#it’s like the melancholy is permanently a part of him

[armorangels]

late night sad todd hours because even in the scenes where todd’s confidence starts to blossom, he still has the most melancholic expressions :-)

[sugarcoated-lame]

Always A Bridesmaid | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI!

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

Synopsis: Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster?

WC: 10.5k (she’s a long one folks)

Warnings: a teeny bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smut, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected pinv, slight overstimulation, age gap (not really specified but reader is around 23-24 yrs old, jake is in his early 30s), jake being too damn charming for his own good, rooster being a very overprotective big brother, jake being a menace, and natasha being the best sister-in-law, for the sake of this story we’re gonna pretend that Goose died a few years later than what is canon to explain how Bradley has a sister that’s 10+ years younger than him lol

a/n: it’s been like two months since I initially started writing this, so I’m so happy to finally get it out! (:

read part two here

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

*

Today was a big day, and you wish you could say you were more excited about it. It’s not every day that your big brother gets married to the love of his life. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Natasha “Phoenix” Trace had finally said “I do” and you were ecstatic for your favorite female pilot to officially become a part of the family. 

But you were also recently single, having been broken up with by the boyfriend you’d been with throughout most of college and the following two years since you’d graduated.

Things hadn’t ended on bad terms, the two of you just weren’t in love anymore. What worked in college just wasn’t working anymore, and you’d spent the last few months of your relationship denying to yourself the fact that you were unhappy. 

You’re pretty sure now that the both of you had known for a while you weren’t right for each other, but you had been scared to end it–terrified at the notion of starting over. But, the relationship had run its course and, ultimately, he was the one to end things. 

That was three weeks ago. You’d come to terms with the break-up, knowing it was what’s best for you. But that didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. It didn’t mean you weren’t sad, or that you were ready to be subjected to all the happiness and celebration that goes into a wedding.

You’re granted a brief reprieve from your melancholy thoughts when your new sister-in-law sneaks up and taps you on the shoulder. “Hey… You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Are you okay?” 

Natasha asks the question with a sheepish grin. You can tell she’s trying to seem nonchalant, but you can hear the underlying concern in her voice. 

Bradley and Natasha had been together five years now, engaged for one, and you could clearly see from the way that he smiled at her and the permanent glimmer in his eyes, that your brother was truly happy. He and Phoenix had become fast friends during their time together at Top Gun, and it eventually evolved into something more.

When Bradley brought Natasha home to meet you at Thanksgiving during your sophomore year of college, you knew even then that she would be the girl he was one day going to marry. Best friends turned lovers. You could only dream you’d find that for yourself someday.

You and Natasha had quickly become close as well. Bradley and Uncle Mav were the only family you had and it was nice to have another person–especially a badass woman like Natasha, in your corner. 

The two of you got on like a house on fire, and Natasha was always there to give her love and support. She was like the big sister you never had, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ganging up on your brother and teasing him together.

As Natasha’s maid of honor, you’d spent the morning with her and the other bridesmaids, helping the blushing bride get ready for her big day. In a fancy suite getting all dolled up while drinking mimosas, having your hair and makeup done before changing into matching bridesmaid dresses of a silky satin—cowl neckline and spaghetti straps, in a soft lavender shade. Helping Natasha into her beautiful, intricately lacy, white wedding gown.

The wedding ceremony was absolutely beautiful and had gone off without a hitch. Bradley had tears in his eyes as Natasha walked down the aisle to the Wedding March, matching smiles on their faces as they joined hands at the altar. 

You even shed a tear yourself as the couple exchanged their vows, and before you knew it, Bradley was pulling Natasha in for a loving kiss and they were declared husband and wife.

Then, onto the reception, you’d watched with a slightly sad smile as Bradley and Natasha shared their first dance as husband and wife. You were so happy for the two of them, truly, but it was hard to get into the headspace for celebrating. Seeing two of your favorite people so in love when you’d just been dumped. When your own love life was at a standstill and you were left feeling lost and lonely.

You’d been too preoccupied in your thoughts to notice the first dance had come to an end before Nat came to talk to you. You felt guilty at the fact that she was spending her time worrying about you when she should be enjoying her big day. You’re lucky to call Natasha your sister.

So, you force your most convincing smile onto your face and nod your head, telling her that you’re just fine.

“Just tired from the long day, but I’m having a great time. I’m good, I promise!” You weren’t sure if she believed you, but luckily Natasha was pulled away by one of her aunts gushing over how beautiful she looked and offering her congratulations, before she could protest.

It’s especially hard to enjoy a wedding reception when you’re sat at a table alone, watching as everyone else is having a good time, dancing along to the music being played by the DJ. 

Once the first dance was through, the rest of the guests were welcomed to join the happy couple on the dancefloor. You knew your brother had plenty of cute pilot friends, and you also knew–thanks to Natasha–that some of them were single. So, you were hoping that one of them might ask you to dance.

You may have also been hopeful for the possibility of getting laid tonight. You were newly single but even then, it’d been months since you and your ex last had sex. You were sad and lonely and thought, what better way to get back out there and help yourself feel better than hooking up with one of said cute pilots? 

Your plan, however, seemed futile because none of the guys would even talk to you. In fact, since Bradley had introduced you to them after the ceremony earlier in the day, his fellow pilots could hardly look you in the eye.

“Guys, this is my little sister.” With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your brother had rattled off each of the naval aviators’ names and callsigns, and told his friends your name. They were all nice enough, each politely shaking your hand and making small talk, a few of them making jokes at your big brother’s expense.

But you could sense there was an awkwardness there, almost as if the members of the Dagger squad were afraid of you. You couldn’t understand why, but you could tell they were hesitant to keep the conversation going with you.

Initially, you brushed it off. However, as the day went on, whenever you’d find yourself alone in conversation with one of the Top Gun pilots, they each kept the interactions very short and sweet, acting as though they couldn’t get away from you fast enough. Leaving you feeling unsure of yourself and wondering what you could have possibly done to have them all so blatantly avoiding you. 

So, after sharing a dance with your dear Uncle Mav and relinquishing him back into the awaiting arms of Penny, you spend the next half hour moping at the table on your own. Absent-mindedly swirling the straw around in your drink, chin resting in your other hand as you watch the festivities going on around you. 

And that’s how Jake finds you.

You were adorable. With your sparkling eyes and your hair pinned up into some intricate up-do that Jake wanted to see undone, a few pieces flowing down and framing your face. The hint of cleavage Jake could see beneath the cowl neckline of that lavender dress that hugged your curves so well as you leaned forward against the table, a slight pout on your lips as you observed everyone having fun on the dancefloor.

Jake could tell that you weren’t having a good time and he knew exactly why. 

Little did you know that earlier that morning while Bradley and his groomsmen were getting ready in a suite separate from the girls, your brother had had a “talk” with all the guys.

Debriefing about last night’s rehearsal dinner, Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy–all of the single groomsmen–had been discussing a few of Natasha’s bridesmaids that they thought were cute. Especially the maid of honor. 

Rooster’s ears had been ringing when he heard them describe you to a T, and Jake could practically see smoke coming out of them as he turned toward his friends, always the overprotective big brother ready to shut them down.

“The maid of honor,” all of the groomsmen turned to look at the mustached groom as he began to speak.

“Is my little sister. And she’s off limits.” At his words and the stern, serious tone of Bradley’s voice, Jake and the others collectively shut up, matching caught-out and shocked expressions on each of their faces.

“I mean it, guys, I don’t wanna see any of you hitting on her. I love you all like my brothers, but I’m not afraid to kick someone’s ass if I see you trying it on with my sister.”

The guys all knew that Rooster wasn’t bluffing. With rushed apologies and confirmations that they’d leave you alone, the tension left the room as they all laughed it off and went about their business getting ready for the ceremony. 

With Bradley’s warning in mind, the Dagger squad had spent the rest of the day being nice—but not too nice—whenever they spoke to you, and tried to keep their interactions with you to a minimum, so as not to face your older brother’s wrath.

They all knew that Bradley could be a bit hotheaded. Even Bob, who is very happily married, found himself a little afraid to spend too much time conversing with you.

Jake was ready to follow the rules too, it was Bradshaw’s wedding after all. He could hold off on pissing off his best frenemy for one night. At least that was the case, until the reception. 

When he saw you sitting all alone, all gorgeous and sulking, Jake knew right then that he had to go talk to you. He knew he was the only one stupid enough—or brave enough, if you ask him—to go against your brother’s wishes, and who was Jake if he wasn’t stirring the pot?

Was it so wrong for him to help a pretty lady have a good time? And you were beautiful, strikingly so, so Jake wouldn’t mind if he got a little something out of it too. 

Jake isn’t scared of your brother. Besides, Rooster is far too busy dancing with Phoenix, the newlywed couple far too preoccupied with making heart-eyes at each other to notice him making his way over to you.

Your eyes widen with intrigue as the tall, blonde pilot—Jake, or Hangman as he’d been introduced to you—sidles over to where you’re seated. 

God, was he handsome. You sit up a little straighter as he plonks himself down in the chair next to you, a devilish smirk on his lips as he turns toward you. 

“What is a pretty little thing like you doing sitting here all on her lonesome?” He inquires, a slight Southern drawl to his voice. Texan, maybe?

“Um… drinking?” Your answer is short, but you’re a bit caught off guard and still annoyed by the fact that all of your attempts at socializing tonight with anyone outside of the few members of your family and Phoenix, had failed. 

But now, here was Hangman, going out of his way to talk to you and looking you straight in your eyes. His green gaze intense and leaving you a bit flustered. 

Jake glances down to where you’re still toying with the straw in your near-empty glass. With that playful smirk still present on his face, he goes to speak again.

“Well, darlin’, I cannot in good conscience let you drink alone. What are you drinking and how ‘bout I buy you another one?” His question makes you scoff. 

“Tequila Sunrise, and it’s an open bar, so… no, you can’t buy me a drink.” You roll your eyes at the almost too handsome pilot. 

Oh. Pretty and feisty. Jake was going to have a hard time staying away from you.

“Well then, how about I acquire you another one, and because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even join you?” Jake winks at you and stands, striding towards the bar before you could even answer his question. 

Your brother and Natasha had mentioned Hangman to you a handful times over the years, and he was just as cocky and self-assured as they always said. But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you don’t find it kind of charming, or that you aren’t extremely attracted to him.

Jake returns a couple minutes later, a Tequila Sunrise in one hand and a glass of what looked to be whiskey in the other. He places your drink down in front of you and slides back into the chair next to yours, albeit a few inches closer this time.

“You know, you look pretty miserable over here. Though, I guess I would be too if I had to grow up with Rooster as my brother.” That draws a genuine laugh out of you.

“There she is!” His exclamation makes you giggle, a slight blush taking over your cheeks. Jake loves the sight of your smile. The sound of your laugh. He decides that he wants to hear that sound over and over again.

“He’s not so bad.” You refute through your laughter.

“I just don’t really know many people here, and I kind of get the feeling my brother and Nat’s friends don’t like me very much. I’m not sure why…” You trail off and look down at your lap, shy all of a sudden. Jake has to fight very hard to not smile at how adorable your furrowed brows and pouted lips are.

“You’re the first person here to actually talk to me for more than two seconds.” You let out a nervous laugh and start sipping your new drink.

Jake feels bad that your dumbass brother’s plan to keep the guys away from you is the reason you’re feeling so down, without you even knowing. And no matter how cute you may look, Jake doesn’t like seeing you sad. He’s going to rectify that.

“Well darlin’, now that I’m here, you don’t need to talk to anyone else.” Jake’s smile is still smug, but sincere, and you can’t help but grin back at him. You shake your head and giggle at the cocky pilot, thinking to yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad if he were the only person you had to talk to for the rest of the night.

“Now, how about we finish these drinks and then we head out onto the dancefloor?” To that, you agree, and the two of you sit sipping your drinks and talking for a little while. Getting better acquainted. Jake is fun and very charming, and you love how easily he’s able to make you laugh.

When Jake notices that you’re just about done with your tequila sunrise, he quickly shoots back the rest of his whiskey, ready to get you onto the dancefloor. He stands and you accept the hand he’s extended toward you, his large hand engulfing your smaller one and letting him lead you into the crowd of people. 

Standing in front of him now, you only just notice how good Jake looks in his suit. It’s a simple black suit, white undershirt and black tie, like all the groomsmen wore. But the way it fits his body, the way the jacket sleeves are ever-so-slightly too tight around his big arms, and the way you could tell he was extremely toned even under layers of clothing, made you dizzy.

As you make it onto the floor, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Everywhere’ begins to play through the speakers. Jake pulls you in close to him by your joined hands and spins you around under his arm. The two of you laugh, both a little tipsy. 

You spend the duration of the song dancing together like children without a care in the world. Not much rhythm to it or any real dance moves, mostly just jumping around and singing along to the lyrics, Jake twirling you around a good number of times. You’re sure that the two of you look like idiots, but it’s the most fun you’ve had all night.

You dance together to a couple more upbeat songs, and Jake can’t help but admire you. He finds it incredibly sexy how carefree you seem in this moment.

As another classic rock song comes to an end and a slower song takes its place, Jake pulls you in again. This time by the waist, until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. The warmth of his hands setting your skin alight through the thin, satiny fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress. 

Your own hands slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his broad shoulders. You look up at him with those bright, beautiful eyes and a shy smile, and Jake finds himself entranced. 

God, he wants to kiss you.  

You rest your head on his chest as he begins to sway you softly along to the music. As if Jake can feel eyes burning into the side of his face, he turns the two of you slightly, only to find Rooster glaring at him as he stands across the dancefloor, slow dancing with Phoenix.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Bradley quietly asks, mostly to himself, but the question catches his wife’s attention. 

“What is who doing?” Natasha queries with a laugh as she turns to look at where Bradley’s hard gaze is pointed.

“Aw, maybe Bagman does have a heart.” Her lips form into an exaggerated pout as she watches Jake and you sway from side to side as he holds you in his arms, your head leaning on his chest. Bradley looks down at her with a bewildered look on his face.

“No, that is most definitely not AW, and no he doesn’t!” He grouches with a sigh. Natasha gives him a questioning glance, waiting expectantly for whatever the hell it is she’s missing right now.

“I told those idiots to stay away from her.” Bradley mutters dejectedly.

“What are you talking about, told who to stay away from who?” Natasha narrows her eyes at her husband.

“Jake and the rest of the squad. I overheard them talking about how hot they thought my sister was, and I told them to leave her alone.” Bradley whines.

Natasha stays silent for a few moments, processing this information and looking up at her husband with a stunned expression.

“Oh, honey…” She can’t help but laugh. Now she understands why you’d spent much of the evening sulking.

“What?!” Bradley practically shrieks. “She’s my baby sister, I just wanna protect her!”

At that, Natasha cracks a smile. She’s always admired how much Rooster loves his little sister and how, with your parents gone, he always felt it was his responsibility to take care of you. 

“Bradley, I love you, but you really are an idiot sometimes.” Natasha grins, shaking her head at her husband. The look he gives her is dumbfounded and one of slight offense.

“Babe, I get that you want to protect your sister, but she’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult and you have to let her make her own choices and her own mistakes. Even if one of those mistakes is Bagman.” Natasha scrunches her nose playfully and Bradley gives her a deadpan look. 

“You know she’d be pissed if she found out that you did that.” Natasha smirks, thinking back on a few of the silly sibling spats that she’s had to mediate over the last few years since she’s been with Bradley—most of them due entirely to his overprotective tendencies and your desire to escape them. 

“Come on, Roo, you know I’m right.” Bradley rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs, wrapping his arms around his bride. 

“Yeah, you always are. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He places a kiss on her forehead, and murmurs against her skin. “But if he hurts her, I’ll kill him.” 

Bradley glares in Jake’s direction once again.

Jake can also feel the eyes of the other Top Gun pilots on the two of you. They’ve all just witnessed the interaction and look between him and Rooster, some looking on in amusement, others in fear for Jake's safety.

Jake has to bite back a laugh, leaning his head down on top of yours to hide the cheeky smile that plays on his lips. The two of you slow dance a little while longer, Jake’s hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and sending your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.

Jake decides he’d like a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. His hands leave your torso, moving to rest on your arms, giving them a light squeeze to gain your attention. The hazy, content look on your pretty face when you look up at him only strengthens his desire to be alone with you. Fuck, he wants you.

“Come with me?” Jake leans down to whisper into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. When he pulls back, you look up to see his emerald eyes boring into you, and you simply nod.

You aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re pretty certain you’d follow him anywhere. He grabs your hand and spares a last glance at your still glaring brother, smirking as he leads you to the exit of the ballroom. 

Before you can make it past the threshold though, Jake comes to an abrupt stop and lets go of your hand.

“One second.” He quickly breathes out, leaving you standing by the door as he darts back over the bar.

You’re confused for a moment, but you can’t help but giggle to yourself as you watch him look around to make sure no one is watching before he reaches behind the bar, grabbing an unopened bottle of champagne. 

He sprints back over to you, once again taking your hand in his free one and speeding out into the hallway, pulling you along with him. You’re unable to keep from laughing, near breathless as you try to keep up with Jake’s long strides in your high heels.

When he finds a dark, empty room towards the back of the venue hall, Jake pulls you inside with him and closes the door. Before you know it, your back is pressed against it, hitting the hard wood with a thud as Jake crashes his lips against yours, kissing you breathless.

Catching your plush bottom lip between both of his, one of his hands finds your waist in the dark, the other still holding onto the neck of the champagne bottle. You kiss him back with just as much fervor, reaching a hand up into Jake’s blonde hair and tugging lightly, pulling a soft groan from him. 

The two of you move in sync, lips pressing together at an increasing speed and intensity until your lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. Jake pulls back for some air and both of your chests are heaving, light pants escaping your lips as you stare at each other in the dark of the room.

