#and i loved how they allowed time for the band and dancers to shine

[agustdiv1ne]

TXT U WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS

[violettduchess]

This is a little out of the box but I'd like to request a sexy yoga/ stretching AU with Leon that ends with the implication of sex (since you don't write smut 😚)

A/N: This is a modern AU where Leon is, as anon requested, a yoga instructor. It may start out more like a crack fic but I had to somehow establish how/why he is what he is. Enjoy, anon!!

Fluff/Spice and cruise ships!

Word count: 1326

It was dark out on the deck of The Sea Rose. And cold. The massive cruise ship cut silently through the dark ocean waters, a behemoth illuminated by the wan light of a crescent moon. The outer lights, spaced evenly along each deck, dotted the sides of the ship like the bioluminescent dots of an alien deep sea creature.

Leon had said he wanted to clear his head, work some things out before coming to bed. Your honeymoon should be a joyous occasion. You had been looking forward to it almost more than the wedding, but the tension with his brothers over the fate of the Rhodolite Wellness Center weighed heavily on his mind. The Obsidian Corporation was looking to buy out the complex that Leon and his brothers had been running together. Jin, the personal trainer. Yves, in charge of the spa. Nokto the masseuse. Chevalier who was never there but ran the accounts. Rio, always chipper at the front desk. They were all suffering. Legal issues and red tape were tightening themselves around the boys like serpents, squeezing the will to fight out of them, exhausting them. All thanks to the head of Obsidian Corp., that snake charmer, Mr. Gilbert. The man in the expensive black suit and eyepatch had made it his life’s mission to destroy them, at any cost and it was wreaking havoc on Leon and his peace of mind.

You didn’t know exactly what he meant with “clear his head” until you rounded the corner and found him. Despite the chill, he was shirtless, in only his favorite black sweatpants, feet bare. Your gaze was immediately drawn to his wedding band, a tiny golden beacon that seemed to shine far brighter than the ship’s lighting should allow. Seeing it flooded your heart with warmth. You had really done it. Even though it was only a few days ago, the whole wedding already felt like a remembered dream, blurred images and feelings, a watercolor across your mind, soft and beautiful. Something you know you will spend a long time reflecting on, little details emerging from the fog each time you do.

You watched as he moved through the motions of different poses, transitioning from one to another fluidly, a water dancer in a warrior’s body. Starlight painted his skin, fighting with the artificial lights of the boat over just who could highlight his body better. You could see the flex of every muscle, every line of definition as he moved slowly, a paragon of control, unaware of you. You felt that warmth in your heart overflow, splash over the brim and gather in your stomach. He was beautiful. And he was your husband. Til death do you part.

Stepping out from the shadow, you cleared your throat, a smile crossing your lips when he paused, his face lighting up at the sight of you.

“Hello wife”, he said with that open, sweet smile you loved so much. 

“Hello husband.” Was using those words corny as hell? Yes. Did you care? Not one bit. “That looked great.” You came up next to him, a hand on the cold metal railing. Below, the water was lapping gently at the side of the ship, dark waves topped with pale crests of moonlight.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, eternally untameable by any brush or comb that dared try. Not even Jin’s extra strength hair gel stood a chance against the Dompteur coif. “I needed to gather my thoughts.” He looked at you, his expression softening with affection. You entered his life and love came along with you, braiding the strings of your hearts together with threads of happiness and loyalty and peace. He cleared his throat. “Want me to take you through a few transitions?”

You flashed him a smile. He was a phenomenal teacher and it always felt like a privilege to get one-on-one instruction from the center’s most popular yoga instructor. 

“Sure,��� you said, reaching up to tighten your ponytail.

He smiled, golden eyes bright with pride and excitement, as he reached out, helping you into the first position. It was simply standing, reaching your arms above your head and touching your palms. Mountain pose.

“Stretch up as tall as you can,” he said, voice low. His hands ran up your arms, supposedly to make sure they were straight enough. You felt something at a low heat start fanning out inside as his fingers danced along the inside of your elbow and forearms.

“That’s it,” he murmured before walking behind you. One large hand held your wrists lightly, the other wrapped around you, pressing itself against your stomach. The heat inside burned brighter. There was a tangible shift in the air, in the way his hands touched you. This was no longer instructive but something else, something incendiary. 

“Breathe." He spoke softly, his voice right by your ear.

You felt your heart beginning to race, as if it could escape the incalescence rising inside you. Stretching was supposed to be relaxing and right now….you were feeling anything but. Your breath shook as you tried to draw it into your lungs.

“Good, very good,” he practically purred. You were burning now, white hot.

He reached out again to adjust you, taking your arms in his hands and moving them until they were stretched out wide. “And now the hips.” His voice was smooth as whiskey, tempting as sin, meandrous in the way it wrapped around you. His hands held onto your hips, pivoting you until one leg was stretched out. He moved his other hand to your thigh, fingers deft and sure, pressing until you bent under his touch. Your muscles trembled.

“How’m I doing?” you asked through a throat as arid as the desert. He walked around to look at you from the front. It was his eyes that held you captive. There was no mistaking the gleam in them. Something bright and eager. Your blood felt white hot as it roared through your veins.

“Perfect,” he said as he stepped forward. You expected him to pull you toward him, to kiss you in that way he had, a lion taking his fill of his prize.

He didn’t. Instead he reached forward, pulling you out of warrior pose to place both your hands on the ship's metal railing, the cold a sharp and jarring contrast to your heated skin. Your gaze was met with an endless expanse of dark water, melding into a night sky, bedecked in glowing stars.

“Leon?” What was he thinking? Why hadn't he kissed you?

Then you felt his arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you against the hard planes of his body. His lips on the nape of your neck sent sparks cascading in a rush through you, a waterfall of embers. 

“You just hold on,” he breathed against your skin. His hand was lazily making its way down your spine, a mathematician fingering an abacus, the other holding onto your waist, steadying you.

“Leon," you gasped, turning your head only to have him gently push it back. He wanted your eyes on the water and the sky, on something uralt and primal, matching the need he's fed in you, a firestorm of anticipation and want. 

“We’re out in the open…” Your words were weak, mere smoke, no substance to them at all. You couldn't stop this even if you wanted to. And you didn't want to.

He knew. You could feel his leonine grin against the side of your neck, his teeth scraping your skin lightly. “Everyone else is in bed, sweet wife. Nothing here but the ocean and sky…."

He kissed you even as his hands ran down your sides, trailing fire in their wake. At your hips, his fingers slid into the waistband of your pants.

"Now", he whispered in your ear, sweet and smoldering, "Hold on tight to that railing and don’t turn around. No matter what I do.”

*

@aquagirl1978 @atelier-maroron @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @rhodolitesroseforclavis @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @redheadkittys

[bandydear]

I need to go crazy go stupid go aaaaaAAAaaa about Yellowjackets ShaunaJackie for a second forgive me. (I’m also on mobile so forgive the long post.)

Shauna’s been getting ready for this break up for awhile.

Her crush on Jackie has soured into resentment. All the things she used to love are the things she hates now. Things she thought belonged to her turn bitter in her mouth.

She knows. She knows that Jackie will never love her. She knows that it’s one-sided, and that she needs to grow up, move on, leave Jackie in that rear view mirror. She was gonna travel, write, and break hearts wherever she went.

Jackie is in love with Shauna. She doesn’t know how to articulate it. She probably doesn’t even know the extent. She just knows that she likes the power and attention of boys, but not boys themselves. She likes Shauna. She has plans for Rutgers involving some wine coolers and a shared room. (Oh my god, they were roommates.) She doesn’t know she was getting dumped.

Shauna was gonna do it at graduation. After nationals. Just bear down through the victory lap, then like ripping off a band-aid. “I’m not going to Rutgers, Jackie. I got in to Brown.”

And she’d get to leave before having to deal with the brunt of it.

Then the plane went down and that conversation stretched ahead in the unknowable future. A liminal space. Being trapped in the wilderness and being trapped in the death throes of queerplatonic romance. Slowly unstitching herself from the quilt of codependence while still in a situation that requires comfort. Jackie is Shauna’s teddybear. She’s comforting when allowed. Embarrassing around mixed company.

Jackie’s so annoyed. She was waiting. Waiting until college to cash in that virginity pact with Shauna in a wine cooler excuse. Now that two day rescue has stretched into months and Shauna and everyone are being weird. All the ways she used to comfort Shauna “You’re my best friend”, “You’re always there for me”—the whispered sleepover confessions, don’t seem to work anymore. She doesn’t understand that her attention doesn’t feel special to Shauna anymore. It’s just another reminder of an uneven affection. Thing is, even when she is always there for Shauna. Feeding her the last ration she has, putting her health first, it’s on the other side of a chasm of everything that’s gone unsaid.

Shauna deserves someone who sees her outside their own shadow. Shauna deserves someone who puts her on the pedestal. Lets her shine for her brilliance.

Jackie flips all her compliments into digs. “I love the way you look when you move” becomes “You’re a terrible dancer”, “Stop drinking by yourself and spend time with me” becomes “You can’t hold your liquor for shit”. It’s acceptable this way. It’s easier this way. Shauna’s never told her it hurts.

There was an alternate future. One of seeing each other on Thanksgiving the first—maybe second year of college and talking. In the car. About things. Always talking around it. Never speaking it aloud, but each reaching the conclusion that whatever it was wasn’t in the cards for them. In that future, at the tenth, maybe the twentieth reunion, Jackie shows up with a brilliant girlfriend and confesses over a shared joint that she had such a crush on Shauna in school. Maybe then, they give it a go. It’s probably too late though.

This was the future Shauna intended to have, when she went to bed angry, cold, and stubborn that night.

She thought they’d be rescued and Jackie would be the spotlight girl of the team. Outshining everyone before the camera and earning more resentment of the team. She thought they’d get to have that conversation once things died down.

She thought she’d have more time. But they never did. And Shauna’s still sitting in that car, waiting for them to be through.

[sichengtual]

how sweet it is (to be loved by you)

— summary: some loves are meant to run too deep, some loves are meant to stand the test. luckily, for you and cheol, nothing has ever posed a threat.

— pairing: choi seungcheol x reader.

— genre: fluff ; established relationship ; 70's au, part of the tiny dancer universe.

— word count: 2665

— warnings: mentions of smoking.

happy birthday to the love of my life @svtxsoju! i love you so so so much 💞

Seungcheol had never been hard to read.

From the very first moment you’d met, you’d seen he always wore his heart on his sleeve. You liked that about him; the way you could tell how he was feeling by paying attention to the size of his smile and the gleam in his eyes. For a while, you wondered if he was like that when only you were there to see. A sort of prize won after confidence, the kind that came with a great deal of trust. Your heart always leapt at the thought; of Seungcheol trusting you enough to let his walls down, of letting you in with such ease you’d wonder if he just wasn’t afraid of ever getting hurt… not by you, but by the world.

After a while, you finally came to see it wasn’t quite like that. Seungcheol just trusted people. Not only his friends (which you were at the time) or the people closest to him, but the strangers he passed by on the street. The people he ran into at the store. The men he made business with, the bands he came to meet, the fans he saw from afar. It was a beautiful thought, Seungcheol having a heart so big there was no sort of mistrust in it; but it was also a scary one, because you knew the world to be cruel. You knew the world to be undeserving of him.

“He’s gonna fall down on his ass,” Mingyu speaks next to you, a hand in the pocket of his torn up leather jacket and the other holding a cigarette. “Part of me wants you to tell him to come down but the other part wants revenge from him waking me up at 5 today.”

“You guys had a gig,” you laugh, taking a sip from your cup. It’s run cold, but the beverage leaves a sweet aftertaste on the back of your tongue, so you keep drinking. Summer is just around the corner anyways. “Not to defend him, but, you know.”

“Oh no, not you too,” Mingyu whines, throwing his head back as he speaks. He’s always reminded you of Seungcheol, and you wonder if that’s why the two seem to clash together so much. “The gig was at noon, no need to see the rise of dawn and scare my sleep away with Chan’s sleeping mask.”

“Oh, fuck you!” You hear from the back of the yard, Chan’s voice somehow louder than the playing vinyl.

His laughter, followed by Mingyu’s quiet giggle and the careless strum of a guitar, brings a smile on your lips.

Night has barely begun to fall down. The sky is tinged bubblegum pink and the clouds have started to change color, adorning the afternoon sky in an array of orange shades. It’s the moment before it starts turning down, but even when the light threatens to decrease, temperature only but rises. It’s a warm summer afternoon, with friends laughing at the top of their longs and music playing as soft background music, setting the scene even when the melody runs ignored.

It had been a while since you last had spent time with the band. They had just gone on their first big world tour and were just getting welcomed back home, and you can swear there’s something about finally knowing the world that allows their smiles to grow a little bit wider. It’s as if they’ve collected happiness at every spot, experiences turned into emotion as they let themselves completely feel every single moment. It’s as if they let their hearts be free once they’ve known how it is to let their bodies do the same.

“Why did he even get up there, anyways?” You ask, taking a sip from your punch glass. It’s sweet and cool against the growing heat.

“Seungkwan and Hoshi dared him,” Mingyu answers, smiling when Soonyoung tries to excuse his actions, yelling about some book incident involving Cheol and Jun. “Can’t believe he’s about to fall on his face in front of you for a slice of cheese pizza, though.”

“It’s a matter of honor!” Seungcheol exclaims between jolts of laughter, fingers forming a peace sign as Joshua pulls his portable camera out of his bag and points it at him. “Wait, what is this for?”

He tries to pose as he stands over a wobbly table, one of his hands holding a glass of pink colored punch and the other pointing to the camera while he tries to keep still for however long it takes Joshua to focus the lens. The guitarist isn’t the best at photographs, but his enthusiasm makes up for the lack of skill.

“Ivy and Jun are doing some groovy memory thing,” he explains, breaking into a laugh, shrugging in the direction of the couple. “Don’t worry, I’ll document every step of the process.”

Your boyfriend’s mouth opens wide at Joshua’s words, the peace sign in his hand quickly becoming a single pointed finger, eyes blazing as he moves his hand in the air.

“As soon as these fifteen minutes are up I’m getting down from here,” Seungcheol says, each word enunciated in the form of a loud whine, a pout forming on his lips as he berates his friend. “Be sure to document the slice of pizza in my mouth, Bob Dylan!”

“That would be so fucking gross,” Minghao comments from the hammock, a pair of pastel yellow sunglasses resting on the tip of his nose. “Trust me, no one would ever want to see that.”

“And Josh wishes he was Bob Dylan!” Mingyu laughs.

“I bet you wish you got the riff today right, tho,” Chan teases, another fit of laughter ensuing. Mingyu responds, and Minghao giggles.

Seungcheol turns to see his friends from where he’s standing, chest growing tight at the sight. It’s his family, after all, reunited and relaxed after what was, probably, the start to a lifelong adventure. You meet him halfway, smiling as you point the glass of punch in his direction in a silent cheer. It’s your family as much as it’s his, and there’s a sense of pride growing in the center of your stomach as you realize what an honor it is to be a part of it.

He smiles, and it doesn’t really seem like he’s all the way across the yard on top of a table that threatens to break down, because he’s truly never felt closer to you.

…

Hours later, the pizza discussion has quieted and night has finally fallen down.

Seungcheol ended up not falling, breaking literally everyone but Ivy, Jun, and your expectations, but earning Joshua quite a groovy photo (he had almost fallen down, after all). The beginning of the entire thing is still a bit of a mystery to you, but with the information you’ve been given, you’re not completely sure you’d actually want to know. After all, the entire fifteen minutes had given you a good laugh and a lifetime of worries, all at the same time.

“Here,” Seungcheol’s voice breaks you apart from your thoughts. He’s holding a yellow ceramic cup full of steaming tea, arm stretched in your direction. “Can you believe Seungkwan was trying to hide his Earl Gray from me?”

“Actually, yeah, I can,” you answer as you laugh, taking the cup from Seungcheol’s hands while he sits on the grass next to you. “You don’t even drink tea.”

“No, but he knows you do,” he says. He speaks as if he’s telling you a secret, words low, soft against the wind, entering your ears like honey as your lips curl up into a smile.

Seungcheol’s gentleness is present in every thought, in every gesture. It’s in the thinking of you to ensure your comfort, the going out of his way to make you happy, that lets you know he treats your happiness like he’s guarding a flower that’s just about to bloom. He touches it with the tips of his fingers, caring for it and nurturing it, helping your smile grow by the day. A smile directed at him.

“And yet he guards it from the both of us,” you say, raising the cup to your lips and taking a small sip. It’s sweet, a bit too sweet, perhaps, but the saccharine taste feels like velvet against your tongue, so you continue drinking. You’ve always liked sweet things, and Seungcheol has always known. “Are you not gonna have anything?”

“Seungkwan’s coffee brew and my stomach aren’t really the best of friends,” he jokes, eyes fixed on the midnight sky. “Not after last time, at least. The good thing about the tour was that all the coffee we got was made by other people.”

“Hey, he takes a lot of pride in his coffee brew!”

“That doesn’t make it any lighter!”

He doesn’t quite remember just how long it’s been since he’s taken a second to stop and breathe in like he’s doing now, the feeling of laying down without a worry having been completely alienated. It’s like he’s always on track; always moving here or there, physically or in thought, and stopping finally means letting his thoughts lay down too. He lets himself feel every inch of the warm breeze hitting his skin and rustling his hair, enjoying every second of finally watching the stars shine bright above his head.

Seungcheol is always hearing Jun talk about just how much he likes looking at the stars, and now he finally understands.

“Hey, look up there,” Seungcheol whispers, nudging your shoulder with his and pointing to the sky with his finger. You’re not sure he’s drawing your attention to any spot in particular, and, to be honest, neither is he. “It reminds me of you.”

“What exactly are you looking at?” You ask, and it’s somewhere between a laugh and a question, but he doesn’t comment on it. He’s always loved the way you talk, because, even if for a second, he feels like happiness drips from every pore. “You’re pointing at like, at least five different stars right now.”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. You’re each and every single one of them. You’re there with me, lightning my path with every step I take.”

You’re not sure, but you’d think that’s the moment the world stops spinning, because it’s just the two of you; it’s just you and Seungcheol, and your warm cup of tea, and the crazed laughter of your friends flows through the air like the background scene of a film you’ll watch over, and over, and over again. It’s like the moment and his words become etched so deep inside your heart they become a part of who you are, and of who you will always be, because there’s nothing that encompasses happiness better than the love you and Seungcheol hold for each other.

“Are you coming for Jun’s job now?” You ask, voice breaking as tears begin to prickle your eyes.

“Should we switch places?” Seungcheol follows, letting himself fall completely on his back, feeling the grass grazing against the soft linen of his purple button-up. His tone is light, relaxed. Gentle. “I’m pretty sure Jun could make for a convincing business man.”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure he would. He’s different now, isn’t he? He feels a bit more confident. A bit more secure.”

“Love does that to you, I guess. It makes you believe in yourself, because you know someone else does it too.”

And it’s just so much of a feeling growing inside your chest that you’re sure this is exactly where you’re meant to be, and Seungcheol is exactly who you’re meant to be with. You look at your surroundings, and he’s nestled so deep within your soul it’s almost like he’s everywhere. Every single place, every single sound, every single scent; he's everything.

“Can I have this dance?”

He moves, rustling in place as he extends his hand over to you.

“You can have all of them.”

It’s almost like it’s your thoughts speaking, voices intertwining, souls coming together. He takes your hand in his and you follow his lead as he stands up, pulling you to his chest with such gentleness in his touch it feels like you’re made of glass. He doesn’t move for a few seconds, but you don’t really think he needs to, because as soon as his fingers tangle with yours, it’s almost like you’re flying.

Somewhere in the garden, sitting around a campfire, Joshua and Mingyu’s guitars begin playing a song you both know, and you barely notice the moment your feet start moving. They dance on their own accord, gliding over the grass in a pace that doesn’t quite match the one set by the instruments, but neither of you fight it. He tightens the grip on your fingers and sets them over his chest, moving in closer to your frame.

You can feel him in what’s almost a hug by how close you’re standing, and it’s only when Joshua and Mingyu begin singing that you move your head up to take a look at him. The melody is sweet, raising into the sky over the crackling of a roaring fire. Dark, thick wisps of hair fall against his forehead and over the golden frame of his glasses, completely rustled by the summer breeze. You know it’s only a matter of time before he’ll try to tussle it back against his head, no doubt counterproductive, further messing up his (once) carefully gelled hairstyle.

He looks just the way he did when you last saw him before the tour, and, in a way, he looks a completely different person. There’s a sense of growth, of experience, of adventure nestling in his smile and yet, the look in his eyes expresses just as much love for you as it’s always done.

“I missed you,” he says, words soft against your skin.

