#ARRANGED MARRIAGE GONE RIGHT IS MY FAVORITE THING IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD
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pinkmirth · 1 year ago
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(arranged marriage with reiner!! you’re expecting some cruel man and he’s just nothing of the sort and he takes his time getting to know you and falling for you before the idea of sex; and boyyyy the sex… first man to ever make you come)
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ARRANGED, reiner braun !
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omg mona! hubby reiner is everything to me— especially since i’ve been meaning to write something like this for a while >< after the marriage (which you begrudgingly went through with,) you think you’re gonna hate him; that he’ll be heartless and demanding. what i love most about this is that reiner easily proves you wrong! contrary to your former assumptions, your new husband is kind. makes you proud of being ‘missus braun.’ he’s compassionate and dedicated to you and the future family you’ll make (assuming that you’re together for the sake of an heir!) speaking of an heir . . . it isn’t long before you’re expected to have his babies.
before any talk of kids, he’d spent the first few months of your marriage trying to be a good husband— a man you can rely on, someone you can tell your deepest secrets to and laugh with. from the moment your relationship became legally bound, he’s been trying his best to not only see you as a wife, but as his closest friend. once that bond is made, once you’ve built trust, he deems you ready for him. and god, is he the gentlest man on earth. his large calloused hands are capable of the softest strokes. and he never thought you’d be so eager to feel him in this way. deep down in his heart, reiner believes you’re made for him. on the night of his first attempt at impregnating you (the thought of which excites him more than it should), he makes sure to fuck you good— hard but slow, the exact way you instructed him to. he needs you to enjoy this just as much as him. with thorough thrusts and pressured rubs to your clit, five minutes was all he needed to get you undone. you think you’ve finally fallen in love— both for him and that thick cock of his. reiner’s the only man capable enough to make you feel this good, he turns out to be the best you’ve ever had.
when you’ve both had your fill, satiated after three lengthy hours of love-making, he stays. nobody else has. hell, he even goes as far as to wiping you down and tucking you in, slipping underneath the sheets beside you. strong arms encircle your waist and pull you into the firmness of his chest. his skin’s warm, so you press a kiss to it. initially, this relationship was never of your own will. you’d even threatened to run away and leave him at the goddamn altar. but now? you can’t even fathom missing up on a man as rare as reiner braun.
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dira333 · 8 months ago
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The Road Not Taken - part 15
Shibi x  female reader with a name - arranged marriage
Summary: Airi Nara seems a hopeless case, until her grandmother sets her up for an arranged marriage. But was marrying Shibi Aburame the right choice after all?
Masterlist ; Character sheet
Taglist open if you want to be added
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-.- Shibi -.-
Shibi has always cherished early mornings. Everything feels different in the hours and minutes before the sun rises when the world is bathed in a grey light, the air heavy and light at the same time. 
He likes the morning when you wake him up, when you fail to be quiet as you get ready for an early shift. Sometimes he humors you and pretends to be asleep while you tiptoe from one room to the other, dropping a kiss on Shino’s hair or sidestepping a playful Okita.
He likes the mornings when you blink sleepily at him at the kitchen table, not awake enough to listen or to speak yet, but eager to get up with him, knowing you have the whole morning for the things you want to do.
He likes the mornings when he gets up just as you get home, when there’s no difference between good morning and good night for you and your lips brush his cheek on your way to bed.
So far he’s never been sure which kind of morning with you is his favorite.
Today he seems to have found his answer.
The world outside hasn’t woken up yet, but he’s wide awake already, his hive humming. They’ve grown slowly but steadily, suppported by his rest but held back by the uncertainty of your absence. But now that you’re back, safe and sound, they are just as eager to have you here as he is.
You’re not lying on your side as usual, but on your back, head supported by your neck brace. your plastered leg resting on a pillow. But your arms are wrapped around him, holding him close as if he’s the one who’d been gone for too long. There’s no barrier of clothing between you and he has to call back his Kikaichū multiple times. They already know you, from your chakra signature to your scent, but they respond to his emotions just as much as they do to his commands. And his need to touch you, to caress your skin and taste your warmth, does not go unnoticed by his hive. 
You’re so warm next to him, your chest moving with every deep breathe you take. Your hair is a mess under his nose. If he could stay here, unmoving, for the rest of his life, he suppose he’d be happy with it.
A single Kikaichū enters the room through the keyhole, meeting the top of his outstretched hand.
Shino tells him that he’s awake, anxious to be with you again. He sends the Kikaichū back with one of his own, telling his son that he will be with him shortly.
When Shibi moves to untangle himself from you, your face falls into a frown. He halts, hesitating. He doesn’t want to wake you, but he shouldn’t stay longer, even though he wants nothing more. Your eyes blink open as he’s still battling himself. 
“Shibi?” You ask, your voice hoarse. “What time is it?”
“Too early. You should go back to sleep. Shino’s awake.”
“So?” You yawn.
“He wants to cuddle but you’re very much naked.”
You groan but your eyes close again and he takes it as a sign to move again, to slip out of bed fully, looking for his clothes. 
Seconds later he can hear the bedsheets rustle and turns around to you sitting up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
“Where’s my shirt?” You ask before yawning again. “Never mind, just give me one of yours.”
“You should sleep.” He tells you, but his voice is too soft and he allows his hand to wrap around yours when you stretch it out toward him, reach for him like he always wants to reach for you. Your fingers entangle with his. His hive hums appreciatively.
-
Fifteen minutes later he’s making tea while Shino is curled up on your lap on the living room couch, your plastered leg resting on the coffee table.
“Do you want to nap on the couch?” You ask Shino softly. He’s grown even more in the last months, at almost five years old a heavy weight in your lap. 
“I don’t want to sleep.” He complains. “Why? I missed you.”
“I know, Shino, I know. Do you want to tell me about the bug you discovered this week instead? That will keep me awake.”
Shibi serves the tea on the little table in front of you, unsure how to fit his own tall body on the couch now. You sense his eyes roaming over the space and pat the place next to you.
When he sits, you lean back into him instantly, your head resting against his collarbone. He can’t resist the temptation and drops a kiss on the top of your head when Shino is distracted by his own story, counting down all the different species he’s learned in the last week alone.
“When did you wake up?” A voice asks from the staircase. Torune’s peering down at the three of them.
“Just a few minutes ago. Cuddle with us?”
Torune hesitates for a moment before nodding. He pulls the giant comforter you bought him from the basket in the corner, wrapping himself until there’s no point of skin visible that one of you could touch on accident. He crams himself into the space on your left and Shino stretches out his legs to rest on top of Torune’s.
You laugh softly and when Shibi looks down at you, your eyes are closed in contentment.
“This is perfect.” You hum. “My little family.”
-.- Airi -.-
When Muta comes to collect the boys for training, neither of them wants to leave.
“No, no, I understand.” You dry the tears that Shino sheds as he stubbornly insists that he needs to stay back with you. “I know you want to make up for lost time. But I need to catch up on a lot of work, take loads of naps in between, so you won’t be missing out an anything. And when you get back from training, we can make a cake together and cuddle some more.”
“Come,” Torune tugs on Shino’s coat. “You can help me train today.”
True to your word you fall asleep on the Couch just minutes after the front door closes. 
When you wake up, Okita is nestled against your side and you think you can hear Shibi in the kitchen.
“Shibi?” You ask, pulling yourself up. “Are you there?”
“I am. Why? Do you need help?”
“Yes, kinda. Can you help me up the stairs? I need to pee.”
You suppose you could tackle the stairs on your own if you had to. But you don’t have to, not as long as you have Shibi at home.
“Why do you need to rest again?” You ask through the bathroom door, knowing that he’s on the other side. “I know you told me some of it yesterday, but with the boys hanging off me and everything-”
“It’s okay. You went through a lot. We were ambushed and while we got out victorious in the end, we suffered heavy damage. Most of my swarm was killed.”
“Oh.” You say because what is there to say, really?
When you open the door again, wobbling on your good leg, nothing betrays what he’s feeling. Or so one could think. But you can tell that there’s a difference, like a quiet kind of grief for the Kikaichu that died.
“How are you feeling?” You ask, your hands wandering over his body a little more than necessary. Shibi leans into your touch until you’re fully embracing each other, him carrying your weight, you carrying his sorrow.
“Empty.” He whispers eventually. He does not explain himself but he doesn’t need to. You might never fully understand what it means to be an Aburame, but if you care this much about the ten Kikaichu living in your hair, you can imagine how he must feel for the thousands upon thousands living inside of him. You’ve seen him tend to them. 
-
At one point you find yourself back on the Couch, leg propped up. Your neck brace is getting annoying, especially when Shibi is sitting next to you and the brace is restricting your movements. 
You tell him about the mission, from Yori’s visit to the initial report made to the Hokage. 
He’s quiet the whole time, listens intently, only interrupts to urge you to drink a bit more tea.
“I’ll write your report,” Shibi says when you’re finished, dark sunglasses reflecting your surprised face. “Why? You need to recover.”
“But the report will be falsified.” You repeat. “If you write it for me, you’ll make yourself an accomplice.”
“I understand. But if you write it yourself and we will be questioned, I’m already an accomplice. You told me the truth.”
“Shibi-”
He leans forward, presses his temple against yours. “I will not lose you.” His voice is more sincere than you’ve ever heard before. You swallow thickly.
“Okay.” You nod. “I will… I will dictate you the words.”
Normally, reports are exaggerated for personal gain. One’s own role is presented as far more important for the success of the mission than it had been.
You aim to do the opposite.
While you, Akane, Iruka and now Shibi know the truth, Konoha will only ever know what you decide to tell them. It’s better this way. 
This way, Iruka can become a teacher and hopefully live a long life in the safety of Konoha. This way, you won’t become a Jonin, won’t be ripped away from your family again and again.
But there’s one thing you haven’t told any of them. Yet. 
You wait until Shibi declares the report finished. When the ink has dried and your eyes are slipping closed again, you nestle yourself against him to tell him the one thing you’d trust no one else with.
“Those Shinobi from Yugakure. I recognized them. They’d been under the attackers when… my eye was hit.” And my fiancé died, you add in your mind.
“I understand.” 
“You do?” You try to turn your head to look at him, but the neck brace won’t allow it.
“From the day we got to know each other, I’ve admired your compassion over everything else. You’re the only person I know that’s strong enough to help someone who’d previously tried to kill you. Not because you’re too weak to say no or from a strategic standpoint. You knew you’d help them the moment you realized that she cared for her companion.”
You swallow against a bout of tears. Maybe, just maybe, Shibi already understands you better than you do yourself.
-.- Shibi -.-
While he hates to admit a weakness, especially during a Clan-Head meeting, Shibi’s decided he will if it goes on for yet another hour. He’s already missed Dinner as well as Shino’s bedtime. You’re probaby crawling up the stairs on your own right now, not willing to ask Chiasa for help.
“There’s one last topic to address.” It’s Fugaku Uchiha’s turn to lead the meeting and he’s surely enjoying it. “A new teacher for the Academy. Aburame-san, do you have anything to say on this topic?”
Fugaku’s smile is less than friendly. It makes Hiashi look like he’s beaming with joy. 
“If you’re referring to the events of my wife’s latest mission, I have nothing to add to that.”
“No?” Fugaku’s brows furrow aggressively. “So your wife isn’t doing anything in her power to make Iruka Umino, an inexperienced Chunin, an academy teacher?”
“Hey now.” Takeo Lee clears his throat pointedly. “My daughter in law was the one who proposed it! I trust Akane’s judgement completely.”
“Your daughter in law hasn’t been friends with Iruka for years.” Fugaku points out, but Tsume is quick to catch him on that.
“Exactly. If Akane proposes Iruka as a teacher, it’s from an unbiased stance. Also, Akane’s a hardass. If she thinks he’s good, I’d trust him with Kiba any day.”
“I won’t let my children be taught by a Clanless Chunin!” Fugaku bristles.
Hiashi Hyuga clears his throat, effectively silencing the table.
“I propose that we vote. Everyone in favor of making Iruka Umino an Academy Teacher should raise their hand.”
“Wait.” Shibi stops before anyone can react. “I won’t vote. Why? If Fugaku is concerned that I might be biased, I will hold back my vote.”
There’s murmuring, some of the voices sounding clearly impressed by his decision.
Hiashi nods and glances at Fugaku who seems to have gotten his self-restraint back.
“Alright. Everyone in favor of Iruka Umino becoming an Academy Teacher should raise their hand.”
Even without Shibi’s vote, the decision is a clear yes. 
Shielded from the eyes of others, Shibi’s mouth quirks into a smile. He cannot wait to tell you this.
-
The house is quiet when he arrives. 
He finds Torune in the living room, petting Okita. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” Shibi asks, fondness evident in his voice.
“Mom is upstairs,” Torune explains instead of answering his question, taking a seat with him at the table, watching him eat. “She says it’s a shorter distance to the toilet.”
“How was training today?” 
“It was fine,” Torune looks over at Okita, avoiding his eyes. 
“Really? Tell me more.” 
It takes effort to get Torune to talk. But now that he’s being listened to, the words seem to flow from his lips.
There’s training, today and the day before, the new techniques he’s trying to master and the ones he’s set his eyes on after that.
Eventually, as it always does, they circle back to Shiruko.
It’s been about two weeks since he died yet it feels like months have gone by.
“How are you?” Shibi asks, “You can be honest.”
“Mom asked about that too.” Torune rubs his gloved hand over the table. “Is it okay that I call her Mom?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” 
A soft blush grows on his pale cheeks. Torune buries his face in his arms as if trying to hide himself against the table.
Shibi stretches out his arm, rests his hand on the boy's shoulder.
“Your parents would want you to be comfortable and feel loved. You do not betray their love by reciprocating ours.”
“How do you know?” Torune asks, voice muffled through the fabric.
“When my father died and my mother eventually remarried, I had the same question. My mother told me what I just told you. Now that I am a parent, I understand. Why? If something would happen to me, I’d want you to have someone in your life, someone who loves and cares for you. And I would want you to be able to reciprocate.”
“Even Airi?” Torune asks. The words cut through him like a burning knife.
Shibi swallows thickly at the thought.
If history would repeat itself, if you’d lose him through a mission or yet another war, would he want you to find love again?
He’d never had to think about it from this perspective. He’s always been the one left behind, left alive.
But what’s the alternative? You turning into him? Scared of love, hanging onto the ghost of a person? 
“It hurts to think about,” he finally manages, “But I’d rather have her happy with someone else than have her turn away from life. What do you think about that?”
Torune hesitates.
Shibi, having picked up one or two things from you, offers him an out.
“If you need to think about an answer, that’s okay too.”
-
“Hey,” you greet him with a smile, “Welcome home.” 
Shibi leans down to kiss you but what’s meant as a quick peck on the lips turns into something longer, more urgent, your hands digging into his coat, holding him close.
He’s half laying on you, half crouching on the floor, trying his best to not put his full weight on you. 
“What was that?” Shibi asks, a little breathless when you let go of him and smooth out his hair. 
“I missed you,” your calm voice betrays the thunder of your heart.
He undresses quickly, changes into a simple shirt and trousers just in time.
There’s a soft knock on the door. Shibi opens it to reveal Torune in his sleepwear, glasses discarded.
“I wanted to say goodnight.” The boy’s hands are folded in front of him.
“Oh, no, let me take you to bed,” you push yourself out of bed and hop through the room on one leg before Shibi can fully register what’s going on, “Come on. Like I’d miss that.”
Torune’s blushing, but there’s a content smile on his face too, as he lets you lead him back to his room, Shibi in tow.
He carries you back, begs his heartbeat to stay calm when you let your head rest on his chest. 
Shibi slips into bed with you. He’s not tired enough to go to sleep yet and he can tell you’re too, but with you more or less bound to the bed, he’s content to share that sentence.
“Iruka got the job,” he tells you as you move around, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. “I pulled myself out of the vote because Fugaku thought it was my idea and I was pushing  some kind of agenda.”
“Oh, that’s great.” You’re finally satisfied, leaning into him as you sit, smile on your face. “As soon as he’s a bit more comfortable in that position, he can apply for adoption.”
“About that,” Shibi sighs as he watches your smile waver. “He can’t adopt Naruto and teach him too. But the orphanage is pretty full so I think they wouldn’t be opposed to sending Naruto off on his own.”
“At barely five years old?”
“It’s called assisted living. It’s not an adoption and in all technicality, Iruka wouldn’t be Naruto’s dad, but instead a grown-up looking out for him, making sure he’s got enough money, food and whatever he needs, living nearby in case of any problems.”
You ponder it for a moment.
“Danzo wouldn’t be able to do much about it, would he?”
“I don’t think he’d like it, but there’s not much he can do about it. I’ve looked into it, it has been a thing in Konoha ever since the first War when the orphanages were filled to the brim.”
“I’d rather have him adopted,” you chew on your lip as you think, “But I trust your judgment. We should talk to him about this as soon as possible.”
Shibi pulls you closer. He can’t help the pleased hum of his hive when you cuddle into him. You giggle. 
“Was that your hive?” You ask. “I didn’t hear them before.”
“They’ve grown bolder.”
“How are they, anyway?” You press your ear against his chest. “How much longer are you put on rest?”
“A few more days.”
“Oh.” 
“You sound disappointed. Why?”
Your cheeks turn hot, he can feel it even through his sleep shirt.
“It’s nothing.” You mutter. His hand, previously rubbing distracting circles on your back, stills. He’s still debating whether he’s supposed to ask or not when you speak up again.
“Rika came by today.” You’re not looking at him. “We just talked, but it was pretty enlightening. She’s not been at the hospital for long, but she caught the tail-end of Kazue’s tyranny. From what she’s gathered, they’re looking for someone to take up Kazue’s job. It’s less medical work and more bureaucracy, making sure that there are always enough doctors and nurses on hand and so on.” 
You pause. He can sense that there’s more to it, but you don’t open your mouth again, still hiding your face from his eyes.
“Do you want to take it?” Shibi asks, hopes that the warmth of his hands lets you know that he’ll be supportive, however you need him to be.
“I said…” You hesitate, “Well, I said… I’m not sure I could take it and that I would have to talk to you about it.” You lean back now, but even though your face is in full view, you avoid looking into his eyes. “Since I wanted to ask you… What you think about having another child…”
One, two heartbeats long Shibi forgets to breathe. When his lungs remind him, he takes a shaking breath.
“Are you sure?” His voice is just as shaky, breaking in between.
You nod, your eyes finally flickering up to his. “I mean, it doesn’t have to happen. Not now or not ever. This is a joint decision, after all. But you make me feel… loved… in a way, that I…” You fall silent again, your hands playing with the hem of his shirt, your eyes yet again unable to meet his. “If Shino’s going to start training soon and Torune’s training progresses with the same speed, why not try for it? It’s probably not going to happen quickly anyway, I’m almost thirty after all. I could go back to work until it’s time for me to take a step back and depending on what my work entails I could keep working part-time, if needed. Like one or two days a week or something like that. What do you think?”
“Are you sure?” His voice is barely above a whisper now. There’s a tone to it that he can hardly explain. He’s less asking if you want this than asking if you really want this… with him.
You seem to pick up on it because your features soften and you pull him into him. 
It must be uncomfortable for you, sitting like this, your leg still very much useless. But you don’t complain, mold yourself against him instead. 
Your hands are warm on his skin, gifting him the soft caress of a lover, not just a woman who agreed to marry him.
“What do you think?” You ask yet again.
Something loosens in him, a knot he never knew he tied up. His tongue responds in kind, telling you a secret he’d never thought would see the light of day.
“I always wondered what it would be like to have a daughter.”
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junghelioseok · 5 years ago
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covenant.
↳ your best friend’s engagement forces you to reevaluate your own feelings.
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◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | angst | werewolf!au | f2l!au ◇ 16.4k [1/1]
⇢ arguably also an arranged marriage!au, ft. kinda sorta dumbasses to lovers? a very, very late bday fic for the most beautiful man in the universe and my favorite funky lil dancer. ♡
notes: i started this in my drafts well over three months ago and all it said was “this ain’t gonna be on time for hobi’s bday i can feel it” and damn if past!me wasn’t right on the money!!! this has undergone three edits, going from 14.6k to 16.4k somehow, and i am going to lose my whole damn mind if i don’t just post it so here it is! hope you enjoy!
warnings: dom!hobi, alpha!hobi, bit of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), some grinding against hobi’s thigh, knotting, hobi’s got a big dick idk, also he’s in heat!!! but things eventually get really soft bc i love him and am a Soft Bitch™ 🤷🏻‍♀️
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It’s going to rain.
You can smell it in the air and feel the damp chill against your skin, permeating through every layer of your clothing. The surrounding forest and all its occupants seem to be collectively holding their breath, waiting for the first drops to come. Even your footsteps, soft as they are against the loamy earth, sound much too loud in the hush that’s fallen. Dark clouds gather overhead, looming like an omen, and you silently reach into your purse to check that the umbrella you’d stowed this morning is still there. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s big enough for two.
Around you, the trees slowly begin to dwindle, until there’s only open sky above your head and a wide grassy expanse beneath your feet. A certain heaviness lingers in the air here—a low thrum of energy, born from the ancient magic that sleeps in the gnarled roots of the tree that sits in the center of the clearing. You can feel it prickling along your skin, raising gooseflesh and igniting your veins, and the closer you get, the stronger the feeling becomes.
At the far end of the clearing, you spot a small crowd of people, all clad in black. Your best friend—and your entire reason for venturing out today—stands amongst them in a tailored suit, his black tie snug at his throat and laid atop a charcoal gray shirt. He’s chatting with his father and a few other family members, seemingly calm and collected, but you can tell from the sloppy knot of his tie and the way he fidgets with the hem of his jacket that he is anything but. After all your years of friendship, you can read Jung Hoseok like a book. His auburn hair is disheveled as if he’s been incessantly raking his fingers through it, and even at a distance, you can sense the turmoil in his aura, haloing him like the stormy clouds overhead.
Sensing your approach, Hoseok’s gaze flickers up to meet yours. He raises a hand in greeting and bids farewell to the people he’d been chatting with, picking his way over to you with a wan smile.
“Hey. You made it.”
“I wouldn’t miss this,” you reply, reaching out to take his hand. It’s warm and strong as always, but you don’t miss the slight tremor in his grip. “How are you holding up?”
He shrugs half-heartedly, a sigh escaping his lips and dissipating into mist in the wintry air. “As well as can be expected, I guess. It just… it all happened so fast.”
“I know,” you murmur, twining your fingers together in quiet reassurance. “I’m so sorry, Hobi.”
“Thanks.”
Slowly, his gaze flits to the center of the clearing where the ancient tree sits, traversing from the leafy canopy all the way down to where the gnarled roots disappear into the dirt. In its shadow sits a polished wooden casket, and you squeeze Hoseok’s hand gently as he walks closer, his eyes beginning to glisten.
“I still can’t believe he’s gone, you know,” he mumbles. “All these years of war, of negotiations and peace talks, finally seeing the Accords pass and the company flourish… and now he’s gone. Cancer. Just like that.”
His voice cracks on the last sentence, and you clasp his hand a little tighter. You know as well as he does that a healthy werewolf can live for well over a century, if not for the human genetics that remain susceptible to human weaknesses and disease. True immortality afflicts only the faeries and the vampires of your world—and even then, there are still ways that those folk can die.
“He lived a long life,” you say after a moment’s hesitation, grasping onto any semblance of comfort you can offer. Together, you and Hoseok come to a stop in the shadow of the tree, peering at the closed casket where his grandfather lays. “And it was a good, just life. Not all of us can say that.”
A lone, wet droplet falls onto the polished mahogany, and Hoseok hastily wipes his eyes, tilting his head skyward. “Not long enough,” he whispers. “He still had so much to do. I… I still have so much I wanted to do—to say. And now I’ll never be able to.”
You caress a thumb across his knuckles, the motion soft and tender. “I know. And I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”
Hoseok glances down at that, a glimmer of something manic and desperate swimming in his amber-flecked irises. “You could,” he says, grabbing both your hands and clutching them to his chest like a lifeline. “You could bring him back. You know how, don’t you?”
You shake your head sadly, hating the way his frown deepens as you free yourself from his grasp. “That’s forbidden magic, Hobi. That’s necromancy. You know I can’t do that.”
Hoseok’s entire body sags, his shoulders slumping as he lets out a heavy sigh. Instinctively, you step forward to wrap him in a hug, and he loops his arms around your waist automatically, pulling you flush against him. “I know,” he mumbles into your hair. Then he huffs out a dry chuckle, humorless and deprecating. “Fuck. I’m a mess, huh?”
You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Instead, you hold him a little tighter, rubbing his back soothingly in long, slow motions—the same way his mother used to do during bedtime. His heart thuds erratically in his chest, fast and frenzied like a caged bird, but lulls as you continue your ministrations, settling into an even rhythm once more.
“Thank you,” he murmurs after a few moments, his warm breath caressing your cheek. “For coming today. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“You can do anything, Hobi,” you reassure, running a thumb along the sharp line of his jaw when he raises his head to look at you. “With or without me. But… you’re welcome, all the same.”
Your presence at this funeral is unusual, and both you and Hoseok know it. Werewolf packs tend to keep their rites and ceremonies private, and the Gwangju pack is no different. Led by Hoseok’s father, and his late grandfather before him, the werewolves of the city have rapidly risen to prominence and power, aided in large part by the founding of JungTech. The company, started by Hoseok’s grandfather, began as a small operation in a battered old warehouse, but quickly grew to become one of Gwangju’s biggest corporations after the signing of the Accords twenty years ago. The peace treaty marked the start of a tenuous coexistence between humankind and Shadowfolk, and, together with your fellow witches—along with the werewolves, vampires, and the few fair folk who decided to leave their homes deep in the forests—you migrated into cities all over the country to forge new lives.
It’s proven easier for some. While the wolves of the city have found tolerance—acceptance, even—you have not fared quite as well. Humans, you have found, tend to fear the ancient magic that runs through your veins. Though nothing you’ve faced comes remotely close to what your ancestors faced in centuries past, you remain wary of those who take a little too much interest in your abilities.
You’re a bit paranoid, your familiar, Bast, has remarked on more than one occasion. But it’s justified, so I suppose it’s all right.
As if sensing that your thoughts have turned to him, Bast stirs in the back of your mind. You feel him yawn and stretch lazily before there’s a tug on the soles of your feet, as if the force of gravity has suddenly, inexplicably doubled. Then he’s materializing—morphing out of the spot where your shadow would be if the sun were shining, taking the form of an inky black cat with sharp, golden eyes. Hoseok perks up when Bast loops between his ankles, and immediately squats down to scratch behind his ears, a small smile settling across his face as a low, content purr rumbles up from beneath his fingertips. From elsewhere in the clearing, a single howl rises up into the air, forlorn and wavering.
It’s starting, Bast says in your head. At the same time, Hoseok straightens to his full height, fiddling with the hem of his black jacket and looking over at you tentatively.
“Sounds like they’re getting started,” he says.
You nod. “I should go.”
Hoseok opens his mouth as if to protest—as if to say no, stay—but you know better and cut him off with a single raised finger.
“I’ll go,” you murmur. “This is a private rite, and I don’t want to break centuries of tradition by overstaying my welcome. Go join your pack, Hobi.”
“Will I see you later?”
“Without a doubt.”
Your parting gesture is to reach out and grab his hand, tucking a little drawstring bag into his palm and closing his fingers over it. “Valerian root and chamomile,” you tell him gently, taking in his rumpled collar and the dark bags beneath his eyes. “Make some tea tonight. It’ll help.”
Hoseok swallows and nods, his features softening as he gazes down at his hand cupped in your smaller ones. He looks like he wants to say something, but another howl interrupts, disrupting whatever thoughts he may have had. Instead, he nods again, murmuring a soft goodbye before turning on his heel to join the rest of the pack gathering around the raised casket. You turn as well, leaving behind the ancient clearing with Bast trotting by your side.
Up above, the heavens finally open, drenching the dirt path beneath your feet with rain. And behind you, the single howl is joined by dozens more, echoing mournfully up into the weeping sky.
///
You’re in the middle of straightening out a display of dittany when the kettle begins to boil, emitting three short, shrill whistles accompanied by a long stream of whirling steam. When silence falls over the shop once more, you wander over to where the kettle sits—atop a small wooden end table next to an old wardrobe. It’s an old relic that’s been passed down through generations of witches in your family, wrought out of silvery metal and suspended in an iron frame above a single lit candle. The flame is glowing pink, flickering in a nonexistent gust of wind, and you smile. Quietly, you grab two teacups from a nearby shelf.
Not two seconds later, the door of the old wardrobe creaks open, revealing the familiar face of Kim Seokjin behind it. A fellow witch and a good friend of yours, Jin has made a name for himself as a baker, running a café in Seoul that offers all sorts of confections—both with magical properties and without. His hair is dyed a muted dusty rose—a stark contrast to the casual black hoodie and jeans he’s wearing—and you reach out to push a stray lock back from his forehead in lieu of a greeting.
“Your hair’s pink again,” you remark. “I like it.”
Jin grins, his plush lips pulling back to reveal perfect teeth. “Thanks.” Carefully, he steps out of the wardrobe and shuts the door behind him. A beat of silence passes, and you take the opportunity to select a canister of tea leaves. You don’t miss the flicker of solemnity that settles into Jin’s features, though, listening as he clears his throat before voicing the question that is undoubtedly the reason behind his unexpected visit.
“So. How’s Hoseok holding up?”
Jin has never been one to mince his words. You suppose you appreciate that about him.
Quietly, you lift the kettle out of its stand and beckon for him to join you at the little wooden table at the front of your shop. It’s tucked neatly into the nook carved out by one of the two bay windows on either side of the front door, flanked by two well-worn, mismatched chairs. Atop it sits a pile of books—everything from ancient remedies to common household spells.
One book in particular always sits open—a detailed list of all the herbs and plants you carry in your shop, along with the various concoctions you’ve created with them. Hellebore, the spine of the book reads, and it’s the same word that graces your storefront in flowing, golden text. An apothecary of sorts, you spend your days dealing out potions and remedies to those in need, both human and Shadowfolk. You do your best to help, for all the times modern medicine has come up short and left someone wanting.
“Honestly? I don’t think he’s been sleeping.” You set the teacups down onto the table and fill them both before handing one over to Jin. “I saw him this morning, at the funeral. He looked exhausted.”
Jin’s brows disappear behind his pink hair. “You went to the funeral?”
“I didn’t stay,” you clarify, taking a sip of your tea. “Just wanted to drop by, say hello, and pay my respects.”
“Werewolves are a private bunch,” Jin remarks. “I’m surprised.”
You shrug. “Hoseok wanted me to be there. So I went.”
“I see.” He doesn’t say anything further, and neither do you, lapsing instead into a comfortable silence that’s broken only by the occasional sip of tea and the clinking of china. Your gaze wanders, drifting over to the front door of your shop, painted a cheerful green and set with a flowery stained glass window that throws kaleidoscopic rainbows across the cream walls and dark wooden floor. Sunlight streams through the wide bay windows, illuminating the interior in warm, hazy gold. On the other side of the room, Bast is curled up, fast asleep on his favorite plush bench beside the glass door that leads to the greenhouse, perfectly haloed by the sun.
