#im not exactly a photographer so this is the best shoot i can get | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notnctu · 4 years

Text

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.”

3K notes · View notes

sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Text

~ 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ~

Part III

All picture rights to their respective owners.

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥: Photographer!Hyunjin x fem!model!reader, manager!Bangchan, stylist!Jisung, agedup!straykids, SMUT, fluff, character driven story, stranger to lovers, summer!au, soft!dom hyunjin x fem!reader, PIV, penetrative sex, protected sex (wow first time writing that, good on ya cher) sexual photos/pictures taken during sex, semi-public sex, orgasm (m/f), cum, fingering, blowjob, light choking, praise kink, handkink??

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 5.4 k

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: am so creative with the office numbers? right? tell me im creative LMAO

oh god this was a fucking pain in the ass to read through i cringed at every sentence so hopefully my pain will be your pleasure

Taking pictures of you - MASTERLIST

ONE｜TWO｜THREE

Unlike any other day you couldn’t get out of bed. A boulder of nervousness plaguing you. Through the cracks of the blinds the sun shined in, small particles of dust floating around your resting figure. You were wide awake yet you felt asleep, your thoughts consuming your mind as the dimly lit room became brighter as time ticked on.

You were thinking, perhaps overthinking. This whole situation with Hyunjin seemed confusing and happened way to fast, your psyche not having a moment to digest the events that unfolded during the last couple of days.

Love was a feeling you were familiar with. You knew how it felt. Those butterflies in ones stomach, fluttering everytime a thought of the person passes through your ones.

You felt the same feeling everytime you thought of Hyunjin.

How his soft lips would feel against your cheek that was hot from just looking at his beauty. How his blond hair falls in his face everytime he puts it into a ponytail, his silver decorated fingers tucking the stray pieces behind his pierced ear. These thoughts alone would make your heart beat faster than ever, you eyes clouding with lust even if you knew that this relationship would be impossible given the status the both of you have in this judging industry.

Pushing the covers aside, you sat up before slowly stepping out, your feet hitting the cold flooring of the apartment. You stretched your arms upwards, feeling your spine extend as you squinted, a ray of sunshine hitting you right in the eyes.

The boulder in your chest didn’t feel any lighter but you still got up, wanting time to fly by fast just so you could see his face once again.

♡

No amount of mindfulness exercises could calm the churning of your stomach. The clock in your living room ticked as you watched it with careful eyes, waiting for the time to hit precisely half past before you got up from the couch and shuffled over to the wardrobe, only being stopped from a pling on your phone.

[Bangchan] y/n! can you come by in about an hour? need to discuss some concept photos, sorry for such short notice ❤️

That’s when it hit you. Bangchan didn’t know anything about this. He didn’t know that you’d seen the photos from the shoot and most importantly that you went on a date with the photographer. You could only describe the feeling as ‘improper’. Bangchan was after all one of the closest people in your life, he made you to who you are today and lying to him felt wrong but you shielded your eyes from the truth as you typed back.

[y/n] soz, got plans

[Bangchan] I don’t see any other meeting scheduled for today?

[y/n] you do know that I have a life outside of work? take the day off Chan, you could use some rest ❤️

[Bangchan] Don’t worry about me! You have fun alright?

[y/n] alright, see you next week then ^^

You clicked on the off button on your phone, making the text messages disappear. Getting paranoid, you plopped down on the couch, thinking about every possible way you could get caught which you’d already been, photos of you and Hyunjin circulating throughout social media but they mustn’t have reached Bangchan just yet. You felt like digging a hole underground, wanting to hide away from all these thoughts. The main thought in your mind was whether or not you understood Hyunjin’s intentions.

What if this love was one sided?

Waveing your hand in the air, you attempted to get the mind out of your head as if you were breaking up a cloud of real thoughts. You glanced up at the clock and only then realised that you were running late, as usual.

“Wear whatever you want”

Was what Hyunjin said last time but that didn’t make it easier to choose an outfit. Standing infront of multiple racks of clothing you pulled up the weather application on your phone. “Sunny” you mumbled, making you gravitate towards a beige croptop with white stripes around the neckline as well as a white tennis skirt. Not too dressed up but not too dressed down either, just right. Clothes were flying everywhere when you searched for a pair of white socks to pair with your white high platform sneakers. You put the outfit on, observing yourself in the mirror and smiling, trying to get yourself in a better mood rather than being a nervous wreck. Pulling up your phone, you snapped a picture and sent it to the person who knew best about fashion. Jisung.

[y/n] Sungie! Is this acceptable for a impromptu photoshoot?

The fashionable boy replied minutes later.

[Jisung] oh!! that’s so cute! very much acceptable in my book 🥺

You smiled at his reply

[y/n] phew! good...

[Jisung] is it a date?

Your fingers froze above the keyboard on the phone. Was it that noticeable? Was this really a date?

[y/n] no!!!

[Jisung] you sure, i saw those photos on social media. ahh.. y/n dating famous photographers now...

By this point you were sweating bullets.

[y/n] first of all, i’m not meeting him and second of all, he’s a friend so shut it.

[Jisung] hahah alright alright... i won’t tell Bangchan

[y/n] you have nothing to tell!! we’re friends just like you and I so be quiet otherwise i’ll come over there with balloons, popping them in your face.

[Jisung] oh wow... im so scared...

[y/n] need to leave, if i hear something about you spreading some rumors i’ll seriously do it.

[Jisung] Photo Attachment.

The photo that popped up was from yesterday and your breath hitched. You couldn’t help but to notice the way Hyunjin was looking at you, his eyes filled what seemed like adoration.

[Jisung] yeah because that totally doesn’t look like a date

[y/n] DON’T TELL BANGCHAN PLEASE

[Jisung] oh so it is a date? alright, i won’t! have fun and be safe

[y/n] be safe? we’re taking pictures, not drag racing

[Jisung] hahah stop playing innocent

Your eyes widened in realisation.

[y/n] you crazy fucker

[y/n] I WILL DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE WARDROBE IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP I DON’T SLEEP ON THE FIRST DATE

[Jisung] Whatever you say

Thanks to Jisung you were now running dangerously late leading to you snatching objects from all corners of the apartment before ordering a cab that would arrive in minutes.

♡

“We’ve arrived, miss” the cab driver says, smiling at you through the rear-view mirror. You thank him and step out of the yellow car, a smell of car exhaust hitting your nose. The cab drives away, leaving nothing but a small cloud of smoke. You looked up, almost not seeing the tip of the building as the skyscraper towered over you. You’re beside the busy road, mouth agape. You’d walked by a couple of times but knowing that you knew the person that owned at least a bit of the building made you giddy.

You walked in and was greeted by a grand lobby, a front desk as big as the wall behind it. The entire place was filled with people, everyone from business men in suits to trainee models in the most flamboyant outfits. Fishnet stockings, heavy chains and distressed jeans that consisted of more air then jeans material. The sun shined through the many glass panes that made up most of the ceiling and the slight breeze of the air conditioner made this whole vibe of the building comforting.

“Hi! y/n y/l/n, meeting Hwang Hyunjin” you say to the receptionist that was a relatively old woman, probably in her early 60′s. She was wearing a white button down shirt with her hair in a high bun, a couple of gray strands sticking out. Her red painted mouth contorted into a smile.

“y/n, Hyunjin said that you could make your way to his office without the guards. You must be a close friend”

You smiled shyly with your warm cheeks, looking at either side of the desk where two tall buff men were standing, wearing walkie talkies on their black vests. With a small nod, you started speaking.

“W-where exactly is his office?”

“Floor 20, his main office is in room 03″

“Thank you!”

You quickly shuffled over to the elevators, pushing the button that lit up with orange light emitting.

PLING

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped inside, a couple of office workers joining you and pressing the necessary buttons to make the elevator lift off.

You step out at the 20th floor, looking around at all the intricate wall design, everything inspired by ancient greece which explains the broken vases that were scattered across the hallway in the most unconventional places. They were all encapsulated with glass and standing on tall white pillars, the vases looking rather sad, being in a spectra of ashy grey colors, every single one of them falling apart.

Stopping, you observed this one vase that caught your attention. It had swirly details around the edge and was shattered in a rather beautiful way. It made you think how even the most broken pieces still carry beauty, beauty unique to only oneself.

“It’s pretty right?”

The voice sounded familiar and warm, almost as if it had anticipated your arrival.

“y-yeah, it really is”

You say turning around, nearly jumping up on the wall when seeing the figure that looked back at you. It was Hyunjin.

Yet again, his presence was astonishing. Everytime you met him it felt as if you’d met him for the first time. The blond boy was standing tall in front of you, wearing a black hoodie, black basketball shorts and a matching headband. A backpack was thrown across his one shoulder and a smaller camera around his neck, everything about his appearence looking completely different from the last time you saw him, his style usually more sophisticated.

“On your way to meet me, yeah?” he asked and you nodded shyly.

“My office is the other way, you know?”

You lifted your gaze to look at the tiny sign on the wall that pointed in two directions, you were walking down the hallway for offices 20-40 by accident and you smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head.

“I didn’t know heh...”

“It’s alright! Come with me, I was on my way to the studio”

“What room is that? Your office?”

“No, the room next to my office, come! I’ll show you!”

He grabbed your hand and you felt your body stiffen as he dragged you down the hallway, his hand not being decorated with statement rings this time, instead feeling soft and warm. You blanked out, your legs walking by themselves.

He stopped at a brown door, a tiny gold sign saying « 04 » and beside it a transparent sign stating that this was a photography studio. Hyunjin opened the door and dragged you in, closing the door behind you.

A cold wind hit your warm body, the air conditioner blasting it’s breeze with a faint sound. The room was wide, one wall being made completely out of glass, stand close enough and you could peer down the bustling city filled with people, cars and buildings. The typical photoshoot setup was already in place, the camera being propped up infront of a white backdrop, a white pilar in the middle and two boxlights standing unlit behind the camera. In the corner stood a vintage brown leather couch, the swirly metal details were concealed with a layer of chipped gold paint. Beside the couch stood a simple white table. A black bucket rested on the floor and upon closer inspection you noticed plants, multiple stems of eucalyptus poking out, wrapped in cellophane.

“What are these for?”

You sat down on your knees infront of the bucket while Hyunjin was pressing buttons on the camera that was screwed onto the tripod before walking over to the table and placing down the camera he had around his neck, his backpack lying lazily on the floor. He looked at your crouching figure, the corners of his lips going upwards.

“I thought they’d suit you”

You held in one of the stems, turning your head and looking at his shy smile, his dimples sitting playfully on the sides of his cheeks. You giggle, standing up and leaning against the white pillar, holding the plant in your both hands.

“Do they?”

Hyunjin walked towards the steadied camera, bending down and peeking through the lens.

“They do”

click

Your eyes widen, him snapping a picture without you paying attention.

“Hey! I wasn’t even prepared!” you chuckle, pointing at the blonde boy with the long plant that was dripping at the stem.

“Nature is a bit more beautiful when caught off guard, don’t you think?” Hyunjin says, his honey-like voice, echoing through the room.

You nod, staring down at the leafs of the plant, rubbing them between your thumb and pointer finger.

click

“Try leaning with your butt against the pillar and with one foot fully on the side of the pillar”

You did as he told, the pillar being surprisingly stable.

“Tilt your head and look down to the right”

Once again, you follow his instruction and he hums in satisfaction before pushing the button on the camera twice.

click

Your warm face turned into a smile, laughing loudly from embarrassment when he observed the pictures on his display. He snickers quietly from shyness, a faint blush brushing across his features as his brown eyes were glued to the screen. Hyunjin peeks up from the camera, seeing you looking down at the backdrop that was filled with ashy grey shoeprints.

The sound of his footsteps got closer until you saw them in your periferal view causing you to look up at his tentative face. He smiles, displaying his pearly white teeth and crescent shaped eyes before stretching his hand out, feather light fingertips grazing your hot cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, your dainty gold earrings now visible. Hyunjin’s hand lingers on your jaw as he looks at you with a gleam in his eyes, you gulping loudly as your gaze lowers to his pouty pink lips. Leaning forward, Hyunjin tilts his head, attaching his lips onto yours, your heart skipping a beat from the comforting feeling of having him close to you.

You drop the fragile twig on the floor, kissing him back by pursing your lips and tilting your head as well. The romantic tension that has been bubbling on the surface everytime you met had finally subsided, now the air overflowed sexual tension.

Cupping his blushed cheeks, you deepen the kiss my licking his plump bottom lip, coaxing his tongue that eventually slipped into your mouth. His hands were firmly planted on your waist, pulling you closer to his body that radiated heat in the already scorching summer weather.

The two tongues danced around in a impatient manner, the two of you dreaming of this moment since meeting. Hyunjin’s hands roamed over all the valleys of your body, placing his hands on the bottom of your butt, pulling you even closer, close enough to feel his semi-erection against your abdomen. Your eyes spring open in realisation, your body melting in his arms as you felt the effects of the deep kiss, the effects being you unable to control the wet patch that was forming on your underwear, nothing but the thin fabric seperating it from the air due to you wearing a skirt.

Pulling away from the kiss, your hot breath and a line of saliva was the only thing that seperated you and Hyunjin. You shielded your face from his twinkling eyes, you glancing at the blonde boy through the gaps between your fingers. His two hands grip your wrists, pulling your hands down as he smiles widely

“Don’t hide that pretty face”

Hyunjin giggles, your chuckles following shortly after. The boy grips your wrist tightly, walking backwards as he looks intensely into your eyes, his back falling against the couch as you sit down on the couch on your knees, he looks at you for a moment before attaching his lips again, pushing you down and hovering above you. The wet sounds of the sloppy kiss fills your ear, you helplessly rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. His fingertips trailed down your chest, tracing small circles on the inside of your thigh before plunging down under your skirt, grazing the wet spot on your underwear. The both of you smile into the kiss.

“Can I?” Hyunjin says, momentarily pulling away from your sweet lips and tugging on the edge of your panties. You nod shyly, not believing that this is happening.

His lanky fingers run up and down your wet folds as you put your hand at the back of his neck, pulling his blushing face closer to yours and pursing your lips to kiss him sensually. Hyunjin’s fingers gently brush up against your clit that was swollen from excitement, sending shivers down your spine.

You knew this was wrong, the door wasn’t even locked meaning that anyone could walk in at any moment but the way lips felt on yours made a thousand fireworks ignite, sparking from your chest. Wrapping your hand around his wide wrist, you guide his fingers down to your sopping entrace, your entire body craving him inside of you.

Hyunjin places once last peck on your soft lips before looking at you with concern, asking for permission with his fluffy brown eyes. You nod, your eyelashes gently fluttering over your eyes. His middle finger slips into you with ease, shortly followed by a second finger from seeing how good your cunt swallowed his digits, your essence coating them. A faint gasp escapes your lips as his fingers felt around your velvety walls, the whole situation still feeling like a dream.

“D-does it feel good?”

“mhm!” you hum, nodding your head as your grasp around his wrist tightens everytime he curls his fingers upwards. Small whimpers came from you as his fingers started pumping in and out, the blond boy chuckling at your reaction.

“Did you think I was innocent?”

The question lingers in the air as you look at him in the eyes.

“Y-yes,,,” just as the question you let the answer hang in the air as Hyunjin hummed, being knuckles deep into you and curling his fingers upwards once more, making you choke on your own moan. Hyunjin nodded slowly, glancing down at your body as he thought.

“It’s because,,, because you’re shy,, different from the others.” You added quickly, filling the silence that was soon interupted by your whimpers as the so called ‘innocent boy’ started circling your sensitive bud with his thumb.

“I think you’re different from the others, you make me like this baby”

Hyunjin said, seconds later crashing his lips against yours, his tongue attacking yours. He retracted his fingers, the tips coated in your juices and glistening in the sunlight. You whined inbetween kisses, the feeling of being empty leaving you disappointed. Hyunjin’s veiny hands trailed up your stomach, pulling the croptop up and resting it just above your boobs, your white bra exposed.

Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss, the both of you breathless as the kisses you exchanged were anything but light. His two damp fingers made their way to his mouth, licking them with a slight smirk on his lips. You could go crazy from the sight alone, his big brown eyes turning blank with lust. Not being able to control yourself any longer, you sat up on your knees and pulled off the top, unclasping your bra while you’re at it. As the fabric hit the floor, Hyunjin’s eyes darted to your bare tits, the wind from the air conditioner stiffening your two sensitive buds. You looked at him with a jumbled expression, him staring at your nipples for what seemed like an eternity. You hummed softly, causing him to snap back into reality, the blond boy pulling the black hoodie up from his head, displaying the defined muscles on his abdomen. You wanted him, you wanted him so bad.

Your knees hit the floor with a thump as looked up at Hyunjin, knealing between his two legs and watching the tent in his loose shorts grow.

“Do you really want to do this,, y/n,, you don’t have t-”

You hushed before speaking.

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin” you say with a stern voice making Hyunjin shiver, not knowing if it’s from your tone of voice or the way his name rolled of your tongue.

The blonde boy grabbed the small camera that was resting on the table, you looked up at him with confusion before smiling at his pleading eyes that met yours. You nodded, knowing exactly what he wanted to do and giving him permission since you never knew if he’d get to see you like this ever again.

You hook your two hands on the sides of his shorts and underwear, pulling the fabric down as Hyunjin awkwardly lifts his hips up from the couch for a moment, allowing you to slide the both garments down in one nimble motion. His veiny length sprung out, the tip hitting his abdomen for a moment before resting infront of your eyes, a bead of precum already leaking from his delicate slit. You gulp, the task of sucking him off suddenly seeming daunting. Hyunjin must have noticed since his face turned concerned, a half smile flashing across his lips.

“y/n,, you don’t have to-aghh!”

Hyunjin was cut of by his own breathy moan, your pursed lips wrapping around his leaking tip, licking small kitten licks before sinking deeper down his impressive length. Hyunjin’s blonde hair fell out of his face when his head rolled back in pleasure, resting it against the back of the rustic couch.

“f-fuck y/n,,, just- just like that”

He hummed out, his sweet voice intoxicated with desire. Your tongue swirled around his pretty red tip, simultaneously stroking the part doesn’t fit inside of your wet mouth. Multiple shutters of the camera was heard, his hand barely stable enough to hold it due to the pleasure that was shooting through his core. It didn’t take long before his dick twitched against you lips, your cheeks hollowed as bob up and down his girth. His eyes rolled back into his skull as his hand went down to cup your cheek, your eyes stinging with tears as you choked around him. Pulling off with a pop, his dick glimmered as a heavy layer of saliva rested on it, his already warm body turning hotter. He looks down at you, a smug half-smile errupting on his lips as he continued to stroke your cheek, his thumb grazing your cheekbone as he flicked through the photos on his camera, the half-smile now a full on expression of happiness. The two of you sat like that for a while, the silence engulfing the room as you observed his indescribable features. His sharp jawline contrasted with his soft skin that had a dust of rose pink across the cheeks, his moles adding to his charm.

“Fuck me, Hyunjin”

The words slipped out of your mouth, his brown shiny eyes widening before being overtaken by a blank gaze, placing the silver camera back on the tiny table.

“You thought I would stop here?”

Now it was your turn to be flustered, his sugary sweet voice interlaced with the cocky words making you even wetter then before, if that’s even possible. Without answering, he pulled you up to the couch by your hand and laying you down before realising what he forgot. The blond boy reached for the baggy backpack laying on the white floor, unzipping the front pocket and fishing out a condom. You nodded shyly, feeling your hands getting sweatier from nervousness, not really sure where to put them. Hyunjin noticed your gaze that was running all over the room, your body slightly tense. The boy snickered, ripping the shiny wrapping open with his hands where veins had started to become apparent.

“Something wrong?” He asks shyly, placing the condom on his leaking tip before rolling the rubber onto his length. You shake your head.

“J-just thinking,,,” you say, your voice fading out at the end.

“About?” His voice inhibiting a questionable tone as he holds himself up above you, his elbows on either side of your head.

“A-about,,, you”

That was a lie. You thought about how this would end up being disclosed to your company and your friends, Felix would snap your head if he found out that you slept with Hyunjin. Did it even have to be disclosed? Couldn’t it just be a secret between you and Hyunjin? As much as you wish that it could, it simply couldn’t. Not working in this industry.

Hyunjin smiled softly, his hand trailing down the curves of your body before lifting up the fabric of your skirt, his fingers pushing your panties aside and feeling your throbbing pussy once again. His caramel eyes looked into you the entire time.

Lifting himself up, he positioned the tip of his member at your sopping entrance, you chuckling softly as he gripped your hips but your chuckle was quickly replaced by a loud gasp, his dick stretching out your tight pussy better than you thought.

“Are you ok, y/n?”

He said softly, his dick not even halfway in but already jerking from your welcomingly wet and warm cunt wrapping around his crimson tip. You nodded, looking up at him.

“Pl-please,, keep going Hyunjin”

The blonde boy blushed, his ears turning red. Tightening the grip on your hips he fully entered you, you shutting your eyes tightly from the slightly painful but pleasurable experience. Glancing down at you, he had to use every bit of discipline to not pound into you. In his eyes you looked angelic. Your parted lips that we’re coated by saliva and the way your skirt bunched up around your waist made it feel like torture to be inside of you, not moving to let you adjust to his size.

“C-can I move?” He asks impatiently to which you smile, nodding and wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer to your warm body. Your breath hitched as he softly wraps his hand around your neck, him thinking he’d gone too far.

“I-im sorry! I-”

You hush him, placing your index finger over his plush pink lips.

“I’ll tell you if anything doesn’t feel good, alright?” You so desperatly wanted to place a “baby” at the end of the sentence, that nickname fitted him but being to scared to confess your feelings. Just because he wants you doesnt mean he loves you. Hyunjin nodded like an excited puppy, finally getting the permission of moving and feeling your clenched walls around his length, his one hand still wrapped around your throat.

His thrusts were slow, filled with passion which only worsened your longing for him, the longing of him being yours. Small whimpers dripped from between your parted lips, the moans being mixed with Hyunjin’s low grunts and sounding like a melody. You peeked up at the model-like boy, his expression being synonymous to pleasure. The movements eventually quickened, his long cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, making you put your hands behind his back, your fingernails digging into his soft honey skin. His previously closed eyes fluttered open, watching you with a soft gaze through his fierce eyes. You smiled and he smiled back before his gaze drifted away from yours.

“Y-you feel so good y-y/n,,, you’re an angel”

Chuckling and moaning at the same time, his praise gave you a sense of security but also a sense of lust, wanting to coax out even more dangerously sweet words from his pretty mouth.

