#they both clashed together in a beautiful symphony when i met the love of my life

[strayfreckles]

all on you.

☕︎︎ hwang hyunjin x reader (ft. ryujin, felix, & yeji); highschool au, friends-to-lovers au, barista au, bulletpoint fic.

maybe you would’ve gotten out of highschool with your emotions (and pride) unscathed if it weren’t for hwang hyunjin and his so-called romantic, obnoxious—and, in your case, unfortunately effective—antics.

includes: fluff, angst (especially in the middle), mutual pining, somewhat slow burn (?), gn!reader, barista!reader, a hefty amount of swearing, the only consistent thing you’ll see here is how utterly terrible this is, fluctuating humor

notes: this was requested by a wonderful anon! before you dive in, i’d like to inform you that this is my first fic of any kind, so please tread gently 😔✋ though constructive criticism is appreciated !! hope you enjoy (and hopefully not cringe too much sdkdnkdks) <33

wordcount: 2.8k

let me be the first to say that you absolutely abhor romance films with every existing fiber and cell in your body.

like, you cannot physically withstand the atrocity that is occurring right before your very eyes and you have to tear your gaze away before you bash your head to the nearest table.

and though you do admit that you’re overreacting sometimes

you also admit that you’re a massive dumbass for falling prey to one of the most common—and one of the most infuriating tropes—that is falling for your best friend.

yeah, hwang hyunjin? that boy holds your heart between his palms and with every smile you fall deeper and deeper

you’ve known that kid since you started eating crayons in elementary, and since then you’d been attached at the hip, clung to each other through all the clownery of middle school

finding each other in places is like a sixth sense; it only takes you both less than a minute to find the other before startling them with a quiet “hey, you”

but time is impatient, and that timid, starry-eyed boy you knew became the dimpled heartthrob come highschool—geared with the smarts and the talents and love-laced words that sent boys and girls running after him

but to you he was always just that kid who nearly consumed clay cakes because “it looked so real!”

until he wasn’t

it just came to you like a blow to the face, in the middle of sophomore year, sitting on hyunjin’s bedroom floor on a weekend trying to cram revise for your upcoming exams

you decided to take a quick break, and made the mistake of looking at hyunjin

and my oh my was he stunning

every laugh that tumbled from his lips sounded like a fucking symphony

and the bastard was just playing with kkami !!

he looked so damn soft as he planted kisses on his coat

every single constellation you knew was embedded in his irises

haha heartbeat go brrrrrrr

and maybe all you wanted was for him to never stop smiling, because he looked the most beautiful when he did, and maybe you wanted to brush his hair away from his face because you couldn’t see his eyes all that well and what the fuck—

you just malfunctioned

because that was your best friend

he noticed you staring, of course, and had the audacity to smirk, and in a second you wanted to set yourself on fire

“y/n, i know i look good, but at least try to be subtle.”

“you look like a low-budget minion, hyunjin.”

“i’d rather be a minion than a shabbier version of gru, thank you.”

(many fists were thrown that day, and hyunjin learned not to pick fun at your clothing lest that he face humiliation)

for the first few months you were in constant denial, even going so far as to blame hyunjin himself for forcing you to watch countless romcoms on your weekly sleepovers

but once you catch hyunjin staring at you with that fond look in his eyes, one he’s carried since childhood, your heart finally has the courage to murmur into the concaves of your chest, i am in love

it gets worse around senior year

the summer after junior year you land yourself a job at miroh café, a coffee shop at the heart of the town bc you’re broke as fuck and you need the cash

and, as expected, hyunjin becomes a frequent patron

he’s armed with a pickup line every single time he orders

and every single time you have to tell your heart to calm the fuck down he’s always been like this c’mon gimme a break

it’s even gone to the point where the regulars mistake him as your boyfriend

and as if your conscience nagging you 24/7 wasn’t enough mental baggage, your coworkers and fellow seniors, felix and ryujin, decided to weigh in

“if that isn’t the look of someone who’s simping over you then i don’t know what is,” ryujin nudges you, and from the repetitive force you’ve sustained from the past week you’re surprised your ribs aren’t bruised yet.

“you act like you’re not in the same dance crew,” you scoff, “ryujin, he flirts with everyone—he even had the balls to hit on chan!”

“let me remind you that denial is always the first stage of falling in love,” felix chirps, cheerful as he replenishes the pain au chocolat in the display.

