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chanluster · 4 years ago

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the duke and i | m ; f

“The Duke of Hastings can show you much more than what you write of.”

oneshot | bridgerton! au | f2l! au | 32.3k words

s u m m a r y >> wishing to be a successful writer in the regency period seemed next to impossible for the sole daughter of a dead earl. with arising pressures from your mother to tie the knot, you turn to your dearest friend, hwang hyunjin, duke of hastings and the most eligible, scandalous bachelor of the season, for assistance. when he suggests the insane of idea of marrying each other to help each other, you agree to the proposal, unaware of how much the duke can teach you of the wonders of matrimony.

w a r n i n g s >> noble! reader, duke! hyunjin, hyunjin is a fucking rake, reader is a fucking nerd, also really really innocent, hyunjin is sosososo hot, a lot of teasing, foul language too, endearments, sexual tension, kissing, making out, corruption kink!!!!! corruption! fucking! kink! oral (f. receiving) fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe hoemies!!) orgasming on multiple occasions, there is fluff i promise, yes there is angst, also seungmin cameo of him being a drunk fool, and slight references to regency poets and writers here and there

p l a y l i s t >> here!

t a g l i s t >> @fivefootfuryanon @h0eforhyunjin16 @seoulicitae @linoscult @aliceu @hwangi @shipsaremything98 @babyyynatty @kabira @danyxthirstae01 @sunseokkies @lunefilm @severetimetravelnerd @minaamhh @starry--koo @ninjaleeknow @hyunjeonnies @inlovewithasa @titleisyettobemade @maedesculpaeusoubi @fleeingreality @healinghyunjin

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e >> help i am back from the dead to finally give you bridgerton! hyunjin!! big apologies for taking so long, and i hope you enjoy this whopper :’) thank you for the constant support, and hope you won’t miss me too much while i’m gone ;)

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YOU TURNED THE PAGE OF YOUR BOOK AS YOUR MOTHER REPEATED THE RULES FOR THE TWENTIETH TIME THAT EVENING.

“And remember,” she droned on, voice barely audible from the din of the carriage ricketing across the cobblestone. “You must dance with as many dukes you can get your hands on. Especially those worth over 10,000 a year!”

“As you say, Mama,” you got out, not particularly focusing on her orders, but the characters in your novel, bickering sweetly with each other. You smiled at the heated conversation, marvelling at how the two people did not realise their undying love for each other.

Unfortunately, your mother caught the slight happiness on your face, and simply had to stample it. “Are you even listening to me, child?”

You hummed out a cryptic answer, but that was not enough. “Stop reading that rubbish, ____!” she ordered, trying to seize it from your hands, but you were too quick, keeping it out of her range. “You have a bigger issue at hand here!”

“Leave me be,” you murmured, hugging the novel to your chest, unable to feel its leather due to your long gloves enveloping your fingers.

Of course you knew of the ‘bigger issue’ she would not ever stop speaking of. It was another matter entirely that you did not care for it.

“____, listen to me.”

Groaning, you directed your gaze towards your mother, who looked regal in a light golden gown, shawl enveloping her shoulders. “I know you would much rather have your nose stuck in those silly little novels of yours all day, God knows why.” She brought a hand out, planting it on the silk of your lap. “But that may have been excusable before.”

You understood where she was going with this conversation.

Your father is dead now.

Pursing your lips, you looked out to the tiny window, exposing the other carriages closing up to the huge pathway of the Buckingham estate. The clattering of horseshoes upon the gravel entered your ears, but still could not blank out the information that lingered.

There is no hope for single women in search of a career. Especially if they have no fathers or brothers.

As your own vehicle came to a rest, behind the dozens of others, you held onto your book, a footman opening the door and holding his hand out to your mother. She taking it, you followed suit, dusting away at the dress and tilting your head upwards at the destination.

The Duke of Buckinghamshire could rival the queen herself with his estate — the faded, grey-red brick was alight, orchestral music tuning outside and seducing the guests to enter. Hundreds of windows plastered on the towering walls gave a glimpse of the chaos residing inside, a few couples leaning a little too close behind fans on the sill and men screaming over card game losses. A flourish of men and women adorned in their finest attire rushed to the entrance, the gigantic double doors of the manor welcomed every guest, and you stayed close with your mother as the two of you made your way up the steps, and into the estate.

The interior was even more marvellous — golden chandeliers dangled from the vast, painted ceiling, like glittering diamonds as it shed light on the hallway, servants ready to take any apparel and lead the way to the ballroom. Marble floors glistened as your eyes skimmed over the crowd, looking for a specific person among the riches.

Your mother, finding the host of this ball, patted your shoulder as she began to hurry into the main hall. “Come, my child,” she said as she tugged you along, “I shall reacquaint you with Her Grace.”

Before you could object, the woman rushed into the ballroom, the music louder as the orchestra resided right at the end of the hall, playing its sultry tune to the dancers emerging in the centre. You wished to study the place further, but were turned to face a large duchess of overwhelming dress, red skirts flowing and feathers of the same colour jutting out from her updo.

“Ah, Lady ____!” the Duchess of Buckingham greeted with a shark’s smile. “Lovely to see you back in society. So soon, might I add.”

You had a right mind to say that it was against your wishes, but your mother chipped in, “You know how it is, Your Grace. When one has an unmarried daughter one can only stay in society until that is undone.”

“Rightly so.” the Duchess brought her fan to her chin, studying you thoroughly. “My sweet, you are a pretty girl.” Her eyes landed on the book you held. “But bringing a novel into a ballroom? Do you not wish to socialise at all?”

“Perhaps not tonight,” you said with as much disappointment as you could muster. “The Dashwood sisters will entertain me well enough.”

The Duchess could not respond as you bowed lightly and left your mother’s side, rushing past the other men and women of titles before they could converse with you. Your eyes skimmed the crowd, in search of a particular man, but the amount of guests made it incredibly difficult.

The dancing continued on, laughter ringing throughout the hall as you secluded yourself in a corner, next to the refreshments. The wondrous scent of cakes, pastries and other deserts seduced your senses, but you restrained your temptations as you sat upon an ornate chair placed beside the tables of food.

An unfamiliar lord, as if waiting for you to be at peace, walked over to your side, and you had to contain your disdain as you instantly deduced the motivations behind his coming over.

Reaching out his gloved hand to you, he asked the most irritable question.

“May I have the first dance with you, my lady?”

Brilliant. You looked up at him, plastering a tight smile upon your face. “I deeply apologise, sir,” you began, opening your book. “I am afraid my firsts are promised to another.”

Confused, he tried again. “How about the next dance, then?”

Why was he being so persistent? “I shall see,” you replied, not outright rejecting him, but hoping that he understood the implications behind your lack of acceptance.

Beyond puzzled, he hesitantly dipped his head in adieu, wondering at his rejection as he thankfully left you alone.

It was not like you were lying to him — your firsts for everything had been promised to another man. You were just fortunate enough to use that to your advantage.

Glancing over the crowd one last time in search of that particular man, you dove into the novel, hoping he stayed lost in the crowd for the night.

A sad smile exposed itself on your face.

The thought of Jane Austen gaining little acclaim for the writings in your hands crushed you. Maybe that contributed to her publishing anonymously, but still — everyone knew she was the lady behind your favourite works.

In general, there was simply no other form of joy for you other than reading the works of women. The soul of your gender had only ever been captured by the writings created by ladies of your age and mentality. It almost felt like you possessed a personal connection with them when you read these novels; It felt like that Austen understood you on an emotional level, a degree not many people could comprehend.

You dearly wished you could write such flawless books yourself.

A slight frown enveloped your lips.

As if your mother would let you. Or any man she marries you off to.

Progressing further into the novel, you became so engrossed that you did not notice another man walking to where you were isolated, the soft leather boots near silent on the marble floor. You wished you had perked up at his presence, but you did not realise him there until he got hold of your book.

And snatched it right out of your hands.

A gasp escaped you, features twisting into anger as your eyes followed the origins of such fingers, closing your novel with a snap!

“Of course I see you engrossed in a book rather than in another man’s arms.”

The roll of your eyes was inevitable.

Because before you was the Duke of Hastings, smiling like a pirate finding long-lost treasure.

Your answering grin was more a flash of teeth. “No man is ever as interesting as a good book.”

Clicking his tongue, he plucked a flute of champagne from the table next to you. In truth, Hwang Hyunjin, unfortunately, was one of the most fascinating men you had ever encountered. The greatest giveaway was his appearance — the lean, delicate figure, elevated by his gorgeous features. His eyes, the colour of bitter coffee, shone with mischief as the glass settled on his plush lips, tilting his head back so his lustrous golden curls fell from his shoulders.

His hair alone sent a shockwave through the city. The gentlemen in society spent their time in the barbers’ salons after his new appearance at Lord Lee’s spring ball, and although they aspired, they simply could not compete.

Your best friend was a sacred image no being could ever attempt to replicate.

Releasing a dreamy sigh, he propped the empty flute back on the table, dusting away at his cream-coloured tailcoat. The trousers of the same colour hugged his legs perfectly, tightening at his thighs. “Now, ____,” he began, holding out his free hand before you. “It is time for a human being to entertain you.”

You raised your chin in challenge. “And what if I were to say no?”

The scoff that escaped his lips dared you to try.

“You cannot escape me, angel. Alas, you have promised your firsts to me.”

Grimacing at the truth, you eyed the object he had seized from you, crossing your arms. “What about my novel?” you asked. “I cannot let you discard it in any old place.”

“How about this?” He took a step closer to you. “I will keep hold of it as we dance.”

“And how will you do that, blondie?”

The man narrowed his gaze at the term — a nickname you had established the moment he had revealed his golden locks to you, to his utter dismay. “Well, darling,” he mused, the hand hovering closer, “You are going to have to accept me first.”

First. Always him as your first.

Of course, you were never the one to refuse the Rake of London.

So, making sure you exaggerated as much disdain as you could, you grabbed onto his hand, feeling the determined tug of his hold as he led you to the dance floor. Finding a fairly empty spot among the dozens of other couples, he fully interlocked your fingers with his, snaking the book-held hand around your waist. Feeling the hard leather on your back, you let out a hum of approval as you propped your free hand on his shoulder.

“If you dare drop the book, Hyunjin,” you warned, digging your gloves further into the fabric. “I will tread on your boots.”

His answer was patting your prized possession behind your book. “You worry as if you don’t tread on them anyway.”

As the orchestra began, so did his feet, commencing the dance.

You saw his eyes wander, pausing at a particular image which made him smirk knowingly at you. “I think you should be worrying more about your mother.”

Fearful, you followed his line of sight. There she was, talking to the other countesses with smiles and frivolous laughter as she pointed to your general direction. Their sons pursued her finger, and as they caught sight of you, you gulped. A small chuckle huffed out of your partner. “I think I might see you engaged at the end of the evening.”

“Do not even utter such words!” you exclaimed. “I will either die a successful writer or die a spinster.”

“You do know you can be an author while you are married,” Hyunjin pointed out, turning you about the room.

Shaking your head at his statement, you countered, “That could not be further from the truth! Do you remember Lady Andrews?” An absent-minded shrug was his answer. “Well, she lives up north now, but she once confided to me that she wished to be a painter. Guess what happened to her?”

“I assume this is the part where you attack marriage.”

“Yes! Because her life was ruined after she was wedded to some wretched old viscount!” You shuddered depicting the details. “In the last letters she wrote to me, she spoke of her easels and paints being taken away from her. God, it enraged me when she begged the heavens for any kind of assistance to be rid of the man, but after she became with child, there was no escape.”

Sensing your fingers clenching onto him tighter, the duke instinctively patted the small of your back with your book. “I cannot risk such chains, Hyunjin,” you guttered. “I may not have much freedom now, but it is still better than none.”

Allowing yourself to be twirled by your friend, he brought you back into his arms. His silence, although heavy, was temporary, as his eyes settled on you. “Not every man wants to imprison their wife, ____.”

You did not bother remarking on the statement. “What about your own marital status?” you asked, changing the subject slightly. “Have you not found yourself a nice girl from the many you speak to?”

Hyunjin scoffed. “Speak to,” he parroted softly, as if in disbelief. “The ladies that I...merely speak to...their families are a nightmare.” The repetition confused you, but you persisted until he pressed his lips in an unamused line. “I just...do not want to marry these women. I do not feel any sort of affection for them.”

After a moment of quiet, you let out a huff of laughter. “Look at us, blondie.” You gestured to the crowds around the two of you, the chaos of it all. “Both of us are plagued by pressures of matrimony.”

The music began its path to the crescendo, instruments sounding louder with every second your feet moved in tune to your friend’s. “It seems the value our freedoms too much to sacrifice it forever.”

He did not respond, eyes lost beyond you and the entire ball. His fingers upon yours tightened slightly, feeling the drum of his hands reverberating upon the book latched on your back. You cocked your head slightly, studying his faraway expression, wondering what matter had gained his interest so deeply. It was not an easy feat to gain Hyunjin’s attention.

As the violins sang out higher, the man’s grip on you loosened, almost as he became transported in his mind, losing all grasp on the reality he shared with you. Only when you smacked him lightly on the shoulder did he blink back, staring at you with mild irritation. “Hello?” you said, waving your gloved hand over his face. “Earth to Hyunjin?”

“Ah, um...sorry, angel,” he muttered, looking away as he picked up the pace of the dance once more. “I was just thinking.”

“Of what?” you asked, and when you caught the hesitancy in his gaze you groaned at him. “Oh, do not tell me you are thinking of some poor lady once again!”

“No!” he began, but then he frowned, shaking his head. “Well, yes, I...I suppose I was thinking of a certain lady.”

You grinned. “God help her, then.”

There was another moment of quiet among the buzz of the ball when he spoke again. “____.”

Your stare remained on his face. “Yes?”

As you kept watching him, you witnessed a slight blush arise on his cheeks. “So, um...as you said, correctly, that we both highly value our freedom…”

Not quite understanding, you drawed, “Yes?”

“And of course, you know how we are the best of friends,” he carried on, eyes boring into you, as if you were some child who needed extra explanation. “You know, how everything I would ask of you would be in our best interests.”

A raised brow was your response to his rambling. “Hyunjin…what is the matter?”

He stopped, realising he could not meander any further. Sharp sigh escaping, he proposed a plan which had been haunting his mind since the dance.

“I think you should marry me, angel.”

The words caused you to still completely. Not a very wise decision, considering the dance was still in motion, resulting in Hyunjin stumbling forward into you. His tugging hands had you continuing, albeit with much more shock.

“What…” your insides threatened to retch out of your mouth. “What did you just say?”

“No, no, listen to me for a moment!” He clamped his lips together, searching for the right words to argue his point with. “Now I know marriage is something you have disliked—”

“Dislike?” A scoff. “I think you mean absolutely detest!” You saw him almost flinch at your snarl. “How dare you even suggest such a thing to me?!”

“I know, damn it!” he exclaimed, discomfort clear in his voice. “But if you would hear me out!”

“And what is this plan you speak of, Hyunjin?” you seethed, suddenly tempted to ram your heeled slipper into his boot.

The man looked much in need of escape from this situation, but he merely twirled you about once more, the climax of the music about to begin. “I am very aware of your hatred against matrimony, and believe me when I say that I share in your disdain. Have I not complained of the very ceremony when mothers from every corner of London came to insist for their daughters’ hands?

Grumbling, you nodded. “Exactly, so obviously I must have a good reason why I spoke of this matter.”

“Well, spit it out, then!” you snapped. “It already sounds outrageous.”

With the instruments chanting louder, he commenced. “We both have a dilemma with marriage, especially concerning the burden. Your biggest problem is the freedom being taken from you. Mine is having to live with a woman I have no feelings towards.”

He continued, feet moving quicker and quicker to the melody of the music. “But see, if we wed each other, then those problems would be solved instantly!”

You looked at him as if he was insane. “You do realise that I would still be married. My scrap of independence would be snatched from me anyway.”

“That would be true if you were marrying some silly old lord, who had no interest in you other than your titles.”

His hand on your back pulled you a little closer. “But you see, angel, you would be marrying me.”

Around and around, the two of you whirled, never stopping for a second to the music. “And you have known me long enough to know that I would never stop you from pursuing your passions.”

Higher the melody climbed, lost to your ears as your eyes widened.

His words rang through you with every note that escaped the instruments, sailing through the crescendo that washed over the ball. “You...you would let me write?”

Hyunjin furrowed your brows. “Did you think any different?” he asked, quite offended by your surprise. “Did you really expect that kind of behaviour from me?”

You did not hide your fears. “You may be my dearest friend, but you are still a man.”

That had him twisting his mouth into a scowl. His hands on you clenched harder. “You know me better than that, darling.”

You did, in fairness. The Duke of Hastings, leading you along this dramatic waltz, had been a constant in the entirety of your life. It was in these very balls that he had happened to stumble upon you, a child barely touching your second decade with a children’s book buried in your face. He, the exact same age but with much more excitement, snatched that book from your hands and made you leave your seat, chasing the boy around the ballroom till you burst into tears. After that rather unfortunate event, you vowed never to be in the same room as him, but you somehow ended up being his best friend instead.

Maybe it was because both of you had overbearing parents, driven by pressures of society and personal expectations. Or maybe it was the simple notion that after a while, you began to enjoy his eccentric behaviour and rather addictive smiles.

Perhaps it was better that way, too. For you could not imagine life without Hwang Hyunjin.

Your gaze was apologetic. “I do, blondie,” you supposed, but you steeled yourself once more. “But I have a condition!”

“And what condition would that be?” he asked, swirling you around and around, waiting for the climax to strike any second. The ladies around you were breathless, ecstatic, the gentlemen smug, but you and the duke had only business in your minds.

“Promise me that we remain the same,” you said, never leaving his sight when the music boomed across the ballroom, raw melodies dancing along with everyone within the four golden walls. His grip on you was firm, unflinching as he spun you across the marble floor one last time, dark boots never missing a single note as he nearly swept you away from the chaos of society. “Promise me that you and I will not change.”

And as the music drifted to an end, he finally slowed down. There was a moment of silence, heavier still under his stare.

“I cannot promise you that.”

His next words sent the strangest sensation down your spine.

“For we would not be friends anymore. We would be husband and wife.”

The ballroom erupted into applause.

You blinked back at the new noise, head darting at the couples beginning to clap at the ended dance. Although the others began to depart, the two of you lingered on the floor, hands still clasped.

His stare never faltered. “I cannot promise you that,” he repeated, slowly shaking his head. “Nor can I guarantee you continuity.

“What I can promise, though, is that I will not take away your freedom. You may write as much as you wish.”

It was then his hold on you eased, stepping away as he held out the book — never dropped from his hand, but firm as he brought it before you, a silent offer.

“What do you say, angel?” His gaze was impenetrable. “Will you be my wife?”

Among the lords and ladies, there was only you and him.

You and him against the world.

It was difficult, finding allies in a time you lived in. Reminded of your mother, you had a terrible feeling that only doom would fall upon you if you refused his help.

With good reason, too. No man could match what Hyunjin offered. No man would ever let you pursue your literary passions.

Not a singular male in this society would ever care for your basic freedom, other than he.

Another first, then.

So, in the middle of the ballroom, with your mother watching, you held onto the book, gripping it with a firm promise.

You dared not depart from the Duke of Hastings’ stare.

“Yes, blondie.”

You exposed a smile, a mocking quirk in your brow.

“A thousand times yes.”

THE WEDDING HAPPENED QUITE IMMEDIATELY AFTER THAT NIGHT.

You insisted the wedding be small and intimate, for the ceremonies were already boring enough, but both your mother and Hyunjin insisted it be a grand occasion.

The two of you tied the knot at Fulham Palace, a most esteemed estate dating back centuries, adorned in the finest flowers and gifts of nature surrounding its red-bricked walls. You had been there often in your childhood, due to the place being situated at the heart of your friend’s lands outside of the city, but seeing it decorated for your own wedding elevated the speciality of this abbey.

Many of London’s lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses had rushed to your invitation, fawning over the festivities and seated impatiently on the uncomfortable seating to await your arrival. Your friends, some bridesmaids, prepared your hair and fixed your dress, ordering everyone to take their places and sounding the instruments behind the altar to begin playing.

In truth, the ceremony was a blur.

Because this whole occasion was merely a plan, you did not deign to remember the memorable details of each event, the people who came or even the words recited by the priest.

However, the one figure you could not forget was your best friend.

No, you could not forget his face as you walked up to him slowly. It was a sight you had seen him expose only a few times in his life, when he would observe a flower open its petals in the morning, or regard a particular enchanting piece of artwork in an exhibition, which he would refuse to walk away from. You had raised a quizzical brow at him then as you slid the ring upon his finger, but he only offered you a wink, expression fading when the priest addressed you both.

Of course, another little detail you distinctly remembered was the declaration. The words which sealed a woman’s imprisonment.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Your gaze had darted to Hyunjin at that, finding him staring at you already. Meeting his gaze, you found the comfort you hoped you would receive.

The Duke of Hastings will not throw you into the cages of matrimony.

This very thought had relieved your nerves as you thanked every guest who congratulated you on the wedding, a few friends wiggling their eyebrows and wishing luck for the honeymoon. You waved them off, not really understanding the connotations, but carried on struggling at the reception until the sun had descended, and it was time for everyone to return home.

That very evening, the two of you set off for this particular honeymoon.

You bid your farewells to your mother, she much too emotional for your liking, and because Hyunjin had no parents to bid his farewells to, the wedding carriage was up and running before the moon had taken reins of the night sky.

Conversation never ran dry as you journeyed out of the din of London and into the countryside. Your destination was a couple of hours away, so rest was mostly out of the question as the carriage sped on, eager to get the newlyweds to their new home.

It was well into the night when you arrived at Hemingford Manor, one of the many estates Hyunjin had ownership of ever since his father’s passing. Engulfed within the lush nature of Cambridgeshire, the little estate exuded a comfortable sort of radiance which you would expect from warm fires of winter. The gardens surrounding its walls was a whole maze of trees, bushes and an assortment of flowers, heightening its already ancient regality.

The arrangements were made immediately, a small household welcoming you at the door as they took your luggage, unpacking everything as Hyunjin showed you around. It was extremely intimate, you noticed, every feature of any room possessing an unusual air well before your time, almost telling a story of theirs from centuries ago.

He brought you to the bedroom, the grand bed instantly in sight as it’s curtains were fully drawn around its wooden columns, bedsheets black and red with gold thread stitched in swirls at the hems. Two ornate chairs sat beside the windows, and a huge dresser sat opposite the bed, beside it the door to the en-suite bathroom. Oil paintings littered the red walls of his ancestors, noticing your friend’s portrait made in his youth. The entire room radiated warmth, and you found yourself easing completely in his den.

“Well, I guess I should prepare for sleep,” you began, shrugging off your coat, walking over to the chairs and settling it upon one of the arms.

Hyunjin blinked back, as if his thoughts had been interrupted. “Ah, yes, of course.” He gestured to the bed. “You can have this room. I can stay in the one next door.”

You looked at him as if he was insane. “Do a husband and wife not share the same bedroom?”

“Well—” the man put his hands on his hips. “Yes, but I do not want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” You stepped towards him, quite offended. “Have you forgotten when we would sleep in the same bed whenever I stayed at yours for the summer?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “We were children then, sweetheart. The situation is quite different now.”

“No, it is not,” you countered, matching his stance. “You were my dearest friend before, and you are my dearest friend now. That will always stay the same.”

That certainly quietened his tongue. He studied the stubborn quirk of your lips before sighing, unbuttoning his waistcoat. “Fine,” he quipped. “But I will not hesitate to throw you off the bed if you hog the sheets!”

You only offered him a scoff in response.

As the both of you began to ready yourself for bed, you opened your bag, making sure your papers were still intact. Counting up your drafts, you hummed in satisfaction before tying up the bag once again, setting it beside the dresser. Now, in your white nightgown, you went to the grand bed, slipping into the sheets.

Grabbing hold of Pride and Prejudice, you continued reading from where you left off as you waited for Hyunjin to be suitably dressed for slumber. You hoped he would take longer than usual, but he disappointed you, as the fool always does, by arriving much earlier, frilled-collared shirt all loose and trousers all slack.

The minute he saw you reading, he let out a groan. Leaning over, he snatched the book right out of your hands. “Hey!” You exclaimed, trying to take it back, but he stretched his hand away from you, propping it not-so-gently upon his bedside table. “Oh my God, not that harshly, you oaf! The book could tear!”

“I do not care!” He jeered, sliding into the sheets, propping his elbow so his hand supported his head. He swiped his locks away from his face, showing his full irritation. “Having your nose in a book on our wedding night!”

“Mr. Darcy was entertaining me just fine,” you sniped, crossing your arms. “You just had to be a Wickham and ruin the whole experience.”

“If this Wickham is a gift from the Lord Himself, then damn do I accept his name with pride!”

His ignorance made you laugh. Sliding your eyes to him, you matched his position, snuggling further into the pillows. “What does one even do on the wedding night anyway?”

Hyunjin’s amusement faltered at this, plush mouth parting ever so slightly.

The Duke knew exactly what one does on the wedding night.

As he raked his gaze over you, you waiting patiently for his answer, he wondered whether he should answer you truthfully. Tell you that he should be towering over you, kiss those pretty lips until they’re swollen and spit-slick, and take off that nightgown and uncover you before the stars. It was only customary, but the thought had his insides churning.

So he decided completely against it, to his absolute disappointment.

“How would I know? It is my first marriage as well.”

“Yes, but you’re aware of the ladies, and the gossip.” You leaned closer to him, unaware that the man’s heart halted for a second at the mere action. “When the guests were wishing me luck on my honeymoon they kept chuckling like children, as if they were in on a secret I was excluded from.”

“To hell with the guests, angel.” Hyunjin patted on your pillows, urging you to put your head down. “Our joining was very different from theirs. We can make our own rules.”

“Finally, an intelligent word from you!” You declared, but yelped as he pressed his hand on your head, sending you to the cushions. “Too harsh!”

“As I said, own rules,” he reminded you, a smile curling his lips. “Now please sleep! It is well past midnight.”

You shook your head no, resting your head in your arms. “Come on, Hyunjin! We have the whole night to ourselves, and you wish to sleep?”

Yes, he very much did. Because if he kept looking at you, excited and giggly and adorable, the tight leash he kept on himself would snap.

He could not have his hands on you on the very first night. Not when you had no knowledge of what that meant.

“Well then,” he started, using all the strength in him to not curl a stray lock around your ear. “Tell me of your writings.”

His request had you face burning. “Never.”

The man made a face. “What?” He demanded, nudging you with his fingers. “Now you must tell me!”

“No, not now,” you hurried off, hiding your face in the pillows. God, the thought of your friend reading anything of yours made you sick to the stomach. “Argh!”

“But why?” he asked, a beginning of a pout etching onto his lips. “Do you not trust me, even though I have tolerated you for all these years?”

You turned to him again, furrowing your brows. “I do trust you!” You reassured him. “And I will tell you at the right time. Just...not at this moment.”

When you saw a frown develop on his face, you pouted at him, shame coursing through your bones. “To tell you the truth, Hyunjin, I am just embarrassed. It is so rough at the moment, so I want to show you the very best.”

“But I want to see everything,” he muttered. “Your worst and your best.”

“And you will see it!” You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his slender hand. The boy gaped at you at the sudden contact, but you continued. “You will be the first to see my drafts. I give you my word.”

The honest consolation brought the duke to a stillness. Hand enveloped by your fingers, he watched you await his reaction.

Being the first to see your private writings was truly an asset. A special secret he would never share to another.

“I wait patiently for that time, then,” he said, offering you a smile which melted your heart. “Now, I beg, sleep!” he added, bringing the sheets up to your chin. “I can tell you’re exhausted.”

Knowing your whining would be of no use, you looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Fine, you absolute bother.” You closed your eyes. “Goodnight, blondie.”

A small chuckle escaped him, never forgetting the hold you had over his hand. He regarded over your resting figure, curling ever so slightly next to him, and he just could not help himself.

Stretching out his other hand, his fingers tucked away your stray locks from your face, curling them behind your ear. The smile ghosted on his lips, and only then he sank further into the pillows.

“Goodnight, angel.”

MARITAL LIFE WAS NOT AS TERRIBLE AS YOU IMAGINED IT TO BE.

A couple of weeks had passed as this ‘honeymoon’ period progressed in Hemingford, and you were beginning to settle in quite nicely to the peaceful time. The birds never ceased to chirp joyfully around the manor, the nature which engulfed the two of you like another living being surrounding you, silent yet welcoming.

The scenery was perfect for someone like you, who was waiting for an environment like this to bring out the papers and put that inspiration to use. Hours rushed by as you sat under the trees beside the manor, writing away the scenes in your head as the maids brought you food. A few of those hours may have just been wasted on daydreaming, but that was the beauty of this entire situation — you simply had the time to waste in this retreat.

Hyunjin had been more than satisfactory: he always came to dine with you for all meals, never concluding conversation, and made sure to accompany you on walks around the lands. Everytime you would step into new landmarks he would instantly recall the history behind it, explaining the work his forefathers had done on the manor, and lead you along till the sun followed you two down the horizon.

You had initial fears. Just because he was your best friend before, it did not predict what his behaviour would be after marriage. You had heard many marital horror stories during the seasons of London society, and each one was worse than the last. Although you always knew the duke could never hurt you, there was no trusting the opposite sex. Fortunately for you, he rid those doubts from your mind, and maybe you began to have faith in the future.

There was, however, a downside to your new husband.

“Why will you not show me the drafts?!” he whined for the last time, following you into the house. Rolling your eyes for the millionth time, you took off your bonnet, handing it to the maid nearby. “I have waited long enough!”

“I do not have to explain myself to you!” you argued back, grabbing your skirts as you rushed up the stairs, Hyunjin right at your heels.

The man was much too quick, overtaking you instantly and barring you from stepping into the hallway. A groan was your reaction. “Let me through!” you ordered.

“Tell me what your book is about.”

“I am not telling you anything!”

He curved closer to you, blond locks sliding off his shoulders. “Why?” he hissed, and you stayed stubborn as his hand on the bannister snuck closer to yours. “What have you written in there that is so exclusive?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, crossing your arms.

It was not like you had written an anti-Duke of Hastings manifesto. Once again, it was just your humiliation — although you loved to write, there was absolutely no way you could ever willingly show him your work as of this moment.

You could not have your best friend be disappointed by your creations.

So you turned completely on your heel, descending down the stairs.

“Hey!” you heard the man shout as you stepped into the entryway, picking up your book. “Where are you going?”

“To talk to the trees!” You looked over your shoulder, making sure to give him a glare.”Because I know they will not argue back!”

Before he could speak any more, you thundered out of the house, taking Pride and Prejudice with you.

An enraged sigh escaped you, walking rapidly into the maze of hedges as you tried to stroll the anger away. When these silly arguments occurred, you began to wish that you had never told him of your work in progress. You could have just admitted that you liked to write, and feared that any other men would rob you off that hobby.

And on the last day of your honeymoon, too. Maybe you should have told him you were illiterate instead.

Settling yourself upon the white wooden bench, right beside the forest, you opened up your book, gritting your teeth still as you immersed yourself in the world of Elizabeth Bennet. Although progressing, your thoughts drifted to another man who did not reside in the pages, and you found yourself even more aggravated.

Damned the beautiful bastard. Of course you were going to tell him of your writings. Why could he not simply wait?

The thought had you rigid on the bench as you read on, the mere wind and trees your silent company as you read away your rage. The duke did not come searching for you — it was for the better, because if he tried you would have ran away from his stalking figure.

Night ascended from the horizons, and as the sun retreated so did you, back into the manor, book at your side. You nodded to the guards who opened the huge doors for you, letting you inside as you went straight for the stairs, void of the man who refused to let you pass.

Dim lights illuminating the way, you walked right up until your bedroom door greeted you, and when you saw Hyunjin, leaned back in the ornate chair as he looked out of the window, you paused at the entrance.

Although your steps were quiet, he turned his head to you. His features held a veil of unreadable emotions, cemented by the slight down curve of his mouth.

You scowled at him as you stepped inside. “I am not showing you the drafts.”

He closed his eyes, nodding. “As you wish.”

You removed your coat, a brow raising. “I won’t show them to you tomorrow either.”

“As you say.”

Another brow joined its partner. “Nor will I show you them the next week.”

“Of course.”

What was this sudden change? “Hyunjin, are you unwell?”

“I am perfectly adequate, darling.”

The endearment had you frowning further. “Fine,” you muttered, knowing he was hiding something from you. “I will be inside, taking a bath.”

You were about to enter the bathroom when his voice halted you.

“____?”

Looking over your shoulder, you answered, “Yes?”

The man let out a soft sigh, crossing his leg over the other. “I...I wanted to say that I apologise for my persistence.”

Now that was a statement you were not expecting. You opened your mouth, but closed it, thinking it was for the better, and instead leaned at the doorway.

“I…” he clasped his hands. “I realised that as I insisted and shouted, I was becoming the very man you wished to avoid. That is the last thing I want for us. If you are uncomfortable in showing me your writings, that is fine. A husband, most of all a best friend, should respect that decision.”

His eyes lifted to yours, pinning you with a fierce stare. “I will not persist with you anymore.”

You found yourself unable to break this stare as you, too, locked your hands together, biting your bottom lip at this turnout.

The duke had never apologised for anything.

In the many years you had known him, he would always stand by his decisions, even if they turned out to be disastrously against his favour. His stubbornness refused to let him submit to the other, and you had watched him have his boney backside beaten almost every week for it.

Hearing the plea for forgiveness had certainly changed that perception.

You took a few steps toward him, willing your hands at your sides as his gaze followed.

Was the denial really necessary? The poor man only wished to take a glimpse into your mind. Was that too much for him to ask for?

No. You had to stay upright. So what if he apologised? He should have! The man had caused a ringing in your ears from the arguing.

But now, even though the entire time your body repulsed at the thought before, you found yourself reaching for your satchel.

His eyes did not leave your hands as you brought out the papers, dumping your bag beside his feet. You held them out, knowing there is no way out of your actions.

“Here.”

Hyunjin looked at the papers as if they were hemlock. “Why are you showing me your drafts?”

You pursed your lips. “Because I want you to eat them.”

“I have no appetite for paper this evening, I’m afraid.”

The attitude had you warning, “Do you want to read it or not?”

He regarded you with an adorable puzzlement. “Darling,” he started, and the word had you raising it closer to him. “You do not have to show me. I cannot have you forcing to do something which you do not—”

“You’re not.”

He paused. Kept that beguiling stare upon you. You carried on, “Hyunjin, I need you to understand that it was never anything personal. It was me just...not really believing in myself.” Gently putting the small stack of papers in on his lap, you locked your hands behind your back. “But I gave you my word on our wedding night. And the day you proposed, and the day I realised you were a dear friend to me.

“You will be my first for everything. Especially in the goals and dreams I treasure the most.”

The duke’s eyes enlarged, darting to the drafts settled on his thighs and then to you, capturing your lip between your teeth in nervousness. He wished ardently that you would break that habit, for if you kept at it he might just grab your face and continue for you.

My first for everything. The declaration had his stomach turning in on itself. He knew he had been there for many of your firsts, but saying it out loud was something else. Saying it out loud meant you were aware of that fact as well.

So unimaginable, that you did not even realise the impact you had on him. So unbelievably innocent, eyes searching for his answer, desperate for consolation, when he had completely different matters in mind.

By God, if you did not turn around and leave him, he would let the control on him falter.

“I...I need to take a long bath, Hyunjin,” you said, finding his stare unusually penetrating. “By the time I am done you would have finished reading half of it.”

Turning, you stalked back to the bathroom, looking over your shoulder as you took a step inside. “No sweetening the feedback.”

You did not wait for his answer as you went inside, shutting the door.

Both of you, not realising that the other was doing so, let out a quivering sigh.

Something was amiss.

There was this...tension. You did not know the origin, but you knew it was there, underlying and creeping closer. Hyunjin was unusually quiet. Compliant even. A small part of you feared that maybe you should not have given him the most vulnerable possession in your care.

Deciding to fill the hot water in the bath yourself, you got on with your task, filling buckets of water in the copper bathtub till it nearly overflowed. Once done, you got rid of your clothes, and stepped inside. You instantly relaxed as the warmth of the water soaked your skin, calming your nerves, which were running high moments before.

As you progressed with using the soap, you distinctly heard the pages turning in the room next door. Scrubbing yourself, you hoped that the man was enjoying your words, or else you were never leaving this bathtub again.

At one point, you leaned your head back, closing your eyes as the water, now mixed with the scent of roses, lapped lazily against you. Your thoughts, once again, wandered to the man a wall away from you — what was he thinking? You wished you were there beside him, witnessing his reactions to the actions, dialogue, romance you had added in there.

Maybe that was the real problem. The couple you had added in this story had a strong relationship, but because you yourself had never experienced any sort of star-crossed love, you did not particularly know how to portray the raw romance. Still, you made sure they held hands in the ballroom at chapter 49. That was the pace in every other book you read, anyway.

After what seemed like a whole night later, you finally got out of the water, drying yourself with the towel hanging beside the tub. Grabbing your white nightgown, you donned the light dress, keeping it as loose as possible as you tried to dry your hair further, opening the door.

When you looked up, you saw the duke, head down, scanning through the papers with a face so focused it worried you. You made to say his name, but his hand shot up, silencing you. He did not even glance at your figure, bringing the hand back to swipe a finished page.

A little smile appeared on your lips. Is he...invested?

Does he enjoy your writing?

Another ten minutes of observing him, and he put the last paper down.

Slowly, he tilted his head upwards, turning to where you stood. His face expressed something cryptic — unable to decipher the emotion which swirled beneath his dark, glinting eyes.