“Must be nice being able to fall asleep anywhere,” you mutter, almost to yourself.
Jin hears you anyway, a chuckle escaping his lips. “You sound jealous.”
“Maybe I am,” you reply, laughing with him. “Speaking of which, where’s Adam? Did he stay home?”
Jin nods, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the wardrobe. “Yeah, he’s keeping an eye on the café. Told me to say hi to you for him, though.”
You giggle at the thought of Jin’s familiar, a long-haired sheepdog with a stubborn streak the size of the Nile and blatant disdain for following orders—especially those that come from Jin himself. “Keeping watch, or trashing the place?” you tease.
“With my luck, probably both,” Jin admits with a sigh. “I should probably get back there soon. He ate all the egg tarts last time.”
“Bring him with you next time,” you advise. “Bast will keep him entertained.”
He grins. “I don’t doubt it.”
Finishing off the last of his tea, he stands up and taps the rim of his cup, murmuring a soft cleaning spell under his breath. You smile gratefully as he replaces it back onto the shelf with the others, and stand to walk him back over to the wardrobe. Opening up the creaky door, you watch him clamber inside, standing amongst the hanging coats and the single pair of shoes on the bottom shelf.
“See you later,” you murmur. “Give Adam my best.”
Jin nods. “See you.”
He shuts the door, and you watch the flame of the candle once again turn a soft, roseate pink. It flickers briefly, dancing in an invisible breeze, before reverting back to the color of regular fire, signaling Jin’s departure. Quietly, you clean your own teacup and return it to the shelf.
The remainder of the afternoon passes with few customers, so you opt to close down early and head to your apartment, located up a short flight of stairs on the second floor of the shop. You’re rifling through the refrigerator for dinner ingredients and humming softly under your breath when your phone suddenly rings, Hoseok’s name lighting up the screen in bright white text. “Hey, Hobi,” you say, swiping across the glass to answer. “What’s up?”
On the other end of the line, Hoseok exhales shakily. “Can you come over?”
You blink, glancing at the darkening sky outside. “Now?”
“Yeah. Fuck, sorry. I know it’s late, but I really… I really need to talk to someone. I—” His voice cracks, and your heart sinks. “I need you.”
“Say no more.” Straightening up, you shut the refrigerator door and tug off your apron. “I’ll be there in half an hour. Have you eaten yet?”
Hoseok sighs. “No.”
“I’ll bring takeout,” you decide, already glancing around for your purse. “See you soon, okay?”
Bidding him farewell, you don your coat and head out the door, locking up behind you. Hoseok lives downtown in a sleek, modern penthouse that’s normally a twenty-minute walk away from Hellebore, but after stopping by the restaurant on the corner for food, you opt to catch the bus instead. Fifteen minutes after you hang up the phone, you are rapping the bronze knocker on Hoseok’s front door, a paper bag and a bottle of wine in hand.
Almost instantly, the door is flung open. Hoseok stands in the threshold as if he’s been waiting there, his auburn hair wild and his eyes even wilder. His aura is turbulent, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You raise the bag. “I brought dinner.”
“You’re the best,” he sighs, stepping aside to let you in.
Hoseok’s apartment toes the line between modern and cozy in a way that only Hoseok’s apartment could—with lush green plants and plushy, earth-toned furniture to offset the cold impersonality of the floor-to-ceiling windows and the stainless steel kitchen. Flicking on the kitchen light, you set the food down on the granite countertop and grab two wine glasses out of the cabinet. Hoseok sidles over as you pour a generous helping into each glass, rifling through the silverware drawer for utensils.
“Smells good,” he murmurs, popping a box open. “I’m starving. Thanks for bringing dinner.”
You brush off his gratitude and hand him a glass, raising yours so you can clink it gently against his. Quietly, the two of you fall into a comfortable routine, with Hoseok grabbing the food and you grabbing the bottle of wine to bring into the living room. You help him clear off the coffee table and arrange the food, then settle onto the couch beside him, sipping your drink in silence and patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts. Years of friendship have taught you that he’ll talk when he’s ready, and you’re content to wait as long as he needs.
Sighing, Hoseok tips the rest of his wine back into his mouth before setting the empty glass down with a soft plink. “So,” he begins, not quite looking you in the eye. “My dad and I had lunch today.”
You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue. He takes several more seconds to muster up the words, and when he finally finds them, they’re exhaled in a tumbling rush. “He told me that he’s pleased with how I’m running JungTech. It’s been over a year, and things are going well… so he wants to expedite my takeover of the pack. In two months, he wants me to take over as the alpha. And…” He swallows. “He wants me to settle down.”
Perturbed, you blink. “What?”
Hoseok finally looks at you, his expression frighteningly devoid of emotion. “He wants me to get married, {Name}.”
Comprehension doesn’t settle in right away. But when it does, your jaw drops to the floor, landing somewhere alongside the ornamental persian carpet and a stray sock that has no doubt jumped ship from Hoseok’s laundry.
“W-what?” you manage after a few long seconds of gaping at him. “Why? Why now? That’s so… that’s completely out of the blue.”
Hoseok shakes his head, a few shaggy strands of auburn hair falling across his forehead and into his eyes. “It’s not, actually. He’s been talking about it for a long time—trying to arrange something with one of the other pack families. It’s tradition, you know? Mating within the pack, keeping the bloodlines pure through marriage. The difference is that Pops always talked him out of it. Always said I was too young, that there was no rush, that I should wait for someone I love, my true mate...” He sighs, heavily. “But he’s gone now. And Dad’s decided that he’s done waiting.”
You shouldn’t ask. You shouldn’t, because you know it’ll hurt, but the question comes regardless—leaving your lips in a near whisper. “Who?”
Hoseok takes a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he exhales. “Do you remember Im Nayeon?”
You do. You’ve known Nayeon almost as long as you’ve known Hoseok—the three of you having attended the same schools starting from elementary all the way up until Hoseok left to attend university in Seoul. Admittedly, you were never close—and if you were completely honest, you always found her to be a bit disingenuous for your tastes. Nevertheless, you often found yourself at the same events—parties and gatherings you attended at Hoseok’s request, and that she was privy to due to her family’s high-ranking status within the Gwangju pack.
“I remember,” you tell him, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. “Does… does she know yet? Have you met up with her?”
Hoseok nods. “She was there this morning, at the funeral. We talked a little bit and got coffee after, but… this is all happening so fast.” Slowly, he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling, a sigh escaping his parted lips. “But there’s nothing I can do, right? It’s enough that Dad’s somehow talked Mom into the whole thing, but now he’s gotten the Council on board too. Did you know that Nayeon has an uncle on the Council? It’s insane, right?”
“Insane,” you agree in a whisper, doing your best to ignore the way your heart is splintering at the edges.
“You know, I always thought my Dad pressuring me was bad.” Hoseok buries his face in his hands, peering at you from between his splayed fingers when you hum in acknowledgment. “But this? The entire Council on my back? This is way worse.”
“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else there is to say. Your ribcage feels like it’s been split open and filled with burning coals, weighing hot and heavy on your insides.
Hoseok has dated in the past, of course. You both have—chasing that elusive, fluttery feeling called love and never quite being able to catch it and hold on. Hoseok’s last relationship fizzled long before he graduated from university, having lasted only about six months. You distinctly remember meeting the girl during one of your frequent visits to Seoul, at a small party hosted by Hoseok and his friends. By your next visit, however, things had already ended. He never really told you why the breakup occurred either—only that the relationship never would have lasted in the long run.
Perhaps foolishly, you chose not to pry.
“Is there anything I can do?” you ask softly. Reaching out, you take ahold of his hand and tug it into your lap, threading your fingers into the gaps between his. The gesture is familiar and comforting, like cocoa in front of a lit fireplace, and you can’t even begin to fathom the idea of another person sitting here and holding his hand in your stead.
“Just talk to me,” Hoseok entreaties, squeezing your fingers. “Distract me. What’s going on with you?”
You hum, swallowing down the lump in your throat and letting your head fall onto his shoulder as you pick through the events of the past week for the most interesting tidbits. “Bast has been bringing me dead rats lately,” you finally say, nose scrunching at the memory. “You should see the size of them—they’re almost bigger than he is. And they smell like the sewers, because I’m ninety-nine percent sure that’s where he’s getting them from. It’s horrid.”
Hoseok huffs out a stilted laugh. “Sewer rats? Gross.”
“It’s not all bad, to be honest,” you tell him, nestling a little closer to the warmth of his body. Hoseok keeps his apartment chillier than you’re accustomed to, and you’re beyond grateful for the furnace-like heat he gives off naturally. “The bones are pretty useful. The tails too, provided you don’t tell people what they actually are.”
His laugh is much more genuine this time. “Tricky little minx,” he says, amusement lacing his tone. “I’ve always liked that about you.”
You ignore the uptick in your heart rate at his approval, grateful that he can’t see your face as a pulse of heat flushes your cheeks. Instead, you burrow into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. Hoseok smells like the forest—fresh and woodsy, with a slight floral undercurrent from his fabric softener. It smells like home, and you smile when his arm comes up to wrap around your shoulders.
“Jin came by today,” you murmur.
“Yeah?” The monosyllabic response rumbles through his chest.
“Yeah. He asked about you, too. You should probably text him later.”
Hoseok hums a confirmation, and, satisfied, you cuddle a little closer to him. You pull at the afghan he keeps laid over the back of the couch, laying it comfortably over your lap as he rests his head gently atop yours, his ear pressed to your crown. Your eyes fall shut as you listen to the rhythmic thud of his pulse—solid and steady, backed by the soft hum of the refrigerator and distant traffic on the street far below.
It’s comfortable, sitting with him like this. Comfortable, stroking his arm with your fingertips, in time with the drumbeat of his heart. Ever so gradually, Hoseok’s breathing evens out, and you briefly think that you could stay like this—encapsulated in this delicate, iridescent bubble of contentment—for the rest of your life.
You know the thing about bubbles, though? Bast remarks dryly in your head. They burst.
I know, you sigh.
I know.
///
There’s something soothing about taking inventory—something calming in the repetition of walking down the aisles of Hellebore and restocking the shelves one by one. You’d woken this morning to an apologetic Hoseok making pancakes in the kitchen, his residual heat and woodsy scent lingering on the blanket tucked around your body. After a harried breakfast and a promise to text you later, Hoseok rushed off to the office.
You, in turn, returned to your shop, where you grabbed every ounce of cleaning supplies you possess and scrubbed the place from top to bottom, foregoing all of your usual dishwashing charms and dust-clearing jinxes. The physical labor is a welcome distraction from the events and revelations of last night, and you’ve thrown yourself wholeheartedly into all the chores you need to complete.
“Almost out of rosehip oil,” you mutter, eyeing the half-empty vial and making a note to extract more from one of several plants in your greenhouse. “Low on valerian too, hmm…”
The bell over the front door jingles merrily, diverting your attention away from your task. “{Name}?” a voice calls softly. A moment later, a familiar head of coppery red hair pops around the edge of the shelves, choppy bangs framing a soft, warm face. “Hey, there you are. You busy?”
You shake your head and shut your inventory book, setting it down on the nearest shelf. “Not terribly, no. What brings you here today, Lisa?”
Lisa’s answering smile is sheepish. “Got something to return,” she says, holding up a little glass jar full of lavender colored pills that you immediately recognize. “I’m guessing you’ve already heard the news. Looks like I won’t be needing these anymore, right?”
Your laugh sounds brittle, even to your own ears. “Right. Yeah. Not anymore.”
For just over ten years, Lisa has been the wolf assigned to help Hoseok through his heat. Between his family’s status and his longtime designation as the next alpha of the Gwangju pack, it’s imperative for Hoseok to avoid anything that might be perceived as scandalous. Torrid sex stories splashed across tabloid covers is the last thing a man like Hoseok needs, and that’s where Lisa comes in. Once a year, for three days, she goes to him, and no one is none the wiser. Her job is one that calls for the utmost discretion, and as the daughter of a high-ranking Council official, no one understood that better than she did. You’d only found out because of your role as one of the few witches in the country who makes and stocks the proper contraceptives for such wolves—the dosage much stronger than the human equivalent.
And when Lisa had first approached you to purchase the pills, you’d dropped two jars and nearly set fire to a third. Your stomach had fallen to somewhere around your toes, right alongside the shattered glass and little lavender tablets.
You’d chalked the accident up to surprise. Hoseok hadn’t mentioned anything to you, after all, and you’d known very little about the intricacies of werewolf heats back then, having just opened your shop at age eighteen. But surprise doesn’t explain the snaking jealousy that bubbles up in your tummy every time Lisa comes in to restock her supply of pills, nor does it explain the overwhelming sense of relief you feel now as she presses the unopened jar into your hands.
“I still can’t believe he’s going to be the most powerful man in Gwangju soon.” Lisa steps back, tucking her hair behind her ear and letting out a soft sigh. “And now he’s engaged, too. It’s pretty crazy, huh?”
“Crazy,” you agree tonelessly, turning to replace the jar onto the appropriate shelf.
Lisa, however, is nothing if not perceptive. A gentle hand lands on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey,” she begins, soft and slow. “You know you can talk to me, right? Are you—?”
But the sound of the bell drowns out the rest of her question, metallic and bright in the quiet of your shop. “Hello? Anyone home?” a cheery voice asks.
“Be right there,” you say immediately, shrugging off Lisa’s hand and stepping out from amongst the shelves. There’s a young woman standing at the checkout counter, rifling through the collection of seeds on display, and you cringe as she replaces a few packets in the wrong spots. “How can I help you?”
At the sound of your voice, the woman turns gracefully on her heel, her expression a perfectly crafted amalgamation of surprise and delight. “{Name}!” she exclaims, stepping forward with an outstretched arm. “Long time no see!”
“N-Nayeon,” you stammer, the shock of seeing her face freezing you in place. “What… what brings you here?”
The dark-haired woman steps forward to pull you into a hug, enveloping you in her fruity perfume. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to catch up with an old friend?” she asks playfully.
We were never friends, you want to say. In your head, Bast lets out a derisive snort of agreement. Lisa, you notice, has conveniently melted away somewhere amidst the organized chaos of your shop, disappearing into the myriad shelves and knickknacks.
“Plus, I really wanted to look at some flowers,” Nayeon continues, betraying her true purpose at last. “You’ve heard, haven’t you? About my engagement? I’m sure Hoseok—I mean, my fiancé—has mentioned it to you, of all people. You are his best friend, after all.”
The inside of the shop is beginning to feel stifling. Perspiration trickles down your neck and you tug at your collar, loosening the material from where it’s plastered against your skin. “Sure,” you manage, once you feel like you can breathe again. “Right. Sure. The flowers are right this way, if you want to follow me.”
I’d forgotten how much I don’t like her, your familiar remarks dryly in your head.
Shut up, Bast.
Mercifully, he does. There’s a tug on your feet, and you glance down just in time to see him morph out of the shadow you cast against the sun-drenched floor. Ghostly and amorphous at first, he quickly solidifies into the feline figure you’ve grown accustomed to, and slinks protectively around your ankles before darting off to perch in the cushioned bay window seat.
Conveniently, that’s also where the flower display is. Colorful blooms and trailing leaves adorn the wooden shelves and tables in this particular corner of the shop, and you force yourself to shift back into professional mode as you come to a stop in front of an assortment of honeysuckle. “So, what kind of flowers are you looking for?” you ask, brushing your fingers along the pale yellow petals.
Nayeon hums thoughtfully and picks up a potted rosebush, examining it from all angles. “Roses, maybe. Are roses too clichéd now?” She brings the crimson buds closer and inhales, eyes fluttering shut. “No matter. I’ve always liked them.”
“They’re beautiful,” you agree, turning your attention to the selection of roses lining the topmost shelf. “Do you have a color preferen—?”
“Or maybe these would be better,” Nayeon interrupts, plucking up a pale pink calla lily from the bouquet you keep in a table display. “Or that one—what is it?”
You follow the trajectory of her gaze to a bunch of little white flowers with golden centers, stark against the dark dirt and surrounding green foliage. “That would be bloodroot,” you answer. “One of my personal favorites—it’s both ornamental and medicinal. It would look lovely in a bouquet.”
Nayeon pulls a face and shakes her head. “No, no—I don’t want anything with such a horrible name. What about these?” she asks, reaching up to take a closer look at a larger bloom. “Peonies, right?”
By the time Nayeon makes it back to the checkout counter with a few sample rose cuttings in hand, you’re fairly certain that several eternities have passed. “Is there anything else you need?” you ask as you ring her up and wrap the flowers neatly in paper.
“A discount for an old friend?” she queries, shooting you a playful wink. When you don’t answer right away, she giggles. “I’m kidding! Obviously, I’ll pay. It’s not like I’m pressed for money—I mean, you’ve seen who my fiancé is, right? Now gosh, where did I put my wallet?”
Your cheeks are beginning to feel far too hot. Nayeon is still rummaging in her purse, and you quickly duck beneath the counter under the pretense of looking for some ribbon to tie off the bouquet. Fanning your face, you take a few deep breaths, listening as she continues chattering away.
“We’re having dinner tonight, actually, Hoseok and I. It’ll be our second real date, and… wait!” She gasps, and you peer up just in time to see her slap a hand over her perfectly lacquered mouth. “You should come! Bring someone, if you can—it’ll be like a double date!”
If you can? Bast snipes. Curse her.
You sigh inwardly and straighten back up, ribbon in hand. Shut up, Bast.
If you won’t, I will.
You’ll do no such thing.
Mustering up your best, most earnest smile, you hand over the wrapped flowers along with her change. “That sounds like fun,” you tell her, ignoring the way your insides lurch at the lie. “When and where?”
Nayeon beams and rattles off the address of an unfamiliar restaurant. “Don’t be late!” she calls as she heads for the door. The bell jangles cheerily as she departs, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, Lisa pokes her head around a nearby bookshelf.
“Finally,” she sighs, walking over to join you. “I thought she’d never leave.”
Ordinarily, you wouldn’t dare speak ill of a customer, but you’re willing to make an exception today. “You and me both,” you reply, watching as Bast slinks over like a shadow and hops onto the counter beside you. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your elbow in silent solidarity, and you mindlessly begin scratching behind his ears as Lisa speaks again.
“Are you really going to go to that dinner tonight?”
You meet her gaze, shrugging. “I already said I would. Do I really have a choice?”
There isn’t much else to say, and both you and she know it. Pushing off from where she’s leaning against the countertop, Lisa flips her coppery hair over her shoulder and shoots you a look, brown eyes full of sympathy. “Good luck,” she says sincerely. You get the feeling that she wants to say something else, but decides against it at the last minute. Instead, she bids you goodbye and walks out with a wave and another chime of the bell. Silence settles over the shop once more, and you allow yourself a few moments to breathe—slow and deep, in and out—before picking up your phone and opening up the most recent text messages. It doesn’t take long to find the name you’re looking for, but you still pause, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, before you begin to type.
[4:21pm] You: how would you like to join me for a very awkward dinner date?
[4:21pm] Jin: consider me intrigued.
///
You and Jin arrive at the restaurant first. It’s an ornate, palatial place with tuxedoed waitstaff and a coat room, and despite giving the name ‘Jung’ at the door, you’re certain that Hoseok played no part in the venue selection. The host ushers you to a booth tucked in the back, the cushioned seats a velvety burgundy and a chandelier glittering overhead, throwing refracted, iridescent light across the veined marble table. All of a sudden, the simple black dress you’re wearing feels painfully inadequate. Glancing down at your feet, you wonder if you should have worn heels instead.
Beside you, Jin cuts a striking figure in a creamy silk shirt with ribbons that tie into a bow at his throat, the material loose and flowy up until where it tucks into fitted black slacks. His pink hair complements the elegant outfit perfectly, parted and swept off his forehead to reveal his dark brows.
As if reading your mind, he lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You look beautiful,” he says, before gesturing at the booth. “Now, do you want the inside or outside? Think you’ll need to make a quick getaway at some point?”
“Probably,” you sigh. Jin nods and sits down first, and you watch him slide across the seat cushion before settling in beside him. “I still can’t believe you volunteered to be here,” you murmur, plucking up one of the folded cloth napkins and fiddling with the crisp white edges. “You’re a saint, I swear.”
Jin chuckles and plucks the napkin from your clasped hands, laying it across your lap instead. “Not a saint,” he says, matching your soft tone. “Just someone who cares about you.”
Your cheeks warm at his sudden proximity. “Thank you,” you tell him, for what must be the umpteenth time. “I can’t even imagine what I’d do without you.”
“Good thing you don’t have to, then,” he replies with a grin. “Now, chin up. They just walked in.”
You can’t help the groan that escapes you. “Is it too late to run?”
“Afraid so,” he answers honestly.
And then Nayeon is slipping into the cushioned seat opposite you, syrupy smile in place on her berry lacquered lips. “Hi!” she chirps, laying a hand on Hoseok’s arm as he sits down beside her. “Sorry we’re late. We, um…” She pauses and shoots Hoseok a conspiratorial look, giggling. “... lost track of the time.”
Your magic flares, hot and bright in your veins, and you know Jin feels it too when he lays a cautionary hand on your knee beneath the table. “We weren’t waiting long,” he says, offering the two a genial smile. He’s perfectly polite as he and Nayeon exchange quick introductions, and gestures toward the assortment of menus on the table as soon as everyone has settled down. “Why don’t we order some wine to start?”
“Oh, that’s a splendid idea! Isn’t that a splendid idea, Hoseok?” Nayeon turns to the auburn-haired man beside her, and you do the same, gaze landing on Hoseok for the first time tonight. He’s in an all black ensemble, sharp jacket layered over a silky black shirt, the top buttons loosened to bare a tantalizing sliver of golden skin. His auburn hair is parted, a stray lock falling across his forehead, and you shiver when you realize he’s staring right back at you with dark, unreadable eyes.
At the sound of Nayeon’s voice, Hoseok seems to snap out of his trance, his expression smoothing out as he plasters on a smile. “Take a look at the menu,” he says, picking up the leather-bound book and offering it to her. “Dinner’s on me.”
You blink. “We can’t let you do that, Hobi.”
“Let me pick up at least part of the tab,” Jin adds, already reaching for his wallet. “I’m no corporate bigshot, but I do well enough for myself.”
“No need to be modest,” you chime in, nudging him playfully. “Weren’t you just telling me about your new restaurant opening on the way over? Next week, right?”
Jin’s ears redden as all the attention is turned onto him. “Next week, yeah.”
“That’s amazing!” Nayeon chirps, pressing closer to Hoseok. “We’ll have to check it out sometime. Maybe a date night, right, darling?”
Hoseok busies himself with rearranging his cutlery, swapping the knife and fork around. “Right—sure. If we ever make it up to Seoul, we’ll, uh… we’ll definitely stop by. Congratulations, man.”
The conversation continues. A server stops by to take your wine order, and Jin decides on a moderately priced bottle of cabernet sauvignon. Glasses are brought over, and wine is poured. Hoseok finishes his quickly and pours himself another, and though his wolf metabolism prevents him from getting drunk off of regular wine, you know that he’s a bit of a lightweight and tends to avoid drinking heavily no matter what the beverage. He’s drinking with a purpose tonight, and you’re beyond grateful when Jin pipes up with yet another story when the conversation lulls.
“And then I found out that the oven was on the whole time! Adam would probably let the entire apartment go up in flames just to spite me—I should watch my back.”
“Or, you know, just watch the oven more closely,” you tease. “I’ve seen your place, Jin—it’s a complete fire hazard. It’s a wonder it hasn’t burned to the ground already.”
Jin sniffs. “You’re exaggerating. Stop making me look bad.”
“You make yourself look bad,” you retort, laughing when his lower lip juts out into a pout.
Across the table, Hoseok clears his throat. “Speaking of fire hazards—did I ever tell you about the time {Name} set me on fire?”
“I did no such thing!” you protest, reaching over to slap his arm. “I mean, okay, maybe a little bit, but that was one time! And you were barely singed!”
Hoseok snorts out a laugh. “Barely singed? I couldn’t sit properly for a week.”
“Oh please, that’s a lie and you know it!”
Nayeon interrupts your conversation with a loud huff, setting her wineglass down with enough force to thud against the veined marble tabletop. “Do one of you maybe want to fill us in on the joke here?”
Abashed, you glance back at Hoseok, watching as his smile slowly fades back into the careful, neutral expression he’s worn all evening. “Sorry,” you murmur. “It’s an old story from when we were kids—when we first met, actually. We were seven years old, and it was the second day of school. I didn’t have a very good handle on my magic yet, and accidentally set Hoseok’s tail on fire during recess.”
“I preferred to run around in my wolf form back then,” Hoseok further elaborates. “There was a big field out behind the school—remember that, {Name}?”
You nod. “Of course. It went right up to the very edge of the woods. And if you kept going and went far enough, you reached the old wooden bridge.”
Hoseok is smiling again, soft and fond. “That thing was a death trap.”
“But the teachers could never keep us away,” you say, grinning at him.
“All right,” Nayeon interrupts again, sniffing disdainfully. “Enough about the old days—I think it’s time to talk about the present. And more importantly, the future.” She sighs happily and props her chin up in her palm, ensuring that the delicate golden band on her ring finger is on full display, the metal glimmering in the warm light. “You’re both invited to the wedding, of course. And I never did properly thank you for the flowers today, {Name}!”
Her words seem to come as a surprise to Hoseok, who straightens up in his seat. “Flowers? You visited Hellebore today?”
“Of course I did!” Nayeon hides a giggle behind a manicured hand. “I wouldn’t even think of trusting anyone else with my bouquet.”
Hoseok’s gaze skitters over to you, awash with concern and tinged with apology, but you ignore him in favor of forcing your expression into something that’s meant to be a smile. Yet no matter how much you strain your cheeks and stretch your lips, it feels—and looks, you’re sure—far more like a grimace.
“I’m happy to do it,” you lie, your teeth gritted and tight. “I don’t mind it one bit.”
///
“So. That was just as awkward as promised.”
You and Jin are walking back to Hellebore, leaving behind the bustling downtown area for the darker, quieter streets of your neighborhood. Your companion’s hair is tinged orange in the glow from the streetlamps, and you can only chuckle humorlessly when he turns to you and raises his eyebrows.
“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I was duly warned,” Jin agrees.
A car drives by, the headlights throwing Jin’s profile into stark relief. His expression is solemn but he doesn’t say anything else and neither do you. The remainder of the walk passes in silence, broken only by the occasional strain of conversation from passersby and the low drone of late night traffic. You reach Hellebore with no incidents, and you muffle a yawn as Jin steps into the wardrobe to go back to Seoul.
Just before he shuts the door behind him, he shoots you a meaningful glance over his shoulder. “You should tell him how you feel, you know. He deserves to know. And you… you deserve to be happy.”
He doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t need him to. Long after he’s gone, his remark echoes in your head, and no matter what, you simply cannot seem to shake it.
///
It’s been years since you’ve last gone to the old bridge, but after last night’s conversation you find yourself pulled back, lured by the promise of memories of a kinder time. The forest beyond the field hasn’t changed much since your school days, and neither, you realize, has the bridge itself. It still stands tall, proudly spanning the steep ravine that your teachers warned you about, the rickety wood splitting apart at the seams and overgrown with lichen and climbing ivy. Far below, the white-capped river rushes by on its long, turbulent journey to the sea.
Carefully, you step onto the bridge—first one foot, then the other. The energy in the air shifts as soon as your feet leave the loamy earth, finding traction instead on hewn wood, and you sigh as your fingertips brush against the railing. The magic here is an old magic—different from the ancient magic that dwells in places like the werewolves’ clearing and the realms of the fae. The low thrum of it fills the air and seeps into your veins, quickening your pulse and prickling your skin.
“I thought you might be here.” The voice comes from your left, barely audible over the rush of the river.
“You thought right,” you reply, stepping forward until you’re toeing the railing and leaning over to stare down into the swirling, eddying waters below.
Hoseok joins you at the edge. His profile is stark against the leafy green backdrop, and for a few moments, all is still. Then: “I’m really sorry about last night.”
The apology hangs in the silence for a few moments before fading into the sound of churning water and wind whistling through the trees. You suck in a deep breath, oxygen swelling your lungs until you can hold it in no longer, before letting it escape in a resigned sigh.
“You don’t have to apologize to me, Hoseok.”
“Maybe not. But I want to.” He shoots you a sidelong glance. “Will you let me make it up to you?”
You raise a brow. “Make it up to me? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”
“Anything you want.” Hoseok smiles crookedly, but you can’t quell the tumult brewing in your belly.
“What do you want, Hobi?”
His smile fades. “I—” He stops and shakes his head, auburn hair flying. “It doesn’t matter what I want. This is about you.”
You gaze up at him, taking in the sharp cut of his jawline and the straight angle of his nose. Your eyes trail along the smooth slope of his rounded cheeks and the soft curve of his mouth, lingering on the little mole atop his upper lip.
And then you reach out and take his hand, savoring the way his fingers immediately, comfortably settle into the spaces between your own. “Why don’t we head down to the river?” you ask. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been, and I’ve missed it.”
Hoseok’s expression softens, a glimmer of something bright shining in his amber-flecked irises. Gently, he tugs on your hand, taking the lead as you leave the bridge behind and head north in search of the sloping path that will take you down and into the ravine that houses the riverbed. You chance a few glances over the treacherous edge, watching the water froth and tumble over the rocks.
“You know, this seems a lot more dangerous now than it did back then,” you muse. “I see why our teachers were always trying to keep us away.”
“We were kids back then,” Hoseok says, grinning. “We thought we were invincible. Nothing could touch us.”
“Simpler times,” you agree with a laugh. “I set your tail on fire, you cried—”
“—and then we became lifelong friends,” Hoseok finishes, joining in your mirth. “Easy-peasy.”
Together, you locate the path down to the ravine. The descent is easier than it was back then, your longer limbs extending your reach, but you’re grateful for Hoseok’s steadying hand all the same. He carefully guides you around the biggest rocks and tree roots, pulling you closer when you lose your footing near the bottom. His fingers remain twined with yours even after you’ve safely arrived at the riverbed, stepping across stones that have been worn smooth and warmed by the sun. You slip off your shoes, letting them dangle from your free hand, and Hoseok does the same.
Sunlight glitters off the water, throwing a thousand refractive diamonds across the surface, but when you dip your toes in you find that it’s cold as a mountain spring in autumn. That doesn’t stop Hoseok from bending down to splash you though, and you shriek in surprise before retaliating with a silent spell that sends icy water splattering across the faded denim of his jeans.
“That’s not fair!” he protests. “You can’t use magic!”
“I’m just using every resource available to me,” you reply with a sly grin, sending a swelling wave of water toward him with a lazy twist of your hand.
From beneath his drenched hair, Hoseok raises a challenging brow in your direction. “Oh yeah?”