“Go faster,,, Hyunjin”

You gasped out, the pleasure starting to pick up it’s pace. The sound of skin slapping against each other bounced off the white walls in the big studio, the old sofa creaking ever so often from the blond boys powerful thrusts. Hyunjin would never get tired of hearing you say his name, never.

The knot in your stomach signaled your impending orgasm as your walls were stretched out. You pleaded him to not stop, your voice sounding frail as you neared your sweet release. The hot tempeture wasn’t helping the situation, sweat beading underneath Hyunjins headband, soaking the two strands of blonde locks that hanged infront of his face.

“F-fuck,, y/n you’re so pretty with my hands wrapped around your throat, fuck-”

A loud groan escaped his lips, the pleasure of your wet pussy against his rock-hard length getting too much, Hyunjin having to hold back until you came, not wanting to appear selfish. It wasn’t long until you felt your legs shaking around him, your toes curling as the squeaky sound from the couch increased along with the speed of Hyunjin’s thrusts, the rubber not giving him as much intimacy as he would have liked but the visual of you lying beneath him, squirming away from bliss and softly moaning made up for it.

“I think- i think I’m cumming, s-shit Hyunjin, I’m cumming”

The words spilled from you, quickly followed by a incoherent mumbling of his name before a wave of hot flashed through your entire body, your walls clenching around him as your erotic juices coated his twitching cock. You held your hands against your face that was lightly coated with sweat but before you could come down from your high Hyunjin pinned your hands above your head by your wrists, him letting out a growl before his cum filled the tip of the condom. The both of you rode out your powerful orgasm, your moans softening as the intense feeling subsided, Hyunjin shivering with his last thrust before pulling out.

The light sound of the air conditioner was now accompanied with heavy panting, your chest heaving as Hyunjin softly pulled down your skirt and ran his hand through his blonde hair, pushing the stray hairs away before rolling off the cumfilled condom and throwing it on the floor, the rubber landing on the dark clothing that were pooling next to the leather couch. The young boy lays down beside you, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you faded away in a million thoughts, still trying to process what just happened. You turned your head against his, feeling his lingering gaze on your face and you swore you could hear your heart beat in your ears as his cheekbones lifted, his now cherry red lips turning into a soft smile.

“Do you like me?”

You choked on your own saliva, coughing and sitting up in panic making Hyunjin worry, him patting you on the back as he sat up next to you.

“I-im sorry,, I shouldn’t have- y/n,, so-sorry”

He mutters out as you start laughing, he looking confused at your chuckling figure.

“T-that’s,,, quite the direct question” you say, clearing your throat before continuing. “I don’t know Hyunjin. You know that this isn’t possible”

You saw his previously twinkling eyes turn blank, his heart sinking.

“Uhm,,, n-no totally not,,, I just said it to-”

He tried to play cool, brushing off the fact that he didn’t get the answer he so longed for. His gaze turning away from your angelic face.

“But I like you”

You spoke quietly, your voice cracking at the end. Hyunjin turned back to you.

“Why wouldn’t it work then?” he asked with a confused voice. You sighed

“Hyunjin, do you not know who you are? We fucked in a building where you own half of the rights, you work with famous people and your work is in every magazine, don’t you understand?”

He stayed silent for a while, comtemplating on what to say before grabbing your clammy hand.

“Do you only see me for my career?”

You shake your head, trying to catch eye contact with the blonde boy but failing as he stares down at your small hand in his grasp.

“Hyunjin, I love you but this feels way to quick,,, I can’t just-”

“I’ve known about you for a while, y/n. Do you know why we even worked together in the first place?”

Hyunjin speaks calmly, a thin string of sadness threading through his voice. You shake your head, looking at him but he looking away.

“I reached out to Bangchan first”

You weren’t surprised, only confused. What did he see in you?

“I know it might seem,, rushed! But if- if we both like each other then we can make it work. Please don’t worry about our reputations, you are more than your career y/n even if it means the world to you.”

Hyunjin hesitated finishing his sentence, feeling sick to his stomach from the fear of rejection. You withdrew your hand, instead opening your arms and hugging him to which he smiled and hugged you back, the both of you falling back on the couch facing each other.

“I think I love you,,, like,,, I really love you”

Hyunjin brushed away a strand of hair from your face, his tender eyes meeting yours.

“And I love you too, y/n”

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

@vogueinnie @that-anxious-bisexual @putmetogetheragain13 @hyunsluvv @lawleighette @meow-minho @minaamhh @ohmysparkle @hwangi @rindomo @fleeingreality @nycol-ie @jisungsplatforms @p0t4t0don14ll @skzstanlol

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seijorhi · 4 years

Note

hello, im always on the hunt for new funky fresh yandere!suga content! i really enjoyed the post you made for him, it's exactly up my alley! would it be possible to request a gender neutral reader finding out just how much suga's been stalking them after they left him? by stumbling on something they shouldnt see (could be a dark room, or a journal, whatever youd like) and have him walk in on them then?

Suga will always be my first Haikyuu love, so of course!

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

TW stalking

Red Handed

When you were a little kid, your mom told you a story.

It was about a handsome man with a blue beard, the woman who married him despite the warning signs, and a locked cellar that was never supposed to be opened. You were too young to hear it, but as horrifying as it was - it stuck with you.

Curiosity can be a dangerous thing.

But sometimes… sometimes you just can’t help yourself.

In your defence it wasn’t so much a wilful breaking of trust so much as it was an honest mistake. Sort of.

It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself pouring over textbooks and hastily scrawled notes with Suga, but it is the first time it’s been just the two of you - and the first time it’s been at his place instead of yours.

“I give up,” you moan, letting your head fall flat against your notebook. “I’m gonna fail this stupid exam, drop out of school and have to resort to finding some rich, attractive guy to marry and support me instead.”

You’ve been at it for hours, the two of you spread out on his couch, a mountain of snacks between the two of you. You have to give Suga credit for that - the man knows how to keep you motivated to stay but this, this was beyond your limit. It’s never a good sign when you reread the same sentence five times and still have no idea what it says.

A soft laugh sounds and there’s a hand rubbing soothingly at your back, “Aw c’mon, don’t be so dramatic. You got me, right?”

You lift your head slightly to find him smiling at you with that same fond exasperation, and almost without meaning to you find your frown softening. It’s true. Suga’s pretty much your lifeline at this point - not to mention the reason you’re actually doing pretty well in most of your classes this semester.

God only knew where he found the patience.

“What, you gonna marry me when they kick me out in disgrace?” you ask with a wry half grin, pushing yourself away from your notes. “Take care of my freeloading ass?”

Suga doesn’t say anything for a moment. You brace yourself for the lecture and/or pep-talk he’s given you a thousand and one times before, but when you glance up at him again, the look on his face isn’t the one you’re expecting.

He’s still smiling, but there’s something… odd about it.

It’s just a flash, a flicker of something fleeting in his eyes-

You blink, and whatever it is- was - it’s gone and Suga’s looking at you with the same expression he always wears whenever you start bemoaning your future and the possibility of failing.

Huh… your eyebrows draw together, the faintest hint of unease teasing at your gut. Just for a moment - a split second - you could have sworn that…

But no, you’re just tired. Your brain is absolutely fried after hours studying, whatever you thought you saw, you must have imagined. Because Suga’s your friend. A good friend, maybe the best one you’ve ever had. Still… you really shouldn’t tease him like that.

“Hey, you know I’m kidding, right?” you ask, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Anyway, I think I’m done. I can’t look at these stupid notes anymore - they’re making even less sense than when we started.”

Suga sighs, rolling his neck and flipping the cover of the textbook shut. “Well I suppose it is getting late. Are you hungry? I can order some take out if you want-”

You shake your head before he can finish, “Nah, can’t tonight. I have a date,” you say, shooting him a wink. “Next time though? When everyone’s free. I feel a little guilty stealing all of your time for a one on one session as it is.”

Suga stills for a moment, glancing up to find you smiling sheepishly back at him. “Oh, a date? With that guy from class?” he asks, busying himself in tidying up the notes spread out across the coffee table.

That guy from class. Yeah, the one you haven’t been able to shut up about for weeks. That one.

“Yeah. Nothing crazy, just dinner and a movie - still, I think it’ll be fun, y’know?” You were trying for a blasé tone, but somehow you think the slight dusting of pink on your cheeks kind of ruins it a little bit.

So maybe you were a little excited about it - it wasn’t a crime was it?

Suga gives a non-committal hum, but doesn’t say any more on the topic. Together it doesn’t take the two of you long to clean up, gather your notes and stash the snacks back away for the next study session.

You still have enough time to dart home, have a shower and get ready, but- “Hey, before I go, is it okay if I use your bathroom?” you ask a little shyly. You guys have been friends for months, and you definitely don’t want to come across as rude, but you can’t deny there’s still something slightly embarrassing at having to ask permission.

“Yeah, of course. Down the hallway, last door on the right.”

You nod, thanking him quietly.

It’s a simple mistake. At the end of the hallway, there are two identical doors, both closed over.

Last door on the… left? That’s what he said, right?

You twist the doorknob, easing the door open and within a split second you know that you’ve got the wrong door because this is definitely not a bathroom, but…

Curiosity pushes you forward.

It’s Suga’s bedroom. Your feet move like they have a mind of their own, drawing you in further into his room. You’ve never been to his place before, and you’ve definitely never been in his bedroom before, but you can’t deny that you’re curious. Surprisingly it’s not the mess that you’re expecting - the double bed neatly made and aside from a sweater tossed haphazardly across the back of a chair and a pair of jeans that hadn’t quite made it into the laundry hamper, there’s no dirty clothes littering the floor.

You know it’s rude to pry. You know that, but in that moment you can’t seem to help yourself. Suga won’t mind, really, and it was an honest mistake.

There’s an acoustic guitar in the corner (does he play it, you wonder) and a volleyball covered in signatures sitting on one of the shelves above his desk. Even now, you know that he loves the sport with his whole heart. You’ve never been to a game before, but part of you thinks you’d like to, Suga always makes it sound so exciting. You find a smile creeping across your face as you wander over to have a closer look - there’s photo’s everywhere, in frames, pinned to a cork board on the wall - him with his family, with his friends, even one of the two of you together… and is that a medal?

You’re startled out of your thoughts by your phone vibrating in your pocket.

It should have been a wake up call, a sign from the universe to snap out of whatever nosy spell you’d managed to find yourself under and get out of Sugawara’s bedroom before he comes in to find you blatantly invading his privacy. It should have been - except instead you reach for your phone and fumble.

You’re incredibly thankful for the carpeted floor because you can only watch in horror as your phone clatters to the ground and bounces (bounces!) under his bed.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath, dropping to your knees and resting your cheek against the mattress as you reach blindly into the dark space.

It takes a second of fumbling before your hand lands on something. It’s not your phone, you can tell that much right off the bat - it’s bigger, a box of some kind.

You should have left it.

Really, Sugawara’s a young, healthy guy like any other - you have an inkling of what could be inside the box. And it’s not like you want to see whatever spank bank material your friend has stashed away, you don’t, but…

But there’s a voice in your head that ignores all of that. A voice that whispers so delightfully, so eagerly, for you to just open it.

Open it, it whispers as you slide it out and set it down on the bed, settling yourself down beside it.

Open it, it whispers as you run your fingers along the wooden lid, sanded smooth except for the intricate carving in the centre. It’s strangely beautiful you think - not exactly the kind of box you can imagine filling with something so lewd.

Maybe it’s not what you think… maybe Suga has something else stashed away in this pretty little box. What else could it be? What does a guy like Sugawara Koushi have hidden away under his bed?

Open it, it whispers as your fingers find the edge and you slowly slide it open.

You immediately wish you hadn’t.

It’s you.

The photo’s a little blurry, taken from a distance and zoomed in, but it’s definitely you, lying in your bed, head thrown back with your eyes closed, bottom lip caught between your teeth-

The sheets obscure the rest, but from the flush on your cheeks and the arm disappearing between your spread legs, it’s obvious what you’re doing.

There’s more. You with your friends, laughing. You out with your ex, maybe a month or so before you’d broken up. You in your bedroom again, a white fluffy towel wrapped around you, your hair still wet from the shower.

You walking home from class, taken from behind.

You in your favourite cafe, sitting by the window with a steaming mug in hand, staring out with a soft smile.

You tucked up on the couch, eating dinner with the TV playing in the background.

You.

Every single photograph was of you, and every single one of them taken without your knowledge. Pictures of you from last year, long before you ever met Suga. How long has he been-

You can’t even bring yourself to finish the thought. You feel sick, violated, your hands trembling as you flick through the images. You don’t want to see any more, but you can’t seem to stop yourself. You at the park with your friends, walking their dogs and chatting aimlessly. You bending over to pick up something, the shot framing your ass in a way that seems almost… lewd.

When did he take these? H-how had you never noticed?

Oh god, some of these are from outside your home.

Your stomach churns, you might actually vomit…

“Got lost, baby?”

You jump at the sudden interruption, quickly snapping the lid shut and shoving the little box of horrors away from you like it’s poison, hurried excuses already on the tip of your tongue - but it’s too late for that.

One look at Sugawara, standing framed in the doorway, watching you with an eerily calm expression upon his face and you know that it doesn’t matter what you say. There’s no denying what you’ve seen.

No coming back from it.

His eyes drift to the box, the incriminating pictures spilled across his sheets and he sighs. “You know, I wanted to make this special for you. I wanted to do this right.” His hazel eyes flicker back to you as he steps inside his bedroom and shuts the door behind him. The soft click has never sounded so deafening. So final. “But you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You just couldn’t keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong.”

Your heart thumps painfully against your ribs, the sound so loud that you’re sure he has to be able to hear it too. It’s not nausea that seeps through your veins, keeping you frozen in place, but fear. Suga’s always been such a gentle presence in your life but there’s no trace of that person left as he closes the distance between the two of you.

It’s all been a lie, a carefully crafted facade designed to pull you in. Do you even know him at all?

“S-suga, what-”

“Shh,” he murmurs, placing a finger across your lips, a soft, delicate smile playing across his features. “Didn’t your parents ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat?” He pauses for a moment, watching with wicked delight as your face pales and you jerk away from his touch with a strangled gasp. “It’s okay, baby, there’s no need to look so worried. Don’t you know I’d forgive you anything?”

His lips crash against yours before you can even think to reply.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere suga #yandere suga x reader #yandere sugawara koushi #yandere sugawara x reader #yandere sugawara koushi x reader #yandere imagines #my writing #yandere hq #yandere fic #sugawara x reader #suga x reader

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pocketramblr · 3 years

Note

im going to be so fucking predictable right now but, for a prompt... how about some momnight

I'm going to do my Very Best at this though I am very unpracticed with writing her so here we go!

---

"Alright, class. Today we're supposed to do a lesson that follows up on the interviews you did yesterday with Midnight and Mt. Lady. Which means I'm not teaching."

With that, Aizawa-sensei flopped to the ground. The thud was only slightly cushioned by the sleeping bag around him. A few students winced.

"Exactly!" Midnight said, shoving open the door. "This time, we'll be practicing a little more with cameras and a little less with talking."

Oh? The students all leaned in, curious and excited.

"We'll be practicing photo shoots! Come to studio 1-4, come on." She stepped to the side as the class got excited, and just waved Aoyama out the door when he jumped to go ask her a million questions, sparkling.

Toru was excited too, though she took more time to stand than the others. By the time she had, Yaomomo had already dragged the reluctant Jiro out of the room, and all that remained were Bakugo and Koda.

"Not going to be the last one there, I hope, Bakugo?" Midnight asked, tone of voice edging into a tease.

Bakugo grumbled about it being stupid, but he did hurry more out the door.

"And you, Koda? Nothing to be scared about, the camera doesn't bite." But their teachers sure might, if they dawdled- or interrupted anymore of Aizawa's extended naptime.

"Right!" Toru agreed, skipping to the back of the room to reach for the boy's arm. "Come on, it'll be a fun lesson! Better than a pop quiz, and maybe you'll even get to do a cute picture, like holding a bunny!"

Koda stared at her sleeve for a long moment, then finally nodded.

When they passed Midnight at the door, Toru looked up and realized the woman's smile had slipped a little; she looked thoughtful, brow furrowed behind her glasses.

The smile came back quickly though, as she tugged the door closed behind them and hurried them to the studio where the class was waiting for them.

Haya-senpai was also waiting for them, apparently. The cool girl stood in front of a group of third years by the side wall of the room, where several desks and mirrors and lights had been shoved in a row. The rest of the room was cleared out, backdrops and green screens angled around with a few stools and props.

"Alright, class 1a, before we get ready for your first shoot, there are some things to know." Midnight closed the door behind her. "You can take notes on your phone, if you want. There are several different kinds of photoshoots. What ones can you think of?"

"Ooh!" Mina waved her hand and was called on. "There's magazine photoshoots, and if you're lucky you'll be on the front page!"

"Certainly, magazine shoots. What else- Yaoyorozu?"

"Advertisements, with products?"

"Very good, you've done some of that already, haven't you? Alright, what other kinds?"

Toru waved her arm, humming so she'd be more noticed. Midnight crooked her finger at her. "Makeup? Well I guess that could be a product too, but there's also fashion shoots."

"Right on, Hagakure."

The class was quiet for a few moments, and Midnight nodded. "There's other kinds too- a headshot shoot, some hero agencies will require them for an application or their site. Portraits, lifestyle, sports, glamor, portfolio- the point is, there’s different types, and different points to each of them.”

Tsuyu raised a hand, and got a nod. “Midnight, all the different types, but don’t they boil down to either work use- like the headshots- or publicity for everything else?”

“That’s not a bad way of looking at it, Asui,” The teacher tapper her cheek as she paused, “But there’s more than that. You could also be doing it for benefit of others, either like a charity calendar photos, or perhaps even as a favor for a friend if one of them asks for a photo op.��

“And if,” Bakugo spoke up, apparently at the end of his patience for waiting for an explanation, “we don’t care about that crap? Publicity? If we haven’t got any friends who just want to take pictures of us?”

Midnight’s smile stretched, just a little, like a smirk. “Not a bad question. Anyone else think they have an answer?”

No one spoke, looking at each other, then Iida raised his hand.

“Midnight-sensei! Regardless of wanting to do publicity or charity or not, an agency may require to and all parts of a hero career should be done as exactly as one can, whether or not you want to-”

Midnight coughed. “Not bad, Iida, but not what I was thinking of. Bakugo, everyone, consider it like this. Once you become a hero- before that, even- you are going to have publicity. You are going to have paparazzi. Your photos are going to end up in ragmags no matter what you do.” She emphasized those words with a tap from her whip to her palm. “But, you can decide how you present yourself in other media. Sure, you can go way underground like Eraser. Or, you can take control of your representation. Choose your own photographers, magazines, products, vlogs, anything. That’s why you have to learn how to do these photoshoots and other media courses.” She clapped her hands, and the third years jumped. “So, we start with makeup.”

The older students waved some of her classmates forward, and Toru pushed Koda forward so he’d sit.

She found herself watching them get makeup put on, holding Iida’s glasses for him while Haya mused with his hair. Next to him, a senior was marking lines under Uraraka’s eyes to make the lashes pop.

“That looks really cute!”

“Thanks!”

“Do you mind me using a bit more foundation here?” Another senior said, poking at Midoriya. “It’s not quite even, but some of your freckles are showing through still.”

“Uhh,” Midori said, eloquently.

The older student raised his eyebrow.

“Um, actually, its,”

“It’s what, Midoriya?” Midnight asked, stepping from out of nowhere to peer over his shoulder at his mirror.

“It’s fine!” The makeup didn’t completely hide how red his face went.

Their teacher met his gaze in the reflection, clicking her tongue. “Come on, what did I say the point of the lesson was?”

“Um, control?” Midoriya asked, then went “Oh.”

Midnight smiled, straightening back up.

“I’d like my freckles to be- to not be covered up. Please.” Midoriya was still red, but the senior just shrugged.

“Alright. I’ll darken them with this then instead, so they actually show well under the lights and all that.”

He nodded, relaxing back in his seat, and Midnight squeezed his shoulder before moving on, nodding at Iida before looking at her.

“Hagakure, you haven’t gotten someone to start makeup yet?”

Toru shook her head- and shoulders. “No, Sensei. It’s not like I’ll show up on camera anyway, so.” She kept her voice cheerful, but her smile faltered halfway through.

It was fun to watch everyone else get dolled up and decorated... but would probably be fun if she could join them too.

Midnight stared at her, and she couldn’t read the expression before the teacher shook her head. “No, no. You’ll still have to participate and I have an idea!” She took Toru’s hand, then led her to the seat next to Uraraka.

Toru couldn’t keep the startled giggle from bubbling up as she sat.

“Midoriya,” Midnight said, riffling through the makeup on the desk, “You heard Hagakure. What do you think she could do in a photoshoot like this?”

“Hm.” Midoriya considered it, but when he answered he sounded much more confident than he had earlier. “Well, she’s invisible, but anything on her wouldn’t be. You could play with elements like dust or sparkles to suggest shape in an interesting way- oh, if you don’t mind being in your hero suit, that is.”

Midnight hummed an affirmation. “There’s a lot you and your team could do with that, and body paint is a fun medium to work with.” She paused, then leveled an eyeshadow brush at Toru like it was her whip. “Only when you’re eighteen, though. What do you think, Uraraka?”

“You could use your quirk, you know, to shine?” The brunette waved a hand. “Lighting up in different places to outline you, maybe, it’d look really cool if you had a space-y dress or something with it.”

“Oooh,” Toru had to admit that would be fun. It’d need a dark background and probably a camera without a flash or something, but it would be a picture of her, using her own quirk.

“Or like, even a space suit or something alien!”

“As long as I don’t upstage Mina!”

Midnight decided on something, then turned back with a nod, eyes sparkling. “Those are good ideas. Now, I’m going to try something with eyeshadow on you. Tell me when your eyes are closed.”

Toru closed her eyes as asked. “They are now, Midnight.”

If the point of this lesson was control, she wasn’t quite sure that this counted since she was just letting someone else do it, but Toru didn’t mind. She had a couple new ideas bouncing around for real photoshoots, in the future, and she really wanted to see what her teacher came up with.

She’d been right, this was fun.

It tickled a little, when Midnight traced eyeliner all on the sides of her face, but Toru managed to keep her face still enough. Then came brushes and colors she couldn’t see, shapes she could feel but not recognize.

Finally, the touches to her face stopped and she heard the brush clatter on the table.

“You can open your eyes now.” Midnight said, moving out of the way between the chair and the mirror.

Toru gasped, then stood so she could lean closer to her reflection.