“and let me remind you that i’m holding a very hot cup of coffee straight out of the machine; ‘accidents’ can happen, felix.”

of course, you weren’t in denial—you’d been past that stage long ago

it’s just that you didn’t wanna give yourself false hope

you didn’t want to lose this beautiful thing with him that’s lasted for nearly a decade because of your stupid emotions

so you’ve trained yourself to remain indifferent to the many compliments and lines he sent your way, hoping that if you could fool the others into thinking he didn’t affect you, maybe you could fool yourself, too

but oh ho ho, do i have some news for you (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

you don’t know how hyunjin’s pulse speeds up whenever he sees a handwritten note on his coffee wishing him good luck

you don’t know how often he forces himself to stop staring at you whenever you’re not looking

you don’t know how stupidly happy it makes him when he sees you smile

especially when he’s the reason why.

maybe everything about you makes hwang hyunjin happy

and maybe if you weren’t so kind and gentle and considerate during the times he lost a competition then maybe he wouldn’t have fallen this hard

but you were (and still are)

during the times you cried from laughter at all his antics

or cracked a smile at one of his pickup lines

he’d think that maybe—just maybe—he could stand a chance

but every time he did, he’d spiral into self-doubt

because there’s no way you would ever fall for him

you’re the kindest, most talented person hyunjin has ever known who deserves the universe

and he’s just… him

even if he did plan to confess, he’d be putting everything at stake; you’re too important to him, losing you would be a loss too heavy for him to bear

so he’s content with playing this role

even if the idea of you being with someone else hurts him so much

he’s content with reminding you everyday—even if it isn’t direct—that your mind is like no other, and that anybody would be blessed to have you

you both think it's always going to be like this

with you struggling to keep your feelings from showing

and hyunjin battling his inner demons

and those left to perceive the “discreet” ogling across the room and the hidden yearning in your voices are none other than (you guessed it!) felix and ryujin 🤩

it was funny the first few months

but now it’s just plain frustrating and they want nothing more than to bash your two oblivious heads together because y’all !! are !! idiots !!

no matter how much they persist, they’re always met with either a sad, gentle smile with a shake of the head or a monotonous “ha. you’re really funny.”

both have considered dropping your asses but they can’t because they love y’all too much

so all they can do is hope for a change

and change does indeed arrive when september rolls around

dance practice has just ended and hyunjin feels hyped because it’s movie night and he can’t wait to cry to kimi no na wa again

and lowkey stare at you for the entirety of the film

he exits his dance crew’s studio and is about to go straight to 7/11 for snacks when he spots the team’s newest recruit by the road, waiting for a ride home

hwang yeji’s only moved here two months ago and in a short span of time she’s already become one of the well-liked kids at school

but she’s a kind & humble sweetheart who deserves all the love & attention !!

so being the good sport he is, hyunjin approaches yeji with the brightest grin, having only talked to her a few times prior

“hey, there! yeji!” when the girl turns to him, her smile looks and feels like liquid sunshine. “waiting for your date?”

yeji turns rosy when he asks, like she does when everyone teases her about her special someone, who she’s been crushing on for weeks and who she finally had the courage to ask out. “c’mon, stop that. i don’t even know if they like me like that—they probably think it’s just another friendly date.”

“they’re a fool if they don’t end up liking you after, then,” hyunjin quips, hoping the bitterness doesn’t seep into his tone and wishing he has half the luck and strength yeji has, and she laughs.

“you know them, actually.”

“oh?”

“yeah! y/n l/n?”

oh.

o h

hyunjin can only blink at her dumbly, feeling like a thousand arrows are digging into his skin

you… with hwang yeji?

is that why you asked about her the other day? because you like her back? and that her feelings are far from being one-sided?

watching a dark cloud loom over his features, yeji thinks about asking if he’s okay when he blurts out an inaudible excuse as he walks away, zooming past the convenience store when he does

when he heads off he doesn’t even look at where he’s going, relying solely on muscle memory

he feels like he wants to grow smaller, biting his lower lip and clenching his hands into fists

he doesn’t even know why he’s upset

you were never his to lose

why would he regret what couldn’t be in the first place?

when his feet instinctively halt in front of miroh café, all he can do is stare blankly at the glass doors, at your figure behind the counter

but he wills himself to move away again, and when he does he clashes with another body

“hey, watch where you’re... hyunjin?”

ryujin stares at him with her mouth half agape, and she flinches when she sees his eyes glistening, his face flushed with the shade of pure heartbreak

“did you know about them?” he’s afraid to raise his voice, because doing so would mean there’s no stopping his emotions, “about… y/n and yeji?”