Before you can even blink, he’s shrugging off his jacket and pulling his shirt over his head, baring a taut, honeyed abdomen and toned arms. Tossing the discarded clothes onto the bank, he unfastens his belt and lets that drop as well, fixing you with a crooked little smirk all the while. The muscles in his torso ripple.
And then he’s shifting—limbs elongating and reddish-brown fur sprouting from his skin. His remaining clothing rips under the strain of the transformation, floating downstream in tattered shreds, but you don’t pay them any mind. No matter how many times you’ve watched Hoseok shift, you’ll never quite get used to it. He hunches over, more beast than man at this point, his chest rumbling. And before you know it—before you can even pinpoint exactly when the transformation is complete—he’s standing before you as a massive russet wolf, baring ferociously sharp teeth that you know could easily tear a man limb from limb.
His eyes, however, remain the same—warm, molten brown flecked with amber and gold, a devilish twinkle lurking in their depths. You cock your head to the side in a silent challenge, and swear that the wolf in front of you grins before pouncing forward, landing in the river with an enormous splash that leaves you thoroughly drenched.
“Now we’re both soaked!” you cry in between giggles, watching as Hoseok emerges from the water, his fur dampened black and dripping. “How is this a win for you?”
Hoseok rears back and lets loose a triumphant howl, shaking himself out and further drenching you with the spray of water from his coat. You squeal and back up several steps, batting him away, but Hoseok just presses closer and nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck. His body heaves with every breath, flaring hot against your skin, and for a few long moments, you simply stand there, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as icy water rushes past your ankles.
After what feels like an eternity, you step back, releasing Hoseok and staring up into his face. Even in his wolf form, he towers over you, and you reach up to stroke his muzzle tenderly before bopping him on the nose. “Come on,” you murmur. “Let’s dry off.”
Hoseok lets out a low rumble of agreement, and together, you make your way back to shore. You fold up his discarded clothing while he trots off to locate his shredded jeans, quickly finding them caught between some rocks and carrying the denim tatters back over to you in his teeth. Shaking your head, you add it to the growing pile and lay a hand atop it. Heat concentrates in your fingertips, mingling with the magic running through your veins. Stitch by stitch, his jeans repair themselves, drying in the process. Hoseok bumps your cheek with his nose in gratitude and darts off to change, and you dry your own clothes while you wait.
When Hoseok returns, he’s reverted to his human form, fully dressed and raking a hand through his damp hair. “Thanks for drying these off,” he says, flashing you a sheepish grin. “And for fixing my pants. Again.”
“Mending charms are easy,” you reply, and it’s the truth. Over the many years you’ve known Hoseok, you’ve mended his clothing countless times—from the accidental transformations in his early years, before he could control it, to the calculated ones as he got older. Hoseok doesn’t shift terribly often nowadays, but on occasion he still goes out to stretch his muscles and hunt with his pack. His grandfather, in particular, always made the time to take him hunting at least once a month. You wonder if he’s gone since he passed, but decide not to ask.
“Should we go see the Towers?” you ask instead.
“Lead the way,” he agrees, falling into step beside you as you head downstream. The ravine walls are higher here, decorated with gnarled roots and rocky outcrops that obscure the periwinkle sky and cast long shadows across the ground. Cairns begin to crop up on both sides of the river—each tower of stones carefully and deliberately stacked. They’re small and scattered at first, but gradually become taller and more frequent until you’re nearly surrounded by a forest of stone. The air grows noticeably heavier—the magic more potent. It almost feels as if electricity is dancing across your skin, the sparks sinking into your pores and melding with your soul.
Hoseok feels it too, if the look of awe in his eyes is any indication. “I can’t believe I’d nearly forgotten about this place,” he marvels, running a finger across one of the stacked stones. “Do you feel that? The magic?” Then he chuckles. “Wait, of course you do. What am I talking about?”
You smile softly, tracing the path his fingertips leave behind. “Yeah, Hobi. I feel it.”
The topmost stones are almost out of your reach now. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a gray pebble about the size of your palm—a near perfect disc veined with white. Gently, you place it atop the cairn closest to you, watching it glint in the sunlight for a moment before turning to your companion.
“Well?”
Ancient legend dictates that as long as an offering is left, one may take a stone from the Towers. You and Hoseok have each acquired a rather sizable collection during your childhood years, lured by the promise that the stones will bring about good fortune and happiness.
“I forgot to bring something,” Hoseok admits, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “But I can pick one out for you. Hang on…” He hums thoughtfully as he scans the towering pillars, tapping his chin until he alights on one in particular, plucking up a stone that’s been worn smooth, burnished orange and marbled with ivory and copper. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” you reply, admiring the way the marbled surface glitters in the sun.
Hoseok takes your hand and places the stone gently in your palm. “It’s yours.”
Then he’s off—stepping over a fallen log to admire another tower, brushing a curious finger across a moss-covered rock before glancing over his shoulder at you. “Coming?”
You nod, tucking his gift away safely in your pocket. Together, you carve out a path amongst the towering cairns, clambering over river rocks and brushing aside the dense undergrowth. The path opens up again gradually, revealing the burbling water to your left and the steep ravine wall to your right. The river is calmer here—clear enough to see all the way to the bottom where shimmering, silvery fish dart about. A low, flat rock juts out into the water a short ways away, and Hoseok strides over to plop atop it, gesturing for you to join him.
“This is nice,” he sighs once you’ve made yourself comfortable by his side. “The fresh air is doing me a world of good. I’ve been cooped up at the office for so long, I swear I almost forgot what trees smell like.”
“You’re more than welcome to sniff around the shop if you ever need a reminder,” you tell him, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Better yet, I’ll bring you a plant for your office. Spruce up the place a little bit.”
“That sounds great, actually,” he admits with a chuckle. “I don’t have your green thumb, though. I’ll probably end up accidentally killing it.”
“Something low maintenance, then,” you promise. “A succulent, maybe. When should I bring it by?”
Hoseok’s expression sombers. “You can always stop by tomorrow after the hearing.”
Your heart plummets into your stomach. The Ministry—the overarching government body that dictates all Shadowfolk affairs—summons every pack alpha for a confirmation hearing when they first come into power. “They’re holding the hearing? Already?”
He nods. “The Ministry’s summoned me for tomorrow morning. First item on their schedule, I’m pretty sure.” A resigned sigh escapes his lips, dissipating into mist on the air. “And there’s a party at JungTech HQ afterward. You know. So my dad can officially hand the reins over.”
“The most powerful man in Gwangju,” you murmur, thinking back to Lisa’s words.
Hoseok lets out a derisive snort. “Yeah, right. The most powerful man, beholden to his dad, the Council, and the entire fucking Ministry. It doesn’t matter what I want to do. Never has.”
It’s the second time he’s dismissed his feelings, and as much as you want to ask what it is he truly wants, you find that the words are stuck in your throat, your mouth suddenly as dry as the desert on a cloudless day. Instead, you lay a silent hand over his, feeling his warmth seep up into your palm.
“Hey.” Hoseok doesn’t tear his gaze away from the sky, watching a flock of birds fly overhead. “Yesterday, when Nayeon said she’d stopped by… did she say anything to you?”
The sound of her name leaving his lips leaves a sour taste on your tongue, but you swallow it down. “Not really,” you tell him. “She looked at some flowers and invited me to dinner. Simple as that.”
Hoseok nods slowly, lips pursed. “Was Jin already there when she came?”
You blink. “Jin? Oh, no—no, he wasn’t. I texted him after Nayeon left.”
“Ah.”
“I’m glad he was free, though.” You stare down into the water, where a curious fish swims in and out of the shadow you cast. “I’m honestly not sure who I could’ve invited if he hadn’t been available. Plus, it’s been ages since I’ve had dinner with him, and it’s been a few months since you’ve seen him too, right? I’m really happy it worked out.” You’re rambling now, but you can’t stop yourself. Hoseok has become eerily still, lost in introspection, and you feel obligated to fill the silence.
“You two make sense, you know.” Hoseok’s voice comes suddenly. “As a couple. Both witches—it makes a lot of sense.”
You peer over at him, eyes widening at his assumption. “We—we’re not actually together, Jin and I. We’re just friends.”
Hoseok straightens at that, his gaze flitting down to meet yours. “Really?”
“Really.”
A beat of silence. Hoseok looks like he wants to say something else, but a quiet buzz from his pocket stops him in his tracks. His mouth clamps shut as he checks his phone, teeth clicking together, and you can tell from the sudden tension in his jaw that it isn’t good news.
“Do you have to head back?”
He nods stiffly, silent apology written all over his face. “Work calls.”
You offer him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow after your hearing.”
He nods again and turns to leave. Before he can take too many steps, though, you call him back, reaching into your pocket to pull out the stone he’d gifted you earlier.
“Take this,” you murmur, pressing it into his hands. “I’m pretty sure you need it more than I do right now.”
Hoseok’s fingers curl protectively around the stone, holding on like it’s his only remaining lifeline. “Thanks.”
///
Downtown Gwangju is a monochrome forest of towering glass and steel, clamorous and unchecked by nature, proudly defiant in the face of the earth mother herself. The sidewalks are awash with people rushing back from their lunch break, forcing you to dodge around several businessmen too absorbed in their phones. Just as you are finding your footing again, a hapless intern carrying a tray of coffee cups rushes past, nearly crashing into you.
“Oh, shi—sorry! Sorry, oh, jeez. Are you okay?”
You wave off his apology with a smile, taking in the ill fit of his suit and the messy knot of his tie. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching out to help him steady the tray in his hands. A stabilizing spell—silently cast, the magic pulsing through your fingertips—should be enough to get him back to his office with no additional mishaps. You wonder if he’ll notice that his tray is suddenly more well-balanced, or that his hands have steadied.
But then again, you suppose it doesn’t really matter whether he does or not.
Somehow, someway, you make it to JungTech without running into anyone else. The receptionist recognizes you immediately and points you toward the elevator with a smile, and you thank her as you press the up button. It doesn’t take long to arrive, and you take a deep breath as you step inside, staring at your reflection in the mirrored walls.
All right? Bast queries, stirring awake in your mind.
You release the breath that you’d been holding in a long whoosh. Yeah. I’m all right.
The doors open on the top floor, and straight away, you are assailed by a cacophony of sounds. Scattered conversations and laughter intermingle with the clinking of champagne flutes. There are at least fifty people scattered around the open space that lies between the elevator and the glass-fronted CEO’s office at the very back—the office that bears Hoseok’s name on the door. There’s no sign of the man himself, but you have no doubt that he’s nearby. This entire party is a celebration for him, after all.
The elevator doors begin to close, and you quickly reach out to stop them, stepping out before it can protest at your dawdling. A young man in a pristine white shirt materializes on your right with a tray full of champagne flutes, and you pluck one off with a murmur of thanks. Sipping slowly, you wander around the perimeters of the party, listening to the lively chatter. Across the room, you spot Lisa, returning her friendly wave with one of your own.
“Hello, {Name}.”
The deep, familiar voice has you whirling around in an instant, head bowing in automatic deference. “Mr. Jung,” you murmur, not quite daring to look him in the eye. “It’s been a while.”
Hoseok’s father inclines his head in acknowledgment, salt-and-pepper hair gleaming beneath the fluorescent lights. No doubt he was a handsome man in his younger days, but the salt in his hair has steadily overtaken the pepper in the last few years, the stern lines around his mouth deepening.
“I didn’t know you would be joining us today,” he says cordially. “But then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised after all these years. Have you been here long?”
“Not long. Five minutes, maybe.” Beneath his piercing gaze, you feel like a small child again. Quickly, you scramble for something else to say, gesturing around the sleek glass interior of the office. “This is a lovely party. You must be so proud.”
Another nod. “I wasn’t sure that Hoseok was going to step up,” he admits. “I had my reservations about whether or not he would accept his duties as a Jung, but he has, and I’m pleased that he did. It’s no easy feat, running this company and leading the city’s pack. But I’ve served my time, just as my father did before me.” His gaze flits down to meet yours suddenly, and you find that you can’t read the emotion swimming in them. “I believe I spotted you at his funeral the other day, did I not?”
You nod, resisting the urge to take a sip from your nearly empty champagne glass as your cheeks warm under the scrutiny. “I was, yes. I’m very grateful to have had the opportunity to pay my respects. He was a great man.”
“That, he was,” Mr. Jung agrees. “Hoseok takes after him in many ways. My father—as great as he was—always had a soft spot for the boy. Coddled him a bit too much.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Jung, I think that’s a grandfather’s job,” you reply with a smile.
That earns you a smile in return, the lines around his mouth easing. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Hoseok’s father excuses himself to talk to the other guests, and you set off in search of Hoseok himself. You can feel his aura somewhere nearby, strong and steady, but the room is large enough that you cannot pinpoint his exact location. Not for the first time, you curse the fact that you don’t have a werewolf’s sharp sense of smell. No doubt it could easily be as cumbersome as it is helpful, but it would certainly help you right now.
Turning a corner, you are about to continue lamenting your average olfactory system when you suddenly catch a glimpse of familiar auburn hair, afloat in a sea of black suits. Dodging around a sharply dressed businesswoman and ducking beneath a waiter’s serving tray clears your path to Hoseok, and you’re milliseconds away from stepping forward to greet him when you feel it.
There’s an energy emanating from Hoseok, the likes of which you’ve never felt from him before. It’s heavy and commanding and so potent that the air is laden with it, and a cursory glance at the people surrounding him reveals that they feel it too—their gazes lowered, voices hushed and respectful. In his fitted black suit and emerald green shirt, he looks every bit the alpha he is, and you are quickly realizing that you’re not immune to the power radiating off of him. The Hoseok standing before you isn’t the same Hoseok whose tail you set on fire all those years ago. Far from it. The revelation is somehow simultaneously terrifying and thrilling, and your heart leaps into your throat when you notice that he’s waving you over.
As if compelled, you comply, striding forward until you’re standing before him. “Hi,” your murmur, suddenly feeling shy.
Hoseok’s face splits into a smile. “Hi yourself,” he says, and you would have laughed if your insides didn’t feel like they were about to burst.
“I, um. I brought you your succulent,” you tell him, reaching into your bag. There’s a tiny potted jade plant inside, packaged neatly into a box that you open up and present to him. “It’s jade. Easy to keep alive, and easy to propagate too, if you’re inclined.”
Hoseok accepts your gift, his smile growing as he admires the plump green leaves. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
You shrug and wave off his gratitude, fiddling to clasp your bag shut. “So,” you start, glancing around and gnawing on your bottom lip, completely missing the way Hoseok’s eyes darken as he follows the movement. “It looks like everything went well at the Ministry. Your dad is pleased.”
Hoseok hums, low in his throat. “You talked to him?”
“Yeah, just now.”
“I see.”
He looks like he wants to say something more, but he’s interrupted by a blur of motion and a shrill cry of his name. A moment later, Nayeon is at his side, latching onto his arm and batting her lashes, adorned in a form-fitting red dress and golden jewelry.
“Hoseok! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Then her gaze alights on you, eyes going wide as if she’s only just noticed your presence. “{Name}, oh my goodness. I almost didn’t see you there, hi!”
“Hello, Nayeon,” you grit out, unable to hide your scowl. You wonder if she spotted it before you hid it behind a large sip of champagne.
Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice. Her attention refocuses onto a spot behind you, and you watch as her expression lights up, delight etching across her features. “Mr. Jung!” she exclaims. “There’s my favorite future father-in-law. Come and join us—it’s not a party without you.”
Hoseok’s father chuckles lightly, coming forward to stand beside you. “Long time no see,” he jokes, nodding in your direction. “And Nayeon—hello. How are you enjoying the party?”
“Oh, I’m having the loveliest time,” she chirps, simpering up at Hoseok. “How could I not be, when my fiancé is here with me?” Then she smiles—her lips painted the same shade of red as her dress. “But I’m sure I’m nowhere near as happy as you are. You must be beyond excited to spend some quality time with your wife after being busy for so long.”
“I am,” Mr. Jung admits. The severity in his features softens as he seeks out his wife, standing across the room surrounded by friends and extended family. “I’m a very lucky man to have a woman like her.”
Nayeon giggles. “And I’m a lucky woman to have a man like your son. Isn’t that right, darling?”
She tilts her head to look up at Hoseok, who blinks twice in rapid succession, his throat bobbing. “Right,” he says, his voice raspy. “The luckiest.”
And as you turn to engage Mr. Jung in conversation once more, you miss the way his gaze lingers on you.
///
Tuesdays at Hellebore are for brewing. You save bottling for Thursdays—giving your potions and other concoctions ample time to simmer and set—but today, you are hunched over the stove with all four burners turned to different temperature settings, watching over your pots so that they don’t boil over.
A cursory glance out the window tells you that it’s well into the afternoon, the pastel blue sky littered with trailing clouds lit hazy and golden in the sun. You’ve been in the kitchen since early morning, and, desperate for a breath of fresh air, you crack the window open and inhale deeply. Then you turn back to the stove, giving one pot a stir and adding a pinch of burdock root to another.
Wandering downstairs, you head to the greenhouse. The sunlight is brighter here, the air more humid. Inhaling deeply, you breathe in the scent of the hundreds of plants growing inside, before heading for the laburnum tree in the far corner. Carefully, you brush aside the cascading golden flowers, about to gather the dried ones that have fallen to the dirt when there’s a knock on the front door.
“I’m sorry, we’re close—” you say, stopping when you recognize the head of coppery red hair in the window. “Lisa?” Confused, you open the door and let her inside. “What brings you here today?”
“You need to go to Hoseok, now,” she says, foregoing any preambles. “He’s… well, you’ll see. Nayeon’s there right now, but she’s not helping the situation, and...” She sighs. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who can help him now.”
All at once, your stomach drops to your toes. “What’s wrong with Hoseok?” you demand. “Is he hurt?”
Lisa shakes her head, red hair flying. “No, he’s fine. I don’t know how much longer that’ll last, though.”
The cryptic response sends your heart into overdrive, pounding against your ribcage like a doomsday drum. Striding over to the bay window, you wake Bast from his nap in a slanted ray of sunlight, scratching behind his black ears and watching as his golden eyes flicker open, pupils going wide when he senses your turmoil.
What is it?
Hoseok, you reply shortly. Beneath your touch, Bast’s ears perk up.
What do you need?
You swallow, hard, and suck in a deep breath. I’m going to open a portal.
It’s a dangerous feat, and both you and Bast know it. Opening a portal requires an immense amount of energy, and maintaining one long enough to travel through is a risk to even the most experienced witches. You’ve heard horror stories of spliced limbs and paralysis, and in some cases, even death.
But for Hoseok, you’re willing to risk it all.
“Lisa,” you say, grabbing your purse and striding back to the front door of the shop. “Can you lock up once I’m gone?”
She nods nervously. “Of course.”
You incline your head in silent thanks. At your feet, Bast is slinking continuous figure-eights around your ankles, betraying his worry at the task ahead. Your own heart feels ready to spring out from your ribcage and onto the sun-drenched floor, but you swallow down your nerves and look down at your familiar once more. Ready? you ask.
Ready, Bast confirms. Be careful.
I will.
Closing your eyes, you begin to visualize Hoseok’s front door, focusing on every little detail you can remember. There’s the scuff in the black paint from when he first moved in and accidentally scraped a table leg against it. There’s the bronze knocker that always hangs slightly askew. The image builds slowly in your mind, coming together like the broken pieces of a puzzle.
The air around you is suddenly much warmer than before, an invisible force sapping away at your strength and weakening your legs. Bast’s energy melds with yours, but it’s barely enough to keep you on your feet. Exhaustion seeps into your bones and steals the oxygen from your lungs. You gasp, chest heaving.
I don’t think it’s going to work. Bast’s voice is a faint whisper in the back of your mind.
It will, you hiss. It has to.
The front door of your shop is beginning to glow white, becoming hazy and amorphous as the edges begin to blur. You spot a splash of black paint coming through the fog, followed by a bronze knocker. A matching handle appears a moment later, growing out of tendrils of mist and solidifying before your eyes.
Sucking in a deep breath, you reach forward to grab it. Slowly, you turn until you can turn no longer.
And then you step through.
The first thing you hear is a low, cavernous rumble—deep enough that you feel it reverberating through your very bones. Then your surroundings begin to come into focus. You’re in Hoseok’s entryway, all your limbs thankfully intact. The relief you feel at your success is quickly eclipsed by worry though, when you see Hoseok himself on the far side of the living room. The look in his brown eyes is nothing short of wild, his white shirt unbuttoned to nearly his navel and his auburn hair sweaty and disheveled.
“H-Hobi?” Your voice is no more than a breath, dissipating in the open air.
“Hoseok.” The new voice has you whirling. Nayeon is pressed against the wall opposite him, her expression harried. “Hoseok, please—“
“Get out,” Hoseok growls, his voice dangerously low. He’s bristling with the same energy as before, the same energy you felt back at JungTech—but this time it’s enough to fill the room and spill out the opened door and into the hallway. You can feel it pulsing against your skin, hot and electric, and know that Nayeon is even more affected from the way her shoulders slouch, her eyes dropping to the floor when he snarls. “Get out, now.”
She does. Nayeon turns on her heel and dashes out, slamming the door behind her and leaving you alone with Hoseok. His eyes are alight with something more wolf than man, his chest heaving with uneven breaths, and it’s all you can do not to shrink back when he turns his full attention onto you. Even from across the room, you can smell the liquor spilled across the coffee table in a dark ooze of fluid, cloying and bitter.
“What are you doing here?” Hoseok asks, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “You shouldn’t be here right now, {Name}.”
“Lisa told me to come,” you whisper. “You’ve been pushing yourself too much, Hoseok.”
Hoseok shakes his head and rakes a frazzled hand through his hair. “You need to leave,” he grunts. Shakily, he reaches out to right the overturned liquor bottle, the pad of his thumb skimming across the shattered edge.
“Let me do that,” you tell him, making to step forward, but Hoseok stops you with a raised hand and a low growl that stops you in your tracks.
“Don’t,” he hisses. “Don’t you dare come any closer to me.”
You shake your head. “Hobi, it’s obvious you’ve been drinking. Let me help you.”
“No!” he snarls, flinching back when you take a step forward. “You need to leave. It’s… it’s dangerous for you here.”
“Dangerous?” Your voice is reduced to a whisper at the severity of his reaction, the energy in the air intensifying until it’s almost unbearable. “Why?”
“Because I’m in heat!” Hoseok spits. He sucks in a deep breath, the air whistling between his teeth, before he lets out an agonized moan and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m in heat,” he repeats, reticence dripping from every syllable. “I can’t even fucking think straight, and I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you if you stay. So please, {Name}. Please go.”
“But Nayeon…” you begin, wavering when his eyes flash darkly at the mention of her name. “Or Lisa… I can call her, maybe—”
“No!”
You jump, startled at the volume of his shout.
“No,” Hoseok repeats, softer this time. “Don’t. I don’t want them. I’m—I’m fine.”
The sticky humidity and the pulsating energy flowing through the room tell you otherwise. “You’re clearly not,” you tell him gently, taking another step toward him. “Let me call Lisa. Or maybe one of the other girls in the pack, I’m sure someone can help y—”
“I don’t want Lisa.” Defeat suffuses his tone, his eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t want any of them. I want—fuck.” Hoseok groans and lets his head fall back against the wall, the dull thunk echoing in the stillness. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I want. You need to leave, {Name}. You’re only going to be in danger if you stay.”
For the second time that afternoon, only one word springs to mind. “Why?”
Hoseok groans again. “Because I’m weak,” he mutters hoarsely. “Because I’m weak, and I’m not thinking straight, and if you come any closer to me, I won’t be able to stop myself from pinning you against that wall right there and having my way with you.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. The rippling energy in the air is almost oppressive in its strength, and only grows when Hoseok’s gaze finally lands on you, his pupils blown out and blacker than the night.
“Go,” he entreaties, dragging a frazzled hand through his hair. “Please, {Name}.”
You suck in a deep breath, your lungs swelling and expanding with the newfound oxygen. Then, ever so slowly, you let your gaze flicker up to meet his. “What if I don’t want to?”
Hoseok freezes. Time comes to a standstill, and even the overwhelming energy emanating from him seems to falter. The room is near silent, broken only by your companion’s ragged breathing, his chest heaving beneath the thin white fabric of his shirt. Even from across the room, you can see the sheen of sweat coating his honeyed skin, shining in the light of the setting sun.
“You don’t mean that,” he says at last. “You can’t mean that.”
“I can,” you whisper. “And I do.”
For three agonizingly long seconds, Hoseok remains rooted firmly in place, his throat bobbing harshly. Then, before you can even blink, he’s striding forward—a blur of motion almost too quick for your eyes to follow. He comes to a stop a hair’s breadth from you, one hand reaching up to cup your face delicately, as if you’re made of glass.
“You,” he rasps, “have no idea what you’ve just done.” His thumb traces the swell of your cheek just below your eye, the motion surprisingly tender. Your heart stutters in your chest.
And then he leans down and crushes his mouth to yours.
The rest of the world falls away, dissolving into nothing. Your eyes flutter shut as Hoseok’s hands slide down your sides to curl around your hips, your body melting against his taut frame. He is all you can feel and all you can taste, and you keen helplessly when he grinds against you, his cock hot and hard against your stomach.
The sound seems to awaken something in Hoseok, a cavernous groan erupting from his throat. Pulling away from your mouth, he descends upon the delicate skin of your neck, teeth and tongue blossoming bruises in their wake. Shaky hands find the collar of your shirt, questioning eyes seeking out yours for permission that you happily give. He tugs the garment off almost delicately, his ravenous gaze roving across each bit of newly revealed flesh, and once it’s freed from your head he tosses it aside and sets about doing the same to the rest of your clothing.
Maybe it should feel odd, watching through lidded eyes as Hoseok drops to his knees to pull your jeans down and off your ankles. Maybe you should feel embarrassed, seeing your best friend bury his nose between your legs, delirious bliss etching across his features as he inhales, his strong fingers curling around your thighs to spread you wider. But instead, it feels completely and utterly natural—as if this was always meant to be.
“You smell divine,” Hoseok breathes, slotting himself between your spread thighs and running a fingertip along your lace-covered slit, collecting the considerable slick there and bringing it to his nose. “Fuck, {Name}. Just one whiff, and I can tell that you’re primed and ready for me.”
“Take me, then,” you breathe back shakily, rolling your hips when he slips past the lacy barrier of your panties to find your clit, circling around the sensitive nub until you’re gasping his name.
Hoseok’s gaze darkens to obsidian, his pupils swallowing up the amber-flecked brown of his irises. In one smooth motion, he’s on his feet again, straightening up to his full height as his hands find purchase on your hips. He twirls you around until you’re facing the wall, your palms pressed flat against the woven tapestry hanging there.
“Gorgeous.” A single word, laced with unmistakable awe. Then he’s fumbling with his belt buckle, the metallic clink and tug of a zipper reaching your ears, before he presses against you, clothed chest molding against your bare back. Even through the thin layer of fabric, you can feel the sweltering heat emanating from him, his sweat soaking through the cotton and sticking to your skin. His mouth finds its way to the junction of your neck and shoulder again—teasing at the flesh until you’re quivering—before he begins laying a trail of hot kisses down your spine.
“Wanna fuck you,” Hoseok rasps, tearing your panties away once his lips reach the waistband, the flimsy lace ripped to shreds in his desperate grip. “Want you on your front, want you on your back, want you on my tongue—” His voice drops, rumbling through his chest and sending shivers through your entire body. “Want you. Wanted you for so long.”
And as if to reinforce his words, the velvety head of his cock nestles against the cleft of your backside, hot and slick.
Wordlessly, you arch your back, presenting him with the tempting swell of your rear. A glance over your shoulder reveals the strained clench of his jaw and the bob of his throat, his biceps tensed and his gaze unwavering. His control is undoubtedly dangling by a single thread at this point—a delicate, gossamer thread that’s on the verge of snapping. The delirium of his heat is overtaking his senses, his grip tightening on your hips, and ever so slowly, he begins to press forward until the tip of his thick cock is just beginning to part your walls. Already, the fit borders on excruciating, and your body tenses at the intrusion, stretched to the limit around his thick girth.
Hoseok exhales shakily, his primal instincts warring with his desire to ensure your comfort. Soft lips drop kiss after kiss onto your bare shoulders, your back, your neck—wherever he can reach as he whispers tender praises into your skin. “Breathe, princess,” he encourages lowly. “You can take it—I know you can. You were made for me.”
Obediently, you inhale, focusing on the way your lungs expand and contract as you draw air into them. The pain ebbs away with each breath you take, until all that is left is a low throb of pleasure. Your hips rock back against him, and Hoseok takes it as a sign to push forward once more, parting your walls until he’s fully seated inside you, your body stretched to the limit as you mold around him.
There’s no pain now—only an aching desire for more, more, more. He’s deep enough to reach parts of you that you’ve never been able to explore before—either alone or with other partners—and you moan brokenly when he rolls his hips experimentally. “More, Hoseok,” you whimper. “Please.”
He obliges. One thrust leads into another, the punishing pace he sets fueled by his heady desperation for relief. The full, heavy weight of his cock dragging along your walls ignites every nerve ending in your body, sizzling electricity blazing through your veins. It’s all you can do to plant your palms flat against the tapestried wall, fingers twitching at the woven fabric as Hoseok grabs your hips with enough force to bruise and pulls you back against him in time with his thrusts.
“Look at you,” he says hoarsely. “Love the way you feel, clenching around me like that. My perfect, pretty girl, taking my cock so well. I always knew you were made for me.” He grunts, forehead falling against your back, damp hair matting against your skin as he continues rutting against you. “Always—fuck—knew you were my mate.”
The particularly harsh thrust that follows his raspy declaration sends all coherent thought flying out of your head, taking your surprise along with it. All you can manage is a shuddery whine that vaguely resembles his name, the sound intermingling with the obscene smack of flesh against flesh and the continuous stream of praises Hoseok whispers into your skin.
There’s something building inside you—a dull, throbbing pressure at the point where your body joins with his. He’s still rolling up into you, but each subsequent thrust grows more and more shallow. The realization dawns on your dazed mind all at once, as you feel the growing swell at the base of his cock. Hoseok is rendered near immobile as he finally reaches his high, the entirety of his length sheathed firmly inside your pussy as he spills ropes of white against your fluttering walls. The swelling continues, filling you until you feel fit to burst.
“H-Hoseok,” you gasp. “I can’t. I can’t—you’re going to rip me in half.”
Soothing hands smooth along your sides, warm lips littering kisses onto your bare shoulders. “You can,” he murmurs tenderly. “You were made for me, and I for you. You can take it, princess. I know you can.”
The gentle repetition of his fingertips trailing nonsensical patterns into your skin eases your labored panting somewhat. Beneath his touch, you slowly relax, the pressure in your abdomen abating as his knot begins to subside.
“You did so well.” His voice is no more than a mumble, almost lost in the sweat and slick coating your skin.