He pulls you in even closer, lips coming into contact with your forehead. He presses a kiss; light, soft, gentle. And yet loving, lingering. It’s an expression of a love that doesn’t quite pressure to grow, that doesn’t quite define itself by the closeness in touch or time. It’s born on the surface, but it travels down so deep it lays untouched by whatever might pose a threat. It blooms, so wildly and fierce, and so close to your own souls it’s shaped them into what they are. It’s what you are, and you can feel it dripping down your very self whenever you’re close. It’s where you’ve found a sense of home.

“I missed you too.”

You smile, letting your forehead rest against his lips. He takes in a breath, closing his eyes. The cup of tea sits long forgotten over the grass, but steam still rises from the top. The liquid lays untouched, unmoving; but still warm.

…

The morning rises, and you’re there to see.

Seungcheol is asleep in the guest room of Seungkwan’s field house, resting calmly beneath the thick duvet you had shared the night before. His arm is still splayed over the space you once occupied, and there’s a smile resting on his lips. His hand is balled into a fist, clutching the soft, velvet sheets. Light begins to seep through the window, filtering through the curtains. A soft ray falls over his face.

In the backyard, you look up at the sky. Once dark, it’s now the most beautiful shade of gold you’ve ever seen. Air runs between the trees, and you can feel it move against your skin. The world starts waking up as you smile, and you can feel every second of it. Joshua and Mingyu sleep calmly on the couch, and Minghao brews his coffee in silence. Ivy reads a book while caressing Jun’s hair, his head resting on their lap. Seungkwan, Soonyoung, Chan and Vernon busy themselves with breakfast, the faint scent of burning toast reaching your nose.

Your family is there with you, and you feel love all around.

[random-imagines-blog]

Shine {Tom Cruise x Reader One Shot}

Requested by: @beatlebabe1996​ Wordcount: 2236 Summary: Great food, great dancing, and a bit of jealousy - what more could a date need?

As early 2000s as this was about the sound - the club was popping. It wasn’t the usual sort of club filled with twenty years grinding on one another with barely distinguishable beats playing in the background. It was a Latin club, with food and dancing and drink. The spice of the food was rivaled by the spice of the band that was playing tonight. This was where you felt the most in your element, this was your place. And that was why you had brought your date here tonight. It was also relatively low-key, where most of the people were focused on the band and the chef rather than the patrons. Something that your date for the night, a Mr. Tom Cruise, appreciated. You recommended a dish for him and that was what he had ordered - a definitely win in your books. You liked a man who was adventurous and yet trusting. He knew that you knew what you were doing.

“So you come here often then?” Tom asked, leaning back in his chair. He had shed his leather jacket to show the red button up shirt that he was wearing. It was tight on the arms, showing off the muscles that his constant work-out routine had produced. The color was great too, it added a little Latin flair to him. Your own outfit matched almost perfectly.

“I’m a regular,” You admitted, leaning in, playing with the straw of your drink. “The staff all know me by name here. It’s how I knew that we would be safe. They don’t care about celebrities so they won’t be posting anything on social media about your visit.”

“Our visit,” Tom laughed, taking a drink of his beer. “You seem more like the celebrity here. Even the band has been looking at you.”

“It’s rare that I  sit down this long,” You admitted. Your eyes caught that of the waitress coming around, your food on her platter. You straightened up and licked your lips, more than ready for the meal.

“What do you mean?” Tom asked, straightening himself up as well. There was a smile, and then thank yous to the waitress, and forks were picked up.

“Oh, I hit the dance floor,” You grinned, a sparkle in your eye. “That’s one of the best reasons to come here. The music, the dancing, the atmosphere. You get a good coupe of people on that floor, the whole place will be moving. Are you up for the challenge after we eat?”

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stand after all of this,” Tom laughed, digging into the food on his plate. You chuckled along with him, but remained hopeful. Dancing was one of your absolute favorite things to do, and not to toot your own horn, but you were good at it. No matter how handsome or famous this man was, he wasn’t going to be able to get into your heart without taking a few steps.

“Is that so?” He asked. You nodded, and watched as he took his first bite. You were waiting with bated breath to find out if he enjoyed it as much as you hoped that he would. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, then took a sip of water. “Spicy,” He explained. You nodded again, and continued to look, waiting for an opinion and not a fact. “It’s really good.”

“I knew you would think so!” You stabbed your fork into your own food, cutting off a piece for your consumption. “The food here is the best too. It’s the most underrated restaurant in the city, but it’s kind of great that way. No lines to get in. Plenty of room for dancing. And the food never takes too long to get to the table.”

“My kinda place,” Tom said with a grin. You two ate in relative silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just two people enjoying a meal, and each others company. Every time that his foot bumped against yours under the table, though, you felt like you were going to start blushing. You thought about saying something about it but decided to just let the moment be that - a moment, without you ruining it. “Should we get dessert?” He asked after you two finished eating, picking up the small dessert menu that was on the table. You were about to recommend one of the items when you were interrupted.

“Y/N!” One of the waiters, Antonio said, coming up to your table. “I just noticed you were here. I got assigned to the left section tonight. How are you doing? You look amazing tonight.”

“Oh hey, thank you. I tried my best. Date and all,” You said with a grin, looking over at Tom. He chuckled, and looked back at the dessert menu. “How are you doing, Antonio?”

“Same old, same old. Just got on my break.” He said, looking between you and Tom with a grin. He raised his eyebrow at you as if to say, ‘Really? You bagged Tom Cruise?’ To which you just replied with a confident nod and a smirk in return. “I was going to ask if you wanted to dance, but since you’re busy, I’ll go and find Gabriella-”

“And get your toes trod on?” You asked in horror. You loved the bartender, she was a complete sweetheart and always full of laughs, but she was a horrible dancer. “Do you mind, Tom? At the very least, let me help save this guys feet.”

“Not at all,” Tom said, still perusing the menu, though it was rather short. He must be reading through the ingredients or something. “I’m excited to see your moves.”

“Better watch then,” You winked daringly at him, before allowing yourself to be lead to the dance floor. Normally you wouldn’t let even wild horses drag you from a date, especially from someone as good looking, kind and charming as Tom. But this was also a chance to show off for him.

Dancing had been an outlet for you all of your life. It gave you a sense of control over your body that you could feel good about, especially when you had been a teenager and it felt like you didn’t have control over anything. It brought on a confidence that you needed to get to where you were in life. And that confidence landed you a date with one of the best men that the city, perhaps even the world, had to offer. The fame wasn’t a bonus to you, the attention wasn’t something that you craved. It was just him as a person, and you felt so completely lucky that he even looked at you twice. You didn’t even know that he felt the same way about you.

The band started up a beat with a strong rhythm and a quick tempo. It was perfect for Salsa dancing, which was exactly what you wanted. You and Antonio both knew the moves like the back of your hand, which meant you didn’t have to waste time worrying about getting everything right. You could just relax and have some fun.

Your heels clicked against the hardwood floors of the restaurant as you danced with Antonio. You started apart, and then slowly came together, a familiarity between the two of you because you had been friends for so long. You had been dancing together since you started coming here as a teenager, when he had just been a bus boy. You shimmied your hips as you two spun around one another, under each other’s arms, him dipping you, back and forth. It was a very sexy way of dancing. A very sensual and fiery dance. But you kept things under control, making sure not to get too close. You did have your date watching after all.

Your eyes kept flickering over to him to see that he was watching very intently. In fact, there was a look on his face that was almost jealousy. He couldn’t stop looking at you. Even as you and Antonio separated for a small part of the song, he was following you, and not Antoni, who was probably a better dancer than even you. You shot him a smile, then got right back into it, ending it with a couple more twirls and then the song came to a finish. You were a little breathless but also exhilarated, a high that only exercise could bring.

“Always a pleasure,” Antonio said with a little bow. “And my toes thank you.”

“You’ve really got to get yourself a girlfriend,” You chuckled. You turned to go back to your table, only to find that it was empty because Tom was approaching you on the dance floor.

“Mind if I cut in?” He asked to Antonio, though his voice wasn’t nearly as pleasant as it was when you had been taking earlier. “Considering we’re on a date and all, I would think not.”

Ouch.

“All yours,” Antonio said, bowing his head towards Tom as well. He raised his eyebrows at you as he walked away backwards, holding his hands up in surrender. You just shook your head subtly then looked at Tom. He had his hand out to you, and you took it, feeling the warmth of his body heat against yours. You haven’t been this close to him before. You had to admit, it was pretty nice. He looked even more handsome up close than he did from across the table.

“Were you a little jealous?” You asked, as the next song started. “If you were, that’s actually kind of cute.”

“Maybe a little,” Tom admitted. The song was a slower one, so you tended to stay close. He spun you beneath his arm and you twirled expertly, then ended right back against his chest. “Was it that obvious?”

“Perhaps you’re not the amazing actor that you think you are,” You challenged.

“I don’t think that matters much to you, does it?” He asked. He had a point there, and you lightly shook your head. His arm dropped a little lower below your waist, going towards dangerous territory. He had a bit of a smug face, which was pretty adorable.

You did a quick spin out of his arms on that one, to make his face change. He had to know now that you had the upper hand - and that you had a sense of humor. And that you could throw in a little bit of spice into everything. When you went back into him, his arm was a little higher this time.

“A little handsy for a first date, Mr Cruise,” You said, amused.

“What can I say,” He grinned. “I perform my own stunts.”

You laughed at that, and swayed along with him to the music - up until the band started to heat it up, bringing back in the fun. You stayed on the dance floor, waiting to see what Tom was going to do. He went along with it, rather than drag you off. Slow dancing was easy, but many men were intimidated by the faster steps. Tom wasn’t the same way. He actually managed to keep up with you, his steps quick, his eyes on you, his smile on his face nonstop. Those hips didn’t lie.

“What a daredevil,” You teased. “What other stunts do you intend to do tonight?”

“Well, it all depends,” Tom said, looking into your eyes as you spun side by side.

“On?”

“Where this night is leading. I might dare to kiss you on your doorstep...”

“How bold,” You smirked, dancing around him, looking over your shoulder to keep up the eye contact.

“Or I can show you a couple of moves if you’re feeling this as much as I am.”

“Ballsy,” You laughed. The song came to a close and you and Tom clapped for the band. You leaned against him, back to his chest, and his arms went around you, holding you close. You liked that feeling. You liked him a lot. And you usually weren’t this sort of person but ... but you were interested in what sort of moves that Tom had off of the dance floor. “I like it. I suppose I could let you take me home - if you really think that your moves are that good.”

He seemed a little off-guard that you had agreed with the idea so quickly. But he covered it up by bringing you back to the table and quickly throwing down some money and putting his jacket back on. The dancing, the food - all of this was an amazing aphrodisiac, and you were feeling the mood with Tom right now. You hurried with your own jacket, and finished off your drink which you had left behind when you had gotten up to dance. You left together hand in hand, and he showed off his gentlemanly he could be by opening the passenger door for you, and waiting until you were settled in with your seatbelt on to close it.

If  he kept up this perfect combination of sweet and spicy, you were very excited to see what moves he was going to show you in the bedroom tonight.

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

How about a musician reader x character fic? Maybe a singer who performs in a cafe, or a classical musician who plays in an orchestra, or who plays in a rock band? I dunno I have a lot of ideas in my mind but I'm just too lazy to write them :D What do you think?

So here's the baseline you gave me - a musician reader fic x character. Here's what I decided to fill in for this lovely fic- a fluffy bsd collage Au where the reader is majoring in music and has the side job of a stage performer. Then, because they would match well, so I decided to go with a Fyodor x reader. Hope this is alright!

Words- 1728 ~

Hearts Composition | fyodor x musician reader | (collage Au)

Music thudded against the walls, muffled only by the thick layers that hid backstage from the audience. The aroma of heavily worn perfume surrounded people in pleasant bliss. Waitresses and waiters swayed with heavy plates rested along arms and in hands. Carrying much-wanted foods and booze to awaiting customers. The collection of accents muted under the heavy beats of taps and clicks from the metal of the dancer's shoes. Picking up a smaller wooden, finely carved, and rather expensive model of a violin, stood yourself. With a smile, your hands trailed the curves and strings of the delicate instrument. With all the work you had to do for university you had truly didn’t have time to be doing some minimum wage job. Though you didn’t care much, if you could play something, it would be fine. You performed here every once in a blue moon. You weren't one of the performers, but they would grace you with the intermission on busy nights. Much like these nights, when the crowd was full and the people rowdy and in need of constant entertainment. You could soothe those shouts and demands of perverted drunk men; Soothe the cries of broken women and rich spoiled children.

Stepping onto the wooden stage as the lights dim, allowing you the bare minimum of the peeping moonlight to find the microphone located at the center. Inhaling as your anxiety turned into bliss, you waited. As the colored light flew on, you rested your chin on the soft velvet. Holding up the bow, you set it to the strings. With a final inhale, your eyes fluttered shut as you played a classical piece; one constructed for an upcoming project that was due for your music composition class. You had nearly all the string instruments you could play finished; all but the cello. With every strum of your instrument, the crowd fell silent, enjoying the break from all the heavy excitement. Even the children's chatter soothed down, so your instrument could echo off the thin walls of the pub.

Sipping nothing but a cup of tea with a small side of biscuits, a male leaned in his seat. Sitting with a pristine, perfect posture, he listened to the soft sound. The way his violet eyes slowly lidded, and his hair fell back against his face, lit his features in a urethral, almost divine light. His mind working to recognize the piece. As an up-and-coming musician, he had several classics memorized. He could join in by ear, or even write out the full pieces without needing to see the original sheet music. This piece wasn’t something he recognized, could it be an original piece?

If you were to open your eyes as you neared the end of the first piece, you would notice his gaze rested on you. Eyes open halfway with hidden interest, and yet, the stare was attractive. The blank look that hid everything beneath a mask laid strewn across his features. As you finished and stood up, surrounded by applause, he watched your every stride. It was funny, he thought he could almost recognize you.

~

With shaking hands, your fingers typed within a group chat of other college students you had met and become close to. “I’m so nervous. I have to hand in that piece today. I pulled an all-nighter trying to decide on the cello part, but nothing sounded right, so now I might not get a full mark.” You could hear the whine through the text. When replies of good luck came to you, except for two replies, you chuckled. One read “could always just die before handing it in.” Another wrote, “I've got the wine ready.” laughing to yourself as you walked into the classroom and set down the folder in the bin. Glancing through the room, you took a seat with your head down. It was unusual for you to arrive early to class, but your anxiety with this project was slowly picking at you to just get there and hand it in. With twenty minutes till class started, you decided to pull out your laptop and listen to the recording from last week.

Taking out your notebook, you started jotting notes about small things to improve, and things you hated about your performances. You didn’t notice somebody else enter the classroom rather early. Carrying his bag, he set it down at one of the desks before the sound of a violin entered his ears. Sitting down he listened to the melody you had played several nights before. As the piece finished, his eyes traveled to the bin. Now understanding where you had gotten the piece from, he sighed. “You’re not half bad, you played a little flat, but it sounds okay. Becoming a flustered disaster, you froze glancing over to him. This wasn’t the first time you had noticed him in class, he was hard to miss. His completely perfect grades, perfect posture, and looks made him stand out. Not only that, but he had strong ideals and his debate skills could sway anybody. Though, you knew it wasn’t really skill, more manipulation. To add to everything his Russian accent stuck out with every word he spoke. “Could you play that again?” hesitating at first you restarted the piece.

He took out a blank piece of sheet music and started scribbling down notes. As if memorizing the piece, he tapped his fingers before bringing his thumb to his mouth and chewing on it. Tapping his foot as the piece came to an end, he glanced at the time before walking over to one of the room's cellos. His face resembled discontent as he looked at it. Looking to where he sat, you realized he didn’t have his with him. You presumed it had to do with the instrument being heavy and somewhat large. Though for somebody of his height, it may not be that big of a deal. Perhaps he didn’t want to lug it around with him, considering he had all of those other books for classes. “So uh, why did you want to hear it again?” you mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck as you watched him strum a few strings. He was checking the accuracy and pitch of the notes. With a contempt sigh, he shrugged.

“Your writing is considerably well done. I wished to try something that is all.” He did not shed a glance as he sat down and ran the bow across the strings. The sound was heaven within your ears, but to him, it was nothing but ordinary. The sound of a well-made expensive Russian model, the model he owned, was much better than this school-provided variant. As the melody played, you recognized it as your piece. Smiling slightly as your eyes sparkled. You bolted from your seat to grab your folder; the music that was due in 10 minutes.

Looking over the cello part you had constructed, you changed the key signature to hold a few new sharps and took away some of the flats. Boldly, you handed the male the sheet music and pointed as if asking "Is this the piece you were playing?" Setting the cello aside, he ran a finger over the bars with a nod. “So that’s what I was missing! You're a god at memorizing and creating. Now I'm excited to see what you concocted for the presentation.” You smiled lightly before placing the folder in the bin. “Oh, I never got your name. I’m-” he cut you off before you could formally introduce yourself.

“You’re y/n. I do pay attention to people who aren't a complete waste of time.” The layers of his ego began to shine through his solid expression. The way you'd called him god just then, was another layer added to the ever-growing ego this man had. He thought he was above everybody else; he indeed was. In every way possible, he was above the normal human. With an exceptionally sharp mind, emotionless facade, and a spin of extraordinary talents, he was a god among men. “I’m taken aback, you don’t know me.” frowning you sat back at your desk. Leaning your head against the palm of your hand with a frown, you clicked your tongue.

Coming up with a sharp reply, you rolled your eyes. “Please, who doesn't know the great Dostoevsky. You’re only at the top of our class. Correcting myself before you can, the top in everything.” He snickered his brows raising in interest. His lips curled into a smirk moments before breaking to speak to you again.

“Consider your words before speaking. That wasn’t exactly the best wording to say "I'm better than everybody at everything.” It took you several seconds to realize what had gone through his head. Of course, he understood what you were saying, but he also managed to nitpick everything.

Blushing you placed your hands in front of your face. “I didn't think about it because that’s not what I was saying!” he snickered again. Listening to him stand you peeked from your hands to watch him set away the cello and bow.

“How often do you perform at that pub?” He switched the discussion relatively quickly. But with the sudden pause of your reaction and the setting away of the instrument, it flowed nicely with the conversation.

“Once or twice a month?” You answer honestly. A bit upset by the lack of real performances you had.

“Next time, I'll reserve something, and we’ll set something up. I want to see if you can play something… difficult.” It wasn't much of a question, more a demand. Nodding you wrote down your number, sliding it to the student with a smile as the bell rang.

For the next week, the two of you met in the unused rooms Fyodor managed to snag for practicing. He often shook his head at your way of playing. He did compliment the several different instruments you would take with you. From the cello to the violin, there wasn’t much you couldn’t play. Each was expertly designed and crafted to fit your arm length and height. Custom made and shipped from all over the world. Eventually, it became a routine, going to his concerts as he attended yours. While you praised how good he was, he would find the smallest mistakes to condemn you about.

[prismartist]

Haul Away Jay

Fandom: Just Roll With It (Riptide)

Words: 3175

CW: implied/referenced character death

Relationships: Chip & Jay Ferin & Gillion Tidestrider

Summary: Jay is bored. Very, very bored. So, understandably, she tries to find a way to entertain herself.

She wasn't quite expecting the entertainment to come in the form of a song and dance, or that the other two would be roped into it.

None of them are complaining, though.

A/N: @tokencishetchip idk if you remember but you asked to be tagged for this a little while back !! here's the albatrio having fun with a sea shanty :D

Ao3

– – –

If there was anything that Jay Ferin knew as she leaned on the railing of the Albatross one peaceful day, watching the sun slowly set beyond the horizon, it’s that she was unmistakably, undoubtedly, incredibly, and painfully, bored.

Maybe it was the juxtaposition of the current situation to cursed islands, cursed casinos, or crewmates being dumbasses (well, that wasn't really a curse, but it sure felt like one sometimes), but standing on a boat in the middle of an endless calm sea under an endless calm sky wasn’t the most exciting event in the world.

Jay let out a sigh that floated out onto the indifferent blue water. She heard Gillion shout something from atop the crow’s nest, and Chip shouting back in turn as he walked down from the helm and started lighting the lamps. It was nice to see the two working in harmony.

Old man Earl was nowhere to be seen, probably in the kitchen making dinner and more orange juice. Jay was looking forward to that the most right now. She wasn’t sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

Well, she thought as she redirected her attention back to the ocean, if only they could find the adventure they all hoped for.

Her mind drifted in an attempt to entertain herself, going back to her days in the tavern. She had spent hours there working her butt off for loud, gruff soldiers, laying down in bed afterwards and thinking that her aching bones and five hours of sleep weren’t worth it. Over time she had learned to ignore the exhaustion, but compared to the adrenaline-inducing fights and rewarding victories she experienced now, Jay didn’t miss it.

Suddenly, a melody started to creep into her mind, a tune that she didn’t expect to hear in a long while. While tied to the memory of the tavern, the feeling the song settled in her is calm, comforting even. Jay closed her eyes, allowing herself to listen to it.