Her teacher had painted elaborate designs over both her eyes, branching out like butterfly wings. They shimmered with many neutral tones, light and brown and pink between the black lines. A few sparkles were touched heavier on the ends, and overall they looked beautiful.

“Oh! Guys, look!” Toru turned, and Uraraka gasped too, clapping.

“Those look so pretty!”

“Right? Thank you so much, Midnight-sensei!”

The hero laughed, waving a hand. “You’re very welcome. You’ll have to work with the photographer to decide how to model it on your own though. Speaking of...” She checked the clock on the wall. “Fifteen minutes left! Get to pictures then washing off.”

She walked off down the row again, checking on the other students, though not before she squeezed Toru’s shoulder for a second when she passed.

Toru was beaming as she asked for a senior with a camera to work with her, and she ended up with a picture of herself winking- one eye open to show the full butterfly, the other closed to show the colors swirled on the eyelid too.

It looked pretty, and it looked fun. It felt like a perfect picture.

#*offers this* sorry it took a while #it was pretty fun to write tho!#pocket talks to people #owlf45 #my writing

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imagines4thefandoms · 3 years

Text

The Man the World Forgot

Part 1

summery: Chris was living the life. He was a famous movie star with all of his films a blockbuster hit. Millions of people around the world knew his name; Chris was the most famous person in the world. But that all changed in a matter of seconds. When Chris wakes up one morning and the world has no idea who he is. Not even his family and close friends. Chris Evans no longer exist, or more exactly he never did. No one remembered him, no one except Scarlet. Scarlet McLaughlin was just a normal college student just trying to make it to graduation. She discovers that she is the one who remembers who Chris Evans is. Together they try and work out why the world doesn’t remember the movie star. Will they be able to fix the movie stars life or will he just stay forgotten in the minds of his loved ones?

word count: 2.2K

Chis Evans’ Saturday night was just a regular Saturday night while away for work: he called Scott to talk to Dodger, went for a quick run before eating in the hotel restaurant. He watched the couple sitting next to him celebrate something and grew a bit jealous. All he wanted in life to find the right person, settle down, and have kids. Chris just never met the right person.

After finishing his meal, the lonely star went back to his room to get ready for his busy day of shooting in the morning. Normally he would at least explore the city a little but he wasn’t in the mood to explore the beautiful Big Easy tonight. Before the elevator doors closed a pair of newly weds game in and were giggling in the corner. Evans tired to hid as to not draw attention to himself but the couple were too entranced with each other to notice that there was someone else in the elevator.

When the now suffocating metal box reached his floor, Chris exited and walked to his room wondering when he would ever have what they had. He kicked his shoes off as soon as his hotel door closed behind him and got ready for bed. Once he got in bed, he decided against watch tv and just let the noise of the city ease him into slumber. But before he could close his eyes, he saw a light streak across the night sky. ‘A shooting star’ he thought. Chris closed his eyes and made a wish.

“I wish I could be normal and find the love of my life,” he whispered before finally going to sleep.

At midnight the sky exploded with light. The entire city of New Orleans went quite for just a second then roared back to life as if being rebooted. Little did the actor know that his innocent wish full of love and hope had come true but has also brought a twist.

Chris woke up to his alarm blaring at six in the morning for his call time at seven thirty. He has awoken with a new cheery disposition than when he went to bed. Chris had a feeling that today was going to be a great day. He was about to call Scott to talk to Dodge and his brother but decided to take a shower first cause he knew he would be on that call for a while.

After his shower, Chris put on simple jeans and a t-shirt then grabbed his wallet and phone to head to set. The bipolar southern weather had subsided and left a nice cool day, causing the actor to decide to walk the few blocks to set. While on his walk Chris noticed that he was actually relaxed. There was no people with cameras following him nor fans stopping him for a picture. He chalked it up to people still being hung over from their night on Bourbon Street. Chris then remembered that he still has to call Scott. He took out his phone and pressed on his brother’s name in his contacts and waited for him to pick up.

“Hello,” Scott answered in a confused tone.

“Hey man, I just called to say good morning to Dodge. Did I wake you,” Chris asked hoping that he didn’t. He sometime forgot that not everyone is on his sleep schedule.

“Who is this,” Scott replied.

Chis laughed thinking that this was one of his brothers pranks or that he had woken his brother up and he was so fresh from sleep that he was confused. “Scott its me. Are you hung over?” Chris asked as he stopped at a cross walk.

“Hi me but I still don’t know who this is. How did you get this number? You can’t just call me to talk to my dog,” Scott said in a slightly irritated tone.

Chris really thought that his brother was milking this prank. Which was fine. “Scott already very funny its Chris. Your brother. Now can I talk to MY dog before I head on set.”

“Look I don’t know who this is but I don’t have a brother. Don’t call here again,” Scott said before hanging up.

Chis looked at his phone after his brother hung up just to make sure he called the right person. He decided against calling him again just to check up on him partly because he wanted to wait til he had a lunch break in hopes that Scott would give up on this prank and partly because he was at his filming location.

He walked up to the security guard and gave him a smile as he walked by, but the guard stopped him. “Name,” the guard asked.

Evans wasn’t use to not being recognized but he chalked it to being protocol. He gave the guard his name and id and waited til he check is clipboard of approved people on set. “Your not on the list,” the guard replied handing back the id.

“There has got to be some mistake,” Chris said slightly annoyed, “Im the lead role.”

“You are not on the list, which means you don’t get in.”

Chris was now more annoyed so he took out his phone and called his agent Charlie to straighten this whole mess out. Once Charlie picked up the phone Chris skipped the pleasantries and just tole him how he’s not being let on set and that he’s about to be late.

“Who is this,” Charlie asked after Chris went on his little rant.

“Charlie, its Chris. Chris Evans.”

“Um i’m not in the office today but if you make an appointment with my assistant we can look into maybe representing you. I don’t know how you got this number but i’m going to give you my assistant’s and you just make an appointment,” Charlie replied in a professional manor.

“Charlie. Im already your client. Did Scott put you up to this,” Chris laughed at the extent of his brother’s prank.

“I know all of my clients and a Chris Evans is not one of them. Im sorry I think you have the wrong number. Have a great weekend,” Charlie replied hanging up the phone.

Chris was starting to really not like this prank. He had to be on set in five minutes, but his anxiety of the whole situation was getting really out of hand so he went for a walk around the city. Then he will be late to set and Charlie will call him back to apologize making the whole prank thing to rest.

Even though the city isn’t at its bullies at seven thirty in the morning Chris couldn’t deny the cozy and exciting atmosphere of it. Once again on his walk Chris was not bothered by fans nor photographers and for a quick second he wondered how extensive was the plank his brother was pulling. He pasted a Café Du Monde and realized that he had planned on eating breakfast on set. This place was on a list of places Anthony had told Chris to visit while he was in New Orleans. These beignets were supposedly the best things ever so Chris took his friends advice and decided to have an order for breakfast.

He sat down at a table outside so he could still enjoy the scenery of the old beautiful city and waited for a waitress to come over. Chris was entranced by some street players when his waitress came over and greeted him a good morning. He looked over and saw a young girl about seventeen in white button-up shirt with black pants, black bowtie, and a long green apron. The actor braced himself for the questions and her starstruck demeanor.

“Are you,” she started to say as she grabbed her notebook out of the apron.

“Chris Evans yes, how are you,” he said expecting her question of a picture and autograph. But it never came instead introduced herself and told him she was asking if he was ready to order.

This took Chris by surprise. Usually you women this this waitress would be hounding him for pictures and autographs and question but she did. He wanted to chalk it up to her being professional but there was a tiny voice inside his head the told him it was something else.

“Sorry um ill take an order of beignets and a café au Lait,” Chris ordered thankful for the pressure from Anthony for him to pronounce every thing he is going to eat in New Orleans correctly so he doesn’t look stupid. The Waitress gave him a nod and a smile before to put in his order.

The waitress came back three minutes later with the coffee and a plate with three beignets. She placed the items on the table and gave him the line of ‘hope you enjoy’ then went back to work. After he took one bite, he realized that Anthony was right about how delicious these things were. Chris was about to text his friend about how much he enjoyed the fried doughy treat but decided against because he knew Mackie was in the west coast for his film and its six am in Hollywood, also he didn’t want to take the chance that Scott had gotten him in on the prank as well.

For the first time in forever Chris Evans wanted to be attacked by paparazzi and to be swarmed by fans getting too close for comfort. So he did the only think he could think of. Once he finish his breakfast he paid and left a generous tip to the young highs cool student and walked to the place where he knew there would be people at eight in the morning: the Flea Market down the road.

Once he arrived to the Flea Market, he was overwhelmed over the amount of people there. Given that it was eight in the morning on a Saturday it wasn’t weird for this many people to be there, but the sight gave Chris a little bit of anxiety. He was starting to second guess being around so many people in this publish setting just to get recognized.

But once again while he was looking at all the different booths, no one stopped him, no one took his picture, and no one whispered about him behind his back. Chris decided to get Scott something from the flea market in hopes that it would make him fell bad for this prank; Chris had also gotten some souvenirs for the rest of his family while at the flea market as well. Once he was finished with his shopping, the actor headed back to his hotel room. He wanted to get some rest and just wake up from this horrible day.

On his walk back to the hotel, Chris thought that he should enjoy this albeit terrible anonymity he seems to have. He walked a little slower and just took in the sights of the historical buildings he was passing. And while he has heard Anthony complain about the streets being awful in the city he admired the imperfection of the cracks and the potholes, something that natives never have like.

He stoped at Jackson square and enjoyed one street performer groups’ show and looked around at the art work hanging on the fence. Some where simple and others where very detailed but all captured the story of the city that had persevered though many hardships. And after gazing upon what is St. Louis Cathedral, Evans really headed back to his hotel room.

This time the buildings were not the things that caught his attention, but the families that were out exploring the city as he was. One that stuck out in particular was a family with a small girl about the age of five who kept asking her father if they could take a horse ride. She was pointing to the white horse who was standing at the corner to the street waiting for the next people he was going to give a ride too. The father and mother exchanged looked and then agreed which caused the little girl to jump up and down with joy.

The sight made Chris’s heart swell. In that moment he didn’t see that family, he saw the family he hope to have in the future. He saw his littler girl jumping for joy over a horse while him and his wive looked upon her with such adoration. The family disappeared into the horse drawn carriage and Chris’s mind was back on his bed.

Chris was almost at his hotel room when he felt like he was being watched, which on a normal day wasn’t weird but on a day like today it was. He stopped and looked around him to see where this feeling was coming from. That when he noticed someone on the phone across the street staring straight at him. Chris knew that look on her face. Its the face fans get when they see him. This girl knows who he is. She is the only person who does. He knew he had to ask her why.

Part 2

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #the man the world forgot

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

Coffee (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Coffee Rating: PG-13 Length: 2700 Warnings: A brief discussion about abortions. Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. And release order here. Set early February 1998. My personal headcanon for Reader/Annie is Phoebe Tonkin and Elena is Camilla Mendes. They are supposed to look strikingly similar. And if you don’t know my backstory for Reader it’s alluded to in this chapter. Summary: Reader meets up with an old acquaintance.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

Elena greeted you with a warm hug, “It’s so good to see you again. It has been such a long time.”

“I know.” You squeezed her back, before you released her and sat down at the table. “You look good.”

“So do you.” Elena assured you as she sat down across from you. “I did not know you and Javier were here in Miami. What a small world.”

You laughed, “When Connie mentioned someone from Colombia who bore a resemblance to me…” You gestured between the two of you, “I was shocked.”

She nodded, “As was I. When Connie found me on Monday and told me about the connection, I was floored.” Elena rested her chin on her palm, propping her elbow on the table. “Of all the people I knew in Colombia.”

“I tried to get Javier to come, but…” You shrugged, chewing on your bottom lip. Javier couldn’t understand why you were so determined to meet with one of his informants — especially since that part of his life was well and truly in the past. But it wasn’t that. You had actually liked Elena. There were no hard feelings towards her.

She deserved better than the situation she was in in Colombia.

“The last time I saw him, you had just told him you were pregnant.” Elena mused with a slight smirk. “I had never seen Javier scared before. After everything he’d endured, it was the promise of fatherhood that brought him to his knees.”

You smiled wistfully. “It wasn’t the best situation.”

“No,” Elena shook her head slowly. “I told him years before he should’ve acted on his feelings. But he ignored me.”

“What?” Your brows furrowed.

Elena gestured between the two of you, “The first time I met him, I could’ve sworn he’d seen a ghost.”

A knot coiled in the pit of your belly. You weren’t a fool — you had known that your similarities with Elena were no coincidence. He hadn’t just sought her out for her the information. “I remember walking into that motel room and…” You frowned.

Years later, you still didn’t know how to explain your feelings on that situation. It wasn’t like you and Elena were identical, but it was close enough that if you squinted the similarities were all there. It had left you with a strange fire in your veins.

“He adored you.” Elena stated firmly. “I was almost jealous that there was a good man like him left to pine after someone who didn’t want him.”

You shook your head, “I wanted him, I just… You know how Javier was.”

“I do.” She agreed. “I’m glad things worked out for the two of you. Javier was one of the few good men who came through the doors of the brothel. He deserved a happy ending.”

“He’s the best father. Those girls are his everything.” You told her.

“Girls?”

You laughed and nodded, “We have two daughters now.”

“Connie didn’t mention that.” She laughed. “Javier is a father two times over?”

“Sofía will be one in June.”

“Congratulations.” Elena smiled at you. “What do you do now? I assume you are not with the DEA.”

“Javier teaches,” You explained. “And I’m contracted with the Miami PD to handle narcotics training.”

“Still kicking ass.” Elena brought her coffee cup to her lips and took a sip. “I’m impressed.”

You grabbed your purse off the back of the chair, pulling out your wallet. “This was our family photo for Christmas.” You said as you slid the picture across the table.

“Look at the four of you!” She grinned at you, “You have a beautiful family.”

You beamed, “They're pretty cool, I guess.” Elena passed the picture back to you and you stared down at it. “I can’t believe how big Josie is getting.”

The photographer had been so frustrated with you. He was determined to get the classic Christmas card picture with the tree in the background and one of the kids holding a present. But that wasn’t your style. You both wanted a picture that represented your family.

Javier had worn a pair of dark blue slacks with a white shirt. He’d rolled up his sleeves to his elbow and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt beneath a tie Josie had picked out. Neither of you were the Christmas sweater type. You had, however, gotten the girls matching dresses, navy blue with silver snowflakes. And your own silver maxi dress was meant to tie the four of you together.

You loved all the pictures from the shoot, but the one you carried around was your favorite. Josie was sitting in her father’s lap, cheesing for the camera, while you sat beside him with your cheek against his shoulder as you helped Sofía balance on her feet in front of you. It wasn’t a picture-perfect Christmas card family — but it was all yours.

“Are you living with your cousin?” You questioned, lifting your gaze back to her as you tucked the photo back into your wallet.

“You remembered! Santiago lives in Tampa. I lived with him while I went to school, but I’m on my own now.” Elena explained with a polite smile. “He visits when he can.”

“That’s great. I’m glad you have family nearby.”

“He helped a lot when I first arrived.” She shook her head slowly, “I just knew I couldn’t stay in Colombia.”

“I’m glad you got out when you did.” You assured her, “Things were heating up near the end.”

“I’m sure it was.” She nodded, “What prompted the two of you to leave?”

You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, leaning your elbow against the table as you looked out the window to your right. “The DEA wasn’t exactly thrilled that I was pregnant,” You explained. “They did everything in their power to make me miserable and it worked. After Josie was born, Javier and I came clean about who the father was and I was let go.” You shrugged. “He quit and we left the country.”

Elena rolled her eyes, “I’m not surprised the rest of the DEA are swine.”

“They certainly were.” You laughed, “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’m actually working on exposing them.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “Javier requested all of the files my name was in. It’s a stack of them.” You sank back in your seat, glancing out the window again. “We’ve got a reporter covering it. The first article is supposed to drop in the Washington Post next month.”

“Holy shit.” She leaned against the table. “You’re really trying to take them down, aren’t you?”

You rubbed at the back of your neck as you looked back at her, “They omitted me entirely from the reports about Escobar. It’s just Steve and Javi.”

She frowned, “But you were right there.”

“Yeah.” Your brows furrowed and you shook your head. “They essentially redacted me from the history books, simply because I had Josie.”

“That’s bullshit.” She took another sip of her coffee, staring at you. “You were so dedicated to your job. Not only was that plain to see when we worked together, but Javier…” She pressed her lips together. “He was proud of you.”

“Did he really talk about me that much?”

Elena shrugged, “I did not expect to see him again after the first time you and I worked together. I don’t know if he realizes how much he said without really saying anything. But it was clear he cared about you more than as just a partner.”

You sat up a little straighter then. “We’ve had a lot of discussions about that period in our lives. It’s just nice to hear from an outside source that I wasn’t alone in my… feelings.”

Elena pushed her hair behind her shoulders, smiling a little at you. “I really thought he was an idiot for not saying something to you. I did try to get him to.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Luckily we are better about talking things through. It’s an uphill battle sometimes, but we try.” You leaned against the table. “So, how’d you get into social work?”

“It felt natural. I wanted to do something to give back. Ideally, I would like to work with women who are in difficult situations, but the hospital is a stepping stone to that.” Elena took another sip of coffee. “I’ve been volunteering at a women’s shelter downtown, which has been really fulfilling.”

You smiled, “I wish I had more time to help the community. Javi’s got a full class schedule this semester and Monica is juggling a lot on her plate.”

“Monica?” Elena questioned with an arched brow.

“Oh.” You laughed softly as you grabbed your wallet again, shuffling through the pictures before you produced a picture that had been taken at Thanksgiving. “Monica is one of Javier’s students. We’ve essentially adopted her into our family.”

She gave you a look.

“Her parents are not… understanding. To put it lightly.” You explained, “She’s been helping us with the girls, but she just started dating a really sweet girl and I don’t want her missing out on that.”

Her eyes widened, “Ah.”

“Exactly,” You shrugged with a short laugh. “We tried to get her to join us for the family photo at Christmas, but the lure of Nadia was too strong. They have this arcade they go to all the time.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t get the appeal.”

An incredulous sound escaped Elena as she stared at you, “You really did it, didn’t you?”

“Did what?”

“Domesticated Javier Peña.”

You laughed loudly, much to the annoyance of the older couple sitting at the table behind you. “Sorry.” You offered, before looking back at Elena. “He’s extremely domesticated.” You grinned. “The man has a favorite coffee mug.”

Elena chuckled, “That’s the sort of life both of you deserve.”

“I appreciate that.” You smiled at her. “Honestly, I thought I’d end up married to my work. Javier and Josie changed my life and I couldn’t be happier.”

“You’re a stronger woman than I am,” Elena said with a warm smile. “If I had been in your situation, I don’t know if I would’ve chosen the motherhood route.”

You took a sip of coffee, nodding your head slowly. “I didn’t even consider the alternative.” You admitted quietly, “I was ready and willing to do this alone if Javier didn’t want to be involved. It would’ve broken my heart, I think, but… she was the best accident.” You bit down on your bottom lip, thinking for a minute. “My own childhood wasn’t great.”

“Really?”

You rubbed your lips together, giving a slight nod. “I overcame it, I came out on top, but… I don’t want my girls to have to work that hard to be loved. No one should have to feel like love is conditional. Monica, Josie, Sofía deserve better than that.” You raked your fingers through your hair. “I think that’s why, with Josie… I didn’t even consider having an abortion. I wanted to prove to myself that I could be the mother I never had.”

Elena reached across the table and squeezed your hand, “And look at the life you’ve built from that decision.”

“We should have coffee again sometime,” You suggested. “There’s no reason to be strangers in a city that is clearly small.”

“I would like that,” She patted your hand, before reaching for her coffee cup once more. “And please send Javier my best. He was a good man and he finally has the life he deserves.”

“He’ll appreciate that.” You finished off the last of your coffee. Your eyes flickered to your wristwatch, “Shit. I need to pick up the kids.” You said as you got up, pulling your purse across your chest. “Thank you again, Elena.”

“I’m glad we reconnected,” Elena said as she stood up, “I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

You exchanged a brief hug with her, before you ducked out of the coffee shop and headed for your car. You were relieved that the meeting had gone well — though you had expected it to. You’d worked alongside Elena a handful of times back in Colombia, where it was necessary that you play a part to get intel and she’d always been gracious to you.

Outside of the first time you met her at the motel room, there was no lingering awkwardness there. Though you had a sneaking suspicion that more of his informants had known about you than just Elena. Considering how bad Javier was at keeping your second pregnancy secret, you figured he’d had a case of loose lips when it came to you.

This was definitely going to come up with Nancy. If not straight from you, from Javier’s sessions. You were certain, with each passing session, Nancy was finding the two of you more and more unusual. Especially given the fact that Nancy had devoted an entire session to try to work out whether you held resentment towards Javier for sleeping with informants — as if you hadn’t as well.

It was just never something that concerned you. It didn’t affect your relationship with Javier whatsoever. Sure, Elena bore a striking resemblance to you, but Steve had made you aware of the fact that you’d gone after men that even reminded him of Javier.

Gotta love a good proxy.

As you settled into your car your phone started ringing.

“Hey,” You said after you pulled it free from your purse. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh yeah?” Javier countered with a short chuckle. “I was thinking about you too, baby. You done with coffee?”

“Just got in the car to head over and pick up Josie.” You told him, shouldering the phone so you could buckle your seatbelt. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to see how it went.” He cleared his throat and you could practically feel his nerves through the phone. “How… How’d it go?”

“We spent the entire time gossiping about you.” You teased, trying to allay his worries. “We just caught up, Javi. It was nothing deeply profound.”

Javier grumbled, “But you did talk about me?”

You rolled your eyes, putting your keys into the ignition and starting the car off. The radio came on, blasting Los Del Rio’s hit, and you quickly turned the knob to turn it down. “Of course we talked about you, Javi. Did you think you wouldn’t be brought up?”

“I just…” Javier trailed off and for a second you thought the call had dropped. “I used to tell her a lot more than I should’ve.”

“I gathered this.” You laughed softly. “But I also recall you told another informant that I was pregnant.”

“Yes.”

“You were a terrible agent Javier.” You said lightly. “Loose lips sink ships.”

“I just couldn’t tell the right person.” He remarked, sighing heavily. “At least I’ve made up for it.”

“Have you?” You countered, chewing on your bottom lip. “Do you have any plans this weekend?”

“Working on next week’s slides. Why, baby?”