the lack of response provides the answer, and hyunjin walks away from the block

that afternoon, a cup of coffee with his name scrawled on the front went forgotten on the countertop

that evening, hyunjin doesn’t show for your monthly tradition for the first time in five years

you spend the rest of your evening obsessively checking your phone for text from him, wracking your brain for reasons he couldn’t come

of course, there are multiple reasons: like schoolwork (you are seniors, after all) and the upcoming dance competition

but you know he would text you over the slightest inconvenience, so why isn’t he saying a thing?

you rack your brain for anything you might’ve done, and your chest tightens when you think that maybe—just maybe—he’s finally caught on to you

you try to distract yourself with other thoughts as you lie wide awake in your bed: like your midterm exams, the nearing debate tournament… your date with yeji

bright, splendid hwang yeji who shares the wittiest jokes in biology and has the most colorful personality around

the first time you spent time with her she made you smile so wide it made your cheeks hurt

her laugh is the loveliest one you’ve ever heard; like dewy lavender fields beneath the spring sunshine

but every time you hear it you’re reminded that it isn’t hyunjin’s laugh, that you aren’t with him and every time you realize it you wanna cry

bc yeji’s been nothing but sweet and considerate this whole time and you’re more than guilty at the fact that all her attentions will be wasted because of you and your stupidity

you barely escape the wrath of crying yourself to sleep when you finally doze off when the clock hit two am

the next day at school, you both barely even make eye-contact

even the underclassmen who’ve heard the frequent calls of your names feel uneasy when they don’t hear hyunjin’s high-pitched voice or your shrill tones

felix especially, who’s experienced the trauma of sitting in between you two at history and feeling the tension that nearly chokes him

you’re more than terrified to look at him at him in the eye, terrified that once you do you’ll realize he doesn’t gaze at you the same way anymore

something inside hyunjin aches every time he spares you a glance, because every time he does it’s painfully obvious that he’s always been hopeless

in all honesty, hyunjin wouldn’t have shown his face at all if it weren’t for the tiny thread of patience inside ryujin snapping

so here he is, inside miroh a quarter before closing time

felix’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees him, so he sends a pointed look to his coworker,

“what did you do?” he murmurs. ryujin’s eyes are sharp when she looks at him, and he feels his blood run cold.

“what i needed to.”

no, she didn’t threaten to kill his entire family, if that’s what you’re wondering

she merely gave him… a warning

so one can imagine the surprise you feel when you emerge from the staff room, and felix drags ryujin outside to give you privacy

you both remain silent once they’re gone, neither one of you moving in place

until quiet words escape your mouth, and the familiar greeting makes hyunjin’s heart clench:

“hey, you.”

he doesn’t make a sound, so you continue, the tension heavy

“you owe me three dollars, by the way. i just wasted a perfectly good iced latte with the other day when you didn’t…”

when you trail off, hyunjin opens his mouth to let out an apology, and he realizes with a start that the words tumbling out are completely different:

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“what?”

“why didn’t you tell me about yeji?” hyunjin’s eyes begin to quiver when they meet yours, “we’re best friends, aren’t we?”

your jaw tightens, i told you. best friends. nothing more. “because you worry too much about everything; if i’d told you about us then you’d—”

“y/n, we’ve been together for a decade!” hyunjin intervenes, “we’re always going to worry about each other, whether you like it or not. and this— this is… i…”

every coherent thought vanishes as hyunjin grapples for more things to say. he knows he’s being selfish, undoubtedly so, but he wants you. he wants you so, so bad. the fight in him leaves until, eventually, all that’s left to say is the truth: “please, don’t go. don’t go… with her.”

your heart is close to breaking your ribcage when you stare at his face, you wait for him to say anything, to justify why he’s said it, but when the quiet settles, all you can see is red

“this is why i don’t tell you about these things,” you grit, trembling violently. “when i do, you say— say stuff that make me believe that you feel the same way i do when you actually don’t.

“and i hate you so much but in the end it’s all my fault because i’m the idiot who caught feelings for their best friend and—”

hyunjin doesn’t let you add anything else, because his lips are on yours and you’re overwhelmed with the feeling of him, him, him

the kiss doesn’t leave any room for doubt; he’s shaking, and his legs might give out, but he wants you to know that everything he feels is real

you’re both gasping for air when you pull away, but his hands still linger on your face and he traces the edge of your mouth, and you can do nothing but pull him closer by the waist

“still hate me now?” he asks, and you chuckle breathlessly, putting your forehead on his.