He then let out a scoff.

“Darling, I need you to sit.” He gestured beside him, on the edge of the bed. “Right here.”

Perplexed, you obliged, settling yourself on the soft sheets, watching him heave off his chair, the last piece of your draft still in hand. He began a pace back and forth across the room, shaking his head as he turned at every end.

The pacing began to concern you. “Hyunjin, is something the matter?” you asked, hands grabbing tufts of your nightgown. “If you really wish to walk then you have all of Cambridgeshire waiting.”

“Tell me, dearest,” he said, still thundering across the room. “Remind me why you did not want to show me your drafts.”

That was an usual first comment. “Umm...because I was embarrassed about my writing?”

Your answer made him stop. Whirl to your direction.

“Ah, yes!”

His features twisted into anger.

“Such poppycock!”

You blinked back. “I-pardon?”

“No, you shall not be pardoned!” he exclaimed, pointing at you with the stash of papers. “Not when you have written something like this!”

“Hyunjin, what do you mean?”

The man nearly ripped his hair out.

“____, you have written a bloody masterpiece!”

Your entire body stilled.

“I...I did what?”

“Wrote a masterpiece!” He swiped through the pages, lighting up at each word that passed his gaze. “A bestseller! An award winning novel!”

A smile worked its way onto your lips. “You...you really think so?”

Sighing out in exasperation, he set the papers upon the desk as he began to lose his initial anger. “How could you be embarrassed about something so beautiful?” He put his hand on the gold chair, leaning onto its head. “Your descriptions were lovely, the characters are perfectly imperfect. You have outdone a lot of the writers in circulation.”

Your shoulders sagged a little — almost as if you had been carrying a heavy burden, and this man had taken it off of you.

You made sure he saw your joy when you said, “Thank you, blondie.”

Seeing the pure contentment upon your face had your friend looking away, eyes narrowing to the plans once again.

“There was, however, one thing which needed improvement.”

The setback had you straightening once again, eager to hear. At least he was not sweetening it fully. “Go on.”

“As I was reading through, right till the end, I noticed a lack of very important details.”

That was quite strange. “A lack of?” you asked, when you were so sure that you had added too much of everything.

“Yes.”

His fingers drummed against the velvet of the chair. His other hand tightened upon his hip.

“I noticed that there was a deep lack of...passion.”

An incredulous look was your reply. “Passion?”

“Yes, passion. Desire.” He jerked his head towards the papers. “I hardly saw any of those emotions in the book.”

This new information was certainly quite worrying for you. “But I do not understand,” you started. “My whole novel is based on this relationship, of the love that blossoms and grows—”

“I understand that, darling, I really do,” he said. “I know what you are going to say.”

The drumming continued. “But where is that residing in the chapters? Where is that physical lust implied in the characters?”

Lust.

You had heard of the word before. Heard of its implications, yet never grasped the weight of its meaning. Was it just another form of longing?

If only your mother had given you an education on this side of love.

“What do you mean...lust?”

Hyunjin raised a groomed brow. “What else could I mean, angel?”

The way he voiced that question, that endearment, had you parting your mouth, unable to say anything. You tried to speak, to say something to ease the tension which came slithering back into the bedroom.

“I...what were you expecting? From the relationship.”

Curling his locks behind his ear, his gaze became obscure. “You spoke of forbidden love, of...of a coupling which should not be occurring but happened through the fate of the universe. Is that right?”

When you nodded, he carried on. “See, I did not sense that from their exchanges. Their emotions are tame, chaste. An innocence which cannot be tainted.

“Now where is the fun in that?”

You dared not break his gaze. “What is that ’fun’?”

His eyes seemed to darken. “That ‘fun’ in the relationship is physicality. Where is that in your novel?”

He took a step towards you. “Where are the unbreaking stares? The curious hands, aching to caress another’s? Where are the trembling breaths, the lust-stained sighs that fan lovers’ lips?”

The duke had you craning your neck back as he looked down at you. “Where are the kisses, my darling?”

You gulped. “K-kisses?”

“Yes, kisses,” he repeated softly. “Lips enveloping lips, tasting your inner workings? Travelling to your neck, your collarbone...places which cannot even be whispered in polite society?”

Each part he mentioned had goosebumps pricking at that certain place.

The bastard still did not stop. “Where is that passion, ____? Where is that forbidden love, which only makes the heart burn wilder?”

And as he descended before you on his knees, delicate hands settling on your lap, you had a feeling swirl up your sides which had never struck you before.

“If I were the man in your book, I would not be tame with you.”

His eyes offered a new, intimidating darkness. “Because if you were my woman, then I do not think I’d control myself. The moment I’d catch the innocence dancing in your eyes, I’d have waltzed it away into my shadows.

“Only God could save you from my hunger, then.”

Silence descended upon the two of you.

One waiting for the other to speak, and the other unable to form the words to do so.

The moon had illuminated your husband, one side of his face glowing like a celestial being, the other side basked in darkness. How strange, when he had compared himself to it just a few moments before.

You seemed unable to look away from him. His gaze, always intense, now had become so penetrating you wondered whether he could glance at your soul, quivering from his feedback.

Improvements which you still did not quite comprehend, despite the implications.

Somehow, he could see it on your face. “I have a feeling you still do not grasp the idea. Is that correct?”

A half nod. “I…” God, speak! “I just...I have never understood it, Hyunjin.”

Your head dipped down, darting at the plains of your hands. “You asked me about lust, and I simply cannot answer because I do not know. I have never experienced such emotion.

“Hell, I have not witnessed a single action that you spoke of. How could you expect me to write of desires I have never even felt?”

This.

This was unchartered territory. This was a terrain you had not explored with him.

Yes, he was your best friend. But one does not talk of such...dangerous conservation when your best friend happens to be a male — a complete rake, at that.

It seemed as if the rake, too, was thinking the same.

His legs, a force which had never let him down, threatened to buckle under him. His mouth opened, only for silence to answer you.

Lord and all His subjects help him. He did not think he could contain it any longer.

And as his eyes exposed you, vulnerable before him, he only knew of one thing — one fact within this ocean of uncertainty you swam in.

He would jump into the waters for you. But not to haul you out to safety.

No, the duke would drag you down further, with him as your sole saviour.

Or even your destroyer. Your fated undoing.

For the Duke of Hastings will absolutely ruin you, body and soul.

“Hyunjin?”

A blink.

A singular action, dragging him back to dark, dark reality, even sweeter than his fantasies as it sat before him, shy and wide-eyed.

An innocent reality all for him to defile.

“Yes, angel?”

You tried not to shudder at his lilting whisper. “How am I to be helped?”

The man did not even think of the possibilities, to your surprise.

If only you knew, how long he had kept them hidden for.

“How about...how about I assist you?”

Confusion washed over your features. “And how would you assist me, Hyunjin? You have never written a novel.”

His answer was a chuckle, revealing slight glimpses of his teeth as he stood.

“That is true, yes.”

Sitting down beside you, he planted his hands behind him on the bed, leaning into the position.

“But what I can provide aid for is the one feature you lack in your writing.”

His voice right behind gave you a fright.

“Pure, raw lust.”

Looking over yourself, you watched him reclined in ease. Your speech was uneven as you said, “And...and how will you help me with that?”

“Simple, my darling.” A pause, looking you over. “I shall provide you with examples. Show you what truly happens between a man and woman when all they yearn for is each other.”

He saw the further questions in your gaze. The questions you dared not voice out loud, perhaps dared not understand.

Smirking, he sat himself up, eyes never leaving yours as his hands encircled your own, bunched up in your dress. As his fingers brushed against your linen he felt his skin go aflame.

“If, of course, you would let me.”

Tilting your head slightly upwards, you sensed a foreign warmth envelop your face, burning at the sight of your friend studying you like an empty canvas, begging to be filled.

Perhaps you were an empty sheet of paper, waiting to be painted with guidance by the master. Maybe that master was beside you all along.

“What will you do to me, Hyunjin?”

There it was. The question which may have been his drug — his purest form of opium.

Because when his hands travelled upwards, sliding to your face and imprisoning you with his stare, he knew he would become addicted.

“Not only show you what real passion looks like.”

A shame he did not care for his well-being when you were so fucking tempting.

“But show you what real passion tastes like.”

The shuddering breath that left you caressed Hyunjin’s lips, and he debated throwing the whole course of patience out of the window, and ravage you this second.

But he would never do that. Not unless you asked him to.

“May I?” He whispered, eyes heavy lidded. The need for an answer was beyond rationality.

You looked at him one last time before you let your heart answer for you.

“Show me, Hyunjin.

Those three words were all it took for the duke to close the distance.

Close the final space which had stayed so irritably prevalent, when he brushed his lips against yours.

The first thought that came to mind was how soft his mouth felt.

Plush lips, moving against yours with the utmost gentleness; as if testing the waters, familiarising their new surroundings. He did not know what to expect, which was a thought that shocked him. Had he not bedded half of London to know the ins and outs of how a man should pleasure a woman?

Still, his vast knowledge could not prepare him for you and your shy acceptance.

His fingers cradling your jaw, satisfied, he delved in a little deeper, the weathered leash beginning to loosen as he found his opium upon your mouth.

You attempted to follow his actions — letting him lead the kiss as if it were the many dances you had partaken with him, treating this as yet another waltz you both had to share. The issue was, dancing never brought you the unnerving thrill that these ministrations did.

Hyunjin’s kisses were quite indescribable.

When he tilted your head with the pressure of his fingers, gaining the fullest possible access to your lips, he thought his heart would burst from his chest. So compliant, you were, trailing after his actions. His pleasure heightened when he felt your heartbeat race beneath his fingertips, which resided just underneath your jaw.

He would have been a happy man if he continued the kiss forever, but he forced himself to break away, remembering that this was your first, that you were not acquainted with the dance of passion. His gaze pried over your features, and a famished smile nearly broke upon his face.

He found you shivering beneath his grasp.

Lips glistening, courtesy of his own, eyes wide and skin warm, there was no other reaction which the duke would have savoured more. A fearful excitement resided upon your beautiful face — almost as if you were scared of yourself, of the feelings he ignited within you.

The man was not far from his prediction. You were positively terrified.

Terrified of the fire-like emotion that threatened to turn your stomach in on itself. It was an extraordinary sensation — as if you were engulfed by some unknown, mysterious fire, and Hyunjin was the one sparking it to life.

You parted your mouth, trying to speak but to no fruition.

And him, whose eyes grew darker at the lack of words, curled his fingers to your jaw, smirking. “I can hear your heartbeat from here, darling.” A singular finger tapped against the spot, where your blood pumped quicker than usual.

Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears too, making you all the more aware of the situation — you may not know what these feelings were, but you needed to find out.

It was not entirely your fault. A writer must do their research, after all.

Painfully swallowing the lump in your throat, you made yourself speak, asking the questions which haunted you. “Is...is this all?” you got out.

Hyunjin slanted his head a little, narrowing his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You know…” your hands instinctively reached for your lips. “What we just did. Is that all that happens?”

The hesitation had him chuckling, the shaky exhale caressing your mouth. “Do not pretend that you were unaware of kisses,” he mused, and you desperately tried to look away.

The slight grip on your jaw had you unable to do so. “And as for your question…” the smirk remained. “We have barely touched the surface.”

His other hand skirting downwards, it grazed along your collarbone, tumbling to the free space at your side. It settled itself among the bunched linen, holding you steady.

“I can show you more,” he whispered. “If only you wish it.”

Face burning further, you closed your eyes, letting your head dip in acceptance. You could not even think at this point — you were curious. Beyond intrigued, wondering whether these feelings would swell up more, take you into another reality farther from your imagination.

It was a slight inconvenience that Hyunjin shook his head.

“No, my darling,” he said softly, the fingers on your jaw sliding to your chin. “I want you to say it. Say you want more.”

You had not the slightest idea what this ‘more’ was, but you sure wished to discover — judging by the ravenous gleam in your husband’s stare, he wished for you to find out too.

“Fine then, Hyunjin…” one last pause ensued. “I...I want more.”

The said-man let a small groan escape before capturing your lips again.

He knew he was being selfish — almost pouncing on you like a man starved, grip on your side tightening as he quickened his pace, slowly prying your lips open.

When you felt his tongue skim along the seam of your mouth, you found yourself opening up to him, shocked at the sudden enthusiasm. Your hands, unoccupied, fumbled at your lap, unsure of their use until Hyunjin, his own hands leaving you, held onto them.

With precise direction he placed them on his shoulders, all the while slithering his tongue inside. You found yourself gripping onto him harder as he explored you, he himself nearly transcending at your yielding. A groan threatened to escape, but was drowned out by his mouth, closing over yours and kissing you insane.

His tongue worked wonders within you, swirling along with yours, desperation increasing with every time you complied with his actions. He opened your lips a little wider, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip, and you could not contain your moans any longer. The whimpered replies had him tugging on your lip, slowly sinking his teeth on the swollen flesh. Your fingers could not grasp harder, the lock around his neck tightening with a growing need.

Is that what it all was? Urgency? What was this need for?

You hoped with all your heart that Hyunjin would know.

He pulled away from your mouth, and with gasped breaths, he got out, “Angel, may I—” His thumb caressed the corners of your lips, trailing down to your neck. “May I kiss you here—?”

The second the ragged yes escaped, the man’s mouth began peppering little kisses along his finger’s trail, leaving your skin burning with every touch. Dipping his head into your neck, he tugged down the neckline of your gown, settling on your collarbone. The hem descended to your shoulders, threatening to fall at your waist.

His kisses did not falter, even when you gasped out his name, a soft cry which only grew when his teeth grazed at your skin. Pain bloomed at the touch, but the feeling did not last long, replacing it with his tongue lapping up the mark. The dull ache remained, yet forgotten as he created a pattern of these stinging sensations.

“____,” he whispered upon your skin, a hypnotic chant which only had you whining in response. His mouth skimmed right up to your ear in frantic. “I...I must show you even more.”

You stilled completely. “E-even more?”

Hyunjin’s eyes did not leave yours as his hands travelled down, holding onto your sides. Slowly, he tugged you forward, your body merely following as he laid you down into the bed. Your heart hammered as he towered over you, the loose shirt revealing a glimpse of his chest, and his locks, drooping down to your face.

Your hands held onto the sheets. The gesture had him melting, so endeared by your little scares. What would you know of what will follow?

His idle fingers began to roam. With every shuddering breath they journeyed further below, until they found the hem of your nightgown. He held onto the fabric, slowly sliding it upwards.

You hissed slightly at the cold that welcomed your bare legs, but it was overshadowed by his warm caresses, every touch causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Or something of the sort. That was what it felt like to you, anyway, with how out of place the reaction was.

You asked him as his fingers paused, right on the edges of your upper thighs. Confusion, mixed with an overwhelming sensation, washed over you with every phantom touch. “What are you—” you paused as his hand tugged your legs open, ever so slightly. “What are you to do with your fingers?”

His answering gaze had you praying for the Lord. “How about I show you instead?” The contact lingered. “I promise it will feel wonderful.”

There was no other answer you could offer him. A hasty nod could only suffice as, with that signal, the duke braced himself for what he had been dreaming to do.

Nothing prepared you for the feeling of his fingers past your thighs.

Your breathing hitched as they teased against your entrance, running slowly along your slit. He collected the arousal which pooled at the apex, mouth agape from your reaction.

How you were drenched for him.

The very sight, and the prolonging idea, had the man exhaling sharply. Even now, he could see in your gaze — you were unaware of your own responses, your body’s hurried joy as it begged for his fingers to delve in further.

Tonight, he would show you a glimpse of his fantasies.

His one finger slipped inside you, and you felt the world turn.

Slowly, so painfully slow it slid between your folds, completely halting your breath as you gaped at him. He held your stare with a dark intensity — no doubt there was hesitation on his part, scared his control would shatter, terrified he would submit to your desire and break you under his hold. Already the thought was so appealing.

Still, he kept his fantasies at bay, holding your face like a fragile artifact as he delved deeper. A soft moan escaped your lips, and he cocked his head, realising it was a whine you tried to contain.

“Angel, please,” he murmured, and when he paused on his journey you looked at him in desperation. “Don’t be shy with me.”

And then, grip on your side tightening, he began to pull his finger out.

This time, it was impossible to restrain.

A heightened gasp shuddered out of you, gripping onto his shirt. How could an action so simple be so electrifying? The idea could not make any sense, but it did not need to when it brought such pleasure. You pulled on the fabric harder, elevating Hyunjin’s joy at seeing you so bothered.

“Yes, just like this,” he cooed, repeating the movement. This time, though, he quickened the pace as he began peppering little kisses upon your face. Each brush of his lips was like fuel to the fire below, growing angrier with every leisured plunge. “Say it all for me.”

You did not need to be told twice.

Your whines grew as he quickened, foreign waves of mysterious origin overtaking your body. You feared his singular finger might be enough to do something drastic, but then his thumb started to wander. When he found your clit, he created a slow pattern of circling the bud, causing you to squirm beneath him.

Seeing him above you was all too much — you needed his lips upon yours, needed to be lost in his tongue or else you would lose your mind. “H-hyunjin,” you stammered out, and the dazed expression had him reeling. “Please...please kiss me.”

He nearly moaned at the request itself. There you were, asking for his touch. His delirium spoke for him, letting his delusion a little astray. “But darling,” he muttered, leaning his face closer to you. “How can I watch you like this if I simply kiss you?”

Releasing his finger till the mere pad remained, he smiled at your panting. “How will I be able to watch you when I do this—” and brought two digits inside you.

He felt your walls pulsate around him, and he revelled in your reactions, the groans that followed with his delving. So, so compliant. So wonderfully welcoming, when all he did was touch the surface.

Your speech was all muddled, broken words and half-prayers as his fingers worked within you. As if that was not enough, he curled them inside, and there, he brushed against a spot which had you seeing stars. You could hardly stay still under his grasp, squeezing your legs together.

“Fuck,” he slipped out, and the curse itself had you fisting your hands in his shirt, damning the turnout if it were to tear. “Sweetheart, it’s okay to let go, keep those legs open.”

Further fastening his labour, you found yourself developing the most intense feeling in your gut — like a dark, swirling ball, aching to be released. You tried to raise your head to kiss him, but he only did the same, you barely missing him.

“Hyunjin!” You gasped out, and the said-man knew that no orchestra could compete with the music you tuned for him. Grabbing clumsily onto his collar, you tried with meak strength to bring him down. “Something...it’s wrong, something is amiss—”

You cut a glance down, where your cunt was more than occupied with his digits. “Wh-what am I feeling?!” In a frenzy you stared at him again, tears pricking your eyes. “Why do I feel—”

The duke only shushed you, a gaze akin to affection being offered to you as he trailed a slender finger upon your cheek. “Oh, sweet angel,” he whispered, voice a little breathless.

“That is me keeping my promise.”

And when he finally swooped your lips in a heart-wrenching kiss, fingers never stopping below, you let the overwhelming feeling take over. The aching was freed, and you broke away with a cry as you released onto him, spilling onto the sheets.

Hyunjin commenced a trail of sweet kisses upon your face, slowing his work inside you. Lethargy washed over you, and you barely sensed him slip his fingers out until the hollowness of your cunt welcomed you in his stead.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, you watched him as he brought the two digits to his parted mouth, sucking softly on the skin. A low noise hummed out of him, and you found yourself growing warmer all over again.

He caught you looking at him, and he slipped his fingers out with a pop!

“Truly divine, you are.”

Skin burning, you quickly shimmied your nightgown down, earning a chuckle from your husband. “That was…” you began, and you did not know why the thought made you so flustered.

“Do not worry your pretty mind, sweetheart,” he reassured you, flicking your nose. “Your release was answer enough.”

That only had you all the more embarrassed. “Hyunjin?”

His eyes rooted to yours. “Yes?”

“Was this…” you paused, trying to find the right words. “Was whatever we did...everything? Was this the end?”

Despite the two of you only finishing now, the duke had his gut turning in on itself all over again. This time, he let patience take over. He had been rewarded more than enough.

He still answered with a hushed tone, offering you another vision. Another promise, which he intended on fulfilling even further.

“Of course not, angel. This was merely the beginning.”

THE NEXT MORNING SAW THE TWO OF YOU IN LONDON.

It was a much more gradual journey than the previous one, with all the time in the world to go back to the duke’s main estate, where he was called to work after weeks of leisure. You, first indignant, were now devastated to leave Hemingford, a place which became a special haven in such a short time.

But of course, one could not neglect their husband. Not when that husband would never let you leave his side.

Hyunjin was all eye-smiles in the carriage, hands refusing to let go of you despite your complaints. You did not particularly mind, but when he resorted to kissing you with the curtains drawn, your levels of embarrassment nearly broke the scale, amusing him to no end.

There was no stopping him, though. After taking the first heated step with you, the vault of restraint in his senses had cracked. All this time he had proceeded with caution, but your heightened whimpers of the night before had undone the cellar of his desires.

Once again, you had experienced another first with him. A first which he wanted to conquer for a long, long time.

Unfortunately, business called, or else he would have stayed a few weeks more. Damn the men begging his presence, when he could have explored every layer of your innocence in that manor, revelled in ruining you of your ignorance.

He thought he had time to show the world of pleasure.

Alas, the fantasy he created in his Manor had to fade.

Reality crashed upon the two of you unfairly quick — there was not a moment’s rest as you arrived at Lansdowne, the official estate of the Hwang family nestled in Mayfair. It was more an enchanting palace than a home, every room, furniture and painting like pieces out of a fairytale. You could never forget the first time you entered, knowing that despite your previous comforts, you were to be spoiled in this abode.

The unfavourable situation which turned out from this was that your husband was not present to spoil you in his royal den.

As the days began there, with banality taking over, the two of you barely had any occasion to spend some time together. Business sunk its claws into the duke, refusing to show mercy. All the days and most nights, he managed tenants on his lands, heard their complaints and attempted to provide solutions.

The problems arose while he was away tending to you in your getaway, his subordinates incapable of handling the work he did so effortlessly. It frustrated Hyunjin to no end, when he had to learn these strategies since his adolescence, yet his employees, far older than him, could not manage to use his funds efficiently.

Although this meant time was sparse together, you did not mind so terribly. Having solitude meant having opportunities to write, and so you threw yourself into your drafts. You revised the more intimate scenes between your couple, and dared write down your first experiences onto the page.

Even documenting the occurrence had your stomach fluttering — when he kissed you delirious, going as far as slipping his fingers inside you. It felt like a delusion in your mind, scared that you merely created such events through your imagination, but you could not not make up such passion.

Hwang Hyunjin had shown you a very tangible fantasy.

It was these memories that kept you company as you penned down your world, a couple thousand words being scrawled on paper everyday. You wished to talk to him about taking matters further with your novel, but whenever the two of you had the occasional dinners you could not bring yourself to address the subject. He was already so occupied, and dumping your own tasks on him would devastate you

So you secluded yourself into your room, and only wrote.

Few weeks into Lansdowne, and you began to miss him.

You did not know how this feeling entered, but the moment it crawled into you it was all you could endure. It was not uncommon for you to miss your dear friend, even before marriage, but now that you lived with him, the situation changed. During the afternoons, when you burned your mind from the constant writing, you longed for his presence; conversation never ran dry when he was around, and the maids who offered refreshment were hardly an alternative.

Your longing, unfortunately, did not stop there.

Ever since that fateful night, you failed in shaking off the ever present tingling. His midnight eyes, akin to the devil, haunted you in isolation, and the sheer image of his full lips quickened your heartbeat. In fact, when you wrote a similar recount into your writing, the incident came into your mind so clearly you had to abandon the task altogether. The familiar wetness pooled at your core, and you cursed the heavens for being weak.

His fingers had an everlasting impression on you.

That was a whole other problem — you and Hyunjin, because of his tightening schedule, hardly had any opportunity to explore further of what happened. Teasing words and stolen kisses were your only alternative, and you dared not ask of him to do more. Your cowardice may have been one of the main reasons, but he was another factor of your silence. The man came home every night, so exhausted that even requesting to have him satisfy you brought you shame. He was much too tired, and you could not be selfish.

So you did not bother him. Let him leave every morning, and imagine what would be if he did not have so many responsibilities.

However, another couple of weeks later, and the need became unbearable.

Your every thought and feeling was replaced with this...this urgency. It was horrifying to you, never having been forced to such extremes, but it preyed on your mind like a beast. Meaningless tasks turned into burdens, sleep was lost, and your very heart threatened to burst from the intuitions. You wished to stop, but once you remembered that phantom touch, it was over. There was simply no alternative.

During those times, you could barely look at Hyunjin, offering you tired smiles as he disappeared into your chambers. You figured he did not notice, or else you knew he would make a comment on your worsening state. Truthfully, you were overjoyed that he was too exhausted to see you like this. If there was any chance he was aware, that alone would kill you off.

But this desire, too, was slowly withering you away.

Even as the sun began to descend, birds singing softly beyond your intricate window, soon to be drawn to a close. The library was bathed in gold from the light, painting your face as you attempted to write the last of the chapter, but to little success.

You figured your creativity had had enough of being stuck in your bedroom, so you opted for a change of scenery, but the parasite was at hand, churning just below your stomach. Even with the thousands of books settled all around you, radiating their knowledge, the ache remained, dull yet present. You scowled, pushing the pencil harder in your hand.

The poor lead broke suddenly, making you flinch. “Argh!” you let out, throwing the object upon the desk. Useless — you were so utterly useless, reduced to a mold of nerves, growing with each image that passed in your head.

Cursing, you put your hands in your lap, looking to the gardens beyond the window.

There is nothing you can do, ____.

The need arising, you slid your palms back, enough so they rested over your core.

A dangerous thought entered your mind.

That’s not true. There is one solution.

Your eyes widened.

Of course, there was always that alternative. Glancing down, you involuntarily pressed your palm to your clothed cunt. Already a wave of pleasure washed over you, and you suppressed any sound with a hand to your mouth.

You cannot. By God, you cannot do such a thing.

Especially in a bloody library.

Turning around, you glanced at the bookshelves guarding your figure, stretching to the painted ceiling. As an aspiring writer yourself, you cursed yourself for suggesting to do such an action in your temple, with the place your church and the books your Bible.

However, when the ache begins to creep over, your morality seemed to fade at first flight.

What a shame your brain was not to be listened to.

Shooting up from your chair, you nearly fell to the plush carpet, leaning against the desk. Gradually, you took a step forward, and another, searching for any secluded area among the lines upon lines of populated shelves.

“Where is it, where is it,” you mumbled to yourself, passing the Greek Literature aisle, moving further into the darker section. When you spotted the end of the library, you turned to a dim lit section of Romantic poets. “Aha!” You exclaimed, finding the place you were searching for.

This particular section has been a favourite little hiding place for Hyunjin. Recalling the memories, you always caught him here whenever the two of you played hide-and-seek, or when to comfort him here after a particularly harsh spat with his father, the late Duke of Hastings. Above all else, he found himself isolating here whenever he wished to read by your insistence, finding solace in the words of Blake and Wordsworth, picked up on the shelves.

You, on the other hand, did not come here to read.

Backing up against the wall, you let yourself fall to the lush carpet. There was barely enough space to stretch your hands apart, feeling the wall on one side, and the bookshelves with the other. It was small trouble, though, as space was not the priority — simply distance.

Thankfully, you had time — dinner would be served in about an hour, and the servants had been told not to disturb you as you ‘write’.

It was now or never.

“Lord forgive me.”

Grabbing onto your skirts, you raised them upwards, along with your petticoats. After undressing your pantalettes, your white stockings came into view, ending right above your knees, tied with baby pink ribbons.

With your underwear gone, you felt the cold caressing your dripping cunt. Immediately your fingers rushed to swipe at the arousal that pooled onto the carpet, a hiss escaping your lips. Then, moving higher, you felt the swell of your clit, and began to rub circles, so, so slowly — just like Hyunjin did, exactly like his fingers did.

The ripples of pleasure crashed over you with every swipe of your fingers. It was the most wonderful feeling, experiencing it after a span of weeks. Yes, somewhere in the back of your rational mind, you knew you looked pathetic, whining softly from your own efforts, but your desperation took over; you had been patient long enough.

Your desire, however, had no such moments to waste with such gradual rubbing, so pent up inside you that it forced you to quicken your pace. You prayed that no one heard you, for the sobs that flew out your mouth increased, playing and teasing your clit till it nearly numbed you.

The real bliss poured out when you plunged two of your fingers into you, going deeper and creating that identical pace, relished before. You closed your eyes, and images came flashing back — the midnight eyes returned, along the malicious grin, and suddenly it was not your fingers that pulled and pushed into your cunt. Your mind dared to conjure up Hyunjin, his dark laughter ringing in your ears as he curled his fingers into you, reaching a spot which had you seeing the seven heavens.

So far along, you did not care if the others heard. With your concoction before you, fingering you delirious, you called out his name. A panted “Hyunjin!” squealed out of you, the word laced with madness. How you begged for release, when it was actually in your control.

And maybe you would have come all over your fingers at that moment. Maybe that was a fantasy that would have been rewarded to you if reality had not been so unkind.

For it was reality that arranged a presence turning to his favourite hiding spot. For it was cruel, cruel reality, bringing at your secret aisle the very man who caused your current frenzy.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Sweet Duke of Hastings, who thought to surprise his wife and return home early, so he could join her at dinner this evening. Curious Duke of Hastings, who found the servants informing of your ‘work’ in the library, and so walking to you himself, expecting the distant sound of sighs and scribbles on paper.

Shocked Duke of Hastings, when he heard his name instead, being moaned at the end of his library.

His pupils dilated, gloved fingers hanging on the edge of the shelf, he grew flushed in his attire as he watched your near undoing. You whimpered his name over and over, as if that was your only comfort among the heavy sensation in your gut, the pleasure which numbed your senses. He trailed down to your sopping fingers, clumsy in their rhythm.

A shuddered breath escaped him.

It was then he let out the most self-satisfactory scoff.

That moment, you opened your eyes. Widened when they settled on your husband, face exposing an aghast expression as he crossed his arms, gaze never leaving the mess between your legs.

He had the audacity to grin wickedly.

“Oh my, sweet angel. What do we have here?”

Your entire body stilled, fingers frozen inside of you. Every ounce of strength, which tried to make you speak, abandoned ship.

Noticing clearly, a splutter of hellish laughter spilled from his lips. “All this time,” he began, feline amusement dripping in his voice. “All these lonely, lonely weeks, I was so guilty.” His boots made a soft thump against the carpets, grey longcoat fluttering after him. “I kept thinking, see, of you, so alone and unentertained. Stuck in her chambers all day and night, burning out her brain with her words. Writing of my examples.”

He unbuttoned his overcoat, pinning you with his gaze. “Little did I know you were impersonating me.”

You almost cried with shame.

“God, I doubt I can call you angel, again,” he drawled, tossing his woolen jacket behind him on a nearby chair, pulling off his gloves.

He uncovered his slender hands, continuing, “Not with your fingers still in your cunt.”

That nearly had you in tears — you yanked your digits out, making to push your skirts down in a hurry but were dutifully stopped by his raised voice.

“Pray, darling,” he inquired, and you could taste the ridicule as he stood before you, crouching down. “What do you think you are doing?”

He did not give you time to answer as he grabbed your hand, half-soiled by your endeavours. “Why have you stopped the show when the intended audience has arrived?”

All these questions messed with your senses, squeezing your thighs together as the high, threatening to undo you before, began to fade. “Hyunjin—” you said, but you were interrupted, as, with his hand, he lifted your trembling figure with ease. Legs unstable, you let him steer you until your back hit the bookshelves.

“Another notion puzzles me too.” His golden locks skirted along as he cocked his head.

“Why did you scream my name when you touched yourself?”

Your mouth parted, remembering your incessant whining. The thought caused your entire body to burn up, your husband taking instant note. “Come on, now, darling,” he taunted, grip on your hand tightening. “We both know you are more than capable of speaking.”

It was surprising how you managed to speak, despite the phantom touches.

“I…” you paused, embarrassed that you tried to tell him the truth. “I do not know...damn it!” you hissed as you saw a phantom smile accompanying his hands. “I had this...this need, Hyunjin. Everytime I recalled that night, I…all I wanted was some sort of...release.”

“Oh?” he got out, and he had to cage you with his hands for his own stability.

The thought of you, withering in pleasure — pleasure you did not realise you yearned for — had his mind transcending any sense. There he was, stirring the cauldron of desire bubbling in your veins, your face twisting in pain from your lack of knowledge.

He had to pray for forgiveness for his mentality, but at this moment in time, he only knew of one religion. You, and your wishes, whispered in panted breaths.

“If that was what you felt, then why did you not tell me?”

If it was not for his hand gripping yours, you would have covered your face. “How could I?” you whined out. “You were so busy! I could never be selfish enough to put myself before you.”

His heart nearly burst from his chest. “My darling,” he hummed, stroking away the flyaways upon your face. “Do you not realise that I put you before myself?”

Your confusion had him continuing. “If you had told me that you had such...needs, then I would have damned the work to hell.”

Suddenly, you wished you were the most selfish person in the world.

“Every wish, your every want…” his eyes promised the world. “It is mine to bring it to you.

“So tell me, angel.” His fingers lingered on your face. “What do you want?”

Alas, that fated question.

What you wanted was to tell him without doubt that you wished for his fingers inside you again. What you wanted was your husband fulfilling his promises, showing you more, more, more until you forgot your name from the sheer force.

You hated how your speech could never voice it out loud with confidence.

The man noticed your face warming beneath his touch as you stammered, “I-I want—” pausing from his fingers on your cheek, “Hyunjin, I want you to…”

Your pathetic attempts had him chuckling. “So innocent to me still?” He asked softly. “Even when I caught you moaning my name like a whore in the night?”

Whore. Sane you would have slapped him for saying such a thing, but the arousal that pooled at the term meant completely different. He was aware of your reaction, causing him to be compliant.

One day, he would voice it out of you. One day, you would say from your own mouth that you wished for ruination.

“How about this, ____?” he started. He brushed a small kiss upon your forehead, heart fluttering at the chaste action. “When you want me to stop, voice that out instead.” The next kiss was upon the tip of your nose.

You thought up a worrying confession, but when you saw his expression change, you realised you blurted it out.

“I don’t think I would want you to stop, Hyunjin.”

The molten lust in his eyes nearly undid you then and there. He offered you a low, satisfied growl, wondering how in God he could ever resist you.

“I don’t think I would be able to, angel.”

He did not say any more, swooping down and enveloping your lips with his.

You instantly accepted him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer, closing your eyes and letting him paint an artwork of desire upon your mouth. You could tell he was trying to be gentle, but your confession cracked the glasshouse of desire he had tended for so long.

His tongue was inside your mouth at once, and you relished its desperation, letting it explore all of you as his hands wandered down, your own sliding into his locks. Softer than all the silks in the land, you already felt the moans bubble within your throat, partially escaping with every parting. His heavy breathing in your ears only wished for all distance to fade.

There was so much of him, all at once — you had shared kisses with him after that fated night, but you knew those kisses were the sole form of affection he could offer in those lonely weeks. The way he bit your bottom lip, soft and then a little harder, had you losing all sense.

It was such things that made you realise how much you missed his presence.

Tearing away from your lips, he gave fevered attention to your neck, trailing his kisses down your skin, open and wet and restless. “Hyunjin—” you began, but then you gritted your teeth at the pain of his suction upon your throat. His hands pushed you further into the shelves, and a few books began to fall at the force.

“H-Hyunjin!” you exclaimed, eyes darting frantically to the classic editions that scattered on the floor. “W-wait, not here!”

The man blinked in his haze of desire, looking at you. “Huh?” he got out, spit-slick lips parted, his whole body raising from his breaths. “Why not?”

“The-the books, they...!” you tried to explain, but with the stare he offered, you quietened within moments. “...Hyunjin?”

His answer was his hand taking your wrist and turning from the secluded corner. He steered you out of the hiding place, pace hurried with each step he took. Head whirling to every aisle, he cursed under his breath, finding the spaces between the shelves filled only with books.

“What are you...searching for?!” you demanded in bated breaths, but then he let out a satisfied noise as he found an open aisle, the first line of shelves in the library.

In front of those shelves sat a large, wooden step ladder — no doubt there to grab onto the higher sectioned novels. A knowing smirk enveloped his features as he led you to where it stood, backing you against it.

A small yelp escaped you as the man hoisted you upon the steps, you holding onto his shoulders as he slithered his arms around your waist. “There,” he said, tilting his head slightly upwards. “Now you shan’t worry about your novels falling.”

“Easy for you to say!” you crowed, already feeling unstable, despite sitting on the sixth step. “This time it might be me falling!”

“Well then,” he began, tugging your legs apart till he fit snug between them, “You just have to hold on tight, don’t you?”

Oh, you were going to kill him.

Leaning forward, he halted your breath, brushing his lips across your neck. “I can stop if you wish,” he whispered on your skin. His hand rested over your chest, where it rose unevenly under his palm. When you did not answer he looked up, climbing so he levelled with your face.

You felt his heavy breathing fan your lips. “Do you want me to stop, angel?”

His eyes saw right through you — with the way a malicious smile began playing at his lips, he knew his answer long before you registered it yourself.

Head shaking hurriedly, you murmured out your response as you grabbed onto the lapels of his longcoat.

“Never.”

You pulled him down, desire taking control of your senses as he undid you with his lips. His hands, sliding down, hitching your skirts higher than before, bunching it at your waist. Never giving himself a break on your mouth, he peeled off his coat, tossing it beside the ladder. Only when you broke away to take a panted breath did he begin his descent — kisses on your neck dragged down further, along your clothed abdomen until he parted, shuffling the fabric from between your thighs.