“We should go out.” You suggested. “We haven’t really had a date since Sof was born. We could give Le Mystere a try.”

Javier hummed, “The new Mediterranean place off Washington?”

“I know you’ve been dying to try it.” You smiled, “Come on, Javi. We deserve a kid-free night.”

“I’ll give Steve a call after we get off the phone.” Javier drawled out, “See if I can get us a reservation tomorrow.”

“I thought you’d jump on this opportunity.” It had been a long time since the two of you had actually had a real date. It was hard to balance two careers, two kids, and still manage to get a decent night of sleep.

“How could I say ‘no’, baby?” He chuckled. “What’s the occasion?”

“I love you. Do I need an occasion, Javi?”

“No, you don’t. But you’ve got me looking forward to the weekend now.” He chuckled, “Alright, lemme get off the phone and get us a reservation.”

“Perfect. I’m gonna go get the kids.”

“See you at home, baby.”

“See you soon.” You smiled as you hung up the phone, tossing it into the passenger seat beside you.

Sure, you both had been more than willing to try new things, but the old thing — just the two of you — was pretty good too. Dinner out, the house to yourselves… Hopefully this time you won’t accidentally fall asleep after dinner, because you were breaking in the newest lingerie set you’d bought.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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evansfm · 3 years

Text

𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 –– 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 .

every morning evan woke up to a london sky that refused to let the sun in ; summer was drier than spring , but the clouds seemed to linger year round . . . not that she minded . she had , after all , grown up in county dublin , where things were always a bit damp . still , the lack of COLOR could be draining . . . so she searched for it in unexpected places , creating little pockets of color for herself in a rather grayscale world . golden lights strung on her balcony , isla’s bright red hair and matching smile , an array of bright letters boasting NME lining a wall –– covers from past decades , a rainbow rubik’s cube next to her keyboard , two framed photographs perched on her desk . the first seemed like forever ago , a beaming eloise with a twin on either side ; beck on the left , evan on the right , both planting kisses on her cheek one valentine’s day years and years ago . the second was more recent , backstage at a show in galway ; kieran sat in his chair with his fingers intertwined with evan’s as she draped her arms over his shoulders from behind , chin resting on top of his curls and a smile that looked SOFT compared to the goofy one ruairi wore , looming behind her with his chin on her head . she felt warmth every time she looked at them , but there was always a tug in her stomach . . . the undeniable feeling of something missing . she found her little pockets of color , but they still seemed muted without the people she loved –– the PERSON she loved .

their schedules had begun to clash –– and evan hated the way she was beginning to get used to the dull ache of his absence . distance had been a part of their relationship for months , but the time zones were killing her . they couldn’t always make time for hours wasted away on facetime ; she couldn’t always fall asleep to the sound of his voice on the other end of the line . they were both where they were supposed to be , chasing their dreams together , separately . . . but evan was beginning to wonder if the path she was on –– the desk , the deadlines , the distance –– was actually what she WANTED . there was a lack of creative control at nme ; she was a part of a greater whole , confined to a desk when she wasn’t out in the field . she felt restless . . . bored , almost . and with her most recent deadline met and a job of her own –– evan connely , sans nme –– waiting at the end of the week , she was distracted .

“ WHAT are you doing ? ” isla popped up behind her , coming out of nowhere to look over her shoulder .

“ jesus , ” evan startled , nearly dropping the plastic puzzle in her hand , “ where t’e fuck did you come from ? ”

“ charlotte’s office . answer my question . ”

“ playing wit’ a toy , ” she held up the half solved rubik’s cube , then let out an audible sigh as isla looked unimpressed , then jutted her chin towards the computer screen , “ trying to put together a mood board for t’is gig i’ve got wit’ saint valentine on friday . ”

perfectly shaped auburn brows raised , “ we got saint valentine ? ”

“ no , ” evan’s lips lifted into the faintest smirk , “ i got saint valentine . ”

“ you’re bloody joking . shut UP , ” isla gasped , rounding to her side of the table desk , just to roll her chair around , “ and you didn’t fucking tell me ? ”

“ no , because you couldn’t keep a secret if you tried .”

“ well that’s because it shouldn’t be a fucking secret , ev . this is fantastic , ” hazel eyes widened with excitement , “ so you’re shooting them for –– . . . ”

“ t’ey weren’t too explicit about it . i know for certain i’m covering bot’ shows at t’e o2 , documenting t’e whole thing from t’e moment they get there , ” evan huffed a curl away from her face , nodding to the screen , “ and t’en a shoot on site at t’e venue . so i’ve got to work wit’ what i’ve got . i’ve got ONE chance here , and nicky haven scares t’e absolute fuck out’a me , so i can’t blow it . ”

“ nicky haven scares EVERYONE . it’s part of his charm , ” isla leaned in , making herself perfectly comfortable in evan’s space as she took the mouse and began clicking through different ideas opened on photoshop , “ let’s see what you’ve got so far –– . . . ”

“ isla , it’s not a big deal . really i shouldn’t even be working on t’is HERE , right now . it’s not exactly nme related stuff , you kn–– ”

“ i TOLD you she was here today , ” a girl called sophie , who manned nme’s front desk in the mornings , materialized on the other side of evan’s desk . a junior writer , andrew , was hot on her heels .

“ soph , now really probably isn’t the best time and it really isn’t your busi–– ”

“ someone’s got to show her , ” sophie was , admittedly , obnoxious . and coming from EVAN , that was a feat .

“ show WHAT to WHO ? ” isla’s voice changed in tone , taking on a hint of authority as she looked at andrew , “ aren’t you meant to be doing some social media research right now ? ”

“ i WAS , but –– ”

“ but we’ve found something that evan HAS to see , ” sophie . again .

“ we ? ”

“ ME ? ” evan said in tandem with isla , brows lifting as she clicked the final piece into place on the cube . she glanced over at isla and felt a strange twist in her stomach when she saw the redhead had gone rigid .

“ is this about –– ”

“ rebecca stringer , ” andrew nodded solemnly , as though evan was supposed to know who the hell THAT was .

“ better known as BEX , ” sophie added .

it was evan’s turn to go rigid . her back straightened , and it felt like ice had just been shot through her veins . truth be told , she was more worried about conflicting schedules lately . . . not the way bex sing-songed a shortened version of kieran’s name . . . or the way she answered his phone and simply couldn’t remember who evan was . . . or the way she’d made sure evan could hear her promise to personally deliver kieran to his hotel room that first night in los angeles . it wasn’t exactly PLEASANT being reminded of the instinct that she’d shut down , intuition telling her something wasn’t quite right there . her brows pinched together as the rubik’s cube slid from one hand to the other and back . she glanced over at isla with a prompting look .

“ we’re . . . doing a piece about nepotism babies in the industry , and she’s a PERFECT example of one so i was having andrew look into the way she interacts with fans and her socials and what not . she’s one of like TEN people we’re looking into , ” she explained with an apologetic look . it was then that she turned a sharp eye to andrew and sophie , “ don’t know what THAT has to do with evan , though . ”

“ see for yourself . ”

“ SOPHIE . ”

“ what ? it probably isn’t even new information for her , ” she shrugged , reaching over two monitors to hand evan a phone . twitter was opened to a profile with bex’s beaming face in the icon , but the handle wasn’t hers . she gave the pair of them a skeptical look before glancing over at isla who only offered a half - hearted shrug . it didn’t take long to see what , exactly , sophie had been talking about , a slew of tweets and retweets .

bexupdates : bex & kieran pulled up to the venue together . . . and then left at the same time . why are they lowkey so cute annathefound : not bex wearing a baby tee version of the found’s merch . . . stanning her boyfriend just like the rest of us

ruairidailyposts : ok wait are evan & kieran even dating anymore bc i could be down with a bex & kieran moment cheerupbailey : @ruairidailyposts you know two people can have a relationship without posting about it right ??? they’re in separate countries rn lol

babybexxx : i just think that bex & kieran walsh as a power couple .

bxhq : no offense but bex is simply so much better for him than some rando from ireland like what thefoundupdates : @bxhq babes they LITERALLY grew up together ????

totallyconan : be honest do u guys think the reason evan isn’t on tour with them is bc they’re not together anymore like she literally never misses shows

adamfitzupdates : why are y’all so obsessed with a relationship that doesn’t concern you ??? chill bexlevitates : @adamfitzupdates bc it’s weird that evan knew him for so long and only started dating him AFTER the found started to get big like that’s shady

bexupdates : find someone who looks at u the way bex looks at kieran on stage wtf did y’all see that

newruleshq : no waaaay this man has a gf when he and bex look so good next to each other LMAO

thefoundupdates : according to the girl who wrote the article kieran literally WALKED OUT on the interview ??? rockstar behavior but also hope he’s ok

evan could’ve kept scrolling for hours as her heart rate began to rise and rise . the crease between her brows deepened , and she reminded herself of everything she knew to be true . kieran LOVED her . twitter was a BRUTAL place . it was as though the worst parts of her subconscious had come to life in 280 characters or less . her head began to swim as her heart sank into her stomach .

“ what does t’is –– . . . ” her voice cracked , and she cleared her throat , finally looking up from the phone screen , “ why , exactly , are you showing me this ? ”

sophie looked as though she was shocked by evan’s question , “ because i’ve dated musicians . . . and like HALF of those are in bex’s likes . which are public , by the way . just doesn’t seem subtle to me . ”

“ are you trying to insinuate something here , sophie ? ” her tone shifted , irritated as she handed the phone back .

“ like i said , i’ve dated guys in bands , too , and –– ”

“ enough , ” isla snapped , “ you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong . BOTH of you should be off doing your jobs right now , so , run along . ”

both of them scurried off without a word .

evan was still for a moment , but her fingertips were itching for the keyboard . she was no stranger to things like this , unkind words from strangers who didn’t LOVE the idea of her –– despite not knowing her . the good outweighed the bad on the internet , but the voices who didn’t like her were always the loudest . even BEFORE she and kieran had gone public with their relationship . . . even before they were ever in a relationship at all . over time , she’d learned to tune it out and focus on the kindness that flooded her comment sections and mentions . . . but every now and again something slipped through the cracks . . . and when they did , she absorbed them like a blow to the abdomen . they settled into her memory and cemented themselves there , tucked away until they found the perfect moment to make her self conscious . like the fan who had commented on the shape of her body before and after going to uni . . . and another from galway who made it their business to let everyone know she’d slept around while living there . . . and every time someone said she wasn’t good enough for kieran or any of them . that she had bad intentions , leeching onto the boys for fame . that her career was based SOLELY on the four of them .

if she caved and kept scrolling , she’d commit it all to memory . . . everything that made her intuition about bex STRONGER .

instead , she launched forward and snatched the rubik’s cube back up , immediately distorting its perfect faces and mixing it up again . it was good to keep your hands busy , she knew , when your mind began to run away .

the worst of it wasn’t even TRULY comments about their relationship . . . those hurt , but they didn’t sting quite as bad as real - time updates about kieran and bex showing up or leaving venues together . she dulled the pain by reminding herself that THREE other boys were never too far behind . that kieran would never . . . COULD never . . .

but then again , there was the tweet that weighed heaviest in her mind . kieran walked out in the middle of an interview , and he hadn’t told her . something rattled him to the point of his version of an outburst , and he hadn’t told her . that seemed like something he would have told her . . . it seemed important enough , she thought to herself , right ? RIGHT ?

her throat felt tight , and she kept running the tweets she’d read over in her mind . there was a deep furrow in her brow as she looked down at her hands , still vehemently mixing up the toy . something felt off kilter . . . but she couldn’t pin down which hurt more : the slew of tweets from people pretending to know what went on in her relationship . . . or the thought of kieran doing something as rash as storming out of an interview –– and then not telling her .

“ i didn’t know about t’e interview bit , ” she said quietly , eyes still trained on the colorful cube . she was certain her face was the opposite , color drained .

“ evan –– . . . ”

“ it’s fine , ” she said firmly , “ it’s probably not true . just like t’e rest of it isn’t true . ”

her voice sounded distant . . . and she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince isla or HERSELF . clearing her throat again , she set the toy back down on her desk and scooted towards the computer .

“ i’ve got work to do , ” she said quietly , getting back to the monitor . though all she wanted to do was go home . how many more people thought that she wasn’t GOOD ENOUGH for kieran ? how many people thought someone like bex was a better fit ? how long would it take for the suggestion to become potent enough to make the people who KNEW them question it as well ? and if kieran had walked out of an interview , WHY hadn’t he told her ?

she glanced down at her own phone screen , hoping that maybe she’d missed a text or a call . . . but all she got was nothing . nothing but the words she’d seen written down , now cemented in her mind : bex is simply so much better for him . . . because SHE was there , wrapped up in the same world he was in . she was accessible . immediate . beautiful .

and evan was stuck in london with nothing but time to wonder .

#idk what to taaaag it

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Hymn (Part 3)

Winchester Brothers x Sister!reader (platonic)

Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the masterlist!

Warnings: descriptions of violence, cursing, more angst and fluff. (You guys know the drill)

Summary: Y/N Winchester has wrestled with demons ever since her mother died, but when her younger brothers lives are in danger it’s their souls she fights to save, because isn’t that what a big sister should do?

A/N: I am so excited for you guys to read this chapter! I worked really hard on it and i hope yall enjoy! feedback is greatly appreciated!

The stories told are all we know Exchanged in truth and word The photographs are quilted paths From places we've outgrown

It wasn’t the thunder outside that woke you up. It was never the thunder. If anything thunder was soothing to you, even if you were only eight years old. But it was the creak of your bedroom door that roped you in consciousness. The timid voice of your brother moving softly through the space.

“Y/N?”

“What is it Dean?”

“The thunder. It’s too loud.” The small four year old whimpered, jumping slightly when another round rattled the house.

“You wanna sleep in her with me?” You mumbled sleepily, getting your response when you heard small feet quickly move across the carpet before he dove under the covers besides you.

“Why aren’t you scared of it too?”

“Because Im not scared of anything.” Sighing you rolled over, trying to fall back into the middle of the dream you were having.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Now go to sleep.”

. . . That didn’t happen, because not five minutes later you heard Dean speak up again.

“I can’t sleep. The rains too loud.”

Letting out a groan you rolled over once more, flinging the covers off of you as you slid out of bed. “Come on.” You held out a hand, waiting for Dean to take it.

“Where are we going?”

“On an adventure, what else?”

There was a pause before you felt him latch onto your hand, and then he was sliding out of bed besides you, looking up at you with his big green eyes.

“We gotta be quiet though, okay?”

“Okay.”

You navigated the darkened hallway with ease, Deans hand still gripping yours as you descended the stairs. A flash of lightning lit up the living room as you entered.

“What if we get caught?” Dean whispered, looking back up at you through the dark as the two of you entered the kitchen.

“We won’t. You wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because were ninjas.” You smiled, suddenly hoisting your little brother up onto the tabletop. His small legs kicking lazily over the edge as he watched you.

“We are?”

We carry with the friends we make The hearts we mend and break I see it in another way All lives that we have changed

“Uh-huh.” Nodding, you slightly you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes and reached across the counter for the dented pie tin. Only one slice of apple remained- but that was more than enough. Grabbing that along with two forks you moved back to Dean and pulled out a chair, using it as somewhat of a stool to help you climb up onto the table.

“Do ninjas eat apple pie?”

“I think so. Why wouldn’t they?” You shrugged, lightly tapping your fork against his as you split the piece with your brother. His eyes lit up once again and before you knew it his cheeks were full of apple filling.

Good. Your plan had worked. He wasn’t thinking about the thunder storm anymore.

“Next time can we be cowboys though?” Dean spoke through a mouthful of crust. “I like cowboys better.”

“Sure, as long as I get to be your sidekick.”

“Deal.”

You held out your free hand, pinkie extended. “Pinkie promise?”

“I pinkie promise.” It took him a moment as he juggled with the fork and then his small pinkie wrapped around yours.

“What do you two think you’re doing?”

The sudden and new voice was followed by a click as the light above the table switched on, both of your heads whipping around in surprise.

“Hi, Mama.”

Sure enough standing in the doorway to the kitchen was a very pregnant Mary Winchester, her golden curls falling over her shoulders like a waterfall, her arms crossed.

“I believe it’s past both of your bedtimes the last time I checked?” She mused, her soft and familiar smile crossing over her features as she stepped into the room.

“The thunderstorm was scaring Dean-“

“So she took me on an adventure! Don’t tell Dad!” Dean suddenly blurted, his words slightly muffled by the amount of dessert in his mouth. His eyes widening when he realized how loud he had been.

You watched your mothers eyes narrow before she raised an eyebrow. “Hmm- I won’t tell him. . . As long as you share some of your findings with me.”

You paused to share a look with Dean before he nodded. “I guess we can allow that.”

With that you passed over your fork to your mother, the woman slowly sinking down into the chair you had pulled out earlier. “Now, what type of adventure was it tonight? Pirates? Knights?”

“It’s a secret.”

“A secret? Oh well you can trust me. I’m good at keeping secrets.” Mary whispered back, her elbows on the table as she leaned forward, taking a bite of pie as she did.

Dean was quiet for a moment before he leaned forward. “Ninjas.”

“Ninjas? Oh well that is exciting.” She nodded, the same soft smile from earlier still on her lips. The three of you sat in the kitchen until there was nothing but crumbs in the pie tin and then she was ruffling the hair on both of your heads.

“I think it’s time my little ninjas went off to bed now, isn’t that right?”

You slowly nodded before sliding back onto the floor, the cool tile making your toes curl as you helped Dean down. “Can I sleep in Y/Ns room tonight? The thunders still too loud.”

“As long as it’s okay with your sister.”

You gave him a small nod as you rounded the table, standing on your tiptoes to place a kiss on your mothers cheek. “Goodnight, mama.”

“Goodnight you two.”

Mary’s smile came back as she watched you extended your hand to Dean, his own quickly moving to latch onto your again. “C’mon Dean. Let’s go to bed.” She shifted in her seat so she could rest her forearm on the back of the chair, the two of you darting off silently to the stairs and off to bed. . .

I must go alone Cause I need you there So my memory of home is full

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The force in which you awoke from your sleep was enough to make the chains tethering you to the wall rattle, your head slightly snapping back to collide with the cold metal, the impact making you wince.

“Fuck.” You gave a tired groan as you rolled your shoulders- well at least as best you could. A yawn came shortly after as you allowed your head to rest against the wall. Just a dream. . . Or memory. Dream memory? Was that a thing?

You let out a sigh as you felt your heartbeat slowly begin to find its steady rhythm again, eyes shifting tiredly to the bindings on your wrists and the length of chain that shackled them to the wall. That shackled you to the wall.

Shoot. You forgot about getting yourself thrown in here. . . Then again you did have a hobby for getting on the bad side of your keeper.It was like timeout. . .a very uncomfortable timeout.

Shifting as much as your bindings would allow you tried to get more comfortable. Your butt was numb from sitting in the same position for so long, but there wasn’t really anywhere else to go. You let yourself sink back into your previous position, your arms having lost all feeling awhile ago from hanging for so long.

It wasn’t the first time you had gotten yourself thrown in the cell, and if anything; at this point you were just doing it for the sheer amusement. You had to get your entertainment from somewhere . . . Even if that did mean annoying the hell out of some demons.

The silence that had surrounded you was suddenly broken though when the massive door to the old train car rolled open, light splitting through the darkness as the wheels squealed in their tracks revealing a shadowy mass.

At this point anyone else probably would have screamed and cried or pissed their pants. . . But this was practically just another Tuesday night for you, so you grinned.

“Manah. I thought you were never gonna come visit me. You really shouldn’t leave a gal waiting.”

“And I was hoping by this point in your career you would have known better than to disobey orders.” She tutted, deep red eyes locking onto you tightly.

Career. You huffed with a roll of your eyes. That’s not exactly what you would call it.

The demon in front of you was known by most as Aka-Manah. Birthed from zoroastrian legend she had a knack for controlling others, using them like puppets- like she had been doing to you since what felt like forever. She was the same one that snatched you away from your family, along with a pair of particularly nasty hell hounds. You had the scars to prove it.

Not trying to take my time away Replace the old with new My prison with my reasons right Till I come back to you

You called her the Puppeteer because that’s exactly what she was. She snatched people up from their families and made them do her dirty work. Usually it was children, they were easier to work with. Manah liked to stay in the dark, keep her hands clean. Her acolytes as she called them (you being one of them) were her fighters, her killers. . . And because of it you had so much blood on your hands. innocents and guilty alike. She pulled the strings and you did the dance. You still had your own thoughts and control of your own mind, but it was your body she used. Her finely tuned weapon capable of cutting down anything she wanted gone.

Manah towered above you, tall and long limbed, in a black dress that dropped off her hips and hung loose around her calves, her straight red hair shifted slightly in the breeze coming from outside as she moved to pull at the silk gloves around her hands. She seemed annoyed. . . Angry even. After years you knew how to read her.

A smirk crossed your lips as you tilted your head slightly. “Aw, are my baby brothers causing you and your demons trouble again?” You knew you hit your mark when her jaw clenched. Of course you knew your brothers were still out there, whispers of the famed Winchester brothers passed through thin lips often around here. Manah wasn’t fond of them, they killed so many of her demons that she often took it out on you. This was gonna be one of those times.

Your words got you a harsh slap across the cheek before she knelt down in front of you, your cheeks squeezed between her thumb and forefinger. “You best hold your tongue. I got a job for you.”

“What kind of job? Because like I’ve said a thousand times over you vile skank; I’m done doing your dirty work.”

She squeezed harder much to your irritation. “Oh you know that’s not true. You, my darling Y/N, are my swift and terrible sword. . . And you are far from done.” Using her free hand she fished into the pocket of her dress, producing a thin silver chain, a rams head charm hanging from the center.

Your face fell along with your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Please don’t.”

Manah ignored you, snapping the necklace around your neck. It was her way of controlling you, as long as the necklace stayed on she held power over your body. You couldn’t take it off yourself, the magic it was laced with prevented it.

“Now, it’s time we got those pesky siblings of yours off the playing field, don’t you think? You’ve constantly asked me to allow you to go back to you family, well here’s your chance darling.”

That’s all it took for you to realize what she was doing. She was sending you after your brothers, and Manah didn’t take prisoners.