Apple sang serenely as she sat on the crow’s nest, and her chirps melded into the melody that Jay now recognized.

It was an old sea shanty, one that Jay often heard from the navy soldiers that frequented the tavern. She recalled memories of drunk men singing joyously, unprofessional in their performance, as if they were celebrating being freed from their ruthless job even for a night. Sometimes though, the way they would sing would come out soft and genuine as they sat in relative sobriety after a hard-fought battle, reflecting as the first few hours of the dawn crept up behind them and the orange rays shone on the mournful men. Jay would look on, almost in awe, unable to believe these were the same people who maimed and killed and imprisoned.

Jay hummed the beginning of the tune to the best of her abilities, and did not notice Chip cast a curious glance at her. She faltered as she lost the words, struggling to remember.

How did it go again…?

Oh. Right.

“Oh maiden, oh maiden, the love to I,” Jay sang softly. “I adore the shimmer, the shimmer, the shine in your eyes.”

She smiled and started to continue, but was cut off suddenly by the sound of Chip’s voice. Her eyes flew open and she turned in his direction, having half a mind to snap at him, but stopped upon realizing what exactly he was saying.

Or, rather, singing.

“It enamours, enamours, thy light to my life.” Chip was as surprised as Jay, eyes wide as he continued easily as if by instinct. His voice was surprisingly smooth and not all that bad. “Thy touch, carries, it carries, my soul to the sky.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, processing what had just happened.

Jay tilted her head, and spoke, “How do you-”

“I-it’s a song, I– the Black Rose Pirates used to sing it all the time.” Chip saw a small flash of a memory, of fireflies fluttering around in hanging terrariums, of voices chanting the same song as Chip joined in. He gestured a bit wildly, as if he was trying to swat away the image. “You?”

“I heard it in the tavern a lot.” Jay chuckled, a little in disbelief. “I guess it’s more popular than I thought.”

Chip vaguely remembered being lifted into the air by a laughing Arlind, teasing him for messing up a line, the golden glow overhead. “I guess so-”

“And my love! I swear in the sun and the rain!” The booming voice of Gillion Tidestrider rang down, causing Chip and Jay to look up and see the Triton slide down the pole, landing with a flourish. He straightened and completed the verse in a perfect baritone. “That someday, our hands will intertwine once again.”

Gillion grinned at the other two’s astonished faces. “That's an oversea song, is it not? My sister taught it to me. I much enjoy it as well.”

Chip turned to Jay. “So definitely more popular than you thought,” he said.

“Yeah,” Jay muttered, feeling a grin grow on her face. “A little different in some places, but yeah.”

She found herself tapping her fingers against the boat to the beat of the shanty and humming the post-verse interlude. Gill and Chip noticed as well, and their eyes trained on her, silently assigning her the role of the shantyman.

Jay tensed up upon noticing. She’s not used to performing, especially in front of an audience (could you call two people an audience?). It’s far from one of her strong suits.

But after a moment of contemplation, she eventually decided that, fuck it, it’s time to sing.

They started this ballad, they might as well finish it.

“Oh damsel, oh damsel, my heart belongs to thee.” Her voice cracked a bit on the high note, which Chip snickered at, but Jay merely shot him a dirty look and continued. “If you are troubled, so troubled, you must only call on me.”

“And though it rages, it rages, the condescending sea,” Chip joined in, his smirk slowly morphing into a genuine smile.

“For you I know my journey will succeed,” he finished, noticing Gillion’s voice join in. Chip glanced at him for a second before letting out a soft chuckle.

Jay started stomping on the boat to get the beat going. To her delight, Chip clapped rhythmically and Gillion followed both their suits. Energized, Jay hummed louder.

“And my love, I swear in the waves and whirlpools,” all three sang together, “Soon we will meet and once again become whole.”

With a laugh, Jay skipped closer to the center of the ship. She spun and gestured, mimicking the dances she had observed at Loffinlot, imagining a band accompanying her as she sang as loud as she could.

La, la la la, la la la, la la la.

Gillion was quick to join her, imitating her dance. His heavy boots threatened to break the wood they danced on, but Jay only cared for the lovely bass beat and snare they happened to offer. She grinned at him approvingly, and Gill grinned back.

Off to the side, Chip hung back, providing the main melody.

“Oh lover, oh lover, don’t you dare cry.” Jay reached out a hand to Gillion, who took it. “But laugh and laugh under the pristine blue sky.” She raised it and lead him in a spin. “And never, oh never, would I ever lie. I wish nothing more than for us to reunite!”

Gillion grabbed Jay by the waist, catching her off-guard, but as he lifted her into the air, she loosened up and cheered, feeling the song come to an end.

When she landed, Jay made a show of dusting herself off before bowing to Gillion. Gill, ever the gentleman, bowed back, and Jay giggled.

She looked over to Chip, leaning against the railing and watching with a rather deflated smile. Jay raised an eyebrow. That didn’t look right.

Absent-mindedly tapping his toes, no longer minding the beat, Chip stewed deep in his thoughts. Seeing his friends dance their hearts out was a nice scenario, don’t get him wrong, but despite the undeniable want to join in the festivities, there was a hesitance that Chip couldn’t quite get over. Maybe it’s the weird ache when he remembered voices that he’d never hear again. Maybe it’s because he didn’t want to interrupt the others’ joy. Who knew. Chip sure didn’t.

And Chip definitely didn’t know why the sight of Jay marching towards him made him panic.

“Hey,” Jay said, and Chip immediately heard the over-friendliness in her voice. “What’re you doing, moping in the corner? You said you and the Black Rose Pirates sang this all the time, right?” She leaned forward and locked eyes with Chip, who tensed up. “So, show us what you got.”

She daintily held out a hand, and with it, a challenge. “Dance with us.”

Chip’s eyes grew impossibly wide as his face flushed. “Oh, nah, nahh, that’s okay, I’m really not a dancer,” he stammered. “And you guys are already done with the song, so I really don’t-”

“Gill.” Jay smirked. “Take the beat.”

“Wha-”

“On it!” Gillion grinned with sharp teeth and began to stomp and clap again. He hummed deeply, the tune once again emanating through the ship.

“Jay,” Chip begged, taking a step back. “I don-”

“Nope, round two, coward!”

“Ja-AAAAY!”

Chip yelped as Jay grabbed his arm and dragged him to the newly appointed dance floor, guiding his kicking and screaming form into one of dance. She took one of Chip’s hands and held it up, putting her other hand on his shoulder. “Your free hand on my waist,” she reminded him, ignoring his confused sputtering. “And one, two, three, go.”

She lead the dance in a sort of wild, messy foxtrot, stretching their clasped hands in the direction they move in, side skipping energetically. Chip stumbled at first, caught off-guard, but he quickly adjusted to her same pace, glancing at the ground to make sure he was keeping up. Seeing his face relax and the corners of his mouth quirk up, Jay smiled at him encouragingly.

“Sing, shantyman, it’s your turn,” she said.

Chip’s expression turned into horror once again, gulping as he scrambled to remember the words in time for the melody.

“O-oh maiden, oh maiden, the love to I,” sang Chip.

“I adore the shimmer, the shimmer, the shine in thy eyes,” he and Jay sang together.

“It enamours, enamours, thy light to my li-IIFE, JAY!” Chip screamed as Jay gave him a spin, laughing at his surprised shriek. “Jay, don’t just spin me without warning!”

“You’re being sloppy, shantyman,” Jay teased. “Keep up with the song.”

Chip glared, but continued nonetheless, “And my love, I swear in the sun and the rain.”

Jay gave him another spin, but this time, Chip didn't miss a beat. He gave Jay a smug, triumphant look. Jay raised an eyebrow in turn, admittedly impressed.

“That someday, our hands will intertwine once again!”

“Alright, nice,” Jay complimented, grinning widely.

Chip caught a mischievous glint in her eye, and his face consequently fell.

“One more spin, pretty boy!”

Before he could protest, Jay suddenly spun Chip away with a greater force than before, and the world around him became a blur, the air swirling with the sound of Jay’s devilish voice.

“Gillion,” he heard her yell, “catch!”

And Chip is spun into the arms of Gillion, who beamed at Chip’s very red face.

“Come, Chip.” Gill took both of Chip’s hands. Chip, still trying to recover from the jarring switch of partners, only blinked down at their now clasped fingers. “It is our turn.”

“Oh my god.” Chip laughed nervously.

Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

“Oh damsel, oh damsel, my heart belongs to thee,” Jay belted as Chip and Gillion figured out their dance. “If you’re troubled, oh so troubled, you must only call on me.”

The other two started to push and pull in tandem, reminiscent of a cha-cha with a bit more energy and spins thrown in every once in a while. They surprisingly guided each other with more harmony and grace than Jay expected.

“And though it rages, it rages, the condescending sea.” Gillion leapt and circled with Chip, almost lifting the latter off the ground. “Just for thou I know that my journey shall succeed!”

“Gill, calm down!” Chip chuckled, partly in amusement and partly in fear, as he started to lose his footing.

Jay looked on, not ignorant to the warm fuzzy feeling in her chest, the beat pulsing along with the adrenaline in her veins.

“And my love, I swear in the waves and whirlpools, soon we will meet and once again become whole.”

Soon she joined them, whooping as she jogged, and they welcomed her with wide smiles, one pair of hands separating to reach out. Jay took the offer to form an interconnected circle, spinning and bobbing as they shared the melody. They sang, as loud as they could, filling the air with a joyful energy.

“Oh lover, oh lover, don’t you dare cry,” Chip started.

The others joined in. “But laugh and laugh under the pristine blue sky.”

And laugh they did, the pure euphoria of indulging in fond memories emitting from them. They stumbled and laughed through mistakes, put their all into the performance, harmonising wonderfully.

Jay caught Pretzel doing somersaults in her globe and Apple circling the crew, chirping the tune with them. She’s reminded of a joking conversation about starting a band. Perhaps they had a chance after all, she thought amusedly. Gillion and the Tidestriders. Chip and the Bastards. Jay and the Dumbass Bluebirds. Whatever you wanted to call it.

Now, though, they were simply three friends, holding hands and dancing, rattling the wood of the ship without a care, singing a sea shanty that they all happened to know.

The stars slowly flooded the darkening sky and twinkled at them like they were dancing along.

To one, the fresh air, the touch of familiar calloused hands that had fought alongside her, and the spray of the ocean was a welcoming contrast to past memories of stuffy spaces and dispassionate work. To another, though the memory was a bit painful, it still brought him the same comforting feeling from years ago, sharing laughter and celebration in a tight kinship that was expected in that of crewmates, deepening the bond with experiences that were not just in battle, but in recreation. And to another still, it was a reminder of a time when he was desperate to learn the oversea culture, and that he still remained ever so curious now as he learned its differences and similarities to his world, forming relationships with its inhabitants, people who were perhaps not as cruel as the elders had suggested.

Those who share such joyous experiences with others must not be that selfish, after all.

“And never, oh never, would I ever lie. I wish nothing more than for us to re-u-nite!”

Jay grinned up at the sky as they hummed the outro melody, a gust of wind sweeping down on them and carrying their voices away, out onto the shimmering waters.

La, la la la, la la la, la la la…

A tug from Jay led the trio up in one final leap, whooping and cheering with the others as they followed. And once their feet landed simultaneously with a bang, the song ended.

As the rush receded from her mind, the pumping blood in her ears quieting down, Jay took in the sound of the waves crashing up against the ship and her heaving breaths. She looked up at the now star-filled sky, wondering when it got so dark. She allowed her hand to slip from her friends’ grasps, moving to lean on bended knee. Jay heard the other two breathing quite heavily as well, and even a plop as Chip seemed to collapse out of the corner of her eye. She followed suit, sprawling onto the wood and closing her eyes, catching her breath. Jay wasn’t extremely tired, but she needed to recuperate.

“Oh god, you kids just had to make a racket up here, didn’t ya?”

Jay breathed out a chuckle upon hearing the raspy voice. “Hi Earl.”

“We were partying, Old man Earl!” Gillion said preppily, unsurprisingly not as out of breath as the others.

“Earl, you got…” A huff from Chip. “You got orange juice? Perhaps? Please?”

“Hmph, you’re fuckin lucky I do.”

Tired cheers chimed from the pirates.

“But you have to go down to get it with dinner. Chop chop.”

“Ohh, come onnnnn,” Chip whined, joining in with the groans of Jay.

“I’ve seen you work, you’re not that tired,” Earl scoffed. “Maybe you shouldn’t have wasted all your energy on destroying the ship! And your vocal chords.”

“Hey, I don’t think we sounded that bad,” Jay said.

“Whatever, just come down and have dinner, I’m definitely not hefting everything up here.” Earl barked out a laugh and proceeded to go back down, ignoring the cries of Jay and Chip.

Soon Gillion’s face popped into Jay’s view. “Are you alright, Jay?” He glanced over. “Chip?”

“I’m coming around,” Jay assured. She stretched her arms up, making grabby hands. “Pull me up?”

Gillion complied, grabbing her arms and lifting her, though at a faster-than-preferred pace. Jay let out a yelp as she got back on her feet before stretching with a groan.

“Thanks, Gill.”

“Hey Giiiilll? Big man? Can I go next?”

Jay looked to Chip, who also had outstretched arms. Gillion walked to him and helped him up as well.

“Thanks, buddy.” Chip patted Gill on the back.

“No problem. Honestly, I did not think you would tire out so easily.”

“Well we need to gain back our energy, then,” Jay said, starting to follow Old man Earl.

“Hey, uh, Jay, um.” Chip caught her attention, and she turned back to see him with a raised hand. He moved it to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was… that was fun.”

“I agree,” Gillion said with a nod. ��I was reminded of some… rather fond memories, actually. And it was a good exercise. We should do it more.”

“Yeah, yeah actually, same. I agree.” Chip looked up at Jay, his face rather tentative. “So, thanks for that, I guess.”

Jay smiled. “You’re welcome, dweeb,” she jabbed. “You’re being more affectionate than usual, but I appreciate it.”

“Hey, don’t call me a dweeb!” Chip’s expression morphed into one of offense. “I just thanked you, that’s so insensitive of you. That’s actually insensitive.”

“I let you fulfill your showman dreams, you’re the one being insensitive right now.”

“Showman- hey, I actually like the sound of that.”

“Yeah you would, you drama queen.”

“You’re calling me dramatic? Have you seen Gill?”

The sound of bickering paired with Gillion’s oblivious chimes trailed below the deck, leaving a fond memory to the glittering dark waters and the twinkling stars still dancing along.

[wastelandcth]

Startstruck - cth

part five: all night long  part one || part two || part three || part four

summary: calum visits his superstar on the set of her new project and learns a thing or two about jealousy.

author’s notes: back with starstruck! i love this series and everytime i get to write about these dorks i get so happy. i hope you guys enjoy!

masterlist || request

Calum knew that dating a movie star wasn't going to be sunshine and butterflies every day. He knew there would be times where they barely had time for a five-minute conversation or to even send a good morning text. He understood that there would be times they wouldn't see each other for months on end while he was on tour or while she was away filming. But they were both adults who loved one another and they were willing to work through all of that to be together.  

Calum didn't realize how much her on-screen love interest would bother him. 

He was sure that she'd mentioned it to him before in passing, how her latest project was a romance movie and she'd been excited to venture out of the action movies for once. He hadn't been too worried about it, she was an amazing actor and even if that meant she would be gone for another couple of months, Calum had plans to visit her on set and spend a couple of days with her before flying back to finish recording the latest album the band had been working on. 

He’d spent the first part of his day on set writing in his journal while she was getting ready in the makeup trailer. Her dressing room had been a comfort, a place Calum could hide away in while she filmed scenes that Calum wasn’t allowed to be on set for. He’d spent those hours writing or talking with his mom, sometimes he’d even doze off for a short nap before the door would open and he was met with the sight of his girlfriend in another beautiful dress and her trusty water bottle in hand. During one of her breaks, where she’d walked in on Calum humming a soft tune she hadn’t heard before, her camera going off brought Calum’s eyes up to her where his smirk said more than words ever could. 

“You’re looking rather dashing, darling,” Calum said in the best posh accent he could muster up, a wink sent her way, “What do I owe the pleasure of this visit to?

“Oh please,” she laughed, smacking his chest playfully as she sat down next to him on the small couch, “I had a break before the big dancing scene and I came to see if you wanted to watch.”

“Oh I always want to watch you, should know that by now.” 

“Ugh, you’re a flirt, you know that?”

Calum loved whenever he got to visit his superstar on set. He'd always loved watching her movies and being able to see how the magic on screen was made was like a dream come true for him. He loved standing in the shadows and watching her shine bright through stunts and action scenes. But with a romance movie, Calum couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy run through him as he saw her dressed to the nines in old period clothing dancing with a man he had no interest in seeing dance with his girlfriend. 

"Calum, I want you to meet my costar," she'd said happily, her cheeks flushed from the latest dancing scene they'd finished filming. 

"Nice to finally meet the man who's got her head over heels! She hasn't stopped talking about you ever since filming has started," the man chuckled as he reached a hand out for Calum to shake. 

"All good things, I hope," Calum mumbled as he took his hand and gave it a shake, "It's nice to meet you too." 

Calum saw the look that his superstar gave him, the tiny glance that meant she'd caught on to his sudden change of attitude. Usually, Calum was cool-headed and nothing really bothered him but seeing the woman he loved dressed in a beautiful dress dancing away the fake night with someone who wasn't him struck a nerve. He knew that she didn't have any feelings for him, knew that they were just coworkers at best and the dancing and flirting were just on-screen. And yet, Calum figured out that the pit in his stomach that had been growing all day was jealousy. 

"I'm done filming for the day, Cal, want to go with me to my dressing room?" she asked, bringing Calum out of his thoughts and back into whatever conversation they'd all been in, "Then we can head back to the hotel." 

"Yeah, that's fine. Nice to meet you," he told her costar before following behind his superstar who was walking a few steps ahead of him. 

Walking into the dressing room, which was more like a small walk-in closet where Calum had been hiding in for most of the day while he did some work, Calum had expected her to be upset or disappointed in him. He hadn't been the most polite and he knew that he'd messed up being so short and distant with them today. What Calum hadn't expected was her lips on his the second that her door had closed and they were alone. His hands were on the waist of the dress she was wearing, a soft groan leaving him when the scratchy fabric rubbed against his palms. 

"You know, for someone who claims to be a great dancer, you've never taken me out dancing," she whispered as she pulled away from his lips for a second, "Might need to change that, can't have other men take me ballroom dancing before my own lover." 

Calum chuckled as he pulled her closer to his body, the pit in his stomach disappearing as his lips met hers again. No matter how many times Calum had gotten lost in his head and lost in the what-ifs of the world, his superstar was always there to bring him out of the fog and show him that she loved him just as much as he did her. She could notice from a  small change of body language that Calum had gotten too far in his head and knew the way out. 

"Don't know the first thing about ballroom dancing," he admitted, his cheeks flushing as he rested one hand on her waist while the other found a spot between her shoulder blades, "But this pretty dress and your love could teach me anything, don't you think?"

There could have been a full-blown orchestra playing for them to dance and all Calum would be focused on was how her laugh was the perfect song. Maybe Calum had been childish for feeling jealous for even just a second. For thinking that there was a connection between her and the man who'd she had danced with today. But as she and Calum danced around the small dressing room, Calum counting a constant one two three in his head, nothing else mattered. The tune from earlier in the day, one he’d been trying to fit into a new song, was hummed into her ear as they swayed together in the small and frankly cramped dressing room. But as long as he had her by his side, Calum would dance all night long. 

taglist: @hoodhoran​ @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop  @notinthesameguey @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @myloverboyash

[taeminyourmind]

The Demon and His Temptress x Taemin (M)

Genre: Smut, Incubus!Taemin

Summary: In the darkness of Club 84, the eyes of an incubus named Taemin watches your every move. Unaware of the game you were playing, you allowed him into your mind and soul. Tonight is the night you will surrender to him.

Pairing: Taemin x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k+

Something is intriguing about Club 84; was it the dancers dressed in beaded dresses? The live band whose music takes control of your body until you’re lost in the rhythm? The bartenders who spoke sweet words as they shoot sultry glances your way? The dimmed lights and red silk walls that are spotted with colors from the overhead disco ball? Or is it the fusion of everything that sends you in a spiral?

After a long week of a mundane office life that is the cause of your nonexistent social life, you crave excitement and a way to forget the world and who you are. It just so happened you stumbled across Club 84 while looking for a place that served the type of drinks you like, sweet with a powerful punch. What was supposed to be one visit turned into a weekly visit as you give yourself permission to strip the weight of the world and enter this new realm.

The melodies coming from the house band wrap themselves around you as your body fluidly moves along with the rhythm - your hips grinding against the beautiful saxophone, your body rolls within the emotional whining of the guitar, your chest pops in sync with the drums, and your feet takes you wherever they desire while the disco ball’s lights shine brightly in the darkness.