You sag against the wall, taking a few moments to catch your breath before slowly easing off of him, the sudden loss leaving your core empty and aching. Gingerly, you turn around to face him, acutely aware of the way your combined juices immediately begin dribbling down your thighs.
“You said I was your mate,” you whisper, almost afraid that the sentiment will disappear if voiced aloud. “Did… did you mean that?”
“Every word,” Hoseok replies, equally soft. “Is that okay?”
A smile blooms across your face. Rising up to your tiptoes, you kiss him again—a soft, reassuring peck that he immediately leans into, seeking out your touch like a flower in the sun. “More than okay,” you breathe, feeling the way his lips stretch upward against yours. “I’m glad, Hobi.”
Hoseok sighs into your mouth, a slow smile settling across his features. “Now it’s your turn,” he says, and in an instant, he’s swept you off your feet, one arm beneath your bent knees and the other around your back. “And I’m planning to take my time with you, princess. You’re not leaving here until I say so.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, crossing your hands at his nape. “Fine by me,” you tell him, earning yourself a wide grin. His lips seek out yours again as he carries you down the darkened hallway and into the shadowy depths of his bedroom, pausing only to nudge the lightswitch on with his elbow. Golden light suffuses the room as he steps forward to lay you on his bed, your back sinking into the plush mattress and dipping further when he joins you. He hovers over you with an arm on either side of your head, and you reach up to trace the vein that lines his biceps with a gentle fingertip, giggling when he gives your bottom lip a punishing nip.
The kiss deepens from there. Hoseok parts your lips and seeks out your tongue with his own, subduing it into compliance. By the time you pull apart, all the oxygen has left your lungs, leaving you flushed and gasping. Hoseok chortles breathlessly and trails down to press a kiss to your navel, before traveling downward until he’s reached your clit. Gently, he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, rumbling with laughter when you buck against him.
“So needy,” he murmurs. To your displeasure, he straightens back up to kneel between your spread thighs, but your complaint quickly dissolves into thin air when he edges forward until his knee is pressed against your aching clit. Desperate for more friction, you grind against him, your wetness soaking through his jeans in a matter of seconds.
It doesn’t take long for pressure to build up in your belly again, winding tight as a coiled spring. Hoseok is staring down at you, transfixed, and his undivided attention only serves to bring you closer to the edge, teetering on the very brink.
“Look at you.” His voice could almost be described as a purr, if he weren’t so utterly canine in mannerisms and appearance. “Such a greedy little thing, all desperate to get off. You’re making a mess of my new jeans, princess.”
You’re too far gone to care about the teasing lilt that colors his tone. The edge is rapidly approaching, and one last roll of your hips is enough to send you over, your walls convulsing around nothing as you ride out your high.
Hoseok doesn’t wait. In an instant, he’s back between your legs, having moved so quickly you didn’t even see when he’d started or stopped. His tongue darts out to lave at your folds, a growl rumbling through his chest when your hips jump on instinct. Immediately, he tightens his grip, strong arms winding around your thighs and anchoring at your waist to render you helpless in his grasp, only able to take what he sees fit to give.
“How is it that you taste even better than you smell?” Hoseok muses as he leans down to suck your clit into his mouth, lips curling up into a pleased smirk when you gasp out his name. “Cute,” he says, releasing the nub in favor of descending to your drenched entrance instead, flicking his tongue shallowly inside before withdrawing with a chuckle.
“Hoseok—” you begin, only to dissolve into a moan when he sheaths two fingers inside you without any warning, curling them up and in until you’re shaking in his grasp.
“Come for me,” he commands softly. “Go on, let me hear you.”
And you do, chanting his name like a mantra as a wave of pleasure overtakes you. Hoseok’s thumb circles your clit in just the right way to prolong your orgasm, and it isn’t until you’re cringing from overstimulation that he finally relents, descending down to mold his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. His lips part yours, tongue dipping out to explore as he sheds his shirt and shucks off his ruined jeans. His skin, when he presses against you, burns hot as a furnace wherever it touches. Against your stomach, his cock stirs back to life.
He’s gentler this time. Every movement is slow and deliberate and tender as he breaches you, murmuring your name reverentially as he fills you again. Your body bows to his willingly, stretching to accommodate him, and the spike of pleasure that lances through you when he bottoms out is almost enough to send your oversensitive body over the edge again, your walls fluttering around him.
There’s an unmistakable shift in the air when Hoseok starts up a slow rhythm, leaning down to kiss you again. His lips move against yours, soft and tender, before moving past your jugular and down to the crook of your neck, elongated canines scraping against the delicate skin in a silent question. You wind your arms around his neck and nod, giving him his answer. There’s no need for words.
And then his teeth are sinking into the spot he’s so lovingly scoped out, breaking the skin. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, and the pleasure intermingles with the pain of the bite until you are delirious, rendered boneless in his grasp. Hoseok’s hips stutter, his pace growing erratic as he soothes the wound over with his tongue.
You’re prepared for the swelling this time, but the fullness still manages to knock all the air out of your lungs, bordering on painful as his knot grows. Hoseok quells your whimpers with tender kisses, the instinct to comfort his mate paramount even as he paints your walls with ropes of creamy white. He traces a path from your lips down to where he’s marked and claimed you as his, imbuing your skin with a litany of praises that warm you from the inside out.
“My mate,” he murmurs, reverent. “Finally.”
You lean into his touch with a tired smile. “Finally? How long have you wanted this?”
His lips curl into a smile against your clavicle. “Ages. If I’m honest, I think I fell in love with you the day you set my tail on fire when we were kids. It’s always been you, {Name}. Only you.”
You can’t help it—you need to hear it from his mouth again. “You love me?”
Hoseok chuckles. “Of course I do. My tricky little minx—my perfect, pretty mate. I love you more than anything.” One hand reaches up to caress your cheek, running along the tender skin beneath your eye before cupping the back of your head so he can mold his mouth to yours. “Love you more than I can even explain,” he breathes, punctuating each word with a kiss. His hands blaze trails down the slopes of your body until he finally anchors below the crook of your legs. “So why don’t you let me show you instead?”
And he does. Over and over that night, and in the two days of his heat that follow, he shows you exactly how he feels. Propriety is forgotten, left by the wayside with his scorned fiancé and marriage. He is yours, and you are his.
Consequences be damned.
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⇢ aftermath.
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also set in this universe:
[myg]
6K notes · View notes
jaedore · 4 years ago
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BINDING BONDS | 9
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parings: jung jaehyun x reader
genre: ceo!au, arranged marriage!au, angst, consumption of alcohol, asshole/player Jaehyun, swearing, smut
[ ☽ smut (unprotected sex-always use protection!!, oral (giving) | ◇ angst (from Jaehyun’s father- verbal abuse, belittling, hostile, swearing) | ☼ fluff ]
note: BB deals with themes of mental and physical abuse, which can be upsetting for some readers. If you feel uncomfortable reading these types of plots, you are advised to not continue. MINORS, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, but I advise you to skip the sexual parts.
[ 12 k words ]
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The sun is setting and calm music reverberates throughout your office as you turn on the music. It’s time to go home so your mother bids you a farewell for the night, the clicking of her heels fade away until you’re alone in the silent abyss. You’ve been unable to think throughout the entire day since your mind was occupied solely on Jaehyun, even the 4 meetings you attended today, you couldn’t even remember what they were about. 
Just as you’re about to collect yourself for the night, a knock at the door echoes through your office leaving you to wonder who could possibly be here at this time when you’re about to leave. All you wanted to do was to go home and be with Jaehyun.
“Come in,” you sigh, your voice a little impatient as you continue to pack your belongings.
Loud steps reverberated from the sounds of their shoes, ringing throughout the hollow room, “I would’ve barged in if you kept me waiting any longer,” the voice sang. 
You look at the owner of the voice and can’t help but gleam, the corners of your lips instantly uplifting, “Why didn’t you?” 
“Because that’d be rude, especially if you were speaking to someone,” Jaehyun chuckles. 
“Well I wasn’t, so the room is yours, Mr. Jung,” you bring your arms around his neck as he strides to your side.
“Oh?” he furrows his brow as he pokes his tongue inside his mouth, “are you trying to imply something suggestive, Miss y/l/n?” Jaehyun wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. 
“Of course not, I’m being completely professional,” you tease. You bring your fingers to loosen his tie and you slightly chuckle because you just wanted to have a little fun, “but is it working?” you playfully whisper.
Jaehyun grins, a small breath of mint air releasing from his lips, “If I were to be honest…” he comes closer to you until his lips are just grazing the surface of yours, “it is.” he smirks. 
You pull him in for a kiss and it’s sensual, slow, just how you like it. It’s only been 8 hours since you’ve seen him but how come it felt like months? It’s true that you two couldn’t get enough of each other, any moment you had, you were wrapped with his limbs or your lips would be harmonizing. 
The well-known shape of his lips that sculpted perfectly with yours brought you warmth, your cheeks heating up like it was your first time kissing him, like being sent to Cloud 9. With Jaehyun’s hands on your waist, he briskly lifts you up until you’re sitting on his desk and lifts your legs until they’re wrapped around his torso. Before your kiss could become heavier, another knock at your door rang through the heavy breaths. You ignore it thinking that you’re just hearing things, but when the sound comes again you exhale tense breath. 
“Who’s there?” You push yourself from his body, but his lips are occupied as it pecks your neck, nuzzling his lips where it meets your shoulder.
“It’s me,” it’s a quiet voice, but it’s immediately recognizable, freezing you both.
“Is that-” Jaehyun’s voice rises in question and you nod, quietly jumping from your desk and buttoning your blouse you didn’t realize was unbutton, until the cold air hit your chest. 
Jaehyun pulls himself together, tightening his tie and straightening his button-front shirt. He watches your back as you open the door and welcome the person in. 
“Oh, Jaehyun. You’re here,” Chaeyoung’s eyes widened in distress, clearly not expecting him, but you could tell at the same time she felt ashamed. 
Jaehyun adverts his gaze somewhere else, afraid that if he looked at her, she’d be disturbed from his intimidating, bitter glare, “Yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m here to pick y/n up.”
“I-I can come back tomorrow.” Chaeyoung turns to you, her hands clasping together tightly. 
“No, it’s okay,” you slightly smile and turn your head to Jaehyun. As you walk to him, you mouth, “wait for me out at the door,” hopefully, he’d understand that this is a private conversation just between you and her. 
Jaehyun inhales a sharp breath, holding his composure as best as he could and nods. He squeezes your hand before sneaking off to the front of the door, patiently waiting for you. You give your attention to Chaeyoung as you sit in your seat while she sets herself in the chair across it. You already know what this conversation is about, you just weren’t expecting it to hear it so soon. 
“I’m sorry,” she began, “I really didn’t intend on going to Jaehyun’s office to try and win him back.” Chaeyoung looked at you as if she was asking permission if it was okay to presume. “My emotions just took over and I don’t know what came over me, but I just miss him so much.” 
“So you kissed him?” your eyes narrowed but immediately relaxed, you weren’t trying to act threatening or superior, even if you were her boss. You were just intrigued and a little agitated at her actions. 
“I’m so sorry,” her voice broke as her hands fell on her lap, “I truly am. As I said, my emotions just took over me and I just- I just kissed him. It was a mistake and I regret it. I regret all of it. He loves you, he genuinely does and I can see that. I don’t want to take that away from both of you. Especially him.” 
You hesitate before responding. If you were to forgive her, would that just give her another opportunity to manipulate you? Maybe not everyone’s trying to manipulate you. You think to yourself. “I forgive you,” you authentically meant it, you understand her feelings and where she was coming from. You just hoped that it’d never happen again. 
Chaeyoung looks at you wide-eyed, not expecting you to forgive her right away. All your life, you’ve had trouble trusting people and accepting their apologies, but her apology sounded genuine like it was coming from the bottom of her heart. 
“Does this mean I’m not fired?” 
You laugh at her question, shaking your head, “this is personal business and has nothing to do with work. You’re an excellent designer, there’s no way I’m going to let you go.” 
She immediately stands up and bows eagerly at you repeating to you how thankful she is as she quickly backs away, “have a wonderful night, Miss, y/l/n!” 
“You too,” you call out to her, following her to the door and watching her figure close through the elevator doors. She’s always so eager after talking to you but always rushes to leave your office, you don’t know how to comprehend her personality.
“What was that?” Jaehyun asked. 
“She apologized to me about the other day when she came into your office.” 
Jaehyun glanced at you and then back at her, worrying if everything was genuine and true coming from Chaeyoung, “she did?” 
You nodded and grabbed his hand to drag him to the car. You were restless to head home and strip into your pj's to sleep, work had overdone you no matter how much your mind was occupied with Jaehyun. 
“Long day at work today?” He held your hand as you two entered the elevator. 
“Yeah, we just got approval to promote our new collection internationally,” you replied, “so now, I’ll probably be busy with interviews and traveling back and forth.” 
“Oh,” you could sense that Jaehyun was probably upset that there’s a possibility of you being gone, but you turned towards him and locked your arms around his neck. 
“Wanna come with?” 
“Sounds tempting,” Jaehyun chuckles as his hands sit on your waist, “but where?”
“You could come with me when I go to Paris next month...or the month after that,” you smile, hoping that it was convincing enough.
“Paris? Why Paris? And twice?” Jaehyun’s brows furrowed, his head slightly angling back to glance at you. 
“Yeah, I have to go and prepare for Paris Fashion Week that takes place in the fall.” You pull away from him as the elevator doors open and you two step out into the parking garage. 
“Yeah, I’ll ask off now then, so I can go both times.”
“Yay! Perfect!” You beam, clutching his arm. You were ecstatic to explore one of the most romantic cities in the world with the man you love. To spend time with him, see the Eiffel Tower, go to the cafe shops, and to shop in the capital of fashion. It’s your favorite time in the year despite how busy you were. 
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Throughout the week, Jaehyun and you planned out exactly what you were going to do with your old room since you were moving into the master bedroom with him. You two went out to try to buy a whole new mattress that both of you liked, but you were a little too picky. 
“How about this one?” Jaehyun sat on one of the mattresses in front of you, tiredness weighing his eyes. 
You sat down next to him, slightly jumping just to feel the softness. You loved your soft bed, it gave you a lot of comfort that you just got used to over a few years. You always had a hard time sleeping in hotels, so you always avoided overnight trips, “hmmm,” you purse your lips to the side, “no this one is too hard,” you whisper as you stand up, fixated on other mattresses. 
“We’ve been in here for an hour. There’s one you must like,” Jaehyun dragged his feet to catch up with you. 
“Let’s go check out another store, hm?” you suggested, clutching onto his arm. 
“Okay okay, this is the last one for today though.” 
“Okay. I’m sorry,” you pouted, “I just need to find the perfect one. I need to be able to sleep at night.” 
“What about my bed? Why can’t we just keep my mattress?” 
You hesitantly shook your head, “Promise you won’t make fun of me?” 
“I would never,” Jaehyun replied, forehead creasing. 
“It has too much history. I want this to symbolize something new to start for our memories.” You shifted your gaze between the ground and his shoes, anxious swallowing your breath. There was a pause between you two and you were afraid that maybe you were just being too cheesy, that he isn’t as romantic as he seemed. 
“I agree,” Jaehyun lifted your chin with his hand, “come on,” he grabbed your hand as you two made your way to his car. “But wait-”
“What?” You looked at him, suddenly a little alarmed that you said something that threw him off. 
“You didn’t complain all those times when you slept with me though,” Jaehyun teased, a grin stretching his lips, “especially after se-”
You gently shoved him away from you, “Oh shut up,” you scoffed as you ran to the car. 
“Hey!” 
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You both plop onto the bed, completely breathless. It took you two an entire 30 minutes to get the mattress up to your new shared bedroom. You were horrible at navigating it, but Jaehyun was patient enough even if he had the heavier end of it. 
“How about we just take a nap?” Jaehyun proposed, bringing an arm across your waist to cling closer to you. 
“What about the bedsheets?” you laugh. You’re about to remove his arm but he whines in your chest and shakes your body from preventing you from moving. 
“You worked hard today, baby. You deserve a nap after packing, unpacking your things, and getting our room ready.” Jaehyun pecks your neck. 
“Maybe I do,” you softly whisper as he nuzzles his face in your neck, giving it a deeper kiss. 
You two stayed like that for a while, with Jaehyun’s lips on your neck, kissing it, marking it while your lids got heavier from the weight of his limbs and hypnotic kisses. 
You were on the brink of falling asleep when you hear Jaehyun murmuring, “I love you y/n.”
When you wake up, Jaehyun isn’t by your side and you jerk up until you’re off the bed, head darting back and forth, looking for your phone in case he texted you. Nothing. You blink, observing the area around you and it’s like how you left it before you fell asleep. Opened and unopened boxes sat on the ground, bedsheets were still in their packaging, and all the windows were shut, with only the sun setting. 
“Jaehyun?” You called for him but received no answer and you call him again and again as you search the house. Silence. You pull out your phone to only be automatically sent to voicemail. That’s weird, he usually picks up my calls...but you shrug it off, knowing he’ll return home. For the next hour, you distract yourself by putting on the covers of the bed, setting it up for tonight, and unpacking your clothes to fit into the closet.
After an hour, you plopped on the bed satisfied with what you got done today, almost everything of yours was unpacked. The only thing left to do was to just figure out what side you wanted. Just as you were about to lay down, you hear the click of the door to your apartment and you peak out of the master bedroom to see if Jaehyun was finally home.
The man himself prances in with a plastic bag in one hand with the other holding onto a box of fried chicken. You suspect the plastic bag is filled with bottles of soju from hearing the clanking of the bottles against each other and seeing the faded green color of the bottles behind the plastic.
“Jaehyun!” you’re giddy as you open the door to reveal yourself and walk up to help him.
“You’re awake! I thought you’d still be asleep, I wanted to wake you up.” Jaehyun handed you the fried chicken as you both made your way to the living room coffee table. 
It sat warm in your hands so you were quick to set it on the transparent surface, watching it steam and create a fog on the glass, “what’s all this?” you asked as he sat next to you, taking out the soju bottles. 
“Well, I figured that we deserved a treat. A normal treat, without all the champagne and expensive dinner bills,” a chuckle rose from his chest, “it’s fried chicken and soju!” you could tell he was hungry from the excitement of pointing between the two items.
You both chomp into the fried chicken as you pair it with soju. The night is exchanged with laughs and tears of joy, especially when Jaehyun decides to turn on the music and have a tiny party with just the two of you. He pretends it’s the first time you’re meeting him and it’s love at first sight. It’s badly cheesy and would usually make you cringe, but as he acts over the top, you couldn’t help but hold onto your stomach as you fall on your butt.
For a sliver of a moment, the scenario almost drives you into tears because your first meeting was far from this, exchange curses, spilled drinks, and forced marriage, nothing was like the fantasy your minds illustrated. You didn’t want to be emotional and ruin the moment, so you stuffed it down your mind, plus you were happy. Truly happy. 
“That was so much fun,” Jaehyun lets out a dragged out laugh as he sits next to you, who’s also laughing at his funny dance moves at his impression of trying to impress you. 
“That was hilarious,” you reply, coming down from the high. “Hey,” 
Jaehyun turns his attention to you, his eyes solely on you, and his ears tuned to your voice, he hums and listens to you but everything that comes out of your mouth is neglected. He’s so entranced in you at this moment, the crinkle in your smile, the uplifting corners of your lips when you smile as you speak, the sparkle in your eye whenever you dart them everywhere, and the sound of your voice has Jaehyun completely intoxicated. Jaehyun only realizes that you finished your sentence when he sees that your lips stopped moving and you’re giving him an interesting look. 
“Hm? What’d you say?” 
“Silly goose, I said ‘thank you for this. I love you.’” You reply. Maybe it was the soju or maybe you were just tired, but you just yearned for his touch, his warmth. You leaned your head against Jaehyun’s shoulder when he returned those adoring three words. 
“Come on, let’s get to bed,” he scoops you into his arms and carries you to your new shared bed. 
Almost everything was set, except for a few decorations you were gonna add, but Jaehyun felt content. It was like you were settling a new life with him and he couldn’t help but giggle to himself. You poke his dimples and ask him what he finds funny, but he just kisses your forehead as he carefully sets you down, telling you not to worry about it. 
The two of you quickly fell asleep, the alcohol fading out and the physical tiredness settling into the muscles. You sneakily opened an eye to check on Jaehyun, it was easy to spot out his face through the darkness. You ran your hand through his features, starting at the cute point of his nose, up to his bold yet innocent eyebrows, trailing them down to the hills of his cheekbones, the puffiness of his cheeks, and down to those lips of his. The lips that felt like they were created for yours every time you two kissed. Before sleep lulled you away, you reached for his lips, giving him the softest kiss but as you were about to pull away, Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you and continued kissing you until the midnight hours reached both of your eyes. 
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The next few weeks came closer than you thought and soon you were on the plane to Paris. Jaehyun was knocked out beside you and it’s only been 5 hours into the flight...7 more to go, you sigh to yourself as you attempt to get some hours in. Your sleep schedule was definitely messed up because of the different time zones, but you hoped the darkness that pooled the sky was enough to fool your body to fall asleep. 
“Y/n, y/n,” 
You woke up to the feeling of your body shaking from a hand on your shoulder. Before opening your eyes, you wacked Jaehyun away, not wanting to open your eyes. You murmured him to stop but he didn’t because he began to start pecking kisses at your face. 
“We’re here in Paris, baby,” he whispered, smoothing your neck. 
You sighed because it was definitely suggestive, “Jaehyun stop, must you always find time to have sex?”
“I can’t help it, especially when we’re in the city of love,” Jaehyun sang, you knew he was smiling like a fool against your neck, “wake up and look.” 
You rubbed your eyes awake and saw the peak of the Eiffel Tower poking through the clouds. A smile grew on your face, finally being back in your favorite city brought back nostalgia. And now that Jaehyun was here with you, it made you feel all happy and giddy. 
“Shall we go explore the city? It’s only noon here,” Jaehyun checked his watch. 
“I’m a little tired, can we just go to the hotel and sleep for a bit? I didn’t sleep well on the way here.” 
“Of course, anything for you.” Jaehyun smiles as you two step out of the airport hand in hand, “we’ve got a whole week here.” 
You two easily spotted your driver and headed to the hotel, “Four Seasons Hotel George V, please,” you call to the diver. 
As soon as you and Jaehyun got to your room, both of you stripped down into nothing and climbed into bed together. It wasn’t usual for you two to sleep naked together, especially if you weren’t being intimate before it, but you desperately just needed to get out of the clothes that you sat in for 12 hours. Plus, you didn't want to dig into your suitcase to find your pajamas. 
You’re not sure how long you two have been asleep but when you woke up, the moon shined its light through the curtains of your windows. You turned to Jaehyun whose arms were still wrapped around you and legs tangled with yours. He’s so beautiful. You stroke your hand through his soft hair, eliciting a soft sigh from him. To this day, it hurts your heart how dark of a past he had, how scarred he must’ve been as a child growing up. Jaehyun must’ve felt you shifting around making him open his eyes from his short slumber. 
“Hey,” you greeted him with soft eyes. 
“Hi,” he smiled, bringing you closer to his body. 
“Did you still want to go explore? It’s dark out, but there’s a lot we can still do,” you suggest. 
“I don’t care,” Jaehyun sighs, “as long as I’m with you.” he pecks the top of your head. 
You glance up at him, but he’s already looking down at you with adoration in his eyes. You chuckle at his flirty comment and push yourself to get dressed. Meanwhile, Jaehyun watches you from the bed, obviously enjoying the view with his hands behind his head. You watch him watching you, holding eye contact as you slip on every single clothing slowly. The tempo driving Jaehyun insane, but he didn’t mind indulging in the view in front of him.
“If you keep that up, we won’t be able to go anywhere at this rate.” Jaehyun sucks in his bottom lip, preventing himself from becoming hard. 
“What if that’s exactly what I’m trying to do?” you reply, slowly crawling up to him. 
“Then it’s working,” Jaehyun breathes, but you’re quick to pull away teasingly and walk into the bathroom, slowly shutting the bathroom door behind you. 
“Get ready loverboy!” You call from the sink as you shake your head. Oh boy, this is gonna be an adventurous trip.
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The moonlight shines perfectly on your face as your hair comfortably flows behind your face. You hold a glass of wine against the tips of your fingers as your body leans against the edge of the wall with Jaehyun standing next to you as you stop to admire the view in front of you. The Seine River reflects the light of the city back to you, the tuned out conversations of others walking by, and the cool breeze of the Paris wind makes the moment perfect for Jaehyun. He thinks you look absolutely charming, like the view of when someone finds their true love. 
“Look at the river, it’s so beautiful,” you giggle, you knew he was watching you, but the river in front of him was much better. How could you not be in the moment and view such scenery like this?
“But I think you’re more beautiful,” Jaehyun smiles, his eyes crinkling at his own compliment. 
“Oh stop it! I hate it when you do that,” you scoff. Truth be told, you didn’t actually hate it. You absolutely love it when he compliments and teases you, you just don’t know how to take it. 
“It’s true,” Jaehyun takes a sip of his wine and continues glancing at you every once in a while. This is going to be a fun trip, he laughs to himself. 
“Shall we get back? We have to be at the studio pretty early tomorrow,” you finish the remaining red liquid in your glass. 
Jaehyun laughs at your tolerance to carelessly down the drink but nods as he does the same before following you back to the hotel. You aren’t in a rush to get back though, you take your time walking through the streets of Paris, it’s not like you were here every month. The City of Love and the City of Fashion, what a moment to cherish with your love by your side. 
“I love you,” you say to Jaehyun. You weren’t usually the one to say it, but when you do, you do it at the best moments where you feel content. 
Jaehyun returns the words like music to your ears and kisses your temple, bringing his hands around your hip to bring you closer to him. The street lights bring a gold color to your faces as the music of the streets streams into your ears. You couldn’t be happier. 
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The next day in the studio, Jaehyun follows you around like a lost puppy. He’s very well known in the fashion industry because of his suave looks and dapper style, but he does not know the underlying industry of it. So, whenever inspiration strikes in your head, you’re quick to run to Jaehyun to try it on him. 
You’re given a quick layout of the runway, making sure the length of it will give the audience enough time to admire Audace’s work and a tour of the studio where work will be done. After, you’re given the models profiles that will be walking the show and designate them to the appropriate outfit you see fit. 
“Can I help?” Jaehyun chirps beside you. To be honest, you completely forgot that Jaehyun was next to you, you were so immersed in your work. 
“Of course, just pair some of the models with the outfits you think will match them,” you nod the pile of pictures to him then go back to your work. 
Jaehyun does as you say, subtly glancing at you to make sure he was doing this right. You would occasionally let out huffs here and there to express your frustration, every model looked the same. Blond hair, skinny, and tall. You abruptly stood up, earning looks from other designers, collecting some pictures from your piles and Jaehyun’s, and rushed to the person in charge of hiring them. 
Jaehyun sat in his seat, giving the fellow people nods of apologies and followed after you. He stopped when he heard your firm voice from the door. 
“These models all look the same,” you threw the file of remaining pictures to the man in front of you, crossing your arms instantly after. 
“So?” The inconsiderate man cocked up an eyebrow, not bothering to greet you. 
“I’m pretty sure that my company along with others, has pillars of diversity. This doesn’t show the world what we strive upon. Every single model looks the same.” 
With a thick accent, retorted, “Well here, in Paris,-” he emphasized, “-we are the ones that hire the models. If you don’t like it, you’re more than welcome to drop your collection from the show.” the man crossed his arms.
You tilted your head back, scoffing at his foolish offer. Clearly, he didn’t know who you were. The founders of Paris Fashion week were calling, emailing, begging you to present your collection in their show and this man thinks that you can just drop out? 
“I have no idea who you are, so your collection must not be that important,” the rude man grabbed his glasses to clean it on his shirt, clearly to signify that this conversation meant nothing to him.
Before you could speak up, Jaehyun snuck behind you and grabbed your arm, but you yanked it away. You were heated that this man thinks that you didn’t work your blood and sweat to get where you were and then to be beaten down because the hiring manager failed to uphold one of the most important aspects of not only your company but millions in the fashion industry. Several others that were going to present their collection, either have diversity in their company or strive for it. How come it was so hard for a show to reach that? 
“Y/n, please. You’ve been working hard for this,” Jaehyun whispered in your ear, grabbing hold onto your arm again. 
You were stubborn and you stood your ground with your chin held up high. You weren’t trying to be cocky, just trying to give this ignorant man a piece of your mind. But even your mind was battling between dropping out or continuing this because Jaehyun’s right. You have been working so hard for this moment, although this bends your values. 
“Fine. Once you do find out who I am, just know that you won’t be in the same position next year,” you sigh, letting Jaehyun drag you away from the man’s office. You figured you’d talk to the members of the head founder anyways. 
“Let go of me,” you pulled yourself from Jaehyun’s grasp, he looked at you surprised at your change in demeanor. 
“I’m sorry if you’re mad, but you’ve been working day to night to get ready for this. Don’t let the looks of a model bring it down.” Jaehyun rubbed your arm. 
You walked away from him, setting yourself propped up on your elbows on the table, “you don’t get it Jaehyun.” 
“Then tell me so I understand.” 
“These models all look the same,” you pointed to the remaining pictures you forgot to include into the file, “there’s no...flavor. Look,” you grabbed a few, “they all have blond hair, blue or brown eyes, same body structure. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all so beautiful in their own way. But Audace is different from all the other brands, I strive for a variety.” 
“Y/n, this is a fashion show. You’re here to present the clothes that you made. Who cares if the models look the same? They probably chose them because they wanted the clothes to stand out. Your collection is so rare that you don’t even need models,” Jaehyun comforted you, bringing his hand to your cheek. 
His touch wondrously calmed you down, making you inhale a deep breath before speaking, “I know, I just wish there were more diverse people in this show. You know, like, curly hair, brown hair, black hair, models with bigger hips, shorter legs. Just something that’s not like this-it’s been like this the past few years. I just want to make a difference.” You leaned into his touch. 
“I know. But with that little spiel back there, I’m sure you sparked something new that’ll start,” he smiled at you, pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead. 
“I don’t know about that,” you sighed, turning your attention back to pairing the models with your outfits.
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The first week in Paris was always the busiest, it’s the first week where you have to build the foundation of the show, as in establishing the order of outfits, pairing who with what, and navigating the work process of the show. It’s like you could never catch a break, but now with Jaehyun at your side, he always made sure you were taking breaks, eating, and staying hydrated. He’d usually be with you, but sometimes he’d go out and explore the city. 
You were a little frustrated because you didn’t have that much time, so throughout the week, you made sure to show him your favorite monuments. Right after you come back from the studio, Jaehyun would always be excited to see you walk into the hotel room. He’d occupy himself with coffee or watching tv, but usually, you’d find him sitting out on the balcony, admiring the view of Paris. You two had the luxury of having one of the best views of the Eiffel Tower sitting right out your window.
