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dreamiesdotcom · 4 years

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[3:47] Loving Liu Yangyang is like being under the rain; sometimes it feels good, sometimes it feels awful. Today, you can't decide which one is accurate for the situation.

It's a peaceful day, especially because you don't have classes today and Yangyang, the person who just can't stay put and rest for five seconds, decides it's a nice day for a picnic somewhere around his aunt's flower field. This is what leads you to this situation, sitting under the shade of the tree with a book perched up on your hand, the other running through Yangyang's hair who is currently lying down and using your lap as a pillow, meeting your eyes every now and then, saying sweet nothings and compliments. It's sunny, but there's a rain in your heart you're yet to know if it's there to give you comfort of wreak havoc. At times like this, you realize that labels are made for a reason and this is it. Well, maybe labels aren't that necessary when it comes to other matters, or to other people's relationships, but for you, it's confusing. That's what it is — confusing, and it's not just you who is lost, but Yangyang too.

"Hey, Y/N, do you think that guy likes you?" his questions catches you off guard — who? Everyone kind of knows you've got some kind of unfinished, or rather procrastinated business with Yangyang and everyone just kind of backed off on your part since then. His part, however, is a completely different story.

"Who?" you ask without even looking at his eyes — you focus on the image of the book, not reading but still threading your hands on his hair before he sits up, mirroring your position, "Hyuck."

"Oh," you nod your head. A smile creeps up your face at the mention of the boy who reminds you of the sun you loved dearly, "Now that you mentioned him, I should probably ring him up because he needs to drink his meds now. The idiot's caught a fever, tsk. That's what he get for not listening to me when I told him to rest every now and then, soccer is not gonna run away."

"Well, you didn't answer my question. How do you even know he should drink his meds now?" he whines, a dark look in his eyes, "He always flirts with you," he mutters under his breathe.

"Hyuck? Flirting with me?" you have to laugh, and so you did. Is this boy even real? He's really jealous right now? You remember that one time in lunch break when the two of you kept hitting on each other, grossly exaggerated winks all over the place and Jaemin ends up choking on his food because of one particularly dirty innuendo. Jaemin makes sure to remind Donghyuck of the tragic moment at least once every week to this day. Everyone in the whole school knew that you and Hyuck are just friends (who doesn't know anything about boundaries, quite frankly) that like flirting to hype each other up, and everyone just got too tired of your shit that they ultimately just gave up. They just got used to the pet names, hands that seemed to be glued on your waist, bringing snacks over to each other and cheek kisses — but it kind of makes sense, Yangyang only saw the preview of you and your best friend before — to be honest, you and Lee Donghyuck are even worse outside of school, and Yangyang only saw that some time ago when he started hanging out with your little squad, "Hyuck and I are best friends. That's just how we show our love for each other."

"You kissed, though," he looks away. Okay. Now, he's definitely jealous, but you just don't understand why he brought the whole thing up on your chill day, so you just shrugs it off. You sighed before explaining yourself, "You know me, Yangyang, as much as you know Hyuck. We never back out from anything — not even from a game — God, especially not from a game. Honestly, I don't even know why you're bothered, you know what I have with him and what I have with you."

"It happens everytime there's a party — honestly, I don't even remember a party where the two of you didn't make out," he pouts when you cut him off to say 'for a game', mumbling about how it doesn't change anything, "He still got to kiss you. Now I'm threatened."

"You? Threatened? Fine." you give up, leaning closer, "Kiss me then. If it makes you feel better, do it as much as you want."

The last thing you saw was the grin in his lips before he crashes them with yours, a giddy feeling bubbling up your stomach and you feel the burst of rain strengthen inside you, like a storm. You still can't comprehend if it's a good or bad one, making you feel all sorts of bubbly and melancholic as you're hit by the realization of how much you wanted to do this — even though you've kissed so many times before this one, it feels surreal and magical — maybe it was because his whispered 'I love you' or his hands tangling with yours instead of holding the small of your back that makes it feel so endearing, but either way, it feels so nice it almost hurt. The storm inside of you grows, and grows, and grows until you're worrying if he can feel it too. Maybe you want him to. Maybe you don't. Almost nothing is sure at the moment, and the only certain thing is the fact that you'll be holding onto him for a very, very long time and this kiss will be burned at the back of your head forever.