An uneasy fuck flew from his mouth — your glistening cunt welcomed him again, the recollections of the last honeymoon night crashing back.

In truth, the events had not left his mind. The memories of his fingers playing with you, inciting those sinful sounds were the few things which brought him a high in the dark days of work. You, drenched by his efforts, dripping for him, and only him, to take care of you.

Seeing the sight before had Hyunjin restraining his cock. Fuck, he thought, leaning closer till his face was a mere inch from the center. He did not comprehend the consequences of this; what if he went crazy? A part of him was distinctly aware that if you were heavenly around his fingers, then you with his tongue would transcend reality.

Hands holding the back of your knees, he slung your legs over his shoulders, securing his fingers upon your thighs. With one last inhale, he closed the distance.

Nothing compared to his tongue running along your slit.

A hiss left you at the contact, tendrils of pleasure curling up your spine as he explored the edges of your cunt. He was teasing, being too leisured for your liking — he could not help himself, fearing he would rush the process and end it too quickly.

He wanted to be inside you the entire night.

Your incessant whining had him lapping up the wetness, gripping onto your legs a little harder as he delved in further, tasting your arousal and letting out a satisfied noise. Leaning your head back against the higher steps, your hands carded through his hair, his locks a comfort for the slow torment below.

When his tongue dove upwards, circling your clit, an obscenely loud moan tumbled out of you. He was so exceptional, so good at what he did to you, licking away at the bud as if he had not been served for days. Your whining was more encouragement for his antics, increasing his strokes with a slight curve to his lips.

What reduced you to choked gasps was an old prospect from the first night — his digits, leaving one of their spots on your leg and slipping one inside your folds. As if his tongue was not enough, that singular finger created a rhythmic pattern of plunging in and out of you.

You thrashed under his grip, hips rolling giddily along with his work. Even the ladder began to shudder, jutting slightly back and forth from your desperation. Although the squeeze on your thigh was an indication to calm down, you ignored it, too intoxicated by the thrusts of his tongue to realise his signal.

He made you realise as he paused his ministrations entirely. You nearly shrieked at the lack of his presence, but then you looked down, and found his lust-hazed eyes staring at you.

“H-Hyunjin?” You mumbled, voice raspy from your previous moaning.

The slick glazed on his lips brought you another level of high. “I need you to stay still, darling,” he voiced, slender hand gripping onto your thigh. “You even have the poor ladder shaking.”

You willingly nodded your head, knowing you were lying through your teeth. If he continued with his tongue prodding at your clit, then you would start trembling from the thrill.

“I don’t think I believe you,” he mused, blowing on your drenched cunt. Seeing you shiver had him chuckling. ”I need you to be still if you want true pleasure, sweetheart.”

An ironically chaste kiss upon the edges of your thigh gave you more reason to grip him harder. “I want you to enjoy this as much as I am.”

As much as I am.

Good, sweet Lord.

Maybe you will never move an inch again.

“K-keep going,” you whispered, near frantic as you played with his locks. “Please.”

The please at the end was exactly what he needed before he pounced into you again.

His tongue was relentless — a second finger joined in the venture, and the fullness of him was back again, with an intensity that only promised satisfaction. You knew it was coming, with the heaviness in your lower abdomen.

You needed that release. Whatever it took, it was the only image in your mind, taunting you of the relief that came with it. With the hard grip of his locks, your husband sensed it straight away, quickening his pace with both his tongue and digits.

Damn Hwang Hyunjin to Hell, for he was so unfairly good to you — licking your clit to a frenzy, touching a certain spot inside you, over and over again. He never missed, never faltered his labour as the burden inside you intensified. You sang his praise in your stained mind, hoping he could see the joy on your face.

“Hyunjin—!” You whined out, stealing a glance at his head, moving back and forth slightly between your legs. “It’s—the feeling, the one before—!”

You did not have to say anything else; his free hand, wrapping fully around your slung over leg, made you realise of his awareness. The feeling was at its peak then — one more of his stripe along your cunt, and it was over.

Fortunately for you, the Duke of Hastings kept his promises.

One little nibble of your bud, plunging in his two fingers at the same time, and it was useless. Your release came rushing through, cries escaping your lips as you undid yourself onto his mouth. All sense of surroundings abandoned you: you were drifting away, like a kite losing its roots, further and further as his fingers slowed. You feared that you would lose all sense until his tongue lapped up the release. His hums of satisfaction anchored you back into the library, hands at your hips as he heaved upwards, watching over your dazed expression.

You saw his every move, licking the remnants of your release off on his face. He then hovered closer, locks more sweat slick as they caressed your skin.

“God, angel,” he rasped out, holding your chin with his stained fingers. “You…I can’t...I can’t get enough of you.”

He stole a kiss upon your mouth, but your shy whines caused him to go deeper, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip. “Shit,” he whispered as he parted from your lips. “You must stop me, ____. I cannot take you all at once, I…no matter how much I wish, I cannot...fuck, I cannot taint you.”

And maybe it was your husband, admiring you like a poet would his muse. Maybe it was something more than the dull ache inside you, the flutter moving to your heart which had you saying the next words.

“But I...” you paused, every panted breath heavy. “I never…never asked you to stop.”

Hyunjin stilled completely before you.

His eyes were too much, but you did not stop the confession pouring out. “If...if there is something more, I…” his thumb on your chin hardened.

“I want to know. I want to see it all...even if it may taint me.”

There it was.

The thoughts which haunted you for the past few weeks. You wanted more, even if that meant that this more would one day be satiated. You wanted to see the end, the final stage, because you knew deep down, your best friend was still holding back from you.

You saw it in his eyes. You saw his unadulterated desires, dark and fearful, yet you wanted to be surrounded by his darkness.

You wanted Hwang Hyunjin to break you like he wished.

Sure enough, he saw it all over your face too. His jaw turned slack, and he debated slamming his head against the shelves to make sure he was not dreaming.

He did not think his wife would let him have a moment’s peace.

“God help you, sweet angel,” he murmured, glancing at your dress — more specifically, how to get you out of it. “I don’t think I can leave you innocent any longer.”

You parted your mouth to speak — Hyunjin was about to interrupt you, perhaps take you to the final stage of your passions.

Everything was about to descend when you heard the shrill knock on the door.

Your heart jumped out of your dress, the man above you catching onto your shock. With an unexpected burst of anger, he turned his head towards the large doors and screamed, “Who the fuck is it?!”

The servant at the opposite side flinched at the tone of voice. “Um, there is a guest in the living room, Your Grace!”

That did not help his case. “Then tell them to piss off!” The Duke demanded, holding onto you a little harder.

“But Your Grace, he urgently requests your presence!” The boy insisted. “We tried telling him of your...distractions, but he would not listen!”

Hyunjin looked like he was about to tear the manor down with his orders, and you widened your eyes, holding onto him. “It’s alright,” you reassured him, and possibly reassuring yourself too.

He glanced at you, and the frenzied stare he pinned you with shut you right up. “Fuck,” he cursed, running an angered hand through his hair, the other not leaving your side — as if you would fade from his grasp.

You feared it too, in truth, that he would disappear. The thought plagued your senses, much more than you would have liked.

“To hell with that bloody guest,” he growled, leaning into you again. He pressed his forehead against yours, cupping your face with his hands. “To hell with everyone.”

“Hyunjin,” you breathed out, relishing the contact. “Hyunjin, it’s okay…” you held his agitated stare, wondering why you were convincing him to go when you wanted him to stay. “I will be here, you know...when you come back.”

He searched your gaze for confirmation, needing to affirm your words. When he found the suppressed desire within, he could not help himself.

He planted his mouth upon yours, finding solace along the lines of your lips — he loved how your every kiss was a comfort, a sweet little sin all for him to enjoy. In honesty, he could spend an eternity basked in your warmth, but alas, reality was a villain in his tale.

Forcing himself to pull away, he ran a tender thumb along your cheek. “I shan’t take long, angel.”

You nodded tiredly, in time to the man holding your waist as he settled you back onto the carpet. Lingering for a few moments, he made himself leave your side, grabbing his coat and donning the heavy fabric. He satiated his desires with a glance towards you, dazed off with your hands clinging the ladder railing still.

A small smile catching onto his lips, he turned on his heel, promising murder to whoever disturbed the moment he dreamed of. Opening the door, he looked back, catching your stare.

The smile upon his face grew wider. A smile so sincere, so loving, with all the world’s miracles nestled upon his pretty mouth. It was a smile that you had never seen before, with all your years beside him — seeing it now had you wishing you could bottle the image and carry it with you forever.

It was a smile which had you so in love with him.

Love.

It was then your heart dropped.

Hyunjin, unaware, closed the door behind him, leaving you to your revelation.

Instantly, you clutched at your chest, heartbeat racing.

In love.

You were in...in love with Hwang Hyunjin.

“No,” you slipped out, mind rushing a mile a minute. “No, no, no, no—”

You gripped the railing harder as the hand on your heart trailed down, shivering from the phantom touches of your husband.

Hell, of the husband that you had fallen for.

One would think love was an entity writers would idolise — your own inspirations searched and indulged in all kinds of love, but you always accepted that an emotion so intense was not for women like you. Love was a rarity. Love was unconditional, strong and vivid and all-consuming.

Love, undoubtedly, was a weakness.

Your breathing turned ragged, hands reaching to clasp your head in panic.

I will be here...when you come back.

Your promise to him, before he left you to your hysteria.

Why would you ever say such a thing to him?

“Oh, no,” you kept chanting, turning over to your side, away from the door and towards the window, where night was small comfort to your nerves.

You could not let yourself succumb to a man. No matter how dear he was to you.

And if that meant staying away from your husband, then so be it.

IT WAS UTTER AGONY AVOIDING YOUR BEST FRIEND IN EVERY PASSING MOMENT.

Perhaps you should have given reasonable explanation to why you decided to distance yourself, but of course, reasonable explanation was never your forte.

Hyunjin, damn him, tried to make more effort in returning home earlier, despite his business demanding his presence with every passing day. You were almost powerless under his tender gaze, but you knew that you could not be swayed.

As if you had not fallen under his spell already.

Your only distraction was your novel, so you did just that — even with your husband in the manor, you closed yourself from everyone, writing furiously on your desk as if committing to anything else would cost your life. The flushed skin did not shy away as you wrote of your second experience, changing the events slightly so they fit your story. The memories tried to torture your mind, but you refused to submit. You could not fall for Hyunjin.

You could not fall for a man.

The duke did not realise of your avoidances, simply thinking that you evading his more heated kisses, his dangerous touches, was a result of your fatigue. He understood, knowing you worked your brain as hard as he. He was upset, obviously, when he craved your touch every waking second. For you, though, he would do anything. If that meant waiting, he would do that too.

However, your recoiling could only last so long. Your best friend knew you like the back of his hand.

He figured something was amiss when he decided to grace you with his presence one evening, expecting another show of your moans behind the door, only to have the distant scribbling of ink against paper. Entering inside, he awaited your surprise, your unadulterated joy, bracing himself to have his arms engulfed with your hug.

In reality, he received a mumble of blessing, and the continuing scribbling.

He was not trying to coax you into giving him affection. He was well aware of how hard you worked on your novel, but that day, he dearly wished you would abandon your project for just a night. Just one, single night, so he could show you how much he missed you every single moment.

Poor, unfortunate man. How was he to know that your affection was the one thing you could not give him?

Another few days into the silence, and Hyunjin had had enough.

He called to you one dinner, ushering the servants away with the flick of his hand. The dining room became all the more huge, like a lush vault, perfect for a sweet interrogation as the velvet curtains drew to a close, and the eyes of a hundred paintings focused on you. You swirled the soup with your spoon, refusing to look at him.

“Darling?”

Damn him and his endearments. “Hmm?”

The man, too, seemed to be unsure of how to talk of the subject. “Is…” he put his cutlery on the table. “Is everything...alright as of late?”

Your gaze remained rooted to your food. “Of course,” you said. “Why would I not be?”

There was a heavy silence in the room, new and uncertain between the two of you. Your friendship with the duke had never been filled with such quiet — why were you creating such awkwardness around him?

You already knew the answer.

“Do counter me if I speak incorrectly,” he began, grabbing the stem of the wine glass. “But I have noticed you to be quite...secluded.”

“I am busy, Hyunjin,” you said curtly. “I have a whole novel to edit.”

His lips twitched downwards before opening his mouth, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a small sip. “I know you do, and you know I am proud of you for it.”

Choosing to not say anything, you tried finishing off your dinner, aware that you were losing your appetite. It seemed your husband did not want to back down tonight. “____, I feel as if you are hiding something from me.”

The spoon in your hand nearly clattered in the bowl. “And why would you think that?”

“Because—!” Hyunjin paused, downing some more wine. “I do not know, but I feel as if you do not want to speak to me.”

He was too smart for his own good. “You are imagining things,” you waved him off, finding your salad fork oh so interesting in the candlelight.

“Look at me.”

His voice stopped you cold.

Your gaze scrambled to meet his, and although his command was rough, his eyes exposed a completely different emotion.

Pure concern washed over his features as he muttered, “Have I done something wrong?”

That question broke your heart.

“No, no, of course not,” you quickly said. You bit your lip in guilt, watching him sigh, almost in relief.

This was the consequences of your actions. A man who had done nothing unjust, yet was being punished. Pure shame coursed through your veins, catching the distress on his face, and you wondered whether you were being cruel. Maybe this time, your feelings were exaggerated.

If you were aware of such truths, then why could you not look your best friend in the eye?

That night, you hurried to bed, leaning on the edge in wait for him. Your thoughts were in disarray; your heart impatiently desired his return, and your brain berated you for daring to.

Truthfully, it was horrifying how you had become so dependent on someone, when your entire life you relied on the fantasies in your head. Although your revelation was every lady’s dream in society, you felt as if another burden had been dumped upon your shoulders. This time, though, this burden would last for the rest of your life.

These thoughts were your singular company, when you lay awake all night. You were acutely aware of Hyunjin slipping between the sheets, but you did not move a muscle. A small part of you knew that if you turned, you would be unable to resist his whimsical gaze and wandering touches.

So you lay rigid, only letting yourself sleep till your best friend submitted himself to oblivion.

He, too, could not bear to live like this.

The Duke of Hastings was not a fool. He had not known you for over a decade to discard you lying through your teeth. It was beyond his understanding the reasoning of your change, but it deeply disturbed his soul.

He turned in the bed, watching your back bathed in moonlight. Why would you not tell him what bothered you? What had he done wrong?

As he watched you stay rooted in one position, his thinking turned to dark corners. A realisation struck him; you started acting this way the day after he nearly took you in the library.

This alarmed him greatly — was that why you were so troubled? Were you...uncomfortable with his touch?

His heart dropped down to his gut.

If you truly detested his affection, then he would not know what to do with himself. Recently, it was all that haunted him — you, you, and a little more you, strolling through his mind as if it were your domain, creating stories underneath his eyes. It only worsened when he discovered your sweet moans, triggered by his kisses and touches. God, the very thought of you, whining his name as you touched yourself, brought him a familiar feeling amplified. So ardently he wished to taint you further.

Even thinking of the images had him clutching his pillow tighter, fingers aching to turn you over.

However, the harsh fact was that you could not bear to look at him, and he had to live with that. Questioning you was of no use.

Hyunjin only prayed that he did not scare you off.

Unfortunately for him, his prayers were not to be answered.

Days passed, and the distance grew. The man dared not say a word to you in fear you would stray further, and you dared not approach him in fear you would fall harder. It was the most abhorrent situation, and you knew you had to get away somehow.

Fate spoiled your plans when Hyunjin revealed some news.

You looked at the invitation in slight horror. “A ball?”

Scratching the back of his neck, he explained further. “When we were...interrupted that day…” he sighed a little. “It was Seungmin who was downstairs.”

“Kim Seungmin? Has he returned from the States?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “And he has decided that the first thing he wishes to do is throw a huge ball in celebration of his return.” A roll of eyes followed. “Forever the dramatist.”

You restrained your laughter. “It has been over 2 years since we met,” you wondered out loud.

“Well, you can meet him at his estate when we attend the ball.”

He felt your eyes on him as he declared his words. Awaiting your outright rejection, settling down on the chair in the living room. You watched his thighs tense under the peach trousers as he folded a leg over the other — damn him for being too attractive to refuse.

“Very well,” you only said, not ignoring the nerves which threatened to take over. They increased a little at seeing the smile on your husband’s face.

You needed to stop leading the man on. Never could you go to the ball with him.

“It is a week from now,” he added, bobbing his foot excitedly. “I shall write back in acceptance as soon as possible!”

Nodding, you returned to your reading, hoping the faux conversations were enough distraction.

A week. Seven days to somehow escape from this event, or else everyone would see you enter the ball as an official couple, and then your fate as another man’s property would be sealed.

Had he ever made you feel as such?

You did not let yourself ponder over this further. Your only objective was getting out of this invitation.

However, you were a duchess. Trying to hide yourself from London society was an unattainable feat.

The reminder had you nearly ripping the page off your book, too stressed to read on.

This became your focus of the next week, pondering over the night of the ball, scouring your mind with the possibilities which may occur at Seungmin’s estate. As the days neared, Hyunjin insisted you go shopping in search of a special ball gown, and you only obliged so you did not have to be in the same house as him. Still, if he was not there physically, his image preyed upon you in the markets, constantly reminded of his opinions and likings in every fabric you ran your hands upon.

There was no escaping him. You were disgustingly obsessed.

Purchasing everything you needed, you requested it to be charged on Hastings’ tab, a privilege awarded to you ever since your joining with the duke. You always argued that you wished to spend your own money, but he would not listen.

“But I adore spoiling you, angel,” he would merely say, and buy up half the boutique, leaving you a flustered mess. The conversations did not leave you as you bought your dresses and accessories, returning home and dreading interaction.

Excusing yourself, you shut yourself in your room once more, and wrote.

Wrote away your soul in the last days, till it was the morning of the fated event. The sun shone magnificently on your home, but failed to radiate its light on your darkened mood. You had no choice on the matter — you were to accompany Hyunjin to Seungmin’s celebrations, and that was final.

You were about to fake typhoid when a letter arrived for you.

It was from your mother; she wrote in question of your wellbeing, and how much she felt your absence in the house. The content was not very interesting, and you debated writing back with a lack of enthusiasm when you read the last section.

She mentioned tonight’s ball — more significantly, how she felt ever so lonely without you with her, “enlivening her spirits”. The praises were nothing further from the truth, but it was her confession which had an idea rushing to your head.

“Lonely without me, huh?” you murmured, as you rang a bell for a maid. Arriving, you requested for a little trunk, asking for your new dress and other adornments to be packed. “For once, Mama, you have been useful.”

The packing did not take much time, the other servants calling for a carriage as you made preparations to leave for a night. Hyunjin, making his presence known, descended down the stairs, a grin upon his face as his hand fished in his inner pockets.

When he saw your endeavours, though, his beaming flickered. “What is going on here?” he asked, refusing to look away from your luggage.

You turned to him, mustering up the bravado to face him with your decision.

“I received a letter from Mama this morning,” you explained to him in faux ease, gesturing for the servants to bring your belongings outside. “She is feeling rather lonesome, so I thought to see her.”

The man was not convinced in the slightest. “Since when did you garner sympathy for your mother?”

Never confide in your best friend again. “Please,” you stressed, holding the letters in your hands. “She still took care of me the best she could. Plus, I would never want to be lonely at that age.”

He was not listening to this explanation though, his hands going into his pockets. “When will you be back, darling?”

The endearment made this all the worse. “The morning after.”

A heavy pause instilled on the both of you before he broke it. “But...but the ball. A-are you to just...abandon the invitation altogether?”

“No!” you began, locking your hands behind your back. “No, I shall meet you at Seungmin’s estate. It is a small setback, but—”

“____, this will be our first social event as husband and wife!” he countered, you grimacing at his minor outburst. “I want you by my side when we walk down the steps!”

“But I will be there, Hyunjin!” you exclaimed. “I do not understand why you suddenly want to follow these silly traditions!”

Gritting his teeth, your friend pinned you with his stare, growing fiery the longer you held it. Traditions never interested him, but this one had been a certainty he had been looking forward to. The image of you, descending the stairs with your hand on his arm, brought him an absurd amount of joy.

But there you were, bursting his bubble of dreams.

“Why is this all coming to light today?” he muttered, taking a step towards you. “Why, on the day of the event, you decide to tell me that you would rather go with your mother, who never truly cared for you, than me?”

Than me, who always did?

You dared not answer his question truthfully — instead, you let your undeserved anger take the reins of your tongue.

“So you are already suspicious!” you snapped. “Why am I not surprised in the slightest?”

His eyes narrowed at the statement. You did not look into it further as you turned on your heel, heading towards the door. “Do not run away from me, ____!” He shouted, following after you. “Tell me what you implied from that horrendous comment!”

“Oh, let me uncover it clearly for you, dearest,” you snarled, standing at the doorway. The words which were to leave your mouth had sure consequences, but in the moment, you did not care. All you wanted then was an escape.

“You accuse me of scheming and demand me things which I do not want to give you.”

Your hand gripped the letter behind you. “You’re becoming the one thing I feared, Hyunjin. You’re turning into a typical male.”

The man froze entirely at your claims.

Did not utter a defense against him as you sighed out, glancing away from his shell-shocked eyes. You did not bid your farewells as you descended down the stairs, reigning in your temptation to look back as you made your way to your transport through the gardens.

As you slipped inside the carriage, clasping your hands in your lap, you wondered whether you had taken a step too far.

You wondered, with rising dread, whether you had broken your best friend’s heart.

MAYBE RUNNING TO YOUR MOTHER HAD NOT BEEN THE BEST OF IDEAS.

Biggest reason being that she was truly a pain in the rear. The moment your carriage had arrived on the rocky entryway of your mother’s manor, she rushed down the steps. After engulfing you with an embrace which might have caused a minor stroke, she hurried you inside, her servants bringing your possessions.

You did not particularly miss your previous abode, although it gave you small relief. You passed the familiar hallways, and settled in the nostalgic parlour room where your mother gushed over your presence.

Still, this manor did not seem like home to you.

Conversation was mostly struck from your opposite, you nearly silent as the woman vented out her frustrations of every family in London, drinking her tea and urging you to take a biscuit or two. Your stomach was void of an appetite, missing other emotions which you abandoned on the other side of the city.

By the time evening arrived, all you wished to do was hide yourself into your old room, but your mother would not accept. Having the maids open your trunk, they brought out the ball gown you had picked for the occasion.

It was a dark, seductive red, swell of its puffs cuffed with black lace — this lace scattered over the fabric, lining not only the neckline but down the chest, rose-like stitches etched onto the bust. The high-waistline also bled further black stitching, almost all over the gown as it fell to the floor, with a midnight ribbon trailing at the back.

You bit back a fevered sigh. Hyunjin would have adored this gown.

The thought had you pursing your lips, requesting the gown be pressed. Then, walking over to the dressing table, you settled yourself onto the seat, using the accessories bought previously to style yourself. With the assistance of a few maids, you managed to accentuate your hair, adding small pearls within the locks.

The ballgown came back in an instant, and you undressed yourself, waving away the girls in your room. Firstly, you slipped on a thin chemise — then, you allowed a maid to enter to help with the corset, who tightened it at the back without mercy to your body. Barely able to breathe, you loosened it slightly after the girl left, focusing your attention on the gown. After adorning the petticoats and white stockings, you adorned your attire, slowly as to not crease its fabric. Hooking the back yourself, you turned to the mirror, holding the black gloves.

There was no doubt about this countenance — it was exactly to your husband’s taste. Clamping your lips together, you donned the gloves, the silk smooth beneath your touch as you filled them to the fingertips. With one final peek at yourself, you slipped into your shoes, and left the bedroom.

You were a fool to think of any other person but your mother welcoming you at the entrance, but wishful thinking had always been your flaw. Her string of compliments had you adorning a ghost of a smile, but you did not say much as you both climbed into the carriage, instructing to journey to Seungmin’s estate.

Without a novel to distract you, you fell into a habit of clasping and unclasping your hands as you sat, waiting for the ride to be over. Your mother was small comfort as she filled the silence for you, but even her voice strained your mood — you wished for other discourse, or other meaningless entertainment.

You ached for laughter.

Whatever. This was your consequence. You must bear with it.

If your mother knew of your troubles, she certainly did not voice them out loud. She did ask of your relationship with Hyunjin, but you waved her off with false reassurances — you could not have her prying into your private life.

“I hope he has burned off your silly writing fancy!” she drawled, catching the lights of the destination flickering closer to our transport. “As a wife you have much more important duties.”

Gazing afar through the window, you spoke your truth. “Actually, Mama, he encourages it.” A small chuckle escaped you. “I think he wants me to be an author more than I do.”

“Oh?” The woman brought a hand to her chin, impressed. “That is a rare occurrence indeed.”

Catching your raised brow, she scoffed. “Do not gawk as if you are not aware of men. I am shocked he has given you freedom.”

You listened to her, watching the estate linger closer. “Child, you have found a man who does not restrict you in your passions. I do not know how you accomplished such a feat, but you must be extremely thankful.” A glance was stolen towards her. “Such husbands only exist in those books you love so much.”

Before you could comment on her statement, the carriage slowed to a stop, reaching the final stop. The footmen opened the doors, and your mother stepped out first before you followed, careful not to ruin your dress on the pathway.

The crowds had you leading inside the estate, luxury which could compete with the Duke of Hastings being exulted in every corner of the interior. Dozens of lords, ladies and other aristocrats wandered in all places of the house, your own mother being swept away by her friends in her social circle. Your presence felt less relevant with each passing second, fearing you would lose yourself in the rush of golden curtains, rose perfume and unwelcome conversation.

You thought that this ball would grant solitude, but then you heard the bright drawl of a familiar lord.

“By God, is that my dear bookworm I see before me?”

Jumping from the voice, you whirled on your heel. A surprised smile caught on your face.

“Seungmin?”

The said-man returned your shock with a mischievous grin. Lord Kim Seungmin changed greatly since the last time you saw him — what was once thinned, pale cheekbones were now full and golden, amplifying his eye-smile, which he did not lose in the Americas. He was adorned in navy blue, contrasting with his off-coloured pants, black hair styled effortlessly away from his forehead.

“My goodness!” he began, strolling over to you with his mahogany cane. “Even after two years you upkeep your radiance.”

“You flatter me,” you said as your smile widened. “You certainly have changed. I adore the tan!”

“I fear you are the sole admirer,” he confided, narrowing his gaze at his incoming guests. “As if I wish to look like a ghost among men!”

“You have earned my approval, at least,” you complimented in earnest. “Not that it would matter much.”

Seungmin scoffed at your comment. “Says one of the most affluent women in the country! When were you going to tell me you were Hyunjin’s bride?”

Your irritation sparked as your heartbeat raced. “It was very recent, I admit. I would have sent word, but it would not have reached you.”

“I daresay I am not surprised.”

You peered at him, then. “No?”

He gave you an incredulous look. “My dear, everyone anticipated the occasion. Only you were clueless to the possibility.”

Gritting your teeth, you jabbed him with your hand, causing him to chuckle. “Ow! I was hoping you would mature by this time! No doubt your duke encourages this!”

Preferring to stay silent on the matter, Seungmin continued on the subject, making it difficult. “Where is he, by the way? Gossip tells me it is your first ball as a couple.”

“Is he not here?” A shake of his head had your nerves creeping back. “Oh, um, my mother was alone, so I thought to accompany her instead.”

You nearly grimaced at his callous features. “How bizarre,” he murmured. He then offered you his arm. “If so, then allow me to accompany you in his absence.”

Accepting his arm, he helped you navigate your ways through the huge foyer, the grand stairs welcoming you two as dozens upon dozens of aristocrats came into view — the host nodded his head in greeting at every passerby, leading you down each step, until your feet landed on the floor of the ballroom.

Examining the area, you marvelled at the pastels colouring each wall, corner and crevice of the vast space in the room. Sweet music filled the air, and murmurs of many ladies and gentlemen resonated everywhere around you, growing louder as their eyes rested on you, your sensual attire, and the lack of husband on your arm.

“How about a dance, Duchess?” Seungmin asked you as he brought you closer to the center.

Instantly you shook your head, stopping in your tracks. “No,” you refused, tugging on his arm. “I have no wish for dancing this evening.”

“As if you ever have,” he mused, earning your glare. “I presume you await for your beau? Everyone knows you dance first with him.”

A sharp breath exhaled from your nose. “Nevermind that, just take me where the cakes are.”

Laughter spilled from his lips, stirring you to the refreshments. “As you wish, ____.”

Making your way through the guests, you finally ended up where the food resided, tables lined from one corner of the room to the other, flanked in every type of nourishment. Your gaze found stands of cakes, and you left your hand on your friend’s arm, raised towards the deserts. As soon as a servant handed you a plate, the chocolate cake was in your hold.

“Honestly,” the host started, as you cut a piece with a fork, digging straight in. “And they call you the pinnacle of grace!”

“Who in heaven said that?” you asked, baffled as you ate another small piece. Seungmin, snapping his fingers, brought a tray of champagne over to you. Picking up two flutes, you began, “For me?”

Downing the first, he offered you a grin. “What made you think that?” he replied, already sipping the second. “My party, my alcohol.”

This time you giggled at his demeanour, he handing you a drink as you finished your cake. The bubbly goodness was welcomed, warming you up and calming your senses.

After the third glass, the champagne-induced man let out a huge sigh. “Right!” he exclaimed, propping the glasses on the table beside you. “I must find myself a pretty lady to dance with.”

“Do try to stay on your feet, Seungmin,” you said, raising your flute in toast.

“No promises!” he merely countered, disappearing into the crowd.

Your smile faded at the isolation which hit.

There you were — hundreds of people surrounding you, many potential partners to dance with, yet there you were, hand not in another hand but wrapped around your alcohol.

You could not blame a single soul. This was all your doing.

That had you consuming the champagne to the last drop.

At least there was some form of relief in this ball, as you watched Seungmin and about a dozen couples form a circle at the center of the room. With the first opening of the music the host led his partner, all the others following suit.

Watching the waltz had you remembering the last dance, the fateful night where this union came into fruition. Your friend’s smile, his hand on another’s waist, all these images reflected the very same you experienced many weeks before.

You bit the inside of your cheek, reminiscing deeper and deeper. You hated how every fibre of your body ached for his presence. The worst part was that it was not mere lust, or the carnal desire which erupted at his thought.

You longed for him — his banter, his mischievous eyes, and his rather heart-wrenching smile.

The music heightened, the climax of the dance falling on the ball room as Seungmin whirled and whirled his partner, a string of giggles faintly heard from the crowd. When he twirled her one last time, he caught her instantly, at perfect harmony with the ending of the sweet melody.

Applause scattered across the hall as the couples bowed to each other.

A curse escaped you then.

There was simply no doubt of your feelings — avoiding him could never be the solution.

This revelation may have arrived at the perfect time.

Because, as the music played once more, a figure emerged at the entrance.

The murmurs, one by one like a slow wave, died down as they caught sight of him, gazes shocked.

Sipping your champagne, quite puzzled, you turned to the origins for this change of atmosphere.

Every atom in your body stilled.

Froze completely at the sight which stood at the foot of the steps.

You were unable to suppress his name.

“Hyunjin.”

It was as if, by a miracle, he heard your shivered whisper — his eyes skimmed the crowd, frantic beneath the calm.

They found you in the chaos.

Your very breath disappeared from your lungs.

Hwang Hyunjin looked like the devil’s greatest fantasy; as if he stole the night and imprisoned it in his attire. He was adorned in lustrous black, waistcoat patterned with red swirls of velvet. His collar was slightly ruffled, cravat of midnight as it barely brushed against his chin. His tailcoat somewhat glistened in the chandelier light, dark leather boots still as he stood before the hall.

His greatest change was his hair. Once golden like the lights of heaven, it was now as black as the underworld. Half of the locks were swept up in a ponytail, the rest curling at his shoulders.

The flute nearly dropped from your hands.

Seungmin, finding his friend on the steps, burst into a smile. “Hastings!” he broke through the silence with enthusiasm. With his voice the crowd fell into frenzied discourse, the host making his way through his guests, strolling towards the new arrival. “By God, it has been too long!”

Hyunjin hummed, not particularly interested in what he had to say. His gaze from you did not stray for a heartbeat. Seungmin, catching on, wrapped a hand around his friend’s shoulder. “I see you only came for one person,” he said, leading him to where you stood.

Champagne was not the only substance which heated you further, cheeks growing warmer the closer he walked over to you. Every move he emitted exuded sensuality, as if his bones were made of silk.

You let yourself to a third serving when he stopped before you, Seungmin clapping his hands together in excitement. “Look at the two of you!” he proclaimed. “Your clothes match so perfectly!”

Sure enough, both of you adorned the same hues of dark reds and raven blacks. You felt his eyes rake over you, and you restrained to not do the same, lest you let more than your stare wander. “I always knew you two were right for each other,” your friend continued, grabbing his fourth flute, drinking away in glee. “I am overjoyed to see that you both see it.”

Something cold swirled in your husband’s stare, and you ran a finger along the empty glass, embarrassed to hear such genuinity. “Hyunjin, the second waltz is about to start.” He gestured his flute towards you. “I know you always dance with each other first.”

The duke’s eyes flickered to the host for a mere second before pinning on you again. “I have no desire for dancing tonight.”

You had trouble downing your drink. “How strange...” Seungmin noted, darting between the couple. “Your wife here said the same thing not an hour ago.”

“Did she now?”

The silence that followed was quite unbearable. Even your friend was unimpressed, offering Hyunjin a drink from the waiters nearby. “Oh, you both are such bores! Maybe marriage is not the solution after all.”

You dared not look at him then, fiddling with your black ribbon. “I need to get drunk!” the host declared, tutting his head at the tension created. “I will come again when you two stop being so bloody shy.”

Shy would not be the most accurate term, but Seungmin was too intoxicated to care. He strolled to compliment a gathering of ladies within your radius, which left you with the one man you feared to be alone with.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Hwang Hyunjin, in his changed, midnight glory, watching you with an indecipherable intensity. Creating the wildest butterflies ever felt inside your body.

You did not know where to start.

The man did not understand where to begin either, tongue at loss for words. There were too many words to spill, too many feelings left constricted.

He wished to say something, but his senses had failed him. So, much like you, he stayed silent, wondering if the two of you would ever break this barrier.

Even then, he could not help but linger closer, leaning against the lush walls of the room, right beside you. His presence was a blessing and a curse at the same time.

Tailcoat brushing against your skirts, he examined the ballroom along with you, itching to reach for your hand. He would never really, but in that moment, you were beyond tempting.

You see, he had no idea what you would wear tonight, and after the spat at Lansdowne, he yearned for change — hence the raven hair and darkened clothing, so unlike his usual pastel attire. He did not even think that you would attend the ball in fear of his presence, but seeing you before him, engulfed in his favourite colours…

He would have damned society and taken you in this very hall.

Daringly, he let himself wonder whether you felt the same — he heard your shocked murmur when he arrived, and the further shocked stare which made him ever so smug. If only you would let him do something about it.

If only you would let him ease this tension before it spiralled out of control.

His thoughts were rudely interrupted as Seungmin came stumbling back, alcohol, swishing back and forth in his new glass as he giggled at his guests. “Dear friends!” he broke out, hands raised, some of the drink accidentally slipping out. “Oh, forgive me, gentlemen!”

You heard Hyunjin sigh beside you as he held his own hands out to steady his friend. “Steady now, man!” he warned. The drunkard only chortled, foot stepping onto your dress.

“You should not have drank so much!” you scolded, raising your skirts. Glimpses of your stockings came into display, and Seungmin shrieked.

“Careful duchesh!” he slurred excitedly, leaning right into you and wiggling the glass as if it were a finger. Unfortunately, he had little control over how hard he shook his alcohol, and it all spilled over.

Right onto your white stockings.

Yelping, you saw the middle part stain in pinkish-red, murking the material with every drop landing. “Seungmin!” you yelled in agitation.

“Oh bollocksh!” he cursed, causing a few gasps around the hearing radius. “I apologishe, dear, so very very much—”

Hyunjin, witnessing the scene, stopped a nearby servant. “Please tend to your master, here,” he ordered, pointing towards Seungmin begging for your forgiveness. Nodding, the boy took the host away, the latter hiccuping as he asked for more wine. “And do not give him any more to drink!” the duke added.

Focusing on you, he rushed over, assessing the mess made. “Damn fool has spilled quite a bit.” Whirling his head to any exits, he spotted a dark hallway, remembering the route of the estate. “Come with me.”

You glanced at him, frantic. “Where to?”

He did not answer fully as he wrapped a hand around your waist, almost making you forget that you had wine spilled over you. “Seungmin has many spare rooms,” he explained, leading you out of the ballroom. Thankfully, the crowd was too occupied in preparing for the second waltz to care for the distressed couple.

Keeping your skirts raised, you managed to keep your gown safe from spillage as Hyunjin led you down the less crowded hallways, depictions of the Kim family painted on the walls. “Ah!” He got out, reaching to a familiar room as he opened it, ushering you inside. “This is where I usually reside whenever I stay at the estate.”

The room was basked in dark, velvety colours, perfect for the man next to you. Lush carpet underneath, the huge bed, nestled at the wall at your right had its curtains drawn, revealing glistening indigo sheets, matching the framing of the bedroom. Dressing tables, wardrobes and the like were furnished at each corner, your focus drifting back to the dweller.

There was barely any light, save for the oil lamp sparked to life by his match. Setting it to the side of the bed, it brought much more life to the room, previously engulfed in mystery.