Now I must go alone Cause I need you there So my memory of home is full

SPN Taglist:

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @idksupernatural @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo @xoxoaudreymarie @greenarrowhead @mrsjenniferwinchester @mysticalfuncollectorus @brebolin @biahblue @noahandthegiraffe

HYMN Taglist:

@biahblue @brebolin @noahandthegiraffe @psych0crybaby @beetears @supernaturalenchanted @skyelikestowrite @leej2468 @vicmc624 @let-me-luve-you @lilwinchester67

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kaunis-sielu · 4 years

Text

Trouble

Your heels click beneath your feet as you strut your way into the building. Hair done perfectly, makeup highlighting your features in the best way possible, dress a little too risqué for court but the judge would hopefully look past it. Your purse with your files swings from your elbow and you breeze past the guards standing at the door. You’re a well known and respected attorney and your client is waiting.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Mob boss. Biker. Trouble maker extraordinaire. And most recently, fiancé.

Those blue eyes swing to your form as you make your way past the aisle of benches, he knows you wore this dress for him and a slow smile crosses his face.

“I was wondering if we’d be seeing you today.” Judge Rogers says with a small smirk as he eyes your apparel.

“Sorry for my tardiness Your Honor, I was gathering one last bit of evidence that was being particularly stubborn.” You give Bucky a sideways glance and his teeth clench. He knows you’re talking about Brock Rumlow, the reason he’s in the whole goddamn mess in the first place.

“What exactly is this evidence you’ve got?”

“I have proof that Mr. Barnes was not the one that killed Mr. Stark.” Judge Rogers eyebrows go up but he doesn’t say anything. “Your Honor, here is photographic evidence that Mr. Barnes was on a date at the time of the murder.” You pull out the file that was in your purse. The envelope has the photographic evidence,the photo with the back of your head and Bucky’s face. A clock on the far wall shows the time and date. Bucky is laughing, you’d been telling him a story about one of the law students you’re mentoring, Flash, who was a complete idiot.

“Who is this woman?”

“No idea Your Honor.” You tell him with a shrug, “but I do know who the actual killer is.”

The doors burst open again and in comes Sam with a bloody Rumlow trailing behind him.

“What’s this?”

“The stubborn evidence.” You say with the sweetest smile you can muster.

“The court usually frowns upon beating evidence out of people.” He says giving you a bemused look. Steve Rogers is no idiot.

“Beating? Judge Rogers, he fell down a flight of stairs on the way here. I can’t believe you would accuse me of such dirty work.” You continue sweetly before glancing over at Bucky again who is just keeping it together.

“Is that true Mr. Rumlow? Did you fall down a flight of stairs?”

“Yes Judge.” He says, it’s not technically a lie, he did fall down a flight of stairs, he may have been pushed first but you couldn’t be responsible if Rumlow had bad balance.

“So I’m assuming that this is the actual killer.” Judge Rogers says and you give him another winning smile as you nod.

“He’s willing to give a full confession and I have a written and signed one in that file Your Honor.” You tell him pointing one manicured finger at the file on the desk in front of him. The District attorney is gaping, his mouth open as he watches this all go down.

“Well, due to this new evidence Mr. Barnes, you’re free to go. Bailiff, take Mr. Rumlow into custody.” Judge Rogers says before hitting his gavel and standing.

“Objection Your Honor!” District attorney Pierce cries but thankfully Judge Rogers waves him off.

“I’ve made my decision, and this is a full confession. Did you get a full confession from Mr. Barnes Mr. Pierce?”

“No.” Pierce snaps glaring over at you. Bucky steps into his line of sight and glares back. You place a hand on his lower back, this is exactly what Pierce wants.

He’d already gotten Rumlow to flip and snitch on Bucky and his plans, unfortunately for them you’re better than the DA and had caught onto the fact that they were working together. All Pierce needs is an excuse to throw Bucky in prison and an assault charge would do just that.

“Buck, lets go.” You say softly and thankfully he heads down the aisle. “Do not speak to my client unless you have a warrant.” You sneer at Pierce on your way out. Bucky doesn’t say anything until you get into the car.

“God Doll, I love you.” He says before sealing his lips to yours. “You’re incredible.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Had to get you out of there somehow.” You tell him as he pulls you into his lap. “And really it was Rumlow’s fault you were in trouble in the first place.”

“True, thank you sweetheart.” He sighs heavily, “you know I have to have him killed right?”

“Just don’t tell me.” You tell him, “attorney client privilege only goes so far.”

“Alright,” Bucky agrees before nipping the skin at the curve of your neck.

“Buckle up.” Sam’s voice grouches from the driver’s seat and you chuckle softly as you slide onto the seat next to Bucky who growls at the loss. You buckle then curl into him the best you can. Bucky puts the partition up and you shoot him a smirk before you can do anything more he loops an arm around your neck and presses a hungry kiss to your lips.

“Missed you something fierce Sweetheart.” He coos before pressing open mouthed kisses down your neck. “Came into the courtroom like a goddamn queen. You shoulda heard the swear words that Pierce was grumblin’. I’ve never been so proud to hear someone talk so terribly about you.”

“Had to get you outta there and had to get rid of Rumlow.” You pants, his kisses setting your skin on fire.

“I was startin’ to worry Sweetheart.”

“Hard to marry a man in prison.” You tease him giving his hair a gentle tug. “If you go to prison I will not wait for you James Barnes.” You tell him darkly. But to your surprise he just laughs as he tightens his grip on you.

“Please Doll, we both know I’d break out.” He says and you laugh before kissing him again.

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ddaenggtan · 4 years

Text

monachopsis | knj x ksj

seokjin knows - has known, for years - that his life will be like this forever. there is no more sea, there is no more swimming, there is no more of anything he used to know. this is life - wake up, go to a shoot, try not to piss giho off, go home, sleep, wake up again. because he was caught. because giho owns him. because he can't.

but then he meets namjoon. and seokjin starts to realize that maybe...just maybe. he can.

pairing | namjin

rating | sfw (some swearing & violence, so T for teen)

wc | 5.7k | cross-posted to ao3

warnings | mild violence, allusions to violence and physical abuse, a very brief depiction of said abuse, non-sexual choking, non-sexual slavery in a way, selkie!jin, aquarium worker!joon, marine biologist!joon, model!jin

a/n | hi this is for fwl’s Luv Library project, for the Fantasy & Fairytales section, and its also the first mxm i’ve ever posted so it might be a Little Rough but i am very attached to these characters and also i Love Selkies SO you get selkie jin!!! special super shoutout to @personawife for reading through it and also giving me the title!!!! im luv u!!! i hope u like the surprise ending that you didn’t get to read bc it was a surprise!!!!!!! ALSO added shoutout to user @jamaisjoons for the SUPERB banner she made!!!!!!!! im in love!!!!!!!!!! sol i do not deserve u!!!!!!!!!!

He misses the sea, sometimes.

He misses the refracting light and the weightlessness and the bubbles. He aches for the days he could swim, for miles and miles and miles, without getting tired. He misses the way his hair would move in the water, the way it felt to lay in the sun to dry off, the warmth that came with it all.

Seokjin wraps his sweater more tightly around his torso and forces the thoughts away. Remembering gets him nowhere, he scolds himself. This is his life, now and forever, and he’s got to accept that if he wants to survive long enough to see the sea once more. He can do this. He’s strong enough for this.

The chill of the winter air is strong, too; it seeps into his bones and roots in them, lingering long after he’s made his way inside the studio. Giho is already there, berating some poor girl for her outfit choice. When he sees Seokjin he stops, waving at the intern. She runs out without even looking up.

“You’re late,” Giho says with a sneer. They both glance at the clock on the wall. 11:55.

“You said noon,” Seokjin responds. His tone is neutral, a carefully constructed skill that has saved his life many times over the years.

Giho tsks, likely because he can’t outright smack Seokjin with so many people around. Still, Seokjin can feel the old man’s eyes on him as he strips out of his clothes.

The cold is prominent against his naked skin, and it doesn’t ebb as he slides the new clothes on. Giho is already yelling again, at the stylist this time, and it’s a familiar background noise. It’s still going on when he gets on the set, face in the perfect mask that everyone seems to love.

The photographer barely needs to direct him; he and Taehyung have worked together for months now, and it only gets easier. Tae knows his best angles, his best lighting, how to highlight the cold expression he wears in shoots so the audience can interpret it their own way.

Seokjin doesn’t know where Giho found this kid, but Tae is lucky the old bastard can’t keep him.

“To the left,” Tae mutters, and Seokjin does so without a word.

The hours pass quickly. Between outfit changes and makeup retouches and actually shooting, the day flies. Before he even knows it, the clock is striking ten, and everyone is packing up.

Jin changes quickly back into his sweater, the ever-colder air chilling him once more. Giho is off to the side with Taehyung and the Artistic Director, Hoseok, all three of them conversing quietly as they look at the photos from today. There’s no need for Seokjin to look; he knows how he did because Giho’s hands are kept to themselves.

Checking again that they’re all suitably distracted, Seokjin turns to leave. He promptly stops, because he runs almost directly into someone coming through the door. Hands dart up to catch him, big and strong and warm as they wrap around his elbows for a second longer than they should, and there’s a muttered “Sorry,” from the guy in front of him.

“Careful, hyung,” Taehyung’s voice calls. “Don’t damage the moneymaker.”

Seokjin’s eyes meet the man’s - a warm brown, one that reminds him of chocolate and muddy snow and love - before he physically pulls himself away. He doesn’t have to look at Giho to know what he’s thinking, what his paranoia is telling him about, and Seokjin needs to be able to eat tonight.

“It’s fine,” Seokjin says in the same unaffected voice he always uses around sets. “Barely touched me.”

The man frowns - probably because Seokjin is lying - but he lets it go, and Seokjin is thankful for it. Small mercies.

“Jin,” Giho calls. He stops and turns. “Eleven, tomorrow.” He nods and leaves, ignoring the exhaustion in his bones and the familiar sorrow that fills his chest as he passes the all-too-familiar trunk by the door.

In the studio he leaves behind, Namjoon shares a look with his brother, who very minutely shakes his head. Namjoon knows that look, created that look to warn Tae off the ones that were more trouble that he could handle. Namjoon always wondered why his little brother never listened to that look.

As he and Taehyung head to dinner, passing billboard after poster after billboard with Jin’s face on it, Namjoon thinks he might understand.

The guy shows up more often. Seokjin knows his name, has said it a thousand times in his head over the weeks, but he won’t let himself acknowledge it. He can feel the guy’s stares on him, every time he arrives to get Tae at the same time Seokjin is running out the door after a shoot. He feels the interest, he’s intimately familiar with how it feels to have someone’s eyes running up and down his body, and he knows exactly what kind of danger that puts the both of them in.

Giho sees it too, he’s sure. That’s the most dangerous part of it, the thing that could be the end of them both. He hasn’t said anything - yet - but Jin is positive as he switches poses for Taehyung that Giho can tell.

He can tell that Namjoon - the guy , Jin corrects himself - is showing up earlier and earlier, more and more often, often hanging out beside the photo monitor and talking to Hoseok while he waits. That his eyes linger, long after the model is gone, and that they wonder, about everything. That he’s interested .

Seokjin doesn’t like to remember what happened to the last man that was interested in him.

It’s pouring rain. There’s a fog over the city that clouds vision and hushes conversation. There’s damp in the air, a wetness that seeps into each breath and covers the earth in its scent. It’s like a blanket over everything, making it all grey and dark and quiet, and Seokjin lives for it.

It reminds him of the sea. How it would churn and darken and crash before a storm. The way the salt spray would hit the ice, the smell of the lightning in the air, the way he could just let it carry him wherever it wanted him to go.

He stands outside the studio. Giho left hours before, for some important networking dinner. He’d tried to drag Seokjin along with him, until Taehyung offhandedly mentioned needing to reshoot a couple things. Giho had sneered and stormed out and that was that.

Now he stands outside, in the rain, with his back against the building. The trunk is just on the other side of the wall; it lingers in the back of his mind, taunting. He can feel it. He knows it’s there.

It’s a testament to how thorough Giho is in his punishments that Seokjin doesn’t attempt to claw it open and instead just tips his head back, eyes closed, basking in the water soaking his sweater and the pull he can feel in his stomach.

He should be swimming.

“Do you need a ride?”

Seokjin doesn’t even open his eyes; he knows the voice. Has spent too long hearing it murmur on the sidelines of photoshoots, has watched its owner as his lips form words he isn’t supposed to listen to.

He should ignore it. That’s what Giho would warn him to do.

“Jin?”

He flutters his lids open, casting a glance at where Namjoon and Taehyung stand. Taehyung has his camera out, and Seokjin has no doubt he’s already snapped a few photos of their surroundings out of habit.

“I’m fine,” he says softly. His voice is slightly hoarse from disuse, but Namjoon doesn’t even flinch. Taehyung is fiddling with his camera, oblivious to the way Namjoon’s eyes search Seokjin’s face for the lie he won’t find.

The rain is the only solace that Seokjin gets; he cherishes these nights. He won’t cut it short, especially not for a human.

“I’m fine,” He repeats. Against his better judgement, he continues, “I enjoy the rain. It’s refreshing.”

“Refreshing…” Namjoon echoes quietly. Neither of them speak, for a long moment; Namjoon continues to look for any sign that Seokjin is lying, and Seokjin continues to pretend the streaks on his cheeks are from the raindrops.

“Walk Jin home.”

They both turn at that, to where Taehyung has his camera pressed to his eye as he frames some shots. When he’s finished, and there’s been no response, Taehyung looks at them both.

“It’s bad weather,” Taehyung explains, “On a dark night. It’d be rude of us to let you walk home alone when anything could be lurking in the shadows.”

Namjoon looks at Seokjin, practically begging for him to agree. He should say no. He should walk himself the ten blocks to his apartment, and pretend neither of them ever said anything, and continue on with his life. Giho would go berserk if he ever found out, would never allow it, would do everything he could to prevent it.

“Sure,” Seokjin says. He’s tired of doing what Giho wants. He’s tired of being without the sea, being kept landlocked with just the rain to remind him of home. “It’s this way.”

Namjoon and Taehyung share a look, but Seokjin pays it no mind as he heads down the street.

The rain is coming down in sheets, and his clothes are soaked. They rest heavy against his skin, and it just makes Seokjin miss the ocean more. He misses how it felt to be weightless, constantly; to feel so powerful and strong and capable. He never feels that way on land.

“How long have you been a model?” Namjoon eventually asks. For a moment - a split second - Seokjin considers ignoring him. It’s what Giho would demand he do.

“Too long,” He says instead.

“You don’t enjoy it?” Namjoon asks, surprised. Seokjin shakes his head, just slightly.

“I do, it’s just…” He searches for the words. He can’t tell anyone about it, has no one to talk to, no one that would believe him. He’s never even felt the urge to share it. Until now. “It’s not what I would have picked for myself.”

Namjoon is silent beside him, and Seokjin can feel the question on the tip of his tongue. He’s going to ask why he does it, why he would bother being a model if it isn’t what he wants to do, and then Seokjin will be forced to come up with an excuse.

“What would you have picked?” Namjoon asks instead.

It brings all of the thoughts in his head to a standstill; all the worry and anxiety and stress stops, distracted by the thought that he had wanted, once upon a time. It takes a long time for Seokjin to find words, to find something that could translate into human language.

“To swim,” He says simply. “To be in the ocean, or with my family. Something.”

“You aren’t with your family?”

“No.” He debates how much to say, but eventually, Seokjin decides, fuck it . He’s been quiet for long enough, and something about Namjoon is comforting, and soothing, and encouraging. “I lost them, when I was very young.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon says, and Seokjin thinks he actually means it, even if he doesn’t know the real truth of the matter. How Seokjin strayed too far from them, despite the warnings he’d been given his entire life. How he wanted to stretch human legs and snuck away and got caught by someone that recognized the coat drying on a rock and what he was.

How Giho locked it away, for years, and forced Seokjin to be his ticket to wealth.

“So am I.”

It becomes an irregularly regular thing, Namjoon walking him home.

He can’t do it every night. They’re both too aware of the way Giho watches them, though for different reasons. Namjoon doesn’t know what Giho has done to others in his position, the lengths he’s gone to ensure Seokjin stays his.

But the nights when he can, when Giho leaves for some dinner or event or something and Taehyung can come up with a believable excuse...those are the nights that Seokjin starts looking forward to.

He learns so much about Namjoon - that he studied marine biology in school, got his doctorate in it as soon as he could; that he visits his parents’ grave every Wednesday morning, leaves flowers for them when he has the money; that he wants to travel the world and help endangered species everywhere, wants to take Taehyung with him as a nature photographer; that he’s the best man Seokjin has ever known with the biggest heart and the most patience that he’s ever seen.

Namjoon doesn’t question why Seokjin only ever gives vague answers, or skirts around mentions of where he comes from, or why he doesn’t have a phone. He doesn’t ask Seokjin to let him up into the apartment, or answer his questions, or explain why he stays at arm’s length despite leaning closer because Namjoon is warm.

He doesn’t question any of it, and it makes Seokjin’s heart flutter dangerously in his chest, and it means that when Namjoon asks if he has a free day anytime soon, Seokjin only hesitates for a second before he responds.

“Giho has a business trip coming up,” he tells Namjoon. “As long as we have three full shoots, he won’t suspect anything.”

“Will you come with me?” Namjoon asks. “I just want to distract you for the day. I’ve seen your life, what you do, so much. I’d like to show you mine, if you’ll let me.”

He should say no. He shouldn’t go with him, he should say no, and stop letting Namjoon walk him home, and let Giho move them across the country again.

“Sure.”

The day comes. Seokjin dresses nicer, though he’ll never admit it. A nice button-down, black slacks, hair styled, sunglasses to combat the glare in the sky. Giho is gone for three days - three marvelous, liberated days - and Seokjin can use that time to come up with a believable excuse if he’s recognized.

Namjoon looks like he always does - warmth and welcome and strength. It settles in Seokjin’s chest the second he sees Namjoon, and he wonders if this is what people meant when they say they found home in someone.

He doesn’t ask Namjoon where they’re going; just follows him onto the subway, and off, and on, and off again, listening to him talk about this cafe and that bookstore and the busker on the corner. He gets the full experience of Namjoon’s commute, and he couldn’t be more in love with him.

With it. He’s in love with it , the commute, seeing what other people do each day. That’s all, because that’s all he can let himself have.

When they arrive, Seokjin stares. He doesn’t know why he didn’t know, why he didn’t put the pieces together from all the times Namjoon has mentioned his work and his degree, but he didn’t...he didn’t think , didn’t even consider, and now he stands on the sidewalk, staring at the large building, and Namjoon is waiting for him.

“Seokjin?” He asks softly. “We can turn around right now.”

He looks at Namjoon - really looks at him. Takes in the nice turquoise shirt and the cuffed slacks and the dress shoes, the glasses that are so thick Seokjin wonders how he sees without them at all, the way there’s already disappointment clouding the acceptance in his eyes.

“No,” He says. “No, it’s fine. Let’s go.”

He shouldn’t be here, his mind tells him throughout each exhibit. Not just because of Giho this time, but for himself.

Namjoon is so excited about each exhibit, telling him about each creature as they go through. He mentions how each one has its own name, though they get confused sometimes for the larger populations. How so many have been released into the wild successfully, how so many have been rebuilt and are on the brink of non-endangered status.

He talks about the sharks, and how Louise and Wheein haven’t been getting along, but that Yari and Chainsaw are expecting a pup soon; he talks about the penguins and how Potato keeps stealing extra fish but he does it to give to Frenchie, so they let him get away with it; he talks about the jellyfish, and the rays, and the octopuses, and everyone and everything, and it’s nearly too much for Seokjin, but he manages.

He gets through nearly the entire aquarium, exhausted but content with the happy grin on Namjoon’s face, but he stops, because Namjoon has mentioned Maple throughout the entire trip, has talked about her before. Seokjin knows Maple’s history better than his own, almost, but he never realized…

Now he does. He watches as Maple dives back down off the landing, flipping and turning in the water. They stand in a viewing area, a room long and tall and tinted blue with the water at the bottom of the tank. It gives way to land halfway up, is more than generous for the lone animal that dances through the water.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Namjoon asks. “She’s the one we’re working hardest with. Hawaiian monk seals are critically endangered, so when she was brought in as a pup, she took first priority. We’re doing everything we can to get her back up to breeding standards. She keeps getting sick, though, and no pregnancy has been viable so far.”

Seokjin doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even blink. He doesn’t know this seal, not really; she’s just a seal, she’s not like him, she’s not even the same species, but a human wouldn’t know that. Especially not a human like Namjoon, completely out of the loop on all of it.

“She wants to be free.”

He can see it when Namjoon turns to look at him, confused. Watches the reflection in the glass as closely as he watches Maple’s mourning dance.

“Her environment is larger than most,” Namjoon says. “She’s got plenty of room to swim and we’ve got activity sets throughout so she’s mentally stimulated as well. She eats, probably more than she should, and-”

“A cage is still a cage, no matter how pretty it is.” Seokjin can see it, can hear Maple’s call, can feel it in his very soul as the urge to respond grows. She spots them standing there and swims closer, and Seokjin places a hand on the glass wall. “She wants to be back in the ocean.”

“It’s dangerous for her there,” Namjoon says quietly. He says it like he knows, like he’s always known, what she needs, but doesn’t want to admit it. “There isn’t enough food, humanity keeps taking their territory...she’s sick. She wouldn’t survive out there.”

Better to die free than spend eternity in a cage, Seokjin thinks bitterly. He takes a breath and reminds himself that Namjoon cares. He’s helping, in the only way that he knows how.

Maple spins when she spots Namjoon, clearly excited, but when her eyes land on Seokjin, she stills.

“Ah, she’s not always friendly to strangers, so…” Namjoon trails off. His reflection shows his jaw slack, open in a surprised o , because he’s wrong, this time.

Maple lets out a whistle - long, and low, and haunting in the stillness of the building. Her nose is nearly against the glass, she’s so close, and she looks straight into him. She sees him, recognizes him for what he is, and uses the call.

Seokjin can feel the snap as his soul breaks; what little was left of him shatters, into pieces. He can’t return her call, he can’t tell her that he sees, that he knows what she’s feeling and will do what he can to help her, because he can’t . He can’t help her, he has no way to save her from her cage because he’s stuck in his own.

She must see it, somehow, because her song trails off, and Seokjin hates himself. He hates himself for being here, for allowing himself to get close to Namjoon when he can’t, for not being able to even hear her song the way it deserves to be heard.

“Hey,” Namjoon calls, soft and quiet. His thumb brushes hesitantly along Seokjin’s cheek, carrying a tear with it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“I’m fine,” Seokjin tells him. “I’ve got to be up early tomorrow, to do the shoots, so I’m gonna head home.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

He turns on his heel and walks out, ignoring Namjoon’s question entirely. He can’t lie right now, he does want Namjoon with him, but he can’t. It’s too dangerous, and seeing Maple just reminded him of it.