When you look down and catch a glimpse of the bottle still in Jake’s grasp, you let out a breathless chuckle.

“You forgot the glasses.” 

He follows your gaze and laughs along with you, though it comes out as more of a pant.

“Shit, yeah. Maybe we can find some in here, if I can just find a light…” Jake trails off, his body leaving your personal space and pulling the warmth of him along with it. You’re left standing by the door, feeling cold and already missing his presence and his weight against you as he goes off in search of the lights. 

It’s a quick search, after about only 30 seconds, Jake finds a lamp on a table in the corner of the room. He switches it on, casting the room in a soft, dim golden light.

No longer bathed in darkness, you now see that the room you ended up in is another suite like the ones the bridal party had used to get ready that morning. A couple of fancy olive green velvet couches spread throughout the space, a few vanity mirrors along the far wall, a door leading to a bathroom at the back. 

You take a seat on one of the lavish couches and remove your heels, feet aching a bit after the long day. You pull your legs up onto the couch as Jake goes on the hunt for champagne glasses. After a brief and unsuccessful search, Jake joins you on the couch.

“No luck.” His playful pout makes you giggle as he plops down onto the cushion next to you. 

“Fuck it!” Jake exclaims as he turns the champagne bottle away from you to open it, a small gasp escaping your lips as he sends the cork flying somewhere across the room. 

He hands the bottle over to you with a grin.

“Ladies first.” And there’s that wink again. As you take a swig from the bottle, Jake pulls your feet up into his lap, and you nearly choke on the fizzy liquid in surprise when his fingers begin to massage your calves. Once the initial shock wears off, you can’t stop the contented sigh that escapes your lips at the feeling. 

When you’ve taken a few sips, you hand the bottle back over to Jake, fingers brushing as he takes it from your grasp. His eyes remain on your face as he takes a big swig of the champagne and you can feel a blush beginning to heat up your face. 

Setting the bottle down on the floor, Jake tugs your legs closer to him again, this time pulling until you’re nearly sitting in his lap and drawing a little yelp from you. Your face is inches away from his and in the dim lamplight you can see that his eyes are blown wide, mostly black with only a hint of that pretty green visible.

Jake reaches a hand toward the back of your neck, gently running his fingers between your shoulder blades and down your upper back, bare due to the low backing of your dress. Grazing your skin with a featherlight touch before curling his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulling you in to kiss him again. 

The taste of champagne is prevalent as Jake attaches his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your waist to help guide you fully onto his lap. Your own hands slide along his chest over the soft fabric of his suit jacket and up to his broad shoulders, fingers gripping lightly at the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips move softly against his, finding a rhythm and allowing yourself to get lost in it.

Jake’s hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts through your dress as he deepens the kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer as he nips at your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet whine from you. His tongue tracks along the seam of your lips and you’re quick to part them for him, allowing his tongue to work softly against yours.

You and Jake relish in the taste of one another mixed with the sweetness of the bubbly alcohol, your movements becoming more fervent. Your head grows dizzy as Jake groans into your mouth when your fingers gently tug at the hair at his nape.

Jake feels his cock twitch in his pants when he pulls away and sees your hazy expression, all hooded lids and kiss-swollen lips. He presses a trail of sweet kisses to your jaw and chin, working his way down to your neck. His nose grazes the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of your perfume.

Your head tilts back on a quiet moan, granting Jake more access as his mouth begins to work at the side of your neck. Sucking and biting at the soft skin, teeth sure enough to leave a mark. With your hands still in his hair, you pull Jake back up to your lips, kissing him ardently as your hips involuntarily rut against the growing bulge in his trousers.

You both moan at the friction as Jake’s hand moves to cup your cheek, fingers tangling in your intricately styled hair. As his tongue glides against yours, you feel him begin to pull at the pins, loosening your hair from its confines until it flows freely around your shoulders. He pulls back from the kiss to look at you with a look that screams pure lust.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Jake breathes as he runs a hand through your silky locks. Since he first laid eyes on you, he’d wondered how you’d look with your hair all messy and free, your perfect little up-do unraveled. And fuck, does he like what he sees.

With a newfound sense of need, you reattach your lips to Jake’s, sliding your tongue into his mouth as your hands begin to push the suit jacket off of his shoulders. He shrugs it the rest of the way off, letting out a whispered ‘fuck’ as your lips trail down his sharp jawline to his neck as your nimble fingers begin to work on untying his tie, and straight to unbuttoning his dress shirt after that.

When his upper half is free of clothes, you tease soft, barely-there kisses along Jake’s shoulders and the hard plains of his chest. Eager to touch more of your skin, Jake’s hands make their way down to your thighs, changing positions to pull you underneath him on the velvet couch, your legs wrapped around his hips. He sits up and runs an index finger lightly under the thin strap of your dress.

“Can I?” You nod fervently in response to his question and Jake gently pushes the straps off of your shoulders.

You sit up and Jake pecks your lips, his hands moving behind you to unzip the top of your dress. The soft satin falls down around your torso, revealing a strapless lacy bra that matches the pastel purple of your dress. His hands reach again behind your back, making quick work of unclasping your bra to reveal your perfect, supple breasts.

Jake takes a moment to admire the beautiful picture that’s in front of him before he leans down to kiss at your chest. His lips work softly at the swell of your breast, thumb and index finger coming to pinch at one nipple while his mouth engulfs the other. The moan it pulls from you is music to Jake’s ears.

Your fingers tangle in his hair once again as his tongue swirls your nipple, quiet whimpers escaping you as he kisses and suckles at the skin. His mouth travels to your other breast, leaving a trail of kisses along the way before sucking the bud between his lips, tongue working softly at it until it forms a hardened peak.

Satisfied with his work, Jake grazes his teeth against your nipple, evoking a breathy gasp from you and a tug on his hair as he nips at the sensitive bud before releasing it. You feel a gush of arousal at your core as his mouth starts to trail lower down your torso. Kissing softly at your sternum, your ribcage, and just above your navel.

Goosebumps form along your skin as Jake lowers himself down on the couch, strong hands gliding up the sides of your thighs. Pushing the silky fabric of your dress along with them until it’s bunched up at the middle of your torso, revealing pretty, sheer lace panties that you’re sure are probably soaked through.

Jake presses a kiss to your hip bone, looking up at you with wild eyes awaiting your permission. You swallow hard, nodding your head frantically. You need him to touch you before you go insane.

“Please, Jake,” You hardly recognize the breathless, whiny voice that comes out of your mouth. “Need you.”

Jake runs a finger along your slit over the damp fabric of your panties, your desperate, breathy cries painting a smirk on his lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He teasingly bumps his finger into your clit just to hear you whine before his fingers grip onto your waistband, pulling the lacy fabric torturously slow down your thighs. He sits back on his knees, pressing a kiss to your knee as he helps get your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

When they fall to the floor, Jake repositions himself on the couch between your thighs, lifting one of them over his shoulder. His lips make a trail up the inside of your thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin and enjoying the way your breath catches as he inches closer to where you need him most, before ultimately moving back and starting again on the other thigh. Your fingers tug at his roots, chest breathless and heaving as you wait for Jake to just do something.

You moan out loudly in surprise as your wish is granted, Jake’s tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds. Your fingers tighten in his hair when he presses a kiss to your clit. He pulls back for a moment and just stares at your cunt, pretty and glistening just for him. 

You’d be embarrassed at the attention if it weren’t for the look of complete awe on his gorgeous face as he gazes at your core. His tongue glides through your folds again, collecting your arousal.

“Mm, so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just like you.” And with that, Jake sucks your clit between his lips, drawing a loud cry from your lips as he applies a firm pressure. He alternates between suckling the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting the wetness that continues to flow at his ministrations.

As his lips wrap around your clit once more, you feel one of Jake’s fingers begin to tease at your entrance. Gathering the wetness there before the digit enters you, he lets out a low groan as you clench around it. He works his finger in and out, adding in a second to help stretch you out and get you ready for his cock.

Jake can hear your soft whimpers and heavy breathing, he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers even tighter as he prods at that spongy spot inside of you and he knows that you’re close.

“Gonna come for me, Sweets? You gonna come all over my tongue?” Jake implores with a teasing smirk before he dives back in, tongue replacing his fingers and licking into you.

“Fuck, please, Ja- OHH!” Your plea is cut short as his fingers pinch at your clit once more. Rubbing tight circles in time with his tongue that’s fucking in and out your hole. Jake’s fingers quicken their pace, pressing firmly against your sensitive bud while he devours you, and you fall over the edge with a sharp cry that borders on being a scream.

“So fucking good for me.” Jake mutters against your center, his tongue lapping up your release while his fingers still gently swirl your clit and work you through your orgasm. He licks up every bit of your sweetness, rutting his hips against the velvety couch cushion to gain some friction on his still-clothed cock that strains under the fabric of his pants, as he watches you writhe under his tongue, hands tugging at his roots hard as your loud cries turn into soft whimpers.

Jake only lets up when your shaky hand tries to push his head away from your center, the pleasure becoming too much. Leaving one final kiss to your inner thigh, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening with your release.

You tug at Jake’s hair again, guiding his head back up to be level with yours. You pull him into a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands travel down to unbuckle Jake’s belt and open the button of his trousers, one hand dipping into the waistband to cup him over his boxers. 

Jake grunts above you as you palm at his hard length, his own hands reaching down to help you remove his pants.

Only able to get them about halfway down his legs from his position hovering over you, Jake pulls back and stands from the couch. He pulls his dress pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his cock long and hard, the tip red and dripping with precum.

Before he can return to his previous position kneeling above you, you too stand up, pushing Jake back onto the couch in a seated position.

“Wha- where ya goin’, darling?” Jake questions you with a breathless chuckle, a bit surprised by the moment of dominance from you. As you drop to your knees in front of him though, he starts to get the hint.

“Just wanna return the favor.” You say it sweetly, giving him your best doe eyes. Jake’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, caressing the skin softly and letting out a desperate groan as you position yourself between his thick thighs.

You trail your nails along the skin of his thighs, leaving light pink marks in your wake as you tease your way to the apex of his thighs. When you finally wrap your hand around him, you feel Jake’s cock twitch in your grasp and look up at him with a sweet smile. 

Minx. Jake swears he could cum right then and there.

Your hand rubs along the base of Jake’s cock and up to his tip, collecting the precum dribbling from his slit and dragging it down his length to aid in your movements. Your grip tightens around him just slightly, and you enjoy the desperate sound he makes as you lean down to place a kiss to his weeping tip.

Hand still cupping your cheek, Jake’s fingers move into your hair as you kitten lick at his tip before taking him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the ridge of his head, sucking softly and moving further down onto his length. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, eagerly sucking his shaft and using your hand to rub what you can’t fit.

Your fingers move to grip one of Jake’s strong thighs as you take him as far down your throat as you possibly can, blinking up at him with wide doe eyes. Your cheeks suction around his length and Jake chokes on a loud moan, his fingers tightening in your hair when his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck.” He gently pulls you off of him with a groan, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen pink lips to the head of his cock. Jake knew he was getting close and he didn’t want to finish before feeling your sweet cunt wrapped around him.

“Need to be inside you, darlin’.” Jake practically begs as he pulls you up to your feet. He finishes unzipping your dress that’s still hanging down around your middle the rest of the way, watching the fabric pool around your feet before guiding you to sit atop his thighs. Fully naked and secure in his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lead Jake into another fiery kiss.

“Need you, Jake.” You breathe against his lips, noses rubbing together as you nod your head against him. 

You grind your hips down against his in an effort to convey your need. Jake’s hand reaches down to grip his cock, running it along your soaked folds and bumping your clit with his tip, teasing you both as you moan against each other’s lips.

“Shit… I don’t have a condom.” Jake realizes, voice sounding defeated as he looks down and  watches the head of his cock tease at your clit once more.

“Fuck.” The word comes out of your mouth as a whine. 

Fuck was right. All that hoping and planning to get lucky tonight, and you hadn’t had the forethought to bring protection? Whoops.

Lucky for you, you’d been on the pill for a couple of years now, having started taking it when you were with your ex. You place a gentle kiss to Jake’s cheek before pulling back to look in his eyes as you speak.

“I’m on the pill. And I haven’t been with anyone in a while, so… I’m good.” You chuckle sheepishly, brows furrowing slightly as you wait for Jake’s response.

Jake nods his head eagerly. “Fuck-yeah, I’m all good too! If you’re sure…” he wants to be sure that you’re comfortable.

He can’t help but grin as you nod your head just as eagerly, but that grin is quickly wiped off Jake’s face.

Your brother can never find out about this… Rooster would actually kill him. It’s bad enough that he’s sleeping with Bradley’s little sister on his wedding day, let alone without protection.

It’s an afterthought that Jake realizes he must’ve accidentally spoken aloud, as the giggles that erupt from you in response to the words spoken under his breath hit his ears.

“Yes.” You plant a kiss on his jaw. “I’m sure, Jake.” Another kiss. “Need you.” Your lips move to peck his hungrily.

His thoughts are immediately pulled away from Rooster and Jake couldn’t be happier. Not only does he get to be inside of you, but he gets to feel you wrapped around him with no barrier in between. 

Your blatant need for him only inflates Jake’s ego, and makes him impossibly harder. His hand cups the side of your neck, pressing his lips firmly to yours one more time before leaning back to look at you with a smug smirk.

“Go ahead. Take it, baby.” Jake drawls as he leans back, arms stretched along the back of the couch, his words have you clenching around nothing.

At his request, you lift your hips slightly, taking Jake’s hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance. He watches in awe as you sink down around his length slowly, the both of you hissing simultaneously. You at the stretch, and him the tightness of your walls enveloping him. 

Your hands hold onto Jake’s shoulders for support as you take him, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside of you. You both let out quiet curses at the feeling. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so full, but your slickness makes for easy movement once you get used to the stretch.

You lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is still inside of you, before slowly sinking back down and grinding your hips against his.

“Fuck. Feel so good, darlin.” Jake groans as your muscles clench around him and you let out a quiet whimper in response.

You bury your face in the crook of Jake’s neck as you begin to ride him, moving up and down his length as your hips work to find a rhythm. Jake groans as you begin to pick up the pace, his hands moving to your hips to help guide your movements.

When you’ve found a good rhythm, Jake plants his feet firmly on the floor beneath him and begins to thrust up into you. Pulling your hips firmly against his with every thrust, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cry out in ecstasy.

The soft whimpers you let out against the skin of his neck are driving Jake’s movements, the sweet, open-mouthed kisses littered against the column of his throat spurring him on. He grunts as your walls tighten around him in a vice-like grip on a particularly hard thrust. 

Jake can tell you’re getting tired as your thighs begin to tremble over his, hips stuttering and losing their tempo as you rise and sink yourself down on his cock.

His hands wrap around your thighs, lifting you off of him and you whine in protest at the loss of the fullness of him. With you still hovering over his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, Jake easily flips the two of you over, gently placing you so that you’re lying back on the velvety couch. He hovers over you, knees digging into the cushions and he leans down to attach his lips to yours as he lines up with your entrance again.

You moan into the kiss as Jake bottoms out inside of you, your velvety walls welcoming him in with ease. Jake lifts one of your thighs around his hips, your leg going to wrap around his back automatically as he plows into you, the head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you again and it has you seeing stars.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, Jake’s soft grunts and your blissful cries mingling together. Skin slapping against skin as Jake drives into you, the sound of your growing wetness as his cock moves in and out at a rapid pace. Jake leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth as he fucks you, nipping lightly at the skin.

“Jake…fuck! Please…” You’re babbling almost incoherently, the fucked-out look on your face sending Jake into a frenzy.

“I’ve got you, honey. Want you to come for me.” He mumbles against the skin of your chest as he continues to fuck you, one hand gripping onto the top of the couch for support.

He can sense you’re getting close and he applies a firm thumb to your clit, the pressure willing another moan from deep within you. Your fingers lock onto the strands of his hair as his fingers begin to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Jake quickens the pace of his thrusts, and his hand moves to grab the leg that’s wrapped around his waist, instead pushing your knee up to your chest so he can plunge into you deeper. The new angle combined with the consistent pressure on your clit has you screaming out, and you pray that no one walks down the hall past this room right now because they’d definitely hear you.

The sensation of Jake’s thumb and forefinger harshly pinching your clit sends you over the edge, a loud, broken cry escaping your throat as he fucks you through it. His length continues to move in and out of you, hips never slowing their pace. The overstimulation leaves you a whimpering mess, nails clawing into Jake’s shoulder as he searches for his own high.

Jake is nearing his end too, the tightness of your walls constricting around his cock as you writhe and whimper underneath him makes his hips stutter as he slams into you. With a few more thrusts, he reaches his peak with a deep groan. His warm, sticky release coating your walls and you sigh blissfully at the feeling. Jake’s hips slow, not stopping fully until he’s spent, wanting to fill you up with every last drop of his cum.

Once he’s sure that you’ve milked him of every last bit, Jake pulls out of you gently and you whimper at the feeling. Missing the fullness of him already, a sigh escapes your lips as a mixture of his release and yours begins to dribble out between your thighs.

Jake moves to flip the two of you over so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting upon his chest. You can feel his still-fast heartbeat against your ear, getting slower by the minute as he recovers from his high. 

Your own heart is racing too and your mind is hazy as you wind down, you’re not sure that anyone has ever fucked you so good. Jake’s arms wrap around you, one hand reaching up into your hair and gently massaging your scalp as the other softly rubs at the skin of your back.

The two of you lay there for a while, cuddling and quietly talking about everything and nothing. Sharing details about yourselves, wanting to get to know each other a little better. 

At some point, you pick up the bottle of champagne from the floor again, still resting on Jake’s chest as you pass it back and forth. Taking sips, both of you pleasantly buzzed—from both the alcohol and the orgasms—as you talk about your jobs, your families, anything and everything that comes to mind.