You smile into the kiss, thinking about how you loved sunshines, flower fields, mellow music and the scent of crisp grass. You loved so many things that you just can't figure out why you can't say the words 'I love' without wanting to say the boy's name. Even though you're still a little far away from confessing that, you know you're almost in a relationship and is almost getting there — as inconvenient as it sounds and seems, you're perfectly content with this. What's important is you're loyal to each other, is in love with each other and is meeting each other half way. You're getting there.

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itsmkjones · 7 years

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Imagine: Hiking with Sam.

Sam x Reader

Content: Fluff & Smutty beginnings

Request @har-rystyles: Hiiii! Hope you're well, I absolutely adore your work! Your way with words is just beautiful. If it's alright, could I request a Sam/Reader fic? Loads of fluff, with a large helping of smut on the side; perhaps where the reader is interested in photography? A walk through the woods with Sam and her camera, or small intimate moments where the reader cant help but capture every detail of Sam that she adores- take it wherever you want! Thank you Xx

Salt mingled in the cool morning breeze, drifting through the forest carrying the scent of the sea from the west. The relaxing psithurism soothed and excited your mind drawing unending waves of energy despite the early hour. As the crisp air kissed your cheeks you grinned unrestrained at the path before you as if the babble of the creek to your right spoke amusing tales to the canopy of new green above. Lingering snow in the pockets of shadows patched the browns of tree bark with bright white allowing the infantile shoots of grass and flowers to appear in the richest of greens. You paused on the path leaning back ten degrees to view the scene through the lens of your camera. You twisted the focusing ring to compensate for the wide landscape and clicked.

“Did you get a good shot?” Sam’s voice; as soft as the spongy soil below your boots, warm like the dancing rays of sunlight drifting through the leaves, and as clear as the brook following the path, asked.

He stood in stealth like silence behind you, body heat mingling between his chest and your back, his breath whispering over your neck. You smiled happily. His company on this adventure of yours enticed joy to well in your chest often provoking the question, “is it a sin to be this happy?”. You tipped the camera to view the picture preview, letting Sam look over your shoulder.

“I think so.” You glanced at him, watching as he studied the picture with considerate attention. “What do you think?”

His lips parted in a fleeting grin. “It’s good, real good.”

Your eyes flickered over the features of his face in rapt interest. Sam Winchester was an ever changing work of art. Emotion and expression twisted, toyed, and colored every inch of his face, whether it was the way his lips twitched in different levels of amusement or disappointment, or the way his brows knitted and smoothed with sympathy or realization- in those fleeting moments the essence of art was born. Perhaps, it was his features, so alike the pallet of the forest you loved.

“What?” Sam chuckled softly as he noticed your staring. “Do I have something on my face or something?”

You shook your head softly, a whimsical smile gracing your lips. “Just thinking…”

“Yeah?” You caught sight of a dimple as he grinned, eyes averted.

“Yeah.”

He scratched his jaw line just under his ear before readjusting his backpack. “So, what else do you wanna take pictures of? We still have time before we get to the top.”

You shrugged, “Whatever interests me.”

You took your time fiddling with the settings on your camera, allowing Sam to step ahead. He stopped taking a moment to look up the length of a Redwood tree. The wind sighed against his hair, tendrils of light caressing the lines of his face. Your heart slammed against your chest, breath stolen. Your camera lifted to your eye automatically. You clicked quickly, afraid to lose the moment. The camera captured the full body shot of Sam at trail’s edge. You zoomed in, trying to steady the excitement vibrating through your hands. Your finger pulled the setting to take multiple shots, then pressed down on the shutter button. Rapid clicks sounded from the camera capturing the scene. You glanced at the result.

The session showed a crystal clear image of Sam’s face bathed in the elfin light. Gold rays highlighted the length of his eyelashes, flushing the brilliance of his eyes to the surface. The color recorded was devastatingly breath taking. As you studied it you couldn’t breath nor tear your focus away. It was like staring into the brook: pale shades of river stone grey touched by flawless cerulean skies formed the backdrop for flecks of liquid amber and touches of new leaf green. As you clicked through the pictures his dark lashes lowered causing the colors of his eyes to deepen richly with every millisecond. The last few pictures were of his eyes completely closed, face luxuriously serene with pale pink lips barely parted.

“You comin’?” Sam startled you from your revere. Your head snapped, mind blank and faltering. “Y/n?”

“Yeah!” You laughed awkwardly to cover your embarrassment. “I’m right behind you!”