“yes, very much so,” you look at him tenderly, and he yelps when you pinch him gently, “this is all on you, y’know. if it weren’t for your godforsaken romcoms, we wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

“but if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have ended up with a boyfriend, amirite? ow, shit— i’m kidding!”

bonus!

“oh, thank fuck,” felix exhales, looking through the windows one more time before ambling beside ryujin, who looks pleased with herself as she places her apron on the crook of her elbow. “so, spill: what did you tell hyunjin?”

she smiles, “i told him not to give up before he’s even tried anything; sometimes, there are people who are worth taking that risk for.”

just as felix is about to commend her for sounding the most wholesome he’s heard her, she adds: “and i threatened to revoke my tutelage—his ass is failing calculus so hard.”

[beetlebitchywitch]

BABE. BAAAAABE. okay but imagine surprising Zhuk for your anniversary at the hotel where he's been staying on a business trip, like he's been missing you so terribly and you just show up, and he's so overjoyed that you're there that he just goes so soft and loving and that's the first time he asks you to marry him. It won't be the last, and it isn't the first time he's wanted to ask but it's the first time he's said it out loud

SO this is based loosely on an ASMR that the lovely @monsterlovinghours and I were listening to together, but now with the lovely Russian hubban! In case anyone doesn’t know, Zhuk is the Russian Mafia Beetlejuice AU that none of us have been able to shut up about because he’s soft. So enjoy!

Warning: NSFW.

The luxurious softness of the comforter beneath Zhuk’s body did nothing to soothe the dull ache in his chest that was swiftly getting on his last nerve. Everything about his hotel room aggravated him- tasteless paintings adorned each wall in garish contrast with the dull beige wallpaper, the comforter, though soft, was horrendously patterned and clashed with the carpet, and Lord help him, the minibar didn’t even supply him with quality vodka to drown his sorrows. God, listen to him, he sounded as bad as Scarafaggio, but the truth was, he simply couldn’t help it. It was your anniversary, and his bed was empty- he’d been away on business for a week already and still wasn’t due home for three days, leaving both of you to suffer through your anniversary alone. Could he be blamed if the drab wallpaper invoked his ire when his malen'kiy tsvetok was not there to brighten the room with her smile? The very thought of you, blushing and beautiful in his arms where you belonged, made him wish to tear the comforter balled in his fists to shreds, as if the gaudy pattern alone was to blame for the pain in his chest. He was fully prepared to drink the cheap booze the hotel so graciously provided for him and plan his own pity party when he was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. Your face on his screen both delighted and pained him, and with a haggard smile, he answered it.

    “Hello?”

    “Hey, moya lyubov.” And oh, his native tongue dripped from your lips like honey; Zhuk couldn’t help but clutch at his chest at the sweet sound of it. 

    “Oh, darling, you must go easy on me,” he pleaded, laying back despondently on the mattress. “Just the sound of your voice is enough to torture me.”

    “Wow, dramatic much?” you chuckled, your voice slightly warbled. “You only have to wait three days before we’re together again.”

    “Yes, and if any of those bastards think they can so much as look at you when I get home, they’ve got another thing coming. We’re missing our anniversary, dorogoy. Scarabee got to spend his anniversary with you!” he complained, pinching the bridge of his nose at the very thought. 

    “That’s because Bee didn’t have very important business out of town on our anniversary. How is that going by the way?” you asked.

    “As well as it can be,” he sighed. “My…ugh, associates are being difficult, but they’ll come to see things my way in due time. You needn’t worry, kukla- besides, I only want to think about you, however much it may hurt.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” you sighed. “I’d be there with you if I could, you know that.”

“I know, I know, just…imagining you, how beautiful you must look right now, it makes my heart ache to be with you. God, I can’t believe I have to miss our anniversary. I could’ve been home days ago had it not been for these useless, good-for-nothing, lowlife-”

    “Zhuk!” you laughed, interrupting his tirade. “You have to relax, you know what happens when you get too worked up.” At that, Zhuk smirked, quirking one eyebrow. 

    “I know what usually happens, little one,” he crooned, his voice rich and sweet like honey. “I usually have a pretty little bird ready to sing for me, don’t I? But fate would have it that we have to be apart tonight, otherwise I would be there to make you sing for me well into the night.” Your face began to warm at the thought of Zhuk on top of you, between your legs, inside of you, playing your body like an instrument and composing a symphony out of your moans…

    …You would have to end your little game sooner than you thought. 