At the beginning of the week, you took Jaehyun to the Arc De Triomphe and to the Palais de Louvre at night, making sure to get plenty of pictures. Then on Wednesday, you took him to try some wine at your favorite winery in the hills of the countryside, which of course resulted in you two to become a little tipsy and a little suggestive with each other. You got some wholesome pictures of Jaehyun too, some you’d use to make fun of him for. You also made sure to take him to the Luxembourg Palace, seeing how well he’d fit with royalty. Which he fit perfectly with.
The week was filled with pizza, pasta, wine, and pastries, and now here you were, sitting in the studio on a Friday evening, a little upset that you were heading home on Sunday. Jaehyun was quick to startle you, making you jump a bit when you were double-checking the mannequin and you jokingly slap his arm for distracting you from your work. You were almost done and all you wanted to do was to bask in the Paris air. 
“Y/n?” A middle-aged slicked-back blond hair woman with a tablet walked up to you. 
“Yes?” 
“Someone would like to speak to you,” she replied, fixing her glasses. 
“Who, may I ask?” You raised a brow. 
She cleared her throat before speaking like it was a secret, “The president of the French Fashion Federation.” 
“Oh,” your eyes widened and you quickly felt nervous settling into your blood, what did they want to talk about? Was it because of what I said to the hiring manager at the beginning of the week? Probably.
“Don’t worry, it’s probably something that’s not bad,” Jaehyun reassured you, but that didn’t change the fact that you were still nervous in talking to the founder of Paris Fashion Week. 
You nodded back to Jaehyun as you followed the woman. Just as he was about to wave, he received a call from his father. With his mind reminding him to be patient, Jaehyun accepted his father’s call, anxious to know what this call is about. 
“Hello?” 
“Where are you? Where have you been? I need to back this instant!” His father shouts from the other line and Jaehyun pries his phone from his ears, the loudness ringing through them. 
Until he knows his father isn’t yelling again, Jaehyun calmly responds, “I’m in Paris with y/n father.” 
“How come it wasn’t brought to my attention that you were going to be gone for a week?” his father booms, clearly frustrated from the miscommunication.
“I asked off about a month ago, you know that. It’s been on the calendar. I’ve also told you and mother about this several times.” 
“So in the time that we need to seal a deal, you’re off having fun and fucking around in Paris?” His father retorts. 
“No, you know that she’s here to prepare for Paris Fashion Week in the fall, father.” 
“I don’t give a living shit about her. You shouldn’t either.” his father begins, “Because you’re only married to her for business, you think this is all happy and fairytale-like? That everything’s all lovey-dovey just because you’re married upon a contract? No, I bet she doesn’t love you, she probably hates you because of you who are. A dirty, scathing, slug who only clings to the Jung name. Get your head out of your ass and get back home by Sunday,” he spats. 
Jaehyun doesn’t give his father an answer or bids him goodbye. He felt sick to his stomach, a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time since he was a child, and knew that he needed to go back to the hotel room before he hurled his lunch out. 
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The lady leads you to a luxurious office that overlooks the city of Paris. Like your office, the windows reached from the floor to the ceiling. A woman around the same age as the lady that led you to the office sat in the office chair facing the window behind her, she swiftly turned around once she heard your footsteps. 
“Hello,” you bowed to her. 
“Good afternoon, come sit.” She greeted you with a smile. 
You did as you said and sat in one of the available chairs in front of her desk, you crossed your legs and waited for her to begin, but she didn’t. The woman remained in her seat, staring at you as you bounced your leg, immediately stopping to show any signs of nervousness.
“Is there a reason why you called for me?” You carefully asked. 
“There has been a lot of word about your little banter with our hiring manager,” she tilted her head, a tiny smile growing on her face. 
“Oh yes, about that, I deeply apolog-”
“Don’t worry about it. You were right,” she removed her glasses, gently tossing them off to the side, “we are failing the fashion industry by not providing more diversity. I see how upset you were and I’m glad you brought it up, even if it was to the hiring manager, who is a man, so I’m not surprised he didn’t notice or even cared. We’re always finding ways to improve our shows and I wanted to let you know we are in the process of hiring more diverse models to walk the show.” 
You sat in your seat completely shocked. Not only were you speaking with someone you always wanted to meet, but you also made a difference in the show. Finally, someone listened to me.
“Is everything alright?” 
“Y-Yes! I-thank you! I don’t know what to say, I wasn’t expecting anyone to listen to me.” You timidly laugh. 
“Well, even though I heard about it first and planned to do something, you should be thanking someone else. I’m not sure what his name is, but a handsome young man managed to walk into my office, past all my security and secretary and told me what we were doing wrong. Jung Jaehyun I believe was his name? Anyways, he’s a very good convincer. Let me know if you know him, I want to hire him as a model.” she laughed. 
You laughed along with her, of course, the famous Jung Jaehyun just had to do something about it. You reminded yourself to let him know about it when you get back, but now you wanted to focus on the topic of hiring a diverse set of models. “He’s actually my fiance.”
“Oh perfect! That’s even better. I wish my husband would go to lengths like that. Well congratulations, when is the wedding?” She asked and all of a sudden you felt the nervousness dissolve into a comforting feeling, almost like you’ve personally known this woman.
“We haven’t officiated a date yet, but it’ll be this summer.” 
“I remember my wedding, such a magical day. Let me know if you want a dress, I’d be happy to provide you with some of the best designers I know.” She kindly offered. 
You two talked for what seemed like an hour, but when you looked outside, the sun was already setting, painting the room orange and red. 
“Thank you for an amazing conversation, but I’m afraid I must get going. Jaehyun’s probably waiting for me,” you say, standing up. 
“Of course, you have my business card, so let me know if you need anything. Thank you for helping us to be better,” she gave you a sincere smile and you bowed, shutting the office to her door. 
When you walked back into the studio, you couldn’t spot Jaehyun anywhere so you pulled out your phone in attempts to reach him, but it looks like he beat you to it. 
[ Loverboy: Sorry I didn’t tell you I left. But meet me back at the hotel! ]
You quickly picked up your things and left to go back to the waiting man. You called the driver to take you and sat in the back of the car excited to see Jaehyun. Since you were off tomorrow and were leaving Sunday, you had a day's worth of time to spend with him in Paris before you two left. 
When you entered your hotel room, it surprised you to see Jaehyun already sleeping soundly on the bed. His naked torso showed in the cool night with limbs strapped in the sheets. Jaehyun looked so adorable and at peace whenever he wasn’t throwing flirtatious remarks at you or trying to be suggestive. It was like he was the cutest kitten you’ve ever laid your eyes on, you just wanted to tuck him right in your little pocket. After you finished gushing over him, you quietly bent down to give him a goodnight kiss before hopping in the shower to clean yourself for the night. 
Letting the hot water flow through your body, you felt reflected on the conversation with the president of the founding company of Paris Fashion week. You were still beyond shocked that words got to her with the help of Jaehyun. Usually, no one listened to you because you weren’t at the CEO position yet, therefore you weren’t taken seriously. 
You stepped out, drying your hair to see Jaehyun sitting up and rubbing his eyes, “I’m sorry, was I too loud?” you felt bad if you were the reason for his waking.
“No, no I was waiting up for you then I guess I just fell asleep. I wanted to see you come back safely,” he opened his arms for you and you quickly came to him, burying yourself in the covers. 
You gave him a cheeky smile and pressed kisses all over his naked chest, you were so happy. So overjoyed and grateful for the handsome man that held you close to his chest. 
“What’s this? You’re usually never this affectionate,” Jaehyun pulled you away, “what have you done with my y/n?” he teased, gazing into your eyes to see if you were really you. 
“Stop it,” you grumble, pulling yourself back into his chest, “I know I don’t say it often but I mean it when I say that I love you, okay? I’m thankful for you and I’m happy when I’m with you.” 
“I know,” Jaehyun hums, his head leaning down on top of yours after kissing the top of it, “I love you too, you know that.” 
You two stayed in that position for a bit until Jaehyun felt your body slump in his arms. He peered down at you to see you asleep after a long day of work. Jaehyun lowered himself with you in his arms slowly onto the bed and turned off the lamp, kissing your lips goodnight, telling you one more time that he loves you. 
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When you woke up the next morning, Jaehyun was already awake, watching you from his propped up elbow. His head covered the light of the sun, making him look like he was lighting up your entire world.
“You always do that,” you groggily said, referring to the fact that whenever he’s the first one awake, he’ll always watch you sleep until you are. 
“And I’d do it forever,” Jaehyun brushed away the hair that stuck to your face from sleeping on it for so long, “you know you move a lot when you sleep?” 
“No, I don’t,” you turn so your back faces him. 
“I didn’t say that I didn’t like it,” you could sense the mischief in his voice as he slowly creeps to you, slithering his arms around your waist before applying pressure to it. 
“Jaehyun stop!” You laugh loudly, begging him to stop tickling you as you thrash your limbs everywhere. 
He didn’t stop until you had tears brimming at your face, perhaps he was a little too rough, “oh, I’m sorry baby,” he clings on to you like he was afraid you’d leave. 
“I’m not mad Jaehyun, you just made me laugh too much,” you try to pry his hands from your body, but he doesn’t budge or say anything, “let’s go get breakfast, hm?” 
Jaehyun nods, loosening his hold on you and sitting back up to see if you were actually okay, “I’m sorry, I won’t be so rough again.” 
“Jae, I’m fine. Stop being such a worrywart,” you reassured him, combing your fingers through his hair, “come on, I know a place. Let’s go before all the pastries are all gone!” you flip the sheets and run to the bathroom with Jaehyun right behind you. 
You two walk the streets of Paris, looking forward to the bakery you always come to whenever you’re in the city. They had the best chocolate croissants, it was flakey, buttery, soft, yet sweet, igniting every taste bud. 
“Oh, oh, it’s this one!” You point excitedly and run in, with Jaehyun quickly trailing behind you.
You grab a basket and start going at it in the bakery, while Jaehyun just laughs, watching you because you reminded him of a cartoon character running like a headless chicken, kind of like that moment at the grocery store when you two went out to buy ingredients to make homemade pasta. 
“She knows what she’s doing. She loves your pastries” he says to an employee who stands next to him astonished that someone could run that fast back and forth and know what they want. 
When you get everything that you wanted to share with Jaehyun, you pay for everything and drag him out of the store. You both ate from the bag as you made your way to your destination, the Hall of Mirrors. Since it was a Saturday, several people were out for tours and sightseeing and Jaehyun made sure to hold you close to him, afraid that he’d lose you in the sea of people. 
“I just don’t want to lose you,” he murmurs in your ear when you feel his familiar warmth on your waist for the hundredth time. You giggle, finding it cute that he says it as an excuse. The group of people was across the room and it was only you two who were freely walking around without a tour guide, you weren’t even close to people.
You stepped into a room full of color and painted walls, the ceiling being the highlighted piece. Paris was the city of love and fashion, but you also admire the artwork and history of the underlying city. The Hall of Mirrors held art that depicted the victory of three powers: political, economic, and artistic success of France. 
“357 mirrors??” Jaehyun pulled away from you, shocked at the number of mirrors, “how do you know?” 
“I counted them,” you reply, a proud smile painting your face. 
“Funny,” Jaehyun scoffs and leaves you behind for the next room. 
“I’m serious!” You call as you try to chase him down, but you’re too slow with your shorter legs and you lose him as you open the door and see no one. “Uhh, Jaehyun? Jae-?” you called and called for him but he never answered, you searched each hallway to only find yourself lost within the walls of art and mirrors. 
You whip out your phone to call him, but he refuses to answer your calls and you grow more frustrated at the fact that one, you’re lost and two, he just left you. You inhale a sharp breath and try your best to find the exit, but only fail when you see that you’ve only been going in circles. 
As you turn a corner, you knock into something particularly hard, “oof,” you palmed your forehead to only realize you’re face to face with a security guard. He had the longest legs you’ve seen, sharp facial features, and beautiful blue eyes, you stepped back to bring space between you two and gaped at his beautiful face. This man could literally be on the cover of Vogue. 
“Can you help me?” you manage to blurt out. 
“Sure, are you okay?” he kindly asked. 
“I’m lost, can you show me the exit please?” 
“Of course, follow me,” he flashed you a smile before leading you through the twists and turns of the monument. Soon, you were able to see the door that you came through initially with Jaehyun, but now it was only you, or so you thought. Just as you thanked the kind security guard and turned around, you’re met with the man himself. 
Jaehyun gives you an innocent look that makes you huff and walk past him, but he’s quick to gently grab your wrist. 
“You left me there, no lunch for you,” you stated, not bothering to turn back.
“I’m sorry I was just playing and I thought you’d be right behind me.” 
You turn to face him, “how do you expect me to catch up with you when you prance around with those long legs?” you point at them and turn again, walking away from him. 
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you,” he suggests. 
You nod, letting him continue. 
“Dinner at the Eiffel Tower, tonight at 6.” 
“Nope,” you cross your arms and pretend that you’re unsatisfied, which is far from the truth. You’d absolutely love to have dinner with him there, you just wanted to see how far you could go with pretending to be mad. 
All of a sudden, Jaehyun brings your body close to his, almost too close in a public setting. With a low whisper, he says, “that wasn’t a question, angel,” and then lets you go, showing that innocent face of his again. 
You scoff at the switch of personalities, “you think you’re all that, huh?” 
Jaehyun laughs, breaking that facade of his, “I do, but it worked didn’t it?” 
“Yes,” you walk away from him back to the car, “and I hate to admit it.” 
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For lunch, you let Jaehyun choose the restaurant and it turned out to be the best decision. You had your pasta, while Jaehyun had his, occasionally trading plates because it was normal for you two to do that and share. You two shared a comfortable conversation before heading back to the hotel. The walking, eating, and sightseeing both got to your bodies, so it was decided that a nap would be the best idea before dinner. 
Except when you woke up, Jaehyun wasn’t by your side anymore. You felt the coldness of where his arms usually would be and you woke up a little disoriented. You grabbed your phone that sat on the bedside drawer and saw a text he sent a couple of minutes ago. 
[ Loverboy: I’m sorry if I alarmed you if I wasn’t there when you woke up. There’s something special for you in the closet <3 ] 
Ouu is it a gift?? You excitedly jumped from the bed and opened the closet to see a Monique Lhiullie Two-Toned Velvet and Satin Gown on a hanger with a post-it note stuck to it. 
[ I’ll meet you at the Eiffel Tower, take your time in getting ready. ]
And so you do as the note says, you make yourself look nice and presentable while curling your hair for volume. You slip on the simple outfit, the flow of the satin half of the gown flowed down your legs, allowing a high slit on the side, while the velvet top elongated your neck and covered your chest, it was a humble and modern look. Looks like Jaehyun knew what you liked. You pair it with dark blue heels and some dainty earrings before grabbing your small clutch in your hand, making way to the car.
Without a word, you sit in the car and look at the view of Paris pass by. You couldn’t wait to see Jaehyun since he bought you a dress you figured that he’d be dressed nicely also. It’s been a bit since you’ve seen him in a suit because he’s been able to work at home, it gives you butterflies whenever he does. Seeing him all dominant and powerful.
“Miss, we’re here.” the driver drove up to the entrance of the monument where a waitress was waiting for you.
You thanked the driver and stepped out of the car, walking towards her, she was dressed in her nice uniformed outfit as she held a genuine smile to you. You followed her where she led you to level two of the dining area. Le Jules Verne. No matter how many times you came to Paris, you never got to try their food, but you heard great things about it. 
As you stepped off the elevator you couldn’t help but feel your breath being taken away as the view stands strongly in front of you. The view of you standing over the city of Paris, in the most famous monument, about to have dinner with your love, brought you so much gratification and contentment. Speaking of him, your eyes searched for him in the crowd of seated people, but he was nowhere spotted.
“Looking for me, love?” a voice behind you, making the butterflies fly to your mind. You snap around and see Jaehyun dressed nicely in a suit with his hair gently gelled back, leaving some loose hairs to brush his forehead. 
You gave him a bright smile as he reached for your hand, only for you to immediately take it and lock it with his, “well look at you. Don’t you look dashing?” 
“I would say so,” Jaehyun comes close to your ear, “but I’d say you’re rather ravishing,” he drags the last part and it sends chills down your spine. 
Instead of shoving him away like you usually do, you bring him closer to press a kiss to his lips. It’s desperate and hard, but it’s short enough to leave him grasping for more. 
You two sit yourselves at the table and Jaehyun takes his hand in yours, “but no, I mean it y/n. You look gorgeous today,” he caresses your hand, the loving touch calming down your nerves as the heat rises in your cheeks. 
“Hello, welcome to Le Jules Verne, are we interested in some wine?” The waiter came up to you and kindly asked with a bottle in his hand. 
“Yes please,” your eyes widen at the desirous bottle. How could you miss an opportunity from the hills of the countryside in Europe?
He poured the smooth, red liquid in both of your glasses and took your orders. Before walking off, Jaehyun persuaded him to leave the bottle for the both of you because he was convinced you two were going to finish it. 
Throughout dinner, Jaehyun and you couldn’t stop exchanging stories about your own childhood. He had a darker one, but he steered away from that, afraid that you still don’t like that side of him. Instead, he’d tell you about his summers at youth basketball camp, his summer vacations to Hawaii and the Bahamas oversees, and his job. 
“Jaehyun,” you spoke up, catching his attention from his gaze on his food, “do you truly love what you do?” you ask him. He was born into the position, so it was inevitable it’d be given to him whether he liked it or not. You thought that if he had the opportunity, would he have taken on a different role? Because you were born into this position too, but you knew that you’d choose to go into fashion either way or do you know?
Jaehyun hesitated, taking a little more time than you thought, “I do like it-” he nodded, “-really. I know I was basically born for this position, but even if I wasn’t, I feel like I’d still be interested in international trading. I mean I always wonder where I would be if I wasn’t born to be Jung Jaehyun. I don’t know, maybe I could’ve been a model.” he chuckles. 
“That’s believable,” you say, “when I was called to go speak to the president of the founder of Paris Fashion Week, she told me you were so handsome that she’d hire you to be a model.” you laugh. 
“I’d take that chance if that means that you get to dress me,” his brows take turns raising up and down and you scoff at his suggestive comment. 
“But I heard what you did,” you began, your fingers holding the red wine and swirling it in your hand.
“And what did I do?” his forehead creased. 
“I heard that you stormed into the president’s office demanding some change about the models.” 
“Oh,” Jaehyun’s lips form into an ‘o’ as he shyly looks away. 
You take his hand in yours and caress it, “Thank you,” you smile at him to receive the same genuine smile, “I mean it.” 
“Well, of course, it’s something you value. You stand up for what is right and it shows how big your heart is.” Jaehyun shrugs like it’s nothing but it means the entire world to you to hear that from him. The way his eyes glisten against the light of the restaurant, those deep sets of dimples settling in, it makes your heart swell. “I’d do anything for you.” 
“And same for you,” you strum, pursing your lips to the glass. 
By the end of dinner, you two go to the rooftop and admire the city below your feet with wine glasses hanging by your fingertips. The lights that reflected from the city bounced back on Jaehyun, painting his face the slightest color of gold. His floppy hair danced with the spring air as it flew by and you couldn’t help but lay a kiss on his cheek. Surprisingly, you weren’t intoxicated at all, but you were definitely drunk on the sight of him in the night sky of Paris. 
“What was that for?” He asks, giggling. 
“Nothing, you just look so handsome,” you respond, your eyes turn into crescents when Jaehyun’s do too when you reach to caress his cheek. 
He wraps your arm around your waist to pull you to his chest, your lips are close enough that you get a waft of the red wine “let’s go make love, hm?” he whispers to you, lips grazing against yours. 
You tilt your head back, laughter in your chest from his approach, “I’d love to,” you hum, pulling away to tug on his arm to take you back to the hotel. 
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The elevator door hasn’t even closed yet and Jaehyun’s hands were already all over you, feeling each inch of your skin. 
“You have no idea how much I want to rip this dress off of you.” 
“Don’t.” You mumble against his lips, “This cost you almost $4,000,” you whisper against his lips. 
Ding!
“I don’t care,” he grumbles, dragging you to your door as the elevator doors open. 
With jumbled fingers, Jaehyun struggles to take the room card out from his wallet with some of his own falling out. You chuckle at his hasty state and hold his hand, your touch reminding him that you have all the time in the world. Jaehyun inhales a deep breath before taking out the correct card and sliding it through the door, allowing access to the door. 
Like the switch of the sun and moon, Jaehyun’s persona did too. As soon as the door shut behind you, his strong body collided with yours along with his lips, wringing out a grunt from the impact. The kiss was heavy, fast, yet felt with an abundance of pleasure while Jaehyun’s hands roamed your body, feeling the dip in your waist and hips, the hills of your chest, and the rise of your cheeks. Eagerness settled into your bones when he nipped your bottom lip. 
With strong hands, Jaehyun leads you to the bed as he searches for the zipper of your dress as you make yourself busy by throwing his suit to the floor and fumbling with the buttons of his button-front. Before Jaehyun could pull the dress off of you, he wanted to cherish you at this moment. Your last night in Paris with him, with the lights turned off and the only source of light is the Eiffel Tower and the city. He was slow to pull down the sleeves from your dress, letting it fall from your shoulders on its own to reveal your alluring self, so naked, so vulnerable. All for him. With gentle hands, you stripped him from his button-front and lowered yourself to his knees, his dark eyes following you as you unbuckled the lock to his pants. Jaehyun kicked them behind him as they fell at your knees. 
With grasping hands, you held him by the hips to press a kiss to his hard bulge, as usual as it strained against the cotton material. He was quiet enough to let out a grunt, frantic to feel your mouth on his cock. You took your time to pull the last piece of clothing down, Jaehyun stepping out of it and throwing it somewhere in the room, you kissed up his hard member, as the tip glistened with precum at the bottom of his stomach. He mumbled something you couldn’t understand as you glanced up at him, but you knew he was dazed, crazy for your mouth. 
Slowly, you lead the cock into your mouth, wrapping your pretty lips around him as you take him farther into your mouth. Jaehyun’s hands found their place in your hair, quickly tying it up into a ponytail since he knew how much of a mess he could be. 
You began to pick up the pace, leading him in and out of your mouth faster than before, but making sure he wasn’t hitting the back of your throat just yet. With his hands settled in your hair, he had to refrain himself from taking the reins, afraid that he’d take it too far and hurt you. Although you two were intimate several times or had quickies, here and there, Jaehyun was just afraid of not being able to control himself whenever he’s around you because you’re just so hypnotizing to him. It was like every time your lips were on his, the only thing he wanted was to shut his mind off and feel you.
As soon as you felt his hips began stuttering and his breath hitching, you knew he was close. So with care, you pushed yourself until you met the base of his cock, your nose hitting his lower stomach with his tip hitting your throat. You were careful to swallow and let out a low, long, moan to send shivers down Jaehyun’s body. And like cause and effect, he releases as a pleasing groan.
From his head falling forward to gaze at you, he caresses your cheek and massages your head, “you look so-” he grunts, “-breathtaking sucking...my cock.”
You pull away from him, sucking his cock until you reach the tip then come forward to only have him hit your throat again and again. You continue to do so, abusing your throat until he’s quickly coming apart in your mouth, his stuttered moans, breakable gasps, have you wet too. You’re quiet in your sounds as you run your fingers into your panties, feeling the slickness of your sex and spreading them to your clit to arouse some stimulation. Due to your lack of control, a moan breaks out, sending vibrations to Jaehyun’s shaking body, and soon the warm and thick liquid shoots into your mouth. You use your best abilities to swallow as much as you could while catching your breath. Jaehyun is gentle in pulling himself from your mouth with an adoring gaze glued to the string on his cum dripping from your lips, wiping the corner as your breathing returns. 
Among swift arms, Jaehyun lifts you and gently sets you on the bed, the sheets and mattress attempt to swallow you as Jaehyun’s gaze does the same. He takes his time indulging himself in the naked sight of you, the only thing on you are your white panties, already soaked and only for him. His rough fingertips press your clit, making you instantly arch up, but Jaehyun’s quick to hold you down, his free hand pushing down your abdomen. As a smirk lifts a corner of his lips, he drags your panties down your legs, revealing your dripping sex for him. 
“All for me,” Jaehyun whispers, admiring the way fingers are coated with your wetness as he shares it with his mouth and the lips of your sex. 
You shudder when he inserts the same finger, along with another, that was in his mouth into you. He’s not gentle in his movements, for his fingers quickly in and out of you, the patience in him fraying. 
“Come on baby, you gonna come?” He looks at your writhing self when he puts his thumb on your clit, tracing circles on the small bud. 
Words fail to escape as your mind is only concentrated on climaxing on his long digits. You’re so close you can see the light, but Jaehyun slows his speed and you shoot him a dissatisfied glare as he backs away from you. You prop yourself on your elbows as his naked figure walks to the window, admiring the night view of Paris instead of you. The light of the Eiffel Tower and the city brings the room to aglow. 
You frustratedly sigh, as he doesn’t give you any of the attention you craved. You were so close to climaxing, you could almost reach it so you figured that you’d just do it yourself. You surreptitiously brought your hand to your clit, beginning to stimulate it again. 
“Don’t you dare.” Jaehyun sees your misbehaving hands reaching for your sex in the reflection of the window. He immediately walks to you who raised your eyebrows as he grabbed your arm, dragging you to the window. 
You grunt with the tight grip he has on your arm as he presses you up against the window. Jaehyun doesn’t give you any warning as he instantaneously thrusts into you, hands now around your hips to give him control. You grip one of his hands that clutches your hips as he rams into you repeatedly, gasps, and moans filling the room. You pray that no one next door hears you and halts this moment because you want it to never end. And while you pray, Jaehyun worships your body, the way you look so tiny in front him, whining and moaning all from his cock. 
“So beautiful. Show all of Paris who makes you feel this good,” Jaehyun groans in your ear. “Only I can make you feel like this.” 
You nod in agreement with only a whimper coming out to respond to Jaehyun. You’re overwhelmed with his hard member entering you over and over again, his tip hitting the right spot. There’s a growing warmth in the pit of your stomach telling you that you’re about to climax. You beg for him to keep going, to not ever stop at the pace he’s going at and he easily grants your wishes. 
Your naked body is pressed against the window, flattened against the transparent glass to give everyone in Paris a show. The specks of dots below you are the last thing you’re worried about, for you’re way too high to suspect anyone’s glance up your window.
With your neck tilting back, Jaehyun kisses your shoulder to give you tenderness, later trailing it up to your neck as his hands caress your waist. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well,” he whispers in your ear, eliciting a whimper from your lips due to your ability to make up any words. 
You’re completely dazed, the feeling of Jaehyun thrusting in and out of you washes over your mind and body. A cry rips from your throat and your head falls forward, forehead resting on the glass window, your breath creating a fog on it. 
“I’m...close,” you clamp your hold on Jaehyun’s hand whose hand sits on your waist, continuing to control the pace. You know he’s quickening it, you can feel it when he tightens his grasp. 
“Cum with me angel. Wanna feel you cum all over my cock,” he pants, his breath tickling your neck. 
The pace sends you to the stars, gasps are dragged from your throat and tears are streaming down your face. You hold onto nothing but your fist that’s tightly clasped together against the window as you get out a clamorous moan, squeezing your eyes shut as your sex violently clenches against his cock and your legs go numb. 
Jaehyun wraps his arms from behind, clutching onto you as he comes undone too. He slowly rides you while kissing your shoulder, telling you how beautiful you are and how great you did. You hum at the responses, wanting to speak, but drained to think of a sentence. Your legs become weak when he pulls out, quickly catching you with his embrace around you, and carries you to the bathroom, setting you on the tub to draw water. 
With soft touches like the Spring wind, he plants kisses on your face and this time he’s gentle in his touch. He strokes your hair and caresses your cheek as he lets your hair down, your hair brushing through his fingers. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he smiles down at you as you lean into his comforting touch, tired from before. But maybe you weren’t tired, maybe you were still dazed. 
Jaehyun waits until the water is drawn up until he gently sets you in the marble tub, the water bouncing from your impact. He’s great in persuading you that he just wanted to take care of you after the hard lovemaking, but you’re quick to realize that this is all just a trap as you feel his strong hands wander to your sex, the other leading to your breast. You turn around to see a mischievous smile on Jaehyun’s face and that’s when you knew you fell into it.
Jaehyun’s quick with his fingers once again, failing to bring any mercy to your pussy as the other pinches your nipple reluctantly. Your head falls back onto his shoulder as you suppress a moan when he dips two fingers into you, pumping at a fast pace. 
“Please,” you whimper. He kisses your temple, wanting to be all soft, but you just wanted him to ruin you. You know he wanted to also because of his hardened cock poking your back.
You remove his arm from your body and turn around until you’re straddling him, the water swaying from your movements. You don’t say a word, don’t give him a warning, and you ease yourself on his member, having him completely in you. 
An elongated moan is released from both of you as you begin riding him, the base of his cock rubbing your clit to stimulate more friction. Jaehyun begins to become more vocal, his grunts are becoming louder and his breath hitches as you ease in and out at a faster pace. You know he’s quickly coming soon and so are you. He holds onto your breasts as you bounce on him, throwing your head back from the pleasure only to receive harsh kisses on your neck. 
His lips. You grow a sudden craving for his lips and tilt your head down until you’re met with him. These lips are red, plump, and swollen from biting them, so of course, you went in to satisfy your hunger. 
The kiss is slow and loving. The creation of your lips against his, confirms you that you were made for each other. That you were always fated to for him. You tilt your head to deepen the kiss, letting Jaehyun’s tongue into you. The thrashing of your tongues mixes with the lewd sounds of your bodies hitting against each other and the water pooling to the floor from the constant movements. 
The growing knot tightens in your stomach and the grasp of Jaehyun’s hands on your body stiffens on your skin and you know he’s there. 
“Together?” You pant against his lips. 
“Always,” he responds. 
Jaehyun then takes control of the pace, he knows what makes you both come undone together and sooner or later, a groan rips his throat while you scream his name, unbeknownst to you, crying as you come down from another long-awaited climax.
Holding you in his arms with your head on his shoulder, Jaehyun strokes your head while riding out your high until he knows it’s the right time to stop. In the meanwhile, he murmurs words of love to you, whispering sweet nothings like a lullaby sending you to your dreams. 
In the midst of everything, he’s haunted of his conversation with his father. He didn’t mean to doubt your love for him, but after he treated you like shit in the beginning, was this too good to be true? Was having you in his arms too selfish?
627 notes · View notes
ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago
Text
Lost Part 8
Harry Potter Marauders Era 
Link  to Part 7 
Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 
Rating: M
_____
Regulus found himself staring at his father with wide eyes. This was the last thing that he ever expected to happen! When Regulus scoped out this cafe, he liked it because it was off of the “normal path.” He never expected his father to be in a place like this.