Eventually, the topic of discussion turns to the events of the day and the wedding, and Jake has you giggling as he makes some joke at your brother’s expense. 

Spending time with Jake is easy. You feel giddy, yet comfortable in his embrace and his cocky-but-charming personality hasn’t failed yet to make you smile.

“Maybe we should get married.” The sarcastic tone of Jake’s voice lets you know he’s obviously joking, but his words still have you lifting your head from his bare chest to look up at him, a bit bemused.

“It would make my entire life to see the look on Rooster’s face when he has to tell people that I’m his brother-in-law.” Jake continues, looking down at you with that signature smirk, the mischievous mirth in his eyes eliciting a giggle from you.

Even though he doesn’t know you very well yet, Jake can’t help but think it might actually be pretty nice to be married to someone like you. Sweet, funny, beautiful–and Jake finds he really enjoys spending time with you.

“Yeah, I’d pay good money to see that.” You agree, your body being gently bounced around with the movement of Jake’s chest beneath you as he joins you in your laughter.

“Ok, so I know it’s a little soon for marriage, but I would like to take you out.” For the first time since you met him earlier that day, Jake actually seems a bit… nervous? The smile on his face is a bashful one and you find it’s adorable. From the stories your brother had told about the cocky pilot, you never would’ve thought you’d find him so endearing.

“Like… in the murdering sense?” You try to alleviate his nerves with a bit of humor and Jake’s subsequent deadpan stare has you giggling again. You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw. He pretends to be annoyed by your antics, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“On a date.” He drawls with a dramatic eye roll. You suck in a breath and plaster a pensive look on your face, pretending for a moment like you actually need to think about his offer. You exhale with an exaggerated sigh.

“Ok.” Your arms tighten around Jake’s torso and you press a kiss to his chest.

“Yeah?” Jake tries to keep his cool, but he has a hard time hiding the excitement in his voice. He knows you can probably feel the way his heart has sped up beneath your cheek that’s resting against his skin too.

“Yes. I’d love to go out with you.” You lift your head to gaze up at him once more, trying to bite back your grin. But Jake’s thumb reaches up to release your bottom lip from between your teeth, gently running over the tender skin as he gazes down at you with those glittering green eyes. Yeah, you could get used to that.

The two of you stay wrapped up together on the sofa a little while longer, still talking quietly so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the ambiently-lit suite. You’re still lying on Jake’s chest, your legs intertwined with his, lulled into a hazy state of comfort as one of his hands lightly runs through your hair, lazily twirling the locks around his finger. His other hand is softly tracing patterns onto the bare skin of your back.

You and Jake have been gone a long while now, and you know if you don’t return to the party soon, Bradley is going to come looking for you. Deciding you’d rather not have your brother find you in such a compromising position with one of his friends, you begrudgingly lift your head from Jake’s chest.

“We should probably head back out there.” You say with little enthusiasm. “My brother’s gonna think you kidnapped me and send out a search party.” 

You grumble, pouting as Jake’s hand lightly caresses over your hair. Cute. 

He laughs at your sour expression and hums in agreement, sitting up on the couch. The movement of his body taking you with him as you’re still wrapped around him.

Jake ponders if he should maybe tell you about Bradley warning all of the men at his wedding away from you—but ultimately decides against it as you seem so content, so at ease with him. He didn’t want to ruin your good mood or cause problems between you and your brother. And, he really likes you. He doesn’t want to fuck this up.

Maybe he’d tell you one day when Bradley is really pissing him off, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

Jake helps you to your feet before standing up himself and stepping back into his boxers. He tells you to wait a moment while he runs into the bathroom that’s at the back of the room. 

While you’re in the midst of securely clasping your bra back over your chest, Jake returns with a damp cloth, kneeling down to gently clean up his cum that’s now dried down the inside of your thighs, leaving a soft kiss to the skin of your hip. 

Once you’re all cleaned up, Jake helps you step into your lace underwear, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder for balance as your legs still feel a bit like Jell-O after the earth-shattering orgasms he had given you.

He stands to help you back into your bridesmaid’s dress, leaning down to place featherlight kisses to your shoulder blades as he closes up the zipper. Jake even helps smooth down your hair—surely a mess from your earlier activities and his hands running through it—leaving a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves to re-dress himself. This time forgoing his tie in favor of stuffing it into his pocket. 

With your heels strapped around your ankles once more, you let Jake lead you out of the suite. Your hand joined with his and your cheek resting against his shoulder as you navigate your way, side by side, back to the ballroom. 

When you reach the double doors, you tug at Jake’s hand to stop him before he can open them. The blonde’s cute, inquisitive look reminds you of a golden retriever puppy and it makes your heart flutter. You reach up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a brief, but passionate kiss.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to do that again.” You tell him with a nervous laugh and he lets out a satisfied groan.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Jake pulls you back in and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he attaches them to yours. The two of you spend the next few minutes just standing there, making out outside of the entrance to the ballroom. 

Mouths moving languidly together, and you don’t hesitate to grant Jake’s tongue access when it runs along the seam of your lips. Tongues swirling lazily around one another trying to memorize the taste. When you finally pull back, your lips are swollen, and both you and Jake are beaming.

The reception is coming to an end, and you make it back into the slowly emptying ballroom just in time to see the happy newlyweds making their rounds about the room, accepting congratulations and thanking their guests for coming. 

As they come across you and Jake, Natasha is all smiles while Bradley’s expression drops into one of annoyance, his hazel-eyed glare directed at Jake. 

Never one to be intimidated by his best frenemy, Jake’s mouth forms into that distinctive smirk, extending the hand that wasn’t holding yours toward your brother.

“Congratulations, Rooster.” Jake speaks confidently. The two of them shake hands, not dissimilar to how they did after the success of the Uranium mission. Except this time, Bradley isn’t smiling.

By the happy look on your face and the fact that you’re not glaring at him—or trying to hit him—Bradley realizes that Jake must not have told you about his earlier warning to his groomsmen. Though he’s still annoyed with Jake for going against his wishes, he guesses that’s for the best. Maybe Natasha was right.

“Thanks, man.” Bradley’s face softens just barely. 

“But, just know, if you hurt my little sister, I won’t hesitate to shoot your plane out of the sky. We clear?” Your brother continues, still shaking Jake’s hand all the while. Natasha watches the whole exchange, trying not to laugh.

“Bradley-!” Eyes widening, you try to intercept but Jake stops you, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“No, no. It’s okay, Sweets.” You can hear the mirth in his voice when he says it, knowing he’s going to get a reaction out of Bradley.

“SWEETS?!” Your brother all but shrieks, ripping his hand away from Jake’s as if he’s been burned and Natasha is no longer able to hold back her laughter. The pouty glare he gives her in return ends up pulling a snicker out of you too. Jake chuckles haughtily and wraps an arm around your shoulders before addressing your brother again.

“I’m not gonna do anything to hurt her, Bradshaw. I promise. You have my word.” You smile sweetly up at Jake, delighted by his words. 

Your brother grumbles in agreement, recognizing the sincerity in his friend’s voice in that moment, before the two of them shake hands once more. Then, Jake offers the bride a hug and his congratulations, and tells you he’ll give you a moment with you brother, that he’ll be waiting for you by the exit.

With Jake making his exit, your brother’s face finally softens as he turns his attention to you. 

That is, until he glances down a bit and you know that he’s clocked the very obvious hickey blooming on the side of your neck when his expression hardens again. You can swear you see his eye twitch and you have to refrain from laughing. Luckily, for both of your sakes, he doesn’t bring it up.

Bradley just sighs before shaking his head. For the first time since the breakup, his little sister looks genuinely happy and if that’s the case, then he’s happy too.

“Hangman… really?” He scrunches his nose and at that, you simply shrug at him with an amused grin.

Your brother groans, “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t wanna know.”

“Deal.” The two of you share a laugh and Bradley pulls you into a tight bear-hug, which you return gratefully.

“Love you, sis.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “Love you too, Bradley.”

Natasha watches the sweet moment between her new husband and sister-in-law with a smile.

“I’m really happy for you, big bro. And so proud. Mom and Dad would be too.” Your arms tighten around him as you quietly deliver the sentiment.

You turn your gaze toward Natasha to let her know that you’re now addressing her as well. “Congratulations!”

When Bradley releases you from his embrace, Nat pulls you in for a hug as well. With that, they bid you goodnight and make your way back over to Jake who’s waiting for you by the ballroom doors.

Bradley opens his arm for his wife to step under, which Natasha does gladly, her own arm draping around Bradley’s waist as his moves to wrap around her shoulders. The couple watches on as you cross the room to reach the cockiest member of the Dagger squad.

“I actually think they’re kinda cute together.” Natasha’s tone is a jesting one, but there’s definitely some truth to her statement. Bradley just tilts his head up toward the ceiling, eyes clenched shut as he groans in response.

With the festivities coming to a close, you find yourself incredibly tired. After such a long day–and all the exertion with Jake that evening, you’re more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Fortunately for you, everyone was staying in the hotel at which the reception was held, so it wasn’t a long commute. 

Despite your increasing exhaustion though, you were reluctant to bid Jake goodnight.

“So… I guess, if you want, you could walk me to my room? Or…” You trail off, leaving the ball in his court. A tad nervous now, blinking up at him with a bright-eyed, hopeful expression, unsure if Jake will get the hint. 

But he definitely does, and the expectant look on your beautiful face makes him smile. What you don’t know is that Jake isn’t quite ready for his time with you tonight to come to an end either.

“Or… you could come back to mine?” He finishes the sentence for you, his grin morphing into more of a smirk, but his tone remains sincere. Placing your hands on his chest, you lean up to peck Jake’s lips.

“I’d love to.” You speak softly against his lips and Jake can feel you smiling. “Just don’t tell my brother.”

Your cheeky remark has Jake letting out a throaty chuckle, his breath warming your cheek before he briefly presses his lips to yours more firmly.

“How else am I gonna piss him off?” Jake jests and you retreat from the kiss, playfully smacking his chest. Shaking your head as the two of you share another laugh. His hands move to slide up the bare skin of your arms as you pull back and Jake can feel the goosebumps forming there.

He removes his suit jacket, leaving him in just his dress shirt, and carefully drapes it over your shoulders. The coat dwarfs your smaller frame, and Jake decides he loves the way you look all wrapped up in his clothes.

“Come on, Sweets. Let’s get you to bed.” Jake softly drawls. The look you give him is one of pure adoration as he takes your hand in his and leads you out into the halls of the hotel.

And though you’re most definitely tired, you have an inkling you’d be more than okay with spending a couple more hours wide awake with Jake when you get up to his room.

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Thank you for reading! x

Part two

Taglist: @sebsxphia @wkndwlff @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87

also tagging a few others who reblogged the sneak peek of this story:

@sunlightmurdock @rosiahills22 @gigisimsonmars @wildxwidow @sarkasfics @roosters-girl <3

[perfectlyoongi]

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who still has your pillow on his bed, just because it smells like you. no matter how much time had passed, Yoongi swore that particles of your essence were still reveling in that white pillow; no matter how much time had passed, Yoongi swore he still felt you every night, when his thoughts were more violent and his heart asked for comfort, asked for you; no matter how much time had passed, Yoongi would never wash that pillow, fearing that the memories of you would drown in the sea of neglect that covered the entire space outside the bed, outside of Yoongi’s safe haven. yes, no matter how much time had passed, Yoongi would never be able to forget how your soul smelled like home. “i carry with me the weight of the longing you left behind. part of me wants to believe that it’s all just a dream. but when the moon is high and my thoughts suffocate me, it’s your comfort that i miss. it’s you that i miss.”

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who looks for you in every crowd. he knew he was just hurting himself, but Yoongi couldn’t stop his eyes from taking in each face closely, hoping to see your sweet smile on them, hoping to see your bright eyes on them, hoping to see you in the middle of them. without noticing, Yoongi always found himself in the middle of crowds, those places he always avoided and preferred to see from afar; but now, when your departure squeezed Yoongi’s heart and the longing for you guided Yoongi’s steps, he always ended up in the middle of the crowds, wanting, waiting, begging, to see you one last time. “your existence haunts me. the ghost of our memories wanders among the crowds, seeking from them the love they know only you can give. it’s a game without any victories.”

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who goes back to the places where he kissed you to relive the memories. the days were grey, painted in tones of melancholy, and Yoongi could only feel his heart sink. it was there that he kissed you for the first time, your shy smile was still stuck on the small park bench; it was in front of that tree that Yoongi said the first i love you to you, your nervous laugh still echoed through the tree’s branches; it was in front of that window that you stole a kiss that tasted like caramel, he could still see his rosy cheeks in the immaculate glass of the store. the entire city was a map of Yoongi’s happiest moments; in every corner, in every nook, in every neighborhood lived fragments of your soul and the memory of you covered every street with a permanent veil of pure guilt, regret, longing, love. “it is in these places that the beauty of your soul still endures. and it was in those places that i kissed you and loved you and swore to always love you. and i will always love you.”

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who spends sleepless nights wondering where he went wrong. had Yoongi forgotten any important dates? no. your birthday was celebrated with laughter, the smiles from your anniversary still painted works of art in Yoongi’s heart. would his work have interfered in any way with your life together? no. Yoongi no longer spent nights in the studio. Yoongi had already stopped locking himself in his office when he was at home. Yoongi had renounced his art, his passion, to be able to love you. but, was that Yoongi’s mistake? did he love you too much? was Yoongi’s love so big, so intense, so suffocating, that it only gave you one way out? a way out of his life? “tell me if my devotion was the cause of my destruction. i ask you. please, tell me where i went wrong so i can love you again. tell me what i didn’t do so i can have your love again.”

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who can’t look in the mirror without seeing you next to him. it was a constant agony that stepped and beat in Yoongi’s heart, squeezing tightly all the love he still felt, sharply attacking all the longing he had. and Yoongi only had to look in the mirror to feel it, to see it. there you were. always smiling, your hand gently holding Yoongi’s hand, your eyes locked on him. entire years were spent living next to you, living with you. entire days were spent in a weightless sea of pure love and fascination. and now, looking in the mirror, Yoongi felt empty, he felt incomplete. now, looking in the mirror, Yoongi’s heart manufactured a memory of you, cruelly reminding him that what was next to Yoongi was just the hope that still made his heart beat.

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who is slowly isolating himself. the crowds stopped hiding your face in them; the streets cleared every step you had walked; Yoongi’s house expelled all your essence without his permission. and now, lost in the middle of nowhere, without finding any hope in his sheets, in your pillow, Yoongi just sat on the floor and stayed there. still. the longing of you was the only thing that still made him live, still made him exist. every step Yoongi had taken, led him to that exact moment, to that point wh—

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who can’t say the word love again — for, without you being in his life, what meaning did that word have?

[sepublic]

The vocals at this part, and the music in general, really just hammer into me this sense of melancholy. That bittersweet nostalgia for the past, the pain and grief of change, everything you’ve lost and the hurt that is even more permanent... But also the bright hope for the future, that feeling of belonging that creates this homesickness. Seeing Luz grown up, part of it does feel like a return to form for her, a recovery from her trauma and the attempts to bury who she was.

But then seeing Willow start off our montage of how the Boiling Isles changed, seeing her and Hunter together and be so radically different and apart when they started... It really hits me then that it’s been years and my kids have all grown up. It’s been so much longer than the actual events of the show prior to the timeskip, multiple ‘Owl House’ stories just as dynamic could’ve happened since, several times over. And with Willow especially, she’s such a drastic step up from the meek wallflower and nerd she started as, it... It’s making me miss the old her, while also being so proud at who she’s become. Her, Hunter, Lilith, Amity, Gus... All of them.

And it all begins again with Owlbert, like we’re going through the show all over again, but reborn anew with another potential adventure ahead of us! God, Owlbert really ties it together and seeing him soar freely alongside Willow, while the light lullaby creates a sense of hopeful wonder and flight, creates an indescribable feeling...! The direction, the soundtrack, the cinematography and animation flow so well together, kudos to the team for that. It really does feel magical.

[kanafinwe-makalaure]

I have been thinking about Maglor and Finrod again recently and how I usually characterise them kind of similarly on the surface - in their youth, they're eccentric divas who like their attention and their jewellery, whereas in later Ages, they are more mellow and have this slight, but permanent air of melancholy about them.

All of this is really heavily based on my own headcanons, but I think to me and my interpretation of them, the key difference is that for young Maglor, that loud and dramatic persona is a performance and for Finrod, it is not.

In my mind, Finrod is naturally a total sunshine, the type of person you can't help but feel comfortable and happy around. He is that type of person who you feel completely seen by and who you can't help but look at, listen to, and admire. He naturally attracts attention and he loves to just share his music and his happiness with as many people as he can; he genuinely loves talking to and meeting other people and he does deeply care about getting to know each new person he meets - everyone's lives and inner worlds, to him, are an adventure to explore! He's all smiles and flair because that is who he is at his core.

After the First Age, and especially after spending so much time alone, he is, of course, very sick in spirit, and so no longer has the energy to adopt that persona again, nor the will. It is difficult to disentangle his genuine hurt from what is simply his nature, but healing, for him, would include embracing his natural tendencies. This would be extremely vulnerable for him because that persona he embodied in his youth was his shell of protection. Maybe the awareness that he would not have the energy to perform this role anymore is even part of the reason he did not want to return to his own kind during his wanderings - the belief that no-one would want him for his true self, anyway.

It is during the First Age that Finrod first experiences loss and sadness and fear and death and discovers that half of the spectrum of emotion that he has previously never really spent too much time on - whatever grief he had was always small enough to either process or distract himself from, but those strategies no longer work for him and it fundamentally changes him and the way he interacts with the world. I also do doubt if his release from Mandos might not have been premature, so he might not have healed entirely and discovered new, healthy coping mechanisms.