    “Oh yeah?” you asked softly, putting a little extra sweetness into every word. “And how would you manage that?” You could practically hear Zhuk smirk on the other end of the line along with the soft rustling of sheets that meant he was sitting up in anticipation. 

    “You know exactly how, tsarina,” he murmured, letting his mind be taken away into his fantasy. “How many times have I had my hands on your beautiful body, hmm? I’ve worshipped you with all that I have so many times I think I could map out the spots that make you moan the prettiest for me. I know exactly how to take you apart, piece by piece, until you have no choice but to cum, trembling in my arms and singing so sweetly…would you like that, dorogoy?”

    For a moment, you couldn’t speak. You nodded as if Zhuk could see you, biting down on a finger to keep from moaning aloud at thought of him worshipping you the way he wanted to. You could feel your thighs trembling in anticipation, but you needed to wait. Just a little longer.

    “And oh, moya zhena, after I’m done with you…I will finally get to hold you in my arms. A single day without getting to see you is painful enough, but to go an entire week and not be able to hold you close, to feel your warmth…a man could go mad,” he said softly, his voice laden with longing. Your breath caught in your chest at the sudden switch in tone, your heart softening at the sweetness of his words. “When you’re pliant and sated for me, my love, I’ll lay you against my chest and feel your heartbeat race, press my lips to your hair and simply be with you…oh, dorogoy, I miss you so much…” His voice trembled as if he was going to cry, and your resolve finally broke. 

    “Zhuk, my love…you don’t have to miss me anymore,” you said, quickly rushing to where you needed to be. 

    “What do you mea-…there’s someone at the door,” he said, his question interrupted by a quick series of knocks. “Give me a moment, my dear.”

    Zhuk took a moment to straighten his shirt before striding swiftly to the door, throwing it open to find…oh.

    In an instant you were swept into his embrace, his strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you inside the room. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling the scent of cigar smoke that you’d grown to love and miss so much as he murmured into your hair, “Moya lyubov’, moya dorogaya, o moya zhena, ya tak po tebe skuchala…” You let out a sigh from deep in your chest, relaxing into his arms as he continued to whisper sweet words you couldn’t understand. 

    “Surprised?” you asked. You looked up to send him a sweet smile and gasped at the sight of unshed tears sparkling in his eyes. 

    “Of course I’m surprised, how are you even here? Where have you been?” he asked, quickly wiping the tears away from his wild eyes. 

    “I was hiding down the hall. You know, human beings have invented these wonderful things called planes,” you said slyly, moving your hands up to rest them against his broad chest. “You should try them someti-”

    He silenced your teasing with a firm kiss, pulling you as tightly into his arms as he could as the feeling of his kiss made your fingers curl into his sweater. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your head swimming as if you were getting drunk off the taste of him and the feeling of his large hands spread across your back. He pulled away, but only an inch, leaving the tiniest of gaps between  your lips. 

    “I believe I promised that I’d make you sing, kukla,” he crooned, his warm breath puffing out over your lips. You hummed, smiling softly as you lean in to softly peck his lips.

    “Then you better keep your promise,” you whispered. You met his eyes for the briefest of moments before he was taking your lips again with a growl, his fingers clawing at your jacket to swiftly unbutton it and throw it to the floor. You became a tornado of hands tearing at clothing, both of you working quickly to rid the other of your shirts before getting caught up in another kiss as you tumbled to the bed, Zhuk hovering overtop of you as he worked to rid you of the rest of your clothing. He groaned in satisfaction at the sight of you, bare and waiting, and he couldn’t stop himself from dragging his lips across your skin like a paintbrush across canvas, painting splotchy bruises across your neck and chest and only being spurred on by your moans. 

    “Mm, dorogoy, I’ve missed the way you taste,” he groaned, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and grinding his hips into the bed at the sound of your pinched off cry. He released it, teasing it with the tip of his tongue before continuing lower, nibbling at the softness of your tummy while his fingers traveled up your inner thigh, the teasing touch sending heat to pool in your stomach. You bucked your hips with a soft gasp as his fingertips slowly but surely came to tease your clit, feeling Zhuk smirk against your skin as he came to be eye-level with your pussy. “Sing for me, won’t you, little one?” With a little wink, he slowly dragged his tongue over your clit, holding eye contact with you for a split second before you threw your head back with a high-pitched cry. His tongue continued to tease you while his fingers prodded at your entrance, two sliding in after a moment and stretching you so beautifully. 

    “Z-Zhuk…mm, fuck,” you whined, his fingers curling inside of you perfectly and sending waves of pleasure to the tips of your toes. “God, you feel so good, I fucking missed you.”