You trailed behind him snapping shots of the way light played in the trees and bounced off the stream, yet you always seemed to find Sam, naturally candid and strikingly beautiful. You captured images of him holding up a leaf, dipping his hands in the water, looking into the forest, and many more of him simply existing amongst nature. With every snap, you were unknowingly sucked deeper into determination, vying to record every fraction of Sam with greedy unwavering intent. It wasn’t until you reached the crest of the hill, where the forest opened to a clearing that you realized that you had forgone taking any purely nature oriented pictures. As Sam unpacked his backpack for an early lunch you forced yourself to take a few superficial and thoughtless photos of the area.

“Alright,” Sam shrugged, hands falling to slap his thighs, “All good to go, I guess.”

You flipped off the camera, capping the lens. Sam offered an adorably unsure expression as he glanced from the threadbare blanket spread out below a Pine tree to you. You lips curled as the sight warmed your chest. The spread was by no means fancy, consisting of a couple of pre-wrapped subs and two different kinds of canned soda.

“Aw, how cute!” You gushed plopping down on the blanket.

“Really?” He peered out from under his brows with reserved doubt. “You think this is cute?”

You unlooped the camera strap from your neck, rolling your head to your shoulder as relief flooded the weighted muscle. You set the camera down carefully on the edge of the blanket, then stretched across the blanket to snatch a sandwich. You smiled up at Sam earnestly.

“Of course!” Your brows came together in teasing confusion, “You brought a picnic… How is that not cute?”

Sam lowered to the blanket slowly, tongue pressed behind his teeth as he searched for words. “I don’t know… it’s not like I brought a home cooked meal and a bottle of champagne or something…”

You quirked an eyebrow, “First of all, simple can be cute. Secondly… can you even cook? Also, I hate champagne,”

He laughed softly, “Alright, alright. I guess, I just thought you’d expect more, is all.”

A hesitant vulnerability with a hint of guilt colored his features. The tender expression pulled at your heart driving affection to feel your gaze.

“Maybe I’m just easy going,” You replied with a soft shrug, “but a meatball sub can buy my love.”

“Fair enough,” His dimples reappeared as he grabbed his sandwich.

You emitted an exaggerated moaned as you bit into the sub. “God, this is good. A+ sandwich, Winchester.”

“You can thank Dean.” Sam grinned at your dramatic reaction before taking his first bite. “This is good.”

“I know…” You continued, mouth full, “The bread is still crispy and warm, and the cheese…” you moaned appreciatively, “so much cheese… so gooey…”

“Want some privacy there?”

You pouted. It lost some of its sting accompanied with puffy cheeks. Sam just shook his head with a laugh. Despite starting first, Sam polished off his food and cracked open a soda before you reached the halfway point in your sub. He pointed to your camera.

“Can I take a look?”

You shrugged automatically. He reached across the blanket, shirt pulling up his side as he stretched for the camera. A flash of tan skin caught your eye, the curve of his hip bone held it. The sight made your mind wander and you averted your gaze lost in thought. Suddenly, your brain snapped to reality. You scrambled to grab your camera first only to find Sam already sitting upright again and switching the power on.

“Wait!” You dropped the remainder or the sub to the side, bringing your feet under your knees to lean forward. “Don’t look yet!”

Sam’s face twisted into bemused confusion. “Why? You let me look before…”

You wavered, “Er, yeah, but…”

“What? Don’t tell me this is self-doubting artist type thing…” He nodded to the screen where the last picture you took appeared. “See, this is really good!”

Heat seeped under your collar rising up your neck bringing a nervous sweat to bead. “S-sam… it’s not that…”

“Then what?” He tilted his head finding your eyes with soft concern. He continued with an exhale, “But if you’re uncomfortable, then I won’t look.”

A blush bloomed over the bridge of your nose and swept across your cheeks. You closed your eyes and let out a long breath through pursed lips.

“I’m embarrassed, okay?” You peeked out at him to see him steadfastly watching you with sincere invested interest. The confession tumbled from your lips, unable to hide from his warm eyes. “I took some pictures of you.”

His brows twitched up in surprise. His face brightened, lips pulling back into beguiled flattery. “Really?”

You groaned, rocking back on your heels hiding your face in your hands. “Yes, okay? So, please give it back!”

“No!” Laughter shimmered in his voice. He pulled away as you reached for the camera. “I want to see.”

Your mouth fell open. “You’re seriously not going to give it back? I thought you were the nice one!”

“What?” His brows knitted together good naturedly. He blocked you with his elbow, fending off your grabbing. “Who says I’m the nice one?”

You shot him an exasperated look. “Literally everyone.”

“Well, considering you took my picture without asking, I think it’s fair that I get to look at them without permission.”