He is still fundamentally a very positive person who seeks to find and spread joy, but everything that he once knew and that does bring him joy is now also tied to painful memories for him. For Finrod, healing would mean finding ways to process that grief and make more positive experiences than negative - which is difficult for him, because he is still not the type of person to dwell on sad things because maybe, it frightens him a little, and that unprocessed grief is felt in the air around him everywhere he goes.

Meanwhile Maglor (I went into my interpretation of him in more depth here) I see as someone whose nature is actually more mellow and melancholic. As a child, he is pensive and tends to spend time alone, likes to ponder the big questions of the universe and is very sensitive and quiet. Unfortunately, in a family like his, to be quiet is to be invisible, and his parents express worry about him being so prone to sadness, so he adopts a louder persona - he must be seen at all costs, he must outshine everyone at all costs. He is especially focused on pleasing Fëanor this way. Given all this, he is secretly very insecure, but hides it relatively well. Few people ever see behind his mask.

However, this means it is difficult for him to make connections that go beyond a surface level. Both with Fëanor and others, his "perfect formula" for being entirely pleasant and likeable never 100% works because the personality he shows to the world is disingenuous, and even the admiration it does get him is based on an act, so his actual self-esteem is not very great. The only thing he is truly confident about his his music, but he ties his entire sense of self-worth to it as a result, which is not great for his mental health, either.

Later, it means he lacks the confidence to stand his ground against Fëanor and Maedhros even when he disagrees, and so shrinks in the shadow of those he follows - until the very end, when they have all left him.

If he returns, it really will be difficult for his loved ones to get used to this more vulnerable version of him, but with time, they would realise he is much healthier that way. Once he builds a new sense of identity that more closely aligns with his personality, he can feel much more secure and build a more genuine connection to himself and the world around him.

[shuaraes]

we shouldn’t have ended like this | x.mh

- leave your message after the beep

oneshot | 1.3k | exes! au | angst

it’s three am and xu minghao has never felt more lonely in life. drunk on melancholy and emptiness, he ruminates on your relationship and regrets the way you both had ended. even though it’s late at night, minghao tries to rewrite his wrongdoings because deep down he knows a part of you still loves him.

~ paring . xu minghao x gender-neutral!reader

~ content . exes (to lovers???)! au, non idol! au, miscommunication- no even lack of communication,

~ tw . mentions of alcohol, vague mentions of sex

~ song rec . only ones we know - arctic monkeys

~ author’s note . the idea for this was adapted from some of my poetry. my prose is still a bit rusty but i hope this is decent enough! happy christmas to those who celebrate, and to those who don’t hope you have a great day, happy reading! 🫶

MINGHAO’S BED IS EMPTY.

It has been for the past year, yet he can’t wrap his head around it. He lies down on the navy sheets of his queen-sized bed and reaches out to the other side. For some reason he expects it to be warm to the touch: he is met with only coolness. Not cool in the way a sip of water after a mint is or the rush of the winter wind not blocked by fabric. The coolness is like a ghost: the phantom of you that haunts every part of his dwelling.

The walls mourn for your presence, whispering your name, muted pleas into Minghao’s ear. Your name creeps up on him when he least expects it, after the two month-mark, he gave up trying to push you out. ‘It shouldn’t have ended like this,’ the walls call out to him. ‘We shouldn’t have ended like this,’ your last words to him. It shouldn’t have ended like this.

If Minghao squints hard enough, he can still see the imprint of your body, the permanent dent in the mattress where you used to lie. Minghao tries to pretend that just minutes ago, you were engulfed in his sheets, him engulfed in you. He waits for you to fill the dent in the mattress, to mend the hole in his heart.

But you don’t come. And he is alone.

Minghao turns over to face the celling, his jet-black hair falling on his pillow around his head like a halo. His fan spins like a vinyl on a record player from the 60’s. In his head, it’s playing your favourite song. He hums along to the lyrics, you always said he had a good singing voice. This thought almost breaks him.

You broke up with Minghao because you thought you could not love him enough, not knowing your mere presence was more than enough for him. If you were a baby flame, he was a pyromaniac, hand outstretched ready to be burnt. But when it got hard you pushed him away to protect his own feelings, so he became distant and pushed you out. It came to a point where Minghao felt it was like living with a stranger.

When you proposed a breakup, Minghao wasn’t surprised, and he didn’t act like he was either. He stayed deathly silent as you spoke, staring into his mug of tea that had long gone cold. “Fine.” He said as he looked into brown void of his cup (if he looked you in the eye, he would have broke). But with your closing words he knew it was a mistake, you still loved him (he will forever love you). It shouldn’t have ended like this, yet Minghao did nothing to prevent it.

Even after a year, Minghao wonders why he didn’t fight harder. Maybe it’s because, subconsciously, he knew you were too good for him. You deserved someone less cowardly, someone who would never let you go like a children’s balloon, would never let you go so easily. Yet nothing can stop the green-eyed monster of jealousy, waltzing around in her emerald ball gown whenever he hears about you with someone else. Your shared friends give him updates on how you’re doing, but when someone else is mentioned romantically, he shuts out. Trying to piece together why it wasn’t him instead.

Selfishness is a sin - he knows that - but he can’t help from wanting you all to himself. So, he tries to have you in any way he can. He sleeps with your favourite blanket, he washes his clothes with your favourite brand of detergent and in the winter, by the heater, he warms a pair of your house slippers that you never remembered to collect. He searches for you in the bodies of others, the dips in their collarbones and curves of their spines, but of course they cannot compare to you. No one does. If these hook ups amounted to even 1% of what Minghao feels for you, then he wouldn’t complain. But they don’t.

Minghao misses you.

In life, Minghao believes that people only get one chance at true love. He’s scared that he’s used all his luck up on you.

The loss of you gnaws away at him. It wains away at his resolve and destroys any hope for a life away from you. A slow dull pain, it was always in the back of his mind: inescapable though manageable. Minghao didn’t know what was different about tonight, but all he knows is that he has never felt the same about anyone else.

The past kills him. It strangles him, leaving him paralysed with no choice but to face his mistakes. His love for you kills him inside out. It eats away at his psyche until all that is left of him are his feelings for you. It’s three am and all that remains of him is you.

It has always been you.

Fuck it, he picks up his phone off his nightstand and dials your number. Minghao knows he’s not thinking straight, but if he doesn’t at least try to reach you, he will resent himself until the day he dies. The line starts to ring and Minghao holds the phone to his ear with bated breath and clammy hands. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears pounding like a wooden mallet while he waited.

After what felt like eons, the line goes to voicemail. Of course, it did, it’s three am. Minghao feels stupid for thinking you’d pick up. The automated voice reads out the predetermined script to tell him that you can’t answer the phone the right now. It then asks to leave a message if desired. Minghao knows he shouldn’t, he doesn’t care, he loves you.

- Leave your message after the beep - “Hey, it’s Minghao” his voice wavers, it’s obvious he’s nervous. “Call me when you get this.”

Minghao presses the keypad to end the voice message, yet he feels empty. This isn’t closure, this isn’t what he needs. With this alone, in the morning, you’ll probably delete the message and go on with your life.

Minghao is tired of pretending to be rational, hiding his feelings behind a masquerade of poise and nonchalance. He’s going insane because of you, and he needs to let you know, you need to know how much he loves you.

He left another voicemail.

- Leave your message after the beep - “Y/N, I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t blame you. A year of no contact and you get a call from me out of the blue, but for once I’m begging, give me a chance. Listen, I love you. I’ve loved you since the day we first met, since the day we broke up and i think i’m going to love you every day until I die. I don’t think i let it show but you were my endgame, after you i don’t want to love anyone else,”

Minghao could feel himself rambling, his words tumbling from his lips uncontrollably. His heart is a spilled glass of milk, all his soul on display for your critique. He wants to stop himself from speaking but he can’t, so he continues,

“Letting you go so easily was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I should’ve fought for you, and I know it may be too late but I’m doing it now.

Tomorrow let me take you out to dinner, we can dress up nice and get drunk off our heads. Then I’ll order us a taxi back to yours or mine I don’t mind, then we’ll slow dance to that one jazz album you like, and I’ll promise to never push you away. Things won’t be perfect, and we both have a lot to work on, but I don’t care. Everything is perfect enough for me as long as you're by my side. And before you say I’m drunk, trust me I’m not, I’m a bit sleepy but that doesn’t change a thing. I love you so much Y/N.”

Minghao cuts the phone down and the screen fades to his lock screen, a candid photo of you from a year ago that he refused to change. He places his phone on his heart (your home) and falls asleep waiting for it to ring.

[obriengf]

24 Minutes || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: You find Stiles hiding away after the burial of his mother. Words: 1.6k Warnings: sadness, mentions of death, mentions of graves, mentions of loss Notes: this was sad to write! also these babies are now 9 years old, growing up fast!

part two of TWENTY FOUR - a stiles stilinski series (masterlist)

The sky was grey; a murky tone that cast a shadowy blanket over a small town, a quintessential backdrop to a ceremony that held sadness and loss. It was the depth of angst that settled within hearts, pulling and tearing until a hole was formed and left unfilled. There was one less mother, wife, daughter, friend in the world and it was felt tenfold by every single person that surrounded her wooden casket. The rain had held off but it didn't make the circumstances any more fortunate - the sombre air only further strangulating the grieving weeps of townsfolk, the thick tension gathering within Beacon Hill's cemetery with such magnetic force. Today... was an incredibly sad day. It was hard to watch as your friend stared at his dress shoes, inadvertently accepting the sombre apologies from friends and family that were projected toward him and his father. He was usually a loud kid, full of energy and excitement and mischief - never able to settle down or lose his smile. From the day you first met him, Stiles Stilinski was the epitome of sunshine, but the decline of his mother's health brought out a gloominess in him that hurt your young heart nearly as much as it did his own. His hands were tucked behind his back, but you knew he was fiddling with his fingers - a way to express the anxious energy that was constantly building within him. The past few months had been extremely tough on the young boy, but today was the worst by far, and it was written so painfully across his permanent frown and puffy red eyes. You stood to the side beside your parents as they made small talk with others from around town, their voices drowning out as you kept your focus on Stiles and the immense sympathy you were holding for him. You desired to talk to him, to comfort him, hold his hand and be a shoulder to cry on - something that children your age should never have to worry about feeling, and yet, your chest squeezed with the inclination to do just that.

The ceremony was dismal, but the melancholy somehow was much stronger as you all gathered downstairs of the Stilinski residence - bodies clad in black moving slowly, sadly, as stories were shared and memories reminisced. It didn't feel right to be in this house with the absence of smiles and laughter from the family you grew so close to; the ones who you treated like an extension of your own tree, with as much love and trust that you had for your parents.

You were standing to the side as Scott McCall nudged your shoulder, his frame just slightly taller than yours. It had only taken six months of daily measuring until he finally passed that threshold - but he wasn't gloating about it today. The boy instead offered a smile of complete sorrow, a commiserative gesture, the only thing you two could muster despite the circumstances. He was the type to comfort anyone who needed it due to testing trials of his own and the demons that he still didn't understand clearly. A story of which you weren't aware of yet.

"Has anybody seen my son?" Noah's voice croaked, the hoarseness evident from hours of grieving. The crowd in the living room declined, quickly followed by the guests filtered into the kitchen. He looked worried as sudden urgency grappled at his features, an anxious act that was mirrored so easily when it came to Stiles' turn to express such emotion. Stiles was Noah's reminder of Claudia Stilinski - a physical being with her eyes and freckled complexion - and with that loss, he turned to panic.

Your hand was gentle as it grabbed Scott's wrist, careful not to tug too hard as you ushered him to follow you across the room. Noah Stilinski was a second father to you, and you hated the idea of your family hurting. You stopped abruptly in front of him, Scott nearly bumping into your back as he gathered composure, your eyes wide as you peered up. "We can find him, Mr Stilinski."

"Please, that would... I would really appreciate it, kids." Noah's left hand settled on your shoulder, as his right sat upon Scott's. He knew that if anybody could locate his son, it would be his two best friends.

You turned to Scott, pushing back every inclination to poke fun at his missing front tooth, before you nodded your head toward him, "Okay, Scotty. Where should we start?"

Twenty minutes had already passed by the time you peered down to your watch - red and blue pictures staring back at you, a Spiderman-themed timekeeper courtesy of Stiles for your eighth birthday. Stiles was still missing and you were running out of hiding places.

You huffed, frustrated at your inability to find him, and it prompted Scott to turn around with consoling eyes, "We'll find him, Y/N. Promise." A tight-lipped smile was all you could reply with before Scott hummed, his gaze flicking around the room in thought. You could've sworn you saw a lightbulb go off as an idea struck his young mind, that gap-tooth smile making another appearance, "Okay, how about we split up? I'll go outside and you can check some more upstairs!"

It was a good plan, you thought, despite already ducking your heads into the upstairs bathroom and Stiles' bedroom without any success. You wondered if Scott was trying to distract you, to buy some time as he tried to think of something better - but you complied regardless, not wanting to give up on looking for your friend. Especially after the weighted events of today.

Your little steps made the boards creak as you ascended the staircase, any further moves stopped as you ended up standing aimlessly in the landing. Stiles wouldn't have ventured far, he wasn't that type of kid, choosing to instead make new places out of the ones he already knew - and it reminded you of all the times you couldn't find him during Hide and Seek. Your friend was as creative as he was mischievous and it made such a simple game into an absolute challenge.

It wasn't until you remembered the one place you actually found him, before any of this creativity of his fell into serious play. It was obvious the more you thought about it and suddenly, a smile tugged up between your cheeks at the possibility that you knew where Stiles would be.

The hinges of his bedroom door carried a long squeak as you gently pushed it open, the echo loud as it bounced around the room. It didn't look any different to when you and Scott were here earlier, your watch now indicating that it had been twenty-four minutes since you declared your search party mission to Noah Stilinski. It was dull at first - the sorrowful sound of a cry, a sniffle to interrupt the heartache of a young boy. You hadn't noticed it before but now you found it hard not to. You followed it slowly as if any quick movements would set him off, and it led you to where you wanted to be.

"Stiles?" Your voice was tender and quiet, an alert to let him know that you had finally found him. Your friend sniffled in reply and your smile quickly dropped to a worried frown. You stared at the closet before opening the door - light filtering inside before highlighting the cowered figure of Stiles in the corner.

His knees dragged to his chest as arms locked around them, face buried except for the big glassy brown eyes you knew too well. He was heavily distraught and your heart ached dearly for him. You cooed before walking in beside him and taking a seat, your arms brushing as a form of comfort. Legs were crossed in front of you as your hands settled in your lap, gaze now trained on the boy as he had yet to look away from you.

"We've been looking for you." You spoke, head tilting only slightly to better see his face.

Stiles took a shaky breath as arms dragged over his eyes, an attempt to wipe away the trail of tears that had been nursing him in your absence. His voice was scratchy and fractured, "There were too many people... and they kept saying sorry, a-and it was too much."

"I know." Your arm reached out for him as it sat idly on his shoulder, trying to soothe his sobs. Stiles' head leaned against it swiftly as a form of comfort. "We can stay up here a little longer if ya want?"

He sat up straight; eyes widened as honey-glazed hues stared back at you, doe-like and sparked with hope. He was glad that you didn't try to force him back downstairs. "D'ya mean it?"

"Of course." Arms were held wide toward Stiles, an offering for him to fall into them before you enclosed them tightly around his frame. The embrace was sweet, and soon regarded as necessary as Stiles began to cry into your shoulder. He was tired of it all.

His voice was muffled, but you could still make out his words as the boy pressed further into you. "She's really gone, Y/N. Mom's gone." Your hands moved in circles over his jacket as he continued to cry, something your parents would do when you were upset to make you feel better. And as you did, Stiles' hands grasped the fabric at the back of your dress and pulled you against his chest - the mere thought of letting you go scaring him into thinking he'd lose you too.

Your features were scrunched as your brows furrowed and lips downturned. If made you coo, a soft hum, shushing delicately into the young boy's ear, "She is, Stiles. But I'll help you get through it. I'll always be here for you."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise."

[peiskos-and-apricity]

My Oath to You

Týr x (GN)Reader

Summary - Týr has returned to you after more than a century of absence. Completely overwhelmed by his sudden appearance you can't bring yourself to believe that your long lost lover has finally come home.

Word count - 1.7k

Masterlist

Years. Years you had spent apart. Without him your days bled together, your nights full of restless heartache. By the second decade you had believed him truly gone; his comforting care ripped from your hands. You had mourned him, had buried him in the permanent scar he left behind. He had become an old melancholy memory.

And yet now, impossibly, you stand before him. His soft features are as still as your own, his warm eyes staring into your very being. You would have thought him a ghost, a mere apparition had he not held the arrow that had missed the mark of his chest by a nails edge. An arrow that left your fingers out of rage at the being who claimed to be your long-lost love. At an imposter.

The only thing that had cut through your rage long enough to stop your assault was the shining ring on his hand. A vow you had given, a promise, a shining beacon of what was supposed to be forever. You held your bow strong, but you were simply too blinded by that small binding sheen of what you had lost so long ago.

Silence, a painful, heart-wrenching silence. One that, through a tightened throat and weary hope, you spoke through.

"Do not..." You start, your voice shaking at just the sight of someone who would dare tell you that he wasn't gone.

"Do not lie to me" your anger bleeds into every word, but the slight shake of your hands shows your fragile state. Your face contorts into an ugly mix of fury-filled pain.

"My word is truth. I vowed no man nor God, no cage nor world would keep me from you. I would sooner have my spirit broken than that promise" his voice is soft, so memorably soft, his eyes showing a care you missed oh so dearly. When you didn't move he approached again, this time slowly, carefully, as if each step were a promise of its own.