Without the upheaval, the space was basked in silence. You realised the hand on your back was sorely missed, and Hyunjin, standing a few feet away, clenched and unclenched that very hand, yearning for his fingers upon you once more.

But the two of you kept playing that little game of keeping quiet. Sooner or later, one of you will have enough of this sickening ploy.

Groaning, you walked over to the edge of the bed, kicking your heels off as you saw your stockings, fully stained. “Damn it,” you muttered, promising Seungmin murder.

Another few minutes of your grumbling, and he had had enough.

“Maybe I can be of assistance.”

Perking up, you found Hyunjin, walking slowly to you, hands fumbling in his coat pockets. After a few seconds of rummaging, he brought out a package, tied with red string.

You raised a brow. “What is this?”

“Open it,” he merely said, taking a step closer as he held it before you.

Hesitantly accepting, you tugged on the end of the bow, unraveling the tie. You did not forget the stare which rested on you the entire time you opened the wrappings.

When the paper unfurled, you examined the contents.

Before you were a folded pair of black stockings.

A soft exhale escaped as you beheld the present, the midnight silk soft to the touch, already aware of its rich feel. You delved in further, and uncovered white ribbons at the top, for tightening their grip.

“How…” you trailed off, dumbfounded at the coincidence. “How did you…?”

“No, no, this was…” he locked his hands behind his back. “Something I was supposed to give you this morning.”

“Oh.” This morning. When you two had that particularly nasty fight. “I see.”

You glanced down at the present again. Hyunjin had proven, once again, how refined his taste was. “I have never seen such exceptional detail on stockings before.” Discarding the paper at your feet, you ran your thumb across the material. “I doubt this suits me at all.”

There was a pause at that.

You knew there was something he wanted to say. The way his jaw ticked, the boot lightly tapping on the floor — he was bursting to add a comment which may be a risk, considering the circumstance of your relations.

Allowing yourself to be the first to dare, you peered up at him. The curiosity, explicit in your eyes, had him clearing his throat.

His hesitancy faded. “Show me, then.”

Catching the ferocity in his stare, you swallowed, hand at your skirts. “If…if you wish.”

And that was all he needed to begin.

You watched as the man descended on his knees, lingering upon you until he looked down, revealing your white-clad legs the further you raised your gown. You stopped before the ends, holding onto your skirts and petticoats as if your life depended on it.

Hyunjin’s gaze did not waver as his hand raised forward, finding themselves upon the bow at the top of the stockings as the other gently held your ankle. Untying the ribbon, he hooked his fingers under the tight fabric, your skin brushing against his knuckles. Slowly, he pulled down the stocking, uncovering your skin before him under the dim lamp light. When it bunched up, his hand at your ankle stretched the ends of fabric, sliding the stocking right off.

Discarding it behind him, he repeated the unveiling on the other leg. He noticed your skin heating underneath his touch, and he dared not expose his growing delight.

Once the other half slid off, joining its partner, a hand raised in front of you. You stared at him in dazed confusion, and his fingers curled, save for the pointer directed at your present.

“The stockings, darling.”

The endearment had you falling short — his caresses on your shin brought you back to consciousness, your hand beyond your control as it handed the gift to him. Taking it, he put one of them beside him, bunching the other with his hands till he directed the entrance to your foot on his lap.

Slipping them on, he worked his way upon your heel; his hands were slow, fingers softer than the silk beginning to cover your leg. Every fleeting touch had small shockwaves coursing up your body, as if it was the first time he laid his hands on you. How were you so unaccustomed to his caresses still?

Maybe because he knew how to agonise you.

When reaching above your knee, he brought the ends of the stocking to your thigh. His fingers fell to the ribbon dangling from the underside and, with the utmost care, began to tie the two pieces together, forming a pretty red bow.

As he closed the pattern, he tightened the bow, securing the fabric — snuffing out any possibility for the fabric to fall.

He then continued on the other leg, gaze flickering from your legs to your face. He caught every laboured breath you released, every flutter of your eyes slipping you in and out of a daze. His fingers were slower still, as if he never wanted this to stop. The stockings were like a second skin, adding a lustre to your legs the more he covered you with it.

Sliding over your knee for the last time, he held onto the blood-coloured ribbons. Fingers skimming against silk-stained skin, he tied another perfect bow, tightening it at the ends.

All done.

His gaze lingered on the bows, the sliver of skin past your thighs. His hands too, refused to leave your legs.

It was then his eyes flicked upward — right into yours.

You caught every swirl of desire residing inside.

Every little detail etched on his face was stained with lustful anguish, suppressed hunger of things you dared not imagine. You held onto your skirts with more force, afraid you would lose strength in your hands.

Hyunjin’s hands, however, had no such troubles.

For they began to carry out his wishes — they slid upwards, past the stockings and upon your upper thighs, spreading them enough to slip himself between your legs. This alone had you near crumbling for him, but his eyes asked for more. Even with the dim light, you had never seen a man so beautiful in agony.

You wondered whether he was going to say anything. Silence was a giver of many answers, but the questions you held could only be answered by his lulling whispers. Despite protest, you willed your hands beside you, clutching the sheets, waiting for him to tear your soul in pieces.

Finally, the Duke of Hastings parted his mouth.

“One word, angel.”

He squeezed your thighs softly.

“One word, and I will never torment you with my presence again.”

A bated breath escaped you.

It was much too late for that. Hyunjin had already tormented you, had done so ever since your fateful realisation, and you knew he would do so for the rest of your life. It would hardly matter whether he was oceans apart or a hair’s breadth close — him, and everything he represented, was complete and utter affliction.

Such a shame that he was a torment you would sacrifice everything to be around every day. Such a horrible, horrible shame that Hwang Hyunjin was a presence you loved more than you could let on.

Hence was the reason you did not answer him with words. What you wished to say was much too vulnerable.

No, you answered him in actions — replied with your hands raising to clasp his face, leaning down to envelope your lips with his.

You were surprised to hear a pained moan leave his mouth, and you realised that was the sound of pure, heart-breaking relief. Instantly his hands travelled further as he kissed you back with twice the fervour, hands sliding to grip your waist. Pulling you to him, he erased any distance between you, delving deeper into your mouth. He shuddered at how he went so long without your tongue swirling along with his, like parting from a lost companion.

Fingers sliding to his neck, you welcomed his enthusiasm, his desperation which heightened with every searing touch, every soft bite of his teeth against your lips. He broke away, peppering open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, eliciting the sweetest whining from you.

“...missed you,” he murmured on your skin, sending chills down your body as he kissed the edges of your dress's neckline. “I...missed you so much.”

“Hyunjin—” you began, wanting to say that you yearned for him, but the words on your tongue faded when his fingers bunched up the skirts of your gown, hitching it higher until the midnight stockings were back in view — he did not stop there, pushing the fabric further till it bunched at your waist, along with the petticoats. His hurried hands pulled down your underthings, sliding them right off your legs, discarding them behind them.

Seeing your cunt glistening in the lamplight nearly broke him.

“I—God,” he breathed out, hands spreading your legs apart. An aching whine escaped you at the action, the cool night air caressing your inner thighs. “Angel, tell me...we do not have to do this.” He glanced up at you, and the madness residing in his eyes infected your soul.

Maybe madness was the only reason you damned the consequences.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

Hyunjin licked his lips before blessing you with his closure.

The first stripe across your slit set you on fire.

A soft groan through your mouth at the familiar sensation, the overbearing feeling of being ascended far away from this obscure bedroom. He had always worked wonders, but this time, the languor had faded, desire hardening his tongue against your folds. He pulled on your legs, sending his face further into your cunt, and you yelped at the ferocity of his actions.

There was no denying it — the man had grown frantic without you.

Swiping in the arousal coating along your slit, a satisfied hum escaped him as he travelled upwards, your seething more encouragement. He struck gold as he found your clit, circling his tongue along the bud, rendering you helpless as you moaned without shame. You cared little if the guests heard you beyond the door, your husband making it too hard to contain yourself.

Perhaps you would have survived his treatment if he did not leave one of his hands upon your leg, trailing up your thigh. He slipped in not one, but two fingers straight inside, and your voice raised an octave — the gradual rhythm of his digits had that overflowing feeling creeping over you all over again. Your grip on his half-ponytail tightened, pleading for him to give you mercy, but the man was relentless, never opting for a break in his devouring.

“Damn it, please—” you grated out, instinctively rolling your hips against his face. The edge of the bed seemed more like the edge of the world. “Wh-whatever you do—”

You did not finish as Hyunjin squeezed your thigh, and you knew then in your dazed mind — a certainty that he understood.

Within moments his pace quickened, fuelling the spark of nerves which swirled in your gut, threatening to overtake you. Teething your clit softly, then swirling his tongue along, you knew that if he carried on, he would break you on this bed. Something within you felt as if that was his was his very purpose.

Why the thought thrilled you, you would never know.

His rapid fingers and sensual tongue working harmoniously finally got through to you, as, with a whimpering cry, you came all over him, closing your eyes as spots of white stained your mind. You felt his ministrations slow, a small kiss gifted upon your sensitive clit before his lips pulled away. Other hand brushing across your leg, he soothed you from the high you experienced, whispers of his lilting voice perking you from your stupor.

“Hyunjin?” you quietly called, gazing at his lust-struck face. He did not look away as he brought the finger to his lips, sucking away at your residue.

You did not think you could ever get used to this image.

“Yes, angel?” he rasped out, straightening on his knees so his head nearly levelled with yours.

Catching the implications within your eyes, his own widened slightly.

“More?” he let himself wonder, and when you nodded much too desperately, he realised he had done it.

All he needed was for you to voice it.

“Oh, my sweet little darling,” he whispered, taking one of your gloved hands. Slowly, he slid off the long gloves, repeating the same for the other. “This time, I cannot let you off.

His hands then clasped yours. “This time...I need you to say what you want for me.”

The declaration would have had you closing your legs in embarrassment if your husband was not between them. Not even embarrassment for what he said but...the idea of you wanting to completely oblige it.

Look at you — a few months ago, you possessed not a single inclination of what he suggested; what he asked for, what he so direly wanted you to say. The woman before this one would have rather buried herself under the earth than admit such desire for a man.

The Duke of Hastings, though, brought her out from her underground retreat, and revealed to her all that she was capable of. He showed her what everyone was so afraid to even talk about, and made you addicted to what was forbidden.

A dire shame you wanted Hyunjin to keep you intoxicated for the rest of your life.

You faced him once and for all. Asked him for the one thing which you never thought imaginable.

“Show me...all of it.”

Your hands travelled to his shoulders, keeping him close.

“Show me everything.”

If there was a way to bottle this moment and hang it on the walls of his heart, Hyunjin would have jumped at the chance.

Had he defiled you, after so long? Had he slipped his dirty fantasies into your mind, tainted you with his infatuation?

The answers to his questions were found upon your lips. He collided his own against yours as he gathered you up in his arms, standing up and taking you with him.

Your legs would have given way if we’re not for him keeping his grip — a grip which wandered upwards, catching the little metal hooks of your dress. He thrust his tongue inside your mouth, and the harsh frenzy delighted you, welcoming all of it as you opened for him wider. A shuddered breath escaped you at the hooks being undone by his hands, one by one till you felt your gown loosen.

At the last hook, Hyunjin pulled the sleeves off your arms, and the dress fell to the floor, leaving you with your corset and petticoats. You were caught off guard when he swivelled you around, you feeling the tugs of lace being unravelled with each pull of his fingers. The kisses did not cease, being rewarded at the crook of your neck. Each caress of his lips sent shivers down your spine — more so when he eased off the corset from your body, tugging off your petticoats along with it.

All that was left was a thin, loose chemise, everything shown clearly beneath the white veil of its fabric. The man turned you to face him again, and his gaze turned molten at the sight that welcomed him. Taking your lips in his, he ripped off his own attire — the long coat, waistcoats, every piece from the waist up being discarded. He had to break away for a moment to take his shirt off, and you caught the sight of his lean figure, turned golden in the light.

You could not help reaching out, running your curious fingers against his skin, soft and warm beneath your touch. He dared not speak, fearing you would take away your hand, but that was the last thing you wanted to do.

Tonight, you did not want distance — and neither did he.

Kissing you again, he pulled the lace in front of your chemise, loosening the attire until, with wandering hands, he dropped the last layer you upheld. Slowly, never leaving your lips, he backed you against the bed, holding you steady as he laid you upon the sheets. You never let go of him, aching to take all of him in your mouth, taste his very soul till it was the only thing that remained on your tongue.

“Fuck—” a curse escaped him as he broke away, catching the swelling of your lips. His gaze trailed downwards, upon your breasts which perked at the sight. “You’re so—so beautiful, I—”

Trails of open-mouthed kisses attacked you after, falling upon your breasts where Hyunjin began swiping his tongue along the nipple. The foreign wave of pleasure had you ripping out the most atrocious moan, caring less if the whole manor were to hear.

While his tongue played with you, his fingers worked at his trousers, unbuckling his belt as he peeled off the clothing, tossing it to the ever growing pile. You craned your head forward, glancing at the bulge near bursting from his underwear. A quivering sigh escaped you, rendering louder by the quickening of his actions.

Getting rid of his underwear, his cock sprung free, and you were surprised you had not passed out from the mere sight, red and angry and too bloody big. You could not stop staring, hard to believe that a man could possess such...such substantial anatomy.

“Like what you see, angel?” Your husband mused, leaving his place upon your nipple. Flustered, you tried to look away, but it was no use, when the man caught your chin with his fingers. “I’m surprised you can be shy even now.”

That did not help with your situation, causing you to heat drastically beneath his touch. Chuckling, he dropped a little kiss upon your nose before resting his forehead against yours.

Grasping his cock, he levelled it against your leaking cunt, the head teasing your folds. Even the small action had you seething, the warm residue sending shockwaves across your body. You held onto his neck, fearing you would lose yourself if you dared not hold onto him.

His midnight eyes turned to yours, noses brushing. “This may hurt for a second, ____,” he confessed, voice barely a murmur. “But I promise I will make that second up to you.”

Nodding slightly, you watched only him as his gaze travelled downwards. Fear threatened to take over, but one look at your husband, and it all faded.

With a final prayer to the heavens, Hyunjin began his descent.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his cock slid into your cunt. A heightened whine bubbled up to your throat, and you let it free with each inch that entered, terrified that this man could break you with what he slipped inside you. Your walls tightened with its entrance, and the more you voiced out the more he tended, peppering sweet kisses upon your cheeks.

You did not know how long it was till he stopped, letting you adjust to him inside you. Your eyes threatened to bulge out of their sockets, yet your husband was a huge comfort, circling smooth strokes upon your hip with his thumb, holding your face as he held the universe in his hands.

Breathing deeply, he glanced at you — a nod was your response to his consoling gaze, knowing what he meant.

With that, the duke began to pull out.

He was slow, just as he was when he first entered you. He was gradual, languid, and the terror that haunted you was replaced with a new, different kind of high.

You had never felt something so pleasurable.

You revealed your surprise to Hyunjin, stare glistening at the foreign sensation — your entire body was up in the clouds, relishing the slow withdrawal and the skill he brought in the bedroom. You were so sure that he was terrified too, scared of ruining this, but all you could feel was pure, unadulterated delight.

When the head reached the beginning of your folds once again, you thought that this was it — there was no more to be done, and your contentment was short-lived.

However, your husband surprised you as he slid inside you once again.

This time, there was a slight increase of pace, and it kept getting better, your feelings heightening with each passing second as he dipped further into you. He was so unbelievably good, knowing just how to make you whimper — God, his gaze was enough to undo you, ablaze with all the hellfire from the underworld. The devil worked hard, but Hyunjin worked overtime, bottoming out into you once more.

From that point on, your bodies began to move in sync, you giddily moving your hips along with his, aching to have him inside the whole time. Your hands carded through his velvety locks, taking out the ribbons so his hair fell all about him, curtailing his face as he rocked back and forth upon you. By God, he was so exquisite, something straight out of an artist movement, despite the sweat beading down his forehead, despite the parted mouth, the slight panting.

“H-Hyunjin—” you began, interrupted by another sharp moan from his efforts. “Hyunjin, I think I’m close—”

This time, you were interrupted by his lips upon your neck, teething love bites everywhere upon your skin. He hummed against you at your warning, and thrusted his cock into you. The head reached a certain spot which had you seeing seventh heaven, seeing truth and peace and everything in between, because fuck, he knew where to strike.

You did not know how long it had been till you felt yourself dizzying, the feeling in your lower abdomen warning you of its leash snapping. Hyunjin, aware that you were close, only brought his fingers to your clit, prodding at the bud till tears stung your eyes.

“I...fuck, angel—!” He gasped between thrusts, pressing sloppy kisses upon your lips. “Look at you, all...all messed up from my cock!”

Heightened wailing was your response, broken murmurs being spewed from your lips. Hastily the man shook his head, revelling in your utter ruination.

“Ah—! Come on now!” he cooed in his husky rasp, holding onto your head. “Say it for me, darling.”

A part of you did not think you could manage, but you had to if it meant he would bring you relief. The duke may have been the love of your life, but he was still, undoubtedly, a smug bastard.

Despite that, you could not believe how easily you resorted to begging.

“Please, Hyunjin!” You pleaded in half-pants, the tears spilling when he delved into that one particular spot again. “Make me do—whatever the hell I do, damn it!”

Huffing out a small laugh, the man held onto you a little tighter, retaining his grin. “Oh, ____,” he said, and the next words slipped out in his haze of lust, not realising he had revealed something of terrible importance.

After planting another disheveled kiss, he murmured, “You are so lucky that I love you.”

You did not have time for this declaration to settle before your husband obliged you in the best possible way; his thrusting turned erratic, fast and uneven, and the increased pace of his fingers was too much, all at once.

You had no choice but to let out a cry as you spilled onto him — some escaped from your walls and stained the sheets, whimpering breaths keeping you alive. His ministrations slowed as well, fingers stopping at your clit.

Watching you undo yourself for him was certainly the last straw for him — for the first time he released into you, grunting at the impact. Parts of his orgasm, too, sullied the sheets, but that was the least of his concerns, as he held onto you for dear life, nearly shattering his entire self upon you.

Pulling out of you, he collapsed beside you on the bed, his deep breaths breaking the silence. You, too, panted for a while, gazing up at the dark ceiling.

You expected your first thought to be utter delight at your first time. You had finally done what no one in polite society ever told you about, and it was so wonderful that you doubt anyone would have shared in your fortune.

However, your mind was occupied with another matter entirely.

You are lucky that I love you.

You closed your eyes.

Hyunjin loved you. Hwang Hyunjin, your best friend and husband, loved you when you thought it impossible.

Something within you then wondered if it was too good to be true.

“____?”

Noticing your name, you turned, finding the very man staring at you — in a way which would have your theories proven true. You did not know about yourself, but seeing him before you, black locks disheveled, skin glistening from sweat, you could not deny that anyone would fall for him if they saw him now.

You tried to push your emotions past you, blinking back a bit of fatigue. “Yes?”

“Tell me what goes on in that mind of yours.” Turning over, he propped his arm, holding his head in his hand. “Are you alright?”

Perhaps you should have opted for a vague yes, but something in you did not want to beat around the bush anymore. You wished to tell him your truth.

“I was wondering about what you said,” you began, reflecting his position.

“I have said many things, darling,” the man drawled. “What do you specifically mean?”

“Well…” you tried to avoid his gaze, but you knew by now that evading Hyunjin was useless. “Before I...you know…”

“Know what?” He mused, which had you rolling your eyes.

“You know what I mean!” Sighing, you continued, constantly looking at his features. “Well, just before that, you said something to me...is it true?”

Silence fell on the room as your husband pondered at your question. His eyebrows raised, and you realised that he had figured it out.

“Ah, yes,” he said, nodding. “I know exactly what you speak of.”

You waited for his response, suddenly aware of how naked you were in this bedroom. Dread curled at your stomach, and you debated grabbing the sheets and sneaking out of the manor.

That is when Hyunjin gave you his answer. Gave it to you as he took your hand in both of his, pinning you with a stare he reserved only for you.

“They are the truest words I have spoken.”

He leaned into you, and your heart fluttered, much more dramatically now because of what he revealed.

A soul-saving smile adorned his lips. “Despite our circumstances, it was inevitable that I would fall, and I thank the heavens that I did. I love you, ____, even if you cannot return the feeling. I love you as the friend I never had.

“I love you because you are the most inspirational woman I have ever had the pleasure to meet.”

When he finished, you wondered whether you had the words to respond to a confession as heart-wrenching as the one your husband blessed you with. Tears pricked the corners of your vision, and you leaned into his hands which cupped your face.

Brushing his lips against yours, you willingly accepted, giving him all the affection you garnered within you for so long. The tears trailed down your cheeks, and you had to pull away, hands curling at his locks.

“I-I…” you sniffled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Hyunjin, I-I love you so much—”

The man’s heart burst from his chest.

His rashness got the better of him, interrupting you with a searing kiss as he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip.

Never in his lust-hazed mind did he foresee you reciprocating his affection.

He was ready to spend eternity in a one-sided relationship. He was ready to stomach the melancholy you brought if you were to fall for another, or if you simply never loved at all, blankly living your life without any form of affection to give.

But…to have you fall for him.

What he said to you was wrong.

You were not lucky that he loved you.

He was lucky that you loved him.

So the Duke of Hastings, pulling the clean sheets upwards, showed you how lucky he was, deepening the kiss and you offering all of you again, moving your lips along with his.

And in this night, the two of you made another revelation — that perhaps reality was not the villain in the both of yours tales after all.

THE DAYS AFTER THE BALL WERE NOTHING BUT EUPHORIA.

You wondered whether it was all a dream, with the happiness that followed without any strings attached.

The passionate endeavours between the two of you did not stop at Seungmin’s manor — hands wandered in the carriage back home, and the moment you stepped at Lansdowne, Hyunjin backed you against the wall and ripped your dress right off, never wanting to stop ravishing you. You did not stop him, did not want to stop him, when you waited so long for him to engulf you without any barriers. By the time you both stopped in the shy hours of dawn, you had been drained of all physical strength, but filled with mental joy.

You fell in love with Hwang Hyunjin, and had the fortune of this love reciprocated.

Sometimes, you wondered if it was all a dream — a twisted, subliminal illusion, tricking you into believing that marital life is what every writer writes of in the end, the solution filled with flowers and sweet kisses. You never thought, even in your wildest dreams, that you could achieve such bliss with another.

Then, you would wake up with your husband’s arms around you, and finally understand. Finally comprehend what it meant, to never stray from a soul connected with yours.

The weeks after also brought the finishing of your novel, your childhood dream all polished in your hands as you took it to the most famous publishers in town. You had fears of the reactions, as what you wrote during certain parts of the novel was borderline scandalous, but the men at the publishing house enjoyed the first few chapters you showed them, and asked for more on the next visit.

You were overjoyed by their reaction, but then doubt entered your mind at once — what if they were only agreeable to your writing because of your position?

The thought soured your happiness. You did not want to be a writer because of your position in society, but because of your skill. There may have been thousands of other women with talents surpassing yours, but would never be able to achieve even the interest of a publisher.

Hyunjin was the first to know of your news, and the worries which accompanied it. He listened to you on your second, third visits, scoffing at your disbelief of your turn of events. It was ridiculous in his mind how ardently you doubted yourself, waving off the publishers’ interests in your novel as sheer luck, or your station as the Duchess of Hastings. He assured you many a time, that your flair in creating stories surpassed no man or woman living in London.

He knew those publishers well — well enough to know that they had never released a novel written by a woman, no matter how influential she may have been. Knowing you had managed to enter consideration for publishing was a feat in itself. The duke had absolutely no doubt that he would see your works in the hands of every person who knew how to read.

What you did not expect, however, was the request from the publishers to have your novel anonymously published. You demanded a reason, and they provided a whole list — women writing was only considered a secondary activity, and if word were to reach the city of a Duchess writing books instead of tending to her family, then it would cause an outrage. You could not believe your ears, despite a small part of you expecting this setback.

You wanted your name on the book.

Confiding in your husband once more, you told him of the condition, angrily pacing back and forth in your home. “It is simply...awful!” you spat, locking your hands behind your back, turning the room once more. Hyunjin watched you with a concerned look passing over his features as he looked up from his book. “Why should I hide my identity? I am proud of what I wrote, damn it!”

The man let out a sigh. “I think you should keep the name anonymous.”

That had you pausing. “I beg your pardon?” you demanded, thundering over to him. “Are you saying I conform to their conditions?”

“I am not suggesting it because of their reasoning. I know they are still too ashamed to try publishing a woman’s creation.”

Closing his book, he set it to the side table. “My love, there is nothing that brings me more joy than seeing you accomplish your dreams. I want more than anything to boast of your mind, and the writings it invents. However,” he continued, “I fear when the public sees your name printed on the novel, a controversial one at that, and see it that they attack you.”

“But that does not matter to me,” you responded, hands on your hips. “In fact, I welcome their criticism! Let me see what poppycock they want to say of my hard work.”

Hyunjin clamped his lips together, trying to hide a smile. “I am happy you do not care for such people, but it would damage your future writings. It would damage your future.”

When you frowned at him, he held out his hands. You closed the distance, settling upon his lap, sliding your arms around his shoulders, while he did the same around your waist. “Tell me, angel, do you wish to write after this?”

“Of course.”

“Well, see it like this,” he began. “Let us say you publish the novel anonymously. It would be in instant circulation, and everyone would read it, no matter who they are. Why? Because your identity is hidden. There would be no bias against you.”

“So?” you asked, and Hyunjin gave you a look. “Okay, okay, continue!”

“As I was saying,” he carried on, “This would not only help you gain an initial audience, but, if you do wish to reveal yourself after that, then it would be perfect. You would have not only shown the public that a woman had written such a brilliant novel, but anyone who would have had previous biases would either conform to reading your writing, or be furious that they had been tricked into reading a woman’s novel.” He then added, smirking, “Which, in my opinion, would be a very amusing situation to witness.”

You thought over what he said, mind in slight conflict. “In the end, though, it is your choice,” he reassured you. “Whatever you do, you have my undeterred support.”

The little addition had you smiling. “You make valid points,” you admitted, which had the man releasing a chuckle.

“You say that as if I have no intelligence,” he jeered, pulling you closer. “You will be thanking me when all of this goes as I predicted.”

“Don’t push it,” you countered. “We both know you have been proved wrong many times.”

“Hmmm…” he trailed off, leaning in, brushing his lips upon your skin. “At least I know I am right about one thing.”

“Oh?” Your head began to swim as he trailed a few lingering kisses up your neck. “And...and what would that be?”

He did not answer you — only offered an alluring smile before pressing his lips against yours. A soft hum left you as he moved his mouth against yours, slow and languid, teasing his tongue against the seams.

You would have offered yourself right then and there if he had not broken away, drumming his fingers against your waist. The smile darkened as he gave you his reply.

“You cannot resist me, angel.”

That, no matter how much it worked against your favour, was an undoubted fact.

After this though, you made your decision to keep anonymous, letting the publishers know of your change of heart. You knew that what Hyunjin said made sense, and, if your novel does receive recognition, then revealing yourself would create a huge statement in London society, positive or not. With this in mind, brought the final edited drafts of your work, and received information of the commissions and percentages taken by the publishing house.

Because the release of your novel was to take some time, you had some freedom with your everyday activities, which were once taken up by the constant editing. The duke, luckily, had begun to employ much more able men in his authority, and so his work was decreased significantly, to the point where he had days to spend with you alone.

During that waiting period, he suggested the two of you retreat to Hemingford, where you both spent your honeymoon. Your smile never left as you jumped at the idea, the man in turn making arrangements for the earliest carriage out of the city.

Within two days, you were welcomed by the little manor, nestled in the gifts of nature. You found yourself warming to the whole place once more, memories of the past months returning in a flash. Images of the many groves of trees, small network of rivers and a special presence, soothed you in every part you walked through. You nearly forgot how dear Hemingford was to you in the chaos of city life, engulfing its regal, almost mystical atmosphere. A part of you hoped that the book would take forever to be published, so you could never leave the natural retreat Hyunjin’s ancestors had created.

The man himself was glad he opted to take you to the manor — he saw your nerves slowly taking over in London, and knew that the more you stayed in Lansdowne, the more the wait was going to eat you alive. Aware of your attachment towards this place, he made it his personal mission to bring you here, and try to provide you with a little peace. When he caught that certain smile of yours when your eyes fell on the manor and the gardens around it, he felt half his worries melting away in the spring air.

He hated seeing you so unnerved.

After a few days resting in paradise, the situation was changed for the better. You, breathing in the very earth beneath your feet, observing the trees curved over you like a concerned parent, thought that you could stay here forever. Receiving a letter from the publishers’ of the near completion of copies made only brightened your spirits, and you sighed out into nature.

“Is something the matter?”

Perking up, you saw Hyunjin, who walked over from behind you.

“Ah...not much,” you said, watching him settle beside you on the bench you sat upon, folding one dark-clad leg over the other. In his hands possessed a book of deep-shaded red, which he held with great care. “Thinking about the letter today.”

“I see.” His eyes wandered down to his fingers. “Actually, I do have something for you, relating to the subject.”

“Oh?” You followed his trail. “Does this book have something to do with it?”

“However did you figure that out?” He drawled, but then he faced you properly, unfolding his leg. “Here.”

You took the possession, eyes on him. “Whose book is it?”

A knowing smile escaped his lips. “Look at the front, angel.”

Curious, you obliged, checking the title.

You completely stilled.

Written on the front was the name of your novel.

“Oh my God,” you got out, holding it with both hands, opening it to the pages. There it all was, inscripted upon the hundreds of pieces of paper.

Your writing.

Your sleepless nights, your labour, your every ounce of strength, tied together by paper and leather and string.

Rushing, you opened to a random section of the novel, smile widening at the typewriter’s neat, cleaner version of your manic scribbles. The dialogue, the description of each environment — it was there before you, but this time it was not in your head, whirling indefinitely without a place to explain itself.

It was all on paper — in your very hands.

“H-Hyunjin,” you stammered out, not realising your heart was becoming a little too heavy. “Oh my God—where did you get this? Have they—they have begun to sell copies already?”

“Oh Lord,” your husband murmured, hands on your shoulders. “No, no, my love, this was of my own doing.”

When he caught the confused expression upon your aghast face, he explained further. “Before we left for London, I paid a visit to the publishers’, who had started typing up copies of your book. I requested the first copy made be given to me.”

His thumbs began to stroke soothing circles onto your skin. “I know you would have wanted to hold it in your hands before anyone else.”

Heavens above. He truly knew you so well.

You focused back on the book, closing it as you ran your fingers over the leather cover. “I…”

“No need,” he said, giving you an amused grin. “I already know I am the best husband one could ask for.”

He expected his banter to be returned, but you responded to him with a heart-shattering smile.

Holding out the book, you propped it in his hands. “I want you to have it, Hyunjin.”

This time, it was his turn to be confused. “Am I missing the joke here?”

You held his gaze, albeit with much difficulty. “I promised you something once, quite a long time ago. All my firsts are yours.”

Your hand reached out, brushing against his. “This is my first novel. My most prized possession.” A pause, before holding that state with all your might. “I would want nothing more than for you to keep it.”

The duke used his every ounce of strength not to cry upon the bench. “Well then…” he began, taking the book from you. He turned to the front page, which was blank, save for the title name again, and the written anonymously typed onto its surface. “Well, ____, you must sign it for me!”

A laugh escaped you at that. “An autograph?” You jested, spluttering further when the man brought out his fountain pen, opening the cap. “I suppose with this enthusiasm, I shall throw in a little message.”

Hyunjin slapped a hand to his chest, brows raising in mock surprise. “By God, you spoil me!”

“Give it here!” You retorted, taking the pen and book once more as you found the landing page.

You pondered for a few minutes on what to write, earning a few hurry ups! and the occasional she does not love me after all, the latter greatly exaggerated. Berating him, you finally thought of the words, arriving straight from the heart.

Finishing off, you gave the novel back. “Let us see what faux sweetening you have made for me,” he chortled, eyes lowering to the text.

His grin began to fade as he read the message in his mind.

TO THE MAN WHO WAS MY FIRST FRIEND, MY FIRST KISS, AND NOW MY FIRST LOVE.

HERE’S TO MANY MORE FIRSTS WITH YOU. I KNOW THEY WILL ALL LAST.

I LOVE YOU.

Hyunjin knew that the sting in his eyes was not the spring breeze.

Slowly, he looked up, catching you staring at him with a smile—loving smile upon your face. A shuddered breath left his lips, unable to form the words.

“Oh no,” you began, jesting despite tears welling up in your own eyes. “It seems the duke believes in my faux sweetening after all.”

A coughed laugh left him at that, trying to clamp his lips together from smiling, but his emotions refused him to suppress himself. His eyes crescented, adding to his near teary grin. Propping the book to the side, he offered his familiar stare, laced with every fibre of affection.

“Come here.”

You jumped at the command, leaning closer as he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you to him. He moulded his lips against yours, and you readily accepted him, offering yourself up entirely for him — as if you were not completely his by your own choice.

The slight madness laced upon his mouth had you whining onto him, taking in the entirety of his affection as you opened up to him. Your request was teased upon with his tongue, sliding along your bottom lip, but the man pulled away, panted breaths fanning your mouth.

He pressed his forehead against yours, fingers holding onto your face as if letting go would cause you to stray. “I…” he let out a deep, trembling breath. “I love you, ____. So much.”

Your heart would never tire of the declaration. “I love you too, Hyunjin.”

And as he claimed your lips once more, you wondered whether you had finally achieved what every work of literature praised in the most elevated of languages.

Still, at least you knew this — that once there was a duke who you promised all your firsts to, and had somehow found his way into your heart.

There was once a woman, who refused to believe in love for herself, only for this duke to convince her otherwise, by falling for her completely.

Love stories may be a mere creation of the mind, but at least, at the very least, you knew.

Your love story was real. The first which was not mere fantasy, but real and true and tangible.

You had a feeling that this first, out of all the others you shared with the Duke of Hastings, was going to last.

3K notes · View notes

whereisten · 4 years ago

Text

Stupid Cupid

A Taeyong fic that’s a part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Cupid, also known as Taeyong, has never experienced real love. But when he meets you, he may finally have a chance.

Pairing: Cupid! Taeyong x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, fluff, smut, fantasy

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: oral (male receiving), penetration, breast fondling, cursing, alcohol use

(A/N: thank you guys so much for being so sweet and understanding and patient. I’ve always believed Halloween should be a celebration for multiple months out of the year and since the Halloween series is ongoing, it works 💀. Anyways, I’m so excited to share this with y’all. ❤️ One of my favorite songs is “Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran. And the music video features Cupid so I was inspired. 👍🏼 I hope you guys enjoy it! I also was inspired by “The Consequences of Cursing Cupid” by @by-moonflower). I loved it!)

...

Cupid was one of God’s most prized pupils. He was also one of His most beautiful creations. His hair had the shades of pink you’d see at sunset and warm brown eyes that could claim the heart of almost anyone. His tan skin glowed, bringing a piece of heaven’s glow down to earth with him. His body was slender, elegant, and muscular. His true appearance was known to few mortals but overtime, historians were able to conclude that Cupid was as beautiful as any of the archangels.

God entrusted his son to bring love and hope to the world one couple at a time. With his bow and arrow, he was able to give people love every day. As the years have passed, though, the population of the world expanded and Cupid only had so much time in the day to bring couples together. God and Cupid carefully handpicked Cupid fledglings throughout the years. Cupid wasn’t alone in his work anymore and he could afford some downtime every few centuries. It was 2020 and it was time for Cupid, or, as he was known by his earthly name, Lee Taeyong, to take a vacation.

Taeyong arrived in the sunny coastal town of Isla one Sunday morning. He would stay here for a few months. Taeyong would’ve kept working if he hadn't been forced by his coworkers to take a leave of absence. He’d always been a huge workaholic and quite the perfectionist. He was the type of guy who liked to get things done by himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his team. He just had a fixation with doing things his own way, which caused many clashes over the years.

This time, God had to intervene and force Taeyong to step down so that newly realized Cupids like Haechan and Yangyang could step up in his absence. Taeyong moved into a beach house right by the beach. A whole mansion to himself, he grimaced. What the hell was he supposed to do in such an expansive and luxurious place all by himself? Well, he had some ideas.

As much of a workaholic Taeyong was....when he let loose, he really let loose. It was like there was an on/off switch in his brain when it came to his rebellion and since he was out of work for the foreseeable future, it was time to turn the switch on. All work and no play for so many years made him act out in rebellion, which was why God sent Cupids Sicheng and Kun to watch out for Taeyong this time around.

Taeyong heard a knock on the door of his beach house. He frowned in confusion.

“Knock knock,” Kun said as he brought in suitcases and carried a backpack over his shoulder. Sicheng followed him in with his own bags as well.

Taeyong frowned. “What are you guys doing here?”

Sicheng beamed. “We’re here to make sure you don’t start up another orgy and anger many significant others…”

Kun nodded. “You’ll barely know we’re here.”

Taeyong brought out his angelic smile. “Is that so?”

…

Even with Kun and Sicheng on his tail, Taeyong was able to throw a massive party at the beach house the next night. A pretty face like Taeyong’s and a few likes on Instagram could attract many followers. And with followers, there was a great party. Celebrities even caught wind of the festivities. Taeyong was able to hire caterers and event planners to make the beach house a Hawaiian paradise. Tiki torches were lit all around the house. People lounged in the lagoon-shaped pool. There were party games in every room in the mansion.

Your friends convinced you to come with them to the hot new bachelor’s party. You could use a night out after working another six day work week at the local Isla Humane Animal Shelter. You wanted to let loose and dance with your friends. If only for a little while. Hopefully, you didn’t think about him now that you were able to relax.