He can’t let Namjoon get hurt just because he makes Seokjin feel marginally better.

In his wake, Namjoon sighs. He turns to Maple, wishing he was up top in his wetsuit so he could run his fingers through her fur the way she likes. Her eyes are big and sad, more so than usual, and Namjoon thinks maybe he understands her for the first time.

“I’ll try,” He tells her. “I’ll try.”

Weeks pass. Months fly by. Shoot after shoot after shoot gets published, and Giho rakes in the cash from them. Seokjin stays in his small apartment, watching the light reflect rainbows through the window pane. He stopped letting Namjoon walk him home when Giho got back, and nearly ripped part of Seokjin’s hair out with fury that he’d gone out.

The only reason it wasn’t worse is because Seokjin managed to convince him that it was promo for the upcoming swimwear collection, and good press about the humanitarian efforts of the label.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Namjoon stopped showing up after a few days. Seokjin refuses to ask Taehyung why, because he shouldn’t care. He can’t care. Not with Giho hovering over his shoulder at every turn.

One day, for some reason, things change. Giho gets less certain, more fidgety. Starts looking over his own shoulder. Stops threatening Seokjin with every glance.

Stops glancing altogether.

It just makes Seokjin worry more; if the one in charge is afraid of something, everyone else should be as well. That was the first lesson his mother taught him.

Seokjin gathers his things. Packs them all back into his suitcase, keeps a single change of clothes out and starts washing them every day. Giho looks ready to run, and Seokjin knows by now that he needs to be ready when it happens if he wants to keep any of his things.

Then Giho disappears.

Giho disappears for a while .

He doesn’t take Seokjin with him. He just disappears one night, when everything is quiet and still. The calendar is still booked with shoots, so Seokjin just keeps working. One night, he and Taehyung go out for Korean BBQ. The entire week after that, Seokjin expects Giho to pop up and berate him for doing anything that isn’t working, but it never comes.

A few weeks later, they go on a day trip to a mountain and walk the trails together while Taehyung takes pictures. Neither of them mention Giho or Namjoon or anything except the way the leaves fall.

Life goes on. For months, Seokjin begins tiptoeing across the line. He goes out more often. The time between shoots gets longer and longer, and Seokjin begins to enjoy things. He goes to see movies, and shopping, and eating, and travelling. He starts doing the things he wants to do.

He sees Namjoon again.

They get dinner together, whenever they’re both free. It starts with Taehyung inviting him for drinks, and turns into them meeting each other at the cafe on the corner that makes the good boba. They talk for what could be hours, or what could be minutes. Seokjin never knows, because everything else seems to stop when he’s with Namjoon.

He says as much as he can, as much as he dares, but it never seems like it’s enough. Namjoon takes what Seokjin gives him, more than happy to be included again, but they both know that there’s a time limit on it. Still, Seokjin fools himself into thinking that it’s become an if , instead of being a when .

He fools himself into thinking that this can be his life.

It takes almost four months. It’s been nearly a year since Seokjin first met Namjoon - he refuses to acknowledge that he remembers the day. Giho returns in a whirlwind.

He interrupts the shoot, throws the clothes around, breaks some mannequins, it’s all out war on the set, and they all watch silently. The only thing that keeps him from breaking Taehyung’s camera is the look on the younger’s face when Giho goes for it.

But of course, nothing lasts forever. He spots Seokjin, sitting as still as a statue in the makeup chair, and that’s the beginning of the end. He recognizes the feral rage in God's eyes, has seen it barely contained too many times before, and he’s clearly not holding back this time.

He has Seokjin on the ground, under his shoe, with a cane against his throat when the door opens. The others have tried to help, but Giho is surprisingly adept with a cane when he wants to be, and as such, no one has gotten close. But Seokjin can guess what time it is, he knows in his bones who just walked in, and he refuses to let this happen.

“You,” Giho hisses. The pressure on Seokjin’s throat disappears as Giho stands; the model coughs, several times, choking down air even as his hand darts out to wrap around his owner’s ankle.

The elder crumples to the ground, kicking at Seokjin’s steel grip, but it’s useless, because Seokjin is tired.

He is tired of being afraid of a bitter old man. He is tired of being without the sea. He is tired of not allowing himself to be happy.

He’s on top of Giho before he even realizes he’s moved, prying the cane from his hands and holding it steady over Giho’s windpipe. He doesn’t press down, not yet; just holds it there, like the threat it is.

“You will not hurt him,” Seokjin commands. “And you will run, as far as you can get. You will run to the ends of the earth, and then, God willing, you will run further. You will leave your wealth and your fame and everything I have made for you, and if you dare to show your face among humanity again…”

“What?” Giho spits, a smirk growing on his face. “What is a defenseless little pup like you going to do?”

Seokjin leans down, letting the cane choke the man below him as he drops his voice. “I will find my brethren, and I will tell them what you have done. They will spread your story far and wide, across every ocean, over every continent, and when they find you, they will remind you why we are considered predators.”

He sits back, letting the cane go and allowing air back into his lungs. He stands on his own two feet, the legs that have carried him for so long, and he looks around.

“This shoot is over,” Seokjin says. “Everyone get out.”

The people scramble, even Taehyung gathers his things to leave, and the room is empty in seconds. Only he and Giho remain.

The elder lies on the floor, still catching his breath, as Seokjin tosses the cane across the room. He looks around, spots an old iron trash can from a shoot last month, and starts toward it.

“It won’t do you any good,” Giho says. Seokjin ignores him and hefts the can up, carrying it across the room. “You won’t get anywhere. You can’t just disappear, not when the world knows your face.”

“Maybe so,” Seokjin says as he positions himself. “But at least I’ll have the choice.”

He brings the iron can down with all his strength. There’s a colossal crash as it connects with the old padlock, and it only gets louder with the next one. It takes seven hits for the lock to break, and the sound of it clattering to the floor isn’t one he’s likely to forget.

When he opens the trunk, however, it’s empty.

“I told you,” Giho hisses triumphantly. “It won’t do any good.”

Seokjin resists the urge to curse under his breath and forces himself not to sob as he looks back at Giho.

“Then it won’t do you any good either.”

The sand is warm beneath his feet. The setting sun paints the sky a myriad of colors, orange turning into red bleeding into purple shifting into blue curling into black, all of it reflected in the cool water below. The tang of salt wafts in with every breath he takes, and just confirms that this is right.

“Thanks for meeting me,” Namjoon says from behind him. Seokjin didn’t hear him approach, but he didn’t need to. He knows Namjoon won’t hurt him.

“Thanks for calling,” Seokjin responds. He feels the tide tickle his toes, and he knows that this is best. “I actually wanted to tell you something.”

“I think I should go first,” Namjoon’s voice is firm, but hesitant. Like he doesn’t want to say what he’s saying. Seokjin turns, frowning slightly when he sees the other. Namjoon looks troubled, looks like he would rather be anywhere else, and that doesn’t bode well for Seokjin.

Still, he gestures for Namjoon to continue.

“Tae pointed it out,” Namjoon eventually says. “He mentioned how you looked at it, and thought maybe...maybe it had passports or something inside, something you could use to get away. So when he left, and we thought he might not come back...I opened it.”

A weight settles in Seokjin’s throat.

“Opened what?”

“The trunk,” Namjoon says. “I broke in and I picked the lock and...I didn’t know it was...I didn’t think he had it….” He sighs and pulls his hands from behind his back, and there it is.

Seokjin’s coat.

It’s silky and smooth and soft and perfect and exactly as he remembers it. It’s bigger now, grown with him, and the sight of it in the light is enough to bring tears to his eyes.

“He had some kind of alert on the trunk,” Namjoon continues, “So when I opened it he knew. That’s why he came back. I didn’t know he would come back.”

“Namjoon…” Seokjin looks at him, eyes wide and tear-filled, and for the first time since they met, Seokjin is scared. His life is here, right in front of him, but he doesn’t know if he can have it.

Because now Namjoon knows. He knows what Seokjin is, he’s fully aware that Seokjin can’t leave without the coat in Namjoon’s hands. He could keep him forever, just as Giho intended to do.

“I didn’t know,” Namjoon says again. “Or I wouldn’t have taken you to the aquarium. I wouldn’t have done that to you, I wouldn’t have hurt you like that, and I am... so sorry, Seokjin. I’m so sorry that I did that to you, I-”

“Namjoon, you didn’t know-”

“But now I do.” Namjoon sniffles slightly, and his hands shake, but he extends them, holding the coat out to Seokjin. “And I’m sorry.”

Seokjin’s fingers curl in the fur, almost reverently, as he takes it. It’s still warm, and it feels like water in his hands, and it’s everything he’s missed in his life.

“Namjoon, I…” He trails off, because there’s nothing he could say. No words fit this gift, this release; there’s nothing he could say that would properly convey the emotions building in Seokjin’s chest.

“I know,” Namjoon says. “You’re not in a cage anymore. You’re free to go and do what you want to do.”

Seokjin strips his sweater off and wraps his sealskin around his shoulders. It’s the perfect size for him, exactly what he needs, and when he crashes waist-deep into the surf, it keeps him warm.

He turns, though. Namjoon stands on the shore, just out of reach of the tide, and watches him. There’s a smile on his face, small and sad, and Seokjin wants nothing more than to wipe it from his lips, but he can’t.

Because he’s free.

He turns, wrapping the skin tighter around his shoulder. When he gets under the water, he can feel it in his hair and he can feel the water against his tail and he’s almost home.

But something is missing.

There’s warmth and weightlessness and the setting sun painting the water a rainbow , but the buzz in Seokjin’s chest isn’t full. There’s something not right, something not quite perfect about this moment that he’s been dreaming of for years, and he can’t figure out what.

Namjoon stares at the horizon, wondering how far Seokjin has already gone. He sends up a small wish, a hope, that Seokjin can live his life, free and happy and himself. That he can find his family, see his pod again.

His heartbeat turns painful, something constricting his chest and making it difficult to breathe, so he turns away. The crash of the waves covers the sound of his shaky breath, because of course, of course , he would find love in a man that couldn’t stay.

Fingers tangle in his own and Namjoon turns, shocked, to see a wet Seokjin, hair damp with his sealskin around his waist.

“W-What-”

“I can’t,” Seokjin says softly. “I can’t go back, I can’t find them, I don’t know how to do that without…”

He trails off and Namjoon stares because this is it, he thinks. This is everything he’s been waiting for his entire life, here, right in front of him. He just has to let himself have it.

Seokjin’s hand pulls away from his and Namjoon mourns the loss for the brief moment it takes for the selkie to pull his sealskin off and place it carefully in Namjoon’s arms.

“Namjoon,” He says, voice hushed and serious, “I want you to...because I…”

He’s never Seokjin this unsure, this at a loss, and the way he keeps starting sentences that have no end is undeniably endearing. But he can feel Seokjin’s growing frustration at his inability to articulate his thoughts, so he just smiles.

“I know,” Namjoon says. He takes the coat and places it back in Seokjin’s hands, covering them with his own. The heat from their skin combines and warms Namjoon straight to the core. “And I love you too.”

#ficswithluv #fwl project #luv library #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #namjin fanfic #namjin fluff #namjin angst #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #jin fanfic #jin fluff #jin angst #rm fanfic #seokjin fanfic #mxm bts fanfic #ddaenggtan

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sweet-xoxo-thatcares · 3 years

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I feel like I have so many doors,

I don't know which ones to choose. But all of them I know which ones I wanna try learning and doing. Cause why not? Why keep imagining it? Nothing holding me back anymore, not even me. Except probably the fat, but that's insecurity. I'm not afraid to say what I am anymore or what I want to do in life. when ppl ask me and they say "ok weirdo"

I won't get offended anymore. I'll tell them and walk away. Lol its uselesss to please ppl, they'll always look for something else for you to do for them. Cause ppl who aren't pleased with themselves, aren't pleased with the world. And sadly that means everyone else in their worlds, will know exactly what I'm talking about until they stop caring too.

Its not you, its them. Be who you want to be it, and it won't matter. I t won't make sense to some, but who do you have to prove? Nobody except you and God.

Now go out there, sign up for dance classes, go back to school or don't got to school; the world is your education.

The school of life has hard knocks, it'll make you fall hard, deep in the asshole to a desecrating pulp, it'll push you out if you let it. You have the power the whole time, you do have control over your life, its just the resources, the connects, the opportunities wee see...you need to take advantage, take heed, but don't hurt other people to take advantage and be the better stead.

Life's not a competition. What's the rush? Is it a race between you and your past or between you and your future?

Who do you wanna be? What do you wanna look like, now, in this present moment?

What do your hands say, who do you see in the mirror? What have you learned so far? How far you wanna go in life? The average expectancy for a black man is in his 80's. Im going for 102, cause its similar to my birthday. I will be the funniest grandma ever.

I'm not gonna be old and alone after my music career. And yea, I'm doing it. I'm not gonna be afraid because my face doesn't look like everyone else's. I'm not gonna let the beauty standards of the world stop me from feeling pretty or feeling smart or feeling beautiful about myself. But I am gonna lose weight. I am getting stronger. And I will be better.

I will become a teacher, an artist, a painter, a producer, a sound foley artist, a musician, model, photographer, photography shoot director, video game designer, animator, a singer, pianist, drummer, violinist, guitarist, trumpet player, saxophone, therapist, counselor, pilot, driver, speed-racer, gardener, business owner, hotel/inn/airbnb/b&b owner, wood carver, car detail artist, shoe designer for plus size women with big feet, pyrographist, graffiti artist, poet, writer, journalist, korean/international music producer, illustrator, a house builder, an architect, treehouse builder, a mother, a herbal medicine maker, sex toy producer, mixologist, board game maker, movie theatre owner, sailor, music video director, movie director, costume maker, set designer, dancer, gymnast or at least try gymnastics, mma/martial artist, kickboxer, football player, basketball/soccer/volleyball/lacrosse player, track runner, 420/cbd grower, florist, party designer, interior designer, world traveller, volunteer, shelter worker, deep dive swimmer, tattoo artist, body painter, t-shirt maker, pottery maker, art teacher/music teacher, a healer, a spiritual therapist, relationship/marriage counselor, sex therapist.

I've always wanted to make a summer program for girls too. Those helped me when I was younger in florida and barely even spoke to anybody.

Omg, I just heard my heart say "I want a boy" and I've never said that before. What would my son's name be?

I used to be afraid of having kids and being a mother because I was afraid I would do it wrong? Like overthinking the worst because of what happened to me...

I know God will bring the best parts out of me and pour it into the seed of my son or a daughter if the genes come out to be that way.

I wish I wasn't such a cynic, but I know that will change too in a more positive attitude once I get my own beach house. Its been my dream to live by the water. Have a lakehouse too in the forest, with our own boat....whoever that person I'm supposed to be with at the time its made to be so.

Letting go of Jay and my dream to be married to them and their S.O, really did open me up to more possibilities. Better achievements.

I wouldn't have gone back to school to get my masters in psychology had I not met them and got mistreated that much.

Im glad I didn't stay in Flint just to be near them. God intended it for me the leave. I will look at the burn on my hand from that day with my mom, as a reflection to never let the heat of the matter overcome me to where I'm not who I am anymore. Be quick to listen, slow to respond, and slow to anger as He said in the bible.

I shall do all these things through Christ that strengthen me and more. There's so much more I wanna do, I wanna learn, explore, and give a whole bunch to the world to see and inspire. Yea I hope I inspire others and comfort them through their pain. Im a lover, a giver, a healer, with a heart of gold. Nobody can break that. I have visions and messages from Him to share. God knows my eyes have seen and heard many things and stories to tell. I write about them and continue to do so.

So I let these people in my life who have took me away from myself and I came right back where I started.

But I learned who I am now. And they love me too. We'll always remember each other, no matter what. I won't forget you.

Trust me I've tried a 1,000 times already lol 😁 Good luck to you both.

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buckyskorpion · 4 years

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tess brain go hnnnnnnngh

hello this is only thing ive written in like a week and its for a new fic im SORRY but i thought i would post it anyway bc i have nothing else to offer hehe. it’s the beginning of my fic for laur’s writing challenge and boy oh boy has this morphed into it’s own beast. under the cut for those who dont care

“You know she’s not going to be happy about this,” Sam says.

“She’s never happy about anything,” Bucky replies. He flicks at a photograph pinned to your corkboard, your arm around some guy kissing your temple while you grin at the camera. There’s a bunch of photos just like it with the same dude; receding hairline, squinty blue eyes, tall but skinny in a vaguely malnourished way. One photo from what looks like a Halloween party catches his interest. You have a cardboard sign hanging over your shoulders to look like a square from the periodic table, and it reads ‘AH! The element of surprise’. Nerds, Bucky thinks with a scowl, and turns away from the corkboard.

Your office is nothing like he thought it would be, and that aggravates him. It’s hardly surprising - most things about you aggravate him. You have statues of Star Wars characters on your desk, a dying pot plant in the corner, books on quantum mechanics and Deutsch propositions left open and scribbled in on the coffee table. There’s too much personality left carelessly lying around, and none of it is yours. Bucky can’t wait to get the hell out of here.

Sharon walks in first, closing the door softly behind her and shoots them both a grimace. “She’s coming, but, uh- she’s not happy about this.”

“See?” Sam says, gesturing to Sharon as if she’s proving his point when Bucky agreed with him. He turns to face Sam lounging in the armchair on the other end of the room and flicks him the finger.

“Let’s try and contain this situation, shall we?” Sharon says. She’s nervous, Bucky notes, moving to stand in the middle of the room and smoothing down non-existent creases in her slacks. She refuses to look at Bucky, and that gives him a bad feeling. “Just listen to her yell for a bit. Bucky - let us do the talking, ok?”

Sharon is still not looking at him. Bucky nods instead of replying, baiting her to glance over, which she does. She trains her eyes on his nose and gives him a frankly insulting smile of recognition, immediately turning back to the door as her face drops. Bucky’s bad feeling intensifies.

Before he can try and figure out why one of the best Agents of SHIELD and former CIA operative can’t seem to pretend everything is fine, the door to the office slams open. It bounces back, smacks you in the shoulder as you storm into the room, and you push it back again with an aggravated shout. Sam rolls his lips together to smother his laugh but Bucky doesn’t bother. You turn a murderous glare onto him, and the shouting begins.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” You march up to Sharon and jab a finger in her chest, forcing her back a step. “You gave me this job, why the hell are you coming in here fucking it all up?”

“We have some new developments,” Sharon says, keeping her voice even like she’s trying to placate a feral dog. It does not have the desired effect.

“Ever thought of picking up the phone?” you shout, throwing your hands wide. “Sending a text? A letter? A carrier pigeon? Anything but showing up to my six month long deep cover mission with two of the most recognisable faces on the fucking planet! Really, Sharon? Captain America?”

“She’s right, y’know,” Sam says, smiling through Sharon’s warning glare. “My face is pretty unforgettable.”

“It’s good to see you, Sam” you say, gritting your teeth like it physically pains you to derail your tirade for some niceties. “You should’ve left Barnes at home.”

“I offered to stay in the car,” Bucky says. He smiles, all teeth, and you poke your tongue out at him.

“Do you know how difficult it has been to be stuck here playing dumb with this bunch of incels for six fucking months?” You say, spinning away from Sharon now to open the small fridge in the corner. You pull out one of those mini bottles of whiskey and down half of it, baring your teeth at the sting. “Please don’t make it all for nothing or I will kill you all, and then myself.”

“The timeline has moved up,” Sharon says. She shakes her head when you offer her the rest of your whiskey and you shrug, chugging the remaining half. Sam makes an offended noise and you grab another one, chucking it towards him as he makes grabby hands. Bucky doesn’t even bother asking.

“That’s funny, because as far as I remember it’s me who sets the timeline,” you say. “And I say it’s staying exactly the fucking same.”

“Look, I know this has been a rough mission-“

“Rough? I am watching a bunch of psychopathic virgins reinvent time travel at a snails pace whilst entertaining their neo-nazi purist ideals and I haven’t been able to physically hurt any of them? Rough is an understatement.” you say.

“Sounds terrible,” Bucky says with an eye roll. Everyone in the room turns to glare at him.

“I’d like to see you spend one day with these scumbags,” you seethe, stepping forward with your teeth bared.

“Something tells me it can’t be any worse than having my brain fried by Nazi’s, sweetheart,” Bucky says. You hate when he condescends you like that, and Bucky knows it. You make to throw the empty mini-whiskey bottle at him but Sharon steps in-between you two, holding her hands up with a disappointed frown.

“Bucky, you were supposed to leave the talking to us,” Sharon says. She turns to you and adds, “And you would do well to remember that I’m your boss, agent. I give the orders.”

“Aw, let them fight,” Sam says from the armchair. “It’ll be fun.”

“Enough,” Sharon says. She claps her hands together to regain control of the room, but it’s tenuous. To you, she says, “We need you to speed up __________’s research. Find a way, I don’t care how, but in a month they need to figure out Stark’s theory of time travel.”

“Excuse me?” You glance between Sharon, Sam, and Bucky like someone can offer an explanation but no one does. Incredulously, you say, “I’ve been here slowing them down so they don’t figure it out, and now you want me to- speed them along? Give them the answer?”

“Yes,” Sharon says. Her eyes are saying something else to only you and Bucky aches to know what it is. “Sam and Bucky have come across some new intel that requires the _____ to finish their machine. We need you to help them get there in one month’s time.”

“Am I allowed to know this new, game-changing intel?” you ask. There’s a muscle ticking in your jaw that looks set to explode any second.

“Only that there is someone who is very interested in buying into what the ________ come up with,” Sharon says. “When you’ve completed your mission, you will be fully briefed.”

“Oh, great,” you say with an eyeroll. “I love ambiguity.”

“You’re a spy,” Sam says, staring at you. “That’s literally your entire life.”

“Can we focus?” Sharon asks, shooting Sam a warning glare to which he holds his hands up in a Gesture of innocence. To you, she asks, “Do you understand your mission?”

“No,” you say simply, turning away from Sam to have a silent conversation with Sharon that involves a lot of eyebrow movements. Softly, as if no one else in the room can hear you, you say, “You know why I can’t let them figure it out.”

Sam and Bucky share a look while the two spies in the room have some kind of telepathic argument. It doesn’t seem to last long. Once again, the bad feeling in Bucky’s gut returns when you look to the floor and don’t make eye-contact with any of them again. As per usual in Bucky’s life there are things left unsaid, omitted by silence, and he itches to know what has your shoulders rounding and the fight you always fling around like confetti, dying out as quickly as it flared up.