And yet still you held strong. Even as tears well in your eyes and your breathing becomes shallow you do not dare let down your guard. You didn't turn from him, not for a second. You simply felt your chest tighten further, your mind screaming to let go, to kill the being who would do something as cruel as speaking the promises he knew naught of.

"My guiding star, I cannot bear any more distance. I have spent countless cold nights aching for the warmth of you" his sweet words are a lull against the grating yell of your own mind. Despite how much you try to block out the sound it effortlessly digs into you, plucking at the dusted strings of your heart in a melody only he ever knew. You knew you should pull away, that you should question this impossible situation further, but you can't seem to find the will to move from him.

Once he is in an arm's reach he slowly pushes the bow down, moving its arrow away from him like there was never a threat to his life. You didn't protest the movement, you couldn't bear to. Instead you turned away, your eyes shutting as tears fell from them, unable to look at this torturous apparition any further. Your grip finally loosened on the string.

"Please, don't turn from me" he pleaded as the warmth of his hand met your own, the bow falling to the ground. You tense at the touch, still unable to believe such a thing. But it isn't long before the warmth of him is far too tempting. Your hand grips his tighter, half expecting nothing to be there but feeling a surge of emotion when there is.

"You're...You're a liar" you spit through grated teeth and choked back sobs.

"You aren't- he's..." You try to lash out, try to fight against this horrible lie. But gods forgive you, there is no part of you that can bear to pull away.

"You're not real" you whispered the painful words in a weakening tone as you felt his presence step closer, only inches from you now. 

"I am, my love...I am" he whispers back, your hand squeezing tighter as you try to hold the pieces of yourself together. Ever so gently he lays his head against yours, a shaky breath leaving him.

For a moment there is silence. One so quiet you could practically hear your strength cracking into pieces. A silence so painful that you can only bear to be in it so long as you hear his thumping heart and shallow breath.

"Words fail me. I cannot begin to tell you the ways I have missed you" his words strike through your being in a flash of bittersweet. He was nothing if not a man of many beautiful words and it was a rare day when he didn't have a poet's tongue. But his voice breaks and his grip on you tightens ever so slightly. A pleading is found in how desperately he clings. 

"You haven't a clue" you choke out, no longer able to hold your front of fury.

"I have mourned you. You were dead to the world. Dead to me" you speak through the threat of sobs in your throat. He pulls away ever so slightly, an absence you feel so deeply that you must restrain yourself from diving back into his hold. But he seems to do that for you when he takes both hands to either side of your face. He wipes the tears that fall like rivers from you and you notice then that his own rivers fall as well. But even through the clear pain of so many years apart, he still looks at you like he would steal the sun just to keep you warm. And you knew, deep down in that part of your soul you had spent so many years trying to carve out, that it would only take the slightest shiver from you for him to consider it.

"I might not know what it is to mourn your loss, but I have mourned the pain of the lifetime I couldn't share with you. I have spent each day yearning for nothing else and knowing you were just beyond my grasp" as he gazes into your eyes you can see the saddened smile that meets his lips. How sweet his smile always was. No matter through tears or tough times, his smile always found a way to calm you. Which is why it hurts so much when it slowly falls from his lips, his eyes shut as a labored breath leaves him.

"Please...speak to me. Say whatever you will but I simply cannot stand the silence" his voice is quiet, his words a pleading request. With a deep breath you soon hold the hands he held you with, fingers stroking scars you didn't recognize.

"I..." You lose the words you wished to say just as quickly as you had thought to say them. You had spent so long wishing for him back, pleading that he might still somehow come home. You would have hung every star in the sky if it meant you would be able to hold him for just one more night. But now that you're here, faced with the reality that you had begged for a love you never lost, you could really only find one thing to say.

"I love you" the words fall with practiced ease. There is not a being strong enough to ever rip away the effortlessness with which you found your care for him.

"I have loved you for as many flakes of snow have fallen in your absence. I have loved you for as many nights as I have wished on flickering stars for you back. I have loved you, I have loved you, I have-" you are hardly surprised when his lips suddenly meet your own, however you couldn't have predicted just how overwhelming the action would be. Lips moved in ways so intimately familiar to the both of you. Hands gripped tighter as if the dream might end should you let go, the salty taste of tears is ignored by the both of you. The two of you moved as if to make up for the more than a century of lost affection, slow and gentle and desperate, a silent cry to be so close you become one.

And, ever so slowly and with a hesitance the two of you rarely ever knew, your lips parted. His breath softly fell on your face, a closeness you had longed for so many nights to feel again. His head gently rested upon yours once more and you could only hope to never feel his absence ever again.

"Would you...promise me something?" Your voice is still so quiet, too afraid that any sudden noise would break this tentative peace.

"Anything" he answers back. You can't help the warmth that falls at just how quickly he answers.

"Promise me that I will never lose you again" your words are as soft as the first time you had ever asked such a thing of him. The short silence that follows hurts you a little, your worry mounting in it.

"We both know that is a vow I cannot make" his words are familiar, a horrible reality that he never allowed you to forget. It only ever made you hold on tighter to him.

"But," he continues. One of his hands reaches to your own before carefully pulling it to his lips and kissing the jeweled ring you would never dare to lose. One he had traveled many strange worlds to make for you.

"With every ounce of strength I still hold I will not stop fighting for every fleeting moment we have. That is what I can promise" his words, as bittersweet as they are, do comfort you. They are reminiscent of a vow made so many lifetimes ago. One that he would repeat to the end of time itself. You gently take his hand as well, your lips meeting the gold band that binds him to you.

"Then that is the promise I will hold us to"

[axiian19-art]

Was rewatching some of the HSR animations and HE LOOKS SO GODDAMN HAPPY HERE AS AN OLD MAN HELP

rambling about blade / yingxing headcanons and ideas that I've thought abt or seen floating around

(his white hair, him not knowing what tech is, how the Mara permanently messed up his hands and muscle memory so he can't do what he loved anymore, etc etc)

Headcanon #1: white hair

Everyone except Dan Feng had white hair, and I'm p sure I mentioned this before but imagine

So Yingxing is the only short-life species right, and he's getting old and noticing it and realizing that compared to the others, he doesn't have much time left

And one of the others notices how melancholy he is, and how he's trying to hide it for their sake, and is like "hmm," before being like "hey what if we all got white hair but didn't tell Dan Feng"

And all of them know it's to make Yingxing feel less alone, but it's played off as a "hehe pranking Dan Feng" moment

Headcanon #2: old man blade not knowing how tech works

We see this a bit with current Blade and Silver Wolf, but I like to imagine it was still part of his personality to a lesser extent

He would have been the "old guy" of the group who was an expert with traditional crafts and technology, but not so much with newer things since he preferred to make things "the old way" or by hand, since it made him feel more connected with his work

Like, he would have kept up with the newer stuff being made and used it if it would have helped him with his work, but wouldn't have bothered with stuff like phones, computers, the internet, etc

So the others would always ask him for help with anything they broke, and he'd ask for help with anything internet or computer related

Headcanon #3: him knowing how to craft stuff besides weapons, armor, et cetera

This is a stretch but if his skills expanded beyond just weapons and armor he could probably help fix everyone's clothes (they'd probably get torn up in battle) or make little hand-made gifts and stuff like statues and jewelry and armor and cutlery

Like he also would have been an artist specializing in handmade things, but no one would have suspected him of making such tiny and delicate things until they got to know him

Headcanon #4:

So as Blade, he still has damaged hands and scars, and I've seen a headcanon of sorts floating around that the Mara focuses only on the wounds that need the most urgent healing, and leaves "minor" or less severe wounds unhealed

And the Mara would have focused on all the fatal wounds Jingliu inflicted while killing Blade, leaving other wounds to heal improperly

So now as Blade, his hands are too damaged to perform fine crafts and movements, except for swordplay, which he sort of got beaten into him by Jingliu

My other headcanon of sorts is that the Mara messed with his muscle memory, not just his ability to remember events

So his mind and nervous system are essentially too scrambled for him to learn any type of craft or fine motor skill except for swordplay (and maybe driving)

And I kind of feel like he would find some peace if he were still able to make things, sort of like how some people use embroidery or weaving or drawing as a coping method / escapism, but even that form of art / self expression has been taken from him

It'd be like if Robin permanently lost the ability to sing or if Serval suddenly became tone-deaf and couldn't play guitar

[bengiyo]

I Feel You Linger in the Air Ep 11 Stray Thoughts

Last time, Jom, his friends, and their allies teamed up to expose Dech and Robert and their cruelest abuses. We then spent most of the episode wrapping up a lot of plot threads. Most everyone has either moved on or is okay for now. Maey is back with Euangphueng, Ming is fine, the mom is rebelling in her own way, etc. Yai is going to France and expects Jom to stay here and wait for him, which made me immediately dissociate. Also, Jom's starting to disappear in images and mirrors and we don't know why.

I like that Yai is skeptical, but can comprehend some of what Jom is saying about himself. Yai may not be good at practical things, but he's a thinker.

Nonkul is really good, and you can feel the complex emotions coming off of Jom as he can finally talk about what he's been experiencing openly.

Okay, Bright has cake.

This is the same team that had a woman give birth, with her jeans on, in the back of a truck earlier this year. I hope they handle this pregnancy plot better.

Why does the subber keep adding Khun to Euangphueng's name when Maey doesn't say it, but doesn't add it to Yai's name when Jom usually says it?

Okay, I really like them articulating the long-term pain and suffering Euangphueng is dreading.

That Fong Kaew scene with Khamsaen was so good. She's worrying about EP and he's convinced himself that Robert didn't touch her, but we know the implications of him making her bleed when he does himself on her.

Bright and Nonkul are so good together. There was no dialogue in this soft montage of Jom redoing the drawings, but you could feel the wistfulness that Jom might disappear at any moment. It's not easy for some pairs to do the 'being together' part really well, but these two are hitting that beautifully. Now that the stresses have been removed, they are clearly in love and a team.

I really love the relationship that has formed between Fong Kaew and Euangphueng. EP is making a very difficult decision and I like the way Fong Kaew's supporting her. It's also interesting to see Maey worry about the karma of getting an abortion as a reason to raise the child.

Yai is reading The Time Machine by H.G. Wells!!!

Not that the monk is wrong about them having no control over this phenomenon, but they could also maybe keep track of the rate at which Jom's reflection is vanishing and see if they could predict the number of days.

There is a melancholy hanging over this that works so well, because Jom basically has a terminal condition that will strike at any moment and permanently end this relationship.

Poor Ming. He's losing all of his friends.

Wow, this farewell party reminds me of the stories shared with me about someone getting an AIDS diagnosis before we had anything resembling effective treatment. Throwing a party before their health plummets to say goodbye.

And now they're dancing as everyone reminisces. I'm just gonna cry thanks.

Jom isn't going to be in this photo and we're all gonna be sad.

Okay, the letter broke me. How many queer lives have been lost to time because we couldn't preserve their stories. I am so invested in this letter now.

If Jom vanishes after he reads this letter I will be crushed.

They ended the episode on the almost faded photo!!!!!

I feel so heavy after that episode. Nonkul and Bright really did the damn thing this week. You can feel the ache the entire time. That party was one of the most beautiful things I've experienced in genre in a while. This show is really special.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 12.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M (Mature Content)

Word Count: 7.7K

Warnings: A romance between two adults with an unspecified age difference between them, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Tag list: @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks

Links: Part 1, …. Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

The announcement of Baekhyun’s departure to your team caused more stir than you had expected.

You’d anticipated a few disappointed groans, maybe some questions about the reason for the sudden change; even though there had never been any misconceptions that he was a permanent fixture on this team. But what actually happened was quite a bit of pushback from several members who said Baekhyun’s contributions had helped them greatly with the everyday. Either through his communication style, his sense of humor that usually made the office mood light and fun, with his organization, or his sense of leadership. You’d known that your own heart and soul had benefited greatly from having him on your side, but you hadn’t quite realized the impact he had on the rest of the team too.

The ladies seemed to take it particularly hard and you found your eyes pulled to him as he smiled his sweet smile in their direction, even frowning at a few in solidarity that he had to be pulled away from them all so suddenly. One younger member of your team who sat in the far back of the room abruptly rushed out of the room in tears, coming back after a few moments with a flushed face and hand full of tissues.

“What the hell was that about?” You whispered to him through tightly gritted teeth.

“I’ve never seen that girl in my entire life,” he whispered back through his wide toothy smile.

You tried your best to mitigate the negativity that had seemed to take over and when you announced that there would be a new replacement to take his place right away they only groaned louder. It was only after you agreed to throw a going away party after his final day did they finally settle down; placated by the thought of good food and alcohol on the company’s dime.

The commotion in the office settled and as you carried on with your day a new commotion seemed to be brewing inside of you the more you paid attention to your soon-to-be-Ex assistant. He went about his usual day-to-day duties only this time with a certain flair of finality to them. He was performing things with just a little bit more care and thoroughness, being sure to make plenty of notes in some book he kept. You began to feel an ache somewhere inside the more you watched him. He was so glaring with it too; as he carefully organized and stacked things with brand new super obvious labels he’d made that left no doubt at all about what was what and where things were. He also was speaking out loud as he did it, making sure you were paying attention so that when he was gone you could still find the things you needed.

While you found the entire thing extremely sweet of him to go through such great lengths for you, you also could not shake that melancholy lump that had settled deep inside of your chest.

How would you manage without him?

You knew, of course, the rational part of your brain knew that you were being very dramatic right now, and you would, of course, manage just fine, but still… how?

“I think I’ve made a mistake,” you said, to your own horror out loud. The words pushed their way out of your lips before you could stop them and Baekhyun looked up from where he had been digging inside of a file box across the office. His eyebrows lifted in silent question and you quickly closed your mouth back up and shook your head, as if you saying something like that to him without elaborating was anything you could shake your head about and have him actually ignore you.

“What mistake?” You’d already looked back at your computer screen to the conversation you were having with Advertising Manager Park who was basically frothing at the mouth at the idea of having The Byun Baekhyun, of the esteemed family Byun, whose fame and fortune preceded them all, working alongside one of their very own Senior Advertising executives. It wasn’t an assistant role. It wasn’t even working beside Chet as you had so threatened him with. It was something he would possibly even struggle with at first, but of course he would learn and he would adapt and then they had better watch out because he was going to outshine them all, you were sure of it.

“It’s nothing,” you said lamely and you rolled your eyes at how very silly you were acting after having been the very one to decide on this change.

“Noona, what mistake? What happened?” He repeated and he had left the open box behind as he made his way to stand behind your desk. He was looking curiously at your computer screen, clearly trying to decipher your cryptic words on his own since you weren’t offering up any clues.

His warm hand landed over your mouse hand and he bent at the waist to look at your computer as he moved your hand to move your mouse. You watched the side profile of his pretty face. His skin was clear and his lips were pink and pouty. You felt his fingertips land just between your own and he was clicking around your screen, quickly mouthing along as he was reading messages you had sent about his wonderful work ethic, sharp responsive wit, and charming social skills. You’d really sold it and his middle finger clicked against the scroll wheel a few times before he came up blank and turned his attention back to your face, lightly touching into your eyes with his dark brown questioning ones.

“I mean you,” you said with a small frown pulling at your lips. “What will I do without you here?”

His lips pushed down into a small frown and he blinked his brown eyes slowly at you. You knew that you had decided this for the both of you; without even asking him for alternative ideas first. Now the wheels were in motion on a steep hill and there was no way to stop it. He was leaving and it was your own damn fault.

“You’ll be fine,” he said softly. His thumb brushed comforting strokes over the back of your hand and his eyes traveled over your face before bouncing back into your eyes for the briefest moments and then he was very quickly looking away from your pouting face. He inhaled a breath and straightened out his spine, standing up and taking the close-up view of his pretty face with him. It only served to deepen the frown.

“Sunny will be good. You can trust me on this. I’ll always take care of you. Even from another department.”

“But she’s not you. No matter how good she is, she’s not my Assistant Byun.” You knew you were acting childish. Having laid down for just two minutes on the bed you’d made yourself and all of a sudden you had something to say about the quality of the sheets.

“You big baby,” he said under his breath with a little shake of his head. He’d already moved back to the big box he had been digging through and he left you to it; whatever this mood you’d brought on yourself was. You knew he didn’t feel any better about this but he seemed to have processed his disappointment already and had moved on to busying himself with the preparations for what was to come.

The afternoon progressed in much of the same manner. Your mood was shot and watching him buzz around you as busy as he was getting ready for the changes to come only made you feel it more.

When quitting time arrived you swallowed away the disappointment as best as you could, said a fond farewell to him, and watched him walk out the door of your office; one day closer to the last time you’d see him at work.

Your feet were dragging and you felt exhausted from the day as you made your way downstairs, through the large lobby beyond the security turnstiles and you’d made it halfway down the sidewalk walking in the direction of your bus stop when a sound pulled your attention from the street. There was a quick horn that beeped, and a flash of lights.

You knew him in an instant. His car wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. You’d stopped your steps when you heard the horn but a glance around you for witnesses kept you from immediately going up to the car.

There were a few odd stragglers still emerging from the building and you pointed with a finger around the corner just a little further from the entrance. You couldn’t see in due to the dark tint of his windows but you trusted he would be paying attention enough to catch your meaning.

You were walking now, headed in the opposite direction of your bus stop you quickly crossed a small street and as you walked you could hear the low rumble of that big engine as the car followed where you traveled. When you were satisfied with the distance you made your way for the passenger door, hearing the click as the locks disengaged the moment you put your hand on the door handle. You pulled that door open and you slipped inside.

You hadn’t expected this. You had fully intended to take the bus home and sit and stew in your crappy mood alone with maybe a pint of ice cream and some trashy romance playing on your tv.

Baekhyun didn’t immediately speak to you when you sat down in his passenger seat. All you got was a sweet smile before he pulled out into traffic, driving off toward who-knows-where. He was headed in the opposite direction of your apartment and your knowledge of the geography of this town told you that he wasn’t making a big ol loop to turn back around. Instead he seemed to be merging onto a freeway.