Taeyong was having the time of his immortal life, dancing with one girl...one boy...after another. He was already hooking up with people on the dance floor in the backyard that overlooked the beach. He would grind behind one girl while another boy grinded against him from behind. Taeyong was in nothing but red swim trunks. His abs glistened with sweat and-

Your friend Jisoo said, “y/n, ask him to dance.”

You’d spent the last few minutes staring at the dancefloor. You couldn’t help but watch the pretty boy who stood at the center. You quickly gulped down your drink and shook your head. “Pass.”

Jisoo sucked her teeth. “Y/n, you’ve been staring at him for five minutes now.”

You rolled your eyes. “I like to observe my surroundings...It’s nothing.”

“You should ask the pretty boy to dance. It won’t hurt.”

“Nope. I’m fine right here, drinking my free pina colada...Not a care in the world.”

Jisoo replied, “Y/n, it’s been five months...”

You met Jisoo’s eyes. “Yeah, and I’m doing a lot better. You know this. My family knows it. All of the people who should be sorry to follow me on any social media know this.”

Jaehyun joined you two. “She's talking about how she’s over...him?”

Jisoo nodded. “And she clearly wants to dance with The Bachelor over there.”

Jaehyun watched him, also. “Well, for starters, he’s way cuter than that bastard but she should stay away from him. He’s trouble.”

Jisoo scoffed. “Who are you? Her father?”

Relieved that Jaehyun was on your side, you said, “Thank you, Jay! Now don’t worry about me, Jisoo...I’m great! I’m out of the house. I’m cutting a rug.”

Jisoo eyed you. “Okay…”

Now you had to admit that you thought about throwing caution to the wind and dancing close to the man, making ‘come hither’ eyes at him, kissing him in a closet, and calling it a night. The idea made you wet just thinking about it. But you knew yourself. You were the type to fall hard. And you fell hard once and it left you broken to this day.

Anyway, Pretty Boy seemed kind of busy so you turned the other way to join a game of poker in the living room.

Every human that spent an intimate moment with dear old Cupid was guaranteed the best orgasm of their lives. In Taeyong’s hands, his lover would feel treasured and adored and spoiled. Taeyong, a bringer of love, could bring paradise to anyone.

Now in his human form, Taeyong still had some of those divine powers. However, in a human body, he had limitations.

Like his alcohol tolerance, which, unfortunately for him, had never been good.

Before he could take anyone to paradise like he’d longed to do since he came to the Earthly plane, he was outside in his front lawn, vomiting all of the alcohol he downed in the past two hours.

Taeyong felt woozy. He wasn’t all there the moment when you first approached him. He looked awful. Pale and sweaty from puking so much.

Your concern outweighed your fear of talking to him so you approached him. You handed him a bottle of room temperature water and a wet towel from his kitchen so he could clean himself up.

Taeyong uncapped the water bottle and drank. He managed to say, “Thank you.”

You sighed, relieved to see that he was responsive. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am...Thanks…What’s your-”

“Y/n! Time to go,” Jaehyun started. Jaehyun promised to take you home. You were supposed to go into the shelter tomorrow to finalize an adoption.

You shouted back, “Coming!” You turned to your friend. Taeyong couldn’t see your face now. You did smell heavenly, though. Like fresh berries and daisies.

You turned back to Taeyong and smiled. Even if he was a wreck, he was still the most gorgeous male you’d ever seen. “Great party. Take care of yourself.”

Taeyong was still trying to sober up but he was able to meet your eyes, the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen on this planet. In any realm, actually. “You, too…”

You left him there, curious about you. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to ponder further as he threw up again. Maybe these parties were getting old. He always found himself like this whenever he visited good ol’ planet Earth...

…

[One Month Later]

Taeyong continued to indulge in his debauchery, throwing parties every night. Part of him hoped you would return so he could properly thank you for your kindness.

Your eyes were sultry and your scent was intoxicating. He wished he could remember you.

Every night that he spent time with a different partner, he thought of you.

Without any hidden agenda to get in bed with him, you absolutely fascinated him. His clouded judgment that night only made him remember your eyes. That was all he had to go on. He couldn’t explain the need to see you again.

The need grew stronger and stronger.

He certainly couldn’t ask his coworkers or the big man upstairs for help. Surely, they’d misinterpret his actions. He simply wanted to see you again.

In the process, Taeyong slowly began to reevaluate his time on Earth. Like Gatsby before him, he threw even more parties in hopes of you showing up. But he had no idea about your hectic work schedule. The parties continued and Taeyong quickly grew bored. Maybe he needed to get out and explore the city if he ever hoped to see you again.

In the daytime, Taeyong found himself waking up earlier and sending his partners on their merry way. He took up a couple of hobbies at home, as well. Baking and playing games on his Nintendo Switch. For his outings, he’d go to the mall, the grocery store, the amusement park, and more. Everywhere he could think of. But you weren’t there. He had the ability to feel your presence but you were never within his radar and it frustrated him.

Taeyong finished swimming a couple of laps in the pool and went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Kun was making dinner and Sicheng was setting the table.

“Penny for your thoughts, boss?” Sicheng inquired.

Taeyong sighed. “I’m just wondering when you two will finally leave me be.”

Kun turned off the stove and let the stir fry cool. “When your sexual appetite ceases.”

Taeyong frowned. “Have you no shame to comment on my activities?”

Sicheng and Kun looked at each other and looked back at Taeyong. “No.”

Taeyong sighed. “If you must know, the parties will cease tonight. I have given up.”

“Given up on what?” Sicheng asked.

They couldn’t know about Taeyong’s true motive with his parties. “Parties, of course.”

“Really?” Kun asked as he washed his hands.

Taeyong sighed. “Yes. Now let’s eat.”

A few hours later, Taeyong went to the beach to get some sun. A few girls asked for his number and he simply pretended not to know English. He spoke Japanese and spoke broken English to throw them off. He was in no mood to frolick. He was frustrated.

It was because of you. He couldn’t explain it but he desperately wanted to see you. Wanted to know you. Wanted to feel you come alive under him as he pleased you. And he had no leads.

Maybe he should just throw in the towel. It was dangerous for him to entertain the idea of seeing someone as more than just a fling. Knowing his one night stand’s name was more information than he needed.

Perhaps you weren’t real. Oh, heavens. He knew you were real but maybe he should convince himself of the contrary so he could give up on you.

Meanwhile, you’d been busy non-stop. You couldn’t go out and unwind because of your extremely-packed schedule, which was just how you liked it. Whatever free time you had was spent at home curled up in bed before bedtime. It was how you preferred it, though. It helped you get over your ex much more quickly. Or so you thought, anyway.

One of your co-workers at the shelter was an adoption counselor who had a family event she needed to attend. So she asked you for a favor. You came in for the afternoon shift to help pair up families with pets.

You loved working at the shelter, helping animals find their forever homes. It broke your heart to see so many of them, neglected and homeless. You always knew you wanted to work with animals, though. In high school, you started at the shelter as a volunteer. Now, you were one of the managers. You helped with fundraisers and outreach events to get the shelter animals’ faces out there.

You went to check on the dogs, cats, rabbits, ferrets, and other residents of the shelter, like you always did. Then, you finished adopting out an Australian Shepherd. His new family already adored him. The shelter’s adoption process was strict so if a family really wanted to commit to a pet, they had to commit to the process to prove it. So you had high hopes that this adoption would be permanent.

On the off chance it wouldn’t, these animals always had a home here. You wouldn’t cease until you did everything you could to get a home for each animal that walked through the shelter’s front doors.

You took a picture of the happy family to post on the shelter’s social media. You sent them off. You felt like you were being watched so you turned to the front window where you recognized Jaehyun and the pink-haired man from the Hawaiian paradise party. They were talking like they knew each other.

You frowned and walked outside to greet them. “Jaehyun?”

The men faced you. Jaehyun beamed, “Y/n! I was passing through and I ran into Taeyong here who is looking to volunteer at the shelter.” Taeyong was about to cut in when Jaehyun continued. “Is there a volunteer orientation today?”

You shook your head. “It’s tomorrow, Jay.”

Taeyong just looked at you, not saying a word.

You tilted your head in confusion. “But...If you’re free, Taeyong, we’d love to have you.”

Jaehyun answered for him. “Of course he is. There’s no other place he’d rather be!”

Taeyong shot Jaehyun a look but his face softened as he looked at you. “Yeah...He’s right about that.”

Still confused, you smiled. “Okay, tomorrow it is.”

Taeyong headed home after his confrontation with the meddlesome Jaehyun. Just who was he to you, he wondered. How dare he cross a god?

Sure, Jaehyun was a beautiful specimen but he was not at his level, Taeyong thought to himself.

[A Few Hours Ago]

After his time at the beach, Taeyong took another stroll through the town, exploring small businesses and stumbling upon an animal shelter.

Through the front window, he saw a family with their Australian Shepherd. And that’s when his radar switched on. His heart squeezed and his breathing faltered. You were here. You greeted the family inside. They posed for a family photo together with their dog. They held a sign that read “Furrever Home” on it. The family thanked you and you sent them off.

You were exquisite. Your smile. The glimmer of hope in your eyes. Your laugh. You were out of breath from running around so much and from the excitement, he could tell. Even though you were stressed and tired, you were happy at that moment. You turned toward his direction and he read your name on your name tag: y/n.

Taeyong wanted to rush in and call for your name but his feet were planted to the ground.

“Hey, I remember you,” someone called out to him.

Taeyong snapped out of his daze and turned to find a handsome young man with black hair frowning at him. Taeyong started. “I’m sorry. I don’t-“

“You’re Taeyong. You throw parties at that beach house and you’re the city’s most eligible bachelor. It’s all over social media.”

“Yes, and?”

The stranger glared as he nodded at you through the window. “You’ve been watching her, haven't you?”

Taeyong smirked. “And what about it?”

The man looked down at Taeyong’s pants where his member betrayed him. Jaehyun lifted his eyebrows.

Taeyong shrugged. “It’s rude to stare at a stranger’s crotch.”

He laughed. “You’re pretty easy to read, Taeyong. But I gotta warn you: don’t waste her time if you’re not fully committed.”

Taeyong laughed. “And who are you to tell me this?”

“Someone who refuses to see his friend’s heart broken again.”

Again, Taeyong wondered. “Well, I have no plans to let it get that far.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“Jaehyun?” You started.

Then, the conniving Jaehyun set Taeyong up to be a volunteer at the animal shelter without his consent. Well, Taeyong could’ve said no at any time but he didn’t want to disappoint you. Besides, this would be an opportunity to get to know you. Jaehyun may not be so bad, after all, Taeyong mused.

Jaehyun left Taeyong with these parting words. He grinned, showing his dimples. “If you hurt her, I will run you out of this town.”

Taeyong smiled. “I’d like to see you try.”

To anyone else, it would’ve seemed like two friends were parting ways but in reality, it was more like a declaration of war.

Your friend Jaehyun was very protective of you, Taeyong realized. He wondered if Jaehyun was enamored with you. And your nickname of “Jay” for him made Taeyong’s stomach turn.

Who was he to you? And why was he butting in on Taeyong’s pursuit of you? And what did Jaehyun mean by you getting your heart broken again? Who broke your heart? And why was he still breathing, unless Jaehyun failed to mention your ex’s funeral?

Taeyong wasn’t going to break your heart. He wasn’t that stupid. He spent enough time on this planet to set boundaries and never fall in too deep with a human.

It didn’t matter if you made him feel different than any other human has after twenty seconds of an interaction.

…

[The Next Day]

Taeyong wasn’t sure how he would feel about working with animals because he’s never interacted with them before. He envied any family who had a pet, though.

It was a kind of love he didn’t get to see frequently. His job was primarily focused on romantic love so it always fascinated him to see familial love, love between friends, and now love between man and man’s best friend.

You led the volunteer orientation. It was a relatively full house. You gave the new recruits the rundown on maintenance, walking the dogs, socializing with the animals, feeding, laundry, and safety. Taeyong was so impressed by how skilled and informative you were at work. You were a no-nonsense girl when you needed to be.

When the orientation ended, Taeyong lingered behind in the staff meeting room. You had to admit that seeing Taeyong again made your heart do weird things. You’d dreamed of him for a few nights and part of you wished you could’ve gone to another one of his parties. Your friends told you he’d thrown so many this past month that they lost count. So you were shocked to see this wealthy party boy at an animal shelter of all places. You did notice as you gave your talk that his eyes never strayed from yours.

After the orientation, you began, “Hey, Taeyong. How did you like the orientation?”

He smiled. “You were brilliant.”

Your face heated up. “Thanks.”

He asked, “I was wondering if you were free tonight to-“

A volunteer popped in. “Y/n, code leash with Ruby!” Code leash meant a dog was loose in the shelter without a leash on.

You started. “Oh, God. Sorry, Taeyong, I have to help catch one of our dogs.”

You looked distressed so Taeyong decided to help. He didn’t know where this altruism came from but it was there. “I can help.”

“Thank you. I have to warn you, though. She’s not friendly with most people. So be careful.”

You and Taeyong teamed up to catch Ruby while some of the other volunteers also teamed up elsewhere. Ruby had hidden under one of the benches near the cat corner of the shelter.

Ruby was a Papillon, also known as a Continental Toy Spaniel. She was a reserved dog. She was adopted as a puppy but when she was a year old, her owners gave her up for adoption when they were expecting a baby. With the betrayal she’d experienced, she closed herself off from most people and most animals. It took a few weeks for her to warm up to you.

Ruby had cute ears that resembled a butterfly’s, which explained the name of her breed, the Papillon.

With her leash in your hands, you crouched down to greet her. “Hi, Ruby…”

She surprised you by running over to Taeyong, who froze in his tracks. Ruby jumped against his legs and cried. She wanted his attention.

You looked at them in shock. Ruby had never taken so quickly to someone before. You were impressed.

Taeyong’s eyes doubled in size as he slowly backed up. Ruby continued to jump against his legs, regardless. “What’s happening? Is she trying to kill me?”

You fought back a laugh. “No...She wants you to hold her.”

He looked mystified. “Uh...I’ve never…”

“You’ve never…?”

For the first time, he looked shy. “I’ve never held a dog before…”

You approached them and called Ruby again. “Ruby, I’ll help you.”

You picked Ruby up and guided Taeyong. “Just raise your arms and cradle her. It’s okay.”

You handed Ruby to Taeyong and he was shocked at this new feeling he felt in his chest. It was this overwhelming joy and worry and affection he’d never felt. He would die for this dog.

Well, if he could die, he would.

So this is what familial love must be like.

Ruby licked him all over his face and he giggled like a little boy.

You were overjoyed to see Ruby with another person. This was promising. “She really likes you. It took me weeks to get her to warm up to me.”

Taeyong stared at you. “Really? I can’t imagine that…”

“You saved the day, Taeyong. Not bad for your first day as a volunteer.” You laughed.

You led him and Ruby back into her room. You stepped into her small room where she resided alone. She had a big fluffy bed and toys to play with. Even so, it could definitely get cramped in there after a few hours. You would take her for a walk later.

Taeyong asked, concerned. “She lives by herself? She must be so lonely.”

You told Taeyong her story and he understood her circumstances. He was furious at Ruby’s previous owners and he finally understood why places like this shelter existed.

You said, “She needs someone who will remain faithful to her all of their life. I hope she finds them soon.”

Taeyong rubbed Ruby’s belly. “So do I.”

“I have to get back to work. You’re not on the schedule until tomorrow but you are more than welcome to spend some time with the dogs…”

Taeyong was in his own bubble with Ruby.

You giggled. “Or maybe just Ruby.”

You left them be and got back to work.

Taeyong spent the next hour playing with Ruby, taking her for a walk, taking pictures of her, and cradling her to sleep. He hoped to catch up with you later but he couldn’t let go of his attachment to this dog now.

There was something about this town that made him attached to others. First, it was you. Then, it was Ruby.

It was unusual.

Ruby fell asleep and Taeyong checked his phone. He received a text over half an hour ago.

Where are you? Kun says you’re not home :( -Yooa

Crap, he’d forgotten all about Yooa. His “date”.

Taeyong realized he’d be getting earful from Kun later. He texted Yooa he was on his way.

…

[2 Weeks Later]

The first few days were rough for Taeyong because he’d never done manual labor in his life. He was willing to try and with your and other volunteers’ guidance, he was able to pick up on everything quickly. Everyone thought Taeyong was as strange as he was beautiful. They thought he was a sheltered rich boy who was learning how to care for someone else for the first time. Well, they weren’t far off from the truth.

Taeyong volunteered almost everyday at the shelter. He did everything he could possibly do as a volunteer and still had the energy to take the dogs on more walks than required. He was a god, after all. His energy on Earth was higher than that of any normal human’s. He hoped to impress you, too. He tried to ask you out or even for your phone number but you were always busy with shelter tasks. It was very hard to tell if there was a connection between you two.

At the end of each shift, Taeyong always left Ruby for last because she was his favorite shelter animal. “Alright Ruby, today is the day I finally ask y/n out.”

Ruby snoozed in response. Taeyong sighed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

You were the last person to leave the shelter and lock up. Everyone had already left an hour ago but you were finishing up some emails. You found Taeyong waiting outside the door. “Taeyong!”

He waved and smiled, not looking disheveled at all after a full-day shift.

You, on the other hand, could use a shower. “Everything okay?”

Taeyong asked, “Are you free?”

“Uh...”

“I was wondering if you…”

Your eyes as you watched him left Taeyong in nearly almost a trance. The way your hair fell over your eyes when you adjusted your work bag. The breeze caused your perfume to creep into his nose and he had to catch his breath. Even your little yawn after a long day was cute. Damn it.

You started, “Taeyong?”

Taeyong tried to say something but his throat went dry. Why wasn’t he able to say words? He was prepared to say. Come away with me tonight. I’ll take us to dinner and then...Well, it’s your call, y/n.

And here he was, his palms sweaty. His cheeks were red. He was so close to trembling from the new anxiety that crept up on him.

You asked, “Are you okay?”

Taeyong shook his head to shove his fears away. “Are you free?”

He invited you over to his house for dinner as a thank you for showing him the ropes around the shelter. You felt bad for assuming that he was asking you out. It appeared that he wanted to keep this platonic and you were relieved.

You’re a chicken, Taeyong thought to himself. The ball was in his court and he missed his shot to take things further with you. Even so, you’d said yes so all in all, you two were headed somewhere.

You followed Taeyong in your car over to his place. You entered the extravagant beach house, which was surprisingly neat and homey. The furniture looked comfortable, like you could easily fall asleep on it. The lighting was at a low, almost romantic setting. The house was tranquil and all you could hear was the crash of waves in the distance.

Taeyong said, “Please take a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you some wine?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

Taeyong smiled warmly at you before he departed for the kitchen.

Another young man appeared as he came down the stairs, calling out. “Sicheng and I will be back in a few days. Our Lord needs us in Beijing for an emergency match-up.” He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and merely stared at you. “Seriously, another ‘appointment’?”

Taeyong darted out of the kitchen. “Kun.”

You got up and waved. “Uh, hi. I’m Taeyong’s friend, y/n. From the animal shelter?”

Sicheng joined the group. “Friend?”

Kun’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re just friends with him?”

You looked at everyone around the living room. “Yes…”

Although you had to wonder what Kun meant by “appointment”. If you had to guess, you weren’t the first girl Taeyong brought home. This week.

You knew Taeyong was a player from the first night you met him. But you were attracted to him so the possibility of a one night stand with him didn’t repel you. You weren’t about to ask for it, though. You were already going out of your comfort zone, coming over to his house for dinner.

And then...Taeyong’s personality surprised you these past few weeks. He was warm and hard-working and kind. You had to admit you had a little crush on him. You wouldn’t let that truth see the light of day, though. A player was a player, no matter what.

Sicheng smiled as he greeted you, “Y/n, welcome to our home. I’m Sicheng. Our rude friend right here is Kun. We are Taeyong’s coworkers and roommates.”

“It’s nice to meet you. What is it that you guys do? You mentioned a match-up?”

Taeyong eyed his friends. “They...”

Kun continued, “We...are dating gurus!”

You replied, “I see. So you’re headed to Beijing? That’s exciting!”

The boys told you they worked for a dating website for high-profile people and traveled to countries like China and South Korea to counsel them on dating. It was unheard of and unusual. At least for you, anyway. But it was kind of fascinating. Kun and Sicheng told you that Taeyong had been working nonstop for years now as a dating guru so now he was taking some time off. They excused themselves and headed off to the airport.

You accompanied Taeyong to the kitchen as he cooked some New York strips for the two of you. He refused your help and wanted you to sit down and relax. “I didn’t know you were a dating guru.”

He chuckled nervously. “I don’t really like to talk about it.”

“Oh, well, we don’t have to…We could always talk about something else. Like where you’re from?”

Taeyong chopped some vegetables as he mulled over his answer, avoiding your eyes. How was he going to say he came from Heaven? First of all, it would be ludicrous to you. And second, it sounded like a pickup line that would only stroke his ego. There was no way to win by telling the truth. “Abroad.”

You sipped your glass of wine. He was so vague. “Abroad? Where?”

“My Lor-...father traveled all the time when I was growing up so we always moved. And once I got to work with the dating website, the traveling continued.” Nice save, he thought to himself.

“Oh? Wow, that’s sad, isn’t it?”

Taeyong looked at you. “Sad?”

“I mean, maybe it wasn’t...What I meant was that it must have been difficult getting uprooted all the time. Having to get accustomed to a new place...Only to have to start over somewhere else.”

You had no idea, Taeyong thought. You read him like a book so he had to ask. “How did you know?”

You understood his situation very well. “My dad is a lieutenant general. We’ve moved around a lot until I was eighteen. Come to think of it...Are your parents in the military?”

Taeyong knew he had to come up with something. Quick, he told himself, think of something believable. The first thought that came into his mind was Jurassic Park after he watched it last night. “No...He’s a...paleontologist.”

That was an uncommon job but you were impressed. After all, Jurassic Park was one of your favorite movies. You asked him about the places his dad took him, what dinosaur bones his dad uncovered, and more. Taeyong had to get creative and being dumb about the subject didn’t hinder his case. He claimed that remembering the names of species was impossible for him. You were riveted, regardless. You spent most of the time talking about Jurassic Park, anyway. You told him about Universal Studios’ Islands of Adventure and a Jurassic Park feature located at the park. You suggested you two could go together sometime and Taeyong’s eyes lit up, then. His doe eyes caught you off-guard.

You continued talking about your interests and your pasts. Well, you did. Taeyong had to get a little creative when topics such as his “childhood” and “family” came into conversation. But other than that, he enjoyed having you in his home. You were full of warmth and generosity. You laughed at his jokes and asked him about how he was doing. It left him speechless. He wasn’t sure what you were really thinking or if you were even interested. You were equally unsure and found yourself considering what you’d been fighting since the moment you first laid eyes on him.

Taeyong served dinner. His cooking was incredible. The steak and baked potato were paradise on your taste buds. “Taeyong, oh my God, this is incredible. You should be a five-star chef and open a restaurant.”

Taeyong chuckled. “Thank you, y/n but I’m more of a pastry chef than anything else.”

“What’s your price for a batch of chocolate cupcakes?” You teased.

He smiled. “Free of charge.”

“But?”

“Well, if you were free to watch Jurassic Park 2 with me this week, then I would consider it.”

“I’ll take it.”

Taeyong was excited that you two would see each other outside of work again. Taeyong served you cookie dough ice cream with fudge.

You ate your ice cream. “Thank you so much for inviting me over. I haven’t been able to hang out with friends in a while so this means a lot.”

Friends. Taeyong was a little hurt at your label of him. He thought there was something between you. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to make a move so he forced a smile. “I’m glad we’re friends, too.”

…

[2 months later]

Taeyong continued to volunteer at the shelter. His ego took a nice, deserving blow after you told him you were just friends. He was still happy that he got to spend time with you. You became so close that you spent most of your time with him outside of work. You played video games and watched movies. You also fostered some animals together on the weekends.

Taeyong hadn’t thrown a party or gone to one since he started spending time with you. His phone started lighting up a lot less as the weeks passed. The truth was Taeyong had stopped hooking up with anyone else. He was focused on you. Getting to know you.

You even told him about your ex Jaemin. You and Jaemin were going strong for 11 months. The biggest player at your university, Jaemin worked hard to get you to say yes to dating him. The romance started off beautifully and ended abruptly when Jaemin said he didn’t want to be unfair to you. The day after the breakup you saw him out with another girl like it was nothing. And a month later, they were engaged to be married. Now, they were married and expecting a child together. It seemed that he genuinely loved his wife. The way he looked at her with such affection the day after he broke up with you. It broke you because that was how you used to look at him. You thought he was the one and up to a certain point, he told you you were the one for him. You wondered how he moved on so quickly to this day.

Since then, you didn’t want to date anyone, much less a playboy. Hook-ups were something you would’ve considered but you were still hurting. Taeyong had been the first boy you looked at in five months but you still weren’t ready. However, now that you two were getting to know each other...Maybe, just maybe…

Taeyong wanted to track down Jaemin and destroy him, break up his family, and kill him. Well, maybe not to that extreme. But he wanted to avenge you for how Jaemin could’ve been so swift in hurting you and moving on like nothing. He had to wonder…

If maybe one of his coworkers had something to do with it. He’d never had a hand in pairing up a Na Jaemin with anyone. If that were the case, he would’ve never forgiven himself for pursuing you.

He finally understood that you were guarding your heart and he didn’t want to push you. He would wait for as long as it takes to…Well, he wasn’t sure...Kiss you? Take you out on a date? He wasn’t sure how romance or courting worked.

It took some convincing but Taeyong finally decided to foster Ruby for the week. He didn’t refuse before because he didn’t want Ruby. He was scared of being ill-prepared for taking care of her or that his house had some hazards for the little dog.

You drove Taeyong and Ruby back to his house. The three of you stood outside his front door. He had Ruby on a leash.

Taeyong started. “Are you sure, y/n? What if Ruby falls in the pool when I go take a shower? What if she chews at my phone charger and gets electrocuted?”

You laughed. “Taeyong, how is she going to get in the backyard? Are her paws going to magically turn into hands so that she can turn the doorknob to the back door?”

“No…”

“So long as you keep her active and give her toys and activities, she will have no reason to chew at your charger or go on an online shopping spree while you’re asleep.”

Taeyong frowned, knowing that you were mocking him now. “Fine. But if anything happens, I’m taking you down with me.”

Your eyes danced. “Fine with me.”

You three went to the beach and Ruby was having fun playing on the shoreline. Taeyong giggled like a little boy as he played fetch with her. You watched them and smiled. It was beyond you why Taeyong wouldn’t adopt Ruby. They clearly loved each other very much. Maybe today you could finally convince him.

You returned to the beach house as you ate ice cream cones from the boardwalk ice cream shop. Ruby ran back inside to drink from her water bowl. You and Taeyong lingered on the outside deck by the pool and watched the sunset. Taeyong’s chocolate ice cream cone was melting at the sides and you regretted not buying chocolate so without thinking, you licked his melting ice cream. Taeyong was caught by surprise and you looked up at him before getting back to your ice cream cone.

The innocent but teasing glint in your eye made him shocked and aroused. He paid a little too much attention to your tongue. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. And he longed for it to worship his body.

You winked. “Sorry. You’re a slow eater and it was melting…” You handed him your vanilla ice cream cone. “You can have some of mine.”

He snapped out of it and licked the cone as suggestively as he could to try and get a reaction out of you. And that he did. His big brown eyes had a mischievous glint to them. He smirked. You avoided his eyes completely. “Y/n.”

You bent down and pretended to tie your shoe and realized you weren’t wearing sneakers but sandals. You got back up, embarrassed and still looking away from him. “Yeah?”

“I like you.”

You looked back up at him. “Taeyong-”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just wanted to say it. At least once.” He liked you for a long time now. The more time he spent with you and went out of his way to be with you every moment he could made him realize that maybe what he longed for with you wasn’t simply one night of pleasure.

He wanted more. He didn’t know exactly what that meant. But he just liked to be with you. Your kindness, your wit, your sense of humor, everything about you made Taeyong feel that heaven could be found in another person.

He didn’t want to push you, not at all. He did wonder about what things would be like if you gave into each other. But he would still wait for as long as it took for you to consider him.

You admitted, “Taeyong, I like you, too.”

He sighed in relief. “Oh, thank heavens. Let’s go out on Friday.” Hundreds of plans were running through his mind of how he wanted to spoil you for your first date. He’d been doing research on where he could take you in the city and debated whether or not a road trip to Universal Studios would be too much.

You smiled in spite of yourself. “That’s so sweet…”

“But?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready...Or if I can trust you...You’re very…experienced.”

Taeyong looked at you in confusion as he finished his ice cream cone. “What do you mean? I’ve never dated.”

“I mean...Sexually…” You muttered the last word. Your face was hot and Taeyong only looked at you like you’d said the sky was blue.

“Taeyong, before we met, you were partying every night and sleeping with multiple people. Are you going to tell me that you’re not that person anymore? Because you know what happened with Jaemin...I don’t want that again. If we are going to take this any further, you have to be honest with me. When you want to end it, show me your heart. Don’t leave me wondering what I did wrong...” He could see your eyes get bigger and redder. They were welling up. Your voice broke and it broke him to hear it.

He hated seeing you unhappy. You didn’t deserve to be burned the way you had. He wrapped his arms around you, then. For the first time. “I would never do that to you. I would never-”

You hugged him back. “Please don’t make promises you can’t keep. Let’s just take this slow...Okay?”

He never felt as close and vulnerable with someone. Then you came along and he was ready to do what he could to be with you. To at least try. “Okay.”

He caressed your face and pulled you in for a kiss. He lifted you off the ground and sat you on a ledge as he leaned down to kiss you deeper. His tongue intertwined with yours. You both tasted like ice cream and it made you both crazy with longing. You were the first to stop the kiss and reminded him, “Slow.”

He kissed your forehead. “Slow.”

…

[4 Months Later]

You and Taeyong took your new relationship slow. It drove you both crazy that you put off sleeping together for so long. You wanted to get to know Taeyong better. So did he. Even if this was the longest dry spell Taeyong had undergone, it was worth it.

“What’s got you so happy, boss?” Sicheng asked, visiting from New York. Sicheng and Kun moved out months ago when they saw that Taeyong wasn’t causing any trouble. Sicheng held Ruby in his lap. Taeyong adopted Ruby not too long after you two agreed to date.

Taeyong was worried, though. Just how far could he take things with you before he was summoned back by God? It could be five years or fifty years before He called him back to Heaven. Taeyong had to tell someone what was eating at him and Sicheng was one of his closest friends. “I need to tell you something.”

After Taeyong told Sicheng about you and what transpired all this time, Sicheng sighed, “Taeyong, this is trouble. We are not supposed to get involved with humans.”

“Sex is okay but dating and marriage are out of the question? How does that make sense?”

Sicheng frowned, reminding Taeyong of Kun at that moment. “Sex was never okay. In moderation and with zero strings attached? Sure...But you’ve crossed several lines...You’re playing with fire by pursuing y/n.”

Taeyong sighed in frustration. “I know but Sicheng, I’m falling…”

Sicheng watched Taeyong that night and witnessed how he changed after he met you. He put a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder. “I know. You’ve fallen since that first night. Five seconds.”

It took Taeyong five seconds to fall in love with you.

Taeyong continued, “I want to make this work. Let our Lord find out from me.”

“But-” Sicheng started.

“I appreciate you for not ratting me out to our Father, Sicheng. You’re a good friend.”

Later that night, Taeyong picked you up from your apartment and wanted to surprise you. He blindfolded you as you sat in the passenger seat of his car. Taeyong whispered into your ear. “Can you hear me?”

You laughed and bit your lip. “Taeyong, it’s a blindfold. Not ear plugs. Why are you whispering?”

He whispered even lower and the warmth of his breath made you fidget and press your thighs harder together. “It’s fun. That’s all.”

He could tell you were aroused. He could see your nipples through your black dress and he had to control his cock from making an early appearance. It was a good thing he blindfolded you.

Taeyong drove you two in silence and his giggles made you laugh. You held hands. It didn’t take too long to reach your destination. He escorted you out of the car and removed your blindfold.

“Surprise!”

You were at the Isla Central Marina and you stood before the entrance of a yacht named Cupid’s Bow. The boat was decorated with white Christmas lights.

“Taeyong, what is all this…”

He smiled as he led you onto the boat. “It’s where we’re having dinner tonight.”

You sat down at the table set at the center of the yacht. It was decorated with white daisies. Taeyong chose white daisies because their scent reminded him of you. And for their significance.

He sat you down at your seat and squeezed your shoulders.

You looked around in wonder. The night sky was clear as the full moon shone down on you both. “This is amazing. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Taeyong sat across from you and smiled brightly. “I want to give you the world, y/n. If you let me, I will.”

Your face felt flushed and you stared down at your lap. “You’re so corny.”

He asked for your hand and you gave it to him. He kissed it and looked at you with what could be described as bedroom eyes. He tried to seduce you a couple of times now because he loved to tease you. You’d tease him back and pretend to consider sleeping with him. Fair’s fair.

But tonight? The teasing would stop.

Someone else cleared their throat. “Welcome to Cupid’s Bow. Thank you for dining with us tonight. I will be your server, Kun.”

You gasped and laughed. “Kun, what are you doing here?”

Dressed as a waiter, Kun said, “Taeyong needed a hand for tonight. And our friend Sicheng will be maneuvering this vessel.”

You turned to Sicheng as he waved from the steering wheel. He was wearing a captain’s outfit. You fought back a laugh. They were a cheesy group of guys.

Kun started you guys off with drinks as the boat departed the marina. You sailed around the bay that connected to the ocean. The bay led into downtown Isla where the city lights shone brightly. It was a beautiful modern-day fairytale.

Taeyong started up a playlist from his Bluetooth speakers and asked you to dance. “Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran played.

Taeyong was a great dancer. He must have been classically trained for years. He spun you in circles and dipped you, pretending he was about to drop you to tease you. He pulled you close and hummed along to the lyrics. You laughed and held him tightly.

The songs continued as you and Taeyong watched the view. He held you from behind. The night was perfect.

“Y/n,” he said into your ear softly.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

You turned back to him and smiled. “I love you, too.” You kissed him.

You liked Taeyong ever since that night you met. But you started falling in love after you saw how he was with Ruby. He carried a lot of love and loyalty in his heart that it left you in awe every time you were with him. There was more to him than the wealthy bachelor persona he emitted. That wasn’t who he was. He was a man who loved fiercely. He was your best friend. And now you wanted him to be your lover.

You sat down together and ate Italian cuisine. Kun was an incredible chef. You and Taeyong share lasagna and chicken Alfredo. It was delicious. For dessert, you two fed each other gelato.

When Cupid’s Bow returned to the dock, you and Taeyong sat in the car, awkward.

Taeyong waited for you to tell him to take you home but it never came. You wanted him to suffer for a few more seconds.

You started. “Thank you for tonight.”

He cleared his throat. “I had the best time.”

“Can I stay the night?” You asked softly.

Taeyong was hearing things. “I’m sorry?”

“Let’s spend the night together.”

Taeyong was about to jump out of the driver’s seat and scream. He played it cool and his face was unreadable as he said, “Okay.”

You giggled. Taeyong was an enigma but you could see the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

You returned to the beach house and darted to the pool. Taeyong ran after you. You removed your dress and turned to him, biting your lip because you knew he loved it.

You were down to your black and red lingerie and Taeyong was so close to salivating. He longed to worship your body. He stood there, unable to move. He watched you slowly descend the steps into the pool and wait for him.

He walked slowly over to you, like a tiger about to pounce on his prey. He wanted you. You could see the desire in his gaze. He unbuttoned his shirt and you could see his abs glisten against the reflection of the pool. He smirked again, knowing it drove you crazy when he did that. He slowly unbuckled his belt and you could see his bulge better as he pulled down his pants.

“Wow,” you said.

“Hmm?”

Taeyong was down to his briefs. He pulled them down and chucked them away. His physique was like that of a statue of a Greek god. He was rock solid. You swam into the deep end, waiting for him to follow you in.

Taeyong got into the pool and dove down. You couldn’t see him now.

You were waiting for him to surprise you but time passed and you wondered if something was wrong.

“Yong?” You started. “Yong!”

He crept up behind you then, pulling your panties down in the process. “Boo.”

You smacked him. “Jerk. I thought you were dying.”

Taeyong chuckled. “I wasn’t down there for that long.”

“You’re kidding, right? I counted. It was at least a minute.”

Maybe he crossed the line with his immortal abilities, then. He sighed. “What can I say? I have incredible lung capacity.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why don’t we put that to the test?” You put your arms around him and kissed him deeply.

Taeyong’s heart skipped a beat. Your soaked body got him harder. You got onto his lap and he kissed your cleavage. His kisses were everything. You had been thinking about your first night with him for a long time now.

Taeyong lowered the strap of your bra and kissed your shoulder, silently asking if he could unclasp your bra. You nodded. He adored your breasts, biting and sucking at them.

You lowered your hand to his pelvic region and felt his large cock. He grunted as you clasped it. You kissed his neck and nipped at his ears.

You both loved teasing each other so now that you were spending the night together, neither of you was going down without a fight.

After a few minutes, Taeyong carried you out of the pool. You looked up at him, admiring his flawless profile. He dried you off and he took your hand and led you upstairs to his shower.

He started up the shower and you looked up at him. He took your face into his hands and gave you a peck on the lips. He smiled.