Words died on your tongue leaving you to gape in response. His eyebrow lifted in pointed victory before his gaze dropped to the display. You snatched your sub up, taking a rebelliously petulant bite in response. As he flipped through your pictures you eyed his back wearily. Minutes ticked by after you finished your meal, leaving you with nothing to occupy your time, forcing you to wait in building anguished anticipation. You tapped the expanse of metal atop the soda can with a fingernail. The metallic ting cut through the ambient birdsong. You inhaled sharply, spine straightening, when Sam lowered the camera. His expression was unusually indiscernible as he handed the device over. You held your breath as his tongue wet his lip.

“Not your usual stuff, but I can tell it’s still good.” He commented evenly taking a long laid-back, distinctly and annoying nonplussed sip of his drink.

You frowned. Alleviation and discontent thoughts waged a mental battle. Before your emotion could find resolve, your tongue pushed forth your incredulity, “That’s it?”

Sam lowered his soda meeting your skepticism with measured query. “What do you mean?”

“N-nothing!” You set the camera down, careful to keep it safe.

You sighed. Disappointment drifted below your gut and dry, hot emotion squeezed your heart. You heard Sam shift, but managed to keep your pre-planned pace steady instead of glancing his way. Your eyes dragged along the line of navy blanket. An excuse of natural optical movement repeated itself in your mind, but it was all too obvious you were avoiding Sam’s eyes. With a deep breath you lifted your gaze. A yelp caught in your throat, body jumping as you found Sam’s face inches away from yours. The corner of his lips twitched with a ghost of amusement, as if your surprise pleased a hidden patch of sadism. You scowled playfully. The glare vanished when his smile deepened allowing dimples to pinch his cheeks.

“So, why were you taking pictures of me?” Those fascinating eyes kept you pin to the spot. Your gaze darted between them, studying the color. They appeared slightly different in the shade of the tree and so close. Copper hues bloomed from the iris, shading between tones of brown and gold, behind lay the clearest of blues- the type of blue that could only be found in the the purest of flawless skies and virgin pools of water- jade bridged the amber to azul. A burning in your lungs alerted to reality. You exhaled a shuddering breath that caused the tips of his hair to flutter. Sam smirked.

“You’ve got pretty eyes!” You snapped defensively.

His head tilted slightly, eyelashes clicking lower hooding his gaze, bringing the browns to prominence. His gaze found your lips and for a heartbeat you could imagine his lips touching yours. “Just because of my eyes, huh?”

“Well,” You pulled back a fraction before you could lean forward. “Maybe…” He moved forward, chin tilting up, angling to catch your lips from his lower angle. “You’re distracting…”

His gaze flicked up to yours with a charming adoring smile, before falling to your lips again. His hand came to your cheek, fingertips brushing the hairline under your ear as his lips pressed into yours. You gasped at the tender warmth. A tingle like a burning feather sweeping over your heart elicited an achingly frail emotion to surface. His mouth sealed against yours in a soft deliberate reconnoitre; exploring, savoring. His fingers curled behind your neck, thumb caressing your cheek. You gasped for air as he broke away. His nose brushed against yours. You struggled to catch your breath as he waited, gauging your reaction.

“Y/n…” His husky voice retained a breathlessness.

“Sam…” You exhaled. Your vision seemed hazy as you gazed at his beautiful face, brain swimming in euphoria. “Do that again.”

He smiled, chin ducking to chuckle shyly. You touched his cheek, mirroring the gesture he was still doing, but you raked your fingers through his hair at his temple gently, sweeping through his hair, clutching his head as you moved forward to catch his lips. He leaned back, laying against the blanket as you slid beside him. You brushed back his hair, teasing and stroking his lips with a meticulous kiss. His hand slid up your spine, diving into your hair gingerly. The hand on your cheek cupped your chin. When the second kiss broke, you gaze at Sam below you with a sweet smile. He studied your face leisurely, knuckles trailing over your lips before skimming the side of your face and sliding over your brow and into your hair. A painfully fragile smile touched his lips.

“You have gorgeous eyes.” His thumb rubbed the line of your cheekbone.

Your head snapped back in surprise, “Have you seen your eyes?”

A deep chuckle vibrated in his chest, “I prefer yours.”

A tide of heat gushed against your heart. The muscle stuttering in your chest. “Damn Winchester…” A heavy breath rushed from your lungs. “That’s some line.”

Affection tinged his gaze. In an effortless movement, he rolled to his side sweeping you to your back. He pushed back a strand of hair with a callused finger, framing your face with the side of his hand as if to garner an unrestricted view of your visage. He dropped a lingering chaste kiss to your lips.