The beads of sweat against your skin look like diamonds under the light, surrounding your face with a mask of jewels. Your flowing red spaghetti strap dress sticks to your body while pieces of your hair cling to your face and neck.

Your sultriness doesn’t go unnoticed. A pair of eyes watch your body move seductively with the music. They can’t hide the growing smirk on their face as they take a sip from their glass of gin and tonic. Something is enticing about you that made their heart race. Each move you make makes them cling onto their glass tighter.

You could sense someone watching your every move, and that sense grew as you traveled closer to the source. Glancing over your shoulder, you see a young man alone at the bar, his hair gelled back, sporting a fitted blue jumpsuit with multiple black belts around his waist and a sole black glove on one arm. His eyes burn through you with hot desire as he watches you from over the rim of his glass. Flashing a flirtatious smile, you give him the one thing he wants, your attention. The longer he keeps his eyes locked with yours, the swifter your hips move.

Your teasing eyes and scandalous moves aren’t enough to pull him away from the bar, it’s not until you motion him to come closer with a finger that he leaves his seat. Like a shark roaming the waters, he moves swiftly through the crowd with intense eyes. Your breath seizes for a moment when he stands in front of you, towering over you that you have to look up to meet his eyes. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his body, smell the scent of his cologne and liquor on his lips, and notice the golden specks of his eyes that seem to glow despite the darkness.

He leans down until the tip of his mouth lightly brushes against your ear sending chills down your spine. “Shall we dance?” He asks in a low husky voice.

The young man stands straight, his eyes never leaving yours as you snake your arms around his neck. You pull your bodies closer together until your breasts are against his chest. His hands slowly rise until they slightly grip your hips.

The two of you use your bodies to talk as the music guides you. His fingers slowly travel down until they graze your under-thigh and swiftly lifts your leg until it rests on his shoulder. You watch as his luscious lips place a kiss on your calf, his eyes staring into yours. Slowly, he places your leg back down and turns you until your back rests against his chest. Rolling along to the rhythm, you reach upwards until your hands gently hold onto his neck while his fingers caress your stomach.

“You’re such a tease,” he whispers while your hips grind with one another.

“You seem to like it,” you smirk while turning around to face the young man.

You gently run your finger down the front of his pants where a bulge is appearing. “What’s your name?”

“What’s in a name?” He stops your teasing hand and brings it up to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. “I’m afraid I have to cut our dance short tonight.”

Your face drops at his announcement. “Do you come here often? Will I see you again?”

A chuckle rumbles from the depths of his core as his eyes stare into yours with desire. In a game you didn’t know you were playing, he’s already won.

“If you dream hard enough,” he begins while slowly removing his hands from your body, “we’ll meet again soon, my love.”

You watch the young man back away until he camouflages with the crowd. The music turns into a slow-paced selection, leaving your heartbreaking more as you stand still in the sea of dancing bodies. This mysterious man has a hold on you, and you never got a chance to know his name.

Entering your apartment, you feel your high come crashing down as you drag your feet to your bedroom, removing your heels, dress, and jewelry before throwing them to the side. To a normal person, you’re alone, but to those that can see beyond the human eye, you are anything but alone. Sitting in a chair in the corner, the young man from the club sits with his legs spread open while his hungry eyes watch you undress.

“Such a tease,” he comments to himself while you unhook your bra from behind and place an oversized t-shirt that barely hits the middle of your thighs over your head.

His eyes watch you hide under the covers, pulling them up so only your face is visible. The room turns dark with only the moonlight to break the darkness.

Patiently he waits until he hears a chance in your breathing that signals you’ve fallen into a deep slumber.

Your peaceful slumber is interrupted when you feel a dip in your bed that causes you to stir. A grunt of frustration grows from your core as you shift to lay only our other side. A warmth engulfs your face causing you to squint your eyes open. Laying on his side, the young man looks at you with winks with a smirk. Jumping from the bed, you press your back against the wall.

“What’s wrong, my love,” he questions while furrowing his brows. “Surprised to see me?”

You nod and place a hand over your chest. “How did you get in? Did you follow me home?” You ask breathlessly.

He focuses on your eyes, using his mind to alter your memories until you remember coming home with him instead of alone. Your eyes fall into a trance as he makes up the night from the first time you locked eyes to this moment.

There is truth to his lies, when you opened your soul to him, you gave him permission to be with you.

“You invited me over,” he speaks slowly after he finishes altering your mind. “Don’t you remember?”

You think for a moment and give an apologetic smile. “It must’ve been a wild night, I’m sorry.”

Feeling a chill run up your leg, you try to lower the bottom half of your shirt. The young ma doesn’t mind as his tongue peeks out while he licks his lips, his eyes zeroing in on your thighs.

“Since we’re alone,” he begins, shifting himself until he sits on his knees with his head slightly tilted to the side, “I was wondering if you could show me more of your,” he reaches out to lightly tug on your shirt until you stand in front of him, “sexy moves.”

Your heart pounds as he presses his chest into yours, your eyes gazing into his.

“Tell me your name first, then we’ll dance,” you whisper with a growing smirk.

His lustful eyes look over your face. “Taemin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Taemin,” you smile and slightly tug on his clothes. “I’m ___.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ___.”

A smile slowly spreads on your face as Taemin’s thumbpad gently glides on your lower lip. His warm fingers curl under your chin, tilting it slightly up before leaning in and tenderly placing his lips against yours. His free arm holds you closer to his body while he grinds against yours. Your face heats up as the intensity of the kiss dives deeper. His tongue slyly slips between your lips, making you sigh deeply. Your hands grip his broad shoulders to steady yourself from rocking too much.

Taemin slowly pulls away, his lips slightly puffy. “May I touch you?” He asks while his fingers softly trace circles on your inner thighs causing you to shiver.

Eagerly nodding, Taemin turns you around to face the mirror hanging from your wall. Through your reflection, you and Taemin lock eyes as his hands travel up your thighs, gently kneading them, before disappearing under your shirt. You try to slow your quickened breaths as you feel his fingers slide over your stomach until they cup your breasts. He smirks at the feel of your pounding heartbeat as he takes each nipple between his index finger and thumb, teasingly pinching and pulling on it while his lips latch onto the crook of your neck.

“You,” you whisper while grinding your hips into his hand to create more friction. “I want you.”

A light moan escapes as you watch his hands move under your shirt. Before you have a chance to catch your breath, Taemin lets one of his hands fall to your pelvic area and make circles near your clit from outside of your underwear.

“Tell me what you want,” he lowly growls in your ear, his voice demanding.

He smiles devilishly at your admittance of wanting him. Once again, he’s won at a game you didn’t know you were playing. Taking a deep breath, he prepares himself to indulge himself in the growing desire he has for you.

“You won’t regret it,” he says.

He removes his arm from under your shirt and wraps his hand around your neck, lightly squeezing it while his other moves inside your underwear and begins making light circles on your clit. You sigh in pleasure and rest your head back against his shoulder. Soon, your sighs transform into loud whines as his fingers move faster, rubbing your clit harder and spreading your wetness. The sensitivity causes your body to squirm.

With each squirm, Taemin squeezes your neck tighter. He watches your face contort with pleasure when he enters his middle and ring finger through your entrance until only his silver ring is visible. Repeatedly, he does the ‘come here’ motion inside of you. You reach down to keep his hand in place, letting him know not to stop. Swiftly, he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you. Your eyebrows rise at the sensation resulting in breathless moans.

As abruptly as his fingers enter you, he removes them from your warm walls and brings them to the front of your face. He slowly separates his fingers and watches your wetness spread into strings on his fingers.

“Look at how wet you are for me,” he whispers before pushing them pass his lips, his tongue licking them clean while his eyes stare into yours in the mirror.

Careful to not hurt you, he pulls you back on the bed and removes his hand from your throat allowing you to gasp for air between coughs. Towering over you, Taemin slowly removes his belts one by one before unbuttoning his jumpsuit. Your eyes take in his broad shoulders and lean abdominal area before focusing on his growing erection. Your burning eyes of desire cause his member to twitch.

Moving until his legs straddle your body, you instinctively remove your shirt and hold your breasts together. He smirks at you before placing himself between your breasts and begins to slowly rock back and forth. A quiet whine comes from his mouth when his tip is met with a flick of your tongue each time he rocks forward.

“You’re such a tease,” he grunts while squeezing your cheeks together as precum leaks onto your breasts. The sight causes both of you to moan.

Pulling back, he positions himself between your legs where he removes and tosses your underwear to the side.

“This might be painful,” Taemin warns while opening your legs wider with his knees.

“Hurt me,” you rush to say before you can understand the magnitude of your words.

Gripping your wrists to pin them over your head, Taemin aligns his tip with your entrance. Your chest rises and falls with shaky breaths as you brace yourself.

With his eyes gazing into yours, he aggressively pushes himself into you until your hips meet. Your back arches while your mouth lays silently agape. Pulling his hips back, he repeatedly thrusts back into you in the same aggressive manner until you can make a sound that’s full of pleasure yet laced with pain. For each second of pain comes two seconds of pleasure. Each time he presses into you, you feel the depth of his grunts vibrate against your core.

Your walls remain empty for a moment as he pulls his member out, flipping you over so your chest firmly presses against the bed. He guides your hips up slightly and grips them tightly to hold them in place before powerfully entering you again. Your fingers grip the sheets under you as you squeeze your eyes shut and bite down on your lip. A ball of moans grows within your chest as you try your best to suppress them.

Seeing you hold back, Taemin begins snapping into you quicker. “Let me hear you,” he grunts as he leans forward until his chest lays against your back.

At an agonizingly slow pace, he grinds into you in search of your sweet spot. When his tip brushes against your spot, you let out a loud lengthy gasp while your toes curl. A bellowing moan soon follows as your walls tighten around his member.

“Did I find it, my love?” He asks through clenched teeth as he manages to slide his hand between you and the bed and mercilessly rub your throbbing clit.

The overwhelming pleasure causes you to sink your nails deeper into the blanket as you let out a loud cry. A roguish smile appears as he feels your body begin to convulse underneath him. Your walls tightly squeeze the sides of his member as your cream coats him. Sitting back, he slows his pace to see the white strings lacing his cock. A grunt sounds behind his lips as he watches his member drenched in your sweet orgasm disappear and reappear in your folds.

Pulling himself out, Taemin lies on his back beside you. Reaching over, he hoists you on top of him and holds his member in place while guiding you down until it’s secure between your walls. A quiet moan escapes your lips as you watch Taemin’s lips part as your warmth. Pieces of his bangs now stick to his sweaty face as his cheeks are flushed. Sensing you’re at your end, Taemin anchors his hands on your hips and moves your back and forth. Both of your moans mix together at the sensation, your breasts bouncing with each movement.

The impatient desire within him takes hold of him when he watches your head fall back and your fingers dig into his pecs. Though exhaustion runs through your veins, you can’t stop chasing your high. Eager to help you, Taemin’s thumb ruthlessly rubs against your clit causing your body to jerk at the sensation of another orgasm. Your breaths become shaky as you fall against his chest, begging him to not stop.

Grabbing both of your ass cheeks, Taemin begins to harshly thrust upward causing you to dig your nails in his shoulders. The sound of his hips slapping against yours is followed by a series of your whimpers in his ear.

“That’s right, my love,” he encourages while slapping your ass, causing you to wince. “Let it out.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as your body convulses with another orgasmic wave. You repeatedly whine Taemin’s name as the strong wave paralyzes your body. Where your orgasm ends, Taemin’s begins as he thrusts upward once more and empties his seed into you, grunting with each spurt.

Gently placing you on the bed beside him, he places light kisses on your body until his mouth brushes against your pussy, making you squirm. With his devilish eyes still watching you, he slides the tip of his tongue from your entrance to your sensitive clit and flicks it, sending shivers down your spine.

You tirelessly whimper before he latches his plump lips around your clit and begins to suck on it. With your fingers gripping his hair, you pull on it as your body tenses with another orgasm.

Humming against you, Taemin tries to comfort you as he watches your back arch and hand tightly grip the sheets beneath you. A tired smile paints your face as your orgasm subsides, leaving you too weak to move. Slowly, Taemin crawls towards your face and smiles down at you.

“I want more,” he whispers, the golden specks of his eyes glowing while his fingers caress your body.

“I don’t think I’m strong enough,” you manage to say between breaths. Thought weakness plagues your body, something twisted inside of your desires for more.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Taemin says with a devilish lopsided smile as his fingers trace your facial features. “You’ll be strong enough.”

Before you can say anything, both of Taemin’s hands cover your mouth and nose. Your hands grip his lower arms as your chest burns, but your strength is no match for him. In your struggle, you freeze with widened eyes as Taemin’s eyes turn golden and black wings sprout from his back. There isn’t much else you can do as you’re slowly encased with darkness.

The brightness of the morning’s sun stirs you awake. Shooting up, your hands grasp your chest and throat while you gasp for air. Looking around, you can find no sign of Taemin or evidence of the night’s events. Reaching over, you grab your phone and unlock it and gasp at the screen.

“This can’t be right,” you mumble to yourself while shaking your head. “Was I asleep for two days?”

Your confusion provides entertainment for Taemin, who sits in the chair in the corner with his hands folded in his lap. A smirk appears on his face as he remembers the night you and he shared together, or should he say the night your subconscious and he shared.

While you were sound asleep, he crept into your mind like a thief in the night and filled your innermost desire. The pleasure of the mind can be just as pleasurable as if it were physical. His eyes never leave you as he hears your confused thoughts and watches your face become bashful at the thought of him and his touch.

“Don’t worry, my love,” he whispers while watching you disappear into the bathroom. “We’ll be together again.”

[wronqness99]

Noona, I Love You

> About my writing

Genre: Comedy, fluff

Word Count: 1.5K+

Characters: Lee Taemin (SHINee) X Female Reader

*The image doesn’t belong to me, credits to the owner.*

Y/N and KiBum had been friends their whole lives, since their parents had gone to school together from an early age and their mothers had even been pregnant at the same time. Consequently they, too, had gone to school together and accompanied each other through every important step of life.

Their childhood and teenage years had been spent together, so it didn't come as a surprise when they converged their career paths so they could continue to be there for each other.

After some discussions and a bit of convincing, Key successfully got his best friend to major in career management and as soon as she graduated, Y/N already had a spot waiting for her at SM Entertainment as Key's manager, which enabled the woman not only to continue walking her path alongside her best friend but also to connect with new people who made her feel welcome and accepted.

Kibum felt delighted that he would be able to spend more time with his childhood friend. Now, instead of his schedule dictating when they could see each other, it would be her controlling his schedule which not only enabled her to spend more time with her friend but also to take better care of him, since she always thought he overworked himself too much.

Her friend, however, was not the only person to feel happy and excited about SM's new addition. Taemin had found himself extremely pleased by the woman's presence. He was glad there was someone able to understand his hyung the way she did and the way he couldn't seem to.

Taemin began to grow fond of the woman since Kibum had first presented her to the band and so he did everything in his power to get her to notice him, sometimes even going to extremes not knowing he already had her attention as well.

Y/N loved being around the boys and would step up and help with the other member's agendas whenever they needed to whether it was because of an overflowing amount of work or because their managers were on holiday or got sick.

This last one was actually the occasion that had brought her closer to the younger one. Being asked to step up and manage both Kibum and Taemin since his manager had gone skiing during his vacation and ended up falling pretty badly, resulting in a broken leg. Y/N had immediately said yes, never expecting the crazy amount of events Taemin had been invited to that she would have to try and fit into his agenda.

Taemin saw as the girl sighed, finally getting done with the agenda organization for the maknae, having called him over to decide which one of the three overlapping events he would like to attend. Seeing how tired she looked he walked overt ot her silently, placing his hands on her shoulders and beginning a massage. The girl jumped, startled but once she realized who it was, she allowed herself to close her eyes, sighing in relaxation as she melted into his warm touch.

"Is it a lot of work, noona?" He questioned, fingers moving vigorously against her shoulders. "I'm sorry for putting this burden on you. I don't like seeing you like this."

"It's fine Taem, it's not your fault, the agency asked me I wasn't forced into it. Also, I feel much more relieved that this task was given to me, someone who you already know and are comfortable with. At least I know things will be done well." She stated as she grabbed her pen to finish his schedule. "So, do you want to make a guest appearance on The Return Of Superman, I Can See Your Voice or Knowing Brothers along with Ten, Taeyong and Jongin?"

"Uhm... Last one." He replied, waiting for her to put her pen down. He turned her chair around, making her face him as he crouched down in front of his temporary manager. His eyes ran over her features, his heart beating faster as he memorized each one of them.

"Don't look at me like that," She barely whispered holding his gaze as he stared right into her eyes. He crooked his head to the side, a smirk taking over his lips.

"Why not?"

"Because it makes me want to do things I shouldn't." She replied honestly, leaving him baffled.

"You know we're both legal adults, right? We can do whatever we please."

"No. We work together, you're my best friend's band member. It would be unprofessional if something happened between us." She stated.

"So you've liked me back all this time?" He chuckled, getting up and leaning over her chair, their faces merely inches apart. She placed her hand on his cheek, caressing it lovingly in a silent answer.

"I thought you were ignoring me because you didn't feel anything for me..."

"I was just trying to be rational. It would be very unprofessional of me, I might lose my job and I am scared of how the others would react..." She confided.

"It can be just us. I mean, at least for now." He stated, stealing a small smile from her. Her eyes darted towards his plump lips, making her bite her own.

"Can I kiss you?" She questioned in a small voice. He smiled brightly, his being filled with happiness.

"You don't even need to ask." The dancer replied before attaching their lips in a passionate kiss.

This was how their relationship began. Y/N found herself loving the way Taemin would sometimes get shy and the way he faked his innocence, always being cut off by Key, who would always tell him the way it was and put the boy in his place which annoyed the youngest but amazed the woman to no end.

While helping SHINee get ready to attend an award show to which they had been nominated and were invited to perform at, Y/N walked into the closet area, finding a shirtless and confused Taemin looking for his outfit. The girl chuckled and touched his shoulder making the boy jump in surprise as she got his attention. Reaching for the white flannel and the midnight blue blazer, she extended the clothing items in his direction, noticing just how red the boy's ears had gotten.

"Is this what you were looking for?" She questioned amused.

"Hum, y-yeah, thank you!"

"Is Lee Taemin acting shy in front of me all of a sudden?" She sniggered, holding onto his shoulders as he pulled her body towards his by the waist.

"Why would I feel shy around my girlfriend?" He whispered seductively on her ear, making her skin erupt into goosebumps. His lips attached to her neck making her eyes shot back open.

"Taemin, no! What if someone comes in?" She reasoned, trying to get him off of her.

"Doesn't that sound exciting?" He stated as he nibbled on her ear. Not waiting to hear another word, before she tried to reason again, he glued his lips to hers hungrily, feeling her hands push him away within a couple of seconds.

"No. No, no, no, no. This isn't the time or place, control yourself Jung Y/N". The girl repeated to herself as she patted her cheeks before walking out of the room and leaving the man alone to get ready. He chuckled in amusement as he crossed his arms, watching her walk away.

"And she said I was the shy one!" He laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a couple of months of successfully hiding their relationship, they felt like they were getting pros at it and even defied each other sometimes. Well, mostly Taemin.

The youngest man walked into the meeting room where Kibum and Y/N were planning and discussing the male's schedule for his upcoming solo comeback over a warm cup of tea.

"Hello, beautiful." He chirped happily as walked over to the seat beside Y/N's.

"Taemin-ah, how have you been?" Questioned Kibum, while playing with his phone.

"Oh, hello to you, too, hyung." He provoked, making the older one give him a dirty look.

"Well, let's take a small break. I'll go drink my tea elsewhere and allow the two of you to kiss all you want and still pretend the whole agency doesn't know you two are a thing for months now while still letting you think you're fooling us all. Be right back." Kibum spoke naturally, getting up from his seat with his tea in hands and leaving the meeting room right after, leaving his two friends flabbergasted.

"What just happened?" Y/N questioned burying her head in her hands while allowing a laugh to escape her lips.

"Well, it seems like everyone knows so we can finally have public displays of affection wherever and whenever we please! How cool, I don't have to hold back anymore!" He chimed cheerfully and got up from the chair, making his way out of the room.

"Noona, I love you!" Taemin screamed for everyone to hear, making her run out of the room and cover his mouth, pulling him back inside.

Y/N smiled shyly and hit his shoulder in embarrassment. The man pulled his girlfriend in and she allowed herself to melt into his hug, feeling the reverberation of his melodic laugh and his inebriating scent fill her lungs.

And at that moment Y/N was sure that she would never trade his arms for anything, anywhere or anyone elses.