He started washing you with his body wash. It was Jo Malone Lime Basil & Mandarin. It smelled just like Taeyong and you wished you could smell like this all the time. He carefully navigated your body like you were a fragile vase and kissed you all over. He saved your chest for the end and could feel your heartbeat against his palm. He looked up at you through hooded eyes and you kissed his nose.

You washed him and teased him as you washed around his crotch, lightly tracing it with your fingers. His skin was soft while his body was muscular. He was the most beautiful contradiction in the world.

Taeyong pulled you in for another kiss and you wrapped your arms around each other. He turned the shower off. You both dried off.

He scooped you up, making you giggle. He laid you down gently. You stretched your body against the mattress and Taeyong admired all of your angles.

“I’m going to fuck you until the sunrise, y/n,” Taeyong said as he looked down at your body. Your eyes lock on him. They were no longer doe-like.

“I bet you are,” you said, feeling a little nervous now.

He straddled you and kissed you. His cock teased its entrance into your folds. “My stars, you are the most gorgeous creature,” he said as his face was mere centimeters from yours.

You pulled him closer and you kissed again, running your hands over his back. He traced his fingers around your folds, teasing your entrance. You whimpered as you held him tightly.

You pushed him off of you and laid him back as you gripped his cock and pumped. “You think you’re the only who’s been dying for this moment?”

Taeyong gaped at you. You were the first partner to take charge. His other lovers usually let him take the lead. He didn’t mind it much but to see you cater to his needs made him dizzy.

You took his cock into your mouth and your throat burned from the contact. You couldn’t take all of him in so you had to love the rest of him with your hand. You started bobbing your head back and forth, licking the veins of his throbbing member. Taeyong grunted. “Fuck, y/n.”

You looked up at him and his heart nearly stopped again. He gripped your hair. He came into your mouth and you swallowed his seed.

“You taste better than I imagined,” you said as you wiped your mouth.

You were generous in all aspects of life but in the bedroom? Taeyong was floored. “Allow me to pamper you.”

He laid you against his bed frame and brought out handcuffs.

“Well, you came prepared. Are those new?” You hoped they were.

“Yes. They came in yesterday…Good timing, wouldn’t you say?”

You nodded as he unlocked the cuffs. “Lift your arms up, y/n.”

You obeyed and he cuffed you. Your breasts were raised beautifully and Taeyong sighed. “Breathtaking.”

You averted your gaze and Taeyong shook his head. He took your chin and turned your face to him. “No, no...Don’t get shy on me now...Not when you fucked me with that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You loved how low his voice became and you felt your pussy tremble underneath him. He fondled your breasts, squeezing your nipples and biting them. He kissed around your folds. He traced his tongue at your entrance and breathed against it, making you whimper. He started whispering sweet nothings in multiple languages. He spoke in almost ten languages and you wondered who this man really was. You came once he spoke dirty French into your ear.

You were already soaked and Taeyong wanted to indulge in torturing you for a few minutes before he entered you. He started by slipping one finger into your entrance and carefully avoided your G-spot to rile you up.

“Taeyong, please,” you cried.

He stopped and kissed your forehead. “We have all night, y/n.”

You pouted. “You’re too good at torturing me.”

He smiled. “Am I torturing you? I didn’t think so.”

You wrapped your legs harder around his abdomen. “Get inside me. Now.”

He sighed. “You seem to forget that I’m calling the shots, y/n.”

You licked your lips. “Are you?”

He frowned and slipped his fingers out of your folds. “Do you not like it?”

You shook your head. “I do. I do. I do.”

He smirked. “Then, let me work.”

He continued to fingerfuck you until you cried. “Yong, please…”

“I love when you call me Yong. It destroys me,” he said as he finally entered you.

You cried out loud as his cock entered and hit you in the right places. You could feel him go deeper and could feel his cock twitching in your belly. You climaxed quickly and Taeyong quickly pulled out and came right after.

Taeyong cleaned you both up, not removing you from the cuffs just yet.

“Uh, Taeyong?”

“Yes, darling?”

“You forgot something?” You looked up at the cuffs.

“Oh, you’re right. I did forget something.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you.”

He walked out of the room.

Your arms started to hurt from having been raised for so long. “You are so funny!”

He returned with a tray that had two glasses of water and a bowl of strawberries and whipped cream.

“Are you hungry?” Taeyong asked, acting oblivious.

“Taeyong, I think it’s your turn to try on the cuffs…”

He beamed. “Exactly what I was thinking, y/n.”

“Okay, great. Now if you can get these off of me, the chances of me choking you to death will be lower.”

He laughed. “You’re so funny.”

He sat next to you in bed. And fed you a strawberry with whipped cream on top, popping it into your mouth. He carefully slipped his finger out and licked his finger. “Mmm.”

He took the whipped cream and drew out shapes onto your body, tracing his tongue over the shapes and eating the whipped cream. It drove you crazy.

“Now that I’ve had my dessert. It’s only fair that you enjoy yours.” He uncuffed you.

You cuffed him and had your way with him. You even took it a step further and pulled out another set of handcuffs from the drawer. “I see you got an extra pair.”

He smiled. “Can never be too prepared.”

You returned his smile. “Let’s kick it up a notch. Shall we?”

You cuffed his ankles, as well. He laid in bed and waited for you to get to work on him but you decided to get the bowl of strawberries and whipped cream and eat a couple slowly. You even fed a couple to Taeyong.

You started, “This is nice.”

Taeyong grumbled in Korean.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I’m just waiting here. Patient.”

“Like the good boy that you are,” you cooed.

Your voice made him harder. You took the whipped cream and traced it over your collar bone. “Lick,” you commanded.

He licked across your collarbone. Then, you drew shapes onto his body, drawing a heart around his pelvic region. You saved it for last and slowly licked around it. You kissed his tip. He groaned. You straddled him and kissed him passionately.

You teased each other like that all night and made love for hours. You fell asleep in each other’s arms, holding each other tightly. The sun had risen a few hours ago. You woke up first and found Taeyong holding you tightly to his chest. He felt your movement in his sleep and he held you tighter. The sun lit up his features. He looked like an angel.

You kissed his cheek and his eyes opened slowly. “Good morning.”

You smiled. “Hi.”

He stretched and held you again. “I need to check on Ruby.”

You shook your head. “I’ll take care of her. You sleep.”

He whined. “It’s okay. You rest.”

You giggled. “It’s okay.”

You and Taeyong got cleaned up. You borrowed some of Taeyong’s clothes. You took Ruby for a walk around the neighborhood. You spent a quiet day together, living in utter bliss.

…

[1 Week Later]

Taeyong was on cloud nine. Having you in his life made him complete. He can’t imagine it getting better than this. You were at work and Taeyong was preparing dinner for you as you were sleeping over later. He was going to ask you to move in.

He finished his homemade pepperoni pizza and put it in the oven. He heard the doorbell ring. Ruby barked and he joined her to see who was at the door. It couldn’t be you. It was too early. He opened the door to find Mark at the door.

“Mark!” Taeyong smiled and hugged him. Mark was another one of his coworkers and close friends. Taeyong regarded him as a little brother.

“Taeyong, it’s great to see you…Wow, you are glowing.” Mark eyed him carefully.

He smiled, thinking about you. “Yeah...I guess I am. Come in!”

After they sat down and caught up with each other, Mark said, “I’ll cut to the chase...I’m here in Isla for my next pairing session.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded. The usually lighthearted boy looked serious. “I know about y/n.”

Taeyong’s smile faded. Ruby snuggled tighter to Taeyong as she rested on his lap. “Who-“

He shook his head. “I found out myself. Y/n is my next assignment.”

Taeyong felt his world crashing down onto him. “No…”

Mark sighed. “I expected one of the fledglings to get into this mess but you? Our mentor? It’s absurd.”

“Mark-“

“Father doesn’t know…Imagine his disappointment when he finds out. He doesn’t have to. If you end it now.”

Taeyong’s chest was on fire. Tears were threatening to fall. “No.”

Mark frowned. “What?”

“You heard me, Mark. I’m not leaving her.”

Mark sighed. “Once I strike the arrows at her and her partner, it’ll be over.”

Taeyong shook his head. “Mark, please.”

Mark hurt for his friend but his duty as a Cupid came first. “I’m sorry, Taeyong. This is how our world works. You’re the one who told me so.”

Taeyong hated this. He hated the world he knew before you. How could he go back to a world of bringing love to others and have no love himself? He couldn’t. Not after meeting you. You’d been burned before. No doubt by one of the Cupids interfering. He wasn’t about to let that happen again.

“Taeyong, if you interfere with y/n’s pairing...There’s no telling what the consequences will be.”

“I’ll be the one to deal with that, Mark. But I won’t let you come between us.”

After their exchange, Mark left. Taeyong retired to the kitchen to check on the pizza. It was ready.

“What is he saying, Taeyong?” You started.

“Y/n?!” Taeyong jumped as he found you waiting for him at the kitchen island.

You’d snuck in earlier to surprise him with sweet potatoes you bought from the farmer’s market. You wanted to scare him because it was a bit of yours. You snuck through the back door with your own set of keys he gave you.

You were about to duck your head into the living room when you heard Taeyong say he wouldn’t leave you. Your heart sank.

He wanted to hold you. “Y/n…”

You crossed your arms. “What is going on? Who is Mark? And who exactly is your father? What exactly is your job, Taeyong? Because I’m beginning to suspect you’re not a dating guru.”

Taeyong sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Taeyong checked the schedules of the fledglings at work in Isla. The best way for him to prove his identity to you was to show you how Cupids worked. “Come with me.”

He drove you to an amusement park. You turned to him. “You are not taking me on a date right now.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. Just follow me.”

He led you into the park and you sat down on a bench by the haunted house.

Taeyong started. “See that guy in the leather jacket? That’s my coworker Shotaro.”

“I don’t see him…” There was no one by that description where Taeyong was pointing.

“Y/n, hold my hand.”

“Taeyong, now’s not the time.”

“Please. Just do it.”

You gave in and held his hand and suddenly, a young man in a leather jacket appeared. Shotaro was carrying a bow and a bag of arrows. He prepared his arrow to shoot at someone leaving the haunted house.

“Taeyong, what is he doing?!” You yelled.

Taeyong shushed. “Y/n, just watch.”

You put a hand over your mouth and you were about to run over and stop this madness. Taeyong held you back.

Shotaro released the arrow and hit the young woman first. She looked at her best friend and kissed her cheek. Shotaro then shot another arrow at the best friend. She kissed the first young woman on the lips, then. The arrows vanished just as quickly as they pierced both women. It was as if they were never struck. Shotaro noticed Taeyong and waved before he faded away.

You rubbed your eyes. “Taeyong?”

“Yeah?”

“What the hell was that?”

“More like what the heaven was that…”

“Explain.”

Taeyong explained everything to you. How he was Cupid. How there were Cupids all over the world bringing people together. Taeyong was the original Cupid and he was on vacation. You took it all in and a lot of things started to make sense. Why he never spoke about his family or his job. How a lot of things were so new to him. It wasn’t because he was a sheltered rich boy. He wasn’t even human. He was a god.

This also meant that your concept of love was completely wrong. Cupids had their hand in romance all over the world. Which made you realize...

“So…When Jaemin broke up with me, it was because of you guys?”

Frustrated that you brought up Jaemin, Taeyong managed to say, “Yes…”

Tears fell from your eyes. “And you were never going to tell me?”

“It wasn’t my place to-“

“Oh, hell, if it’s not...How long were you going to play me like this? You were going to leave, anyway. What was the plan? Lead me on and then dump me like Jaemin did?”

Stabbed by your words, he begged, “Stop saying his name.”

“Well? How long were you planning to lead me on for? I’m sure you have a carefully crafted schedule for your next victim ready.”

Taeyong shook his head. “You don’t mean that.”

Tears fell onto your lap. “Taeyong, I loved you. Did you ever love me?”

The past tense killed him to hear. “Y/n, I love you. I’ve never loved anyone in all my years. You’re the only one for me.”

“Taeyong, you’re going to leave me.” You sobbed.

He shook his head. “I won’t leave you. I’ll fight for us.”

You hugged him tightly and he shushed you. He bought you a funnel cake with a large cup of lemonade to share. You both ate in silence for a few minutes.

You broke the silence.“When Mark said I had a pairing session, that means that I’m being matched with someone. Someone that isn’t you…”

“Yes…”

“Taeyong, I don’t want to be matched with someone else. What are we going to do?”

“I have a plan.”

You sighed. “I’m being selfish.” “What? No...Why would you think that?”

You took a sip of the lemonade. “The consequences of you disobeying...God, I still can’t believe it....I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Taeyong replied, “Let me deal with that, y/n. I will fight for us. It’ll take some convincing but after all of my years with Father, he has to listen to me.”

…

[The Next Day]

Tonight was the animal shelter’s fundraising gala in downtown Isla. It was held at the lavish Sun and Moon Hotel’s ballroom. Your potential partner would be in attendance tonight but you didn’t care. All you cared about was Taeyong and what he had up his sleeve. Mark was mingling with the other guests. He didn’t know that you were in on his plans with you. He met your eyes and smiled, playing the part of the oblivious but charming young man.

As far as Mark knew, you and Taeyong broke up last night so you had to look miserable. And frankly, you felt miserable not knowing what was about to happen with Taeyong. There was a chance you could lose him forever tonight. But you held onto the chance of remaining with him.

You forced a smile and continued to mingle with the guests. Meanwhile, Taeyong disguised himself and kept an eye on Mark. Mark may have been a well-established Cupid by now but he was not at Taeyong’s level. He was off by a few centuries.

The shelter had received a lot of donations from many local businesses and celebrities. You gave a thank you speech to all the attendees for their generosity and raised your glass to them. The uncertainty was killing you underneath it all.

Taeyong watched Mark prepare his arrow, then. Mark was no longer seen by humans. You realized Mark and Taeyong were missing, which meant it was time. Taeyong prepared his arrows. He stabbed himself with his own arrow as he watched you. Right before Mark shot his arrow, Taeyong shot at you. You turned to him, then, finally able to see him. Mark realized too late what he had done.

Mark yelled. “What have you-”

Taeyong and Mark vanished.

…

[5 Years Later]

The year you spent with Taeyong had vanished from your memory. The night of the gala after Taeyong and Mark disappeared, you continued on with your life. Living with an inexplicable hole in your heart. You thought it was because you were being dramatic. Seeing a lot of your friends get married and have kids didn’t help your case either. Meanwhile, you were alone. Working hard and thriving, sure. But emotionally, you weren’t all there.

None of your friends or family remembered Taeyong either. It was as if he never existed to any of you. One day, Jisoo introduced you to one of her friends from her gym. You two hooked up not too long afterwards. The night was fun. It was a one-time thing.

However, that one-time thing ended up in your pregnancy. The father wanted nothing to do with your child so he skipped town. You didn’t hold it against him. The child was unplanned and you decided to carry on with the pregnancy on your own. Your friends and family were very supportive. You gave birth to a baby girl named Daisy.

The emptiness in your heart was filled by your love for Daisy. She was your world. She was your partner in crime. You wanted to give her everything good the world had to offer. Maybe someday you could give her a father.

After dropping her off at pre-school, you stopped by the post office to send out a letter to your pen pal. Isla recently started up a pen pal program for its citizens to send each other letters and gifts. You were paired up with someone who shared a lot of the same interests as you: favorite movies, foods, and animals.

You were paired up with a man named Lee Taeyong.

Dear Taeyong,

I’m sending you a copy of my favorite movie of all time, Jurassic Park. Please let me know if you like it. If you do, there’s a bunch of stickers in it for you. I hope you have safe travels to Munich and Budapest.

Warmly,

y/n

Taeyong had faced serious consequences for interfering with your pairing session. The work that had to be put in to pair up y/n’s original partner, Nakamoto Yuta, with someone else put everyone into a frenzy. Thankfully, the damage was repaired.

However, the Lord was pissed. Taeyong disobeyed him. Even though God adored him, he knew he had to be punished. For every second it took for Taeyong to fall in love with you, it would take a year for you two to reunite.

God relieved Taeyong of his Cupid duties and wished him a wonderful life as a human. He looked forward to Taeyong returning to him again one day.

Taeyong returned to Isla with an established job as a pilot. Ruby remained with him. His friends Sicheng and Kun would look after her while Taeyong was away now and then. He loved traveling the world but he loved coming home to Ruby most of all. He tried dating a couple of times but it never clicked with anyone. And hook-ups were a thing of the past. He wanted something serious. He hoped to find someone to call his person someday.

He recently sent his pen pal a letter before departing for his flight to Paris.

Dear y/n,

I loved Jurassic Park. I can’t believe I wasted so many years of my life not knowing this movie. Don’t hold back on the stickers. I’m sending you a copy of one of my favorite movies. It’s called Train to Busan. Try not to swoon too hard over Gong Yoo or I might get a little jealous.

Warmly,

Taeyong

You two exchanged letters frequently and after a few more months, you decided to meet up at the cafe right next to the shelter. Taeyong walked past the shelter, arriving early for your meet-up. He was thrilled to meet you and finally put a face to your name. He looked at the windows where adoptions were currently underway.

That was when he saw you.

And just like that everything flooded back to him. How you two already knew each other once. How you became friends and grew together. How you fell in love.

He ran into the shelter and called your name. “Y/n!”

You were answering a volunteer’s question when you heard someone call your name. When you turned to the person who called you, it all came rushing back to you. All of the memories. All of the love for him that you carried in your heart.

“Taeyong…” Your eyes welled up.

You ran towards each other. You jumped into his arms, then. You laughed and cried together. You took a ten minute break to sit outside with Taeyong.

“I can’t believe it’s you…” He cried.

“Me neither...It’s been five years…”

“Five years...A year for every second it took for me to fall in love with you…” Geez, he thought, God was so unfair and so corny at the same time.

Five years without each other was too much for either of you to bear. You caught up on each other’s lives. Taeyong was shocked to find out you have a daughter. You were shocked that Taeyong was a human now.

But now this meant that you two could grow old together. Daisy could finally have a father. And you couldn’t wait to hold Ruby again.

…

[1 Year Later]

After a year of dating and getting to know each other again, you and Taeyong got married. Daisy and Taeyong adored each other. Ruby was happy to see you again and more than happy to welcome Daisy into her life. It was a beautiful union.

All of your friends were in attendance. Jisoo was weeping so hard. Jaehyun and his boyfriend Johnny were in attendance. Taeyong was shocked that it hadn’t been Jaehyun who claimed your heart after all this time. It turned out that Jaehyun was just a concerned friend. They became good friends.

You got married at the beach. You wore a stunning mermaid white gown. You walked down the aisle with a train decorated with white daisies. The white daisies translated to: “I love you truly.” Sicheng, a violinist, played his rendition of “All My Life” by K-Ci & JoJo. It was yours and Taeyong’s song.

Taeyong donned a black tuxedo. A daisy decorated his lapel. He nearly broke down in tears at how lovely you looked. You couldn’t help the huge smile on your face.

You recite your vows to each other. You started, “Taeyong, from the moment we first met...My life became tinted in shades of pinks and oranges again. I could see that the world could be beautiful. You helped me find happiness again. A happiness I didn’t know I needed until I met you. I adore you and will adore you even into the afterlife. Whatever happens, I will always be here for you. You have my heart. My everything. I cannot wait to spend our lives together with Daisy, Ruby, and our future children. I love you.”

Taeyong replied, “Y/n, you are my world. I found love in you. You are the light of my life. You made me a better person and you made me want to live and enjoy life. The world is beautiful because of you. I love you with all of my heart. I promise you that we will always be together. No matter what life...and the after life...will throw at us. I am yours. I will always be with you. My love. My darling y/n...I love our family. Daisy and Ruby, we love you so much. I cannot wait to raise our family together, y/n. I love you.”

Officiant Kun continued, “By the power vested in me by the State of Sweetwater, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Taeyong scooped you up and kissed you, earning applause from your friends and family.

A magical day of many. You two lived happily ever after.

Fin.

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entertainment · 5 years ago

Photo

Entertainment Spotlight: Neil Jackson, Stargirl

You may recognize actor, writer, and producer Neil Jackson from Absentia, and The CW’s new DC superhero series Stargirl. On the film side, Neil starred alongside Steve Carrell in Welcome To Marwan, as well as in Quantum of Solace, Nocturnal Animals, and You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger. An ex-amateur boxing champion, Neil worked as a personal trainer before becoming an actor. He is also an accomplished guitar player and song writer. His first album, The Little Things, was released in 2013. Neil took a few minutes to chat with us about Stargirl, his dog Rosco, and his upcoming projects. Check it out:

Is there a scene or moment from Stargirl that you’re most excited for fans to see?

There are so many fun scenes in this show that I think people will love, but there's a standout moment in the first episode where all of the Justice Society of America (Starman, Flash, Green Lantern, HourMan, Wildcat etc.) face off in an epic battle against a team of their greatest enemies...including Solomon Grundy. He's a fully CG Hulk-type villain and is AMAZING!

What’s your favorite character arc or storyline on Absentia?

At the end of last season (spoiler alert), Jack professed his love for Alice, only to have her reject him. She then was killed after we discover that she was working with the enemy. As we start season three, Jack is not only mourning the loss of that love, and her death, but also mourning the person he thought he knew, and he's having to do all of this alone, as no-one knows about his affair. It's heartbreaking to see him struggle.

Can you tell us about the character that you play in The King’s Man?

I'm afraid I can't say too much for fear of Matthew Vaughn putting out a hit on me, but I play a very pivotal character in the story. I just saw some of the edit and it looks amazing. The film has all the fun and heart of the first films, but with the dramatic weight of WWI and the horror of trench warfare.

Do you have any fun facts about the making of Stargirl that fans would be surprised to find out?

During lunch we would sometimes have karaoke. It was a fun bonding experience to eat your food while members of the crew sang their favorite tunes. Nelson Lee, who plays Dragon King, did a particularly memorable rendition of "Wind Beneath My Wings."

What did you do with your free time on set?

I hate being in my trailer, so I usually hang around on set and watch the other scenes. After almost 20-years in the business, I'm still fascinated by the process, so I love watching the machine at work.

Do you have any secret skills or talents?

I love cooking. Every Sunday I make a roast chicken with all the trimmings. It's a British tradition.

How did you prepare for your role in The King’s Man?

My role in the film is very physical and I was hired to be my own stunt-double so there was a lot of stunt training. There's an amazing hand-to-hand fight sequence that (for reasons I can't spoil) required us to stay in a crouched position throughout. That was so brutal on the knees. I would come home from work every morning (we shot at night) and have to put bags of frozen veggies on my knees to take the swelling down.

Can you tell us about a time you bombed (e.g. in an audition)?

I was auditioning for a lead role in the first Transformers movie. It was just me and the casting director in the room. The scene was during a battle and my character was a soldier who was evading attacks whilst calling for air support. The casting director was particularly dead-pan and, when she dryly called action I just went for it. I was rolling on the floor evading laser strikes from imaginary robots whilst screaming into an imaginary radio for an air strike. She would read the other lines in the blandest monotone, which just made the experience all the more absurd. After a couple of minutes of this I just started laughing. She, however, didn't find it amusing.

What’s the funniest photo that you have on your phone?

I mostly have photos of my dog, Rosco, on my phone right now. He's a beautiful Formosan Mountain Dog from Taiwan and just last week he graduated puppy class. He wore his mortar-board in celebration :)

What are you most excited about right now?

Directing my first feature film. I have two scripts of mine in active development, so whichever one gets traction first will be the one I will direct first. I am incredibly passionate about both stories and cannot wait to bring them to life.

Thanks, Neil! Catch Stargirl on Tuesdays at 8pm on The CW.

#entertainment spotlight #neil jackson #stargirl

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zotlel · 5 years ago

Text

The Exhibition (M)

pairing: jaebeom x you (ft. jinyoung)

genre: photographer!au, smut, romance, one-shot

synopsis: You are starved for inspiration as a photography student. When visiting the anonymous photographer “Defsoul’s” exhibit you meet a like-minded boy who gives you that spark. Only you didn’t expect the night to pan out exactly as it did.

word count: 7.8k

The wide city sidewalk was packed full of people anxious to get home and start their weekends. Their hurried steps accompanied by the warm street lights were quite a sight, you thought. With a quick flash of your camera, you are able to capture the scene as is, but you were already running late. You weave in and out through the bodies because unlike them you were not going home.

This was the third year of your photography program at the city’s most prestigious university. Despite how much you loved photography, you had been stuck in a creative rut recently that you just couldn’t seem to break free from. Therefore it had become a tradition of yours starting this new school year to attend some sort of photography exhibition on Friday nights. The size of the city that you were currently studying in allowed this to be a possibility due to the ever-growing art community it had.

Your steps continue at a quick pace, but you couldn’t help your eye from wandering at the scenes around you. So hungry for any sort of inspiration, from the streets dampened with a former rainstorm to the businessman making quick work to undo his burgundy tie that had been constricting his neck. Anything. You wished for just anything to strike you with a spark.

You had finally reached your destination where the new exhibition was being held. Alone. That was the title of the photographer’s first show. The photographer in question? Unknown. The photographer was going under the alias as “Defsoul.” It was quite a trendy thing these days to have no idea whose art you were looking at. You really could not wrap your head around as to why you would not want to put your name amongst the work you are proud of. Which was also a perfect example of why you probably struggled so much creatively.

The space the photographer chose had a rather grunge vibe, photographs were arranged on the tattered brick walls and all throughout the room. The air was thick around you as soft R&B beats flowed throughout the space. Stepping into the studio, you notice that you are one of the first patrons to arrive at the exhibition. While most guests came in pairs or groups you stood small in the expansive space in solitary, you preferred it that way. Small gatherings of people were scattered throughout the different rooms, all ranging from different ages, sexes, and ethnicities. You silently complemented the ambiguous photography for having the ability to reach so many demographics. The more you walked about the studio space, the more you understood everyone’s attraction to the enthralling photos.

Each photo was supposed to emit a different sentiment, or so that is what you have learned from your classes. The photos themselves vary from different subjects, older couples holding each other close, some were expansive European landscapes, and then also the occasional stray cat stretching in the afternoon sun. You tried your hardest to interpret the photos in your own words, trying to find the connection. Alone. That was the exhibition name. So why didn’t you feel that when walking amongst the various scenes?

To you, the different film that was taken emulated a mass collection of photos taken from someone’s personal collection. There was a sense of solace in each photo that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It felt as if you were with the photographer in every photo, imagining the way they shot each scene. You had been walking around rather aimlessly through the gallery until you stopped upon one image in particular.

The photograph was no more expressive than any other photo in the gallery, but you couldn’t help stopping and staring. The scene was the back of a man, his hair slightly long and disheveled, he looks out into an extensive lake surrounded by forestry, the light of a late midday sun which illuminated the photograph. You cannot help your logical analysis of the image, and you find no flaws. The common idea surrounding photography is that it is a completely creative and artistic practice, while this isn’t false, it just so happened to also require certain formulas as well. It requires an eye for direction, proportions, and balance. This photo that fascinated you in the gallery had all of those elements.

The sound from the other patrons fades around you as you become enraptured in the photograph. It was only the scent of pure pine and spice that had you reeling back to the current moment. To the right side of you, a man stood, he wasn’t looking at you but instead he was, just as you were, staring into the alluring photo. You studied the man, he seemed to be around your age, taller than you, with dark hair that matched his sultry eyes. You admired the man’s bone structure, tall nose and cheekbones, he really was quite attractive.

The way your gaze lingered on his face must have given him a sense of being watched. Because before you could hide your stare the handsome man was shifting his face towards you, looking straight into your eyes, a devilish smirk dances on his features. Heat rises to the apples of your cheeks as you turn to look at the picture again, pretending like you weren’t just caught checking him out.

“What do you think?”

You turn to face him, “Excuse me?”

“About the photo,” he smiles back at you. You cough slightly trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Oh, um-” you start carefully, “it is actually my favorite one in this exhibit I think.”

His face softens at your answer as he nods, looking back to the photo before he begins to speak again, “What’s so great about it?”

You look at the photo one more time, really analyzing it.

“I’m not sure exactly,” you say honestly. “It was the only photo that really caught my eye. Don’t get me wrong I thought all these photos were great, but this one helped me visualize what the photographer must have been witness to through his photos.”

He looks back at you with a surprised expression.

“That’s a really interesting take on the photo, I thought you just thought the man in it was attractive.”

You laugh slightly, “You can’t see much of looks from a person’s back.”

This has the man doubling over in laughter, much to your surprise. You look around the room to see if any of the other patrons are staring at the man, you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed at the attention. Then you looked back at the man and his blinding smile and you cannot help but return the same emotion. And for the first time, in a long time, you began to feel captivated with this man.

His laughter seizes yet his smile remains as he turns his body to face you, “I am Jaebeom by the way.”

He says while extending his hand out to you. You are now able to see his entire face as you grip his hand in a greeting. To your surprise, he had a silver nose ring on his right side, along with multiple piercings all up and down his ears. It was your first time feeling such an attraction to a man’s jewelry. You blink rapidly realizing you had just been grasping his hand in silence for some time, but he didn’t seem to mind. You tell him your name before dropping your connected hands, he repeats it softly as if he was saying it for only him to hear.

“Did you come by yourself tonight?” He asks.

“Is that some form of a pick-up line?” You reply back snarkily which has the man chuckling at your playful banter.

“It’s only a pickup line if it works,” he states causing your head to nod in agreement.

“Well then yes, I am alone if you must know.”

“Fascinating. I would have definitely assumed you to just be here on a date, not actually here for the art,” he says.

You scoff, “How pretentious of you to assume such a thing,” you say.

“I’m a photography student if you couldn’t guess, so I am most definitely here for the art.”

“I meant no offense,” he holds his ringer clad hands up in a form of surrender. “It was just a simple observation due to the other people here tonight.”

He wasn’t wrong about that, you thought. The gallery was littered with different couples strolling throughout the space. Love could easily be seen in the air the minute you walked in. Not that you minded, of course. If you had allowed yourself to date you would also think to come to an art gallery like this, spending time with someone you were attracted to amongst gorgeous imagery, it was quite romantic.

“This does seem to be a hot-spot for couples tonight,” you note back to him.

“So, what would you say if I asked you to come out for a drink with me tonight instead of staying here?” He asks you.

“What, are the lovebirds kind of cramping your style?” You laugh back at his sudden suggestion.

He laughs at this before continuing, “Not necessarily. I’m just interested in you, I thought maybe a good way of getting to know more about the beautiful girl from the gallery would be over a couple of drinks.”

You smile shyly looking away from him, “I don’t know, I was kind of curious to see if this secret photographer would show themselves by the end of the night.”

“Trust me, he’s not one for introductions.”

He? You thought to yourself, how could Jaebeom know the gender of the photographer? Perhaps he had been coming to Defsoul’s exhibitions enough to have eventually met the elusive photographer.

Perhaps you should take Jaebeom up on his offer. Hell, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had been out for a drink. Especially with a man as good-looking as Jaebeom. Maybe you could finally allow yourself to let loose, just this once.

“Well, in that case, you lead the way,” he smiles at your response. Jaebeom raises his hand inviting you to take hold. You do so while smiling, excited for what the night shall bring.

Jaebeom grips your hand tightly as you two make your way throughout the lamp-lit city streets. Your heart is beating wildly every time he would look back to check if you were still there, grinning when he is met with your presence. The two of you walk hand-in-hand as he tells you he is taking you to one of his favorite lounges in the city, you can’t help your excitement.

You two finally arrive at the bar, the exterior of the building is ornate in nature with vintage signage and lights decorating the brick walls. Jaebeom drops his grasp on your hand to open the large wooden door allowing you to step inside first, what a gentleman you thought. Inside the lounge the cigar smoke twisted in an elegant way, forming curls in the dim light. The room was illuminated solely by the age-speckled bar lights. Jaebeom finds an empty booth towards the back for you two to sit. A smartly dressed waiter comes around to grab drink orders and skirts away hurriedly after. You sit back a bit in your seat trying to calm your nerves by looking around the room.

You wouldn’t exactly describe yourself as an introverted person, but this definitely was a new experience for you. Coming out with a man you barely knew, to a part of town you were unfamiliar with, just for drinks. It was all so different for you, but there was something about Jaebeom that made you feel a certain sense of security. It was usually pretty easy for you to tell when a guy was a complete sleaze-bag and Jaebeom definitely did not give off that impression. Still, you couldn’t help but feel slightly shy to be with such a handsome man.

“I’m so curious to hear what you are thinking,” Jaebeom speaks up from the other end of the table.

You turn to look at him and notice his chin perched on his hand as he stares dreamily at you with his deep-set eyes. You go red as you realize he must have been studying you this entire time.

“I was just thinking about how all of this is a very new experience for me,” you respond back.

“What exactly?”

“Just this,” you emphasize your words by swinging your finger in the space between the two of you.

“I’ve never said yes to drinks with a man I had met less than an hour before.”

“You don’t say,” he chuckles. “I would imagine a girl as beautiful as you would have plenty of suitors waiting to take you out for a simple cocktail.”

You laugh at this. It’s not that men have not tried taking you out in the past, they most certainly did. You were just in a place with your life that didn’t allow you the capacity for any man. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded, really. You knew that at this point in your life the things that were the most important to you were school and finding your place in the competitive field of photography. No man could ever distract you from this dream of yours.

“Even so,” you begin. “I don’t really have the time for any sort of man in my life right now.”

“So then why did you agree to come out with me?” Jaebeom asks you.

That was a good question, why did you say yes? Despite the fact that Jaebeom had been one of the most attractive men to ever approach you, you wondered what it was about him that pulled your attention so strongly.

“I’m not sure why exactly it’s kind of hard to explain,” you say. “I just feel comfortable in your presence.”

This was something new to hear for Jaebeom. Mysterious, chic, sexy. These were all things Jaebeom was used to hearing from women, but “comfortable” was new. Little did you know, you were also a new experience entirely for him. The other women Jaebeom had encountered in his life felt like nothing more than a shallow quest for lust or domination with him. But you, he wanted to know so much more about the girl sitting across from him. Your dreams, inhibitions, fears. He could listen to you ramble on all night.

“I feel the same way,” he replies back coolly, to which you beam back a tender smile.

The rest of the night with Jaebeom is filled with giddy conversation between the two of you, both anxious to learn more about the other. You share with him things that some of your closest friends did not even know about you, but that was the power he held. He somehow was able to fluster you like a shy schoolgirl and yet hold your hand so sincerely that it felt as if you had known him for years. Drinks and conversation flowed throughout the few hours you spent with him at the lounge, effectively easing all your anxiety.

Once the two of you got onto the topic of photography there was no stopping the excitement. You could see in his eyes he loved it just as much as you, but ultimately he feared he was not good enough to be professional. You related closely to this worry, also sharing the hardships you faced with the creative aspect of it all. The way Jaebeom was able to relate so deeply to you on this issue made him all the more attractive to you, but that could also be the drinks talking.

“Of course you also make music,” you laugh at the man across from you at his recent confession.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He gawks back at you.

“Nothing offensive really,” you begin.

“It just fits your whole image you know. The gorgeous man I met at the exhibit is also incredibly deep and creative,” you joke with him.

He smiles and nods his head understanding that to most people he appears that way. Not that he minded, of course, he just wished sometimes he wasn’t so easy to read.

“Gorgeous, huh?”

He completely ignores your other statements to instead put you on the spot, but to his surprise, you don’t seem the least bit bashful. Instead, you take a long sip from your drink before setting it down with a soft thud. Looking him in the eye as if to say, “Did I stutter?” Jaebeom smirks and breaks his eye contact, absentmindedly twirling the small cocktail straw in his almost empty glass.

“I want to hear your music,” you say breaking him from his trance.

He looks up to see you leaning in on the table excitedly, a small flame of mischief burning behind your eyes.

He leans in towards you, “Really?”

You nod.

“Well then, let’s get out of here.”

You knew just as well as anyone what it meant to go back to his place and listen to his music, but that was exactly what you wanted. Jaebeom hails over the waiter closing up your tab before you both exit the bar to the crisp Autumn night air. As if on cue, a taxi pulls in front of where the two of you stood, allowing a handsome young couple to exit its backseat. Jaebeom takes the opportunity, seizing the door open for you to step into the now emptied seats of the taxi. He joins in after you quickly telling the older man who was driving the taxi his address.

The ride began innocently enough. Silent, as you two sat next to one another, too nervous to make eye contact. Because you knew as soon as you looked, things would take a drastic turn, but you were always too curious for your own good. You turn your head slightly to catch Jaebeom looking at you, not in your eyes, but everywhere else. From the way that your legs were crossed to your innocently folded hands in your lap, the curves of your body, the long expanse of your neck, until finally, into your lust-filled eyes. That was all it took.

Jaebeom was the first to snap, instantly latching his hand onto the back of your neck in order to bring your lips onto his. You more than happily obliged bringing your own hands to rest on his taut shoulders, molding your lips unto his. The connection was everything you imagined. Hot, rushed, and oh so gratifying. You could taste the deep bitters of his drink as his tongue danced across your lip, your own tongue eager to meet his. He groaned into your mouth once he felt the connection which in turn had you draping a leg across his lap attempting for your bodies to be closer. You felt somewhat sorry for the cab driver, but you mostly didn’t care.

Jaebeom grips your leg that is draped over him feeling the soft flesh beneath your tight jeans. God, he only imagined what you looked like completely exposed to him. The thought had to wait as the two of you could feel the car come to an abrupt stop, followed by an awkward cough from the front seat. You both break free and stare into each other’s dark gazes, unable to shake the overwhelming amount of lust. It took a second clearing of the cab driver’s throat to snap the trance and leave his car. Jaebeom handed the man the cab fare, being sure to tip him generously, before exiting the car and extending a hand out to you. You take it graciously after saying a quick “thank you” to the driver.