Your bad mood had vanished with that first smile he had given you and now that he was no longer looking at you, you leaned your head against the comfy headrest and watched his side profile as he drove. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips and he swallowed in a way that made his throat bounce up and down. His arm extended out with his left hand rested light on the top of the steering wheel and his eyes settled ahead as he watched the traffic ahead of him.

Somehow, you not knowing where he was taking you didn’t bug you at all. You simply settled into the seat with your shoulders angled just enough so you could watch him as he drove. It was amazing; how easily your mood had turned around. He could take you anywhere he wanted as long as you could look at his pretty face as he did it.

A change in the momentum of the car brought you out of the quiet trance. He had taken an exit, slowed the car, turned two or three times down some winding roads that weaved in between buildings and he drove down unfamiliar streets, all the while he kept his eyes carefully focused on the road until you could feel the itch of curiosity building inside of you.

The neighborhood felt old. His fancy car definitely looked out of place here and you noticed the occasional glance as very normal and regular people caught a glimpse of it from their busy street corners and tables set up outside of convenience stores.

He was signaling though and he then he was turning and when he pulled into a plain looking parking spot in front of what looked like a hole in the wall place whose signage boasted the simple kind of comfort food that you might expect to find on your grandmother’s table you followed his lead and unbuckled your seatbelt with wide eyes and that curious itch clawing against the backs of your teeth.

“We’re here,” he whispered cryptically with a disarming smile and a lift of his eyebrows.

“We are where?” You began to wonder if you had missed something. Had he actually told you what his plans were and you had been too distracted to listen to him? Baekhyun had the kind of voice that you could point out clearly in nearly any noisy room. Something about the sound of it made it nearly impossible for you to ignore even if you wanted to. There was no way you had missed him offering you an explanation for this.

His lips pulled wider.

“Let’s eat,” he said and you pushed at your door to step out onto the worn out pavement of this parking lot. There were some holes and some puddles from a recent rain shower that afternoon and you watched your step as you made your way around the front of his car where he stood and waited with his hand outstretched for you to join him.

The door had a bell on it that rang out noisily as the metal hit against the glass and you heard the sound of an old woman’s voice call out a greeting. The place was empty and it was tiny, with only three tables with four chairs each. You could smell something delicious coming from the kitchen and knowing what you knew about Baekhyun and his excellent judgment in all things, you were certain that you were in for something delicious..

“Welcome. Come in. Sit anywhere you—” Her standard greeting was interrupted as she peeked her head around a corner that separated the tiny dining area from the kitchen.

The woman burst around the corner, “Ahh! Baekhyun-ie, my baby boy! Come here!” She was closing in on him fast and the giggles that came from his chest as the old woman pulled him in tight for a full-body hug had you genuinely wondering who this woman was in his life to warrant such an enthusiastic and warm greeting.

When she released him from the tight embrace, she wasn’t done. You heard him say something that sounded a little bit like ‘Halmi,’ but it was mumbled from very deep down inside of her arms.

“It’s been too long. It’s been so long. Where have you been that you stayed away for so long?” Her hands lightly swatted over his shoulders with the little complaints she had. The affection between the two was obvious. She gripped both sides of his face tightly with her worn, wrinkly hands and it took only a few moments of her glistening eyes taking him in for the awareness of your presence beside him to suddenly dawn on her.

She looked at your face for the briefest moment before her wide eyes were back on him; looking into his face expectantly with everything about her body language relaying her unspoken questions.

Her eyebrows raised, her lips pushed into an O shape, and her mouth asked a silent ‘Who?’ She asked this of Baekhyun.

“Halmi—” the name he called her again although it felt like a term of endearment more than a familial relationship, “Mimi,” He’d taken the sweet nickname and made it even cuter before he continued, “this is my girlfriend.” His palm was up and extended in front of you as he said your first name with as wide a smile as you had seen on his face.

When his palm moved, the other joined in and he gestured toward the woman as he spoke quietly to you now, “This is Mimi. My nanny. She raised me since I was a baby — my whole life.”

As soon as the words were out, she was fussing. She gasped noisily with her eyes wide and her hands went to cover over her mouth. Just as quickly as she did that, she was reaching her hands out in your direction; reaching for your arms. Her hands traveled down to grasp tightly over both of your hands and she was smiling a wide grin in your direction. She was moving all over the place, trembling with genuine excitement before you. The happiness you felt radiating from her was contagious and you felt your own wide smile responding in kind.

“Oh my!” She gave you a wondrous smile. “Would you look at that?” She looked into your face with a curious expression of awe painted across her features. You didn’t really know how to respond to this. You’d never been received by a stranger with such enthusiasm before and you looked into Baekhyun’s smiling face with what you were sure was confusion and many questions, although hopefully, very well-hidden ones.

“You can call me Mimi too — silly boy, I’m not his grandmother but he’s called me that since he was a baby,” she said as she shook your hands up and down inside of her own. Her admission made you laugh, reminding you of how stubborn he was about calling you Noona when you had first met him. She had taken a step into you.

“Oh,” she lifted a hand up to touch over the side of your face and she looked deep inside of your eyes as she did it. She looked at you for what felt like ages and you could find nothing else to do but look back at the old woman. After a few breaths she was nodding her head as if she had understood something profound with that simple look into your eyes and that gentle touch upon your face.

You weren’t sure how one look could have done it, but you felt it in an instant. With this one introduction you had a complete and unfaltering understanding of how Baekhyun could be such a sweet and gentle human being who was kind and sensitive and so very beautiful on the inside.

It had been her.

She was why.

Everything about his unimaginable wealth and privilege should have had some sort of a detrimental effect on him, and try as hard as you could, you couldn’t quite understand how he was still so down to earth, so genuine, and how he felt so real. People with the kind of privilege that he had didn’t just turn out completely unaffected by it and yet Baekhyun had surprised you again and again with just how very good he seemed to be deep down inside.

With this meeting, you understood at once.

This woman had raised Baekhyun, her sweet and precious baby boy, with so much love. She had loved him completely and with her whole being and all at once you felt overwhelmed by it. You felt grateful to her and you felt awestruck in her presence. That overwhelming feeling, it rose up inside of your esophagus and you had to swallow it back down; sniffing through your nose as your breathing grew just a little bit constricted. You blinked your eyes rapidly to rein in the unexpected rise in emotions. If either of them noticed how suddenly affected you felt by this meeting, they didn't react.

She moved so quickly with it all. She was as intense as he was. You recognized an uncanny likeness between the two of them with the size of their giant personalities.

She was obviously very old and yet so full of energy. She was well in motion now. The shocked gasps from her lips quickly turned into more complaining as her hand rose up to lightly touch at the hair on her head and she let go of your hands to lightly smack Baekhyun on his arm, pulling a rough laugh from his chest. “Why didn’t you warn me? I look like this. She’s so pretty.”

“Where did you find such a pretty girl? She doesn't know how annoying you can be yet, does she?” The woman’s frantic fussing was winding down and turning into playful teasing. Baekhyun was still laughing as she seemed to be talking to herself while also steering him further inside the room with her hands on him, “Oh, well she’s going to find out soon enough. How did you trick her into it? A girlfriend! I can’t believe it.”

“How many years has it been? I told you to find a girl to love enough to bring her to me and now you’ve done it, my baby boy. Now I can go in peace. You have someone to love. My heart can rest.”

The significance of Baekhyun having brought you here today hit you harder and harder the more you listened to her talk. Just as he hadn’t warned her, he also didn’t say a thing to you about this. That same overwhelming feeling in your chest pulsed hot and it spread just under your skin, up your neck and face; making your eyes burn. You blinked again, willing yourself to breathe in and out slowly in some attempt to keep your emotions in check. Although if he had warned you about meeting the woman who raised him, you might not have so blindly climbed inside his car and let him take you wherever he wanted to take you without even so much as a question.

She didn’t care about your age. Or how much money your family had or your salary right now. She didn’t care about your position at work, the price tag of the designer bags you’d splurged on, or about how small of a dress size you could fit into.

She only cared that Baekhyun loved you and that was enough for her. You liked to imagine that one day that would also be enough for you.

She was steering him through the small room, hands gesturing to one of the tables, clearly instructing you both to sit down. You could feel in your bones that some food was about to come out. It was going to come out whether you asked for it or not and there was going to be a lot of it. This was a doting mother feeding her hungry child.

“Sit, sit. You’ll both be very hungry. I’ll bring out the food.” It didn’t sound like a survey of your hunger levels so much as it was a clear command, said with such authority that you quickly pulled out a chair and sat your butt down on it.

You were right about the food. There was too much of it and it was the kind of home-made comfort food that only came from someone who had been feeding someone that they loved for a lifetime. The rice, the stews, the dishes on the side, every single thing that touched your tongue felt familiar right down into your soul. You ate until you felt ready to burst and there was still so much of it left on the table.

You couldn't remember the last time you had such a comforting meal. Despite this not being your home and not being your family, everything about the experience felt like coming back home after having been away for much too long.

Even her nagging felt so comfortable. It all came from a place of love. She nagged him about visiting her more often and you quickly found yourself promising to come back again with him, even telling her that you would be sure to remind him when he had been away for too long. Strangely, you meant it too and his eyes watched you with such a fondness that you had to look away from the man just to keep your wits about you.

When the tables turned and it was Baekhyun’s turn to nag and scold his Mimi for continuing to work tirelessly, for not retiring on the money he had always deposited into her account, she was quick with a dismissive hand wave, saying that life wasn’t for her and if she stopped working she would drop dead and she had to see him get married before she left this Earth. You didn’t miss the small wink she shot at you behind his back when she said it and the entire exchange had your cheeks burning and you choked and coughed on the small glass of water you had been sipping on.

Baekhyun was stubborn and once he got started on a cause, he wouldn't quit. He insisted too much on her taking a vacation, or living the life of luxury he had clearly provided for her and she told him she would think about it as she reminded him of the time, explaining that she had to close up the shop and get to bed. It didn’t seem that late in the evening but he eventually gave up the fight anyway.

You were both promptly expelled and given several containers filled with food with well wishes from all sides and promises to see each other again soon.

Once everything was securely fastened inside the car and you were both seated well inside the car with the doors closing out the noise and the chaos from that visit, there was a moment before he started the engine when you both just sat in a kind of shell-shocked silence.

“Mimi might be the sweetest lady I’ve ever met in my life,” you said in a whisper and you heard a small chuckle escape from his chest.

“Well, she liked you,” he said as if that fact held some sort of reasoning for why you found her to be so lovely.

He reached forward and pressed the button that made his car engine roar to life, “don't let the sweet old lady act fool you. She can be downright nasty if she doesn't like someone. But you…of course she would like you. I knew she would like you.”

“How did you know?”

“Because I love you.”

He said it so casually as if anyone in the world could see it as plain as day as he reversed the car and headed off into a direction you could not give a name to even if you tried. You didn’t recognize any of these neighborhoods or street names.

“What are we going to do with all of this food? She always gives me so much,” He said with a glance in his rear view mirror, “I think I need to go home so I can put it away.”

His home — Baekhyun’s home.

You hadn’t been to his home yet. The opportunity simply had not presented itself with this relationship being just so very brand new.

“You don't have any reason why you need to be home in a hurry do you? We aren’t very far from my place.”

Not only had you not planned on this outing with him, you hadn’t actually made any plans for your evening at all. Maybe just something relaxing. Then maybe something soft and comfortable. It was all a vague and distant hypothetical that clearly didn’t have anywhere near the magnetism that spending a few more hours with this man had.

“Aside from a warm bath and a comfy bed, I hadn’t planned much for my evening at all.”

“I have a bath tub,” he said nearly under his breath and an amused giggle escaped from your lips.

“Ahh, and I bet your bed is very comfortable too,” you teased him playfully at first, but halfway through the sentence the back of your brain buzzed a noisy alert.

Making silly jokes about his bed as he was pulling his fancy car into the first level of a parking garage in one of the most exclusive parts of town on the very same day you and he had made a promise of abstinence was definitely on some unexplored list of No-Nos.

He parked and turned the engine off. The silence and stillness in this car was all at once overwhelming and Baekhyun had leaned forward with his arms folded over the steering wheel, resting his head on them as he turned to look at you from the driver’s seat. He hadn’t replied at all to your silly comment about his bed and the longer he stared at you quietly the more stifling the air inside this darkened car became.

Outside of the car, the garage was lit, but only just. Not enough for any fine definition to be visible in his features and the dark tint on these windows blocked out nearly everything else. You could still see enough of his face to know that he was still looking at you. You knew so much about the beauty of this man’s face to know exactly what had been building inside this closed up car the second he had turned that engine off. The silence magnified the sound of him. You could also hear his steady breathing and after a moment you heard a click as he reached a hand down and unfastened his seatbelt.

The next bits of motion from him were a dreamy haze. You felt him move closer to you. He was leaning over the center console into your space in this car and you heard the click of your own seat belt at the same moment that you felt his hand brush against your hip.

You smelled him moments before you felt the warm air from his mouth and you closed your eyes when you felt his soft lips press over yours. His lips parted and your own wandering fingertips reached up to touch the soft skin of his face. With your fingertips on him, every movement of his jaw as he opened his mouth felt that much more pronounced. Every tilt of his head and every gasp of breath from his lungs you felt them all magnified under your fingertips. His tongue was soft and wet against your own and the greedy drag he took from your lungs gave you no chance to recover from his needy mouth that only wanted more. When he pulled back he sucked your bottom lip deep into his mouth, the desire that flooded your veins had your fingertips constricting; wrapping around the nape of his neck; threading fingers into his hair — an unrestricted and unwavering desire filled your senses making you second guess your sanity when you proposed something as silly as a week without giving in to what both of you wanted from each other.

It was Baekhyun that pulled away from you first; with both of his hands cradling your face, you lost his lips first and with a huff and heavy breaths coming from your own lungs, he held you firmly in place with his forehead leaned up against yours as he begged his lungs to calm his breathing down.

When he finally spoke it was after you’d managed to pull your hands off of the smooth warmth of his skin and some bits of your sanity were beginning to return to your conscious mind.

“This much is okay, right?” His dark pupils were clearly visible from up close and they peppered over your face, touching lightly into your own eyes before the focus was lost and he leaned into you again, pressing his mouth over your parted lips again and all of the progress you had made in your recovery was gone.

“I want you,” he groaned into your open mouth, “you taste so sweet.”

He was insane.

It was not okay.

No. Baekhyun. This much wasn’t okay. You felt on fire.

You were not handling it very well, and when you threaded your fingertips in his hair behind his head you tightened the grip you had on his hair. Briefly and only for a moment, you felt just too overcome. You had lost his lips again. He had pulled away from you again, but you were much too overcome. Briefly and only for the scant few seconds it took for your lips to open up over the smooth warm skin of his neck and just below his ear you knew the perfect spot where this man had oftentimes driven you beyond the brink with his teeth. When you had simply lost your damn mind, and you let your teeth sink into the sensitive skin there, you were instantly rewarded with the sweetest and most addictive sound from deep within his body. It was a whimper. It was a moan. It was cursing and his hands were grabbing hold of your wandering hands roughly as he pushed, and held and forced your hands down and off of his body completely.

“Nope. It’s not okay. It’s too much. Fuck — fuck.” He was loud. A light flooded the cabin and you squinted against the sudden brightness, hearing the sound of his car door opening and he was gone in an instant. The change was so abrupt it brought you back into your mind. It only took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the increase in lighting and you could see him standing up in the space between his car and the open door.

You had gone overboard. You knew it then, he had a sensitive neck and with the current restrictions in your relationship, you should have just behaved yourself.

His hand motioned in your direction as he opened his fingers, closed them again and shook his hand out. He wasn’t speaking anymore, but you could taste much of the same frustration he was feeling on the back of your tongue.

“Should I just quit?” You heard him ask. “I should just quit. Right now. And then it doesn't matter what we do.” There was a tinge of hopeless humor in his voice. He was coming down from it and was trying to distract himself with sarcasm and jokes.

“You can't quit,” you answered the question he wasn’t actually asking you.

“Why can't I? I’m an adult.”

“Because I need you.” Your lips had pulled into a small pout when you spoke again, “I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

He had bent at the waist and his head appeared in the open space. He was looking at you with a curious expression.

“Let’s just try and make it through the week,” you said with as much of an apology in your voice as you could manage, “I’m sorry I bit you. I’ll behave myself, I promise.” You lifted a pinky finger in his direction and waved it but he didn’t move.

This had been your own idea. Your solution to the work issue that you knew would cause these kinds of challenges for you both, and you had been the first one to take it too far. The frown on your face was genuine. You were actually feeling just a little bad for losing yourself so easily with him.

He quietly stared at you and his lips hung as the tip of his tongue darted out to run over his front teeth before he bit down on his bottom lip and closed up his mouth.

“We should take the food inside,” he seemed to have regained his composure with the distance he put between your mouth and his neck and you nodded with what you hoped was a believably innocent of a smile on your face as you got out of the car, made your way around the front end to stand beside him with your arms outstretched, ready to help carry the load of Mimi’s food.

“So…” he began as he passed bundles of carefully tied containers into your waiting hands, “you’re going to be on your best behavior now?”

His tone sounded funny. Almost much too flirtatious for your shaky and new found self control to handle. You looked up into his face, noticing on the smirk you caught for just a split second.

He was walking now and you trailed behind him as you both reached an elevator. The journey felt like a maze. There were doors after doors all with locks that disengaged with something he kept in his pocket and all the while you hadn’t caught any glimpse of another soul. You’d expected to see others coming home from work perhaps or venturing out for dinner. You had noticed that the elevator down in the garage had next to nothing printed on it as elevators usually did and something about it looked extremely closed off, almost private.