MASTERLIST

[ineloqueent]

take my breath away

Brian May x Reader

gif is not mine!! if it’s yours, drop me a line <3

synopsis: the road goes ever on, and you will follow wherever it leads, under cloud and over hill, along the mountains in the snow. just as Brian will follow you.

warnings: allusion to depression

word count: 1.3k

a/n: inspired by the mood that this song evokes

see the moodboard here!

⭒

1978

They say you begin to appreciate things more when you have them less, but on the contrary, you had been hiking so often that you knew these mountains better than the floor plan of your own home. Yet, you still found yourself in awe when you came upon the distant view of the world below.

But where before it had been a quiet sort of awe, this one was consuming. And not because you had been away from the mountains and longed to see them again, but because you were with someone who found a way to be amazed at all of the views the world had to offer, even when it seemed that there was nothing at which to be amazed.

To others, he may have seemed naïve.

But you knew of his frequent cynicism, and how often it clouded his happiness to the extent that he could not see the point of getting out of bed, and so you allowed him a little of this naïveté.

Because when Brian was spellbound, there was nothing in the world so beautiful as him.

The hike had been planned many, many weeks— months, in fact— ahead of time, because with your boyfriend being in a now world-renown band, the two of you had been forced to work around a seemingly endless array of schedules, both yours and his.

But now those schedules were out of the way, and the two of you were carving a path up the Laurentian Mountains, intending to reach a summit by sunset, because the sky was clear and the view was supposed to be breathtaking, and you’d always wanted to see a sunset from atop a mountain. However, in going to see the sunset, there was a distinct downside: it would be dark on your way back down. Thus, you and Brian had packed camping materials, and were to sleep in the mountains, returning to level ground in the morning.

It was late autumn and the trees were painted with leaves in thousands, millions of different colours— emeralds, rouges, firelight orange and sunflower yellow— the cold air washing everything surreal in a distinctive blue tinge, a sure sign that winter was on its way.

The hike was a steep one, and bundled up as you were, it was difficult to move quickly, and often to see. More than once, even as an experienced hiker, you stumbled over a rock or mound in the road, and Brian reached out his arm to steady you.

It was push and pull with him and you, both literally, on this hike, and figuratively, in your newly-intertwined lives. When he was unsure, you bolstered him with certainty, confidence, your belief in his abilities ever unfaltering. When you grew lonely in your solitude, Brian somehow always knew, and was there to pull you from the dark, into his arms and the light he carried inherently.

And so it was up the mountain. You pushed, he pulled, and when you grew tired, he was light of heart, offering a joke or a sip from the thermos retrieved from his backpack. You held his hand as the sun sank lower in the sky and the day grew colder, as he grew colder with it.

Once, along the way, you were halted for a momentary rest, and Brian stared up the mountain, to where it was your goal awaited. Then a gust of wind picked up the fallen leaves about you, and threw them into the air until they spiraled like snow. You laughed as several found their final resting place in Brian’s tousled curls, and his childlike delight at the sight broke in the form of a brilliant smile across his pinkened lips.

The leaves rustled, the forest amusing itself alongside you, and as Brian spun comically through the falling foliage, it occurred to you that you had never been so happy as you were now.

It took your breath away when he smiled at you.

The sky was a masterpiece of pink and crimson when you at last came upon the summit.

You wished you could preserve this moment forever in your mind, draped in its effortless, ephemeral beauty, with the glowing heavens and the shining sun, the moon rising opposite in greeting with its radiant counterpart.

The clouds were tufted and white, but they were dancers and the sun was a mirrorball of light, turning them the same blushing hues as the sky, as Brian’s face.

He glowed in the fading light, a celestial being as much as the sun or la lune, starlight sparkling in his eyes, though none could yet be seen above your heads.

His eyes crinkled at the corners before the smile touched his mouth, and your cold fingers and toes turned warm at the sight, at how he looked at you.

He reached for your hand and you let him take it, your heart growing light in your chest, fluttering and flighty with emotion, just as it had done the first time he had spoken with you, on one fateful night.

The two of you discarded your packs by an outcrop of stone, and, keeping a gentle hold on you, Brian led you toward the precipice of the summit, to where the sun was making its descent to shine upon the other side of the Earth.

You sank to the ground with him beside you, and huddled into his side until he released your hand to bring his arms around you and bring you close.

He sighed as the light grew ever dimmer, and you watched the glow reflected in his eyes.

You murmured, “What are you thinking about?”

You felt his chest contract beneath your hands with his deep intake of breath, and angled your head to look up at him. He smiled down at you, and impulsively kissed your nose.

Laughter bubbled up from your lips, and you nudged him to urge him speak.

“The world,” he answered.

You raised your eyebrows. “All of it? At once? Do you ever stop thinking?”

Brian shook his head. “No, I never stop thinking. But really, you know me better than to ask that.”

You conceded with a nod.

“I’m thinking about our little world,” he said.

“Yours and mine?”

“That would have been romantic of me, wouldn’t it? But no, not quite so small.”

You rolled your eyes. “How to make someone feel insignificant, in one easy step.”

Brian laughed, “No, no, small is good. And our universe… it’s so vast. I feel so small in this world. It’s good to feel small, though,” he continued. “It humbles one, in a way.”

“Not you,” you said. “You’ve got an ego.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Cheeky.”

You grinned. “Always.”

“Well, what I was going to say next was something rather romantic, but now I think I won’t.” He sniffed, feigning offense.

“Oh, come on,” you pushed his shoulder without any real force. “Say it.”

“No.”

“Brian…”

“Alright, but only because this whole sunset business is making me ridiculously sappy.” He sighed, and shifted so as to meet your gaze. “I’m humbled,” he said, “to know you.”

The air fled from your lungs, in something like a gasp, but smaller, slower. More awestruck, more in love.

You had no words, and so instead, you kissed him. Deeply, lingeringly, offering everything you had to him, however little it was, because you loved him, and that was what love did to people: it made them want to give up everything, for one person, for no reason at all, for no reason other than the stupidly irrational thought of wanting to be that person’s whole world.

His eyes were soft, and he held you warmly, and your world had rarely been so beautiful as when it was shared with Brian.

[yungidreamer]

Fragile

Summary: It’s fall in Paris and the jazz club Le Chat Noir is bored immortal vampire Yunho’s favorite hunting grounds. Among the crush of bodies, there to see the show and dance the night away, San takes a seat at his table. Will San get more than he bargained for when he accepts a drink and a dance with the handsome stranger at the hottest place in town?

Wordcount: 5.9k

Content warnings: very much NSFW, vampire bites and blood drinking, references to casual sex with multiple partners, slightly subby San, slightly dom Yunho, oral sex, hand job, the risk of death, and two hedonists seeking pleasure with each other. It is heavily implied that both San and Yunho are bi/pan in orientation.

La Chat Noir, Paris France, 1924

Music flowed through the air of the club, moving languorously as if the smoke in the air slowed its passage. A faint buzzing sound hid behind it thanks to the low light of the new fangled bulbs that were tucked into sconces on the walls that mimicked the old gas lights that had been in use a mere decade or so ago. Such a small amount of time, Yunho sighed. Some days he missed their constant hiss, that sound just felt...calming. Like a constant whisper, telling the secrets of the nightowls and scoundrels who stayed out in the city during those hours that belonged to people like him.

Still, the place was as good a hunting ground as he had ever found. People didn’t change. They were always chasing that moment of pleasure that made their short existence worthwhile. Always drinking, gorging and *ahem* loving their way through life as much as their status and circumstances would allow. So small, so finite, so… fragile. It was sad really. They seemed to struggle, at odds with the desire to live like they only had today while, nearly simultaneously, trying to live those mere 100 years some of them might have. If they were lucky. Though why they would want to live so long as their bodies deteriorated with each passing day was beyond him.

Eternity was bad enough with eternal youth. When you had to age. Yunho shuddered.

Pushing through the crush of youth, Yunho made his way towards the bar. The smell of bodies, sweat and skin, mixed with the tobacco of cigars and thin cigarettes all of the liberated women kept between their manicured fingers as they drank and laughed. Over that drifted the smell of whiskey, wine, and whatever spirits the bartenders were deciding to experiment with tonight.

Perfumes swam by on the air that surrounded their wearers. Musk, ambergris, vetiver, and hints of the sharp floral notes of women who still wore the classic rose or jasmine. With each one that passed Yunho couldn’t help but pause for half a second to see how well it matched the wearer. Was it a scent that accentuated the character of whoever it was on, or was it a mask; something false they put on as they tried to pretend, just for tonight they weren’t some nameless bookkeeper on the third floor of one of the new steel and glass monstrosities that reached vainly for the sky?

In the back of the last room he found a small round table, flicking over the little card that said Reserved as he took his seat. It was his table, it was always his table. From here he could watch the throngs kick and sway on the open dance floor, or the beautiful dancers as they performed their numbers to the music of the band. He absolutely loved their outfits, all silk and beading, showing so much of their delicate skin.

Maybe some things are improving with time, he reflected, sipping his Southside. Little of the taste came through to his taste buds, but the chill of the mint slid down his throat and the sharp tannin of the lime was tacky on his tongue. Plus, his trifles seemed to enjoy the freshness it brought to his lips and who was he to deny them that last… little… pleasure.

On the floor in the glare of the spotlight two sisters danced in unison in their feathers and silk. The rhinestones on their belts and cloche hats glinted as they moved to the music, flashing lushous stretches of their shapely legs. This was their third night performing at the club and word had gotten around. The club had filled just a little more with each passing night with everyone who wanted to catch the appropriately risque performance. Gentlemen brought their friends, and occasionally, the lady they hoped to sway with the low lights, the free music of the jazz, and the sensual movements of the dancers.

The more free spirited women came in small groups, and very occasionally, alone. Finally they were allowed to go out as they pleased, they could have jobs, smoke, and support themselves. The freedom was well deserved, if not always well or wisely used. Then again, who was he, or anyone else frankly, to tell them what to do with that freedom. Over the centuries he had certainly seen plenty of men squander that precious thing called freedom. Perhaps, if fate had changed by just a hair, he would have been one of the poor souls, living and dying in a flash, leaving barely a trace of his existence. But, fate had chosen a different path for him and instead he had seen centuries pass before him, time flowing like a rushing river. It was all much the same even if he could never step into the same stream twice.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A voice asked, rising just high enough over the hum of the room to reach his ear. Yunho looked up to find a young man with sharp features standing near the back of the chair on the other side of the table. A quirk turned the corner of Yunho’s lips as he gave him an assessing look. It was brave of him to come and ask to share the table; it reeked of a confidence that Yunho liked.

“Please,” Yunho gestured to the chair, sitting up just a shade straighter. The young man nodded, gracefully slipping into the black lacquer chair. He was dressed in a fashionable suit in crisp black and white, perhaps stylish but not rich. Yunho didn’t think he had seen him before; he seemed like the sort he would have remembered. His hair was dark and glossy, almost like the chair he had taken a seat in. It was cut in a clean, modern style that made him look like he belonged in a place like this. His face was lovely, high cheekbones and smooth creamy skin that seemed to shine from the inside out with that warm glow that only health and youth could bestow.

“Are they as good as they have been hyped up to be?” The young man asked, keeping his narrow, dark eyes on the ladies in the spotlight.

“They are good,” Yunho agreed, leaning in so he didn’t have to raise his voice to be heard. He sipped from his glass, held with a blase confidence using only two fingers, eyes staying on his table companion.

“They’re beautiful,” He commented, sparing a glance for Yunho as he too leaned in towards the table.

“They’re pretty enough, and lovely in their shape,” Yunho agreed, though his eyes seemed unwilling to look back at the subjects of whom he spoke.

“The music is quite good as well, isn’t it?” He asked, trying not to look like he had noticed the gaze on him.

“It’s… intoxicating,” Yunho agreed. “Can I ask your name?”

“San,” the young man answered. “Choi San.”

“Hello San,” Yunho extended his free hand over the table to him. “I’m Yunho.”

“Nice to meet you,” San took the extended hand, giving it a firm, confident shake. Yunho held onto the warm hand just a couple of seconds longer than he ought to, enjoying the dry warmth of the other man’s palm in his. San let him, only drawing his hand back when Yunho let go.

“Are you new around here?” Yunho asked, curious about the man across from him for a number of reasons.

“Just moved here a few months ago,” San nodded. “Got my first job as a law clerk. The money is good enough and if I do well enough the prospects for promotion are good.”

“How fortunate you are,” Yunho smiled, tipping his glass to him encouragingly.

“My parents were happy enough,” San gave a small chuckle. “After all they spent on my education, they feel like I owe them nothing less.”

“Such dullards aren’t they,” Yunho commiserated. “Stuck in the past along with all of their ideas and mores.”

“Well, they certainly wouldn’t think a place like this is where I ought to be spending my time or money,” San agreed, happy to have found a comrade in arms.

“What’s the point in youth if you waste it shut in offices and school rooms,” Yunho asked rhetorically, a hand under his chin.

“Exactly,” San gave a single nod. “I work hard. I can spend my free time doing something fun, whatever that may be.”

“Is this your idea of fun?” There was a teasing edge to Yunho’s voice, like the cool touch of a blade as it brushed flesh without cutting it.

“Not sure yet,” San sat forward, giving Yunho an assessing look as he moved his chin to rest on the heel of his hand. “It’s my first time here, but at least the company seems promising.”

“Would you like something; a drink?” Yunho questioned, emptying the last of his drink from his glass.

“I can--” San started to stand before Yunho stopped him, simply raising a hand and, a moment later, almost as if she had been conjured from nothingness, a waitress appeared beside them.

“Two more,” Yunho said, passing her the empty glass. Without a word she nodded and walked away to do as she had been bid. It didn’t take long for their drinks to appear and Yunho picked his up, offering a silent toast to San before taking a sip. San followed suit, bringing the drink to his lips.

“This is quite good,” San said, looking at the drink again, after having had a taste.

“Isn’t it?” Yunho agreed. “Refreshing.”

“Yes,” San nodded, taking another sip as he noticed the light dim as the spotlight was snuffed. As the dancers left the floor he observed, “They were decent but maybe they didn’t quite live up to the hype.”

“Life rarely does,” a jadedness filled Yunho’s tone.

“Do you really find life here so dreary?” San felt a sympathy for him, slightly sad that the other man seemed to feel the world was so dull.

“Often,” Yunho admitted. “But sometimes there is a glimmer of intrigue to things.”

“I hope I won’t find myself so easily bored by the attractions of life here,” San chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” Yunho promised. “I’m a bit of a special case. I have perhaps seen too much to find fascination so easily anymore.” The band struck up again and the lights raised enough to allow people to get up and make their way onto the dance floor. Couples made their way out onto the floor that had been the platform for the performance. The low light and the slow jazz made the room feel small and intimate even as the couples brushed against one another on the dance floor.

“Would you like to dance with me?” Yunho asked, leaning as close as he could to whisper the question.

“Can we?” San’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion.

“No one judges here,” Yunho assured him. “Look.” He gestured out to the floor and San’s gaze followed. Nestled in among the pairs of men and women were a few pairs of girls, arms clinging as they danced closely, and men swaying in each other's arms. Surprise flickered across San’s face. These things, they just weren’t usually done, and yet…

“Shall we?” Yunho stood up and extended a hand to San. For a beat, he just looked at it. Did he dare? Pressing his lips into a hard line, San stood up and took Yunho’s hand. With a victorious grin, Yunho led San out onto a dim corner of the dance floor.

San hadn’t noticed just how tall Yunho was when he was just sitting across from him. It was only when the other man pulled him more tightly against his body as they squeezed in among the other pairs, that he noticed how Yunho towered over him by a decent amount. San swallowed past his nerves and snaked his arms around the other man’s waist and chest. 

Yunho held him close, pressing the side of his jaw to the other man’s temple and breathing in the smell of him. Everything about San was warm and vibrant including his scent. He wore no cologne, not trying to disguise himself or be anything more than he was. Beneath the faint smell of soap was the scent of him, of his skin. Cedar and sage with notes of grapefruit and lime, and somewhere below that was something warm and masculine… like the old leather of an armchair in a study that had taken on a hint of the cigars that had been smoked there over the years.

Yunho’s mouth practically watered, knowing that San would taste so very good. He would be warm and nourishing, bringing Yunho that little step closer to feeling alive again. It wasn’t that he missed that fragile mortality that he had lost so long ago. Rather he loved that heat. The borrowed, clandestine taste of vitality. He could have both if he chose; immortality and that feel of his heart beating in his chest. Well, for a moment at least.

One song bled into a second and a third as an hour ticked by nearly unnoticed by the pair. The couples around them came and went, getting a little more drunk and a little more boisterous as the time passed.

“Would you like to go somewhere?” Yunho murmured into the shell of San’s ear before pulling back and hooking his finger under San’s chin to bring his eyes up to meet his own. San gave a brief nod and Yunho smiled, leaning down to brush a barely there kiss to the corner of San’s mouth.

“Your place?” Yunho proposed, offering an inviting smile. San nodded again, his gaze falling hungrily to Yunho’s lips. Leading the way through the crowd, Yunho took them both out onto the street, hailing the first passing cab.

Yunho pressed San back against the door to his apartment in the dimly lit hall of his floor. He let out a small moan as he fumbled in his pocket for the key he knew was there. Yunho’s lips on his were insistent even as they moved at a leisurely pace against his own. San had always had wants, desires, but never dared to act on them. Women were pretty, they were attractive, too, but there had always been that part of him that couldn’t help but watch as a confident man walked by. That confident swagger of a guy who knew exactly how sexy he was; it just set something in his stomach tingling.

San pulled away when he finally felt the cool metal in his palm, just enough to work the key in the lock with his slightly shaking hands. The door popped open and Yunho pushed them both inside the small studio that was San’s place. It was dim, only lit at the moment by the shine of the streetlights outside the single window on the wall opposite the door. Clicking the door closed behind them, Yunho pulled San tightly against him. He was hungry for him in more way than one.

San groped for the switch on the wall, reluctant to pull away from the embrace of the other man. He was afraid if he gave them too much space, a second to think at just the wrong moment, whatever was going to happen… wouldn’t. Giving up on the switch, San guided the other man towards the small brass framed bed located towards one side of the room. He pulled him along, guiding him without pulling away until he felt the edge of the frame hit the back of his calves. Dropping to a sitting position on the bed, San started fumbling with the button at the waist of Yunho’s pants.

“There’s no rush,” Yunho chuckled, putting his long elegant fingers over San’s, stilling them.

“Sorry,” San said quietly, thankful for the darkness that would hide his blush, or it would have, to someone other than a vampire. Yunho found it charming, almost quaint, how eager and yet shy he was. This clearly wasn’t a regular thing for him, unlike Yunho. It wasn’t that any warm body was good, but almost any would do and some he felt better about leaving half drained in some dark room than others. He’d try to be careful with San, after all, it might actually be nice to see him again sometime and that couldn’t happen with a body in the morgue.

Yunho took a seat, the springs of the bed creaking under their combined weight. Leaning in, Yunho cupped San’s cheek, guiding his face back to his for another kiss. San gladly leaned in to his slightly chilled lips, something he attributed to the chill of the fall weather outside. 

Yunho’s fingers brushed over his cheek and down to hold the side of his neck, feeling the soft, warm pulse just below. Following the same path as his fingers, Yunho’s lips brushed over the flushed skin until he found the right place. He licked, his teeth gently running over it, testing the other man’s reaction. The last thing he needed was to have him pull away, rip the tender flesh of his own neck open with a careless yank. When San only moaned and tilted his head to give the other man better access, Yunho took that as permission to have just a little taste.

As he sucked in a small bit of San’s flesh into his mouth his hand traveled down over the other man’s chest to tentatively rest on the growing erection still hidden beneath the soft wool of his suit. San sucked in his breath but didn’t pull away. Yunho bit down, feeling the trickle of blood spill into his mouth as he palmed San’s member. He felt it twitch as he fed from him, pleasure slinking through him with each gulping tug of Yunho’s mouth as he drank. He needed just enough for now, enough to warm his skin and fill his aching member to fullness. Tonight he wanted to have everything. With a lick he closed the cuts on San’s neck and pulled back to look at him, still flushed, still beautiful in his youthfulness.

San took a deep breath, the ripples of pleasure still rebounding in him. He couldn’t help but wonder why he had stopped. Had he done something wrong. Feeling inexplicably tired, he had to make an effort to open his eyes and look up into the gaze of the man beside him. Yunho smiled down at him with lips that San would swear looked a little sweeter, a little fuller, a little pinker than they had a few moments ago. It’s the aphrodisiac of the pleasure, it’s all in your head, he told himself.

“Can I touch you?” San asked, his dark eyes searching Yunho’s for signs that he was having second thoughts.

