.

His head is beating fast, but his heart is beating faster.

Phil is beautiful.

Now or never.

Butterflies.

Two lips, just two lips.

Soft. Phil’s lips are very soft. And sweet like honey.

Butterflies and honey.

A winning combination for your butterflies to get all sticky and trapped, and for you to feel brave.

Honey is sweet, like Phil’s lips.

Phil’s lips are better than honey.

This isn’t Dan’s first kiss, but it might as well be. This feels more important.

Honey.

Butterflies.

Honey is sweet.

Phil’s lips are sweeter.

“Thank you.” ———-

#submission

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chokememrstark · 7 years ago

Text

Requiem Of Memories // Part 14

Ship: Samifer (Sam Winchester / Lucifer)

Words: 1963 (Chapter 14 / 15)

Fic Summary: After barely managing to get away from Michael alive and saving Sam, Lucifer is furious and for the first time actually snaps. The only problem is that Sam is just as angry and still in shock about what just happened and the two push each other over the edge and end up in a situation neither of them expected.

angst, hurt & comfort, alternative universe, au!lucifer, mourning, depression, blood and gore, nightmares, loneliness, guilt, angry sex, smut

Note: I highly recommend to read Nightmares Become Reality before this, otherwise the premise of the story and the setting might not make much sense.

A smut chapter you say? Really? Who would have expected that?!

Tagging: @shebahda @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @spnyoucantkeepmedown @brieflymaximumprincess @kajuned @archingangel @this-darkness-light @little-boyking @humongouscandycoffee

If you want off the tag list or want to be added, just drop me an ask or IM!

Read on AO3!

Lucifer had not aimed to a specific place when he had zapped them away from his brother, so they ended up somewhere outside when they arrived. There was no way Lucifer could have cared though, he immediately covered Sam’s wound with his hand and focused his grace to heal the human. To his surprise, this task was very easy and he actually looked at his blood covered hands when the wound was closed, wondering why he could heal Sam within a matter of seconds when it took hours normally. He had little time to question what had happened though, because Sam woke up from his blackout quickly.

The hunter sat up and checked his stomach almost frantically, to which Lucifer let out a relieved sigh. He was alright again, otherwise he couldn’t have been so fast.

“Where are we?” Sam asked, searching for Lucifer’s eyes. “What happened? Did I… did I bleed?”

“What happened?” Lucifer asked grumpily and narrowed his eyes. “We got attacked, that happened! I told you we should leave, I told you! But no, you had to pretend we were on a fun vacation!”

“Hey, don’t yell at me!” Sam shot back right away, hurt by the way Lucifer suddenly spoke to him.

“I will yell as much as I want!” Lucifer yelled and pushed himself up, away from Sam. “You know nothing about this world and the dangers out there, but you had to leave the island, you just had to! And why? Because you were bored!”

“You…” Sam huffed and stood up too, hands balled to fists at his sides and shooting Lucifer an angry glare. “You decided to go there, not me! And what do you expect, that I’m happy just sitting in a room all day?”

“At least you are safe like this!”

“I don’t want to be safe, I want to live !”

The two glared at each other as angry as never before, both breathing heavily with their shoulders and chest heaving from the effort.

“The little princess wants to live, yes?” Lucifer scoffed suddenly, earning an even more intense glare. “Do you want me to build you a castle with a pretty garden maybe? Do you want to walk on rose petals even? Hell, why not ask me to make a unicorn for you, just because?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just tell me, what the hell do you want me to do?” Lucifer’s eye flashed red and Sam swore he could see shadows form behind him for a moment - shadows in the shape of enormous wings. “I have had it up to here with your attitude, Sam!”

“I don’t want to be kept in a freaking cage, you gigantic son of a bitch!”

Sam had never said anything remotely foul-mouthed towards Lucifer before, which might have been the reason the angel was baffled for a moment and he could continue.

“I’m sick of being kept inside like a prisoner that’s allowed one hour outside a day, don’t you get that? That’s no life, okay, that’s awful!”

“You try to tell me what it’s like to be in prison?” Lucifer asked furiously and walked up to the hunter. “I’ve been in a cage for eons, longer than you can even imagine! Don’t you dare tell me I keep you in a cage, Sam, don’t you dare !”

“Then stop treating me like a pet for god’s sake!” Sam countered just as enraged. “Every single day is the same, everything I see is the exact same thing I saw the day before! I'm tired of it, Lucifer! Tired!”

“You want something different, yes?” Lucifer asked and squinted his eyes. “I'll show you different!”

When the angel suddenly grabbed his collar, Sam was scared out of his mind. Only now he realized how much he had allowed his anger to control him and he was about to apologize when Lucifer crashed their lips together forcefully and took his breath away completely, along with any possible apologies.

This time there was nothing sweet or gentle about the angel's touch, the opposite was true. Lucifer pressed a hand on Sam's back and pulled him closer and all the hunter could do when he felt the other's tongue enter his mouth was gasp weakly into their kiss. He grabbed for Lucifer’s shirt in a desperate attempt to find some sort of support, but there was nothing that could have steadied him at this point. Everything in him screamed for more and Sam was too starved for something like this to resist.

Lucifer took Sam's lack of a fight as a sign to continue, much to Sam's relief. He picked the hunter up effortlessly, coaxing another moan when he slammed him against a nearby wall. He slid a hand into Sam's pants, which finally made the brunet break the kiss to throw his head back in ecstasy.

“Different enough for the little princess?” Lucifer asked before pulling back Sam's shirt and sinking his teeth into his shoulders. Sam screamed out his approval, digging his nails into Lucifer's back in return. By now he was practically grinding against the other, all dignity long forgotten. He didn't know how much he needed to be touched like this before Lucifer finally did it. Sam was still furious and angry, but damn he couldn't deny that he wanted this.