“Where are your neighbors? Why is this place so empty?” It was honestly overwhelming just how different this felt from when you took the bus and got home from work.

He had reached another door and had pulled it open.

“I imagine they’re at their own homes. This is my home.” He said it with a shrug and your eyes widened.

“Yeah but the elevator, the other cars in the garage.” His eyes wandered and his feet kept moving as the space suddenly opened up into an enormous space that was very obviously an entryway to a grand home.

“Sorry,” he shook his head lightly and winced, “my cars in my garage. My elevator.”

Your eyes were wide with the shock of it. When you had first sat inside his car and you had been thrown off by the scale of this man but this felt like a completely different story. You clearly had no idea. This man was so out of the ordinary that you suddenly had no idea how to proceed with this new knowledge.

“For the record, I didn’t — ask for this estate. I didn’t pick it. I think it’s too big, too cold, too fucking empty. I kind of hate it most of the time.”

On his walls were what you were certain had to be priceless art works and you both passed a room that seemed to be entirely dedicated to showcasing some giant statue of a naked lady that stood illuminated in the very center of the otherwise empty room. The place felt like a museum. How did he even find his way around?

“I spend most of my time in my bedroom.” He said.

You’d taken some stairs down, not enough to be a full story but you both turned a corner and reached a kitchen with an enormous center island, more drawers and space that you could even think to be able to fill with stuff and he pressed a hand over one of the walls. To your surprise it opened. It was an enormous fridge.

He’d put the food away. You had yet to comment on any of the things you saw and all of this walking had made you dizzy. Baekhyun had turned away from the fridge wall and had grabbed both of your hands as he swung them lightly and dipped his face to catch your flighty eyes.

“Baby, why aren’t you saying anything?” He was smiling at you but there was some concern in his eyes as he did it. “Do you hate it here? Should I move? I’ll move if you hate it. I don’t like being so far away from you anyway.”

You could see the anxiety in his body language and his rambling told you that maybe part of the reason why you hadn’t had the opportunity to visit Baekhyun inside his home yet was because the man was apprehensive of showing all of this to you.

“I’m just…very surprised. It’s a lot, Baek.” You opted for honesty. It wasn’t that you hated it. You just suddenly felt so very small standing in here. “How do you find anything? Who is that naked lady in the other room and why does she get her own room to be naked in?”

Your genuine question pulled a loud laugh from his chest and he was pulled your arms against him now. He pulled you hard and your legs stumbled forward until you collided with his chest and he wrapped his strong arms tightly around your shoulders. You felt him tuck his face into your neck and he was giggling just a little bit.

“She came with the house. But yes that is her room. If you are jealous you can come and get naked in my room. Didn't you say you wanted a bath?”

You were laughing now. You did feel super overloaded when you first came inside this home but having his arms around you with his little jokes in your ear put your heart at ease. He was still your boyfriend. He was Baekhyun. Baekhyun happened to be a whole lot but at least you could count on his warm strong arms and his disarming jokes and even more disarming smile.

“Take me to your room because I want to see it. But I’m keeping my clothes on.”

He was pulling on your arm as he walked backwards. There were some more steps, this time they went up and they led to a hallway that turned a corner. He turned to walk forward with occasional glances at you as he moved and at last he had stopped in front of a pair of closed double doors.

“I have a picture of you next to my bed. Don’t freak out. I just like looking at you when I wake up. And you won’t let me come live with you. A man’s gotta survive…”

“A what? Where did you—”

He had opened the door and inside was a much more comforting feeling space than you had seen in any other room you’d passed by. Of course it was huge, but despite its large size felt so much more livable and real than most of the rest of the home. The bedroom itself felt more like it’s own studio apartment with occasional nooks for a small library and desk, another nook for a gaming computer and a wrap-around sofa with a large tv mounted on the wall.

“Ahhh,” you said suddenly understanding. This... this was his home. This space was entirely his. This place with the pop culture artwork on the walls, the big bed that sat on the other side behind a glass partition, “Now this feels like your place.”

Your legs carried you to his bed and you couldn’t help yourself with the way you threw your body down, moaning out in delight at the incredible way his soft mattress hugged your body. The bed felt incredible. You turned your head and facing you was an image of your own smiling face in a small frame that stood on his nightstand beside the hexagonal shaped table lamp you had seen in the video call.

You reached for the frame and tried to recall when he must have snapped this picture. But the season didn’t match for when you both had started dating. This wasn’t recent. No, he took this picture of you long before that. You recognized that the last time you wore that coat was last spring when the last late cold snap blew through; right before the oppressive summer heat took over.

How long had this man been keeping his crush a secret from you and how many other photos had he snapped of your silly smiling face without you even noticing.

You felt the bed dip behind you and the warmth of his arms encased you. His fingers reached out and he grabbed the frame from your hand, pulling it gently out of your fingers so he could place it back in its spot on his nightstand.

His fingertips brushed up the length of your extended arm slowly and traveled up your shoulder to move your hair out of the way for his lips. You felt him breathing here and your eyes seemed to close on their own when you felt the pull of air he inhaled from beside your ear.

“Do you want to take a bath with me?”

“Naked?” Your own voice took on a panicky sounding lift when you stupidly responded to his question.

“Do you usually wear clothes in the bathtub?” He trailed his index finger lightly along your jawline. All at once you knew you were in some danger here laying in this bed beside this man who clearly had not learned a damn thing from what happened in the car earlier.

“Isn’t that dangerous, Baekhyun? I don't seem to have enough self control to be around you even with clothes on.”

You felt the hot exhale from his lungs. A long deep sigh that sounded very much like deep disappointment of a man who was still very affected by the closeness with you.

“Tell me again why I can't quit tonight.” You found his tone curious. His words did not lift at the end as you expected this sort of question would.

“You know already,” you whispered, opening your eyes back up as you tried to ignore the way his fingertips felt brushing against your skin.

“Tell me again though.”

Now you understood why it didn’t sound like he was asking you a question. It wasn’t one. He knew what you had told him and he wanted to hear it from you again.

“I need you. I’m not ready to let you go.” The danger you felt with this multiplied when you said it.

His fingertips were joined by more digits and he touched your face so lightly with his hand, “Again,” he whispered.

You turned your head and you said it again, “I need you.”

You turned your shoulders around and you were spinning on this bed turning your entire self around so you could wrap your arms around his waist and you tucked your face into his chest.

“I need you. I need you and I love you. ” you said again and again and again as you wiggled your forehead against him with the repeated words that he wanted to hear from you. You felt the rumbles inside his chest and he was giggling as he wrapped you up tightly within his arms.

“Okay,” he said over your head, “then I’ll be the strong one. Just stay like this with me tonight. Just let me hold you and it’s enough. It’s enough.”

[To Be Continued]

Links: Part 1, …. Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

[stargirlrchive]

things i wish you said ✩ tsu’tey

masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: tsu’tey x reader, sad sad sad >:( , stream things i wish you said by sabrina carpenter <3 + wc: 444

comments: i was in a silly goofy mood + lowkey nervous cause i have not posted in like a week, sorry >:( love you all! bye! <333

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Every time your mind lingered to Tsu’tey you couldn't help but wish that your name alone caused him to flinch. To know that he mourned the loss of your relationship just as you had, but the permanent smile etched onto his face proved that lingering thought to be unlikely. The more you watched him, the harder it was to push back the tears that were burning your eyes, your throat felt dry, thick with sadness as you excused yourself from your group of friends.

The gnawing feeling of melancholy encompassed your whole body as tears blurred your vision as you made it farther away from the clan and deeper into the forest. It was a cycle you had been unable to break since the two of you had parted.

You’d dwell over the way his hands felt on you, the way he smelled of fresh grass, and that stupid smile that he reserved only for you. Then your pride cracked a bit as you contemplated running into his arms, kissing him to ease the sadness that never left. But the worst part of your turmoil was this, when you let your thoughts run wild. Wishing he’d meet you in the forest and spill his heart out to you.

That he’d start out by apologizing, telling you how he still did things with you in mind. Like packing extra bows, or fruits for a day of training. How people did not understand him, or his sense of humor. That he missed the way you were the only one who laughed when he cracked a joke because everyone else was too shocked by his personality shining through, but your head was always dipped back, letting him know just how funny you thought he was.

That he would apologize for not understanding why certain things he would do would upset you. Like when his loyalty to the clan came above all else, even you. Like when he promised he would finally introduce himself properly to your family, but he lost himself in training with the other warriors. You waited hours for him to show up, and when he did he couldn't understand why you were crying. Or why it upset you so much.

You wished he would tell you that when the rumors of your courtship with one of the clan warriors began to sprout, it caused him to recoil in agony. That he burned with jealousy because he had been unable to even look at someone else, much less love them.

But it was pointless and you were wasting away your nights on such idiotic things.

Wasting your time on things he would never say to you.

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[nonvaleantredeo]

Marius de Romanus Appreciation Week, day 7

Prompt: My independence, which is my strength, implies loneliness, which is my weakness (P. P. Pasolini) The poet Gallus dreaming (L. A. Tadema)

In the final day I present the most difficult (for me) piece, the Grave of Loneliness, that was named after the Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall

This sonet needs a little excurs in Russian philosophy that I placed under it, please read it after sonet, it'll add another sence to the text

~The Grave of Loneliness~

I will be lonely for eternity, perhaps, more or a less

And heart of mine will turn into a mystery for everyone

But pain of hesitation gnaws the soul so deep and permanently

Melancholy and heartburn are my deadly sins garland

Won’t witness joyful amusements of my resemblings

And suffering of martyrdom in fullness eke

Bewitched by unknown goddamn armor piece

Will cover with a cerement vampire hearse

Through hundreds years voice desolated will awake

The shadow, ancient ghost is modern bogochelovek (emphasis is marked, read the caption)

Sepulcher song, litania of him – the voice of God

Not long enough last getaway from ell to heaven

The tremble of a grave catch him so far away

Conclude in ice of underground poet’s soul

Based on the Θεάνθρωπος or the Theanthropos term, bogochelovek is the essential part of Russian religious philosophy, that were invented (in sociocultural environment) by the V. S. Soloviev in 1878 in the work called «Lectures on a God-like-humankind». Basically, it’s a studies on a modern to him culture that leads (and now we know he’s right) people to self-destruction, and only work on culture can turn humankind to the direction of God-like-humankind, where everyone will be teacher to themselves, will work for the peace, wisdom and beauty in the word like the first Theanthropos – Jesus.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 14: Lily's Hard Work

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: captivity, mind control

Oliver looked up from his book as the streetlights outside his shop window flickered on one by one, the uncharacteristically warm fall day turning into a balmy evening. The scene in front of him seemed blurry and indistinct, and he couldn't read the words on the pages of his book.

Before he could feel distress, the silver bell above his door rang, and Alexander, one of his favorite patrons, was in front of his counter, his blue eyes piercing into Oliver's soul. Oliver froze on the spot, unable to move. He knew exactly what Alexander was now. And he knew exactly what was going to happen.

"What can I help you with, sir?" he said, keeping his voice soft, fighting the instinctual urge to bow his head, to kneel, to show how perfectly obedient he could be in the presence of a vampire.

"You already know." Alexander was leaning in close, and Oliver felt as though he might collapse on the spot if it weren't for the vampire's gaze keeping him still and docile. The tension was growing, becoming unbearable, when --

He opened his eyes.

He was laying comfortably on the soft leather chair in Miss Lily's office. He felt better than he'd had in days, months even, like he'd been on a long, relaxing vacation. And most distinctively, he felt like himself in some intangible way he didn't fully understand. He didn't feel dazed or hypnotized or like a mindless robot. He felt like himself, a better version of himself.

"Did you have a nice dream?" she asked with amusement.

"Very much so, sir," he said, a tad embarrassed. He wondered if he'd even ever see Alexander again. He wondered if he'd ever see -- "May I please ask you a question, sir?"

"Go right ahead."

"I apologize if this is impertinent, sir, but my bookshop -- what has come of it?" A twinge of melancholy broke through his feelings of contentment.

"You have nothing at all to worry about, dear. We locked it up after you. We'll take good care of it while you're away." She ruffled his hair affectionately. "Your bookshop can remain a very good memory for you. Otherwise, you can quiet your mind about it, can't you? Nice and quiet."

Oliver felt a stir of anxiety before calm washed over him. "Yes, sir, I can. Thank you for taking care of my bookshop."

"Of course, no trouble at all!" she said cheerfully. "How are you feeling otherwise?"

"Better than ever, sir, thank you."

"You're very welcome!" She was pleased, and he was pleased that she was pleased. "Now, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, sir."

She took one of his hands and gently stroked it while maintaining eye contact with him, Oliver more than happy to fall into her eyes. "When I came to your cell for the blood grading, you were less enthralled than I expected you to be, given how well you responded the previous day. Why do you suppose that was?"

"Oh! My neighbor, Emily, was trying to snap me out of your hypnosis, sir," he said easily, eager to be of help. "She's very frightened of you, you see. But I'm sure she means nothing by it. I was frightened, too, until you helped me."

"Ah, I thought it was something like that. Thank you for telling me," she said. "You're not going to have to worry about that ever again. I'm sure your conditioning is buried too deep. You have no desire to resist, yes?"

Oliver blinked, dazed a bit by the recital of one of his mantras. "No, sir, I have no desire to resist."

"That one should take permanently this time. And when you return to your cells, you can tell Emily all about how nice your experience was. Tell her I'll be inducting her very soon now."

"Yes, sir." Emily wouldn't like that at all, but it wasn't as if any of them had a choice in the matter.

"Now, then, I have other business to attend to, and it's almost time for dinner for the humans," Miss Lily said, getting  to her feet. "But you've been such a good thrall -- would you like a nice, hot shower before your dinner? I know it's been several days."

"Yes, sir, that sounds lovely."

"I brought you something clean to wear, too, something you're going to love." She picked up and unrolled a garment made of pure white cotton. It was a simple kind of frock, with a very wide neck and a skirt that widened at the bottom like a bell. "What do you think?"

"It's very nice, sir," he said, unable to hide his confusion, "but I've never worn a dress before."

"Clothing like this is traditional for thralls," she said. "See how the deep boat neck exposes your vulnerable skin?" She was staring hungrily at the spot where she'd feinted drinking from him earlier.

He felt that creeping submission, the desire to let vampires feed, and any misgivings about the garment flew out the window, his head still spun from Miss Lily's mesmerism. He took the soft dress, ran his hand over it. "Thank you, sir."

"It will suit you," she said, motioning him out the door and down the hall. "And here's fresh stockings and underwear, as well."

Oliver fell comfortably into step behind Miss Lily as they walked down the hall. "Here's the shower room," she said. "Feel free to use the soap and towels you need. Once you're finished and dressed, the cells will be down to the end of the hall, to the left, and through the metal double doors. The guard will let you in."

"You're not going to accompany me, sir?" he said, surprised.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I trust you."

He felt a swell of pride mixed with a dash of confusion. Why was she trusting him so much? Was he really so hypnotized that there was no chance he would do anything against the vampires? He strongly suspected he was. He expected to be more upset about this, or more dazed, not this strange disassociated feeling like he was observing himself from afar.

The showers were the same one where he'd been cleaned at the start of his captivity, and Oliver couldn't help but look at the locking device on the wall where he'd been handcuffed. Thank goodness that wasn't necessary any more. No, he had no desire to try and escape whatsoever.

After a few days in the cells, the warm shower felt heavenly against his skin. He took a fat pink bar of soap and scrubbed to his heart's content, savoring it. After all, this was a privilege Miss Lily had given him, so it'd be downright wrong to not enjoy it to its fullest. He self-indulgently wrapped himself in several fluffy towels, luxuriating in the feeling against his skin, before remembering that he should make it back to his cell in time for dinner.

With a bit of trepidation, he pulled the soft white frock over his head. It was comfortable and fit well, no doubt thanks to the measurements they had taken when he'd first arrived. If only he had a mirror to view himself. It was certainly unusual for him to be wearing a dress, but very little about this situation was usual.

He touched the spot on his neck where Miss Lily had nearly touched, the spot his future master might drink from. His blood, his being, were desirable. Some part of him that ran deeper than a vampire's spell couldn't help but like the idea of being wanted.

Exiting out into the hall, he remembered Miss Lily's directions, but couldn't help but cast a glance in the opposite direction. He was testing his own mind, trying to figure out what had been implanted in him. He deliberately forced himself to think of escaping, and found that it tightened his chest with anxiety. Not only would he never make it past the vampire guards, but he'd shame himself, jeopardize his new place in life. 

So that was it, that was how his thoughts had shifted. That wasn't so bad.

His feet made soft padded sounds as he walked down the hallway's wood floor in his socks, and the frock swished pleasingly around his knees. A quick nod to the vampires guarding the line of cells had him inside the prison again, glancing around at the other occupants. There were quite a few more staring blankly into space now, and only a few still eying him warily.

Miss Lily hadn't wiped his mind. He was still able to reason.

He was very, very fortunate.

Part Thirteen >> Masterlist >> Part Fifteen

Thank you for once again reading about Oliver.

Tag list - please note if you'd like to be added

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn

[jomeimei421]

hi do you have any more fic recs?? ive read everything you already recommended in the last post and i am Terrible at finding fics myself-

why yes indeed i do <(:]) spoilers for all of ORV under the cut! Here is a link to my other fic rec post for those who haven't seen it yet.

Mei's ORV Fic Recs 2: Electric Boogaloo

Looking for Yoo Joonghyuk by Je_te_veux

GEN, written for YJH's birthday. A canon compliant exploration of YJH's search to find the answers to who he is and what he should live for. Takes place during the epilogue. Again, JTV is a Chinese author so you will need to read their fics with material translation, but their writing is remarkable! I'm especially fond of the way they wrote YJH and Anna Croft, and also, I have a soft spot for things where YJH (who has had to carry the enormous burden of the Story for so long) finally gets to do some reading and writing of his own.