“The goal remains the same,” Sharon says, “but as I said, the timeline has changed. We will see you in a month or so, agent.”

“I guess you will,” you say. Sam claps you on the shoulder as he walks out and Sharon hands you a dossier with your new mission parameters. Bucky always feels awkward with goodbyes, especially with people he doesn’t particularly like and who don’t like him in return. You glare at your toes and say, “Don’t even think about touching me, Barnes.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks past you and adds, “Don’t fuck it up.”

“You’ll know if I do,” you bite back, just as the door closes behind him. Your words follow him down the hall, past the laboratories blinking with dull red security lights and the fire exit door they left chocked open when they broke in. He doesn’t like the way that sits in his brain. It clunks around, tinkering with things he’d rather leave untouched.

Spies, Bucky thinks. They always find a way to get inside his head.

#we love dialogue in this house #also help me name the terrorist group lmao

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sincerelymarinette · 4 years

Text

A Recorded Life (40/50) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 2097 Chapter Summary: With an Akuma on the loose, Chat Noir is not with the team and needs to be there, so Ladybug must find him. Later, they record an "official" video for their new announcement. Author's Note: I loved this chapter. Also, Ladrien!! Just a little, but it's there :) We're almost to the gala and I'm HYPE

Prev / Next / Masterlist

The NewlyCoupled Game

---

7 days until the gala

The Akuma hadn't even broken anything yet. They were just chasing it across the city, keeping distance, and following. Typically, they liked to show off their powers and be as loud as they can. But this one was different, just flying throughout the sky and leading them through Paris.

Ladybug, Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Queen Bee were following and have been for ten minutes now. They jumped on rooftops to follow the Akuma, and they aren't even sure if the Akuma knew they were following- or if they cared.

"Anyone see Chat?" Ladybug asked.

The other three didn't respond. "I thought he would be with you," Queen Bee replied.

Ladybug shook their head as they continued running and talking. "Not today, he had a mandatory photoshoot that he had to agree to. His photographer must not be letting him leave," Ladybug sighed and stopped running. "Since the Akuma hasn't done anything, you guys good with just following for now? I know where his photoshoot is, and I can grab him. Nowadays, we can't finish the job without a cataclysm."

"We should be okay," Rena Rouge told her. "The Akuma hasn't even done anything. It will give us time to figure it out, and you can go save your prince."

"Besides, if we get in any trouble, I've got my shell-ter!" Carapace winked.

"Okay, sounds good. I'll call when I'm on my way back," Ladybug said and yo-yoed back to where they came from. There were two places that Adrien would be, as they had two different settings for the shoot today. It was between a park and a studio, and Marinette was really hoping they would be at the park- it would be so much easier to snatch Adrien out of there.

She was right, and she got lucky that they were at the park for this part of the shoot. As Ladybug got closer, she could hear the photographer yelling at Adrien. "The Akuma is north of us, so north that they won't turn back here! We have to finish the photoshoot! Your father will be furious if you don't let us do our job."

"I'm sorry, Monsieur," Adrien sighed. "But I don't care how far away from us they are. I have to go help my team, or the Akuma will come back and ruin the whole photoshoot anyway!"

"No, no," The photographer fought back. "There are four other heroes that can take care of it. We must finish this photoshoot."

Adrien groaned loudly as the photographer kept arguing. "They need me. I have to go."

"Let me call Mr. Agreste to confirm your absence," The photographer said and went to grab his phone.

Just as the photographer turned his attention away, Ladybug swept in with a big smirk. She put her arm around Adrien and started swinging her yo-yo. "Sorry to steal your model, but we need him!" She called out and threw the yo-yo to get away.

"No!" The photographer yelled. "He can't leave!"

"It's for the safety of Paris!" Ladybug yelled back just as she was getting out of sight. "How's the photoshoot go?" She smiled at Adrien.

He shook his head with a small laugh. "I don't miss it as much as people think."

"I, for one, hate it. I'm stuck in his bag, starving!" Plagg complained loudly.

Ladybug laughed. "I'm sure you'll have tons of cheese later. Sorry for scooping you up, Adrien, but you know we can't do this without you. Plus, it was bizarre, the Akuma didn't even acknowledge us and just kept running away," She said with Adrien in her arms. After a few more seconds, they landed in a random alleyway so Adrien could transform.

"Well, even if there wasn't an Akuma, thank you for saving me from the crazy photographer. I don't understand why he didn't want me to leave; he knows I'm Chat Noir," Adrien shrugged. "Ah, whatever. Plagg, claws out!"

---

"Hi! I'm Marinette!" She introduced the new video as she sat at a table with her best friends and now boyfriend. "And today, we have a very special video for you guys. I'm sure you've seen the picture on social media of Ladybug and Chat Noir kissing, and well, yes, it's real. This video is to announce that Adrien and I are indeed dating!"

"Woo!" Alya screeched. "Took you guys long enough!"

Marinette rolled her eyes, and Adrien tried to hold back his laughter. "And to announce it, because we have to, we're making a video against Alya and Nino to find out who is the best couple. Even if we haven't been dating for a long time, Adrien and I have been friends for years."

"True! We probably know more about each other than we think," Adrien added.

"Yeah, but you guys won't be able to beat us. Alya and I are like one person," Nino retorted.

"Can I explain the video?" Marinette laughed.

Alya put her hand up. "No, I want to!" She said, and took charge. "You guys know the Newlywed game? That's what we're doing, but for dating. It's going to be a lot of fun. Marinette and I went through Google earlier today and picked out a few questions to ask the other couple, and there are going to be some doozies," Alya said. "So, basically, I'll ask Marinette a question, she'll write her answer on the board, and Adrien will guess. And vice versa," Alya explained.

Marinette sighed and nodded. "Okay, I guess that we can just...start?" She said, and everyone nodded. "Great! I'm going to ask the first question. If Alya won the lottery, what would be the first thing she would buy?" Marinette asked. They both thought for a minute, and Alya started writing.

"I know this one!" Nino shouted. "We've talked about this. She would have a whole bunch of things lined up, but she would definitely get an apartment first and foremost. She loves her family, but it's about time for her to move out, and she needs her space," Nino said.

"Okay, Alya, what did you say?" Marinette asked.

With a big smile, Alya turned the board around to show her answer. An apartment because I need my space. "He got it exactly! Beat that!" Alya shouted in excitement.

Adrien shook his head. "It's only the first question. Don't get too cocky just yet!"

"What is Marinette's biggest pet peeve?" Alya asked.

"You really picked that one?" Nino asked.

"Yes, it's a good question! It could go so many different ways," Alya scoffed. "I want to win."

The two were silent, and Marinette had already erased two answers because she came up with her perfect answer. "See, this could go a few different ways," Adrien said. "It could be something as simple as poking herself with a needle, or something like people getting in her way- no, I got it!" Adrien said. "Akumas."

All three looked at Marinette as she turned her board around. AKUMAS it read as she hid behind the board.

"Yes! I knew it!" Adrien cheered. "Okay, ask the next one! I love this; this is so much fun."

Marinette looked down at her sheet and asked the next question that Nino would write an answer for. "Okay, uh, what was Alya's first impression of Nino?"

A minute went by, and Alya was ready with her answer. "Well, we met on my first day of school a few years ago, but we weren't super close. So, I expect it to be something like: she seems cool, I want to get to know her," She guessed.

Nino flipped his board around and showed that it said not much, I just wanted to get to know her. And they both erupted into cheers again as Alya got ready to ask Adrien the next question.

"What is your favorite memory together?" Alya asked.

Again, another minute went by, and the two had to think really hard about it. "Okay, Marinette, what's your answer?" Alya asked.

"Honestly, we've had so many good times together. And I've told this story before, where Adrien gave me his umbrella in the rain after I was convinced I hated him. It gave me such a different perspective on everything, and I'm so glad I forgave him."

Adrien looked down and turned his board. "That's a good one, but I said something different. I know Mari doesn't like to talk about it that much, but this was a day I'll never forget. It was the day we got our Miraculous and became superheroes, the first time we met. It was really funny, because I had no clue what I was doing, and neither did she, but she tried to use her yo-yo and ran straight into me. Then, she told off Hawkmoth on her first day as a superhero- and I knew she was going to be amazing," Adrien rambled.

"Aw, that's so sweet. I think I'll be okay not getting a point for that one. But we still have to win!" Marinette determined.

They went through about ten questions total, which ended up taking a while because the stories continued coming- but Marinette was sure the fans would not be mad about an extra-long video of their favorite ships. In the end, Alya and Nino ended up winning by two points, only getting two wrong.

"So what, we missed four," Adrien rolled his eyes. "We just started dating, we've got plenty of time to keep learning obscure things about each other," He retorted and put his arm around Marinette. Pushing it off, she ended the video before Alya and Nino could get any bigger ego.

The fans went wild. They loved every second of the video, just as the group had predicted, and the comments blew up the video went live. Soon enough, Adrienette was trending on Twitter again, and Marinette had to shut off her phone to stop the notifications from distracting her from Mario Kart. She would read comments and Tweets in the morning.

I saw the announcement on twitter, but I still can't believe it's true. THE SHIP HAS SAILED???

I love them all so much. Their dynamic with each other is simply the best. Nino and Alya are ultimate goals and I'm so happy Adrien and Marinette are together

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES PINCH ME IS THIS REAL IM GONNA CRY

i love them i love them they are the cutest

I mean, they already live together, we all saw this coming right? n knee ways, SHIP!!!

look at nino and alya being the best couple out there with adrienette right behind them

so whats nino and alyas ship name? I'm so happy we got to learn more about their relationship in this video I mean we already knew they've been together for a while but I love all their stories!

this was the absolute best way to announce the new hot couple. gossip sites are about to go crazy!

I'm so happy Mari is becoming more comfortable talking about lb and can. I know she chose not to for safety reasons and crazy people but now that it's kind of calmed down (a little) I'm glad she's able to talk about it. Look at that growth! we stan

---

Earlier that day

Nathalie arrived at the photoshoot an hour before Adrien was scheduled to be there. She had to speak to the photographer for an important reason and did not want Adrien to interfere.

"Are you sure, Miss Nathalie?" The photographer asked. "If there is an Akuma, you don't want me to let him go?"

"No. He is not allowed to leave. No matter what. Mr. Agreste does not want him near the Akuma," Nathalie demanded.

"Why not? He is a superhero, correct?" The photographer was confused. "He will not want to be here if there is danger."

Nathalie shook her head. "He is not allowed to leave. And he is not allowed to know I was here. Gabr- Mr. Agreste is worried about him and does not want to risk anything more."

"Well, what am I meant to tell him when he tries to leave?"

"Simply tell him no and that you will call his father. This photoshoot is far too important."

"I'm sorry, but I think the priority is saving Paris," The photographer tried to reason.

Nathalie held up the briefcase she was holding. "This is double what you charge for the shoot. It's all yours. Just keep him at the photo shoot."

"Of course, I will do everything I can."

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries

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taexual · 5 years

Text

HOLIC - 23 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: fluff (has holic ever had fluff as a warning) ft. a soundtrack

words: 4.9k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

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You’ve never been to a recording studio before, so you didn’t know what to expect but the building looked ordinary from the outside. Not that you were hoping for flashing signs or anything, but the lack of pretentious looking artists – which, okay, was exactly what you were expecting to run into – at the lobby was somewhat surprising.

“You look disappointed,” Jaebum remarked, walking next to you and pointing at the elevator before you could wander off on your own. “Jackson’s on the seventh. Let’s not take the stairs, I’m sick of the elevator in our building not working.”

You nodded, following him. “I’m not disappointed. I just wasn’t sure what I’d see here but it’s… kind of empty.”

“Everyone’s working. They don’t come here to hang out in the hallway,” he explained, pressing the elevator button. “It’s not empty, though. As soon as we’ll get off on the seventh floor, you’ll see many people hitting their heads against the wall, trying to write song lyrics. Been there, done that.”

“Did you write your song lyrics here, too?” you asked, unable to stop yourself. No matter how hard it was for him to speak about his music, you couldn’t help but want to know more. This was the most beautiful part of him – not the mysteriousness surrounding his songs, of course, but his love for music.

“Some of them,” Jaebum revealed, tapping his hand against the wall next to the elevator door, impatiently waiting for it to open. Once it finally did, he allowed you to enter first and then followed right after, pressing the button with the appropriate number on it. “I don’t usually write my songs in the hallway, though. I write the best while I’m talking to Jackson. He has ways of stimulating my mind until I find myself turning my emotions into words I could never voice otherwise.”

You were already starting to like Jackson even though you haven’t even met him yet – then again, you’d have liked anyone who supported Jaebum’s dream, to be honest – but you were still a little cautious. After finding Mark to be extremely endearing and even befriending him, you got into a fight with Jaebum that you did not want to remember or relive in any other way. Hence why you didn’t want to come off as too eager when it came to meeting Jackson – although, really, you were dying to see the guy who helped Jaebum create his music.

“Right here,” Jaebum guided you out of the elevator and down the hallway, which was – just like he’d warned – lined with various different people, all seated on the floor or laying against the wall, nodding to themselves, notepads or laptops on their laps, thick headphones on their ears. “Don’t look them in the eye.”

You sped up, following after him. “What? Why not?”

“The ones going through writer’s block will start asking you to give them random words,” Jaebum explained, “and once you start to help them, they’ll never let you leave.”

“Huh,” you carefully looked around the hallway. “I don’t think it’s so bad here. Maybe it’s in my blood to become a lyricist.”

Jaebum turned to look at you over his shoulder, his eyes drifting to your shoulder bag which you’d unzipped to get your camera out. “No. It’s in your blood to become a photographer. Now, come on.”

He stopped suddenly, opening the door on his right, and you were immediately met with loud music – which proved that each room in this building was soundproof and, therefore, no one would have had any idea about anything that was happening in there if they didn’t peak inside; it intrigued you, really – and, only after you followed Jaebum inside, did you notice a brown-haired guy, spinning around in an office chair, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

“Jackson,” Jaebum said, closing the door after you’d entered. He wasn’t too loud so you figured his friend wouldn’t hear him over the music, but Jackson whipped his head around immediately and smiled, standing up.

“Jae!” he shouted, his enthusiastic voice easing some of your anxiety. He gave Jaebum a half-hug and then pointed at you. “Is this the girl? It better be or else we’re going to start having problems about you bringing girls over to the studio.”

Jaebum groaned. “Yes, this is the girl. Don’t you see the camera in her hands? I don’t know any other photographers.”

“Well, that offends me deeply,” Jackson frowned, “I know I might focus on music, but I can find my way around a decent camera, too,” he turned to look at you, the teasing smile he’d used for Jaebum turning into a genuine one, “hi. I’m Jackson.”

“Hi,” you shook his extended hand and introduced yourself. “Sorry if I’m bothering you by being here.”

“Not at all! I get sick of being alone with Jaebum so it’s nice to have someone else here,” Jackson replied and you saw Jaebum roll your eyes.

“Sometimes I forget why he’s my friend,” Jaebum commented as Jackson patted his shoulder in mock-affection.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied to your roommate, grinning as you watched him interact with Jackson. “He seems great.”

“I like her!” Jackson declared, sitting down on his chair. Aside from being talkative and easy-going, he was starting to seem hyperactive as well. Each time you blinked, he was doing something else. “Are we having a photoshoot here? Fair warning, I haven’t really brushed my hair today, I was going for a natural look.”

“Uh, well—” you hesitated, glancing at Jaebum for help – he was too busy with the equipment of the control room as he tried to turn the music down – because you weren’t sure what you should have said. “I was just about to ask if it’s really okay for me to take pictures here. I’m not sure what I’m really doing, I just want to experiment, I guess. I don’t normally photograph people, so your face might not even be visible—”

“Oh, so it’s a whole different kind of photoshoot we’re talking about here, huh?” Jackson winked, giving Jaebum a look too – and earning a glare in return. “Well, the rest of my body is much more prepared for a shoot. I even skipped lunch for this.”

“You—”

“Stop messing around,” Jaebum warned him.

Jackson only laughed. “Come on, of course, it’s fine if you take pictures here. I’d love to see them once you’re done, too, if you won’t mind. I’m not a professional, but I have some photography background.”

“That’s a humble way to say his family basically owns Nikon,” Jaebum informed you.

“Uh-huh, and that’s why I am so upset to see a Canon in your hands,” Jackson nodded in the direction of the camera you were holding. “Is it any good? Did it come with this lens?”

“N-no, uh, I bought it,” you said, a little overwhelmed with everything but pleasantly surprised to find Jackson so friendly. Talking to him was like a breath of fresh air – not a single awkward moment passed between you and you’ve only met him a minute ago – and you understood that Jaebum probably purposefully chose to surround himself with people like this, because Mark was similar, too. “Would you like to see some of my old shots?”

“Yes,” Jackson nodded, not even checking what Jaebum was doing and instead, driving his office chair towards a settee by the wall of the room before indicating for you to take a seat on it. “I was just looking for a new lens for my own camera because last time, I ended up buying a fish-eye one by accident, and it’s only good for panoramic pictures. Now, while I don’t think I’m extremely bad-looking, you do not want to see what my selfies look like through a fish-eye lens.”

“Yes, because that’s the only reason why you’re looking for a lens,” came Jaebum’s input into the conversation, “to take selfies with your professional camera.”

“Absolutely,” Jackson replied, no shame in his voice whatsoever. “You have to immortalize this work of art.”

You chuckled, opening up the gallery on your camera and passing it to Jackson so he could go through it. You felt almost like you were showing your portfolio to an employer -- but if you wanted to take pictures in his studio, he had every right to know what kind of pictures you took usually -- which was nothing short of stressful.

Jackson was surprisingly quiet as he looked through your photographs, only nodding his head every once in a while, and humming something under his breath. You weren’t sure what he thought until he reached the final picture and then finally raised his eyes, passing his camera to you.

“They’re really good,” he said in an unexpectedly serious voice. Jaebum – who had already entered the studio booth and was now going through some papers – didn’t hear him, so Jackson turned around to find his friend behind the glass of the control room. “Hey, Jae! She is fantastic. You’ve never told me you knew a photography prodigy.”

Jaebum, popping his head out of the isolated booth, smiled proudly. “Jealous?”

“You’re the first talented person that has entered this studio,” Jackson told you, purposefully mocking Jaebum who just rolled his eyes—this was clearly Jaebum’s way of showing love to his friends—and returned to what he’d been doing before. “Do you perhaps sing, too?”

You laughed. “No. Not that I don’t love to yell at the top of my lungs.”

“We can work with that,” he said, giving you a smile before standing up from his chair. “You can fix your settings and go ahead and take pictures of anything you want, yeah? I’ll go check on Jaebum to make sure he doesn’t break anything.”

“I heard that!” came your roommate’s response from the booth.

“I was hoping you would!” Jackson countered, leaving you alone with your camera.

After adjusting the white balance and configuring the other basic settings to ensure the higher quality of the pictures in this specific setting, you began to photograph the room around you. Somehow, the dim lighting in the studio made the pictures come out looking almost amorous, but you went with it because, as you watched Jaebum explain his ideas to Jackson, it seemed to fit the mood.

Originally, you’d planned to only photograph inanimate objects but there were only so many pictures of the office chairs and the general equipment you could take before it started to seem repetitive, so you couldn’t help but allow your camera to wander to the two boys who had returned to the control room and were now busy arranging something that seemed like verses of a song.

Jackson was difficult to take pictures of because his movements were sporadic and unexpected. Also, he could feel the camera on him and kept on smiling, thus, ruining the natural look you were trying to go for. Jaebum, on the other hand…

As soon as your camera landed on him, you seemed to feel a wave of unexpected excitement wash over you as if you’ve been looking for something special about this room and now you’ve finally found it. Jaebum never ceased to pose – without realizing it – and even though only certain parts of his body were visible in the pictures – like his eye and the two moles you’ve admired since the first time you saw him, or his hand as he waved it around for more effect – you could almost hear the story he was telling in the pictures that you took.

Each photograph of Jaebum seemed to speak to you and even though you’ve never heard the songs he’s written before, you could sense the words and the melody just from the movement of his body alone. It was magical – he wasn’t even aware you were taking pictures of him and yet he created the most beautiful compositions by just existing. You barely had to do anything, just make sure that your hands weren’t shaking as you pressed the camera button over and over.

Somehow, you got so lost in the world Jaebum had created, you didn’t even hear Jackson calling out for you.

“Huh?” you mumbled distractedly after you captured his confused eyes as he stared right at the lens of your camera.

“You really enter a different realm when you take pictures, don’t you?” Jackson said, a good-natured smile on his face.

“Yeah, sorry,” you turned the camera off. “What were you saying?”

“I can’t listen to Jaebum complain about not liking the arrangement anymore,” Jackson said. “Do you want to hear the song and give us your opinion?”

Waves of hotness ran throughout your body at the offer. You’d waited so long for this and yet you couldn’t help but notice the way Jaebum covered his face as soon as Jackson finished talking.

“I-I mean, I would love that,” you said. “But if Jaebum doesn’t want—”

“Oh, who cares what he wants,” Jackson cut you off. “He’ll never get anywhere if he gets so bashful about his music. It’s good, man. I swear. She needs to hear it.”

You could tell that this wasn’t it – Jaebum wasn’t awkward about this because he thought his music was bad. He may have considered his songs good but not good enough. You went through the same thing each time you started to edit your pictures. They looked nice eventually, but there was always something you could add; little things that made a big difference. You were constantly afraid you’d miss those little things and end up being left with an average picture instead of an extraordinary one.

“I have the rough copy of it on my laptop,” Jackson added when his friend didn’t protest.

“Alright, I don’t want to be in the room when you hear it,” Jaebum said, standing up and looking at you. “No offense or anything, I just—you know.”

Before you could open your mouth and say anything – maybe even ask him to stay or offer to hold his hand or something so the obviously stressful experience of letting others listen to his music wouldn’t be so bad for him – Jackson started to speak.

“Yeah, well, go, then,” he encouraged, pointing at the door of the studio without turning away from his laptop. “We’re doing this whether you like it or not. It’s time.”

Jaebum looked at you as if waiting for your approval and once you gave him a small nod, he nodded back and then left. You weren’t sure what the silence between you two meant and you sure as hell had no idea if you hearing his song would change anything between you, but you found yourself feeling so nervous, your hands started to shake.

“Alright, here it is,” Jackson said after he heard Jaebum close the door. “It’s about his ex. It’s just the right amount of aggressive and sad. You’ll love it.”