Reaching down, Regulus wrapped his hand around yours. If he had to break the law for underage magic to apparate both of you away from Orion Black, he would. Regulus wouldn’t let you be harmed. He had just gotten you back in his life and nothing (not even his crazy pureblood parents) would wreck it. Regulus was happy for once and that happiness wouldn’t be taken away from him!
If his parents thought that arranging some marriage to some pureblood girl would stop him from being with you...they had another thing coming! They could kick him out of the family, disinherit him, and leave his share of the Black family fortune to someone else for all Regulus cared. He would find some way to provide you with the life that you deserved.
“Dad…”
Regulus began but Orion stopped him with one icy look. Orion didn’t have to say anything to get his children in line. When Regulus and Sirius were small and behaving wildly it would take one look from their father to make both boys sit down...today was no exception. Regulus’ mouth instantly shut. The boy bit his bottom lip before looking down to avoid his father’s piercing gaze.
His eyes had flickered over to the girl huddled at his son’s side. You looked up at him with fear clearly written all over your face. You didn’t, however, move away from Regulus. That to Orion was bravery. If you knew who he was and didn’t try to run or back down, maybe you were more than a pretty face?
Regulus had scooted, if possible closer to you and was gently rubbing the hand that he was holding onto.
“I want to talk to you outside.”
Orion finally in his calm reserved voice. Unlike his wife, Orion wasn’t one for yelling. It took too much effort and made people too uncomfortable. His reserved nature usually got him everything that he wanted. Regulus turned his attention back to you as his father spoke again.
“She will be just fine without you for a moment. Wait here, my dear.”
Regulus gave you an apologetic look before standing and following his father outside of the cafe. He wasn’t for sure what Orion was about to say but whatever it was it couldn’t be good. He was about to learn that his “favorite son” was dating the one thing that their family hated most in the world.
Orion turned to meet Regulus’ wary gaze. He was thankful this scene was happening with Regulus and not Sirius. Sirius would have bitched the whole way out of the building. Regulus just followed after him with a frown on his face.
“The girl, Regulus, what is her name?”
Regulus looked down at his feet a moment before facing his father again.
“Y/n Evans.”
Regulus replied, keeping his tone calm and reserved as his father was silent for a moment.
“Her blood status?”
Orion watched as Regulus muttered “damn” under his breath.
“She’s a muggle-born. Go ahead and kill me.”
Orion smirked as Regulus closed his eyes. The boy was clearly waiting to be wiped from the planet. When no pain hit him, Regulus’ grey eyes fluttered open before focusing on his father.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
Regulus asked and was even more confused when his father smiled. What the fuck was he smiling about? Orion Black didn’t smile. When he did it was few and far between...just like his youngest son.
“I’m not your mother, Regulus.”
“I’m aware of that but I’m dating a muggle-born...that’s like first on the Black family things that we don’t do list. I should be kicked out of the family and never spoken of again.”
Orion motioned to the bench by the front door of the cafe. Regulus followed his father to the bench and sat down as Orion looked thoughtful.
“I’m not going to say anything to your mother. You should know that some of our family rules are meant to be broken. What Walburga doesn’t know won’t hurt her. For example, she thinks that I am at work right now. The girl is very pretty. What house is she in?”
It took all that Orion had not to laugh at the expression on Regulus’ face. The boy looked as if his father had been replaced with an alien and he was just figuring things out.
“Hufflepuff.”
Regulus replied, quietly as Orion nodded.
“That makes sense. You’re like me more than you realize, Regulus. I’m going to tell you something and I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself as I am keeping your Y/n’s blood status to myself. When I was your age, before it was arranged that I would be marrying your mother, I was in love with a girl from Hufflepuff. She was a muggle-born too. I let her get away from me because I didn’t want to disappoint the family. Regulus, if you love this girl then don’t let her go. You will regret it for the rest of your life.”
Orion chose to ignore the stunned expression on Regulus’ face as he took in what he was told. It took Regulus a few moments before he was able to speak. He never in a million years would have guessed that his father loved anymore but Walburga.
“What happened to her?”
Regulus asked. Orion sighed.
“She died in a car crash. You were six at the time. While I love your mother very much, I have never stopped loving Ana. If I had just been a little braver, maybe she would still be alive. You don’t need to be afraid of being kicked out of the family, Regulus. If you love Y/n then you need to be ready to fight for her because that is what it will be...a fight. My suggestion, again, is to not let her go.”
Regulus frowned.
“The family will never accept her since she’s a…”
Orion interrupted without meeting Regulus’ face.
“Don’t. Let. Her. Go.”
Regulus didn’t feel the need to argue anymore. He simply nodded at his father’s command.
“I won’t. Please, don’t tell mum yet. I want to wait as long as I can. At least until we are out of school and I can provide for Y/n.”
Orion stood with a curt nod. He had things to do and this conversation needed to end. He looked back to Regulus with a small smile. If Orion hadn’t noticed how much his youngest son resembled him, he saw it now. Regulus reminded Orion of himself at 16.
“Tell your mum what?”
He questioned before Regulus smiled.
“Nothing.”
Regulus said, softly as his father turned and walked down the street without another word.
Meanwhile,
You remained in the cafe feeling even more anxious with each passing moment. Would Orion hurt Regulus in the middle of a busy street? Surly, he would have more sense than that. Too many witnesses. The better question in your mind was how was Orion taking the news about his son dating a mudblood? You frowned at the word but was sure that was what Orion Black was calling you at the moment. The fact that the man didn’t curse you was still a shock all on its own.
The door of the cafe opening and closing quickly pulled you from your thoughts. Regulus stepped back into the building without his father behind him. You nearly jumped on his lap when your boyfriend took his seat beside you.
“Are you okay? Is he freaking out? Did you get kicked out of the…”
Regulus placed a finger on your lips.
“Everything is fine.”
He replied, seeing the questions building in your mind. Why was Regulus so calm when he was so nervous only 10 minutes ago? He looked as if he had just gone and had a pleasant little chat with his father.
“But Reggie…”
Regulus raised an eyebrow resulting in you shutting your mouth instantly. That look alone said “enough, hush.” He leaned down and nuzzled his nose against your ear.
“I’ll tell you everything, shortly.”
Regulus was mostly quiet until the two of you returned to the hotel room that Regulus had reserved. The two of you were returning to school the next day and Regulus wanted one more night of just having you to himself. Regulus knew, come the next day, he was going to have to share you with others again. He didn’t mind his brother and friends as much as he did people like Gavin McDonald. Regulus was still internally seething over Gavin asking you on a date. It didn’t matter that Regulus completely had you under his spell now...Gavin was still worth brooding over.
I’ll just pay him another little visit in a dark hallway so he doesn’t forget just who he’s dealing with.
You, meanwhile, had been keeping your mouth shut all the way to the hotel. Regulus was going to extremes to have your last night alone as “alone” as possibly. You had suggested Regulus just staying with you in your bedroom but he insisted on a hotel. This left you lying to your parents about where exactly you were going. Your parents were under the assumption that you were staying at Lucille’s when in fact you just checked into a hotel as Mrs. Black.
Regulus locked the door behind him as you took off your coat. You waited until he turned around to speak again.
“Do you think that witch at the front desk bought it when you said that we are on our honeymoon?”
Regulus smirked.
“Well, we don’t like 11 anymore. Give it another year and maybe we won’t get such weird looks.”
He rolled up the sleeves of his black dress shirt before pulling your body against his.
“We won’t have to lie much longer either. You know that I’m in love with you.”
You eagerly returned the sentiment and kissed Regulus hungrily. The kiss quickly escalated but was stopped when you abruptly pulled away and went to sit on the bed. Regulus remained where you left him looking confused. You never pulled away from him like that and he didn’t like being left behind.
“Are you going to tell me about what happened today?”
You asked. Regulus quickly moved to join you on the bed. Reaching out, he gently took your hand in his and stroked his fingers over your palm.
“Apparently I am more like my father than I previously believed. My father had a little love affair with a girl from Hufflepuff when he was my age. I never would have believed it possible but he seems to be okay with us. He also agreed to not tell my mother anything.”
Regulus smiled at the stunned expression on your face.
“So...he doesn’t care that I am a muggle-born?”
Regulus shook his head.
“He would be a bit of a hypocrite if he had a problem with us then told me about him loving some muggle-born himself. He told me that I should be ready to fight for you...and I am. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make sure that I keep you in my life.”
Regulus gently pushed you on your back and took his place over you. He leaned down to kiss your lips before making a path down your neck.
“I told you so.”
You said with a smug smile. Regulus raised his head up curiously.
“Told me what?”
“That Slytherins can’t resist Hufflepuffs.”
You slyly replied. Regulus smirked and pulled you into his arms. He didn’t want to rush to get undressed but now it seemed the perfect path to go down.
“Yes, you did and you were right. Now shut that smart mouth or put it to good use.”
______
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bts-ficrecs · 4 years ago
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happy birthday to my most favoritest man in the whole wide world. i am so late and i have no excuse. my husband needs to come and kick me in the behind. kim seokjin light of my life <3 don’t got nuthin else to say except that i love him with my whole heart and he is my favoritest upon favorites. enjoy these recs people :”)
Key: A- angst, F- fluff, M- mature (usually denoting smut)
2,561 Days by @gossamie​ (A)
Two years of marriage could not stop the relationship from falling apart. As an attempt to seek closure before the divorce, Seokjin and you retrace your seven years together.
Burden by @neonlights92​ (A F M)
After the death of his wife during childbirth Kim Seokjin is unable to hold his baby daughter without grief taking control. Just three weeks after the love of his life is taken from him so suddenly, Jin is expected to marry somebody new. You are foolish and have spent your whole life pining after Kim Seokjin from afar, even after he marries your best friend, Seul.  But suddenly Seul is gone and you are expected to marry Jin and raise his child. You know your heart is already in it, but what about his?
CEO!Seokjin by @yukheii​ (F)
Take my jacket, it's cold outside.
Count Suckula by @dreamyjoons​ (F M)
I forgot that we made plans to go to this halloween party and no I don’t have a costume, that’s why I’m half wearing and half stuck in my old prom dress. Help me!
Dame De La Nuit by @cyphahobi​ (F M)
first night on the job turns into a week long adventure of business and pleasure. landing business man, kim seokjin as your first client, turns your whole world upside down.
Definitely You by @moononthejoon​ (F M)
money can buy you everything, well, not everything, it can’t buy love. seokjin had found that out and now he remained wifeless. little did he know he would find love where he least expected it.
Final Sleigh by @floralseokjin​ (F M)
You took an (almost) immediate dislike to Seokjin during his first week at the office and six months later that distaste is not only still going strong, but also mutual. Working in sales, you view one another as competition, so what happens when you’re forced to organise the Christmas office party together? It’s a recipe for disaster, but one thing’s for sure, it doesn’t end the way you imagined it…
(Spoiler alert: you don’t wind up murdering him.)  
Hazy by @yoonia​ (M)
You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into.
Imprints (For the Boys in the Back) by Anna (arctic_grey) (A F M)
Seokjin is not looking for a relationship – he’s been there, done that, lesson learned. So when he somehow ends up in a fuck buddy arrangement with supposed one-night-stand Namjoon, he knows that he needs to handle the fling without emotionally compromising himself. He’s definitely got this! (Dear reader, he did not have it.)
Is that my shirt you’re wearing? by @snackhobi​ (F)
“No!” A high-pitched shrill of an obvious lie. “No, uh, nope. Nuh-uh. Haha, oh, Jin, always such a jokester, you.”
Lazy Day Cuddles by @ttttaehyungie​ (F M)
As payment for waking you up, your boyfriend owes you cuddles. You’re here to collect that payment. Anything that happens beyond that? It’s not your doing.
Let Go by @ot7always​ (M)
Your boyfriend spent so much energy taking care of others. Wasn’t it time for someone to take care of him?
Let It Sparkle! by @lamourche​​ (F)
it’s been a long time since you believed in unicorns, but sometimes magic has a way of finding you.
Long Live The King by @remembeo​​ (A F M)
Long live the King, and may he reign forever more.
Tenderness by @shookykookie​​ (A F M)
Droids didn’t have feelings, did they?
The Bodyguard by @wwilloww​​ (F M)
As your bodyguard, keeping you safe from the world comes with rules for Kim Seokjin. But you’re used to getting what you want, and you want him.
Untitled by @oh-hey-tae​​ (F)
It’s just a phone call.
You by @hoperiaworld​ (A)
Well, hello there. Who are you? You’ve got that over-sized sweater on. You don’t like to be stared at, you’re not here to be ogled. But your legs are bare. You like a little attention. Your shoulders are tense, your posture; defensive. Your eyes darting left and right. Alert. At the end of the day, people are really just disappointing, aren’t they? But sometimes, they surprise you. Are you, Y/N?
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ask-de-writer · 4 years ago
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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 51 of 83 : World of Sea
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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT
Part 51 of 83
by
De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)
140406 words
copyright 2020
written 2007
All rights reserved.
Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.
//////////////
Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users
Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.
All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.
///////////////////////
New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here
///////////////////////
Yawning with fatigue, they retreated to their bunks to sleep.  Up in the rigging the paddle-ducks became aware of the Sea Hawks that they were sharing their roosts with and fled in a small thunder of wings.
The Wide Wings, crests up, looked about alertly and then soared off. Shortly they returned, bearing trailing bits of seaweed which they began to tuck into the mainmast’s upper lookout.  They kept it up, arranging things to suit themselves.
Watching from the deck a few hours later, Tanlin stopped a sailor about to go shoo them away.
“Let t’em ‘ave t’e Wide Wing’s nest.  ‘T can be ane in trut’. Willnae ‘urt us t’ ‘arbor anot’er pair o’ refugees.  Our lookoot can climb past t’em an’ use t’e bosun’s chair from t’e mast’ead, as we’ve been doing.”
A short while later, Tanlin herself climbed agilely up to platform and laid a pair of fish where the Wide Wings could reach them.  They hissed at her and spread their wings in a threat display but took the fish.  She came back later with more.
It was not long before the Sea Hawks were settled into their nest on the starboard side of the platform and taking bribes of fish without a thought.  As long as the crewmen stayed on their side of the platform, the Wide Wings would tolerate their presence.  If, that is, the crewmen remembered to bring a fish.
Tanlin spent much of her free time up in the rigging near to the birds.  She even enticed one of them to roost on her arm.  She didn’t flinch when its claws drew blood.  Instead she gave it a small fish.  The next time that she came up, her sleeves were padded and her shoulders as well.
It was while she was up high, working with the birds that she saw something down in the water near the ship.  It was a long gray shape, ghostly in the depths.  It was far longer than the Grandalor.  She carefully put the Sea Hawk back into its nest and called down to deck, “Dragon, Ho!  Off t’e starboard side!”  She slid down a rope to the railing and jumped lightly to the deck.
Chapter 18: Frath
Barad ran forward across the rolling deck to Tanlin.  “Did you cry ‘Dragon’?”
“Aye, Luve.  Tis over t’ere,” she pointed off to starboard,  “nae t’ree fat’oms under.  Bigger t’an t’e ship by far an’ gray, wit’ light an’ dark patches.”
A hundred feet ahead of the Grandalor the water churned and boiled as an enormous head covered with spines and frills lifted from the sea. Large intelligent eyes regarded the ship carefully.
The Wide Wing Sea Hawks launched from their nest and swooped down at it fearlessly.  They screamed a challenge which the Great Sea Dragon calmly ignored.  They even dove and raked at the Dragon with their talons and claws.  At last, defeated by the sheer size of the enemy, they flew back to the Grandalor and landed on Tanlin’s shoulders, facing the Dragon with raised crests and partly spread wings, hissing defiance.
A voice so mild that it seemed impossible to have issued from so fierce a visage said, “Welcome to the center of my storm, Barad, Captain of the Grandalor.  You are well recommended by the fact that two of Dari’s favorite creatures defend you so.”  
The Great Sea Dragon’s head tilted a bit to look more clearly at Tanlin.  “Welcome to you also — Tanlin.  I see that there is more to you than meets even the inner eye.  You have, along with all aboard this ship made a choice that you must live with.”
Tanlin was standing legs braced, hands on hips, a Sea Hawk on each shoulder, the wind streaming her hair back.  “I’ ye donnae mind m’ asking so mighty a bein’ as yersel’ a personal quest’n, just ‘oo are ye?   Oi know o’ Blind Mecat an’ Dark Iren, o’ course.  Are ye Frath, t’e Dragon o’ Storms?”
The huge Dragon seemed surprised by the question.  “Of course.  I go with the storm to steer it and make certain that it will meet all of its ecological goals.”
“Ecological goals?” Tanlin said in outrage.  “T’is monstrosity,” she gestured all about at the racing, tumbling, gray and black cloud walls, rimmed white at the tops by late sun and lit internally by flashes of lightning, “came barreling t’rough a fleet! ’Oo knows ‘ow many ships ‘t ‘as sunk, ‘ow many lives lost?”
“I do,” said Frath with some asperity.  “No ships were sunk.  Twelve humans lost their lives, of which three were unrelated to the storm.”
“Oi’m sorry,” Tanlin apologized.  “Oi’ve a temper wen ‘t comes t’ t’ose Oi care about.”
“I understand perfectly.  Nor are you alone in that sentiment.”  Frath looked over to port, where the water was cascading from another Great Sea Dragon’s head.  This one was pure white and clearly blind, though equally obviously, it had no difficulty finding its way about.
Barad looked on, just a little awestruck.  Nevertheless, he offered courtesy.  “Blind Mecat, wisest of Dragons, I am glad to see you.”
“A few Gatherings ago, Barad, I would not have believed you, if you had said that.  I know that you actually mean it, now.  Do you know why I am here?”
“I suspect that you have been keeping track of what has happened to Kurin.  I will not try to defend the fact that I was in on the start of the plot against her.  I met Lady Tanlin afterwards, and she changed me — and my mind.  I tried to stop what happened.  I failed.  I am sorry that Kurin was hurt and that the Grython sailor died.”
“I have never liked you, Barad.  You know that.  In spite of my dislike, I try to base my actions on reality, not my feelings,” said Mecat, looking just past him with her blind eyes in the disturbing way that he remembered from past meetings, when she had appeared as a human. “I have a question for you.  How do you feel about the Lady Tanlin?”
“I love her,” said Barad simply, surprised at the inquiry.  “I married her by Arrakan law and it was not for show.”
The huge white head tilted in curiosity, “Why did you choose Arrakan law?  Was it part of fooling the Naral fleet about her origins and your violation of the Marriage Laws?”
Barad put an arm around Tanlin and replied firmly, “I know that you could read it so and many would.  The actual reason is in the Third Great Law.  Arrakan law allows marriage between any two who have no parents that share a ship name.  Our parents are of different ships and fleets.  When the Naral fleet agreed to our marriage by Arrakan law, it became completely legal.  She is my wife until one of us dies.”
“Let me smell you, Barad,” demanded Blind Mecat.  Her enormous head thrust forward through a gap in the rigging to where Barad stood.  A seemingly endless breath was drawn in as she nuzzled him from head to foot, the tentacles about her mouth pulled back.  “There is truth here; the last thing that I expected from you.”
The massive head turned to Tanlin.  “Some say that I know all things but they are wrong.  This I do know.  You are a person torn.  The role that you live is not the life of your birth.  You must chose, your birth or your role.  With either choice there will be loss.”
Tanlin wept.  “Oi already know t’at, Mecat, an’ Oi ‘ave chosen. ‘Owever t’e world falls, wit’ t’is mon, m’ Ca’tain an’ m’ Luve, is w’ere Oi belong.”  She looked the dragon in the eye and drew a breath to steady herself.  “T’e Orcas sang for Kurti. She’s gone.”  The Sea Hawks on her shoulders sensed Tanlin’s distress and stroked their beaks along her jaw and set to preening the hair about her ears.
Even though blind, Mecat appeared to look on in interest before saying, “I had heard from the Orcas that Kurti changed lives / died / and was celebrated.  It was confusing.  Now I understand that report.
“So be it.  You have a Dragon’s Gift.”  The breath of the Great Dragon was let out as mist over Tanlin and the two Wide Wings on her shoulders.  Tanlin felt a sort of peace settle over her.  Kurti and all of her life melted peacefully away until she was entirely gone. All that remained was a glimpse of a dying woman who sang a lullaby to calm a frightened cousin awakening from a long coma.  Tanlin was a single, whole person, at peace with herself.
The Sea Hawks preened her hair serenely and nibbled gently at her ears with beaks that could easily have sheared her ears from her head. Tanlin reached up and ruffled their feathers with utter confidence. She turned to the huge, fang filled muzzle and said, “Oi know t’at ye did somet’in’ for m’ but Oi’m nae sure w’at.  T’ese guys know ‘t, t’.”  She stroked the feathers of two of the fiercest predators of the air.  “Oi’ve decided t’at tis nae important t’ try t’ remember m’ past.  Oi’m ‘ere in t’e present.  Wa’ t’at yer gift?”
Somewhat sadly, Mecat said, “It is.  You are a single person now.”
“T’ats an odd t’ing t’ say,” Tanlin said, tilting her head in curiosity.  “‘Ow could anyane be more t’an ane person?
“I don’t know how to answer that,” Mecat replied.
Seeking to bring the conversation back to the Grandalor’s plight, Tanlin said, “Ye know, everane on t’is ship’s ‘ere because t’ey chose t’ follow Ca’tain Barad.”
“I do know.  They would not all have followed him alone, and you know that, too.  It was you as well,” the Great Dragon said crisply. “It is unfortunate that Captain Barad chose to flee justice.  A human crime was done and fleet justice must be served.”
“Naral fleet Justice?” said Tanlin in scorn.  “T’ey ‘ave convicted us wit’oot allowing us t’e right o’ rebuttal!  T’at’s against t’e Law o’ ever’ fleet t’at Oi know o’!  T’e Secund Groit Law requires ‘t!  T’ey’re nae better t’an t’e Ca’tain o’ Ca’tains!  T’at’s wye we fled.  We knew t’at wa’ ‘ow t’ey’d deal wit’ us.  T’ey ‘ad a chance t’ rid t’ t’emsel’ o’ t’e Grandalor an’ t’ey took ‘t wit’oot a second’s t’ought.”
“That is why, Little Bite,” said Mecat firmly, “that you cannot be allowed to flee over the pole.  The Dragon Sea is closed to your flight.  The fleets to the sides of you know of your conviction.
“The Naral fleet is my fleet, too.  They have to have the chance to fix their injustice.  If you succeed in fleeing, it will perpetuate the wrong and make an evil precedent.  The Captain of Captains did rise to power on the strength of one such evil.  It could happen again — to folk that I care about.  You must deal with the Naral fleet’s law.”
Barad slumped, “Then it’s over.  When the storm blows itself out, we surrender.  They will drown me and her,” he gestured at Tanlin, “and all of the other officers before they get around to trying the crew.  Then, perhaps, they will find their error.  I doubt that much sleep will be lost over it.  They don’t like me or my ship much.  I don’t blame them.”
Tanlin gave Mecat a calculating look.  “Perhaps nae, Luve o’ Mine. T’ere’s some quest’ns yet t’ be asked.  Mecat, ye said t’at t’e Dragon Sea wa’ closed t’ our flight an’ t’e reason wa’ t’e Naral fleet’s violation o’ t’e Second Groit Law.  Fair enow.
“W’at o’ refuge, w’ile tis sorted oot?  T’e Dragon Sea belongs t’ nae fleet an’ wad be t’e perfect neutral woter for us, so long as we are actively seeking t’ get justice.  Will ye allow us t’at bit o’ safety?”
TO BE CONTINUED
<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>
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gone4neow · 5 years ago
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The New King ♔ dks
Chapter Twelve
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- kyungsoo x reader, royalty AU, prince!kyungsoo
- warnings : swearing, mature content, arranged marriage, good looking men
- word count : 2,795
chapter eleven or chapter thirteen or masterlist
♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔
The princess took a deep breath as she looked down the small hill. At the bottom of the hill, she could see the reflection of the moonlight on the river's surface. If she looked harder, she could see the figure of a man sitting on the embankment of the river. Her heart pounded against her chest and her trembling fingers had shown up for an encore.
"I'm right here if you need me," Kyungsoo whispered against the shell of her ear before he placed a tender kiss against her forehead. She nodded and took a brave step forward. Once her feet had began to move, she couldn't get them to stop. Her footsteps were quiet, but the mystery man still seemed to hear them over the sound of the crickets singing into the night. He turned and looked at her with raised eyebrows. When she met his eyes, her feet finally found the power to stop. Her eyes were wide and full of disbelief.
The mystery man was Park Chanyeol.
"Oh my god," she whispered into the summer air. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion as she watched the tall man rise from his seat on the grassy ground. He walked over to her slowly. He swallowed his nerves as he made his way over and cleared his throat before he let a soft 'hello' roll off the tip of his tongue.
"Hi," The princess replied weakly.
"I think there's something we need to talk about," he told her quietly. She agreed with a simple nod of her head. He glanced up the hill, just now noticing Prince Kyungsoo standing with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. The man was already intimidating enough with the sun up. Chanyeol drew in a sharp breath at the sight but allowed the corners of his lips to lift.
"Your bodyguard for the night?" He questioned in a playful manner. The princess glanced over her shoulder at the man she loved and couldn't help but smile softly.
"You could say that," she replied. Chanyeol revealed that he lived in a small cabin next to the mill, along the riverside. He insisted that she joined him there, claiming that he had some things he needed to show her. She called out to Kyungsoo - who was at her side within a few seconds. Her hand rested against his right arm comfortingly as he glanced between Chanyeol and her with fire in his eyes. She explained that they were going to Chanyeol's cabin and he hesitantly nodded.
The three arrived at the cabin within just a minute. It was small in size but stood at an astonishing height. It was decorated with flowers all around and the walls of the cabin were painted a light blue that looked almost green due to the fire of the lantern hanging by the door. The princess would have never imagined Chanyeol living in such a place, but she thought it suited him well enough. The inside of the cabin was sort of messy, but it was a welcoming mess. It looked lived in; it looked like the man's home. He quickly lit a few lanterns and the small space glowed.
"I know this is all strange, but I promise I will make sense of it before you leave," Chanyeol told the woman. He cleared two seats around his small table, that sat neglected in the corner of the cabin. Kyungsoo and the princess sat down at the table and watched as he rushed around the small space. He collected a few leather journals, as well as a few scrolls, and finally took a seat at the table next to the princess. His eyes flickered up from the handful of items sitting on the table's surface to the princess's.
"I'm not entirely sure how to go about this, so please bear with me," Chanyeol told her. She could tell he was nervous from the shakiness of his words. His lip trembled as he spoke ever so slightly. She found herself feeling sympathy for the man, wondering if this is what she had looked like all day. His large hand grabbed at one of the leather journals and he flipped through it until he found what he was looking for.
"When I was a small boy, this man would visit me a few times throughout the month. I never really knew who he was until I was old enough to understand the concept of people existing outside of my mother. We lived alone - in a small cabin like this one on the outskirts of your kingdom's village," Chanyeol began his story, his eyes traveling across the piece of parchment in his hands. He stopped speaking and looked up from the parchment to meet the princess's eyes.
"The man's visits came to a slow when I was around nine. He told me it was because he had a child that he needed to take care of because her mother wouldn't. He would visit once or twice a month, but he would send me letters weekly. He would bring his daughter sometimes, but he couldn't after her mother found out where they had been going. Do you know who that man was?" Chanyeol asked the princess. She stared at him with curious eyes.
"Who?" She asked quietly.
"It was your father," he revealed softly. Her eyes grew at the revelation. She released a nervous laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Why would my father visit you so often?" She asked with confusion in her voice. Chanyeol handed her the piece of parchment that rest in between his fingers and she looked down at it with furrowed eyebrows.
"Because he was my father, too," the man confessed in a whisper. She looked up from the parchment and looked at him as if he had grown three heads. He was nervous and his eyes watched her every movement. He had anticipated her rejection for years now. Again and again, he had pictured this very moment in his mind.
"Read it," he urged her, nodding down at the parchment in her hands. She looked back down at it with a speeding heartbeat. She felt a thin layer of sweat covering her skin already. Could it be true?
'My Dearest Grace,
For years now I have hidden a large part of my world from you. The pain I have felt from having to keep my two favorite creations separated is indescribable. If you're reading this then that means I have passed away and Chanyeol has found you.
You're probably wondering why I have waited until this moment to bring you together. I've asked myself the same question for a while now. Perhaps it was fear - fear that your mother would end up tearing you right back apart.
I don't want you to be angry. I want you to live a life you can look back on and smile because you lived a life you loved. You do not have to accept Chanyeol with open arms, but he is your brother and I love him as much as I love you. Be gentle with him. I hope you can find it in your heart to care for him and to one day forgive me.
Love,
Your Father'
The princess held a shaky hand over her mouth as she stared at the parchment. For a second she thought she was going to burst out into violent sobs, and then she thought she was going to release her stomach's contents all over the table. Kyungsoo's hand found hers under the table and he gave it a gentle squeeze. She looked up at him and lowered her hand slowly. He could see the tears in her eyes, the pain and shock in her face's features. He hated to see her so distraught when he knew there was nothing he could do to help sooth her pain.
"You told me you didn't know me," she whispered accusingly at Chanyeol, her eyes finding his as she did so.
"I was told not to. You don't know how hard it was to keep quiet when I saw you in the bakery and then you came back multiple times after that... it was like you were taunting me. I've been alone for most of my life and I finally had the chance to have my sister - it wasn't fair," he replied to her in a frantic tone. She stood from the table quickly, and Chanyeol found himself standing just as quickly. He was just about to plead for her to give him a chance when she threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into her. He was considerably taller than her and bent down so that she wouldn't have to strain to reach him. An expression of relief washed over his face as he let his chin rest on her shoulder. He felt her shoulders shake as she cried and within a few seconds he was crying himself. Kyungsoo felt as if he were invading an intimate moment and looked away from the pair to stare at his empty hands. There were several things he had expected to happen tonight; this was certainly not one of them.
The brother and sister held each other for a few minutes and pulled away one another once their crying had died down. The princess laughed lightly as she looked at Chanyeol's tear stricken cheeks, letting her thumb wipe at them until they were gone.
"Come back to the castle with me tonight. We have too much to catch up on," she insisted. Without being able to say no, Chanyeol agreed. He told her to give him a few minutes to gather some of his belongs to go. She was fine with that. She took a seat next to Kyungsoo, her hands finding his.
"I have an older brother," she whispered with amazement in her voice. He smiled softly and reach over to wipe a stray tear from her face.
"You know what this means?" He asked her quietly. She sent him a questioning look. He glanced over at the tall man before he leaned forward and spoke again.
"Chanyeol's the new king."
Chanyeol and the princess stayed up until the sun was rising again. They shared stories about their father that neither had known before. The princess felt bad for having her father around her at all times while her brother had only gotten him for a few years, and so she let him do most of the talking. They laughed and they cried, but they had never felt more whole in their lives.
"I can't sleep," Chanyeol whispered into the dimly lit room. He glanced over at the princess, who laid with a peaceful expression. She asked him why he couldn't sleep without opening her eyes. She was exhausted, but she found herself not able to sleep either.