Once outside the cab, the pace of the evening leveled out. Jaebeom, now calm and collected, takes your hand in his, smiling at you briefly before guiding you to a rather expensive-looking building. It was late at night when you two arrived, yet upon entering the bright lobby you notice a rather well-dressed attendant sitting modestly behind a large desk. She looks up from her desk to see who had entered. Upon gazing at Jaebeom she stands and bows her head silently in a form of saying “Welcome.” Jaebeom smiles politely at her while still having you in tow towards the titanium elevator doors. They open upon his touch of the button allowing you both to step inside.

The feeling of being next to Jaebeom in the elevator versus the taxi was entirely different. While the backseat of the taxi was filled with nothing but lust for one another, the elevator was quiet. Utter silence from you both as you anxiously spare looks to one another. Whenever one of you caught the other’s eye it would be hard to hide your bashful smiles. Your stomach was doing flips in expectancy of what was to come. The doors part, you had arrived.

Jaebeom enters his apartment with relative ease, despite his nerves making it difficult to punch in his door code. Once the two of you were inside is when he finally began to speak, “Can I offer you anything to drink? Wine? Water?”

“Wine sounds lovely, thank you,” you respond back.

He smiles, “Wine it is. Please make yourself at home while I go get us some glasses.”

Then he is off, leaving you to wander about his apartment curiously. It was relatively a clean place, or rather there just wasn’t much furniture in general. Simplistic and chic. You couldn’t think of a more fitting apartment for Jaebeom. You walk about the space coming unto what seemed to be a living room with a single black leather loveseat and a computer desk against the opposite wall. You make your way over to the couch sitting down gently.

Not long after, Jaebeom appears from the doorway holding two glasses of a deep red wine. He chuckles nervously extending one glass to you. Jesus, he was so endearing. You take the glass with a small smile and thank him, bringing the bitter liquid to your lips.

“Did you still want me to play you some of my work?” Jaebeom asks nervously, still standing above you.

You had almost completely forgotten that was the whole reason you wanted to come. You were too enraptured by the beautiful man’s aura.

“Yes please, play me something,” you say excitedly.

He takes a sip of his wine and smiles before turning his back and walking towards the computer. He types away for about a minute before a soft melody can be heard throughout the room. You look to see speakers installed all around your head creating a hypnotic atmosphere. You close your eyes and sway, finding yourself getting lost in the beats and pretty vocals of his song. It isn’t until you feel a dip in the seat next to you that you open your eyes to see the expectant face of Jaebeom at your side.

“You really made this?”

“Yeah, that’s my voice if you can’t tell,” he replies nervously bringing a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

“I don’t know as much about music as I do photography, but this is really good,” you say to him which has him chuckling and shaking his head. “No, really I mean it.”

He looks up at you to see that you were in fact being genuine. He felt more proud then than at any other moment he could remember. Jaebeom sets his wine glass down on the coffee table next to yours before turning his full attention towards you, tucking a soft hair behind one of your ears.

“You’re really something, did you know that?” He asks you, with a voice just barely above a whisper.

Your heart pounded loudly in your chest at the sudden close proximity, but God did you love this man’s presence. You leaned slightly into his hand that was still hovering near the side of your face, allowing him to cup your cheek affectionately.

“That’s funny,” you say. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

He’s smiling at you now, staring deeply into your shining eyes. The self-control he had completely left him at that point. He leans into you slowly, allowing you time to register what was about to happen. You close the gap, kissing him softly. He sighs into the kiss, languidly moving his lips against yours while at the same time grabbing your hips to move your body closer. You reciprocate and bring it a step further, throwing one leg over his lap to straddle his thighs, never once breaking apart your lips.

He takes a shaky breath the minute your body softly grinds onto his. God, he was intoxicating. You were so eager to elicit more responses from him, to watch him come undone, so you snake your hands into his long hair, earning an appreciative moan. You can’t help but whine at the sound, wanting nothing more than to feel his body pressed against yours.

Jaebeom seems to know your thoughts exactly because in one moment he is sweeping you up off of the couch, legs still fastened tightly around him, making his way towards what you can only assume to be his bedroom. He would stop occasionally to press you against a nearby wall, breaking from your lips he would decorate your neck in soft kisses. The scent of his musky cologne exhilarating your thoughts. Finally, he reaches his bedroom, dropping you down to your feet softly with a thud.

“I want you,” he breaths out onto your abused lips.

“Then you can have me,” you whisper. “All of me.”

He groans at your response as it seems they were the exact words he wished to hear. Swiftly Jaebeom grabs at your top peeling it off over your head leaving you clad in a simple black bra. If you had known you would be seen naked tonight you would have opted for something a little sexier, but Jaebeom doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, his head instantly drops to your cleavage, pushing your breasts eagerly up into his face as he begins to kiss and suck at your skin surely leaving marks for you to remember him by. You breathe out at the sensual feeling, greedy to feel his skin against your own.

You reach below him to tug at his black t-shirt hinting at how much you wanted it off of his body. He understands, breaking away from your chest to pull his shirt over his head. His chest is broad and milky, illuminated from the streetlights outside his bedroom window. You can’t help yourself, bringing a hand to rest against the middle of his chest. You felt him, all of him. The warmth, the sweat, the anticipation, all of it rested just below your fingertips. Slowly you drag your hand lower, noting the shiver that ran through Jaebeom’s body at your soft caresses. You reach his belt, playing with it you look up at him through your lashes, batting them innocently.

“Fuck-” he says. “If you keep looking at me that way, I don’t think I can control myself.”

“Perfect,” you say, pulling him closer by his belt loop. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You have no idea where this sense of confidence has come from. Normally during sex, you tend not to be much of a talker, letting the man do as he pleases. Tonight felt different from all those nights before. Jaebeom made you a different person, someone who felt bold enough to take control. You liked this person he created, and he seemed to be just as pleased.

He smirks at you, enjoying your teasing nature, he pulls you flush against his skin. He holds your eye contact for a moment before firmly turning your body so that your back meets his chest. You gasp as you feel him move your hair to the side, decorating lustful kisses along your shoulder and neck. His hands find purchase on your hips, greedily massaging them while also forcing your ass to grind onto his already stiff cock straining against his jeans. You moan at the feeling, taking pride in the effect you had on him.

“Do you like that, baby?” He asks you. “The feeling of my hard cock against you?”

The man could talk dirty, you thought, could he be any more attractive?

You don’t reply with words. Instead, you grind your backside harder against him, causing a hiss to fall from his lips. You lull your head back dreamily, getting lost in the feeling of your bodies moving together, both of you ravenous for any sort of friction. While his hands stayed firmly on your hips you took this opportunity to grab at one of his hands, bringing it upward to your chest, encouraging Jaebeom to massage your breasts. He happily obliges, feeling up your warm body with his rough hands, your scent invigorating his mind.

“I want you to strip for me, then go lay on the bed,” Jaebeom softly commands in your ear, effectively snapping you out of your daze.

There was something about his assertive tone that sent heat straight to your core, you were so eager to feel him there. He takes a step away from your body allowing you space to remove your clothes, and you do so. You look over your shoulder at him to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth, anticipating your show. You reach down for the button of your jeans undoing it in a slow and sultry way until you are able to strip the fabric down your legs.

Jaebeom intently watches your scantily clad figure which in turn gave you the confidence to continue. You put on a bit of a show with your movements, matching your swaying hips to his music that could still be heard inside the bedroom. Once you step your feet out of your jeans you turn your body so it is facing his. There is still a bit of space between your bodies, but the tension is extreme. You reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, taking one strap between your fingers as you allow the bra to drop.

Upon seeing your bare chest a fire ignites behind Jaebeom’s eyes. You smirk, with still swaying hips, you hook two fingers into your panties. Turning once more to give him a view of your backside, you dance your way out of the soft material, letting it gather around your feet. Finally, now completely bare, you make your way to his large king bed adorned with fresh white sheets. Crawling on all fours up the bed, making sure to arch your back for the best view, you flip your body onto the bed awaiting his arrival.

Jaebeom drinks this all in. The music, fragrances, lights, visuals, and the ambiance of seeing your bare body lay upon his white sheets, decorated purely by the moonlight. Without waiting for a second longer he rids himself of the last of his clothing, pushing his jeans and boxers down with haste. He walks to the foot of the bed, softly caressing your calves as he climbs up the expanse of your body. Your eyes meet his hazily, running your gentle hands along his forearms until his forehead is resting softly against yours.

“Can I taste you?”

Your mind is in a haze at his request, but who were you to say no?

Your head nods at his request and he smiles. Kissing your lips passionately before dragging them lower and lower down your body. Occasionally Jaebeom would nip and suck on parts of your skin, causing your body to tremor. Until finally you began to feel his heated breaths over your core. You gripped the sheets expectantly, unconsciously tensing your body in anticipation. He gives each of your thighs one last kiss before licking a strong tongue through your core.

You moan instantly, surprised by how sensitive you were from just one touch. Jaebeom doesn’t stop, he grabs hold of your thighs effectively throwing them over his broad shoulders. At first, his licks are long and languid, causing your hips to fall in motion with his tongue. Once he begins to feel your thighs tense at the sensations he picks up his pace, switching from licking up your core to occasionally wrapping his lips around your clit.

You feel electric waves throughout your body at his movements. At one particular suck, you moan out into the night, threading a hand through Jaebeom’s hair, which in turn has him groaning into you. He too was lost in the pleasure he was giving you. From your scent to your heavenly moans he couldn’t stop himself from grinding down against his mattress eager for some relief on his achingly hard cock.

“Jaebeom please, I need to feel you inside of me, please,” you manage to moan out wanting nothing more than for your bodies to become one.

Although Jaebeom wanted so badly to see your body come undone from his tongue alone, he too was starting to get impatient. One last suck to your clit before he is climbing back up your body, greedily you reach for him and connect your lips. He moans at your soft sucks against his tongue, desperate for you to taste your own arousal.

Shockingly, you are able to flip your bodies over allowing you to climb on top of Jaebeom’s beautiful body. You break away from the kiss to sit up and see him. There he was in all his glory. The stoic man from the gallery naked and heaving beneath you, so eager to be inside of you. You smile sweetly at him and he groans, taking his painfully hard cock into your hand you stroke him tenderly, to which he throws his head back in excitement. Without waiting a second longer you align him with your dripping core, slowing sinking him deep inside of you.

You release an intense sigh that you didn’t know you were holding. Jaebeom moans at the warm feeling of your pussy wrapped tightly around him, he then looks to see where your bodies meet. As if on cue you begin to sway your hips back in forth, still in rhythm with the music coming from the living room. The pace is slow and sensual, just as you like.

Jaebeom felt as if he could feel every little movement. From the way your beautiful hips swayed to your hands pressed firmly on his chest, he savored every second. His hands come to rest against your hips once again, encouraging your movements. Moans spill from your mouth as you get lost in the feeling of him buried so deep inside of you.

“Oh god,” you cry out.

Jaebeom is blissed out in the feeling, allowing you full control; he loses himself in the moment, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the song. You too let your body take over and allow your mind to float above the two of you making love. You can hear the melody too.

난 네게 눈이 멀었고

(I became blinded by you)

넌 내게 눈이 멀었겄지

(You probably became blinded by me)

우리 서로만을 보았고

(We only saw each other)

이 세상에 둘만 있었겠지

(We probably were the only ones in the world)

Jaebeom begins to lose his patience as he can feel his end nearing. You yelp with surprise as his strong arms wrap against your frame, flipping you onto your back. You squeeze around him from his dominant change in nature, he groans at the feeling.

“I want to feel you come all around me, baby,” he tells you.

You nod back ready for him to ravish your body. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder giving him the best angle for you both. The pace from before is completely different. While you took your time with Jaebeom while you rode him, when he was on top he fucked you, hard.

Sheathing himself back inside of you so hard and fast you both scream out in pleasure. He wastes no time fucking you raw, trying to chase the high you both so desperately longed for. His movements are fast yet calculated, effectively hitting your sweet spot every time he entered you. You were desperate to hold on to reality gripping the sheets above your head as you moaned loudly. Jaebeom saw this action and instead moved your hands to his hair.

“I want you to show me how good I’m making you feel,” he says to you in his gruff voice.

You understand his wish, grabbing his hair just as tightly as he fucked you, earning an appreciative groan from him spurring on his movements further.

You felt your end coming. It was like a small fire that suddenly began to blister in the pit of your stomach. Your chest heaved for air as you gripped his hair even tighter, warning him. He understood.

“Come on, baby, I need to feel you come, please,” his words did just the trick.

The fire turned into an explosion as the white-hot orgasm swept through your body. You trembled in his hold as he thoroughly fucked you through your high. Once you came down you noticed his brows furrowed and his movements began to waver. You released his hair to hold him close to your body, encouraging him to let go.

He eventually reaches his own high as he drops his head to your shoulder, you hold him close as he moans out deliciously into your ear. His movements stutter as he tiredly milks his orgasm to completion. He slumps his body against yours, slick with sweat the two of you stay connected for some time attempting to calm your breaths.

Tiredly you stroke your hand softly up and down his back lullingly. You begin to feel the effect of all the alcohol in your system as you fought to keep your eyes open. Too at peace with where you were, you allowed yourself to become a victim of slumber while caressing Jaebeom’s naked frame.

When morning broke, you expected to be woken by the bright sunshine pouring into his room. Instead, the thing that woke you from your slumber was the distinct click of what you only know to be the sound of a film camera. Still naked in his sheets you turn your body over to see an equally naked Jaebeom perched at the foot of the bed with a small camera plastered to his face. The morning sun decorated his frame in the most beautiful way, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

He lowers the camera slowly from his face, gauging your reaction, “Sorry I just thought you looked so perfect lying there. Does it bother you?”

You shake your head no. He smiles and climbs up his bed to be with you again in the early morning light. He lays at your side and you turn your full body to him, he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. You both stay there for what felt like an eternity. Mindlessly you both would let your fingers dance along the other’s naked form, basking in the soft flesh below. The silence was infectious, filling your soul with content. You never wanted this feeling to end.

──

“Can I just say what an honor it is to be accompanying you on this gorgeous Friday night,” Jinyoung smiles at you. “The forsaken Friday nights that you would normally spend in solitude, per your own request, but I am the first one to break that tradition. Really it is a privilege.”

You laugh at Jinyoung’s over-the-top monologue. Jinyoung wasn’t wrong, he was the first person you had ever asked to accompany you on this Friday night. Your friends all knew the deal, Friday nights were for your alone time, for your creativity to rekindle.

“You are just too handsome to say no to,” you reply back sweetly, reaching up to Jinyoung planting a swift kiss on his cheek. His eyes crinkle in the most adorable fashion.

As much as you had grown and changed in the past couple of months, Jinyoung was always a constant in your life. Before you used to be so caught up in your art and finding inspiration that you never gave the cute boy from your English class the time of day. Often times Jinyoung would ask you out for the occasional coffee or study date to which you would always find an excuse not to go. It surprised you that even after all his failed attempts he even still wanted to take you out, so ultimately you agreed. You could say that perhaps you had a change of heart. Something eventually opened your eyes to his affection for you.

After walking some time the two of you finally make it to the exhibit. The words “Awake.” displayed in white neon outside the entrance. Looking to Jinyoung and smiling you both make your way through the large entryway. Subtly you feel him slide his fingers through your own, and your body heats at the affection.

It had been quite some time since Defsoul had held any sort of photography exhibition. In fact, the last one being just over six months ago. Although the photographer was still active through social media you were surprised as to why it had taken them so long to put on another show. You remembered just how much you fell in love with their work last time that you were eager to see what else they had in store.

As the two of you walk hand-in-hand throughout the gallery you instantly notice the ambiance of this show to be vastly different from the one you had attended months before. The air was lighter, the photographs themselves felt brighter than before, and even the conversations between the patrons were airier. Jinyoung would occasionally point to certain photos attempting his best at discussing the art of photography in order to impress you. You would smile at his attempts, bringing his body closer to yours the more you strolled throughout the space.

Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the night you shared with Jaebeom just months before where you met him at one of these exhibits. It had been so long since you had even thought of him or his name that you had almost forgotten. Though the feelings you felt never disappeared.

You catch yourself smiling at the memory before looking up at one of the larger displays in the studio. You stopped dead in your tracks upon looking, your breath caught in your throat as you just stared. It was you, not your face, your naked backside peeking perfectly out of his crisp white sheets, the morning sun playing through your soft hair beautifully. There you were on full display for the whole world to see.

The world around you faded as you sat and stared, Jinyoung taking notice finally to what you had been looking at, “That is gorgeous, I think this might be my favorite one so far.”

You can’t hear him as your mind was reeling a mile a minute. It was then in that moment you came to realize everything. His sheets, his bed, his room, his photograph. This was his show, Jaebeom was Defsoul. How could you have not seen it before?

You looked about the room frantically, fear striking you as you noticed the other patron’s eyes glued to the huge mural of you, Jinyoung too being entranced with the photo. Anxiety bubbled over into your stomach. That was until you saw it, the title: Muse.

You didn’t know why exactly upon reading the simple word that tears began to pool in your eyes. Again you looked around the room. You needed to see him, to confirm your thoughts. You needed to know who Jaebeom really was. Then suddenly there he stood, perfect as ever.

Jaebeom stood meters away from you and Jinyoung, the bodies of the other patrons crossed your paths as the two of you just stared at each other. He looked just as stunning as that night, that one fateful night. His gaze is soft on yours as if to ask if you were okay. You cannot answer him, still in too much shock.

Until Jaebeom looks to Jinyoung, your connected hands, and then finally you, he smiles warmly. Little did you know that this is exactly what Jaebeom wanted to see for you. Your happiness above all else. To others, what the two of you shared could easily be written off as just some other one night stand, but he knew it was so much more. He cared for you in ways he never thought he would be able to feel for another person. And so he was happy, if he couldn’t be the one holding your hand in this gallery, he was glad you had someone to take his place. You deserved as much.

A tear finally escapes your eye as you continue to gaze at Jaebeom’s sincere expression, laughing slightly you brush the tear away. You felt no anger, no embarrassment. Because what Jaebeom said was right, for that night you spent together, he too was your own muse. The spark you needed at that moment. You needed him then just as much as he did.

Without leaving his eyes, you bow your head slightly, doing something you realized you never did that night. You thanked him. He raised a wine glass in recognition. Then he was gone, swallowed into the sea of people who would never know his true identity.

“I didn’t know photography moved you that much,” Jinyoung says to you while wiping your tears away, a look of concern etched into his features.

You laugh, dropping your head bashfully before raising your eyes again to look at Jinyoung. You were so content with the way you began to live your life since meeting Jaebeom. For so long you had deprived yourself of the one thing that should have mattered the most, your happiness.

It was fate for you and Jaebeom to meet each other that night, but you knew it was only meant for that one night. Jaebeom was the trigger for you to stop living inside the constrictive box you created for yourself. You felt inspiration more than ever through your art, which in turn greatly improved your abilities. You also finally allowed yourself love, and to share that love with someone who genuinely wanted you.

Now with Jinyoung, you had never felt more at peace in not only yourself but your life. Rising to his height you capture Jinyoung’s lips with yours. He smiles against you and reciprocates your affection. This is who you were meant to be with tonight, and for every night thereafter.

#got7 fanfic #got7 smut #got7 #jaebeom #im jaebeom #fanfic #smut #jaebeom fanfic #jaebeom smut #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #jinyoung

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aestheticpoems · 3 years ago

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“Little Women” is an engaging adaptation of Louisa May Alcott's classic novel that depicts a very heart-warming story of four sisters. It features an amazing ensemble cast, including Saoirse Ronan, Emma Watson, Florence Pugh, Eliza Scanlen, and Timothee Chalamet. Besides the remarkable performance of these actors and actresses, the film has a beautiful artistic style in terms of cinematography and soundtrack. The back-and-forth timeline also signifies the growth of each character throughout the years.

1. Meg March

She was the eldest of the March sisters. As a young lady, she had always been fascinated by luxurious things. But as she matured, she understood that contentment was the key to genuine happiness. I could say that her character taught me so many life lessons. I learned how to be grateful for simple blessings. She made me recognize that real wealth did not lie in money. I appreciated a lifestyle that emphasizes the beauty in simplicity. Indeed, simple living offers numerous benefits to individuals' health, happiness, and life enjoyment.

2. Jo March

She was my favorite character among the March sisters. I was so proud of her when she pursued her passion for writing, instead of marrying someone else. I recognized that women had a hard time speaking their minds during those times but unlike Jo, she wasn't afraid to stand up for women's significant role in society. That's why I adored her dedication and perseverance, insisting on living a meaningful life. She also inspired me to fulfill my dream as a good writer.

3. Beth March

She was the most relatable character among the March sisters. I felt so connected to her personality and interests. Like her, I was an introverted person who achieves enthusiasm by spending time alone. I always preferred staying inside the house instead of having a social life. Moreover, I discovered that she was fond of singing and playing the piano. In this matter, we had similarities because I also loved singing but I didn't know how to play any kind of instrument. Music had always been an important part of my life too.

4. Amy March

She was the youngest of the March sisters. To be honest, my impression of her character was a combination of love and hate. I disliked her for being selfish and ambitious but at the same time, I admired her for being artistic and realistic. She took everything upon herself to provide for her family instead of going after her dreams. Although she was so immature during her childhood days, it was proven that she had a lot of character development as an adult.

I admired the love story of John and Meg from the beginning until the end of the film. They made me realize that marriage wasn't always easy but it's well worth fighting for. It was inevitable that all couples had ups and downs. However, they proved that good communication serves as an effective way of having healthy relationships. It allowed both parties to develop trust and respect as well as to attain a clearer understanding of each other's point of view. Hence, I believed that love was the greatest force in the universe.

The long-lasting friendship between Laurie and Jo was incredibly beautiful. Honestly, I cried my heart out when they didn't end up together. I would never deny that I wished for them to be a couple. Nonetheless, I felt so relieved when Jo rejected Laurie's proposal since I had so many realizations after analyzing their conversation. She always knew he secretly loved her. That's why she always hoped that he wouldn't bring it up. I felt like she tried to love him back but still, she failed. I believed they were meant to be platonic soulmates, not to be romantic lovers.

From my own perspective, the relationship between Laurie and Amy was a little bit rushed. I wished I had gotten to see more of their love story. It seemed like Laurie only shifted his love from Jo to Amy since he wanted to be married to one of the March sisters. Laurie's feelings for Amy would be more convincing if he had more interactions with her than Jo. Nevertheless, they were probably destined to fall in love with each other.

Based on my interpretation, Friedrich and Jo never got married. It was only a depiction of the ending of her book, not her real life. However, I enjoyed the chemistry between them. I couldn't stop myself from laughing when Friedrich roasted Jo about her writing style but at the same time, I found them adorable together. I was so glad because she had finally found a man who supports her passion for writing.

Beth's death was the most heartbreaking part of the story. In this version, the bond between Jo and Beth felt stronger to me. I would never forget when they went on a trip to the seashore, hoping the fresh air would help Beth get better. I truly admired Jo for taking care of her without any complaints. They made me recognize that sisters would always be connected by the heart. Indeed, nothing in this world could underestimate the power of sisterhood.

As a woman, I appreciate the empowering central message of the film. It highlights a lot of influential things such as family, marriage, friendship, morality, independence, and women's rights. Furthermore, it celebrates the hearts, minds, and souls of women during those times. I truly adore how the four sisters embrace their femininity by recognizing their intrinsic strengths and taking responsibility for their dreams.

#movie review #little women #classic #writings #romance #sisterhood

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

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Never Gonna Be Alone - Chapter 36

Title: Empty

Warnings: profanity, some angst

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @tragiclyhip, @miss-smutty, @alievans007

He watches her as she stands in front of the Christmas tree; countless strings of light bathing pale, smooth skin in a multicoloured glow. She’s at her most beautiful during moments like this; enjoying silence and the relief and relaxation that comes with a warm and comfy house, clad in an oversized plaid nightshirt and her hair slightly damp from a much needed and deserved soak in the tub. She’s always been naturally beautiful; appearing much younger than her actual age and make up only taking away from her features instead of accenting or showcasing them. She’d been perfectly at home in Australia right from the start and had easily adapted to -and adopted- the casual ‘beach’ vibe; constantly bare foot and clad in tanks and shorts with wind swept hair and sun kissed cheeks and the hint of salt lingering on her skin.

While she’d been breathtaking from the very moment he’d laid eyes on her, she’s only become even more so over the years; his love for her growing with each passing day and bringing with it a new found wonderment for every inch of her. Body thicker now; cheeks rounder, breasts fuller, hips wider and curves in all the right places. It’s an appreciation made stronger by not only a strong and seemingly unbreakable bond, but a friendship as well; his truest and most loyal confidant and the keeper of his deepest and darkest secrets and his biggest and most fervent supporter. And the mother of his children. Willingly giving him the large brood that he so desperately had graved; selflessly sacrificing her own body and allowing it to become a safe haven for all the incredible little human beings that would grow and thrive inside of her. Watching someone grow bigger with your child and then become a mother brings on a whole new level of adoration and respect; putting them even higher on the pedestal that you long ago constructed for them.

Her body sways from side to side; slowly and rhythmically in an attempt to keep Tabby quiet and content. The baby had spent the better part of an hour extremely unsettled; fussy and irritable as she continued to fight sleep without the comfort of either parent. They’d offered to keep both children and Ovi and Riya had jumped at the chance; planning on coffee and dessert at an all night cafe close to their home in Queens. With two little ones and his hectic and overwhelming schedule at the hospital, it makes it nearly impossible for them to get any alone time together; much needed considering the several months of non stop wedding planning and the stress and headaches that had accompanied it. Ovi would return for his daughters -and for breakfast with the family- in the morning; Tabby accompanying him and Tanner to the American Museum of Natural History while Micki got to enjoy time with grandpa and lunch and a shopping spree at the American Doll store.

The time together as a family is rare; thousands of miles and a handful of different time zones separating them. Moving to New York City simply out of the question; neither Tyler or any of the kids fully able to get comfortable and happy in a much bigger and chaotic place. Australia is where their hearts are; their dream home tucked away at the end of a gravel street and accompanied by acres of both forest and beach. It’s quiet and it’s relatively secluded; giving him the privacy that he craves and the sense of the security that he needs in regards to his family. And while Esme had spent years living in the Big Apple and had loved her time there and once dreamed endlessly about going back and finding an area to settle down in, those feelings have long dissipated. Content with simply visiting a handful of times throughout the year; getting to experience the different seasons and enjoying the magic of a white Christmas and loving the convenience of being somewhere so vast and populated.

He had mentioned it a time or two; perhaps moving back to the States and calling the brownstone their permanent residence while using their home in Cooktown as their ‘getaway’ spot. But she’d vehemently argued against it; not keen on the idea of permanently living in her country of origin. Her happiness and her own sense of peace long ago settled Down Under; falling in love with the people and experiencing genuine awe and wonderment with every stunning sunset and brilliant sunrise. It’s where her heart is. Where it always HAS been. She left it behind years ago when they’d been forced to flee; her happiness lingering in that little two bedroom apartment that they’d called home. It hadn’t been much; the rooms shockingly small and filled with second hand furniture. But it’s where their love for each other had been fully discovered; getting to know each other -outside of sex- while he recovered from the wounds suffered in Dhaka and she’d been growing and nurturing their child inside of her.

Most of all, he’d enjoyed having her -the love of his life- in his homeland; marvelling at how she so effortlessly blended in, proud of how not only the locals so willingly and easily accepting and falling in love with her, but how she handled being thousands of miles away from her own home. Although he was -and still is- notoriously private and withdrawn, she made acquaintances so easily; Aussies quickly drawn to that bubbly personality and that cheerful and positive outlook on life despite everything she’d been through. She’d taken the place by storm; falling in love with her new life and thriving in the environment and getting up every day ready to tackle the mountain of change just dropped into her lap. Her dreams still haunted by what had taken place in Bangladesh, but her heart still so open and accepting; taking every opportunity to explore everything around her and quickly returning to loving life and everything in it. And even on the hardest of days, she’d never fail to make him smile. The way she’d giggle when learning all the slang words or how her nose would crinkle in disgust and she’d give a long, drawn out ‘ewwww’ whenever he attempted to turn her into a Vegemite lover. The fascination in her eyes whenever they’d hit up a zoo or a wildlife reserve and she’d get to come face to face with some of Australia’s most famous of creatures; crying when she got to hold an orphaned koala and then staring in absolute amazement when a kangaroo Joey hopped over and ate goodies straight out of her hand. Even at the beach she was like a little kid on Christmas morning; not quite enjoying the feeling of the sand between her toes, but marvelling at the expanse of the ocean and the way the sunlight sparkled on the water.

Even now she remains in awe of the life she’d been given; he still sees that disbelief that captures her face during a particularly stunning sunset. Mesmerized -and even moved to tears- by the colours; vivid shades of purple, pink and orange. Always expressing how grateful she is. In awe that she’d been given such an amazing opportunity; an incredible life in a beautiful place with someone that loves and worships her and children that absolutely adore her.

He doesn’t speak as he joins her; placing both hands on her shoulders and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. He savours the moment. Eyes closed and his palms running up and down her arms; face buried in her hair as he deeply inhales the familiar yet still alluring scent that clings to those dark, damp tresses. And with a peck to the cheek he steps alongside of her; hand moving to her shoulder as he tucks her tightly into her side.

“She okay?”

Esme nods, then smiles down at the little one resting along her arm. Still fighting sleep but quiet and content; snuggled tightly into her grandmother’s chest and wrapped tightly in Addie’s well loved blanket. “She is now. You just had a bit of a hard time, didn’t you Tabby. You were just missing momma.”

He moves his hand down and settles it on her hip. Reaching across her with the other, a callused palm rests gently on the top of the baby’s head; his thumb smoothly and repeatedly brushing against her brow. Tabby gives a content sigh and long yawn in response; enormous brown eyes -constantly fluttering as they continue their valiant battle to stay open- staring up at him.

Esme tugs the faded and tattered blanket upwards, smoothing it around Tabby's tiny body.

“Everyone asleep?”

“The oldest are still awake. I told them to keep it down. So they wouldn’t wake the littles up. I might have threatened them a couple times; told them I’d take their tablets away AND throw them...the kids...not the iPads...out into the snow.”

“Might work for a little bit. I think they’re used to you by now ; they know daddy is full of empty threats.”

“Guess it will really shock the shit out of them when I finally do act on it and out they go.”

“I’ll see it when I believe it. I’ll probably be the one that snaps first and DOES offer them as sacrifices to the sharks.”

“That threat held in there longer than I thought it would. We still have three that fall for it.”

“Let’s hope it continues for a little while more. She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Esme muses, beaming down at the baby and then up at him. “Absolutely perfect.”

“She is,” he agrees, and places a lingering kiss to his wife’s temple.

“And so beautiful,” she looks down at their granddaughter once more. “Just like her mommy.”

“And like her grandma.”

She gives a quiet laugh and looks up at him. It’s always there; all that love and adoration and pride that she possesses for him. It never fails to make his breath catch; overwhelmed by the amount of blind faith and trust that she holds for him. “As much as I appreciate you feeding my ego, that compliment would only work if we were biologically related.”

“Doesn’t matter, babe. You’re beautiful. And I love you. So fucking much.”

“Christmas time always gets you right in the feels, doesn’t it,” she teases, and then moves to stand in front of him; body pressed tightly into his and the back of her head resting against his chest.

“Not just Christmas lately. A lot of things, it seems.”

“I like it. When you’re sweet and sappy.” She tilts her head back to look up at him, a soft smile curving her lips. “And adorable.”

“You know, I SHOULD divorce you for that. Of all the insults you’ve hurled at me…”

“I swear you’d rather me call you a dick head or a shit for brains. Accept it, you’re adorable. You will never, EVER, change my mind. And divorce me? You’d never. You’d miss me way too much. You’d miss me and all my bullshit.”

“I actually would. Would you miss mine? All my crap?”

“I don’t know about that. You CAN be really tiring.”

He frowns.

“I’m kidding. I would take every single ounce of your bullshit over not having you around. You’re relatively tame, considering. Everything you've been through? All the shit handed to you since you were a kid? You could be A LOT worse.”

“That’s a compliment, yeah? I THINK that’s a compliment.”

“It definitely is. When I think about what you've been through? From the time you were little until now? It’s remarkable. That you’re as normal and sane as you are.”

Smirking, he leans down to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Did you really put me and normal and sane in the same sentence?”

“Considering what your father did to you, being in the army and out there in war zones, AND being a mercenary? Babe, you’re lucky to be how you are. You realize that, right? That you could be SO much worse. You could have totally gone in another direction; when it comes to your personal life. You could have easily turned out violent and aggressive and a complete prick. You know how many times I saw that? You know how many mercenaries I came in contact that were horrible, horrible people? Ninety nine percent of them. You? You were...ARE...a total study in contradiction.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way. How much worse things could be. I could be.”

“You could have turned out to be the worst case scenario. You could have been one those that actually LOVED killing other people. Just thrived and got off on the violence and the bloodshed. You could have turned out to be like Gaspar.”

“That’s a little...unsettling.”

“Right? He was nuts. A total sociopath. Look how quick he was to backstab you! Someone he’d known for years! Someone who’d saved his life! He was ready to kill you. To get to me and Ovi. All because you WEREN’T like him. And don’t even get me started on that whole killing doves thing. DOVES. The bird of peace! What the hell kind of person kills THEM?”

“A pretty messed up one.”

“My point exactly. He WAS messed up. Huge. And you could have so easily gone that way. Especially hanging around him. Having him for a friend? That could have been bad news.”

“First off, he wasn’t really what I’d call a friend. It's not like I saw him outside of work. I never visited him, he never visited me, we never talked on the phone or texted or anything like that. Any interaction I had with him was done on the job. And when I WAS around him? I was drunk. That’s what we had in common. Getting wasted.”

“The way he acted and the way he talked, you would have thought you’d been friends since the two of you were in diapers. I still can’t believe he screwed you like he did. You SAVED his ass. And that’s how repays you? Like what the hell?”

“Babe, it’s a long time ago. And yeah, it sucks. It was a bitch move on his part. But I was never, EVER, going to go along with what he wanted.”

“I only asked that once. Five years ago. If you even considered it for a second. I never meant to suggest you were that person Tyler. And I still feel like shit for that. I never meant to hurt you. And I know what I said did. And I’m still sorry I ever said it.”

“Trust me, there’s a long list of things I’m sorry for. Things that I kick myself in the ass for every day. I regret EVER taking you and the kid there.”

“You were just doing what you thought was best. We didn’t really have options, did we. There was really nowhere else for us to go. No way you could have known what he was going to do. It’s not your fault, Tyler. The way things ended up. I’ve never blamed you for any of it.”

“I know.” Curling his arm around her waist, he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Let’s stop this where it is, yeah? There’s no need to talk about it. It was thirteen years ago almost. And I know you’re still pissed and you’re having a hard time getting over some of the stuff that happened. I get it. There’s still shit that bothers me. But can we at least let it lie for now? Until we get home? And bring this all up at therapy? That’s the place it needs to be brought up, don’t you think?”

“You’re right. This is definitely not the place and certainly not the time. Not when I’ve got this little sweetie with me.” She smiles down at the baby in her arms; body commencing its slow and smooth swaying. And she places a hand on Tabby’s stomach; all five fingers immediately curling around one of hers. “He did good, huh? Ovi?”

Tightening his hold on her, he rests his chin on the top of her head. “He did real good. He’s come a long way that’s for sure.”

“He really has. He’s a man now. With his own family. He’s going to be a DOCTOR. Sometimes it seems like just yesterday; trying to keep him calm in that factory in Dhaka. Now he’s living in Queens and he’s got a soon to be wife and two beautiful little girls. How did that happen? How did he grow up so fast? It’s like I blinked and he went from boy to man.”

“It’s been almost thirteen years, Me. As hard as that is to believe. And a lot’s happened in that thirteen years.”

“You’re not kidding me. If someone had told me, when I walked out of your place, that you were going to go from being my fake husband to my real one? I would have told them they were nuts. That was so not on my radar; getting into a serious relationship, never mind MARRYING someone.”

He nuzzles the tip of his nose against her ear, then presses a kiss to the lobe. “I knew it. You really did just want me for my body. Sex. That’s all I was to you. A piece of ass.”

“Maybe at first,” she admits, and then giggles when he playfully nips at the side of her neck. “But somewhere between the third and sixth orgasm, I realized that hey, maybe there IS something to be had out of all this.”

“So basically you came to that on the first day. Because if I do remember correctly, we didn’t just get down to business once. And you were on your fifth orgasm by the second round, so…”

“I realized very quickly that there was something different about you. Something that you didn’t let many people see. You weren’t like anyone I’d ever met on the job. Especially other mercenaries. You were special, Tyler Rake. I recognized that pretty early on.”

“Man, your standards really WERE low.”

“My standards happened to be very high, thank you very much. Which is why I went on my eighteen month sexual sabbatical after Mark. So what does that tell you? You had to do something awesome to get me to break. And you broke me right quick, let me tell you. I actually thought maybe you would break me a couple times, actually. Physically speaking.”

“You shocked me. That someone so tiny could take so much. From a guy so much bigger. You weren’t scared? Not once? Not even when I grabbed you by the neck?”

“Nope. I’ve never had a reason to be scared of you. Not even back then. I saw it in your eyes; you weren’t trying to hurt me. You were trying to protect yourself. You didn’t want me getting too close. And you didn’t want to feel anything. YOU were the one that was scared..”