    “I missed you too, moya zhena,” he groaned, pressing a reverent kiss to your clit as he continued to stretch you, preparing you to take him fully. “Mm, I missed hearing you moan for me. I knew you’d sound so sweet when I finally had you, but…oh, my dear, you exceed all expectations.” 

    You keened at his sweet words and even sweeter kisses, his free hand grabbing at your thigh and spreading them wider to better accompany him as his tongue and fingers continued to drag you closer and closer to your climax. Your moans grew louder as his fingers drove into your most sensitive spot over and over again, his lips sucking mercilessly at your clit and vibrating with a moan as you dug your fingers into his hair. Just as you felt like you were going to fall over the edge into a pleasurable oblivion, he moved away, chuckling at your objecting whine. 

    “No need to worry, kukla,” he said with amusement. “I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” 

    He came to hover fully over you again and you gasped at the feeling of the head of his cock prodding at your entrance. His hand cupped your cheek, forcing your eyes to meet his as he slipped inside, groaning at the feeling of your wet heat enveloping every inch of him. When he finally bottomed out, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, nuzzling into his touch and pressing a light kiss to the center of his palm. His eyes bore into you intensely, and you could feel his hips shift a little as he tried desperately to remain still and give you time to adjust to the size of him. 

    “I’m alright, moy lyubov,” you reassured him, pressing another kiss to his hand before gazing up at him pleadingly. “Move…please…”

    Zhuk let out a deep sigh and pulled out a bit before thrusting back in, shuddering at the feeling of your pussy gripping his cock as he moved. He picked up the pace at the sight of you, head thrown back and tits bouncing as he fucked you, and mouth hanging open as you let out beautiful moans. God, you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he could never get enough of you. Not even for a second…not even for eternity.

    “Marry me, dorogoy,” he moaned, thrusting perfectly into your G-spot and growling at the sound of your cut off whine. “Oh, my love, moye sokrovishche, moy yedinstvennyy, vykhodi za menya…”

    “What?” you asked bewilderedly. “Zhuk, I-oh, fuck-I can’t understand you.”

    “Marry me, sweet one,” he said again, leaning down to take your lips in a long, languid kiss as he drove into you over and over again, his thrusts growing erratic and off-rhythm. “Be my wife, be mine forever, oh god, so close, cum for me!” 

    God, there were so many things happening at once. Zhuk’s cock was driving into you so perfectly, your pleasure clouding your mind with fog, but not enough to not recognize that he just asked you to marry him and cum for him in the same breath. The latter seemed the most likely, your body trembling in his arms as it chased its pleasure, climbing to heights you’ve rarely ever known before finally hitting that peak. Your fingers scrabbled for purchase at Zhuk’s back as you came, and came, and kept cumming until it felt like your body would simply fall apart. You felt his teeth sink into your shoulder as he followed soon after, groaning harshly as he spilled inside you. You took what seemed like days to come down from that high, so long that you hadn’t even noticed he’d moved you to lay on his chest. You finally looked up to see him smiling softly at you, his fingers carding gently through your hair. 

    “There she is,” he murmured, his chest still heaving with heavy breaths. “Have you returned to me, dorogoy?”

    “Mmhmm,” you hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his pec. “That was…fuck, that was so good.” 

    “Mm, I agree,” he said, taking one of your hands in his. “But you still have not answered me.” It took you a moment to clear the fog from your mind, but then you remembered and gasped softly, your heartbeat beginning to pick back up. 

    “I…did you mean that?” you asked. When you looked into his eyes, you could tell he was nothing but serious, but you wanted to hear him say it. You needed to hear him say it. He lifted your hand to his lips with a soft chuckle, pressing a reverent kiss to your knuckles. 

    “I meant it more than I’ve ever meant anything,” he murmured, gazing into your eyes intensely as if to convey his seriousness with one look. “I never wish to be apart from you, tsvetok. You came into our lives like a firecracker, but you’ve never fizzled out. You took our gray, boring lives and filled them with color, and I never want to lose that. I never want to go back to who I was before I met you, so I’ll ask again…will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” 

    You paused. A million questions ran through your head. Would you marry the others as well? Would you be able to invite your friends and family to your wedding? And most importantly, were you ready? Were you ready to commit yourself fully and completely to them? But looking into Zhuk’s hopeful eyes, swimming unshed tears and taking you in like a work of art…you could only come to one answer.

    “…Yes. Yes.”