"I'm afraid when I wake you won't be here anymore," Chanyeol confessed. He watched as the princess's eyes fluttered open. She sighed quietly and shifted in the bed so that her head rested against his chest. He let an arm wrap around her lazily as he stared up at the ceiling.
"I've always wanted a brother and now that I have you, it will take a war to separate me from you," she mumbled into his chest. A small smile formed on his lips.
"I hope I'm a good big brother," he sighed. When the princess didn't reply, he realized she had fallen asleep. He tried to recall their brief moments together as a child, but he could only remember small details. He had been so angry at the universe for keeping him away from his family all these years and, finally, the universe had given him what he wanted. It was too good to be true. He let his eyes close, trying to evade the worrisome thoughts. Before he knew it he was slipping away from reality and into a dream.
He woke up the next morning to loud whispers. His eyes cracked open just slightly to see the princess gesturing towards him as she spoke with Prince Sehun. He hand his hands on his hips and his eyebrows were raised as if he were upset by what the woman was saying. Chanyeol quickly raised up in the bed and held his hands out.
"I c-can explain," he stuttered with a slight slur to his words. The two royal figures looked at him in surprise. The princess couldn't help but giggle at the sight of his wide, tired eyes and his messy hair. Sehun suddenly bursted with laughter and held onto his stomach as he did so. The sound of his silly laugh only made the princess's giggles blossom into full on laughter. She held onto the prince's arm as they laughed together. Chanyeol looked at them with confusion in his eyes.
"What?" He finally asked, aggravated with them. They slowly sobered up from their intoxicating laughter and looked over at him.
"I've already told Sehun you're my brother. Besides... I am not with Sehun," the princess explained. His eyebrows shot up quickly and he pointed at them accusingly.
"But you're engaged!" He exclaimed. The prince and princess shared a glance with one another.
"I'm with Prince Kyungsoo."
"And I'm trying to be with Junmyeon."
Chanyeol blinked at them once, twice, and then a third time before he raised his hand to pressed his palm against his forehead. He had always assumed there was complications within the castle but he could have never imagined anything this complex. He listened to the prince and princess as they explained their situations. Disbelief could not describe how he felt as he listened. Suddenly he was looking at both Prince Kyungsoo and his fellow employee at the bakery differently.
"Prince Kyungsoo - is he good to you?" He asked the princess once everyone had fell silent. He watched as her cheeks transformed into a warm, pink shade and an adoring smile formed on her face. It was an expression of nothing but love.
"Oh, he's the best. I could go on and on for days. He's quiet at first, but I think you and him will become good friends," his sister answered him. Prince Sehun scoffed before he teased the princess for being so in love with his brother. He couldn't deny the fact that seeing the two together made him happy. While he knew he would never be able to love her like she deserved, he knew his brother would. He was glad his brother was getting the privilege of loving someone as wonderful as the princess, too. He grew unusually quiet as he began to daydream about nieces and nephews. I'll be a damn good uncle, he thought to himself.
The princess introduced Chanyeol to all of their friends after lunch. They welcomed him with kind smiles while he bowed before them respectively. His sister assured him that he didn't need to do that - he was a king after all.
"Princess, how many times am I going to have to ask you out to dinner before you say yes?" Baekhyun asked the princess as they sat against the cool grass out in the garden. The princess pretended to consider his words thoroughly, while her brother's head snap towards them quickly. He had stopped talking mid conversation with Jongdae to listen.
"C'mon, I would do anything to have lunch with a pretty woman like you," Baekhyun added with a suggestive smile as he looked over at the princess. She was about to laugh and push at his shoulder playfully when her brother spoke up.
"Hey! Don't flirt with my sister like that when she's already spoken for!"
Everyone looked between the two men, feeling the tension in the air already. Chanyeol glared down at the childlike man who had been speaking with his sister while Baekhyun simply stared up at him with amusement. Everyone was even more surprised when the sound of Kyungsoo's laughter sliced through the thick, tense air.
"We're keeping him," he told the princess once he had finished laughing. She rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile.
"Baekhyun always speaks to the princess like that and sometimes she plays along. It's just their friendship - they know there's no feelings involved," Sehun explained to the king with an amused smile. Chanyeol's lips parted at the man's words. Jongdae and Jongin laughed at his expression, teasing him when they saw his face turn a bright shade of embarrassment.
He shook his head, looking down at the ground with closed eyes. The corners of his lips were lifted despite his embarrassment. He realized that this is what he had been dreaming of having all along. Perhaps this could eventually become his family.
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crowkingwrites · 6 years ago
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War Creatures (Ch. 31)
Pairing: Loki X Reader
Summary:  In a crossover of the Nine Realms and Westeros, you find yourself in the dawn of a rebellion. Odin, Lord of Pyke, has made alliances with your family, House Grover of Highgarden. Your father’s army will join Odin’s army to overthrow the King and take the Iron Throne. There is just one cost to this alliance.You must marry the dark, young prince Loki.In a world where Kings do as they wish, where war is an oncoming storm, and peace is nothing but a dream, you are lost but brave. Loki is more powerful than he seems, and love will grow from the flames of war.
Words: 2091  // [AO3 Link] // Warnings: None // Seasons 1-3 of War Creatures
Here’s where you can buy me a Ko-Fi! It is a small donation of $3 to help creators like me make more content for you ;)
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:Lia’s POV:
Beds were warm and soft in the early morning hours especially when your eyes roll awake for a moment and you realize you still have hours left to sleep. That was the comforting thought. The more time you could spend in bed, the more rest you would have. It was an absolute shame that I sat up, wide awake, my mind filled with anxious thoughts.
It had been a week since the escape through a portal. My mother had claimed herself as Head Septa of my care which did not amuse any of the septas here who could have done the job just as well as she could. I had been stuck in this bed for a week because my mother insisted, ‘The more rest she has, the easier it is for the baby to grow healthy in her.’ I may not have agreed, but my parents did agree on one thing.
The stress over the war was not good for me or the baby.
Still, there was no news of Loki or his men or at least no news had reached Highgarden. I rubbed my belly in circles, hoping it would calm me somewhat. All I could think of was Loki’s corpse rotting in the forest without any chance of saying goodbye.
I shook the thought out of my head and placed my feet on the ground in my old bedroom. I hoped walking around would help or at least distract me from those darker thoughts. My mother had kept it just the same even after we took the Eyrie and called it home. I had heard from a servant girl that someone had asked her if she would like to remodel this room, and she responded by almost throwing the servant out onto the streets for suggesting such a thing.
As I looked around the room, things looked the same. There was a wide window with light curtains. Floral patterns and golden swirls ornamented the green background. A window seat was made for me when I started to read on my own. I remembered I would often stay inside during nicer weather so I could read in peace.
I let my hands run over my stomach again. I remembered what my father did to me. He hid knowledge from me. I wouldn’t do that to my son…my son? No, I could be having a daughter. Why would I say daughter? Did it truly matter if this baby was a girl or a boy?
I breathed for a moment. Letting my mind wander was not the best idea. I had a quick idea and opened my bedroom door to see Xerxes standing guard. He turned to me confused.
“My lady? It’s late. What—
“Would you come in? I can’t sleep.”
As Ser Xerxes came into my bedroom, his eyes darted around the place. Studying each part as if he was never going to see it again. His wide brown eyes looked over my shelves filled with books. His fingers reached out to touch the spines, letting him feel the bumps and different thicknesses of each tome.
“I didn’t realize you read so much, my lady.” Xerxes said.
“I’ve read every book I got in my hands,” I chuckled. “My mother liked to brag to other noble ladies that I read faster and better than their children. She lost many friends that day.” I continued chuckling, but Xerxes continued to look through the books.
“This whole shelf is nothing but romantic stories,” Xerxes smiled. “I didn’t take you as the type for enjoying these frivolous stories.”
“Not every story needs to be educational and serious, Xerxes,” I grabbed a book off a shelf. “Sometimes we need stories to take us away and let ourselves escape. If we didn’t have stories like this, I figure the whole world would go mad.”
“And that book?”
“It’s my favorite one. My father had the author come talk with me about it and sign it for me. It’s about two lovers. One is across the Narrow Sea in Essos trying to find a way to come home to Westeros so he can be with his lover. They send love letters back and forth. It makes my heart swell.”
“Love letters?” Xerxes smiled. “I’m afraid I’ve assumed wrongly of you. Back inside the hole underneath the camp, you seemed so calm and in order of everything. So certain that we would survive. I didn’t think you would favor things like this.”
“Have you considered maybe I am both?” I placed the thick tome back on the shelf. “Knowledge is power. The more you have, the better you can use your own power. Of course, our king disagrees. He believes power is power, but he forgets his people are smarter than he is.”
“Do you believe you’re smarter than the King then?” Xerxes laughed. It sounded deep, but it came out more as a titter than a belly laugh.
“Maybe I could be, or maybe not.” I sat on the window seat. Letting my fingers feel the cold windows. “What about you? Do you enjoy romance and adventure?”
“I suppose I do, my lady,” Xerxes nodded. His dark curls moved around his head. One fell to the front and he pushed it back.
“Are you married? Do you have someone you care about?”
“No, I am not married, but there is someone who has caught my eye recently.”
I sat straight up. “Tell me about her. Does she live in the castle?”
“Yes,” Xerxes said nervously. “She’s very comfortable here.”
“How did you meet her?”
“This war. I met her on the way here back from the Eyrie.”
“Oh! So this is very recent then,” I stretched my dress as I crossed my legs on the seat.
“Yes, you can say that,” Xerxes sighed. He glanced back at the books. “Does your husband Loki share the same enthusiasm for love and adventure as you do?” I felt my heart sink. The dark thoughts entered my mind once again.
“He did. No, he does. I—
“My lady?” Xerxes interrupted. “Are you alright?”
“I can’t seem to get the thought out of my head. What if Loki and his men are gone? What if they are dead to the world and their bodies are just—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be—
“No, I’m sorry,” Xerxes placed his hand on my shoulder. “You are not the only one who is concerned. I may be posted outside your door at all times, but I hear the others. Some are scared. Most are praying. I saw one of your sisters making a prayer wheel for Loki.”
“Dahlia,” I smiled. “She was always the most religious one of us all. She’s read most religious texts from around the world, and her faith with the Nine is still strong. I admire her.”
Xerxes nodded. “Your father has been working day and night to find Loki or any kind of news. He’s sent out his fastest eight riders. Two North, Two East, Two West, and Two South. He even went as far as to send ravens to Thor and Lord Odin.”
Thor. I had forgotten about the sweet, princely man. Since Fandral and Elise’s wedding, all letters between Sif and I have stopped. I’m sure she was pressured to just the way I was. Sometimes going to war against family meant risking everything you had, and you prayed that the risk would pay off. I thought of their sweet blonde boy and I wondered how big he was. Was he walking? Did he say his first word?
“I hope Thor will come through,” I said, sounding more defeated than I wanted.
“Not Lord Odin?”
“Do you not remember, Xerxes?” I questioned him. “Lord Odin was never Loki’s father. Loki was a trophy of war against the Frost Giants. He doesn’t belong on the Iron Islands. Surely, Lord Odin wants nothing to do with him. If there was anyone who could help him now, it’s Thor.”
“You sound as if you don’t believe Thor will help.”
“Thor believe Loki isn’t fit to be King of the Nine Kingdoms. He is, in a way, our enemy. Loki is fighting to be King. Thor is fighting for the right to be King.”
“But both are for the same cause, my lady. King Malekith must die.”
“Yes, but both brothers want different endings.”
“And what do you want, Lady Cecelia?”
The question struck me across my face. From hearing about King Malekith’s plan with his boy army and his madness growing to forcibly agreeing to an arranged marriage. From leaving my home and seeing it attacked to taking another home and giving it to my best friend. I watched my people die. I watched my soldiers die. Elise and Fandral. And now possibly Loki.
This whole time and no one has ever asked me what I wanted from this war, not even my husband, Loki.
“I-I don’t know,” I admitted out loud. “I want him dead. I know that much.”
“Do you wish to be queen?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t want to be queen to have power. Whoever ends up being queen should be ready to have her heart and mind open for the people she will serve.” Xerxes smiled at me. His hand almost reached for mine, but he held it back.
“I believe you’ll make a wonderful queen. I’ve seen it.” Xerxes smiled at me.
“Thank you for your kind words. I think I’ll be alright now. Thank you again.”
“For you. Anytime, my lady. My sword is yours.” Xerxes bowed and left the room to return to his position outside. I climbed back into bed and felt my heavy eye lids droop and eventually shut to the world out there. The sleep was peaceful to say the least especially since my mother gave everyone strict orders to not wake me up early.
The sun was high in the sky, but it was climbing its way up when I finally awoke. My mother and a servant promptly entered the room with a tray full of fruits and fresh milk. I spied pieces of toast already buttered. My mother opened one of the smaller windows to let in fresh air.
“Good morning, sweet girl,” my mother sat on the bed and watched me eat. “How are you feeling?”
“I had a hard time sleeping last night,” I said. “I can’t stop thinking about Loki.”
“I understand. I’ve spent many night worrying over your father. Even now, I walk around the castle at night because the fear is so strong. Just have hope, my dear.”
“Have we heard anything? Any ravens?”
“Possibly. A raven came back early this morning from the North. Your father took it and went to his room filled with those dusty men.”
“Mother, they’re respectable leaders and generals.”
“They’re old and they smell.” My mother, Lady Magnolia, was named after a lovely flower, but she herself was not known to be as lovely. Some people have questioned where my sisters and I got our kindness. I usually point to my father, but that would only start an argument.
“So, we’ll have an answer?”
“By the afternoon. You know them. They can’t agree to anything, but I wouldn’t worry about that now. I have a very good friend of mine coming to see you. She helped me bring all three of my girls into the world, and now she’s helping you.”
“A midwife?” I asked.
“Yes, and a very learned one. She recently came back from Essos and learned their ways of childbirth and rearing. And she happily agreed to help you.”
An older woman walked into the room. Her gray hair was braided with gold and red beads strung onto them. Her skin was a russet brown. It reminded me of the sands in Essos and how the continued forever just as the wrinkles on her skin seem to never have an end. She didn’t wear traditional dresses like any Westerosi woman, but had a bold-patterned fabric wrapped around her.
“My, my,” she said. “You have grown into your own beauty, haven’t you?”
“Thank you,” I said with an unfortunate amount of toast in my mouth.
“I may know you, but you don’t know me. My name is Eir. I’m here to help you and your baby. Is this your first?”
“It is,” I nodded. Eir had a servant place a bag nearby the bed. Eir sat down opposite of my mother and held my hand.
“Then let’s get started.”
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mightygarchomp · 7 years ago
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Why I Love Goro Akechi: A (Long) Character Analysis
(WARNING: SPOILERS FOR PERSONA 5 LEFT AND RIGHT.)
(ADDITIONAL WARNING: Due to how controversial Goro is as a character, I’m definitely gonna get people disagreeing with me, and that’s perfectly fine. Just don’t start tossing in death threats, kay? Kay.)
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Goro Akechi. One of the most controversial characters I’ve ever seen in a video game. Opinions on him are widely varied; either you love the guy and feel sorry for what he’s gone through, you can sympathize with him but dislike the lengths he goes to, or you just plain hate the guy due to his actions.
Well, if you couldn’t tell from the title of this analysis, I’m in the first camp, and proud of it.
I accept the risk of an angry mob going for my head in saying that Goro may just be my favorite character in a video game. I love pretty much everything about him, and yet I’m actually legitimately angry at how Atlus treated the guy. Seriously, they had a goldmine here and they wasted it. But whatever, I’m not here to rant about how disappointing Persona 5’s endgame was (though if you REALLY want me to do that, let me know). I’m here to pick apart Goro Akechi. Just what made him into who he was? How did his newfound Persona powers affect the course of his life? And what lead to him pulling the ultimate sacrifice? I’ll be answering all these questions - and hopefully more - in this analysis on the dashing Crow.
Part 1: A Life Full Of Hatred - How Goro Became Who He Was
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All of the Phantom Thieves have pretty terrible lives, don’t they? The death of Futaba’s mother gave her some pretty intense survivor’s guilt, Haru’s stuck in an arranged marriage with the worst fiance imaginable, et cetera. Well, I think very few people will argue with me when Goro has the worst of it - save perhaps Futaba, but she gets over her issues. That never truly happens to Goro, even in his final moments. And can you really blame him?
The basic gist of it is this: Goro was born as an illegitimate child who was abandoned by his dad before he was even born. His mother either died from childbirth or killed herself out of shame, which left Goro to be passed around from foster home to foster home by the court. Throughout his entire life he’s never really had anyone to call a friend due to being shunted around. And note that this is just what he tells you before you find out what he’s really up to. When you find out who that dad is, things get much worse.
Goro’s dad is none other than Masayoshi Shido, the main antagonist of the game and one of the most heartless characters I’ve ever seen in a video game. Of course, Goro resented Shido for abandoning him, but he couldn’t really do anything. I’m not completely sure how Goro managed to find out how Shido was his dad, but that’s less an issue with his character and more an issue with Persona 5’s writing, so we’ll skip over that.
A lot of people like to say Goro’s just a guy with daddy issues, but I’d like you guys to keep in mind that this takes place in Japan. If you live in America, then this probably isn’t as much of an issue, but in Japan, being a bastard child is a huge problem, to the point where you’re basically born an outcast. Japan has a family registration system called koseki, which - until 2013 - did nothing to protect against discrimination towards illegitimate children. And keep in mind that his foster homes were probably aware of this, so imagine all of the hatred and discrimination he went through.
Honestly, with this information, it’s no wonder he grew into the bitter, resentful person he was. Never being acknowledge by his father, having to put up with loads of abuse... his early childhood was a terrible mess, to the point where he seems to have little in the way of self-worth. He outright calls himself a “disgrace to the world”. It also puts his ultimate plan into perspective, considering this would destroy Shido’s reputation - and also any trust in government, which would throw society into chaos AND give him the revenge and closure he desired on all the adults who abused him.
Despite his princely detective mask and fame, he has some pretty deep-rooted issues to the point where he’s not only angry that the Phantom Thieves are “better than him” (as he perceives it) but also terrified. The few things he actually has in life - his fame and image - were at risk of being worthless, considering he perceived the Thieves as having things he didn’t despite him being much more successful than them. It shows that even with all this fame he’s not really that happy. And worst of all, he had no chance to change his terrible life.
Or did he?
Part 2: A Chance At Revenge - Goro’s Wild Card Abilities and His Father
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Goro may have hit rock bottom, but he found hope when he gained the ability to use Personas - and also the possible power to get revenge on his father, who he was formerly powerless against. But he’s not just any Persona user; he’s a Wild Card. This wouldn’t be much of a big deal before Persona 3, considering from what I know everyone was a Wild Card, but after Persona 3? We never really got Wild Cards other than the protagonist, save maybe Adachi. And even then, Goro was the only one to actually use multiple Personas in battle. Or, well... two.
See, most people complain that Goro’s boss fight could have been a lot cooler, with him switching between Personas, but these people are missing the entire deal of the Wild Card. Goro was unable to fully utilize the power of the Wild Card because he had no bonds. Of course, you may wonder in that case... what’s the deal with his Personas? Which one is the original, and how did he get a second one? Well, my theory is that Loki is the original. It would make sense, given his whole deal of causing mental shutdowns and sending people berserk - the main thing he did with Loki.
Of course, in that case, how did he get Robin Hood? Well, my theory is that there is one bond he made: his bond with Joker. He’s legitimately regretful about the turn of events that leads to his boss fight, and wishes he could have met Joker beforehand. Morgana even points out that he’s happy when he’s with Joker. The other Thieves treat him with scorn initially, and by the time they start warming up to him, it’s not enough to get a true bond. But Joker was... well, depending on your choices, the nicest one to him. At the very least, he’s the one who interacts the most with Goro.
Of course, there’s probably going to be the inevitable argument of “you can still fuse Personas if you don’t have the Social Links yet”. However, one thing I’d like you guys to keep in mind is that we have no confirmation that Goro even got to see the Velvet Room. During his confrontation, his exact words are “Someone, be it god or demon, gave me a chance...” which implies that he has no idea how he got Persona powers. If he doesn’t have access to Igor and the Velvet Room assistants (notably, Caroline and Justine never mention him) then how’s he supposed to fuse new Personas? He had no one to guide him into believing he could negotiate with Shadows, either, unlike Joker. So it makes sense that the only Personas he have would be born from his own heart - one from his sheer hatred for the world and Yaldabaoth’s gift, and the other one being from his bond with Joker.
With that out of the way, let’s talk about Goro’s plans from there: he came to Shido as an unknown benefactor and offered him his services. Of course, seeing as Shido saw him as a useful pawn, he accepted, and the two entered a partnership. Goro was effectively Shido’s personal hitman - and this started two years prior to the events of the game. Basically, Goro became an assassin right out of middle school.
Of course, the biggest elephant in the room is... if Goro is so sympathetic, why did he murder so many people, including being responsible for Wakaba Isshiki and Kunikazu Okumura’s deaths? Well, the thing is... keep in mind Goro has gone through a lot. His dad was basically responsible for his terrible life, and since we can infer he was regularly abused at his households, he probably became pretty fixated on getting revenge. Imagine not getting closure for over a decade for someone who made your life a living hell. Goro is very determined to get revenge on his father, no matter the circumstances. He pretty much had to do exactly what Shido told him if he wanted to get revenge. Keep in mind Shido is willing to kill pretty much anybody who isn’t useful to him anymore. One wrong step and Goro would probably be a victim.
Furthermore, another thing to keep in mind is that throughout all his live, Goro has been severely affection starved. He’s had no friends or family that really loved him. At this point he’s willing to do anything to get acknowledgment from someone even if it’s just for his talents. By the time he found a real friend in Joker, he thought it was too late to really change. Goro outright admits he just wanted to be loved and acknowledged by someone, but due to his own narrow-minded views and the refusal to accept the fact that he wasted two years of his life murdering people and obeying the person he hates most for nothing, his ability to back out is long gone. In Goro’s life, anyone could die.
The most important thing, however, is that even with Persona powers, he’s just a kid going up against a powerful conspiracy. What could he do to escape the cycle of abusive homes? The only real option he could think of to take was revenge. And honestly, I can’t blame him. Even if he’s done some terrible things, he couldn’t really be a hero in the first place, considering he didn’t even know stealing hearts was possible until it was too late.
Luckily, he did see the light in the end... kind of.
Part 3: A Desire For Redemption - The Lead-Up To Goro’s Sacrifice
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With my personal disdain for Persona 5’s endgame, I won’t deny that Goro’s redemption arc could have been handled far better. That said, there are clear signs of it. The big question for this section: What built up to Goro eventually sacrificing himself for the Phantom Thieves in a situation that he could’ve escaped from if he had done something as simple as move back a little?
Well, let’s start with the most important part: his friendship with Joker. As you find out in Shido’s cruise ship, despite being a traitor, Goro didn’t lie about his past to Joker - he just left out the more important parts. For a guy who’s perfectly willing to lie and seems heartless, that’s kind of odd, wouldn’t you think? Why would he spill such personal details? It’s obvious he holds Joker in high regard, which is made even more evident as you meet up with him more often and rank up his Confidant. In the final confrontation with him, before he starts to get more hostile, he laments that he couldn’t have met Joker earlier, before he deemed it too late to change.
This carries further through the dungeon he joins you in. Throughout the Palace, Goro is getting hazed by the other Thieves because they’re onto him. However, as the dungeon goes on they start to respect him more for his wit and assistance. Goro was probably feeling good about being admired by people who aren’t complete sociopaths like Shido, and he no doubt wanted to hold onto that feeling, but ultimately decided to go forward because he had sunk too much into his mission with Shido. How could I assume this? Well, after he kills Joker and talks to Shido about the deed, he manages to convince Shido not to have him off the other Thieves, AND also ignores Morgana’s existence and lies about it to Shido - the man he’s pretty much the obedient puppet of at this point. That speaks volumes.
So what happens when the Thieves manage to convince him that it’s not too late for his life to take a turn for a better? Well, one beating-the-crap session out of him later, they outright admit they admire his strength and wit, but also gently admonish him for his power being fueled by hate and anger. Then they give him the option to join them against Shido - for real. A part of me wonders what would have happened if he was able to say yes before Cognitive Goro showed up...
Regardless, this leads to Goro pulling the ultimate sacrifice: blocking himself off from the party and performing a mutual kill on his cognitive self. We’ve already established the lead-up to this, but one thing I noticed is that Goro had an easy escape route. If he just moved a little bit - or, hell, even dived - he could have ended up on the other side of the wall and Cognitive Goro would have been unable to stop him. Why didn’t he? Well...
The biggest reason is that even if Goro changes, as many fans like to point out, his crimes aren’t magically erased. Goro is well aware what he’s doing is wrong, even if he considers it his own twisted “justice” at the same time. Given his demeanor after he’s defeated and the fact that he didn’t reform due to how much he had put into this plan, it’s easy to say he probably doesn’t think he can atone for his crimes with any method other than, well, death.
The other reason is also interesting: Should Goro have escaped, that wouldn’t have helped with Cognitive Goro. He’d still be active and roaming the Palace and could kill the Thieves. Goro’s intelligent enough that he probably considered this and wanted to remove the Thieves’ biggest opponent for good - and the only way to do that was by sacrificing himself.
Or, y’know, he just didn’t have enough energy to move out of the way in time.
Part 4: Closing Thoughts + Should Goro Turn Out To Be Alive?
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This doesn’t really relate to his character, but I figured it’d be interesting to include. There are people who think Goro should either stay dead or turn out to be alive, but have to atone for his crimes. What do I think?
Well, this is down to some heavy personal preferences, but I think Goro should stay alive... but only because his redemption arc was pretty rushed due to the endgame’s rather poor writing. They could have done so much more with Goro, honestly, but his redemption arc just kinda happened - and what makes it worse is that he’s mentioned maybe three times max after his death.
The reason I think Goro should have survived his death is because he deserves so much more than what he got. His arc could’ve been absolutely wonderful with how complex a character he is. All he wanted was acknowledgment and love, and we can all relate to that, right? He may have committed some truly heinous crimes, but I think he would have turned out far differently with the right people around. Even if no one else will, I’ll stick up for him any day and give him the affection and respect he deserves.
Thanks for reading.