“If you stop now I'll kill you!” Sam hissed desperately before biting his lip.

“Oh I won’t, trust me…” Lucifer grinned and bit down again, obviously enjoying the lustful noises Sam made. His hand grabbed the hunter's crotch in demand, earning an immediate reaction when it grew bigger in his palm. Sam made a displeased grunt when he retreated his hand. He looked back at Lucifer with a daring gleam in his eyes.

“Scared, angel?”

“In your dreams, pet!”

Suddenly Lucifer shoved a knee between Sam's legs, pressing right against his hardening manhood and the hunter finally lost it. He grabbed Lucifer's face and pulled him into another kiss, deep and demanding and without holding back. Screw morals, screw doubts - he needed this, he wanted this and he wouldn't stop now. Between them battling to dominate the kiss and Sam grinding against Lucifer's knee was no room for thinking anymore.

Lucifer almost tore apart Sam's and his own clothes, not caring if he ruined anything or not. It was a delicious feeling for Sam to be grabbed so roughly, even if he would never admit it to anyone else.

“Oh god, just do it, please!” Sam growled, grabbing Lucifer's arms just as harshly.

Lucifer didn't need a second invitation, much to Sam's delight. He was rock hard by now, which made the hand Lucifer pressed against his bare cock even more incredible. Sam didn't think twice before wrapping his legs around Lucifer's waist to pull him closer. He let out an encouraging growl when cold hands slid down his back. There was so much heat building up between them that Lucifer's touch felt like a blessing.

There was practically no warning when Lucifer lifted Sam up again, but the next thing he felt was a sharp pain rushing through his system. He screamed out loud when Lucifer pushed into him with no preparation whatsoever. It was the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure and Sam clung to the angel's neck as if to save himself from drowning.

“You almost got yourself killed, you stupid moron,” Lucifer grunted, earning another pain filled moan when he let Sam down completely.

“Fuck you!” Sam hissed in return. He had to fight just so his eyes would open, but he managed to shoot the other an angry glare. “Are you gonna finish this or do you wanna talk?”

“Oh I'll finish you, don't worry,” Lucifer grinned.

As soon as the angel began moving, Sam’s mind was shut off. This wasn't romantic or gentle, not even a bit. Lucifer was rough and harsh, Sam's screams only encouraging the animalistic act they committed. Sam couldn't tell at times if he was screaming from pain or pleasure, it was all too overwhelming to differ between the two. The only thing he knew was that he kept begging for more, for Lucifer to go faster and to not stop. He was completely lost in this.

Lucifer's pace was inhuman, but Sam craved every second of it and soon his nails had left deep marks on the angel's back and his voice was hoarse and weak. His own back would probably be covered in bruises the next day, too, given the force he was pressed against the stonewall with. Lucifer was not careful with him at all, he was like an animal that only followed his instincts - his hands grabbing Sam possessively tight, pressing their bodies together to keep the human up, and his rutting had something so wild and unrestricted to it that Sam couldn't even find a moment to breathe.

It all didn't last longer than ten minutes, but for Sam it felt like hours had passed when he noticed Lucifer's pace changing. He became even rougher and faster, reaching spots in Sam that the hunter was unaware of before with his deep thrusts. Sam was so exhausted by the time he felt the explosion in his groin that he couldn't let out more than a faint 'oh God’ when he came. He barely noticed the cold filling him up only seconds before Lucifer stopped moving, but the grip on his hips was so intense that he could still feel the pain through the veil of bliss.

Sam could barely catch his breath when it was over, his whole body was aching and trembling and he thought he would pass out at any moment. Now Lucifer's hands were gentle again, holding him close while calming down from his own high. When Lucifer lifted him up to pull out, Sam couldn't hold in a disappointed groan.

“Fuck… you…” Sam’s voice was cracking and faint, but it still earned a chuckle in return.

“I would say fuck you too but I already did that,” Lucifer said and carefully let Sam down.

“Asshole.”

Being forced to stand suddenly made Sam realize how weak his legs were. He couldn't hold himself up alone, so he leaned against Lucifer for support. He wanted to be angry at the angel for making him do this, but it seemed impossible to be. All that Sam could do was lean his head against the other’s shoulder instead.

“I hate you, you stupid Devil,” he huffed.

“Really?” Lucifer asked and Sam swore he heard the smug grin in his voice. “Didn’t feel like that a minute ago.”

Sam knew he was blushing, but since his face was almost buried against Lucifer's skin he hoped he wouldn't notice it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said and showed the angel a finger. “It wasn't that great.”

“It wasn't?” Lucifer asked and laid a finger on Sam's chin to make him look up. “Are you sure about that?”

Sam knew what would follow and he still couldn't prepare himself. After this furious and rough act, the gentle kiss Lucifer pulled him into was utterly confusing. Sam's eyes closed on their own the moment they touched and he could feel a warmth spread through his body that felt incredibly sweet. All his anger was blown away, only leaving room for delight and excitement. He knew what they had just done might turn out to be a huge mistake, but at the moment he didn't want to think about that.

“I'm trying to be sure,” Sam mumbled when they parted their lips, but he didn't move further away. Instead, Sam stayed so their foreheads were touching and he was still holding the angel around his neck. “God help me, I'm trying to be…”

#samifer #sam x lucifer #sam winchester #spn lucifer #requiem of memories #multi chapter fic #myfics #smut #yes you read that right #this chapter actually contains sex XD #what a plot twist lol #chapter 14

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