    He was on you before you could blink, his lips enveloping yours in a desperate, overjoyed kiss, his hands grabbing at you and refusing to settle on one place for too long. You kissed him back just as fiercely, laughing against his lips as his hands finally rested on your waist, his thumbs stroking your skin as he peppered little kisses to the corner of your mouth. 

    “Oh, my love, I’m…I’m so happy,” he said emphatically, pulling back to look you in the eye, his own brimming with tears. “Are you happy?” You hummed with a soft nod, unable to keep a warm smile from spreading across your face.

    “I’ll be happier once you get me a ring,” you said with a wink, getting a teary laugh from your now fiance. 

    “Not to worry, dorogoy…” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your forehead before letting your rest on his chest once more. “Once I get you the ring, I’ll just ask you again.” 

    Little did you know that even after you were married, Zhuk would continue to ask you to be his bride. If you brought him tea to the smoking room on a cold winter night, he’d spin his wedding ring on his finger and ask you to marry him. If you woke him gently in the morning after a night of making love, he’d drag you into a kiss and beg you to stay with him forever. Even after a fight, when you’re both stewing in your own anger and feeling alone, he’d come up behind you, press a kiss to the nape of your neck, and ask you to be his wife. No matter the occasion, no matter the mood, there was never a bad time for Zhuk to ask you to marry him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[tipsycad147]

“A witchery of sound”- ‘ceol sidhe’ or fairy music

‘Flute fairy’ by

Svetlana Chezhina

“There’s many feet on the moor to-night, and they fall so light as they turn and pass, So light and true that they shake no dew from the featherfew and the hungry grass. I drank no sup and I broke no crumb of their food, but dumb at their feast sat I; For their dancing feet and their piping sweet, now I sit and greet till I’m like to die.

Oh kind, kind folk, to the words you spoke I shut my ears and I would not hear! And now all day what my own kin say falls sad and strange on my careless ear; For I’m listening, listening, all day long to a fairy song that is blown to me, Over the broom and the canna’s bloom, and I know the doom of the Ceol-Sidhe.

I take no care now for bee or bird, for a voice I’ve heard that is sweeter yet. My wheel stands idle: at death or bridal apart I stand and my prayers forget. When Ulick speaks of my wild-rose cheeks and his kind love seeks out my heart that’s cold, I take no care though he speaks me fair for the new love casts out the love that’s cold.

I take no care for the blessed prayer, for my mother’s hand or my mother’s call. There ever rings in my ear and sings, a voice more dear and more sweet than all. Cold, cold’s my breast, and broke’s my rest, and oh it’s blest to be dead I’d be, Held safe and fast from the fairy blast, and deaf at last to the Ceol-Sidhe!”

This poem, ‘The fairy music’ by Nora Chesson Hopper, captures the enchantment and other worldliness that it is associated with fairy music.  Previously I have discussed the fairies’ liking for music and song and what seems to be the generally pleasure-seeking nature of their existence (see my earlier posting on  fairy pastimes as well as chapter 11 of my British fairies).  According to John Dunbar of Invereen, one of folklorist Walter Evans-Wentz’ Highland informants, the fairies were “awful for music, and used to be heard often playing the bagpipes.” (The fairy faith in Celtic countries, p.95)

Fairy musical skill

What I would like to do now in this posting is to discuss the actual nature and sound of that fairy music, based upon the first hand testimonies of those who have claimed to have been fortunate enough to have heard it.  Nonetheless, there are a number of themes associated with fairy music which we may quickly recap:

the music is often heard coming from particular knolls, hills or barrows, in which the fairies are taken to reside.  This is a very common local story and it can be found from the Fairy Knowe on Skye to the ‘music barrows’ of southern England, for example at Bincombe Down and Culliford Tree in Dorset and Wick Moor, near Stogursey in Somerset.

fairy musical skills and even instruments can be granted to fortunate humans.  There are several sets of bagpipes in Scotland alleged to be fairy gifts.  Fairy musical ability could be a blessing that made a man and his heirs rich (Evans- Wentz p.103). It could also be a curse, too: the favoured one might die young, being taken back by the fairies to play for them (Evans-Wentz p.40).

conversely, talented human musicians were from time to time abducted to satisfy the powerful fairy need for music and dance.  Almost always they met the fate of all who tarry in Faery.  They believed that they had played for just a night, but find all transformed on their return home.

fairy music can have magical or enchanting power- for example, from Ireland come stories of those who, on hearing it, felt compelled to dance- and then had to continue until they dropped from sheer exhaustion (Evans-Wentz p.69).  Coleridge in his poem The eolian harp described “Such a soft floating witchery of sound/ As twilight Elfins make;”  deliberately or not, a spell seemed to be cast upon the listening human; and,

occasionally, humans are able to commit a fairy tune to memory and contribute it to the mortal repertoire.  One such is Be nort da deks o’ Voe from Shetland. Two Welsh examples are Cân y tylwyth teg and Ffarwel Ned Pugh (see Wirt Sikes, British goblins c.7 and also Evans Wentz Fairy faith pp.118 & 131- two examples from Man).