Love & Affection Do (Not) a Cat Make by featherx

Sangsoo, with a side of Joongdok. The misadventures of HSY (cat) and YJH (cat???). I have a special spot in my heart for this fic because cat HSY is written so hysterically well it has permanently affected my own characterization of HSY. Funny, charming, cute, but as with all things orv, has a very sweet and sad undertone.

Great Escapes by wyrvel

JDJ. YJH attempts to confess. KDJ does not make things easy for him. The calling card of a great jdj confession fic is a tasteful amount of KDJ brand tomfoolery, just enough to make you want to grab him and shake him like maracas. This fic accomplishes that with flying colors. It's written from YJH's pov, but you can just feel the gears turning and steam puffing out of KDJ's head. Op understands babygirl YJH. As a warning, this is the first part of a three fic series, the other two are NSFW.

Only I know how this show will end! by ineedacatchyname

YHK. Our favorite toxic polycule, now on live tv! A truly tremendous Love Island AU fic. My absolute favorite thing about this fic is that every time a character is introduced, there's a cutaway to their Love Island Love Interest Self Introduction Sexy Beach Montage Reel written in the style of a TV film script and every last one of them had me crying real tears. YSA is also excellent in this fic.

World's End Rhapsody by wakerife

JDJ, with a side of Sangsoo. This was one of the first orv fics I read, before I started bookmarking them; there's a really sweet scene of YJH reading that I couldn't get out of my head so I went on a hunt to find this fic again by searching through every single ORV fic tagged with "post-canon." A collection of KDJ recovery snippets, punctuated by some heartfelt jdj.

At Sea by ksalientian

YHK. The dead return from the sea, including KDJ. He doesn't come back exactly how they remember. Eerie, melancholy, and permeated with slow, enormous loss. There are some horror like elements in this fic, but it's more psychological than something that might make you squeamish. Yoohan are going through it. Fantastic fic!

I don't want to fall asleep just yet by featherx

GEN. Pre-canon. There's a ghost that lives inside of HSY's house. A short character study on the loneliness of a writer.

A New Story Written by pyrrhura

YHK. KDJ worries in the middle of the night about being responsible for a new story, and about being a father. Or, three idiots and baby. I love fics where yhk get their blissfully mundane happy ending, but op doesn't confuse that with forgetting the traumas and hardships of the past. Love the banter in this fic, and the way they just lean on one another without even thinking. As a warning, there are discussions of unplanned pregnancy in this.

Ain't Nobody Solving That Declining Birth Rate by dulcetair

YHK. KDJ is fresh out of a coma (broke) and YJH is a former terrorist (also broke.) The post-scenario government issues a cash incentive for people to get married. Or, the gang commits marriage fraud! Features YJH wearing a apron that says grillmaster on it. I was already a firm believer in YHK getting married for """tax benefits""" because it makes things easier for KDJ who is too embarrassed to admit anything otherwise, but the idea of HSY using Avatars to game the system and buy a three story house just for funsies is also incredibly in character.

What the Living Do by younglegends

GEN. Snapshots of mourning, loving, and longing from various KCom members' points of view. The chronological events of this fic are backwards, which makes for an interesting read. Younglegends hasn't written a lot of ORV stuff yet, but the two fics that they have so far are both downright phenomenal, and some of the best work I've seen in this community. They are also the author of the fic that I refused to spoil in the previous orv fic rec. Also, their YSA characterization is perfect.

That's all for now! Enjoy!

[skepsiss]

Long Road Ahead - pt1

Pining after the events of the Upside Down. It’s sort of melancholy, but isn’t pining just the best background for when they do eventually confess to one another? Tw: Mention of long hospitalization, permanent injury and mobility issues. Joking/dramatic use of the term suicide. 3,000 words. Steve’s POV.

Pt1.2 Pt2 Pt3

--

"Steve!" Eddie hollered from the room. Steve sighed lightly, drying his hands off and walking back into his bedroom to see Eddie lounging across his bed, poking through a magazine. "I'm bored man, are we still going out, or what?" Things had been like this all summer. After the Upside Down, after everything over Spring break, normality had been hard to come by. Eventually, the weather had parted and a true Indiana summer had rolled into town. Despite that, Eddie was still wearing his heavy leather jacket with cut-off jeans so you could see his calves and half a pink scar on his leg. It still looked angry, and Steve knew Eddie didn't have the same mobility he had before. My arms and hands are good, so I can't complain, he had said as the scar tissue had formed on his neck and abdomen. He didn't have a full range of motion, and he looked awkward when he ran now, Steve only hoped that with time that too would pass. He had lost a lot of muscle in the attack, not only from the injury itself, but the healing process too, it was a miracle he had lived. Steve had only seen the worst of the scars on his chest once while he had visited at the hospital, Eddie had covered it quickly and had tried not to act bashful about it. They're badass, he had offered to the kids, complaining but also insisting that it wasn't a big deal. He wanted sympathy, not pity, so Steve hadn't said anything. But it was summer now, and Eddie was out of the hospital, he had left early in fact because the bills were outrageous and there was no way the Munsons could pay for it. His time at the hospital had at least given the town time to calm down and let him beat the murder charges. The FBI had taken on the case at the behest of the Hawkins Police Department, and Steve knew how that went. Everything was solved and everything was given an explanation, just stupid kids taking drugs laced with Botox or something like that, claims that it made the muscles so tight that Chrissy's limbs had snapped on their own. People in town still didn't like Eddie, but he was a free man.

Steve walked around the edge of his own bed and to the window, opening it to let some of the cool air in. He was hanging out with Eddie today much the same as he had the last few months. He wasn't sure why really, but Eddie had always seemed happy to see him when he visited at the hospital so he had come by often. It had only been natural that once he was out Steve had gone to see him at the new trailer as well. Today, Eddie was visiting him. He had shown up at his door, the trailer park only a short walk through the back woods to Steve's backyard, and he had sheepishly asked if his parents were home before barging in. Steve didn't mind really, but seeing Eddie all the time was wearing on him. At first, hanging out seemed normal; they were both guys around the same age that had lived through hell and back again. Jonathan had gone back to California to finish school, and as much as Steve loved the twerps, Nancy and Robin, there was something different about hanging out with another guy. Things felt less guarded, less personal, easier somehow but that ease had shifted slowly over the months. He liked being around Eddie, he enjoyed his company, but it felt forced somehow, a heavy feeling sitting in his stomach when Eddie was around.  A pit formed in his gut now too as he turned and watched Eddie roll onto his back, staring straight up at the ceiling with his arms spread. He sighed dramatically and Steve kept a straight face as he watched Eddie's hair splay out around his head and his shirt ride up just a little bit to reveal the scar tissue on his hip. "It's hot," Eddie complained, and Steve couldn't help but scoff. He turned as Eddie rolled his head back to look at him, giving him an upside-down expression as his bangs fell out of his face. "Take your jacket off then," Steve scolded lightly, walking over to his desk. 
Eddie laughed at him and rolled over, propping his chin in his hands. Steve tried to ignore that his pose was too familiar... too casual.  "Nawh, I'm good," Eddie said cheerfully, not motioning to get up. Despite his complaining, Steve had assumed Eddie had actually needed a break from walking over. It was good Eddie was up and moving, but his hips and his legs gave him trouble if he went long distances. Steve hadn't mentioned it.  "You're going to give yourself heatstroke," Steve said in passing, picking his wallet and keys up off his desk. "No I won't," Eddie retorted, whining as if Steve was being dramatic. "Oh?" Steve asked, leaning against the desk in his room, not rushing Eddie, "so wearing 15 pounds of leather when it's 96 degrees outside is what... a fetish or something?" Eddie blinked at him and then laughed, maybe a bit too hard as Steve crossed his arms and stared at him. His humour had gotten a bit more sexual since hanging out with Eddie, no longer having to hold back comments because he was hanging out with children. This was the type of stuff Eddie liked to joke about, the ribbing he enjoyed, and Steve liked it when he made Eddie laugh. "It's like my whole look," Eddie said with a chuckle, still laying across Steve's bed with his chin in his hand. Steve hated that he thought he looked cute like that. "You should try seasonal looks," Steve offered, standing up from his leaning position and gesturing to his own outfit. "You should try it sometime, you can stay alive and be comfortable." Steve cringed slightly at his own comment, his stomach flopping at the phrasing he had used. Stay alive. He hadn't meant to joke about dying and he didn't want that to dwell on Eddie's mind. "No offence," Eddie retorted, "but I'd sooner kill myself than wear a polo shirt." Eddie was smiling still and Steve was grateful for that, even if it had been at the expense of his own dignity. He watched as Eddie shifted to sit on his knees, sighing and fanning himself with the collar of his jacket. He muttered a quiet, 'Jesus' under his breath, the heat obviously getting to him. "Seriously man," Steve scolded lightly, "I don't want to go out and have you like faint." Eddie scoffed, looking a bit uncomfortable as he made a motion and lifted the front of his jacket, looking at his arm. It had been a quick expression, but Steve had caught it. It wasn't a discomfort because of the heat, it was a concerned look, an insecurity. "No, I'm fine," Eddie replied, his tone still cheerful even if it had dropped off a bit. He had to be sweating like a pig in that thing and Steve didn't understand why he insisted he keep the coat on. Eddie often complained about being cold--he was skinny as a twig, there was no wonder there--but in this kind of weather a jacket like that was suicide. "Alright fine, have it your way." Steve sighed, walking over to the door as he twirled his keys on his finger, half tossing them and catching them in his fist again. "You know you can totally ruin leather with sweat, yeah?" Steve commented idly, not really meaning to twist the knife. He heard Eddie scoff again and then silence drew out. He turned his back to Eddie, walking out towards the hall. Something heavy hit Steve in the back of his head and he half stumbled before turning around, Eddie's coat at his feet. "Fine man, stop bitching about it." Eddie was saying, his tone light despite there being an edge of... something in his voice. Steve looked from the coat to Eddie sitting on his bed, fidgeting a bit in an oversized T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. His arms were exposed and Steve could see his tattoos... and the scars that were scattered across his skin. Steve pulled in a quiet breath, noting that Eddie wasn't looking at him, picking at his nail polish instead and subconsciously tugging on the collar of his shirt, pulling it up slightly to help cover the scar on his neck. Steve looked away, bending down to pick up his jacket without saying anything. He heard Eddie stand up from the bed and he glanced at him. Eddie's posture was awkward, despite the fact that he seemed to be trying to pretend he was fine. "We going or what?" Eddie asked, still not looking at him as he stuffed his hands in his front pockets. Steve half-folded the jacket over his arm and pretended not to notice. He handed the coat to him before turning and walking out into the hallway. "Yeah, where do you want to go?" Steve asked, leading the way downstairs and trying his best to act nonchalant. Eddie stayed in pace behind him and Steve tried not to look back at him too much. The air of discomfort was still fading though as Eddie's energy returned. "Ice cream?" He teased and Steve rolled his eyes at him. He laughed about it and Steve hid a private smile. Eddie was a skinny dude, and maybe it was bad that before Steve had noted the tattoos and the scars he had thought about Eddie's frame. Noted the lean muscles of his arms from dragging amps and guitars around, skinning kid shoulders that peaked out from the edges of his cut-up shirt. He understood why now Eddie had insisted he wear his jacket despite the weather, why he had suffered the last few weeks as the air got hotter. He still didn't want people looking at him with pity because of his scars. "If you don't mind driving a bit we can head out of town," Steve offered, trying to think of where they should go. He wanted to offer to take them somewhere they could hang out inside, where there was AC and Eddie could put his coat back on. "Oh, Mr. Fancy," Eddie was teasing as Steve walked them to the garage, hitting the button to the garage to let the sun in. Where was there AC? Malls. Libraries. Museums. "You want to go to the like dinosaur museum or something?" Steve asked, feeling his cheeks flush a bit at the suggestion. "What?" Eddie asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Seriously dude? That's in like Crown Hill 3 hours away. The children's museum?" "I don't know, I'm just spitballing here." Steve offered, slightly relieved to hear a little chuckle from Eddie. "It'd be faster to drive to Louisville," Eddie teased, opening the door to the F-series and sliding into the passenger's seat. Steve got in after him, starting the car and turning the radio on to static. He'd let Eddie choose the station, he didn't care if he put on metal. "You want to drive to Kentucky then?" Steve asked, looking over his shoulder as he pulled out of the garage. "What?" Eddie asked again, sounding surprised as he buckled in and started fiddling with the radio dial. "Louisville, Kentucky. Do you want to go?" He glanced at Eddie out of the corner of his eye, catching the completely baffled expression on the brunette's face. "You want to... take me to Louisville?" Eddie asked, the tease leaving his voice as he stared at Steve. Steve tried to shrug, rummaging through the center console and clicking the automatic garage door closer. "Why not? It's closer. We could check out the mall or something?" "And what? You pay for all the gas and everything we’d get there?" Eddie teased gently, obviously not meaning anything by it. Steve shrugged, not catching the insincerity in Eddie's voice. "Sure, why not?" Eddie didn't say anything for a moment and the car filled with static radio as Steve assumed he was just being stared at. Eddie laughed eventually, twisting the dial and then sitting back in his seat as quiet rock music started to filter into the car. "You ever think about getting a tattoo?" Eddie asked, and Steve could hear the grin in his voice.

 He turned and looked at Eddie, blinking at him and feeling his stomach swoop at the cheeky look on his face. "No," Steve answered honestly, and Eddie laughed, leaning on the armrest of the car and looking out the window. "I'd rather get a tattoo with the money you'd be wasting on gas and whatever trinket you're thinking of buying me." Steve held back the blush on his cheeks, focusing on the road instead. He hadn't intended to buy Eddie a trinket or whatever, but the way he had said it made it sound like Steve was looking to buy him a ring or something. "I want more tattoos, obviously," Eddie was continuing to talk and Steve shook himself from his spiralling thoughts. "Cover up some of these scars...." Steve glanced at Eddie as he said the last bit, noting that he was still looking out the window and appearing a bit wistful as he rubbed at the leather on the door. Steve's chest tightened as he watched Eddie, trying to pay attention to the road still as they drove. He hadn't realized just how insecure Eddie was about his scars. He had noticed that Eddie was uncomfortable with them, and he hadn't said anything, but to this extent... it made sense. Eddie already had tattoos, an easier way to cover up scars was with tattoos rather than winter jackets. "We can go get tattoos," Steve offered, quickly correcting himself, "you can get a tattoo. I'm not getting one." He tried to make his tone light, and jokey while still genuinely offering the experience.  Eddie scoffed, Steve's genuine offer lost on him. "Nawh man, summer is the worst time to get a tattoo, plus I don't have the money for it." Steve hardly hesitated in his response, already correcting his driving as he started a new course to an out-of-town location. He hadn't memorized where the tattoo parlours were, but he was sure they could find one easily enough. "I'll pay for it," Steve offered. He shrugged, trying to look casual. "No, man," Eddie scoffed again and sat back in his seat. He subconsciously scratched at a scar again, and Steve noticed. "Seriously," Steve tried again, turning the AC up in the car. "Seriously," Eddie mocked, not looking at him. "I don't need you paying for my crap, man." A silence washed over the car again and Steve glanced at Eddie. He could see the annoyed and crestfallen expression on his face. He looked uncomfortable. Steve sighed. "I'd rather pay for a tattoo," Steve said quietly, not looking at the other, "than see you wear that jacket all summer." It was a pointed comment and Steve could see Eddie squirming out of the corner of his eye. Taking charity wasn't an easy thing, and Steve didn't want to push it, but he was being honest. Money was money... he didn't mind using it for a real cause. If Eddie was going to be more comfortable in his own skin, Steve didn't care if he was spending money on a tattoo or not. "Just tell me where to go, man," Steve offered, not making Eddie verbally accept the offer. He didn't have to say yes or thank you, the goal wasn't to degrade him. Eddie hesitated, and Steve thought that for a moment he was going to say no again and leave it at that. But he spoke, his voice coming out weakly. "Just head towards the Indianapolis marker, we can pull off at Whitecrest." Steve nodded, not making a big deal of it at all as he rerouted. The silence drew out again, the radio DJ speaking quietly in the background as Steve drove the freeway. "What do you think you'll get?" Steve asked, not sure exactly how the tattoo process worked.     
 Eddie shrugged and there was silence for a while again. Steve could see him picking his nail polish. Steve tried not to say anything about that. He didn't want little black paint flecks in his car. He'd have to vacuum. "Been thinking for a while," Eddie said, his voice quiet still, "I'll see what they have as flash tattoos, but it'd be cool to get something classic. Like a dagger or whatever. See if they could spruce it up. Maybe a coffin or something like that, heavy ink it to uh... cover more skin. Get the band's logo on it." His tone picked up a bit the more he talked, and Steve tried to nod along. He didn't know what a flash tattoo was, but he tried to follow the trajectory of whatever Eddie was talking about. "You ever think about getting a guitar?" Steve asked, trying to contribute to the conversation, "your guitar?" "The Warlock?" Eddie asked, looking over at him. "The what?" Eddie laughed and Steve felt his chest flutter at that, the tension slowly easing out of the car. "The Warlock man, that's the guitar." Steve nodded slowly and got another laugh from Eddie, this one sounding more genuine. "It's like the brand man, like your car is a BMW, no well, that's the maker. Your like car model, Warlock is the model of guitar." Eddie started ranting, rolling through his explanation and veering off on a tangent about the various musicians who had played the same guitar. Steve peppered in questions here and there, trying to listen while he focused on the road. He didn't know anything about music and he didn't pretend to, just listening to the way Eddie spoke and how slowly that discomfort eased from him as he yammered on and on about his interest. It made Steve smile, the rumble of the freeway under his feet, and the promise that Eddie was going to finish this day better than it had started.
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