“Please,” Yunho agreed, guiding San’s hand to his now full erection. San went to his knees on the oak parquet that covered the floor of his apartment. His fingers, still feeling a little shaky, went to the warm black bone button that held the waistband of Yunho’s pants closed. It only took a second for him to slip the fastening through the slit in the fine fabric. With his fly open, Yunho lifted his hips to allow San to pull the clothes on the lower half of his body down and off, letting them pool around his ankles as the other man took a moment to gather his courage. Not yet ready to look up as butterflies fluttered in his stomach, San took a moment to gently pull off Yunho’s shoes, socks, and pants, carefully placing them near the foot of the bed on the floor. He turned, finally looking up to see Yunho, his shirt half unbuttoned from his collar down, leaning back casually, his long, hard dick framed by the inverted V from the last button on the placket as it opened down to the lower hem. He had never seen anything so tempting in his life. From the muscled smoothness of his chest and the breadth of his still covered shoulders, to his thick muscular thighs, Yunho was temptation.

“Won’t you taste me?” Yunho asked, running the fingertips of one hand up the inside of his thigh. San nodded, scooting forward and sitting on his heels to bring himself just a little higher between Yunho’s legs. Using one hand for leverage, San wrapped the other around the base of Yunho’s cock and brought it to his lips. He had never tasted another man, but, having been on the other end of such a thing more than once, he had a fair idea of where to start. Taking just the head into his mouth, he swirled his tongue around the tip. Yunho let out the sweetest low, rumbling moan San had ever heard.

The hand on Yunho’s thigh dropped so that San could reach down and stroke himself lightly, needing just a little relief, a little sensation as he strained against his pants. When Yunho’s hand caressed his cheek, San opened his eyes to look at him up the plane of his body. A shock of lust pooled in his stomach and he slid his mouth further down, watching pleasure flow across the features of the other man, lit only in profile from the dim light outside. The dimness and quiet of the room somehow made every sound, every movement just that shade more intense.

“You have a wonderful mouth,” Yunho complemented, a breathlessness suffusing his voice. Part of San wanted to say thank you, but most of him just wanted to show the other man just how good his mouth was. Sinking down until the tip brushed against the back of his throat, San tested his limits. He wanted all of him, he wanted to devour him with pleasure, but Yunho was not small. He wasn’t even average, if San would have taken a guess based on himself and on peeks he had gotten of others. Yunho was big, and even when he had sunk down until he felt him fill his mouth and brush the soft skin at the back of his throat, he had barely taken 2/3rds of him in.

San bobbed up and down a few more times, practicing letting his jaw move loosely over Yunho’s length as he built up a slick of saliva that eased his movements. Trying again, San sunk down to see how far he could go, pushing past that discomfort to feel the head slide down against the back of his throat. A tickle built in his throat and tears pooled in his eyes as he pulled off to cough.

“It’s okay, sweets,” Yunho leaned forward, cradling San’s teary cheeks in his hands. “I know I’m big, it feels good even if you can’t take it all.”

“I—” San started before the tickle built back up and he had to cough again, sniffling as his nose ran slightly from the sensation and his tears. “I know, but I like the feel of you, I like the way you slide into me.”

“Just don’t force yourself,” Yunho agreed, swiping away the tears with the pads of his thumbs. “We have time and those sweet lips feel wonderful wrapped around me.” San nodded, blinking away the blur to his vision a few more times before he parted his lips and took Yunho back in his mouth, a little more cautiously this time.

Sliding his head up and down what he could take of his length, San sucked and licked and tasted the salty treat that was Yunho. As he worked him, he could taste the gooey tang of his pre-cum coating his tongue now and again as his pleasure built. Yunho watched him, eyes hooded as the sight of San throwing himself into what he was doing with near abandon added to the rising tide of pleasure that was flooding him.

San still pushed himself, diving down the length of Yunho until he couldn’t struggle past his length and gagged or had his throat spasm at the invasion. Each time Yunho groaned, often twitching at the sensation of the muscles in San’s throat stroking him. When he managed to slide him particularly far down his throat he was rewarded with the sight of Yunho throwing his head back and letting out a breathless gasp.

“Ahh, fuck,” he panted, one hand gripping the sheets and another fisting in San’s soft hair. “I’m close… I’m so close.” San took this as encouragement, moving faster, then, going as deeply as he could and pausing for as long as his body would let him. It took only a few times of San repeating this to push Yunho over the edge and he was rewarded with the feel of the pulsing gush of the other man coming down his throat. It was warm and slick and moved slowly as it slid down into him, savoring the sensation.

“You’re an angel,” Yunho praised, guiding San off him and bringing his pink, swollen lips to his own for a kiss. He licked away a little of the saliva that glistened on the lower lip of the man still kneeling between his legs. He could still taste a little of himself there as well, an enchanting addition to the sweetness of the other man’s hot lips.

“Can you touch me?” San asked, steadying himself by putting his hands on Yunho’s spread knees.

“Come sit with me,” Yunho coaxed. San nodded, wiping the dampness off his chin and he pulled himself up. He started to move to take a seat beside Yunho on the bed, but, catching him by the wrist, the other man guided him to sit between his spread legs. Yunho’s hands went to San’s chest, pressing him back against him. San relaxed in his arms enjoying just the moment of being held in the other man’s long and lean arms.

“Do you mind if I undress you?” Yunho asked, running his hand down over San’s taught stomach. San nodded, using his own hand to press Yunho’s more firmly against his own body. Yunho chuckled, pressing a kiss to the other man’s temple before he freed his hands to start working on removing the slightly rumpled looking suit. His fingers were quick and efficient with the buttons at the front of his shirt, flicking them open with barely any effort. When the shirt was completely open, Yunho slid it and the jacket off San’s muscular shoulders, bearing his smooth and muscular chest to the room. Yunho hooked them both to the nob of the headboard, letting them hang so they wouldn’t get any more wrinkled than they already were. When that was done, he brought his hands back to San’s smooth body, letting his palms run over the line of his ribs and down to his hips, before making their way forward to the fastening at the front of his pants. Yunho couldn’t stop himself from running a teasing hand over the front of his trousers to feel the tempting length just barely hidden there.

“Lift for me,” Yunho instructed when he had undone San’s pants and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of both his pants and underwear. San eagerly lifted his hips, pushing his weight onto his hands and feet to allow Yunho to slide the fabric down and let his erection spring forth. When he put his weight back down, Yunho pulled him back into the V of his thighs and against his half bared chest as San kicked off the last of his clothes.

“Can… can you take off your shirt?” San asked without turning around, having felt the abrasion of the round buttons against his shoulder blade.

“Of course,” Yunho pressed a kiss to San’s bare shoulder, then leaned back enough to finish opening the last of the buttons before taking his shirt off and tossing it onto one corner of the foot of the bed. With both of them fully naked, Yunho scooted back until he could feel the wall against his back, scooping San into the cradle of his body so that he could resume his exploration of his form.

“Please touch me,” San breathed, leaning his head back against Yunho’s broad shoulder. “It feels like I’ve been waiting so long.” San’s restless hands moved up and down the textured length of Yunho’s hard thighs.

“I will, sweet,” Yunho soothed. “I just want to get to know you.” San could feel the smile that pressed against the side of his face as Yunho spoke. He felt harder than he could ever remember feeling and his body begged for release. Yunho could sense his impatience. It was written into every squirm and the tense line of his body. “Shhhhh,” he soothed, rubbing his nose in the loose locks of San’s hair.

“Just hold me, there,” he pleaded, guiding Yunho’s hand to his length. “You don’t have to move yet, but just touch me.”

“Alright,” Yunho agreed, his hand loosely gripping San’s hot, hard erection. It was soft under his hand, like velvet or suede covered steel. San let out a tense sigh, closing his eyes and enjoying the way Yunho’s slightly cooler hand seemed to envelop him. Keeping his grip light, Yunho moved his hand up and down, letting that first hint of sensation tingle over San’s nerves, half teasing and half relief. His other hand held San to him on his chest, just the tip of one finger moving to abrade the hardened nipple it could reach. Goosebumps rose on San’s skin and he shivered under the combination of sensations. San’s fingers gripped Yunho’s thighs just above the knees with a careless strength that would have left fingermark bruises on anyone else. Luckily Yunho couldn’t bruise, not that easily at least, and he loved the feedback that was telling him he was touching him just right.

“Tilt your head a little,” Yunho coaxed. “I want to reach your neck.”

San gladly tilted his head to the side, his member twitching just at the memory of the sensation of whatever he had done to his neck before. Yunho brushed his lips over the pulse in San’s neck as he began to move his hand a little faster, his grip just a little tighter as he did so. San moaned and shifted impatiently under the touch. Everything felt so good and he wasn’t sure why. It hadn’t been that long since he had been satisfied and by more than just his own hand. And it had been good, she had been good. The faint memory of sucking a soft nipple on the soft mound of a breast fluttered through his mind, as transient and insubstantial as a leaf caught in the draft of a strong gust that dies as quickly as it rose.

The sensation of Yunho running the pad of his thumb over the slick slit of his tip brought him back to the present. San sighed, his toes curling at the sensation. Pleasure washed through him, stealing his breath and stopping his mind from focusing on anything outside of the circle of Yunho’s arms.

Yunho’s lips teased the soft skin just under San’s ear, taking in his scent as he waited for the moment to bite. He wanted to feed at the moment he came, extending that pleasure and sweetening the taste of his blood with the rush of adrenaline and delight. Slowly increasing the pace of his movements, he varied his attention between stroking the whole length and giving the tip special attention, careful to not go to the point of over stimulating it.

“I’m so close,” San brought a hand up to hold the back of Yunho’s head as his lips sucked harder at the skin of his neck. “Please, whatever you did before, I want it again.”

“Patience, sweet,” Yunho hummed against him. “Almost there. Almost.” In a moment the pleasure suddenly crested and San held his breath as that first second of pleasure shocked through him before Yunho bit down. The bite magnified the sensation, making it reverberate through him with the resonance of a pitchfork struck against a hard surface.

Yunho sucked and fed, pulling every ounce of pleasure he could from San as he did so. San seemed frozen under his touch, unable to do more than just feel the power and the delight as it danced along every nerve in his body. It only faded as his limbs grew heavy and black spots began to float in patches in his vision. 

Yunho closed the wounds and pulled away when he felt and heard that tell-tale stutter in the beat of San’s heart. He could continue. He could draw out that pleasure until the thudding stopped. It would be so easy and San was such a willing victim. He would never find it in himself in that moment to utter the word stop. It just felt too good. But Yunho did, he pulled back, holding San as he went limp, losing consciousness and falling into a blackness that was deep and quiet.

His heartbeat was slow but steady and Yunho was relatively certain that he would wake sometime tomorrow, perhaps sore and surprised to feel so hungover when he only had that one drink. Yunho gently laid him down in the bed, drawing the covers up over his beautiful naked body, making sure that he was in something that looked like a comfortable position. As he looked down, in his chest, his heart moved faintly in something that could almost be mistaken for beating. Almost.

Picking up his clothes, he carefully redressed, trying to look his best, despite a few wrinkles and creases that were too stubborn to be pulled or brushed away. He paused at a mirror, smoothing down his hair again, leaving it almost looking untouched by the events of the night. Casting a glance back at the man lying so prettily unconscious in the bed, Yunho couldn’t help but smile.

Going over to the desk, Yunho shuffled through a few drawers before he found a small pad of paper with a page he could rip out to scribble something.

I hope the morning finds you well, he wrote in a flowing hand that belied his age if someone paid enough attention. If you ever feel like a repeat performance, you know where to find me. He signed the bottom of the page with an ornate Y before picking up the page and folding it in half. Taking a moment, he neatly arranged San’s discarded clothes in the hopes it would make his morning just a little bit more pleasant. He pocketed the key taking it from San’s pocket where he had slipped it after letting them in. Taking the note, he slipped it into one of San’s shoes, sure that it would be secure there and not lost in the shuffle of papers that might belong on one of the counters in his home.

With one last caress of the other man’s cheek, Yunho stood up and quietly made his way to the front door. Slipping out into the hall, he clicked the door shut behind him, turning the key in the lock before dropping it back inside though the mail slot. With a fresh vigor and a skip in his step, and with the faint smell of cedar and sage clinging to him, Yunho made his way out of the apartment building and onto the cool, damp streets of Paris in fall. It really had been the best night he’d had in ages. With any luck, someday soon, that sweet, fragile man would step back into Le Chat Noir and back into his life. Until then, he’d have to be satisfied with other passing fancies and the memory of a very lovely night.

Masterlist

[wwilloww]

athair lusa | pjm

athair lusa, the ground ivy, springing up from the soil with rich, purple flowers and broad green leaves.  

Origin: Ireland

Pairing: Jimin x FaePrince!Taehyung

Genre: Folklore. Suspense. Fae!Au.  

Rating: NC-17

WC: 2.4k

Summary: “Is it not a strange request,” Jimin says, “to ask me to dance when there is no music?” While on his way to draw water from the well, Jimin slips on a rock. When he stands up again, the world around him seems unrecognizable, as if everything has been dusted with an unfamiliar enchantment. 

Warnings: Possessive behavior.  

A/N: This story, also known as “The Fairy Dance,” is a story I grew up to, one that was told to me over and over. I consider this to be part of a larger personal project to queer the stories I grew up on. It’s an effort to normalize the presence of queerness in lore and unravel gendered expectations within folktales. Because of this I’ve done my best to stick to the oral telling of this story in both content and style - meaning the writing differentiates itself significantly from my usual style! This project is special to me and I truly hope you enjoy it. I can’t wait to hear what you think of it.

Thank you to @jingabitch​ for helping me when I felt most stuck with this! Thanks a million to my love @ot7always​ for editing the image in this banner and listening to me ramble. And of course a hUGE THANKS to the lovely folk in BTS Smut Hub for being my constant inspiration and motivation.

And finally, this is part of @ksmutclub​’s Twisted Fairytale collaboration!

masterlist

Athair-Lusa.

In a town on the western most coast of the Isle, there lived a young man with hair that shone like the rays of August sun. He was beloved by the townspeople, known for the enchanting melodies that lifted from his lips like birdsong, ensnaring anyone in range. His name was Jimin.

One day in late November, as the night began to draw in, Jimin set down his reading and readied himself to go out into the darkness. He preferred the stillness of sunset and often went out at this time, just to hear the soft hymn of the world slipping slowly into sleep.

Now, it has long been known that the Veil between worlds is thinnest in November. As the remaining veins of summer fade from the land, spirits and creatures of the other worlds come to press up against the thin border between their world and ours. Even nighttime comes to linger, snatching time away from the golden fingers of the sun.

On this night, Jimin decided to take his walk to the well to gather water. He swung his wooden bucket over his shoulder and set off into the darkness. The trees stood tall above him, watching his path. Jimin felt the hair on his neck raise, as if something was watching him from the shadows. However, rather than turning home, he lifted his face to the night sky and sang. The music spilling from his lips split through the darkness of the night, and Jimin felt a sense of peace wash over him.

As the small stone structure of the well came into sight, his foot slipped. He could feel his ankle twisting, and then the feeling of falling through empty space. The air wooshed up around him as he fell.

His back hit the hard earth of the path, crushing the breath out of his lungs. For a moment, Jimin simply lay there, taking deep breaths to calm the fright in his body.

When he lifted his head, his old wooden bucket was nowhere to be seen. Instead of a path hardened by thousands of years of travelers, Jimin lay on a soft field of grass, shimmering emerald green beneath the full moon. Around him, everything seemed as if it had been touched by an enchantment. The trees, whose leaves had dropped a month ago, were now blossoming with flowers of the most brilliant colors. The chill of the winter air was replaced with a soft and warm breeze, lifted off a summer sea. And as he looked up at the sky, the moon hung twice as large, as if she had come down from her high throne in the sky to take a closer look at the goings-on of the people below.

As Jimin sat up, he saw a great crowd gathered a short distance away. As his vision cleared, he realized that they were circled round a fire that danced and leaped and seemed to reach out to the figures surrounding it. As if his mind had been wiped clean of thought, Jimin stood and began to move towards the crowd, mystified by their tall frames and slender figures.

Jimin himself was of average height, his body built like the land. Ready to work, ready to dance. But at this moment in time, Jimin’s body drew him forward towards the beings that stood round the fire, till at last, he stood in the very midst of them.

They held onto their silence, watching his every step. It was at this moment that he thought to be afraid. But as he made to step backward, to step out of their circle, he realized he could not.

Panic began to rise in his throat like bile, setting his muscles alight. Just as he opened his mouth to scream, the crowd around him turned and parted and a handsome young man stepped into view. Jimin’s eyes widened as he took in the figure, who walked like a prince. He wore a red sash, deep as freshly drawn blood. A golden band dressed his long dark hair, shining like the sky on the eve of a new moon.

Jimin’s heart thrummed in his chest as he realized the handsome prince was approaching him. He walked slowly towards him, allowing his eyes to rove over the young man. When he finally reached him, he bowed and extended a hand. An offering.

“Is it not a strange request,” Jimin said, “to ask me to dance when there is no music?”

The prince raised his head from the deep bow and swept his hand into the air. Instantly, the sweetest music carried through the night, surrounding them. He took Jimin’s hand with one of his own, wrapping the other one tightly around his waist. Jimin gasped as his chest was brought to the prince’s, their closeness sending warmth to his cheeks.

"What is your name, dear stranger?" Jimin asked, his brow furrowed. His words seemed to stick in his throat, bewilderment flooding his mind. Such a handsome stranger had never wrapped him up like this before, in such beauty, in such enchantment.

The prince smirked. "You may call me Taehyung."

"Are you a prince of these people?"

"If that is the word you use—then yes."

Jimin opened his mouth to ask more, but the Prince silenced him with a twirl, sending all thought of questioning the strange being before him out of his mind.

They danced until the moon became tired and went to sleep beneath the darkness of the horizon and the stars took their leave from the dance floor. As the prince twirled him round the fire, it seemed as if Jimin was gliding through the air. He had always been known by the townsfolk for his light touch and graceful step. But in the prince’s arms, Jimin’s body felt different. The strain of the movements was eased and he felt boundless energy spring up in his chest beneath the attentive gaze of the prince.

"I have never seen a man dance with your grace," the Prince mused, his gaze falling to Jimin's lips. "Or known one to capture such beauty in his every movement."

Jimin was not used to such flattery. His cheeks were painted with his embarrassment, he ducked his head. The Prince was quick to lift his chin, bringing his face ever-so-close.

“Do you like me, sweet boy?” the Prince asked, tilting his head.

“I do not know you,” Jimin replied, slowly. “How do I know if I like you if I have just met you?”

“There is an eternity to get to know me.” A smirk flashed across the Prince’s sharp features before he pulled Jimin tightly against his tall frame and spun him further into the dance.

Twirling around the fire, it became easy to forget the rest of the world. For that moment, all that existed was the feeling of his feet leaping off the ground, and the low music, and the feeling of being held so tightly by his partner.

Just as Jimin began to feel like time was slipping away from him, the figures around him stilled and the music slowed to a complete halt. The prince still had his arms wrapped around the smaller man, his face pressed close and curious.

"Will you dine with us tonight, dear Jimin?" the prince asked, his voice threaded with sweetness. Jimin's gaze fell to the prince's lips where a small smile played along the pink, plush corner. He wondered when the Prince had learned his name.

Before he could answer, the ground rumbled and split open, a long staircase descending into the darkness of the earth. The prince held out a hand, and hesitating, Jimin took it. Despite the warmth of the tall man's palm, Jimin's skin erupted in goosebumps.

The prince led him down the flight of steps, the rest of the dancers following silently behind. It seemed as if the stairs might never end, the rock around them becoming darker and warmer as they descended. After an unspeakable time, the steps widened and a great hall appeared before them, lit by thin candles that stood as tall as Jimin. As he looked up at the ceiling of the hall, he realized there was no roof, despite the depth to which they had descended. Instead, a yawning darkness looked down upon the company and untethered, unsourced lights bobbed gently through the air as if upon an invisible current. Before them lay a great table, heaped with every delicacy Jimin had ever conceived of and decanters filled with the most aromatic wines.

The Prince squeezed his hand tenderly, guiding him to the head of the table. There, the Prince took the golden plated chair and motioned for Jimin to take the one beside it. Gratefully, he bowed his head and slipped silently into the seat, admiring the gentle merriment and splendor laid before him.

As Jimin took the scene before him in, the Prince leaned closer to him, reaching out to twirl a piece of his light hair between his fingers.

“I’ve always wanted this,” the Prince said, his eyes never leaving the man’s hair.

“W-what?”

The Prince seemed to catch himself and pulled himself out of his reverie.

“I am a collector of beautiful things,” he said, as if that explained his strange words.

“I don’t understand.”

The Prince smiled softly, running his finger down Jimin’s nose and over his lips.

“Then drink and be merry,” he sang, his voice strung together in the most beautiful melody.

A dark-haired lady came between the Prince and Jimin, holding a jewel-encrusted decanter. Bowing her head, she first filled the Prince's cup, her hands wrapping slender and delicate around the silver handle. But as Jimin watched, he realized there was a slight tremble to her movements. He looked up at her, only to see her eyes darting to and from the Prince and his newest companion.