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arplis · 4 years ago
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Arplis - News: The 50 Best Alt-Rock Love Song
s Not all love songs are romantic. Not all love songs are even happy. It all depends on your definition of the term. For every “My Girl” or “Your Song,” there’s at least one track with a nuanced take on the darker, more complicated sides of love — the drama of a long-term relationship, the fear of losing a partner, the void left in love’s wake. Many of those songs fall under the admittedly broad umbrella of “alt-rock.” So to mark Valentine’s Day, we decided to gather 50 of our favorite “love songs” in the genre — both conventional and otherwise. Throughout this list, you’ll find lines about blooming romance and marital bliss. You’ll also find nods to drug addiction and car crashes. There’s something for everyone. – Ryan Reed   50. that dog. – “I’m Gonna See You”   You take the good, you take the bad. You settle in for the longest haul, one that’s meant to end whenever one partner or the other passes away. Sunny, glossy and droll, “I’m Gonna See You” fairly tingles the spine; there’s an underlying optimism about marriage and domestic life here that’s leavened by level-headedness and firm realism. that dog. set the controls firmly to mid-tempo, as placid frontwoman Anna Waronker serenades an unknown subject who might as well murmur every verse and chorus right back at her: “I’m gonna see you in the morning / I’m gonna see you when you’re uptight / I’m gonna see you when you’re boring / I’m gonna see you every night.” – Raymond Cummings     49. PJ Harvey (featuring Thom Yorke) – “This Mess We’re In”   PJ Harvey didn’t need Radiohead’s enigmatic frontman to sell this bleakly beautiful 2000 duet. But it’s chilling — and slightly dislocating — to hear these worlds collide, resulting in a hall-of-fame-caliber swirl of romantic misery. “I’d long been interested in the idea of somebody else singing a whole song on a record of mine, to have a very different dimension brought in by somebody else’s voice,” Harvey told the Los Angeles Times. “It adds so much dynamic within the record to have this other character coming in.” And while it’s still hilarious to hear Yorke, master of the abstract, sing lines this nakedly sensual (“I dream of making love to you now, baby”), he inhabits that character with ease, his falsetto offering a ghostly counterpoint to Harvey’s measured spoken word. – Ryan Reed   48. Yellowcard – “Ocean Avenue”   There’s love, sure, but “Ocean Avenue” is also an anthem of youth, recklessness and pop-punk. Something about the chugging riffs, infectious chorus and cliche lyrics made it an instant classic destined to soundtrack every Emo Nite. The highlight is, of course, the sentiment that’s as predictable as everything else: “If I could find you now things would get better / We could leave this town and run forever.” Just like Boys Like Girls’ later pop-punk gem “The Great Escape,” “Ocean Avenue” is built on one of rock’s most reliably romantic images: running away with a vague lover from a dreary hometown into life’s endless possibilities. – Danielle Chelosky   Credit: Capitol   47. Future Islands – “Walking Through That Door”   This is Future Islands in the key of “I Want to Break Free.” Of all the underdog anthems the synth-pop trio churn out, this gem — from 2010’s overlooked In Evening Air — is their most pure. The beauty lies in Gerrit Welmers’ quivering keys, which sound like they landed on Earth from a ’50s sci-fi flick. They spiral higher and faster, as singer Samuel T. Herring absolves us of the shadows we cling to; all the lonely nights that “fall oh-so-slow.” “I want to be the one to help you find those dreams,” Herring sings, eerily calm, like a mountaintop shaman who’s become enlightened in the rugged terrain. “Walking Through That Door” has a mystical vibe that takes whatever’s in your heart and makes you believe in it harder. – Sarah Grant     46. Liz Phair – “Supernova”   Liz Phair is in devotion mode, packing more similes into one rock love song than an entire book of Shakespeare sonnets. “Your eyelashes sparkle like gilded grass,” she sings, “and your lips are sweet and slippery like a cherub’s bare, wet ass.” That’s just the first verse. “Supernova” was Phair’s rollicking first single from Whip-Smart, the follow-up to her murky masterpiece Exile in Guyville. With its trampolining guitars and Phair’s heart wide open, it signaled a whole new Liz dimension — her romantic period — where we could pour out our hearts with fists held high, shouting “and you fuck like a volcano, and you’re everything to me.” A declaration that would only occur to an ineffably cool 27-year-old in 1994. – S.G.   Credit: Matador / Atlantic   45. The Stranglers – “Golden Brown”   The stately, baroque-pop jangle of “Golden Brown” diverged from the English band’s core sound: prototypical pub-punkers stumbling into the electronics section of the local music store. The Stranglers slowly matured into the New Wave outfit of their pinnacle — but, in this case, take a deviant direction. A harpsichord plays the central melody as a luminous phased synth corresponds: dropping and rising in octaves, overall creating an enthralling quasi-waltz (with periodic bars in 7/8 time). It’s a ballad to his beatific (and lyrically ambiguous) “golden brown,” a finer temptress arranged in a seamless weaving of verse into bridge into the chorus — all executed in a timbre echoing John Lennon. Such a gorgeous song from a band with such a contrary name. – Logan Blake     44. Nine Inch Nails – “The Perfect Drug”   The doomed romance of Trent Reznor’s lyrics can often make love sound like a desperate chemical dependency — or make actual drug addiction sound like an irresistible seduction. “The Perfect Drug,” written for David Lynch’s 1997 film, Lost Highway, muddies the waters even more than usual, particularly with Mark Romanek’s absinthe-themed video. Reznor has performed the song live sparingly and reportedly admitted in 2005 that it “probably wouldn’t be in the top hundred” of the tracks he’s written. Still, it’s hard not to get caught up in the adrenaline rush of one of the fastest, most drum’n’bass-influenced songs in the Nine Inch Nails catalog. – Al Shipley   Credit: Nothing   43. Pulp – “Something Changed”   “Something Changed” is a prayer for those of us whose love language is canceling plans. Over rolling guitars and heavenly synths, Jarvis Cocker sings about the precious, random decisions that we make every day, having no idea of what’s at stake. “I could have stayed at home and gone to bed … you might have changed your mind and seen your friend.” In a Melody Maker interview, Cocker said that the song’s retrospective lyrics came from trying to remember why he wrote this song in the first place back in 1984 — years before releasing it as a single in 1996. Twenty-five years later, amid the doldrums of quarantine, “Something Changed” is like a redemption song for those of us who took the outside world for granted. As Jarve wisely said: “The worst thing about having a schedule and a timetable is that there’s less chance for unexpected things to happen.” – S.G.   Credit: Island   42. Buzzcocks – “Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve)”   If the answer to the question posed in the song title is “no,” check your pulse. You’re not alive. Or perhaps you’re extremely lucky. Just wait — as Robert Plant once sang, “Your Time Is Gonna Come.” The gist of the lyrics: “You spurn my natural emotions / You make me feel like dirt and I’m hurt” is as plainspoken as the song itself, written in 1978 by Buzzcocks’ Pete Shelley. Flaunting a perfect, dysfunctional lyrical kicker (“And if I start a commotion / I run the risk of losing you, and that’s worse”), “Ever Fallen in Love” becomes a hooky package of pop-punk energy and precise, pithy lyrics. This “pansexual punk anthem” (as one critic coined it) was the Buzzcocks’ biggest hit, and very rightly so. – Katherine Turman   Credit: United Artists   41. Morphine – “In Spite of Me”   Boston trio Morphine was known for the low, sonorous sounds of Mark Sandman’s two-string slide bass and Dana Colley’s baritone sax. But Sandman would occasionally throw in a spare acoustic track like “In Spite of Me,” the side one closer to their 1993 magnum opus, Cure For Pain, featuring beautifully fluttering mandolin by Jimmy Ryan. “In Spite of Me” is a bittersweet paean to someone who left the narrator behind long ago, but Sandman’s half-whispered vocal radiates with the fond memories of a shared history: “Last night I told a stranger all about you / They smiled patiently with disbelief.” – A.S.     40. The Breeders – “Do You Love Me Now”   “Does love ever end?” That’s the central question of “Do You Love Me Now,” Kim and Kelly Deal’s meditation on the often open-ended nature of past romance. Just when you think you’re finally over a relationship and have completely moved on, those familiar feelings slowly sidle back up to you like Josephine Wiggs’ slinking bass line. Pretty soon you might find yourself reaching for your phone, scrolling through photos and wondering what your old flame is doing right about now. If that happens, don’t worry — it’s perfectly natural. Here’s a helpful piece of advice from your friends at SPIN: Don’t text your ex. – John Paul Bullock     39. Pearl Jam – “Last Kiss”   By 1998, Pearl Jam had left radio behind. Sure, “Given to Fly” was a hit and Yield ended up one of their best albums, but the mainstream was mostly in the rearview mirror until this throwaway cover. During a Seattle show that May, Eddie Vedder told the crowd that he found an old single for $.99 the previous day and stayed up listening to it all night. Then the band debuted their take on “Last Kiss,” the Wayne Cochran ballad popularized by J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers in 1964. The song is so breezy and catchy, many fans are still oblivious to the sad lyrics, which chronicle a car accident that kills the narrator’s girlfriend (“Oh where, oh where can my baby be? / The Lord took her away from me”). Pearl Jam recorded a version during soundcheck before a Maryland gig, releasing it for Ten Club members. But that recording spread like wildfire and eventually peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard 200. Strangely, this left-field cover wound up the biggest hit of Pearl Jam’s career. – Daniel Kohn Credit: Epic   38. Bloc Party – “Blue Light”   “I still feel you in the taste of cigarettes,” sings Kele Okereke over divine splatters of guitar reverb and the heartbeat click-clack of a snare rim and kick drum. Bits of this person — seemingly a former lover — linger in the minute sensory details of everyday life. Reminders are everywhere: “You’ll find it hiding in shadows / You’ll find it hiding in cupboards.” The emotional centerpiece of Bloc Party’s debut LP, 2005’s Silent Alarm, “Blue Light” conjures the feeling of being fully adrift in sadness — you’ve become so accustomed to melancholy, it’s now your home. Just as Okereke croons about a mysterious “gentlest feeling,” the song ironically becomes un-gentle, guitars and drums spiraling upward into a sonic and emotional crescendo. – R.R.     37. Lifehouse – “Hanging By a Moment”   Lots of love songs have a spiritual component: Peter Gabriel was inspired to write “In Your Eyes” — perhaps the greatest slice of pop romance ever written, but not really “alt-rock” enough for this list — to reflect that common ambiguity in African music. With Lifehouse’s “Hanging By a Moment,” frontman Jason Wade landed at a similar duality. “I knew at the end of it that it was a love song, and I kind of come from that world, so it can be interpreted as a spiritual song or a love song,” he told Billboard in 2017. “I feel like people have just been taking it for whatever they want it to be through the years.” Both interpretations hold water: The narrator is “starving for truth,” perhaps in a religious sense. But on the chorus, they’re “standing here until you make me move” — an image that, coincidentally, calls to mind the “In Your Eyes” boombox scene from Say Anything. Either way, it’s a tearjerker. – R.R.   Credit: DreamWorks   36. Alabama Shakes – “Gimme All Your Love”   Lyrically, this one’s as cut and dried as it comes: Brittany Howard, the powerhouse singer of Alabama Shakes, wants the full relationship experience — no emotional shortcuts. “So much is going on / But you can always come around,” she sings gently, her voice somewhat muffled amid the glitchy drums and gleaming keys. “Why don’t you sit with me for just a little while? / Tell me, what’s wrong.” Then on the chorus, she sounds enraptured in contrast, screaming the titular phrase between some “woo”s that sound like a soulful Ric Flair. Is complete commitment so much to ask? – R.R.     35. A Flock of Seagulls – “Space Age Love Song”   New Wave music, particularly synthpop, tended to be lyrically cold, detached and unsentimental — more concerned with pessimism than romance. But “Space Age Love Song,” A Flock of Seagulls’ 1982 hit, is one of those unique exceptions. Amid Mike Score’s wistful singing and atmospheric synths and Paul Reynolds’ soaring guitar, the lyrics are direct and tender rather than aloof, accompanied by its recognizable melodic refrain: “I was falling in love.” In a 2018 PopMatters interview, Score said the song was about intimacy: “When you meet somebody there is an instant eye contact if the chemistry is right. If everything is right, you catch their eye…that whole ‘across the crowded room/caught your eye’ thing. The lyrics explain that: ‘I saw your eyes and you made me smile.'” Sci-fi and love never sounded so good together. – David Chiu   Credit: Jive   34. The Pretenders – “Talk of the Town”   “I had in mind this kid who used to stand outside the soundchecks on our first tour, and I never spoke to him,” Chrissie Hynde once recalled, detailing this Beatles-y New Wave anthem from 1980. “And I remember the last time I saw him, I just left him standing in the snow. I never had anything to say to him. And I kinda wrote this for him.” That backstory adds more intrigue to her already-fascinating lyrics, which seem to channel youthful longing for a person outside one’s grasp. “I watch you still from a distance then go / Back to my room,” she quivers over the bright guitar changes. “You never know I want you.” – R.R.     33. Incubus – “Dig”   Few alt-rock frontmen have embraced heartthrob status more naturally than Incubus singer Brandon Boyd, who helped transform the California nü-metal band into multi-platinum crossover stars with his washboard abs and a propensity to flirtatiously ad-lib the word “girl” like an R&B singer. But there’s always been a philosophical bent to Boyd’s most romantic songs, and “Dig,” as he explained in the band bio for 2006’s Light Grenades, “speaks to the importance of forgiveness and compassion.” But the song’s headier lyrics don’t get in the way of the lighter-waving catharsis of Boyd belting out, “We’ll always have each other when everything else is gone.” - A.S.     32. Beach House – “Lazuli”   If “Harvest Moon” had an alien twin from Baltimore, it might sound something like “Lazuli” — Beach House’s most romantic song, which highlights their 2012 album, Bloom. Alex Scally begins with a loping arpeggio and spray of synth as the story unfurls. “In the blue of this life, where it ends in the night / When you couldn’t see, you would come for me,” Victoria Legrand bellows, sounding warm, wise and oddly reminiscent of Nat King Cole. The lyrics float in and out of abstraction, like twisting a kaleidoscope. The synths form little ripples around her voice. In this vein, “Lazuli,” feels like an ode to communing with nature; a testament to every tiny particle that we can’t see. Who knows? Being in a perpetual state of wonder is the Beach House way, and it’s the true magic of this song. As Legrand reminds us in her dreamy warble, “you can’t be replaced.” – S.G.     31. Weezer – “Perfect Situation”   From the dramatic intro — which this Fearless-era Taylor Swift song oddly resembles — it’s clear what this one is about. Then again, it’s usually what Weezer songs are about: desperation, longing, love gone wrong. “Perfect Situation,” though, is less lyrically specific than many of the band’s tracks — they keep the words simple and carefully chosen here, with Rivers Cuomo just enunciating “Singing oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh” on the chorus. The instruments do most of the talking, and the most Cuomo reveals is on the kind-of-hot lines: “Get your hands off the girl / Can’t you see that she belongs to me?” – Danielle Chelosky     30. The Temper Trap – “Sweet Disposition”   First off, who gives a fuck that the echoing guitar sounds like the Edge’s best unused riff? And so what if the song itself is still a go-to for dumb TV ads and rom-coms? It’s easy to poke fun at this Australian quartet because they unashamedly swing for a grand slam with almost every at-bat, but “Sweet Disposition” is the kind of heart-tugging big-chorus rock song only the most jaded among us can brush aside. Part of it’s the expressive delivery of frontman Dougy Mandagi, who wrangles maximum earnestness from each falsetto swoop and hint of vibrato. And the words are perfectly bare and unpretentious. “Just stay there / ‘Cause I’ll be coming over,” he sings. “While our blood’s still young / It’s so young, it runs / Won’t stop ’til it’s over.” – R.R.   Credit: TIME   29. Band of Horses – “No One’s Gonna Love You”   Few “love songs” open with the image of a mutilated body part: “It’s looking like a limb torn off / Or altogether just taken apart,” Ben Bridwell yelps over rippling electric guitars. “No One’s Gonna Love You” feels romantic — the atmospheric arrangement, the pained way Bridwell sings throughout. And certain lyrics, like the titular phrase, sound deceptively sweet. But this one’s complicated: The narrator seems to be still helplessly in love (“And anything to make you smile”), even with the relationship “tumbling” through an “endless fall.” Play this one for your “first dance” wedding song and scan the crowd for puzzled faces. – R.R.   Credit: Sub Pop   28. The White Stripes – “I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself”   Can we trust a love-lost song from a man who pretended his one-time wife was his sister? Why is said sister-wife, Meg White, crying on the cover of 2003’s Elephant? And why is Kate Moss pole-dancing in the video? No matter the answer to these rhetorical questions, ”I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself” is a great song, and as sung by Jack White, the definitive version. (It was written by Burt Bacharach and lyricist Hal David — and previously, most notably covered by Dusty Springfield, Dionne Warwick and Issac Hayes, who drew it out to seven minutes.) White’s spare, angsty voice and guitar reflects the song’s desperate, edgy feeling of painful limbo as two are wrenched into one lonely leftover. The tune was written in 1962, but it’s still timeless — and especially gut-wrenching when White delivers it with all the (hurt) feels. – K.T.   Credit: XL   27. My Morning Jacket – “Steam Engine”   Jim James digs deeper than superficial attraction on this dreamy, seven-minute ballad from It Still Moves. “So I do believe / None of this is physical / At least not to me,” he sings, his voice bathed in barn reverb. He is human, admitting later on, “Your skin looks good in moonlight.” But like the band’s slow-building sway, his definition of love is still admirably cosmic. “It’s about falling in love with someone because of the way they make you feel, as opposed to them wearing tight jeans and being hot,” he told Nude as the News in 2003. “I’m just trying to escape from the fuckin’ constant, physically driven fashion show that the world has become.” – R.R.     26. R.E.M. – “At My Most Beautiful”   Gently affectionate, direct and indelible, the standout third single from R.E.M.’s first post-Bill Berry LP revels in romantic mundanity. A sigh calibrated to elicit endless sighs, “At My Most Beautiful” adopts orchestral-era Beach Boys as its guiding muse, with guitar, piano, organ and cello forming a warm, pastel whorl. The sincere tenderness in Michael Stipe’s vocal scribbles extra feelings between the lines of his actual lyrics, which adore but stop short of the saccharine. “You always say your name,” he purrs, “Like I wouldn’t know it’s you, at your most beautiful.” – R.C.   Credit: Warner Bros.   25. Siouxsie & the Banshees – “The Last Beat of My Heart”   Siouxsie Sioux sings nature metaphors (“In the sharp gust of love, my memory stirred / When time wreathed a rose, a garland of shame”) over a slow-climbing swell of accordion and muted tom-tom thump. A perfect marriage of words and atmosphere, each drawing out romance from the other. “It’s one of my favorite Siouxsie and the Banshees songs, and [DeVotchKa] covered it very well,” the Decemberists’ Colin Meloy told Pitchfork in 2006.”It kind of bums me out that they got to that cover before I did. Very smart choice.” – R.R.   Credit: Wonderland / Polydor   24. Blink-182 – “All the Small Things”   For Valentine’s Day 2000, there had to be at least one guy in a Hurley T-shirt and Dickies who wrote this in a card to his high school girlfriend, thinking it was so sick: “Keep your lips still, I’ll be your thrill, the night will go on, my little windmill.” Blink’s biggest hit has its goofy, sappy moments: “She left me roses by the stairs, surprises let me know she cares.” But there’s some uncertainty there too: Tom DeLonge knows this girl will be at his show, watching and waiting, but also…commiserating. Did she feel pity for him? Maybe we shouldn’t think too much about “All The Small Things,” considering DeLonge wrote it specifically to be played on the radio, with all those Ramones-y “na-na-na’s” filled in so he wouldn’t need to write more lyrics. – Bobby Olivier   Credit: MCA   23. Arcade Fire – “Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)”   Here’s something I’ve never understood: So…Win Butler is singing about digging a tunnel between his and his lover’s homes — underground romance, adorable — but then he wails, “You climb out of the chimney and meet me in the middle, the middle of the town.” Why dig the fucking tunnel when she’s just gonna use the chimney to meet up? And another thing! When he sings, “Then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow” — couldn’t they have sought shelter in the tunnel during inclement weather? Listen, I know it’s the band’s debut single and revered as one of the greatest indie-rock songs of the last 20 years, blah blah. It’s a sweeping, bouncy tune, sure, but I need answers, damn it! – B.O.     22. Smashing Pumpkins – “Luna”   In the liner notes of the 2011 Siamese Dream reissue, Billy Corgan writes that this blissful dream-pop ballad chronicles his love for “someone [who] doesn’t love me.” He doesn’t directly specify this person, but he did famously date Courtney Love, who once claimed that almost all of the album was written about her. We’re not going to draw any conclusions. “I sing a love song in an empty room,” Corgan continued, detailing how he wrote the tune. “It is for the moon. It can never be for the one you love.” Regardless, “love song for the moon” just sounds cooler. – R.R.     21. Mazzy Star – “Fade Into You”   During the mid-’90s alt boom, a bunch of bands on the peripheral had their moments of mainstream success. Mazzy Star’s biggest song, the moody and melodic “Fade Into You,” blends dream-pop and alt-country twang, led by Hope Sandoval’s luscious vocals. The singer’s lyrics, a touchstone of peak Gen X, seem to document a relationship with a narcissistic person who can’t be reached. And that dichotomy between romantic longing and melancholy is what makes “Fade Into You” so relatable. – D.K.   Credit: Capitol   20. The Cardigans – “Lovefool”   You likely know the hook by heart from incessant radio airplay. Released in the mid-’90s, it’s one of those songs that summons its zeitgeist, and it’s since remained one of the most timeless (and bittersweet) pop-rock palliatives. Lead singer Nina Persson both coquettishly and wistfully begs for her love to be requited. It’s all voluptuous rouge lips and batting cat eyes, soft around the edges with sharp guitar chops and velvety synth concords. It’s the marriage of a cold, haphazard lament in a catchy pop structure with a New Wave undercurrent all held together in kitschy saturation. Nothing comes closer to the platonic ideal of pop. – L.B.   Credit: Stockholm   19. Jeff Buckley – “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over”   “Maybe I’m too young to keep good love from going wrong,” Jeff Buckley sings with understated drama on the first verse of “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over,” before patiently building to a climactic falsetto showcase. Buckley wrote the smoldering, seven-minute ballad after the end of his relationship with musician Rebecca Moore, and he opens the epic version on his only proper studio album, 1994’s Grace, with a gorgeous harmonium instrumental that sounds like an otherworldly funeral organ. It became the most widely covered song Buckley wrote in his brief career, but nobody can possibly sing it like him. – A.S.     18. Elliott Smith – “Say Yes”   Smith clears his throat and begins the acoustic-strummed ballad to a girl who made his world a vicarious idyll, the one “who’s still around the morning after.” An electric guitar glitters the track with sprightly, jazzy chords, letting out a melodic melancholy solo and syncing with Smith’s sotto voce singing as he sulks over their month-ago breakup. Now he longs for her to come back, optimistically musing that maybe he’d be “an exception to the rule.” Smith once told SPIN he penned the offhandedly beautiful song in five minutes while watching a muted episode of Xena: Warrior Princess. Whether a moving palliative for others mourning a love lost too soon or a heartrending tale of post-breakup realism, it utterly impales you. – L.B.     17. Roxy Music – “Avalon”   Across eight albums in 10 years, Roxy Music evolved from an avant-garde glam-rock band to a sophisticated pop group. Avalon, the group’s swan song, was their most commercially successful record and indelibly romantic. Along with “More Than This,” the album’s title song — with its tropical and reggae-like rhythms — has become one of Roxy’s most popular songs.  Its lyrics evoke the magic of love at first sight: “When you bossa nova, there’s no holding / But you have me dancing, out of nowhere.” Ferry’s debonair crooning is seductive and sincere, complemented by backing vocalist Yanick Étienne. The “Avalon” video is equally elegant, with a white tuxedo-clad Ferry dancing with his paramour. Almost 40 years later, this song — like the whole Avalon album — remains one of the definitive Valentine’s Day soundtracks. – David Chiu   Credit: EG / Polydor   16. Tegan and Sara – “Nineteen”   Some of the best rock tunes swim simultaneously in streams of “love song” and “breakup song,” welling up your eyes until everything blurs. “Nineteen,” a devastating anthem from Tegan and Sara’s fifth LP, The Con, is one such moment — entangling sex, heartbreak, romance and butterflies-in-your-gut angst into a compact, three-minute blast. It opens with a jarring admission: “I felt you in my legs before I even met you / And when I laid beside you for the first time, I told you / I feel you in my heart.” We don’t get all the details, but the relationship quickly sours, resulting in a bummed-out plane trip home — but also glimmers of hope. “I was 19,” the duo sing over the distorted downstroke riffs. “Call me.” – R.R.     15. Paramore – “Still Into You”   A power-pop ode to everlasting love, “Still Into You” should surge in popularity around 2063 by soundtracking all those scene kids’ 50th wedding anniversary parties. In terms of Paramore lore (Para-lore?), “Still Into You” introduced the band’s departure from pure pop-punk — more charm, less angst. Written about Hayley Williams’ then-solid relationship with New Found Glory guitarist Chad Gilbert, it offers some great lines about making love work: “It’s not a walk in the park to love each other / But when our fingers interlock, can’t deny, can’t deny, you’re worth it.” And it’s such a sweet sentiment, reminding your S.O. that after all their bullshit and the stupid Netflix shows they make you watch, you’re still into them. Unfortunately for Williams, “still” didn’t mean forever — she and Gilbert split in 2017. – B.O.   Credit: Fueled By Ramen 14. Stone Temple Pilots – “Interstate Love Song”   Only Stone Temple Pilots could write a “love song” that explores lying about heroin use. In his 2011 memoir, Not Dead & Not For Sale, Scott Weiland said he wrote “Interstate Love Song” partly from the perspective of his girlfriend: “She’d ask how I was doing, and I’d lie, say I was doing fine. Chances are I had just fixed before calling her. I imagined what was going through her mind…” But there’s poetry in these dark images, as Weiland taps into relationship matters of trust and deception. The music only amplifies the song’s windows-down grandeur, from Weiland’s booming vocals to Dean DeLeo’s signature, twangy guitar riff. It remains STP’s finest hour. – D.K. and R.R.   Credit: Atlantic 13. Patti Smith Group – “Because the Night”   A highlight from her 1978 LP, Easter, “Because the Night” has become the punk poet laureate’s most well-known track — and also one of the most recognizable love songs of all time. After modest piano notes form a calm before the storm, Patti Smith bursts into her signature mode of elated, operatic singing — roleplaying the besotted lover in this impassioned hit co-written by Bruce Springsteen. Although the vocal delivery propels the song beyond itself, the lyrics detail the wanton desire just before the flight of the erotic at sundown “…because the night belongs to lovers.” Unlike most other subtler love songs, this is an unabashed entreaty. No more foreplay. On second thought, it’d be more apt to call it a “lust song.” – L.B.   Credit: Arista   12. Coldplay – “Yellow”   Who would have thought that a poor Neil Young imitation would spark Coldplay’s breakthrough hit? That’s what happened with their signature tune, “Yellow,” which focuses on an emotional devotion to…someone or something. Singer Chris Martin found the initial chords and lyrics during a live soundcheck, and he immediately started channeling the Godfather of Grunge with the lyric “look at the stars.” Then came the title word, which gives the song a slight element of mystery: “The word ‘yellow’ came out, and I was like, ‘No one’s gonna know what that means,’” he told Howard Stern in 2011. “It was a feeling more than a meaning.” But that feeling led to an entire career. – D.K. and R.R.   Credit: Parlophone 11. Say Anything – “Alive With the Glory of Love”   You can’t leave out “Alive” from any conversation about essential emo love songs. What opening lines are more gripping than “When I watch you, want to do you, right where you’re standing, yeah”? Then the chorus is irresistibly endearing and seemingly sincere: “No, I won’t let them take you / Won’t let them take you / Hell no, no!” Even if you start out listening as a joke, you gradually fall into its surprisingly romantic arms. But the song reveals a deeper meaning as it plays: The line “Should they catch us and dispatch us those separate work camps, yeah,” reminds us that “Love” is based on the story of Max Bemis’ grandparents, who are Holocaust survivors. So yeah…there’s a lot to unpack. – Danielle Chelosky   Credit: J Records / Red Ink 10. Radiohead – “All I Need”   “I’m an animal trapped in your hot car,” Thom Yorke croons during this divine meditation on romantic fixation. Aw, how sweet! Radiohead never write conventional love songs — but when they do explore the subject, few do so with such intensity. “All I Need” spends most of its run time at a low simmer, Yorke spitting out similar images (“I am a moth who just wants to share your light”) over Phil Selway’s trip-hop-y drum groove and a booming synth-bass. But the song’s climax, lyrically and musically, crashes in at full volume: “It’s all wrong!” Yorke yelps. “It’s all right!” – R.R.     9. Talking Heads – “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)”   David Byrne famously wrote a lot of songs about “buildings and food,” so his first real “love song” doesn’t, um, sound a lot like the others. “I try to write about small things: paper, animals, a house,” he noted in the Stop Making Sense bonus interview. “Love is kinda big. I have written a love song, though. In this film, I sing it to a lamp.” That song is “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody),” on which Byrne embraces romantic matters with surreal wordplay and, seemingly, confusion. “I guess I must be having fun,” he sings over the clanging percussion and woozy synths. But few songwriters tackle love with such zen, understanding that relationships are living organisms. “The less we say about it the better,” he yelps. “Make it up as we go along.” – R.R.   Credit: Sire 8. The Cure – “Friday I’m in Love”   Robert Smith doesn’t exactly do warm and fuzzy in his lyrics, and that’s exactly why “Friday I’m in Love” is one of the Cure’s signature hits. The song’s peppy, melodic jangle perfectly matches Smith’s innocent words about falling in love — he told this very publication that it’s a “dumb pop song” and “very optimistic and really out there in happy land.” Discounting Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, the song also captures the wide-eyed joy of that Friday feeling, with the possibilities of the weekend ahead. “Friday I’m in Love” ended up being the Cure’s last Top 40 hit — what a way to go off the charts swinging. – D.K.   Credit: Fiction 7. Joy Division – “Love Will Tear Us Apart”   The intro is a tease, seemingly previewing a forgettable song. Then it debouches into one of the most iconic, nostalgic riffs ever architected, launching an ‘80s anthem from year zero of that halcyon decade. Weirdly, it’s the most identifiable (yet least representative) of an eerie discography mostly inaccessible to casual listeners — and not only instrumentally. The post-punk dignitaries conjured a dark sound around themes of mental illness and hopelessness. And they didn’t totally sacrifice that dark aura in “Love Will Tear Us Apart” — it just underwent aesthetic osmosis. They saw the thorns of the rose, where the rest saw only the bud. – L.B.   Credit: Factory   6. Tears for Fears – “Head Over Heels”   Before their breakthrough LP, Songs From the Big Chair, Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith weren’t known for love — let alone happy — songs. Their debut, 1983’s The Hurting, was an emotionally turbulent record inspired by the work of American psychologist Arthur Janov. The mood lightened up somewhat on Songs From the Big Chair, especially with the majestic “Head Over Heels,” distinguished for its relatively upbeat lyrics and ecstatic Beatles-like “la-la-la-la-la” chorus towards the end. Adding to the romantic atmosphere is a humorous music video that depicts Orzabal trying to catch the eye of a bookish librarian. “Head Over Heels” is probably the closest we’ll ever get to a love song,” Orzabal remarked for the 2014 Big Chair reissue. “It’s a love song that kind of goes a bit perverse at the end.” – David Chiu   Credit: Mercury 5. Oasis – “Wonderwall”   The Gallagher brothers tug at our heartstrings with their signature hit “Wonderwall” — even as we question what they’re actually singing about. Most fans can belt all the words, starting with the opening lines: “Today is gonna be the day that they’re gonna throw it back to you / By now you should’ve somehow realized what you gotta do / I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.” But we don’t hear that mysterious titular word until the fourth stanza. So what exactly is a wonderwall? In 1996, Noel Gallagher reportedly told NME he wrote the song for his then-girlfriend, Meg Matthews. Six years later he switched gears, telling the BBC, “The meaning of that song was taken away from me by the media who jumped on it, and how do you tell your Mrs. it’s not about her once she’s read it is?” Sooooo… “It’s a song about an imaginary friend who’s gonna come and save you from yourself,” he explained. Your wonderwall can be whatever you want it to mean, for whomever you love. Just hope the recipient understands your word choice. – Jason Stahl   Credit: Creation   4. Foo Fighters – “Everlong”   That initial rush of romantic ecstasy never lasts as long as we want it to. The strongest relationships persist in spite of this. On 1997’s “Everlong,” Foo Fighters frontman Dave Grohl can’t live in the magic moment. The future hasn’t even happened yet, and already, it’s haunting him: “And I wonder / When I sing along with you / If everything could ever feel this real forever / If anything could ever be this real again?” By the time of The Colour and the Shape, he was rocking with a band instead of accompanying himself in studio pastiche — and “Everlong” reflects that energy, a ballad-qua-anthem where the sting of recent divorce is flipped into innocent, emotional longing. – R.C.   Credit: Roswell / Capitol   3. The Flaming Lips – “Do You Realize??”   “Whenever I analyze the scientific realities of what it means to be living here on Earth — in this galaxy … spinning around the sun … flying through space — a terror shock seizes me!!!” Wayne Coyne once wrote of the Flaming Lips’ symphonic-sized staple. “I’m reminded once again of how precarious our whole existence is…” Existential dread is an…unusual…starting point for a “love song.” And you might argue that “Do You Realize??”, the centerpiece from 2002’s Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, falls outside even the vast umbrella of our list. The harsh realization here, after all, is that “everyone you know some day will die.” But there’s hope in that epiphany! As Coyne tells us, every glimpse of death is a reminder to live: “Instead of saying all of your goodbyes,” he sings over Steven Drozd’s cartoonishly massive arrangement, “Let them know you realize that life goes fast / It’s hard to make the good things last.” Really, “Do You Realize??” is a love song to the entire universe. – R.R.   Credit: Warner 2. The Smiths – “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out”   The Smiths’ “angry young man” anthem perfectly captures the confusion and drama of teenage lust: Johnny Marr’s timeless, jangling guitar has given rise to countless solemn YouTube covers. Morrissey’s hyper-literate lyrics were influenced by Karel Reisz’s 1960 film, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, written by Alan Sillitoe, whose short story “The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner” inspired everyone from Iron Maiden to Belle & Sebastian. “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out” makes an excellent choice for any road trip playlist — just watch out for those double-decker buses. – J.P.B.   Credit: Rough Trade / Virgin 1. Yeah Yeah Yeahs – “Maps”   “Wait, they don’t love you like I love you” is such a perfect line, especially from one fawned-over musician to another — in this case, Karen O to Liars frontman and then-boyfriend Angus Andrew. Bittersweet desperation runs throughout the beloved track, as Karen O tries to play it cool, keeping her voice to a measured warble, even though she’s essentially begging her partner to return her affection. “My kind’s your kind,” she sings, another heartrending dagger-like “Dude, I see you! See me, too!” Almost 20 years later, this song resonates even more thanks to numerous covers and interpolations, most notably Beyonce using the hook for her Lemonade cut “Hold Up” in 2016. If Beyonce samples you, you’re doing something right. – B.O.   Credit: Polydor   Listen to all of the songs below:   #Oasis #TheFlamingLips #TheBreeders #TheCardigans #Weezer
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