You forgot how to breathe before Jackson even pressed play. You weren’t expecting Jaebum’s first song that you’d get to hear to be about Suji of all people, but if you really thought about it, it made a lot of sense. Jaebum constantly emphasized how bad he was at expressing his feelings. Perhaps the only way he knew how to pour his heart out was through music.

“It’s called Don’t Touch Me,” Jackson added and immediately after he stopped talking, you heard Jaebum sing the first words of the song, the combination of the sensuous melody and his voice sending shivers down your spine.

♪ Why on earth are you like this to me?

♪ What do you want? It's already over for me.

The lyrics were obvious and yet you blinked quickly, trying to hide your emotions because Jackson was watching you, eating up your reaction. You had a feeling that he could probably hear the sound of your heartbeat even over the music, though, so it was almost useless for you to try to hide anything.

It wasn’t so much the lyrics that have affected you – although they were definitely part of the reason why you were almost hyperventilating as you sat on the settee, listening to Jaebum sing – as it was the realization that Jaebum could sing.

Of course, you knew that he had a nice voice. You had a feeling he didn’t say he wanted to become a singer in the future because he couldn’t do anything else and being a singer just seemed cool. He said this because he had serious ambitions – and serious talent. You knew he possessed the ability to make people feel all that he was feeling when he talked – you’ve experienced that first-hand – but up until today, you haven’t really grasped just how powerful this ability was.

♪ How many times do I need to say it, no more.

♪ Don't stick to me ever, the end result is obvious anyway.

“Good, right?” Jackson called out to you over the music, nodding his head along to the beat.

You didn’t dare to nod – or to move – in case you’d miss a line and end up not hearing something. This was the first time you were listening to Jaebum’s music – and, consequently, the first time you were hearing your roommate use his voice for something other than yelling at you – and you were, to put it simply, unprepared.

You’d been waiting for this but each word, each line of the song took you off guard. Perhaps it was good that Jaebum wasn’t in the room with you or else he would have seen so many different emotions cross your face, you’d never find an explanation for all of them. Jackson – although he watched you cautiously – probably couldn’t understand you, either, but it didn’t matter as much because the song wasn’t his, and he didn’t strike you as a person who’d get very weird and almost dismissive about his works of art, anyway.

Jaebum was a whole different story. He’d think you hated it. He’d think he’d done something wrong when, in reality, everything he’d done with this song was right. It was too right and you suddenly found your fingernails digging into the leather of the settee as you listened to the song progress.

♪ The same conversation every day, I don't wanna no more.

♪ You know it yourself, don't you? Already done, no more.

♪ I'm getting sick of this now, you know how I think of you.

♪ Regardless of what you think, it already happened.

“So much raw emotion!” Jackson continued as the song approached the chorus. “The song has so much potential.”

“Hmm,” you mumbled lamely.

You had expected his music to be good. Perhaps you were even expecting his music to reflect all the feelings he was never able to say but you still couldn’t help but feel like you’ve just stumbled deep into his mind and entered a room you weren’t supposed to enter. When he’d ask you what you thought of the song, you wouldn’t know what to say because, essentially, you’d have to comment on so many different things that made you feel too many emotions that were all slowly driving you insane.

His voice made you feel warm but as the song went on, you realized you were itching to get out of this suddenly hot, suffocating room and find Jaebum. You didn’t want to think what you’d say—or do—to him once you found him.

His lyrics made you realize just how deep his feelings about all that had happened in his life ran. If this was a song he wrote about someone he couldn’t wait to run away from, what kind of songs would he sing about someone he actually wanted to be with? Someone he loved?

And the music… you weren’t sure if he made it himself or if he had someone else arrange it for him, but you couldn’t tell a difference between his voice and the music itself. They blended together, not sounding just harmonious, but sounding like they were inseparable — like they were one and they could not exist without each other. Jaebum could not sing these words without this music accompanying his voice and the music could not play without his words emerging from it.

♪ Don't look for me anymore.

♪ I don't want you.

♪ Even if you say you long for me,

♪ Even if you need me to death,

♪ I won't waver a single bit, ever.

You knew how Jaebum felt about Suji – hell, he said you were one of the few people who knew it well – but listening to him sing about it, each word coming straight from his heart, felt too intrusive to handle and, while you wanted to never stop listening to his calming voice as he sang, you also weren’t sure if you’d be able to endure the entire song.

You didn’t start fidgeting because you were uncomfortable listening to Jaebum sing about his ex-girlfriend. You started to fidget because you were uncomfortable with yourself and with the conclusion that your heart had finally landed on.

It was clear as day to every part of your body and there was no denying it anymore. There was no longer any room for doubt and even your stubborn mind was able to recognize it – you were falling in love with Jaebum.

♪ Don't touch me now, don't stay close to me.

♪ Just as you were before, nothing's changed about you.

♪ Don't touch me now, don't stay close to me.

♪ Just as you were before, nothing's changed about you, baby.

You’ve known you no longer saw Jaebum as just a roommate for a while now, but you refused to dig deeper into your feelings. You refused to over-analyze them, instead focusing on analyzing the behavior of Jaebum and the things he was feeling towards you. Maybe, in a way, you’ve avoided confrontations with your heart the same way that Jaebum avoided coming face-to-face with his music.

You didn’t want to admit to yourself that what had started out as curious admiration had bloomed into attraction – somehow skipping the hate you’d assumed you were supposed to feel for Jaebum after everything you’ve gone through with him – and now you were overwhelmed by all that you’d tried to run away from. You were no longer just admiring him and his mind. You were no longer just attracted to him and everything that he did.

Even despite all the fights you’ve had, you were always afraid to lose him. Despite the fear you felt about never having a chance with him, you constantly thought about him. Despite not wanting to put him through the same thing he’d gone through with Suji, you still wanted to be with him.

You were falling in love with him and, as his song played on, you suddenly weren’t sure what to do with the extra beats of your heart because they all belonged to him. They were all screaming for him.

Jackson cleared his throat suddenly, distracting you from the wild feelings that were freewheeling all over your chest. He gave you a gentle smile once you turned to look at him, your eyes still wide.

“You… know the person he’s singing about, don’t you?” he asked slowly. “Sorry if that’s a very personal question, you just—you looked really uncomfortable for a while there, and I know there’s no way it’s because you don’t like the song.”

“No, uh, the song’s great,” you said, trying to get yourself together enough to appear normal but each word that came out of your mouth sounded foreign. “It’s really really good. I don’t know why I’m surprised, I knew it was going to be good—but, uh, it’s amazing. And… yeah. I think I do know the person he’s singing about.”

“Oh,” Jackson nodded, taking this information in. You wondered if he started to feel awkward because he didn’t know about Suji or if the look on his face symbolized sympathy because he knew what Jaebum was singing about, too. “Does it feel weird to listen to your boyfriend sing about his ex?”

You blinked in surprise, Jackson’s words working like an electric shock, startling you awake from a trance Jaebum’s song had put you in. “My—oh, no. Jaebum—no. We’re not—he isn’t my—no.”

Your mind flashed back to your shopping session at IKEA where a salesman had assumed you and Jaebum were together – many things have changed since then but you were still awkward when explaining to people that the things between you were strictly platonic. Even more so now that you realized just how hard you wanted to be with Jaebum without a label in the way.

“We’re not dating,” you clarified in case Jackson did not figure out what you were trying to say as you rambled clumsily. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Okay, I got that,” Jackson said, a subtle smirk on his lips, “It’s just that Jae’s never brought a girl over to my studio -- actually, he'd never introduced me to any girl that he knew before, so I figured this was his subtle way of letting me know that you and him--well, nevermind, then,” he stopped, shaking his head and going back to the previous topic, “anyway, what did you think of the song?”

“It’s—”

The door of the studio opened at the same time you started to speak and an awkward Jaebum poked his head inside. He looked afraid to hear his own music still playing and he seemed to visibly relax as soon as he realized you and Jackson were talking in silence.

Your heart – that could not seem to rest ever since you heard the first chords of his song – suddenly started to beat even faster as if attempting to break out of your chest and exit your body in any way it could. You were afraid to open your mouth.

“Don’t look like you just stumbled into the wrong room,” Jackson told his friend. “Come in. She liked the song.”

“She did?” Jaebum asked, shooting you an awkward, sheepish look.

You have never seen him this flustered and, for a moment, you even considered the possibility of him feeling about as affected by this as you were. Jaebum clearly didn’t let many people listen to his music so you could only imagine the anxiety he must have been feeling after you heard his song, and yet, you still weren’t sure if it was possible for anyone to feel as many emotions as you were feeling in that moment.

“Yes, it’s incredible,” you managed to speak, clearing your throat once you heard how weak your voice sounded. You hadn’t even realized you stood up as soon as you started to talk, “there’s so much feeling in the song. You have a wonderful ability to tell the most emotional story with your music, I—,” you stopped, noticing the look Jaebum gave Jackson – as if he was asking his friend if this was really happening. “It’s really g-great. Your voice is very, uh, fitting for this kind of song. It’s just sensual enough to make the listener feel all that you’re feeling and more.”

“I, uh…” Jaebum was evidently new at receiving compliments for his music because, probably for the first time in your life, you caught him at a loss for words. “Thank you. Did you really think it was good?”

“Yes. Somehow, this is exactly the kind of music I was expecting from you,” you said despite just having been caught off guard by how much his music had made you feel. “Your voice made every word sound attractive and somehow soothing, despite the song… not being about the most positive kind of things. It--it’s probably weird but I got the feeling like you could sing about the end of the world, describing every disturbing thing that was going to happen to the humankind, and your voice would make the listener feel like, despite it being the apocalypse, everything was still going to be okay.”

Because Jaebum had a hard time finding what to say and Jackson did not want to interfere – alright, maybe he did want to cut in with the most teasing phrase he could muster, but he chose to stay out of it and let you two play around your feelings for a little while longer – you were starting to feel awkward – shit, you shouldn’t have talked about his voice so much; what a way to make your feelings for him obvious – so, after glancing at the clock on your phone, you sighed in an overly dramatic way.

“I think I’m going to head out,” you said. “It’s getting quite late, I got the pictures I was hoping for, so I won’t disturb you anymore. Thank you for bringing me here, I had a lot of fun. A-and thank you for finally letting me hear your music. Oh! And it was very nice to meet you, Jackson.”

“Nice to meet you, too!” Jackson replied, shooting you a wink. He might have been the only person in this room – other than you – who understood exactly why you needed to leave because Jaebum still looked too overwhelmed with everything to figure anything out. Thank God for that.

“Wait—” your roommate called out as you headed for the door, your abrupt decision to leave not sitting right with him. “I--I’ll take you home.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you said, unsure if you’d endure a ride back home with him. You felt like you needed some time alone to get yourself together. Looking at him right now made you feel too much and you still haven’t recovered from the intense emotional rollercoaster his song had taken you on – you were seriously far too sensitive to all things that involved Jaebum. “You stay and work on your music. I’ll find my way back.”

Conflicted what to say and still overwhelmed from all that had just happened, Jaebum didn’t stop you, giving Jackson a questioning look – and earning a shrug in return – before mumbling a soft, “she thinks I have a sensual voice,” right as you walked out of the door of the studio.

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peachymhaechan · 5 years

Text

“Trust me, it isn’t just for the camera.”

Genre: fluff, babey !! nothin like a good ol idol au, am I rite, laid ease??

Warnings: bad words (like everything else I've written ever lol)

Pairing: Taeyong X female idol reader

A/N: junior year is almost over, thank god. I am so tired. writing this was such a good break from studying for my ap exams and cramming for finals. thank u, Taeyong. also, im working on something for the superhuman comeback, stay tuned, yall :)

you had been a model for sm for a few years now

well within your first year you had gained so much popularity that you became the company’s most hired model and had received a nickname from your employers and fans

you were their Golden Girl (hhhhhffk listen,,, we been knew I ain’t creative), and everyone was dying to work with their Golden Girl

most notable for your bubbly personality and striking looks, every employer was fascinated by your ability to pull off any look

very similar is lee Taeyong, another artist signed to your company

with his stark beauty, it was no understatement to say that you would not have minded working with someone as pretty as him

so, when your manager told you about an upcoming project where you’d be working with Taeyong and a few of the other nct boys you were #sh00k to say the least

“wait..... WHAT?!” was all you could say in response to your manager telling you the good news

“Yeah, I know. I know how long you’ve wanted to work with him. Well, get ready. For this photoshoot they need you to have bubblegum pink hair, and.....”

for the next few days, you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was about to happen

yeah, you guys were signed to the same company but that doesn't mean you saw him all the time

you had only seen him once, and that was when you had just become a trainee and were walking through the halls to try and find the recording studio on the third floor

you accidentally went into the dance studio and found yourself interrupting a dance practice for nct u

“Sorry, I have to find someone in the recording studio, where-”

“You’re fine, don't worry about it! If you go out this hallway, make the next left turn and it should be the second door on the right,” Taeyong said, giving you a small smile

that was the ONLY interaction you had with him, but boy even when covered in sweat was he gorgeous

and you got to WORK WITH THAT

the day finally came where you got to work with him yayayay

you woke up at 4 am after having only 1 hour of sleep, thriving

you got up and took a quick shower, did your skincare routine, and changed into comfy clothes for the day

on your way to meeting your manager you grabbed a few coffees for the staff as a thank you for the opportunity

you met your manager at the company building and it started to hit that

//ohmygod this is really about to happen//

your manager tried her best to calm your nerves but damn, you were not having any of that

scrolling through Instagram, you anxiously awaited the company van that would take you to the photoshoot set

when it pulled up after about twenty minutes of waiting, you and your crew piled in and then you heard your manager tell the driver to hold the van for a few more minutes, seeing as Taeyong and his people were running a little behind

that only made your heart beat even faster

hgjaonfnwnw anxious from waiting, you just wanted to get it over with and rip it off like a bandaid

five minutes later, you saw three people walking over to the van

one of which was wearing sweats, sneakers, a hoodie, and a mask

you automatically recognized who that was despite the baggy clothing and half hidden face

oh fuck oh shit

one of the other two men talked to your manager, who had gotten out to speak to taeyong’s manager and the other person there

Taeyong climbed into the van and made eye contact with you in the back row, spotting the empty seat beside you

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, nodding to the spot right next to you

you felt a blush creep into your cheeks and your throat started getting closed up from nerves

so all you could do was shake your head no

he sat down and gave you a small smile, then started yawning and stretching out his arms

you had one extra coffee left from earlier and you figured it’d be a great ice breaker maybe

“I have an extra coffee from a coffee run I went on earlier, do you want it? It’s not super hot or anything, but its still a little warm, and its caffeine,” you said and his eyes immediately lit up

“Oh, yes please!!”

you grabbed the last cup from the drink carrier and gave it to him, and he thanked you right away

“How did you have enough time to go on a coffee run this morning?” Taeyong asked in shock

“I got up at four and am running on one hour of sleep,” you explained, not even trying to seem like you have it together

that's what its like being a hot mess, babey !!1

“That’s not good, you need to get more sleep. Were you out late last night with your schedule or something?”

concerned mom? yes

“I was out until about eleven pm, yeah, but in all honesty... I couldn’t sleep because I was very nervous to meet you.”

bro you need to get some sleep and get your filter back in place

bc when you get no sleep?? a bitch has NO filter whatsoever

Taeyong was genuinely surprised that you were nervous to meet him

“Really?? You were nervous to meet me?? Why, am I really that scary or something??”

“Its not that you’re scary, exactly, but... I have wanted to work with you for a very long time, and it still hasn’t fully set in that this is my reality.”

he nodded after you spoke, and it seemed to both impress and confuse him

no matter how popular him and his group got, he never got used to having people look up to him

and to hear it from someone as successful as you, someone he has constantly seen in the media for so long?? mind boggling

it kind of made him nervous tbh

before he could reply, the managers and everyone piled in and the van started moving to the photoshoot set

as soon as you guys left the company building, your head leaned onto the window and you passed tf out

when you woke up, Taeyong was tapping you on the shoulder and telling you that yall got to the set finally

taeyong’s face greeting you when you woke up? shocking, but not an unwelcome sight

“Alright, we need to get you guys into hair and makeup, then we will send you both over to wardrobe and they'll make any last minute touchups and then you can get to work. Sound good?” your manager told you two, and when you both nodded, she immediately directed you to the makeup studio

your artists were very excited to work with you, which made everything much more pleasant

“The feel we are going for with this shoot will perfectly fit your aesthetic and your features, I’m so excited!!” and “You’re naturally this pretty? And after only one hour of sleep? Oh my god, my under eye bags are permanent and it looks like you don’t have any at all!” or the occasional “I wish I could be as stunning as you without even trying...”

it sounded like Taeyong was going through the same thing, as you could hear some of the other makeup artists gushing about his sharp features

“Wow, your eyes are so beautiful!” and “Your smile is stunning!” and “I wish I was half as pretty as you are!”

you could tell it made him a bit uncomfortable because he sat there with a :} face

(unrelated but: that face looks like the grinch lowkey, ok sorry for interrupting lol, back to the fic)

you two made eye contact in the mirror and you could practically read his mind

I want this to stop, they’re making me uncomfortable, oh my god.

to which your eyes said, Same here, and I am used to dealing with this on a daily basis.

luckily, they finished putting shadows and liner on your eyelids, and then they sent you to the hair department

for hair, they teased and curled your hair, giving you a tired and just woken up look

well, a styled just woken up kind of look

Taeyong came in halfway through your hair and all they had to do for him was throw some gel in his and make it a little messy and he was good to go

by the time you made it to wardrobe Taeyong was already on set and getting individual pictures for the concept

they threw you in clothes, and by clothes you mean a men’s oversized white button up, short shorts, and a bright red bra

and before you could even leave to head to the set, they made sure that the first few buttons were undone on the shirt

to say you felt a lil bit exposed and cold was an understatement

the second he saw you, Taeyong had a glint in his eye and he couldn't stop staring at you

naturally, that made you blush and get really self conscious

?? wot

“Hello, I am your photographer for the day. This shoot is supposed to be sort of a couple, romantic fashion shoot, so I hope you two know each other very well and are comfortable with being close to one another. Do you two have any issues with that?”

you both looked at each other,

and then lee Taeyong,

while staring dead in your eyes,

said

“No, sounds perfect!”

bitch

what the fuck was that supposed to mean ?!

“sounds perfect” uhhhhhhhhhhh lemme get a mcfuckin explanation

he gave you a small smile before you managed to get out, “No issues here.”

that only made him smile more

njsdncvcaehcfabcafcb bitch!! you were whipped for him already

“Great! Let’s get started, then. Y/N, I will have you stand over here, and...”

let’s just say that the photographer had you two start with basic stuff, like you two standing next to one another with Taeyong putting his hand on your shoulder and things like that

it quickly escalated though, and he had you doing things like laying your legs across his lap and running your hands through his hair

“Sorry if this is a little too intimate for you,” you whispered into his ear during another shot, where you were draped over his sitting form and your hand caressed his cheek

“Don’t apologize, it’s not. If anything, I’m a little flustered to have someone as pretty as you staring at me the way you are, Y/N, even if it is just for the camera,” he told you, shifting so that you were turned with your back to the camera and chest flush to his, your hands delicately placed on his upper arms, his hand resting on your lower back and you staring up at him

faintly you could hear the photographer say, “THIS IS IT, THIS IS THE ONE!”

“Trust me, it isn’t just for the camera,” you mumbled, not able to filter yourself due to sleep deprivation

you thought he didn’t hear you, but then a smirk formed on his face and you knew you #fucked up

the end of the shoot was arriving, and there were a few more pictures the photographer had in mind, but he wanted to let you guys do your own thing and see where it ended up

“You guys can do what you want for these next few pictures, just do what feels naturally and I’ll angle it well.” very encouraging, right

making use of the pieces of furniture on the set, you decided to lay on the bright red couch and Taeyong looked down at you from behind it

“I couldn’t hear what you said earlier, can you say it again please?” he asked, trying to fish a confession out of you

Oh, Mr. Lee Taeyong, it won’t be that easy.

“Hmmm, what do you mean?” you asked, purposefully trying to be as close to him as you could, so you sat on your hips to the side more and pulled him down so your hand rested on his cheek and your face was //right there, you could feel his breath on your lips//

(the photographer would have fainted there if he could get away with technical time theft while on the job)

taeyong’s breath hitched and a blush crept onto his cheeks and you knew you got him

ladies and gentlemen.... we got ‘im

even still, he tried to get it out of you

“Well, I thought I heard you say something under your breath before the photographer spoke to us,” he coyly explained, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap

at that point it became a game of who could get the other to blush more

and lemme just say, mama didn’t raise no lil bitch, so you were NOT about to lose

grabbing both sides of his face in your small hands, you leaned in and whispered, “I hope it’s okay that I’m going to kiss you now.”

his eyes went wide, and then he said, “MORE than okay.”

and the next thing you know, your lips were planted on his and the photographer was sobbing genuine tears

“THIS IS PEAK PROFESSIONALISM, OH MY GOD, IT’S BEEN YEARS SINCE I’VE WORKED WITH MODELS AS GOOD AS YOU TWO, OH MY, THIS IS THE SHOT THAT WILL MAKE IT BIG, I’M-”

of course his enthusiasm made you start giggling, and you could feel Taeyong smiling into the kiss

when you two broke apart you leaned your forehead on his and stared into his eyes

“I think we both know what I said earlier,” you told him, throwing your arms around his neck

“Good, because I hope we are both on the same page,” he said, smirking slightly

“And that is?”

and all he did in response was kiss you again, but this time not smiling from the photographer’ s goofy remarks

the photographer gave the okay after he got that shot and told you two that he wish he’d gotten to work with you sooner

the ironic thing here is that you and Taeyong wished the same thing

you headed back to the dressing rooms, hand in hand, getting stares from the staff but not caring much

or at all, really

#bad bitch club: RISE

“I hope you know that as soon as those pictures get released, people will assume we are dating, right?” you said, wiping the makeup off and combing through your hair

you quickly ducked into changing room, throwing on the clothes you were wearing when you arrived

you heard him chuckle from the other little makeshift room

you exited your changing room and found him waiting for you

“Why let them assume when we could tell them the truth ourselves?”

and somehow, despite the crazy hectic schedules you both had,

and all the crazy ups and downs of being in the public spotlight,

a few months later, when the magazine finally hit the shelves and the cover image was you two kissing each other and looking like the happiest couple in the world,

when you got invited to an interview to discuss the inspiration for the images and the experience of working with each other,

you two walked in hand in hand, smiling brightly and looking like your average couple that was in love

and when asked if you two were dating,

you replied, “Yes, and it has been the best few months of my life so far.”

:) uwu

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