The young lady came around Jimin's other side, and as she leaned over to pour his golden goblet full of the sweet wine, she whispered in his ear, "Eat no food, and drink no wine or you will never see your home again."

With that, the woman stood abruptly and disappeared down one of the many hallways that spotted the great chamber.

Jimin quickly set the cup down on the table. The Prince took note of this, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"My dear, sweet Jimin," he said, his voice threading through the air like song. His voice spoke of softness, of tender touches exchanged in the dark. And yet, as Jimin gazed upon him, he saw the coldness in the Prince's gaze. "Do you not enjoy the taste of my wine?"

"No, no," he said, quick to unravel the tension of the moment. "I am simply not thirsty."

The Prince leaned into him, a smile spreading across his lips. "After all that dancing, you must be thirsty." He brought the cup to Jimin's lips, but he held his mouth shut.

The others at the table had fallen silent to watch the Prince hold the goblet to the man’s lips.

A large one with silver hair that fell to his waist stood abruptly from his chair, knocking it back in the process. "Whoever comes to our table must drink with us," he growled, grabbing Jimin's arm. A deep shock ran through him, stopping his heart.

At that moment a red-haired lass, her hair split into intricate braids, snatched Jimin's free hand and tugged him from the grasp of the large silver-haired being.

"Run!" she commanded, tugging Jimin towards the stairs. The pair wove their way towards the entrance, dodging the grasp of the dancers.

Around him, Jimin could hear the bellowing anger of the Prince, echoing off the walls of the hall as if he stood in every corner. Chairs and platters crashed to the floor as his subjects jumped up, attempting to stop his exit.

While Jimin was not large and while he did not hold the brute strength that many men boasted about, he was graceful and swift. Guided by the red-haired woman's agile steps, his pace was quick, as if he had learned this kind of dance many many years ago.

The pair sprinted up the steps, hand-in-hand, until they emerged into the dark night. The coolness of the early winter air washed over them, bathing their red faces and stinging their lungs. From the satchel that hung round her waist, the woman withdrew a vine. She grabbed Jimin’s hand, opening it up so she could place the plant securely. With tenderness, she wrapped her hand around his, closing it in a fist.

"You are safe for the time being," she said, her breath heavy with effort. "Take this, and hold it until you reach home. No one can harm you." Jimin opened his palm to look down upon the large-leafed plant. Athair-Lusa. Ground ivy.

"Thank you," he whispered.

The woman nodded, a sad smile playing across her lips. Her eyes shone with the kind of grief that only one who knows their own destiny can hold.

Jimin could hear the sounds of footsteps running up the stairs and so he took the white and green plant and turned his back on the field, the stairs, and the man who had held him so tenderly; and he ran. He ran along the sward and through the forests surrounding the town, past the well, and across the path. At last, he reached his home. He threw open the wooden door and locked it behind him.

His heart beat so quickly and furiously he worried it would pound its way straight through his ribcage. Behind his back pressed to the door, he could hear a great sound emerge from the forest and a voice cried out to him—

"The power I had over you is gone through the magic of the herb that ties you to this world. But when you dance again to our music, you will stay with me forevermore, and nothing shall hinder that eternity."

Jimin closed his eyes, clutching the herb to his chest. When he had regained his breath, he made his way over to the small bed tucked in the corner of his small home, folding the leafy plant carefully beneath the collar of his shirt.

It took a while before sleep came for him, and when it did, it was restless and dreamless.

However, Jimin kept the magic branch safely tucked into his clothes every day and the Fae never troubled him.

But it took many years before the sweet, low sound of music and the searing eyes of the Prince left his dreams.

taglist: @ppersonna​ @thatlongspringnight​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​ @ladyartemesia​ @ezralia-writes​ @ggukcangetit​

masterlist

[nightswithkookmin]

JIKOOK:DON'T ASK ME TO STOP LOVING YOU. I WON'T- Jikook Shading eachother pt3

Disclaimer:

Everything expressed in her is my opinion. It is not intended to be malicious or disrespectful to any of the parties here in mentioned. Please don't be weird.

Jeon Jungkook is in love with Park Jimin. Period. If you have doubts, take my word for it. That man heard a bell ring and he's been following that jingle sound till thy kingdom come. Bless him.

No, I am not off track. We are still on the Jikook breakup/fights 2020 train and it's express. Beep beeeeep! Sorry.

Jk loves Jimin and it is the cause of all his woes- with Jimin as well as with the other bandmates. His problem is he loves that man- too much.

Yes, the 2019 November-December tensions with his bandmates was all because he keeps blurring the lines between his relationship and his career. He is lucky, both of them are lucky that they found eachother in a space like this where they have the opportunity to love and still have it all. Trust me, it's rare.

Except JK didn't join BTS to pursue a career. Bless him. He went there to harvest him some sweet love. Lol. Jokes aside, Jk when he started out had no goals, no ambitions whatsoever. He was young. He was just following the path set out for him by his parents perhaps, his teachers- and also he thought Namjoon's thighs were hella delicious. Lol

He has had to grow to love and appreciate his craft and career just as he's said in the recent Japan comeback interviews. He even almost quit singing to go be a dancer and all it took was Jimin telling him he had an amazing voice for him to stay- the power of park Jimin!

That's how young and naive he was when he began his career path. Let's get a bit deep and psychoanalyze him real quick. He made an entire life decision to join a boyband for seven years not because he loved to sing and dance but because he admired the zeal od RM?

Then when layer he was exposed to dance, and had to make an equally important life decision, he allowed another bandmate(Jimin) to make that decision for him. This should tell you the state of his mind as at the time. He was young and impressionable with no aspirations of his own.

Even as of 2019, he said he had no idea what he was going to do with his life after BTS had the band disbanded in 2018. That's a lot of experience span to not know what he wants to do with his life.

Now I don't mean to say he is immature but we all know the members especially Jimin have pointed out time and again that JK is in fact immature or can be.....

He seems to me as the type who still have a lot to figure out and per his recent interviews where he's talked about taking time to himself to work on himself and his hobbies etc. I have a feeling 2020 has been a period of awakening for him. A period where he is self actualizing a lot and I'm happy for him.

But it is what is causing this age of enlightenment in his life that has me curious.

Moving on, this young, naive, impressionable JK as he was in the early days of BTS started developed feelings for his hyung. Do you see the problem? I'll wait....

These feelings, I assume, began as pure admiration and fondness of Jimin. Jimin was this talented and hardworking, spontaneous, energetic hyung and JK with an impressionable mind as his was was bedazzled by him.

Soon these feelings would morph into what could be seen as an obsession, infatuation and then finally love.

The way I see it, loving Jimin gave him purpose for the first time in his young life. He may not have known much about his life goals and ambitions but he knew being with Jimin gave him a solid ground to stand on, a new sense of direction, certainty and purpose.

He got to share in Jimin's passions, share his with him, dance together, sing, practice, rehearse, make him the subject of his photography, the subject of his attention, care for him, be cared for by him- something he hadn't had the chance to experience from home before he was yanked away into idol life.

Growing up, we all experience that moment where we imprint on friends and relatives. My uncle was my mentor as well as my elder brother too. I admired them so much I sometimes confused that with romantic love till I got socialized properly.

Jk's socialization was.... He....

-Jk may be an introvert but he thrives and shines best when he partners up or is in a group like BTS or his friends group etc and Jimin i feel was the ideal partner for him; his queerness, his adventurousness, pushing JK's boundaries, challenging his beliefs, showing him how to have a good time- ok I really want this Jimin back! Like right now!

Jimin left an impression on JK's young mind. He imprinted on him. And for the longest time, we've seen the way he stares at Jimin.JK really loves Jimin.

So what's the problem?? Loving JM is consuming his mind y'all. It's all he thinks off. All he cares of. He seems super hyper focused on Jimin so much so that it is affecting the dynamics of their group.

His jealousy,possessiveness- He knows he has to keep his relationship a secret for the sake of the group because it is their secret too and yet he just can't help himself.

I feel RM and the others complain a lot about how he let's his jealousy get the best of him. Like how he almost exposed JM as his boyfriend on several occasions verbally( see previous post for further details)

Like how him getting jealous and possessive gives them away more often. I mean JM is bad at hiding it too but let's be honest JK isn't winning any awards with that bad acting. *sigh. He is hopeless.

But yes this is what led to the MMA standoff with RM. It is also the reason for the tensions between Jikook during Jin's birthday VLive (JM asked him to keep his distance because the members had tried to separate them earlier and so JM was just being salty af during this period. It had nothing to do with JK but the others. See Golden Disc and you'll understand)

This also led to their subsequent break up( which you will notice during the comeback interviews and promotions periods- I don't know about you but they were giving off two exes tryna to keep it happy for the cameras during that period but failed cos their interaction were just....)

PS: there are a lot of moments I want to point out but don't know where to begin cos there are a lot.

The blackswan behind scenes moments( JM asking JK if he he wanted to be in a subunit with someone else, JM making JK jealous during the interviews, JK using Tae to make JM jealous the next day, JK holding JMs hands not wanting to let go- he was missing his ex. Lol it's what you do when you have to be friends with that ex you still love and won't hesitate to touch them given the slightest opportunity and once you do you don'twanna let go)

Just look at that whole On comeback promotion moments. You'll understand what I mean.

Also the Run episode moments- you know the one JK almost beat Suga up with the frying pan- JM for this phase seemed to be to be trying to get back together with JK. Dude was clingy as fuck! And for once he was on his best behaviour, trying his hardest not to make JK jealous. I mean the Run behind scenes moment where JM was helping Tae clean off food residue on his mouth but stopped immediately when JK lifted his head. *insert skull head emoji. Lol

To say JM was a bit clingy during this getting back together phase would be an understatement. Remember his clingy moments during Suga's birthday Vlive 2020? And during Festa too? He was trying to get JK's attention and also impress him throughout.

Around this breakup moment too was when he was spending a lot of time with Tae playing video games with Army, posting their selfies at 4 AM and what not. It is also the same period he posted a picture of himself with his dogs on Twitter and said he was trying to spend time with loved ones- if that wasn't shade to JK!

They couldn't post 13th May because of these issues they were having. Not that JM didn't try though. He posted on the 1st, JK should have followed with 3rd but did was busy pouting somewhere. JM still gave us a 5/8=13 selca though so yaay!

What I'm trying to say is, their fight has been about JK not wanting to be separated from JM and JM asking JK to cool it off for a while to not cause trouble with the members and the company.

To which Jk responds with:

1. Interrupting JM's call with Jin during his VLive to ask him on a date and say I love you to him. Dude is a rebel, I don't know what you want me to say. He is not gonna cool it just because it makes the other worried he is exposing them too much.

Jk interrupting JMs live I feel got Jikook in trouble because after that Vlive JM never did a solo live on VLive again to this day. His subsequent lives have all been on YouTube.

I have a feeling he was penalized because that VLive exposed them. And no, I'm not being delusional. Jikook were both banned from doing a VLive together alone following their New Jersey VLIVE in 2019 when they- I don't even know how to describe what they did in that live!

And to make it less obvious, I think BigHit decided the others should stop doing solo Vlives on VLive altogether because now they all do their solo lives on YouTube as well and if they have to do a Vlive it is heavily monitored by BigHit staff or its radio and not done in their rooms too.

So I think Jimin got pissed at JK for doing that and getting them in trouble again. I mean if you heard him sigh during the new Jersey VLive you would know how frustrated JK makes him. He loves him too but.... Jk can be a bit too much ya know?!

Anyhoo, so I believe JM called for some space and told JK to take up interests in other things beside him and I don't know how JK took it but he responded with this:

Posting the cover of the song Not Never. Which was him basically saying for as long as he lives he will not never think about JM. As in he is never not ever keeping away from JM. We might have to pry Jimin from his cold hands! *sigh

Which leads to the radio Vlives moments,

Something Jimin said during his interview with suga caught my attention. He said it was nice that they get to speak with Armies at least like this. I believe all these were putting a lot of stress on Jimin as he has decided to take a break off social media prior to him saying so on this interview. But the wording of that statement also made be believe some thing or someone was preventing him from talking to Armies in the usual manner.

Earlier with RM he had said how he would go crazy if they weren't allowed to do certain things he was used to doing on stage as well. So that also raised a flag to me.

I had a feeling Suga had invited JM on that Radio live to address his 'issues'- including his issues with JK. Jikook have a subtle way of communicating with each other and somehow social media has a huge part in that. They not the only ones, Beyonce and JayZ also addressed their relationship issues through their music, going back and forth yet they lived together. I DONT UNDERSTAND THESE CELEBRITIES!!!

Sorry for the rant. Anyway I had a feeling JK was listening to the radio interview too.

Suga asked JM why he didn't come to his music video set to support him- which I believe he was referring to his Daechwita shoot. JM didn't go because, take a guess...

JK was there too. Lol. He had gone with Jin and even ended up filming a part in the music video. My guess is Jk thought Jimin was gonna be there because he always go to Support Suga and the others in times like that.

So Jimin responds with 'were you expecting me? .... I didn't come because I want you to want me more.' Now that's an absolutely random response don't you think? He couldhave said something logical like he had to record at a studio or something- unless he wasn't talking about Suga but was sending that message to someone else who was listening in. A certain man with a JM tatto ring on his ring finger perhaps??

JM from this response revealed he intentionally missed that shoot. He knew JK would be there and he wanted him to ask where JM was at it he wasn't at the shoot. It's also interesting how during this period JK was spending a lot of time with Jin. When he interrupted JM's Vlive call he was with Jin. He went with Jin to Suga's MV and Jin posted a selca of him and shirtless Jk dieimh this period too while JM was mostly seen with Tae. What does this remind you of??

MANILA. same thing happened when they had that Manila fight. Jin was with JM and we all know who was siding with JK!

Why would JM say he wants to be enacted more? Easy- He a slytherin and a Libra and those two mixed together is sinister. Kidding.

I believe JK intentionally took a step back from JM, to give him the space he wanted and it had JM feeling someway about it. Probably had him feeling JK didn't want him as much anymore. Dude is insecure we been known. He a Libra and a slytherin what y'all expect?

So I'm guessing JM put up the classic textbook attitude towards JK which had JK all confused because he had no idea what their issues were anymore or why his boyfriend was spending his nights at Tae. You want space, you got it. Why you mad?

So JK reaches out to Suga for help. because the intention was fix his relationship not have it plummet. Dude is in love with this man and will do whatever it takes to keep his relationship. *Sigh

Suga comes through for him with the interview. And I think JK put two and two together- literally. He comes up with still with you a few days after JM's interview and does a radio interview with Suga as well.

Now the focus of this interview was his "apology to Armies for his scandal.' But funny, cos his scandal happened a month before the interview. Suga radio had been ongoing after the scandal and yet this man didn't think once to come on it and apologize to Armies about an incident that BigHit had already addressed until JMs interview.

You don't talk about scandals. That's the protocol.

Let me also point out JK has had several scandals in the past of which he had never addressed in a Vlive let alone apologize in that way. Not saying he wouldn't, he hasn't. They themselves don't address scandals unofficially, that's the protocol and he knows it.

If they were allowed to think Armies would be more interested in him addressing the Tatoo gurl scandal not his Friday night happy hours with his friends. That apology was for Jimin not armies.

Also, he pointed out how still with you was written when he was alone in the dark thinking by himself. That sounds to me like something you do when you've had a fight with your boyfriend/girlfriend and they've packed their things and left your shared apartment.

Interestingly, Jk mentioned during Festa the rain fight. Still with you literally has rain drops sounds in the beginning of the song and also on the cover on sound cloud. Seems to me that whatever happened that night had JK reminiscing about times he'd fought with JM- the rain fight. Which is what inspired still with you (I will do a full analysis of that song and others soon here on my blog'

Yea, so he apologized to JM for their fight I guess and said he loves Army. *smirk.

And things started falling into place right after that. They started- Jikooking again. Jk called JM out on Weverse so they start their online flirting thingy- posting immediately after each other, 13, those kinda things

Things seemed good. Untill their Japan interviews when JK said spending time alone pursuing new hobbies was gold to him and JM saying maintaining his relationships with friends and family is good to him. Seems JK is still salty about JM wanting space. It will take sometime for him to get used to not being around JM 24/7. Know what I mean?

I don't think there was major tension there. Just two lovebirds shading eachother. *smirk I mean the passive aggressiveness of it all. Lol

I have a feeling JK will keep jabbing at JM with that because let's face it, he is the emo one in that relationship and most importantly he loves JM with all his being and wants to be with him always. A partner asking for space can feel like they are pushing you away or rejecting you. It triggers a lot of insecurities so I understand JK in that sense. They are both not wrong in my opinion. Space can be a good thing and hey at least JK got to read a whole book during this time! Who woulda thought!

And quiet honestly, if Jikook are real as I believe they are then these issues they are having pales in comparison to the hurdles that lie ahead of them for when they decide to come out or live as a forever couple.

I guess It is why JK put these lyrics in GCF Helsinki at JMs part:

Why do you spend your time leading the chorus,

When the war was just waiting before us?

As if you didn't know

I guess it's sums up what Jikook were dealing with during that period of you take into consideration the fact this was released end of December/ early 2020.

Jimin pays too much attention to what people thinks of their relationship as if he didn't know what he was getting himself into. ...

This has been a long one, chai! Sorry. I get carried away sometimes talking about Jikook. Lol.

So what is the state of their relationship? They good. I been told y'all JK is trying to bring back their old online filtering habits. He did it on Weverse when he posted about him reading and asking what JM was doing forcing JM to come out with a response.

He did the same yesterday when he posted a cover song after JM posted his selca on Twitter. They good. They more than good I believe. I will keep observing and will update y'all with my observations as and when.

Oh and I will be doing an analysis of his new cover may be later tonight. Until then its Jikook forever bishes! Gang, gang, gang,

I'M OUT!

[soviet-protivogaz]

Devil’s Dance Floor; Sean MacGuire

[re-written]

Sean deserves a little bit more love.  Here’s a sweet tale of Sean falling in love with a right Irish gal before he fell in with Dutch and his boys.

The song featured is “Devil’s Dance Floor” by Flogging Molly. I, in no way, claim it to be my own.

Pairing: Sean MacGuire X OC

It was a warm, August night in 1897 when Sean MacGuire met Sorcha O'Donoghue, starting a new chapter in his  life.  Growing up on the streets of Donegal with his dear ol' Da, his short time on this earth had been anything but simple.  At a young age, thanks to his father's escapades in Ireland, he had immigrated to the carnivorous pit that is Hell's Kitchen, located in a poor area of Manhattan.  And soon, that pit devoured his father, leaving Sean with nothing.  Much of his life in the United States had been met with hardships, from petty crimes to facing the prejudice the masses held toward the Irish people– And that's why Sean spent much of his free time at Keegan's Ale House.  Surrounded by like-minded individuals, a night at the pub was the best way to clear one's mind at the end of the work week. Without obligations the next morning, Friday nights often wound up rowdy.  And tonight would be no different.

“'Nother pint a' the brown stuff!”

Slamming his empty mug on the counter, Sean beckoned the bartender for another drink.  When a fresh glass slid down the bar and into his empty hand, the young man slammed back his beer.  Devouring half of his drink with haste, he let out an audible gasp of approval.  Keegan's was as lively as ever, and Sean certainly felt at home.  The establishment was small, harboring some twenty seats at most, and yet people littered the building from wall to wall.  A large smile had been planted on his face since he had ventured through the threshold just a half-hour prior.  

“Aye, MacGuire,” a man called out, slamming his shoulder into Sean.  The harsh movement came just as he was to take another gulp of his beer, most of it spilling down his chin rather than making it in his mouth. “Hidin' o'er here at the bar, aye?”

“Few more pints, and you'll be beggin' me to stop gabbin'!” Sean chortled, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.  “You that lonely, Pat? Should'a just told me!”

Stark laughter bellowed from the both of them, clearly intoxicated. Bumping shoulders usually turned to shoving, and shoving turned to headlocks; every time Sean was with Pat MacLoughlin, there were fights.  And every time, it turned to drinks, laughter, and singing.  While living in a shantytown in New York was far from what Sean had dreamed of in his younger years, it was proving to be everything he had wanted.  Sure, he hadn't the money for a big fancy house and high-dollar liquor, and some nights he might've went without dinner, but he was having the time of his life.  What's the point in all that money if you don't have some fun?  Sean would never be a business man, and he knew that. He'd rather pickpocket, drink, and pass out in the streets without a care in the world.

In a haze, Pat had dragged Sean away from the bar, but not before ordering another pint for each of them.  A large group had formed in the center of the ale house, as men and women stomped their feet and danced.  The man at the piano had beads of sweat collecting on his brow as he continued to slam the ivory keys before him.  Another man had stepped up on a table, flute in hand as he abused the mouthpiece of his instrument.  A jaunty Irish tune had filled the bar, and it seemed as though everyone had joined in the merrymaking.