The last two points are of particular significance into an enquiry into what fairy music actually sounds like.  Most of our older sources are not very helpful on this.  In his history of Aberystruth parish, the Reverend Edmund Jones in 1779 is typical of the vague descriptions normally found: “everyone said [the music] was low and pleasant, but none could ever learn the tune.”  Gathering evidence for his book The fairy faith in Celtic countries, Evans-Wentz was told that fairy music consisted of tunes not of this world, unlike anything a mortal man ever heard (pp.124 & 24), being the finest, grandest and most beautiful kind (pp.32, 47 & 57).  Evans-Wentz was informed that it often continued over an extended period- an hour or even a whole night.

‘A little night music’ by

David Delamare

The sound of fairy music

Evidently the otherworldly nature of the music gave witnesses problems when they later tried to describe their experiences.  The testimony of those of a more artistic temperament might therefore prove more enlightening.  Poet and mystic George Russell (AE) told Evans-Wentz that he first listened to the music in the air on a hillside in County Sligo.  He heard “what seemed to be the sound of bells, and was trying to understand these aerial clashings in which wind seemed to break upon wind in an ever-changing musical silvery sound.” (p.61)  This leads us much closer to the reality and, in fact, the best account comes from a close friend of Russell and his wife, the visionary writer Ella Young.  Over the summer of 1917 and into 1918 she repeatedly heard the ceol sidhe, which in her opinion surpassed human symphonies.  Interestingly the very same description was used on the Isle of Man in the 1720s (Simon Young and Ceri Houlbrook, Magical folk, 2018, p.173).

The fairy music was, Young said, “orchestral and of amazing richness and complexity.”  The melodies could be exquisite, sometimes like very fast reels, at others slow and wistful.  On August 27th 1917 she described “a certain monotony like slow moving waves with a running melody on the crests.”  Interwoven with this might be voices singing in an unknown tongue, either solo or resembling Gregorian chant.  Young noted “delicate and intricate rhythms” in a variety of tempos, including “music of stricken anvils.”  She heard a “myriad, myriad instruments” among which she mentioned cymbals, bells (both silvery tinkling and deep tolling), trumpets, harps, violins, drums, pipes, organs and bagpipes.  Several times, though, she could not compare the sound to anything she knew from earthly ensembles; she heard “very high notes- higher than any human instrument could produce,” “something like a Jew’s harp” and “a curious reedy instrument.”  Again, Young was not alone in this: George Waldron recorded that on Man in the 1720s islanders would hear “Musick, as could proceed from no earthly instruments” (Magical folk, p.173).

Despite her eloquence and sensitivity, Young struggled to give a clear account; it was “not music I can describe… it is beyond words.”   Moreover, she found it “difficult to recall this music and the sensation it creates.”  Nevertheless, she wrote (in terms similar to Russell’s) that the orchestral sound resembled a “wave or gush of wind” and that its effect was to create “a sense of freedom and exultation.”

Young harboured some doubts over her aural visions.  She wrote on September 9th 1917 that “my head has been for several days quite normal,” but then she heard the sounds again and concluded “I think the singing in my head was really astral.” In other words, its origin was aethereal and unearthly.  She believed that all could hear the same if only they drew closer to nature and had a peaceful and patient heart.

It is difficult to know quite what to make of this.  Young herself admitted concerns over her own sanity, but at the same time W. B. Yeats and both AE and his wife heard the same “faery chimes” and “solemn undertone” of song.  Furthermore, as noted earlier, these experiences could last for hours; this lessens the likelihood that they can be dismissed as temporary auditory delusions.  Either these witnesses all hallucinated together or these highly detailed and circumstantial experiences record some actual sensations.  The consensus, at least amongst poets, was certainly to confirm that pipes and, particularly, bells were characteristic of fairy music (see for example Ceol sidhe by Francis Ledwidge or Fairy ring by Abbie Farwell Brown).

https://britishfairies.wordpress.com/2018/02/11/a-witchery-of-sound-ceol-sidhe-or-fairy-music/