“It’s true.” He admitted. “You have the most expressive eyes…”

Your eyebrow raised accordingly. He kissed your cheek before you could respond. A blush rose under his unwavering attention despite your wavering efforts to remain calm.

“I love the way the light up when you see something you like…” He kissed your temple eliciting a delicious vibration of butterflies to flutter from your chest through your stomach and into your knees. “I love the way you get lost in your photography, losing sight in everything, but what’s on the other side of the camera.”

He kissed a tender spot beneath your ear that made you squirm. His brows lifted at the discovery, a satisfied smile following. He found your lips, his kisses still gradual and passive. You slipped behind his head, deepening the kiss. His body sank, chest flushing against your side. Seeking a new angle, he turned his head. Your teeth clashed together igniting a primal urgent need. A sudden powerful lust slammed against your core. Your fingers tightened in his hair, back arching instinctively to find his. Your mouths moved together greedily, desperation thriving with every touch. You pulled at Sam’s shirt urging him closer, vying for closeness. His hands clutched the sides of your head, holding you still as he responded in turn. His tongue slipped between your lips, the tip massaging and enticing the nerves of your tongue with practiced control, swallowing the heady moans his ministrations earned. Your hands skipped down his body, finger hooking in his belt loops. In frenzied thoughtlessness, you yanked his hips forward. You could feel his muscles tighten down his body. He paused for a beat, as his hips tilted against you, grinding against your side. A primal groan rumbled in his throat, ending his lapse of movement.

You gasped as he found the sensitive spot on your neck. Hands digging into his shoulders, you arched into him. His kisses became fervent, breaking form your lips to suck a trail down your throat and along your collarbone as he pushed the collar of your shirt lower. His hand, warm and rough, pushed up your torso finding intent in cupping over your chest. He massaged, thumb slipping below the material to toy with the hardening nub. He lowered, mouth parted in purpose. You tugged at his shirt and he paused his goal to wrestle away the material revealing the length of his toned tanned arms. You watched in fascination as he grabbed the back of his shirt’s neckline and pulled it forward. His naked torso wasn’t foreign to you, but knowing it had been revealed for your gaze and touch had a breath catch in your throat. You reached out tracing the lines of his muscles, idly following the path where twin lines disappeared beneath his jeans. He gasped holding back a small shudder when your finger dipped below the fabric teasingly.

His tongue passed over his lips, tender eyes fixated with smoldering captivation on your body as he encircled his hands about your waist and pushed up your shirt. His gaze flicked between the slow reveal of your body and the exposure of emotion in your expression. As you sat up to allow the final emancipation of the fabric, He quickly unfastened your bra, dragging his fingers over your shoulders and down your arms to expedite the divest. The articles littered the blanket in disregard as you dove together again. He grabbed your thighs, sliding his grip under your ass before yanking you from repose to straddling his lap. He kissed you hard sending your mind reeling and body aching with anticipation. Your head fell back in need of air. He spared no moment, ducking his head to seek the sensitive skin along your neck, kissing lower hands supporting your back. His mouth found the peak of your breast. His tongue flicked the nerves, evoking a gasp of pleasure, your fingers flying into his hair pulling gently as you arched your back, breasts pressing against the heat of his mouth. He moved a hand away, thumb skimming along the inside of your thigh.

“A-ah, wait!” You interrupt on a groan.

“What?” Sam pulled back quickly alarm in his voice, concern trading lust. He searched your face, “What?”

You breathed out an amused chuckle at his considerate reaction. “Protection?”

Realization widened his eyes. “Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that.” You smiled. “Unless you have that, then maybe we should stop.”

His head rolled back with a groan of disappointment. The candid reaction was unusually childish for the serious Sam you knew and you couldn’t help, but giggle at this unseen side.

“I have a condom in my wallet, but it’s probably unsafe.” He admitted reluctantly.

You slid from his lap detangling your bra from the pile of clothes. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Yeah,” He shot you a dazzling sheepish smile, “Sorry.”

You grinned pressing a quick kiss against his lips. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your clothes fell in place just as a group of teenagers broke from the trail into the clearing. You exchanged a guilty look with Sam before laughing at the timing. You laid back on the blanket, head resting next to Sam’s holding your camera precariously over your faces as you clicked through the pictures, explaining excitedly about your favorite aspects in each photo or what your attempted intentions were. When you finished he grabbed the camera and held it awkwardly at arms length, shaking slightly with the weight, and snapped of photo of you together.

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