And in that moment, Sean noticed a young woman.  Her dark blonde locks were tightly pulled to the top of her head in a knot, a few stray strands falling into her face.  For a very brief moment, her blue eyes locked with his, causing him to freeze in his tracks.  She was beautiful, that was certain.  And that bright, pearly smile of hers that painted her cheeks shone brighter than the lights hanging above. Her hands had balled against her skirt as she kicked her feet in beat to the tune.  

Cupping his hands around his lips, Sean shouted, over the sound of the music, “Dance, lass, dance!”

Her lips curled even more, and the girl spun in a circle.  With quick movements, she kicked her feet, never once missing the beat or stumbling.  She was young, really young.  As Sean continued to watch her, he could only wonder what she was doing in a place like this. Not that the pub was frequented by hooligans, but more often than not, it was filled with what many would consider lowlifes.

As time continued to pass, the ale house simply grew louder and louder. Like a celebration of life, the patrons continued to sing and dance together.  Sean felt that it was his time to shine.  He had spent many long nights squawking out of tune and stumbling around, and that night was no different.  After slamming back more than a handful of beers, he made his way over to the dance floor.  With his right foot, Sean began to stomp to a particular beat.  He clapped his hands together, urging others to join in.  Just as the volume began to rise and a small circle had formed around him, he stole a glance of the blonde.  With that same grin etched into her face, she slapped her palms together for the song.  Soon, came the flute, with a particularly Irish energy.  The clicking of spoons fell to the same pace as the stomps.  The sweet ring of a fiddle soon joined in the song.

Jumping into the middle of the floor, Sean began to sing, his eyes locked on the current target of his affection,  “Her breath began to speak as she stood right-a-in front of me.  The color of her eyes were the color of insanity.  Crushed beneath her wave, like a ship, I could not reach her shore.”

Their eyes locked, and Sean leaped over to her.  Being a bit bold, thanks to consuming a bit of liquid courage, he held a hand out to her, beckoning her to dance.  Her gaze was lively, inviting, as she allowed herself to slip into his hold.

“We're all just dancers on the devil's dance floor!”

The force of his grip caused the woman to stumble a bit in surprise, her face cracked under the pressure of the atmosphere.  The beat of the melody quickened, and Sean held both of her palms tightly in his. Laughter spilled from her lips, a sound sweeter than anything that ever touched his ears.  As though she had been dancing her entire life, she proved to be an excellent partner.  Moving to the beat, her feet were quick, but steady.  Another musician joined in, giving the song a bit of an Irish twinge with his guitar.

“Well, swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o.  Swing a little more, a little more next to me!”  Sean roughly pulled the girl to his side, one hand holding hers, and the other tight around her waist.  He pressed his cheek to hers affectionately.  “Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o.  Swing a little more on the devil's dance floor!”

Slowing for the storytelling of the song, the music continued it's previous tempo.  The man with the flute whistled, swaying back and forth as he lost himself in the moment.  Patrons resumed their stomps and claps, egging Sean and his new-found friend for more.  They cleared space for their swinging.  Giving her a bit of distance, Sean stepped away from the girl, looking her right in the eyes.  He was no longer performing for the pub, he was performing for her, with her.  

“Pressed against her face, I could feel her insecurity.  Her mother'd been a drunk, an' 'er father was obscurity.  But nothin' ever came from a life that was a simple one, so pull yerself together girl and have a l'il fun!”

The music picked up pace for a second, before falling to the steady beat again.  Maybe it was the beer, or maybe it was the fact that Sean had, in fact, spotted an angel on this Earth.  A spark of confidence consumed him.  And he was determined to soil whatever innocence this girl had to offer.  He was transfixed, in a manner he could not control.  Everything from that pearly smile, her pale skin and freckles; if she wasn't perfect, she was damn near there.

“Well, she took me by the hand, an' I could see she was a fiery one.  Her legs ran all the way up to heaven an' past Avalon,” Sean stepped forward, closing the remaining distance between them.  He held out his hand just as he had before.  “Tell me somethin' girl, what it is you have in store, she said, 'come with me now'–”

When he fell silent, and the music continued, the young woman quickly realized he was beckoning her to sing, and she quickly blurted out, “Come with me now on the devil's dance floor!”

Pulling her to him once again, Sean continued to sing and sway.  Looking into her eyes, he couldn't ignore the fact that she was having the time of her life, just as he was.  The long, grueling days of working were easy to take joy out of one's being.  Times like these, where the Irish could be who they were, dance how they want, sing out of tune with that odd twang, those were the times he lived for.  He hadn't felt like this in a long, long time.

“Well, swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o.  Swing a little more, a little more next to me!”  Twirling his partner about, Sean realized she was singing the chorus with him.  She didn't seem to mind when his hand would fall a bit further below her waist or when he would affectionately press his face against hers.  Less than a minute ago, neither of them knew the other existed.  Even now, he didn't know her name.  And yet, he felt as though he had grown up with her, that she'd been with him all his life.

The singing ceased, as the makeshift band played a bit slower.  Sean watched as the young lady pulled herself away and started to click her shoes against the old, beaten floorboards.  With her fists clenched against her skirt, the garment flowed from her legs.  Her feet moved at an almost inhuman pace, her heels solid enough for her brief tap-dancing.  Patrons behind her cheered, pushing her more and more, and she obliged.  Whether it was the influence of the booze or the music, for a moment, Sean MacGuire thought he had fallen in love. Sweat had collected on her brow and neck, her breathing shaky.  But the look on her face; he was certain he had died and went to heaven.

He sang softly at first, before hardening his voice as he continued, “Well, swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o.  Swing a little more, a little more next to me.  Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o.  Swing a little more on the devil's dance floor!”

As the beat quickened,  the two of them danced across from one another, letting the flow of the rhythm take over.  They fluttered around the floor, separate but together in tune.  The man with the fiddle was ferociously assaulting the strings of his instrument.  As the pace fell again, Sean pulled away again to sing.  Moving his hands in front of him as though he was spinning a tall tale, he stamped his foot in session with the flute, encouraging the ale house to get louder and louder.  The stomping grew rougher and rough, and it felt as though the entire building was shaking.  At this rate, the neighboring borough could hear them.  It seemed as though the bar became more and more crowded, as people slipped in off the street to join the show.

“The apple now is sweet, oh, much sweeter than it ought to be.  'Nother l'il bite, I don't think here is much hope for me.  The sweat beneath her brow travels all the way an' headin' south,” Sean belted, nearly out of breath and completely out of tune.  He rushed to his partner's side, sliding a tight arm around her waist and pulling her to him.  When she latched to his arms for support, the man could feel his smile swelling.  “This bleedin' heart's cryin', 'cause there's no way out!”

“Well, swing a l'il more, l'il more o'er the merry-o.  Swing a little more, a little more next to me!”

People were slapping table tops, and hollering at the pair dancing in the center of the pub.  Lively was an understatement.  Sean had never felt a rush like this, despite his drunken squawking being a frequent event at this very ale house.  

“Swing a l'il more on the devil's dance floor!  Swing a l'il more on the devil's dance floor!  Swing a l'il more on the devil's dance floor!”

Drawing to the end of the song, the flute went in for a wild finish, the guitar getting even faster.  Sean didn't stop.  His fingers were tightly intertwined with his partner's as the two of them continued to swing and prance around the floor.  The creaking of the wood was easily overpowered by the music and the laughter.  Without a clear transition, the music faded, and the crowd around them started cheering and clapping.  Before long, another song started to break the air, accompanied by a old man's crooning.  Just as quickly as it had started, all attention faded from the two of them.  Sean's heart was racing, his breathing erratic.  He turned to give the young lady a wide grin, but was stopped upon feeling her lips press against his cheek hard.  

“Aye, there, lass, you got a good pair'a'legs on ya,” he laughed.  Heat had collected in the skin of his face, as it always did when he was drinking.  For a moment, he was a little embarrassed, realizing he was a sweaty, red, drunken mess.

“You got a good pair'a'pipes on you.  MacGuire, right?” she asked, giving him a glance before stepping toward the bar.  

Rushing behind her, Sean followed her like a puppy.  Smitten, he didn't want to lose sight of her in the crowded bar, for fear that he'd never see her again.  “That's me–  Sean MacGuire, dockworker by day, singer by night!”

The low-hanging lights over the bar lit up the features of her face, giving Sean a better look at her.  Under the dim glow as they danced, he had thought she was some heavenly creature– or in the very least a siren.  She had certainly hypnotized him in a way he had never experienced before.  She had fair skin, so white it looked as though it had never seen the sunlight.  Light freckles peppered her cheekbones, a few trailing down her neck and past the collar of her blouse.  Influenced by the booze and Sean's perverse thoughts, he could only imagine where else he would find those freckles.

Snapping from the gutter of his mind, he watched as she waved the bartender over.  Filling two mugs to the brim, the glass clashed against the counter before he took his coin and left.  The bar was busy, and he hadn't time to waste.  The woman rested her elbows on the surface and slid one mug to her new friend.  “I'd say your performance has earned ye a drink.”

“After me heart, aren't ye?  Ain't I supposed to buy you the drinks?” Sean chuckled again, finding his lips loose, with chuckles falling free. Just standing in her presence, she had an attitude about her that captivated him.  “You stop by fer my performances often, or this yer first time?”

“I've seen ye before,” she admitted, ignoring her mug to turn and look at him.  “Seems like ye had better time with a partner, yeah?”

“Always a gas to dance with a fine l'il beor,” he responded, deciding to lay it on thick.  She'd lingered this long, he could only assume there was something about him that kept her attention.  “S' a lass like you doin' in a place like this, anyway?”

“Drinkin' a few pints is all.  Didn't anticipate the dancin'.  I'll admit; I'm a bit scuttered.”

“I'm far passed scuttered,” Sean let out that signature, drunken chortle of his, surprised to see it didn't scare her off.  She leaned on her left elbow, barely pushing against his arm for stability.  “Aye, lass, what's yer name?”

“Sarah Donoghue,” she answered.  Suddenly, she shifted her tone to a harsh, almost comical, heavier accent.  “Ol' Sorcha O'Donoghue! When the drop's inside, the sense's outside!”

“Sorcha O'Donoghue?” Sean gasped, dropping an arm around her shoulder. This time, he donned his own stereotypical drawl.  “Aye, better to spend money like there's no tomorrow than spend tonight like there's no money!”

It was simple back then, in the summer of 1897.  Drinkin', dancin', foolin'– and he had somehow managed to capture the heart of a young Irish girl that didn't know no better.  Little Sarah had been seventeen, a few months shy of eighteen, when he'd met her.  She had a rough life coming, just as he had.  Without a mother to guide her, and an old drunk of a father, it was clear she was looking for some adventure, some kind of an escape.  And that escape was Sean MacGuire.  Late nights spent picking pockets, causing trouble in the alleys, and getting' right fluthered– what more was there to life?

[bobbystompy]

91 Quotes I Enjoyed From 2020

Below are my favorite quotes from 2020. Though most occurred throughout the year, some took place before but were encountered during.

1) “You don’t have to be new to make new.” - Rick Rubin

2) “He put the beat on and go to sleep then wake up with a verse.” - The Lox

3) “Every opinion is bad.” - Blink-155

4)

(via Twitter)

5) “At the start of every disaster movie, there’s a scientist being ignored.”

6) “Be brave enough to suck at something new.”

7) “Comedy is the only job you can have where you can use everything you know” - Robin Williams via Dave Chappelle

8) “What’s the worst swear word where you live?” - Josiah Hughes

9) “Cookies are a really great way to get everybody to like you for a short period of time” - YSAC

10) “The worst dancer at a wedding is the one who’s not dancing.” - John Mulaney

11) “I never saw the end of the tunnel. I only saw myself running out of one." - Kobe Bryant

12) "A good movie begins as you're walking out of the theater" - Ethan Hawke

13) “When I was young and starting in cinema, there was a saying that I carved deep into my heart which is, 'The most personal is the most creative.’ That quote was from our great Martin Scorsese.” - Bong Joon-ho

14) “Run to the rescue with love, and peace will follow” - River Phoenix via Joaquin Phoenix

15) “Thank you -- I will drink until next morning.” - Bong Joon-ho

16) “Men will bury their emotions for decades and then take it all out on children tubing while they drive the boat.” - @krauter_

17) “They help you with the dumb face stuff, but they don’t tell you how to fix it” - Adam (Nate’s friend), on having older sisters

18) “We all had our connections, but it’s not the details themselves that matter, it’s the feeling behind them. There are a million coming-of-age tales. Lady Bird’s secret sauce is how deeply its creator gave a shit. The older I get, the less I care about anything but the sense of a filmmaker’s personal connection to the material. It doesn’t matter what it’s about, what genre it is, or whether it’s genre at all. I only really care that it feels like something the filmmaker had to tell me, and that it was that filmmaker in particular who had to tell it. It has to answer the ‘why are you telling me this’ question, and not just why are you telling me, but why are you telling me.

Lady Bird is a movie that feels like only Greta Gerwig could’ve made. And it’s only because it’s so specific to her that it can be so meaningful to so many people.” - Vince Mancini

19) "I have cast some lonely votes, fought some lonely fights, mounted some lonely campaigns. But I do not feel lonely now.” - Bernie Sanders

20) “Ever hear a Beatles song you haven’t heard before?”

21) “Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you're allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It's like killing yourself, and then you're reborn. I guess I've lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.” - Charles Bukowski

22) “You shouldn’t have to hear a band to know if they’re good or not” - Josiah Hughes

23) “I was raised by OGs.  Some of you were raised by IG.  I understand.” - Ice-T

* * *

[Here is where I note the line of demarcation that was the COVID-19 pandemic hitting the US, pushed forward by Tom Hanks’ announcement, the NBA and NCAA shutting down, and, then, the nation itself.]

* * *

24) “There are decades where nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen.” - Vladimir Lenin

25) "Taken together, this is a massive failure in leadership that stems from a massive defect in character. Trump is such a habitual liar that he is incapable of being honest, even when being honest would serve his interests. He is so impulsive, shortsighted, and undisciplined that he is unable to plan or even think beyond the moment. He is such a divisive and polarizing figure that he long ago lost the ability to unite the nation under any circumstances and for any cause. And he is so narcissistic and unreflective that he is completely incapable of learning from his mistakes. The president’s disordered personality makes him as ill-equipped to deal with a crisis as any president has ever been. With few exceptions, what Trump has said is not just useless; it is downright injurious." - Peter Wehner

26) "Epidemics have a way of revealing underlying truths about the societies they impact." - Anne Applebaum

27) “A funny thing about quarantining is hearing your partner in full work mode for the first time. Like, I’m married to a ‘let’s circle back’ guy — who knew?” - Laura Norkin

28) 

(Jojo Rabbit)

29) “The world ends when you're dead. Until then, you got more punishment in store. - Deadwood: The Movie

30) “All bleeding stops eventually.” - Deadwood: The Movie

31) “Our Father, which art in heaven… / Let him fucking stay there” - Deadwood: The Movie

32) “It’s like a power outage, but we still have power” - Ryen Russillo, on the pandemic

33) “Whenever Sox baseball returns, it’ll be weird to not have Farmer on the call any more. The relationship between a fan and longtime announcer is always built in the little moments. One afternoon, he’s the soundtrack as you clean the garage. On another night, he’s your bookmark for the game as you stand in line for churros or walk down the ramps at Sox Park to try for better seats in the 100 level. A voice like Farmer’s becomes so familiar that you only really notice when it’s no longer there.” - Kevin Kaduk, on the passing of Ed Farmer

34) 

(via Twitter)

35) “In my songs, I try to look through someone else’s eyes, and I want to give the audience a feeling more than a message” - John Prine

36) “Observe everything. Admire nothing.” - Generation Kill

37) “Trump, by that definition, has always been a wartime president -- always willing to sacrifice people he doesn’t know to things he only sort of cares about” - David Roth

38) "Whenever they speak Michael Jordan, they should speak Scottie Pippen." - Michael Jordan

39) "Fiction is a bridge to the truth that journalism can't reach." - Hunter S. Thompson

40) “Airlines sending me “we’re in this together” emails. When my suitcase was 52 pounds I was on my own.” - Mike Dentale

41) “Sometimes you can be the worst source of your own story” - Ryen Russillo

42) “Family is not necessarily blood, but instead who you would bleed for.”

43)

(via Twitter)

44) "This is the deal that Jordan made, knowingly or unknowingly — that he would trade everything he had for everything he wanted. And then, when he won all those things, he found that he had nothing but that.” - David Roth

45) “I’m brand loyal, but the brand doesn’t matter” - Caitie Miller, on why she doesn’t like generic peanut butter

46) “NOBODY shitposts Gene Hackman!!” - Mark Dehlinger

47) “When a man concludes that any stick is good enough to beat his foe with—that is when he picks up a boomerang.” - G.K. Chesterton

48) “You can be appalled forever, but shocked only once.” - Jeff Weiss, on early Eminem

49) “Whether I’m pessimistic or optimistic, the fight’s the same” - David Simon

50) “Freedom can never be completely won, but it can be lost.” - Bernard Simon

51) “Racism in America is like dust in the air. It seems invisible — even if you’re choking on it — until you let the sun in. Then you see it’s everywhere. As long as we keep shining that light, we have a chance of cleaning it wherever it lands.” -Kareem Abdul Jabbar

52) “In a racist society, it is not enough to be non-racist -- we must be anti-racist.” - Angela Davis

53) “Start as close to the end as possible” - Kurt Vonnegut, on creative writing

54) “You can’t stay woke all the time — that’s insomnia.” - Dr. Cornel West

55) “No, I get it. I’ve dated a lot of Geminis.”

56) “The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.” - John Krakauer, Into The Wild (via Tyler Keller)

57) "I couldn't show them my For You because it's pretty much just lesbian stuff and depression memes" - Maggie Loesch, on showing TikTok to her coworkers

58) "It's 1 a.m. in Slovakia and I've already had one bottle of wine and I don't know how long this press conference will go, so good luck to me." - Marian Hossa, following his NHL Hall of Fame announcement

59) “All I want in life is to go on an Anguilla group trip” - Mandy Gilkes

60) “You miss old friends when you don’t see them, but you miss them more when you do.” - Chuck Klosterman

61) “The only way to appreciate the present is to pretend it’s already the past.” - Chuck Klosterman

62) Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh, never mind You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth Until they've faded, but trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back At photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now How much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked

(”Everybody's Free [To Wear Sunscreen]”)

Second time that essay’s been quoted on this list.

64) "I mean, it's just human nature to suck up to the people above you, crap on those beneath you, and undercut your equals” - Brian, Family Guy

65) “You never quit a job. You quit a manager.” - Brian Bedford

66) “All the pictures in my house are of people I’m not friends with” - Tracy Cunningham

67) “In order to leave something behind, you have to leave.” - Dr. Herman, Grey’s Anatomy

68) 

(via Twitter)

69) “You can obsess about death if you don’t have to obsess about dying.” - Brendan Kelly via “White Noise”

70) “If it’s right to do, it’s wrong to wait.” - Andy, doorman 

71)

72) “When I'm sometimes asked when will there be enough [women on the Supreme Court] and I say, 'When there are nine,' people are shocked. But there'd been nine men, and nobody's ever raised a question about that.” - Ruth Bader Ginsburg

73) "America is mostly people who’ve never left their state saying we have the best country in the world." - Billy Wayne Davis

74) “A writer is someone who knows at least 80% of their writing sucks.” - Gabe Hudson

75) 

(via Twitter)

76) “You’re dead twice” - Brendan Kelly

77) “Perfect is the enemy of good” - Voltaire (via Zach Lowe)

78) “I don’t want to be a savior, I want to be a mirror.” - Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

79) “I get bad Twitter FOMO but not real life FOMO. That just goes to show I need to get off the Internet.” - Josh Thomas

80) “Is there anything you love in life that you engage with seriously that you don't also engage with humor?" - Sam Sutherland, on his relationship with Blink-182

81) “My favorite genre of music is my friends' bands" - Josiah Hughes

82) “Let’s fall in love like both our parents aren’t divorced.”

83) “Seabiscuit may be the only earthling that was on both sides of the stamp.” - Brendan Kelly

84) “There’s no shame in coming in second, except in, like, wars.” - Family Guy

85) “I feel like I experience writer’s block 100% of the time, and when I do write, I have impostor syndrome.” - Phoebe Bridgers

86) “We teach based on what we most need to learn.” - psychologist on Grey’s Anatomy

87) “Having too many choices is the leading cause of stress” - Grey’s Anatomy

88) “I think we've all gravely underestimated the extent to which this year has changed all of us, permanently” - Kelli Maria Korducki

89) 

(via Twitter)

90) “I wonder if people understand why they don’t have polio” - Sandra E. Garcia

91) “Ending songs is terrible, so let’s keep singing” - Dave Hernandez