“I was,” he admits. “It scared the hell out of me. That I WAS feeling things for you. Especially that quick. I never thought it was possible. To be that into someone so fast. Always thought was bullshit when I heard people talk about it. Then I met you. All five foot nothing and a buck twenty soaking wet. And boy did you turn my world upside down.”

She smiles and turns her face into his, tip of her nose pressed into the side of his. “In all the best ways though, right?”

“Nothing but the best, Me. Smartest thing I ever did? Agree to that job.”

“I told Ovi the same thing tonight. That it was the smartest decision I’ve ever made. I mean, it was crazy and it was weird and it was twisted, but it led me somewhere...and to SOMEONE...so beautiful and amazing. I don’t regret a single second, Tyler. Or any of the decisions I made. It was the best thing I ever did. YOU’RE the best thing I ever did.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are we talking just sexually or…?”

She laughs. “You totally blew it out of the water. Sexually speaking. And you continue to you ALL the time. But I mean in EVERY way. You’re everything I could have ever asked for. In a best friend, a partner, a husband, a baby daddy. You just came into my life and everything changed. I changed. It’s all been worth it. Even the bad times.”

“You know how you always say I have a habit of making you cry at the holidays? You're giving me a run for my money.”

“Even men deserve to hear all that mushy stuff. No matter how big and strong and how bad ass they are. And you, husband, re very big and strong and bad ass. And I love every damn inch of you.”

“Baby, I love you.” Tears sparkle in his eyes as he presses a kiss to the bridge of his nose. “And thank you; I DID need to hear all that.”

“I should tell you more often. And I would. If I wasn’t afraid your head would get too big to fit through the door.”

“Always following up the corny shit with some shitty, smart ass comment. That’s my girl,” He slides his hand under the bottom of his shirt and traces a fingertip around her navel; chuckling when she shivers against him and shoves his hand away.

For several minutes they stand in silence; his arm once more wrapped tightly around her waist and her head resting back against his chest. Both watching the child being rocked in her arms, his hand seemingly even larger and more powerful as it rests upon the baby’s coal black hair; thumb continuing to brush across her forehead.

“Look at the way she watches you.” Esme says. “Look how big her eyes are. How they’re sparkling. What is what with you and babies? They always love you. Our babies could NEVER get enough of you.”

“I don’t know. Voice, maybe?”

“Could be. When you’re not pissed off about something and you’re totally relaxed and comfortable, it’s so deep and so soothing. Soft, even. I used to think about that all the time in Dhaka; how your voice would seem so different when we were in bed together and having those late night chats. YOU’D seem different, actually. You were so calm and you completely let your guard down and you were so...I don’t know...different. You weren’t the guy you were when we were out on the street. Not that there was anything wrong with THAT guy. That guy was insanely sexy and man, could rail me like no other. Just the other guy? The calmer one? He really set the bar high.”

“And now?”

“You’re still him. You’re still Tyler. You still have all the different sides and I still love them. I love them more and more every day.”

“How much have you had to drink tonight? Because I know you can be sappy, but you’re even sappier than usual.”

“I barely had any. I don’t even have the slightest buzz going on. I’m just feeling sentimental, I guess. Seeing how good Ovi is with Riya and the girls and finally coming to terms with him being a daddy and someone’s soon to be husband. It’s just brought up a lot of things. A lot of GOOD things. When it comes to us.”

“Like?”

“Just how we were when we first started out. When we first got married and I was having Millie and we’re living in that little apartment. You were still recovering and still had quite the road ahead of you, but just got your shit together and stood up. You were so good, Tyler. At everything. No matter how much pain you were in or how much you were struggling mentally to get over things. You just shelved your shit so you could be there for me. And our baby.”

“All that mattered to me was you. And our daughter. That’s it.”

“And you showed it. Time and time again. Best damn lamaze partner and labour coach EVER.”

“Even if I almost DID faint?”

“Even then. You were awesome. You were such a good daddy to be. You were so in awe of the whole thing. The way you’d always touch my belly and you’d read surfing magazines to her and you’d go out at three in the morning to get me fast food or ice cream. You never even complained. Well, maybe when you were in the car you did.”

“Honestly? No. I was just so fucking happy to be getting the chance to have another kid that I was enjoying every second. I wasn’t going to take anything for granted. Even middle of the night Maccas runs.”

“I mean it, you know. When I say I couldn’t have asked for a better father for my children. You’ve been incredible. Right from the start. I lucked out, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t know, Me. I think I got you beat in that department. Luck.”

“How about we both agree that we’re lucky? That we BOTH bring some amazing things to the table.”

“I don’t know…”

“We BOTH lucked out. Big time. We definitely both upgraded. From our first marriages.”

“We can definitely agree on that. I certainly made the right decision. When I got up the balls to ask you to marry me. Even if it was in the bathroom.”

“It was perfect. For us.”

“You know what else is perfect? Seeing you with her. Our granddaughter. Makes me think of all the times with our babies. Watching you with them. Thinking how beautiful it was. Being just so in awe of you. Is it wrong I kind of miss it? You with a baby? Even you pregnant?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Not wrong at all. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it. I mean, I always had issues, but I actually liked being pregnant. I liked watching my body change; my hair thickening and darkening and my boobs and my butt getting bigger.”

He grins and pecks her ear. “That last part was DEFINITELY my favourite.”

“And feeling them move inside of me. I didn’t matter how many times I went through it; it was always so amazing and beautiful to feel them. And you’d always get that dorky smile. That one that’s reserved solely for expectant dads. The one that says ‘hey, look what I did!’. You know, I should have had a t-shirt made for you. With those words on it. And an arrow pointing at my belly.”

“I would have worn it, too. Like I wear that Super Sperm every now and then.”

“I can NOT believe you do that,” she laughs. “It was meant as a joke. Not for you to wear it and be proud of it!”

“But I am proud of it. Of my accomplishment. I knocked you up FIVE times. A total of SEVEN babies. That’s some fucking skill, Me.”

“I don’t know if your boys are skilled or just plain lucky, but I’ll let you have it. Your pride in your handiwork. Congratulations, honey. You came inside of me. Quite the feat.”

“Listen smart ass,” he playfully pinches the sensitive area below her right rib cage. “Can’t you just let me have this? Can’t I have my moment? Those kids are the best thing I’ve ever done. Other than their mum, of course. She’s my favourite thing I’ve ever done.”

“You never miss the opportunity to be dirty do you. I do miss it, you know. Being pregnant, having a baby in the house. It’s kind of bittersweet; knowing it won’t happen again. I spent the better part of seven years pregnant. Starting with Millie and ending with the twins. We had seven kids in a VERY short period of time. It’s kinda hard to get used to; not having an infant or two around.”

“I mean, it COULD happen. We could both get things reversed and just hope for the best.”

“I don’t know if I can do it. If my body can even handle that. I think I’m babied out. As sad as that makes me to admit.”

“We could get a surrogate.”

“That’s a no from me. I know it’s an amazing thing and I admire the women who do it. I really do. But I do NOT like the idea of you having a baby with another woman.”

“You realize I don’t actually get to fuck them, right? I don’t get to actually enjoy the baby making process?”

“Of course I realize that. I just don’t like that idea. I’m not comfortable with it. Your sperm in someone else. Even if it WAS put there by a turkey baster.”

“A turkey baster?” He chuckles. “Is that seriously how it’s done? I do my thing into a cup and…?”

“I don’t know. Something like that I guess. I just can’t deal with that. The thought of your stuff inside of some other woman. Sounds stupid, right? Tell me it’s stupid. That I’m being totally irrational.”

“Actually, I get it. I understand where you’re coming from. If I couldn’t pitch in, I wouldn’t want some guy’s sperm being put into you.”

“Oh it wouldn’t just be put in me. I’d totally sleep with him.”

Tyler scowls. “Excuse me?”

“I’m kidding! You know I’m kidding! Baby, there is no other guy in this world I want to sleep with. You’re the only one I want to do those things with. Why turn around and settle for less when I already have the best? When I’m already married to someone that’s walking sex. A God among men. Only you, Tae. You’re the only one I want to sleep with.”

“Yeah?” He presses a series of kisses along the outer edge of her hair, followed by the length of her jaw. “You want to sleep with me tonight?”

She grins, then sighs when his teeth nip at the side of her throat. “I want to do A LOT of things with you tonight.”

“Oh really? Well in that case…” he places a kiss on her temple, lips lingering as his hand once more slips up the front of her shirt; fingertips grazing along the smooth skin just above the waistband of her pyjama pants. “...maybe we should close the house up for the night and go upstairs.”

“I think that’s a very good idea. Tell you what, I’ll lock everything up and set the alarms. You take your granddaughter and put her to bed. I already set the playpen up for her. In the den.”

“You already have her. Why don’t you do it?”

“Because you have a knack of getting babies off to sleep. You’re a natural. And besides, you doing the whole big, strong man with a baby thing? It totally turns me on.”

“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” He gently and carefully removes the baby from her arms. Holding Tabby tightly to his chest; a forearm under her bum and a hand on the back of her head.

“Very nice,” Esme enthuses. “Is it wrong that I’m wet for you already?”

He leans in to kiss her. “You’re dirty.”

She lays a hand on the side of his face, and kisses him eagerly in return, pausing when she giggles into his mouth. “You have that effect on me.”

******

“Adoption.”

His voice rumbles deep in his chest; reverberating against her back and tearing her away from the edge of sleep. Their love making had been a welcome change from the nights past. A bruising and punishing pace exchanged for something much slower and attentive; slow, deep thrusts that kept her whimpering in delight and her nails clawing at his back shoulders. Long and languid kisses; little pecks interspersed with the movement of closed mouth upon closed and followed by greedy yet explorative tongues. The degrading names and the filthy words replaced by whispered praises and declarations of love; her cheek cradled in the palm of his hand as he gazed down at her with so much admiration and adoration that it both brought tears to her eyes and took her breath away.

She’d been enjoying the sensation of his naked and sweat slicked body pressed against hers. Her back against the muscled and solid expanse of his chest and one of his thighs wedged between both of hers; a forearm stretched across her pillow and her head resting in the crook of his elbow. A large, strong hand hovering near her stomach; calloused fingertips tracing slow and intricate patterns on the skin. Her body completely sated and so relaxed and secure in his arms that sleep had come on quickly; encouraged by the soft breath that tickled the back of her neck and fluttered her hair.

“It’s what we should do,” he continues, as his index finger draws continuous circles around her navel. “Adopt.”

“Are you seriously back to thinking about that?

“Back to thinking about it? I haven’t STOPPED thinking about it.”

Esme frowns. “You were thinking about adoption while we were…?”

“Not WHILE we were. I did stop for THAT. I do have to concentrate more now, you know. I’m getting old.”

“Oh please…” Esme rolls her eyes. “...how many times have we had sex? In almost thirteen years? You could be fully comatose and still get things done. Muscle memory and all that. And you are NOT getting old. What’s the saying ? You’re only as old as you feel?”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? ‘Cause I feel like I’m ninety.”

“You have just as much stamina and enthusiasm now as you did when we met. If not MORE. You’re hardly getting old. What’s gotten into you lately? You’ve been talking about the weirdest things. Getting married again, having another baby, adopting a kid. Are you okay, honey? You don’t seem okay.”

“I’m pretty far from okay. I thought we established that a few days ago.”

“OTHER than that. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing is going on with me. It’s just things I’ve been thinking about. Things I want to do. With you.”

She rolls over onto her other side, settling her head on his bicep as she faces him. “Are you going through a midlife crisis? Is that what’s going on here? Last month, you went and got a motorcycle after I finally caved. You went back out into the field. You’ve started talking about wanting to renew our vows and how we could get things reversed and have another baby. Now you’re onto adoption. Is that what all this is? A midlife crisis?”

“No. It’s not. No one lives to be ninety four.”

“A LOT of people live to be ninety four, thank you very much.”

“Well I hate to break it to you, but I won’t be one of them. And nothing’s gotten into me and I’m not going through any kind of crisis. It’s just things that I have on my mind. That I’d like to do with you.”

“Well the baby thing is off the list. I can’t go through the whole process of having things reversed and MAYBE getting pregnant. There’s no guarantee I would and I honestly don’t think my body can handle it again. I had problems with EVERY pregnancy. And each time things got worse and worse. Do we really want to take that chance? That I do get pregnant and something horrible goes wrong?”

“Nothing went wrong with Takota and Brookie. It was the best pregnancy you had. I mean, you had the cramping and the bleeding in the first three months, but after that…”

“They each weighed eight pounds. Or close to it. They were BIG babies for twins. Do you want to take that chance again? That we’d have another set?”

“I highly doubt we would. That seems pretty unlikely.”

“We thought having a second set would be unlikely. But it happened. I had all kinds of problems with Addie; I almost lost her twice and she was early and so tiny when she finally came. I gave birth to Declan on our living room floor. And don’t get me started about TJ and Tanner. Because that was a nightmare. I can’t do it again, Tyler. I just can’t. I can’t put myself through that; procedures to reverse everything and then getting pregnant and something going wrong. I just can’t.”

“Okay, so we don’t go that way. We adopt. It’s not like we can’t afford it.”

“What is going on with you? I used to think it was a breeding kink. And I was more than happy to go along with it and I figured you’d just grow out of it. Now I’m starting to think it’s something more than that. What is your issue? About needing so many offspring? How come every time we agree to stop, you change your mind a few months or a couple years later?”

“I don’t HAVE an issue. Maybe I just like having kids with you. Having a big family. What’s wrong with that? It’s what we wanted, isn’t it? What we agreed on.”

“We agreed on three. Then you changed your mind and talked me into it and we settled on four. I lost one and then we split up and one of our little hookups ending up with me getting pregnant with Declan. He was supposed to be the last. That was it.. And low and behold…”

“I changed my mind and we had Addie.”

“And then Kota and Brookie. Even though we BOTH swore up and down that Peanut would be very last. You even went and got a vasectomy. Didn’t exactly work, did it.”

“That was totally my fault and I owned it.”

“We have our big family. Way bigger than either of us really ever planned on. And now you’re talking about more? This is when we’re supposed to start really enjoying each other. All of our kids are in school; we have the entire house to ourselves. We should be capitalizing on that. Going places together; out to lunch or taking those road trips we like we used to or even spending time on the beach. You can try to teach me to surf. AGAIN. Now that you’re home more…”

“That’s just it, Me. I’M home more. Not you. Me. I spend ninety nine percent of my time working from home. That’s what YOU wanted. You didn’t want me going out anymore; you wanted me home and running the business and not going out there and getting my hands dirty. I gave you what you wanted, didn’t I?”

She frowns. “I thought we both wanted that. We AGREED on it. You even said yourself that it was the best decision you could have made. Considering how long you had to rehab for and the little setbacks and the complications and having to get your knee redone. You admitted that you would never have been able to go back out. At least not at the frequency and the pace you were used to.”

“I did. I DID say that. And I meant it. I CAN’T keep going the way I was. I’m nowhere near the same guy I was thirteen years ago. Or even five years ago; before Nathan got his fucking hands on me. I CAN’T do it anymore; not full time anyway. My body can’t take it. Neither can my brain. And that’s the one I worry about the most.”

It’s a bitter pill to swallow: admitting aloud that you’re nowhere near the person you’d been not even a decade ago. That you just don’t have it in you anymore; physical and mental exhaustion finally getting the better of you. And he is better behind the scenes; he enjoys running things and being the one to delegate and the guy that others look to for answers and help. But it’s still a kick in the gut. Admitting that you just can’t do it anymore.

“But I thought being home almost all the time meant getting to spend more time with you,” he continues. “That’s what I thought would happen. I thought we WOULD get a chance to enjoy being around one another more. Because you know what? I genuinely like being around you. I WANT to be around you. I want us to go places together and do things with one another. And that’s not what happened, did it. When I agreed to this whole bookstore thing. When I bought you that place.”

It had been a tenth anniversary gift; the purchase of the building and the help of both a contractor and a designer to make her vision -her dream- come to life. And it’s flourished; the locals falling in love with Esme and the business and making it far more successful than she could have ever imagined it would be. And while he’s proud of her and the success that she’s achieved and would never stop supporting her, it has come with its downside. There’s been moments of animosity towards the business itself; never expecting that it would eat up so much time or her time and take her away from him. He'd certainly never expected to miss her THAT much; hating the loneliness of a completely empty house and the mere absence of her voice. And it isn’t so much the intimacy that he longs for. The sex and the moments of more innocent displays of affection; walking along the beach with their arms around each other, the kisses while standing in the surf, holding hands while walking through the town. It’s the friendship. The laughs they have together when he’s attempting -yet again- to teach her surf and the conversations over lunch on the back deck and the road trips they take; either making a picnic the night before or simply grabbing food at a drive thru and then just driving with no set destination. Listening to her singing along to the radio and laughing when she dances in her seat or even letting her talk him into a silly and childish game of ‘eye spy’. And that little shriek and giggle she gives when she sticks her arm out the window; the accompanying breeze both startling her and tickling her skin. He enjoys those moments with her. Not just his wife and the mother of his children, but his best friend. His confidant. His most loyal and steadfast supporter. The keeper of his deepest and darkest secrets.

“I just thought we’d have more time,” he adds. “Together. That me stepping back and being a boss meant that we would get a chance to be with another more. Especially when all the kids ended up in school.”

“And I agreed that I’d cut back. I’ve already adjusted the schedule and everyone has stepped up and are more than willing to take on extra hours. Xavier was more than willing to take on a management role; I gave him more hours, benefits, a business account he can use for meals and gas costs. I’ve already taken care of all of that. Just like you asked me. Like you wanted.”

“I wanted you to want it too. I wanted you to want that time with me.”

“And I DO want that time with you. Have you ever thought maybe I felt being home more somehow hindered you? That maybe I’d be a distraction? That you’d put off work in favor of catering to me? I didn’t want to get in your way, Tyler. I know how important the business is. How well it’s doing. And I didn’t want to feel like I was taking you away from it and making you neglect things.”

“Why didn’t you just TELL me that? Why didn’t you let me know you were feeling that way?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t want to come across as whiny and needy. You’re running a company. A very successful one. I didn’t want to hinder that.”

“Baby, you could never hinder it. Or be a distraction. Well, unless you’re coming into the gym in the middle of a work out and you’re only wearing a bathing suit or a bathrobe with nothing underneath. Then you are DEFINITELY a distraction.”

“I’ve been good lately. I’ve held off. If I’m horny and don’t want to handle things myself, I don’t come in until you’ve got at least an hour and a half in. Isn’t the last thirty minutes to an hour cardio? Well I show up, offer you sex, and then you don’t have to go on the treadmill or the rowing machine or use the assault bike.”

Grinning, he uses two fingertips to clear her hair away from her face , tucking wayward strands behind. “So THAT’S your game plan. You’re an evil genius, you know that?”

“I know how much you hate standard cardio. How the rowing machine makes your back act up and that running on the treadmill bothers your knees. So I figure why not offer myself up? Spare your body any future agony. And if we go really hardcore at it, it’s DEFINITELY better than any other form of cardio out there.”

“You think so do you? Did you read that somewhere? Google it?”

“I DID google. It was actually in a highly respected and esteemed publication, I’ll have you know.”

“Cosmopolitan is NOT a highly respected and esteemed publication. No matter what you think.”

“I don’t know, their sex advice is pretty damn good. I’ve used a few of those things. You never complained, that’s for sure.”

“Which tricks? What did you try on me?”

“I refuse to give away all my secrets. But you enjoyed them. Very much. And sometimes you even ask me to do them again. How long have you been feeling this way? Like I’m neglecting you? Neglecting US?”

“I didn’t say you were neglecting anything.” Combing his fingers through her hair, he cups the back of her head in his palm and places a kiss on her brow. “I just…”

“It’s neglect. Let’s not sugar coat it. I put my business before you. Before us. And I never meant to, Tyler. Other than our children, there is nothing or no one more important than our marriage and you. I just didn’t want to get in your way. Honest. That’s all it was about. I wasn’t staying away because I wanted to. Or because I didn’t want to spend time with you. It was never about that. It was never about you. And I’m sorry. That I made you feel you were being put second. I never meant to make you feel that way.”

“And I never meant to make you feel you were going to get in the way. I didn’t even realize I WAS making you that way. I guess we haven’t made as much progress as we thought. In the past five years.”

“Are you kidding? We are totally different people. Separately AND together. We’re stronger. Our marriage is better. We hardly fight anymore. And when we do it doesn’t get nearly as heated and ugly as it used to. We’re able to calm ourselves down and not let things get out of hand. We HAVE come a long way. And I see that every day. You must see it too.”

“I do. But we still got work to do. We’re still lacking a bit on the whole communication thing.”

“It is one of our weak spots,” she admits. “But we’ll just keep working at it. Reminding ourselves that we can and WILL do better. I don’t want us going back to how we were.”

“Trust me, that is the LAST thing I want. I like where we are now. And I like that we still keep working on things. I’m proud of us, Me. And you. I’m proud of you.”

Smiling, she lays a hand on the side of his face and kisses him; long and soft and sweet. “And you call me sappy. Is that why you got onto this wanting another baby stuff? Because me being pregnant meant I’d be home more?”

“I guess so. I don’t know. Maybe it’s part of it. But there’s more to it. The way I’m feeling. I don’t even know how to describe it. I just know what it feels like.”

“You want to try telling me? What’s going on with you? You know you don’t have to keep this shit from me, right? That you can tell me ANYTHING?”

“I do. I DO know that. But that’s the thing, Me. I want to tell you. I just don’t know how to. Because I can’t even make sense of it. So how are you supposed to?”

“Try me. Just talk. Don’t even think about it. Just say whatever pops into your head.”

“That could be dangerous you know. Aren’t we supposed to be working on me trying to get some of my filter back?”

“Baby, you wouldn’t be you if you had a filter. It’s been almost thirteen years. I’m used to you. Just say whatever you need to say. Nothing could possibly shock me. Or offend me.”

Sighing heavily, he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers; fingers buried in her hair and gently kneading at her scalp. She gives him time; patiently waiting for an often confused and muddled mind to not only put the bits and pieces together, but for him to find a way to adequately express them. It’s part of the brain injury; the minutes he’d spent deprived of oxygen when he’d coded twice in the operating room. It brings with it a wide variety of issues that can go radio silent for weeks, months, and sometimes even YEARS at a time; short term memory issues, problems controlling and expressing emotions, lack of impulse control, bouts of confusion and an increased temper and sexual drive. And she knows how frustrating it is for him; those times he struggles to concentrate on even the simplest of tasks and conversations or he forgets what he did half an hour before or can’t recall something she told him ten minutes before leaving the house. And when he takes in another sigh -longer and shakier than the one previous- she pushes her hand into his hair and presses a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

“It’s okay.” Her voice is calm, quiet, and patient. Nails lightly and briefly scratching at the back of his head before her hand moves to the nape of his neck. “Take your time. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere, babe.”

She can tell by the way his shoulders tense and his nostrils flare that he’s struggling; desperately trying to piece everything together and express exactly what he’s feeling. And her heart aches for him; this strong, powerful, BEAUTIFUL man continuing to be tortured by a troubled past. He’ll never be able to fully shed the memories of Dhaka; the brain injury and its side effects and the numerous scars permanent reminders of the hell he’d been through.

“You okay?” Her hand once more moves back into his hair, gently tugging at the longer strands. “You doing alright?”

Nodding, he clears his throat noisily and opens his eyes. “I love you. And my kids. So fucking much.”

“I know you do, Tyler. I never doubt that.”

“I need you to hear it. I need you to KNOW it. Because I don’t want you taking what I say next out of context. Because it’s probably not going to come out the way I want it to. The way I MEAN it to.”

“I know you love us. I’ve never once doubted that. Just say what you have to say. No getting upset, no judging you, no taking offence. I promise. Just tell me.”

“When I met you, I had nothing. Inside of me. I was empty. And you came along and you filled most of that up. Very quickly. And then we had Millie and we started having more kids and adding to our family and each time we did, more and more places inside of me started filling up. Am I making any sense? I hope this is making sense.”

“It is,” Esme assures him. “Total sense.”

“And it should be completely filled, yeah? That emptiness? You’d think between you and seven kids and the fact we have this incredible life and all this money and two beautiful homes that there’d be nothing left to fill. But there is. And I don’t know why. I don’t know why I can’t fill that last piece. There’s this hole. In my heart. And I can’t find the piece that fits it. No matter how hard I try.”

“So you thought another baby would fill it? Be the answer?”

“A baby of our own, adopting, going back into the field. I guess I thought one of those three would be the answer. That one of them would do the trick.”

“You realize NONE are the answer, right? That none of those things are what you’re really looking for?”

“That’s just it, Me. I don’t know what I’m looking for. But whatever it is, it’s out there but I can’t find it. And I’m not saying this to hurt you or make you feel like you failed in some way. Because you haven’t. It’s not about you. Or our kids. Because I love you; with everything I am and everything I have. None of this is about you.”

“I know. I’m not upset or hurt. I know you love me. You show me and tell me all the time. When did this start? Feeling like this?”

“Couple months ago, I guess. Four at the most.”

“Right around the anniversary of Austin’s death?”

“Yeah...maybe...I don’t know…” The mere mention of his son causes tears to fill his eyes and a lump of emotion to settle in his throat. “...I guess that could have done it.”

“Baby, it’s okay to grieve. It’s okay to still be heartbroken.”

“It’s been seventeen years.”

“There’s no time limit on these things. I still miss my dad. A hell of a lot. Every day something happens where I’m reminded of him. One of the kids will do something and I’ll think about how I wish I could just call him and tell him about it. Or send him pictures of them. Or videos of Millie doing her MMA stuff or TJ scoring goals in lacrosse or Addie at dance recitals in her cute little outfits. It hurts like hell when I realize I can’t share those things with him. When I think about everything he’s missed and how much he’d love those kids. And you. I don’t think it ever really goes away. Grief. I think it’s always there in some way.”

“I just didn’t think it would be this hard. Hurt this much. Especially after so long.”

“You lost a child. A human being that you helped make,” she reasons. “I can’t even bear it when I just think about losing one of mine. So I can’t even begin to imagine what it feels like when it actually HAPPENS. To have to sit there and see your child suffer.”

“But I didn’t sit there,” he reminds her, voice cracking with emotion. “ I took off. I left him there. That was my son. And I LEFT him.”

“You were scared. You were young and you were…”

“I was thirty one years old. I wasn’t a kid. I was a grown ass man. I wasn’t some fucking kid right out of high school. And I wasn’t scared. I was weak. I was a fucking coward and I left him. When he needed me the most. He was sick and he was terrified and I left him.”

“Tyler…” She cradles his face in her hands, thumbs clearing away the tears that slip down his cheeks. “...it’s okay. It’s okay to talk about it and it’s okay to feel the things you’re feeling. But beating yourself up like this? Hating yourself? This isn’t good, babe. You can’t hate yourself forever.”

“You think so? You just watch me.”

“Listen to me,” she pleads, and digs her nails into his face. “You can’t do this. You can’t spend the rest of your life hating yourself. You made a mistake. And yeah, it was a really bad one and I am so fucking sorry that happened to you. That Austin got sick and suffered like he did and that you felt you had no choice but to leave.”

“How can you not hate me? How can you look at me like you do? Why don’t you see me like a monster? Like the huge piece of shit that I am?”

“Because you’re not a piece of shit and you’re not a monster. You’re just a human being that made a bad mistake. I could NEVER hate you. I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And if there was some way I could go back in time and change things and make them better for you, I would.”

“No. Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. Don’t ever even wish that. Because going back and changing everything would just change everything now. It would mean I’d lose you. And my kids. I loved my son. But I would never bring him back if it meant losing everything I have now.”

She kisses him softly; tasting the salt of his tears as her fingernails lightly drag along the lines of his jaw. “You need closure, Tae. It’s something you’ve never gotten. If you knew where he was…”

“She’d never tell me. Not even seventeen years later. She wouldn’t even tell my lawyer. When we got divorced.”

“Have you tried tracking her down? It’s been a long time. Last time we saw her was thirteen years ago. She may have mellowed. She might be willing to tell you now.”

“I’m not exactly her favourite person, Me. And do you blame her? I didn’t just leave him, I left her too. When she needed me. I know she was a shit wife; constantly fucking other guys when I was away. Sometimes when I was even still in town. But she didn’t deserve that.”

“Do you want me to track her down? I could call or go and visit and ask if she’d…”

“No. That is the last thing I want. I don’t want my past mixing with my present. My future. I appreciate it, Me. And I love you for wanting to do that. For being WILLING to do it. But no good will come of that. You and her meeting up.”

“Is there anything I CAN do? Because I hate that you’re going through this. And I especially hate that you hate yourself. That I can’t take that away. Because you don’t deserve that. That hate. From yourself or anyone else. Tell me what I can do. Please.”

Sniffling noisily, he swipes the back of his hand across his nose. “You can’t fix me, Esme. No matter how much you want to. Or how hard you try.”

“I don’t want to fix you, Tae. I just want to love you.”

The tears immediately return, and when he chokes back a sob she gathers him in her embrace and rolls onto her back. An arm across the middle of his spine and hand moving to the back of his head; fingers tunnelling in his hair as he rests his brow against her chest.

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve YOU.”

“You deserve EVERYTHING. And you’ll never convince me otherwise. Let me love you. That’s all I want. To love you. Can you let me do that?”

Nodding, he slides further down the bed; both arms circling her torso as he buries his face in her stomach.

“It’s going to be okay, Tyler.” Both hands push through his hair; tightly gripping the dirty blond tresses, nails digging into his scalp. “I’ve got you.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

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gohyuck · 5 years ago

Note

this is for the nct prompt thingy. i hope my choices aren’t boring 🥺✊ member: jaemin au: 10 trope:4 scenario prompt: 5

based on this post

i’m also adding another request i got to this one:

jaemin + tangible pls

notes: prom night!! and pretty much just fluff with a small bit of angst at the beginning

10: neighbors

4: coming of age

5: “i’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.”

enjoy! part 2 here

being the president of the student council has its perks - you get to have a say in a decent amount of the major decisions that go on in your high school, and you get to do things like visit your prom venue (the top floor of a hotel this year, overlooking the entire city) weeks beforehand just to ensure that your classmates will love it. you got to design the class ring, and help lead student sections at football games. you wouldn’t give up your role for anything, and you know it.

still, right now, as you feel your high school world almost crashing down around you, you’re painfully away of the negative aspects of your job. prom ended two hours ago, and you’ve only just finished clean-up. the rest of your officers had left thirty minutes ago - you’d ushered them out yourself, wanting all of them to enjoy their prom nights in the way you wouldn’t be able to do so yourself. you’d stayed behind to help the caterers clean up and even managed to stay after all the chaperones had left, almost hell-bent on being alone in the end.

it’s only as you say your final goodbyes to the hotel staff and make your way into the parking garage that you let your tears start to fall.

you no longer have a ride home, and you really don’t want to bother your parents at 2 in the morning. getting a rideshare would involve paying with money you really don’t have. before you can talk yourself out of it, you dig your phone out of your clutch, searching for the contact of the one person who might be able to get you home at this hour. you press call. you rush to wipe your tears and stabilize your breathing, praying that you’ll sound normal on the phone.

jaemin picks up on the third ring, and you realize immediately that he’s at a party, or a club, or something. regret climbs up your throat - you don’t want to tear him away from the fun he must be having. you almost hit the glaring red end call button, but his voice interrupts your actions.

“(name)? what’s up? are you okay?”

you’re pleasantly surprised by the worry behind his words, but you’re quick to reassure him that yes, you’re fine, you’re just a little bit stranded at the hotel and if he could please give you a ride home, you’d be indebted to him forever. he agrees without qualms, and assures you that no, the party behind him isn’t very interesting, and that you aren’t doing him a disservice by calling him away from it. it takes him almost no time at all to get to where you are, and you realize he must’ve been at one of the clubs nearby.

you wonder what it’s like.

he opens the passenger door for you and ushers you in like a regular gentleman, and it isn’t until you’re settled down and buckled in in his beaten down honda civic that he asks the question you’re dreading.

“didn’t you go with bradley?” his eyes don’t waver from the stretch of highway ahead of him, and it’s obvious he’s just trying to make small talk. still, you can’t help the sigh that escapes you. jaemin finally glances over, concern etching his features.

“he left with alina halfway through,” you say, a sad smile turning up one corner of your mouth. “and left me rideless.”

“that bastard...” jaemin starts before trailing off, muttering angrily to himself, and you’re reminded of how protective he can be over his friends. though you don’t run in the same circles - his friend group is comprised mostly of the dance team, and yours is mostly your friends from student council and yearbook - you’ve managed to maintain some form of a relationship with jaemin throughout high school, in part due to the fact that his house is right next door to yours.

“it’s fine, jaem - him and i weren’t a couple anyways.” you tell him, and he only gives a tight-jawed, curt nod in your response. you realize you’ve reached your neighborhood only when he turns onto your street. you’re prepared to give him a genuine thanks and a cursory goodnight until he drives directly into the driveway rather than stopping in front of your house.

“did you forget that i’m here?” you tease him, though you’re thoroughly confused. he laughs before shaking his head, pressing the button above his head to open his garage.

“how could i forget you?” he smiles directly at you after he parks, and under the fluorescent lights of his garage you realize just how handsome he looks in the dark blue suit he has on. you knock your shoulder against his as a way of responding to him, and the both of you share a grin.

“but seriously, though, what are we doing here?”

“well i live here, so there’s that.” jaemin points out. before you can snark back at him, he waves a hand towards the passenger’s side door. “get out of my car and into my house and you’ll find out.”

♕ ♕ ♕

a few minutes later, you’re sitting on top of jaemin’s dining table with your feet - your heels long gone - resting on the chair in front of you. he’s scooping ice cream into a two bowls at the island as you watch. both of his parents, as professors at a nearby college, are off at a three day, two night conference, so he has the house to himself.

jaemin hands you your bowl, though not before sticking a dessert spoon in it. you watch with equal parts horror and fascination as he pours soy sauce onto his own vanilla ice cream, and he sends you a cheeky wink when he catches your disgusted stare.

“you’re a goblin, na.” you state, shaking your head. he can’t help but laugh at you as he pulls the chair out from under your feet and sits down on it.

“what? it helps me with my lactose intolerance.” as if to emphasize his point, he digs in, making sure you’re watching as he places a spoonful of his concoction on his tongue.

“mmm, it’s so incredibly delicious. why don’t you give it a try?” he grins up at you, and you fake gag at him in response. the two of you continue to banter back and forth as you eat, and, soon enough, bradley is out of your mind for good. it isn’t until after jaemin washes your dishes - “i can help, jaem-” “and get that gorgeous dress wet? not fucking likely.” - that you realize you should probably get home. he walks you to the front door and you give him a hug and say your thank you and goodnight.

you’re genuinely surprised when he follows you outside.

“dude, i live right there.” you point at your front door, which is hardly 20 feet away from you. jaemin gives you a sheepish smile before shrugging his shoulders.

“it’s 3 in the morning. i’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.”

you shake your head in disbelief, though neither of you can ignore the smile that spreads across your face. you look up at him, and the way he looks back at you is so heartbreakingly tender that you find your own smile fading fast as your face relaxes itself. any response you might’ve had dies in your throat.

jaemin hadn’t gone to prom with a date, the voice in the back of your head reminds you. he’d left his best friends to come pick you up, and he’s been the first person to make you smile all night. he looks impossibly good in the moonlight, dark hair tussled artistically and his single, dangly earring framing his jawline. in the moment, he seems realer to you than he ever has before. he’s concrete. tangible.

before you can stop yourself, you lay a hand against one of his lapels and search your eyes with his.

“can i kiss you?” your voice is more sure than you can give yourself credit for. jaemin, to his own right, lets his hands fall onto your waist naturally before nodding. you lean up as he leans down, and as the two of you meet in the middle, you can’t help but feel like something’s fallen into place.

as you pull away from him, though, only one thing is on your mind...

... and your tongue.

“you’re so lucky you’re a good kisser,” you say, not stepping away from him. before he can question you, you keep speaking. “because you taste like soy sauce, you big idiot!”

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quillyfied · 5 years ago

Text

Mega Good Omens Fic Rec Post 4

I LIIIIIIIVE

99 titles on this list again and once again we have an extra category, and I am pumped that I finally got this one done! Got a lot of holiday overflow but suck it up bc here it comes. As a refresher, the categories are: Jaunts through History/Canon, South Downs, Post-Apocalypse, Bus Ride/Night Before/Heaven and Hell, AU/UA, Soft, Before (exclusive to this list and List 2, meaning takes place almost exclusively Before Canon, as in The Fall/Creation/etc), Touch-Starved/Body Worship/Wings, Bonus, and H/C /Whump/BAMF. Warnings for gore and explicit material present where applicable. I don’t read smut fics but sometimes more adult material sneaks in there.

Mega GOmens Fic Rec Post MASTER

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF A LINK IS BROKEN OR IF I MISATTRIBUTED AN AUTHOR.

JAUNTS THROUGH HISTORY/CANON

1. You are a Call to Motion – @freyjawriter24 (G, the one where Aziraphale would like to dance but doesn’t. Very sweet and soft and kinda sad, follows Aziraphale through history wanting to dance (specifically with Crowley) until he finally gets to. The pining is so good, y’all.)

2. I love you because I know no other way than this – kriswithakay (T, the one where Aziraphale and Crowley use the excuse of being spectacularly drunk to get in little touches and kisses throughout history. This one is so sad and so full of yearning, the whole time you just wish they would face each other sober. It’s so quiet and beautiful.)

3. A Simple Thing – Sir_Bedevere (T, the one where Aziraphale gives out forehead kisses and Crowley is jelly about it. Continuing with the trend of being achingly sad and tender, this fic packs a wallop in that department. Forehead kisses aren’t always given at the happiest of times, after all. Also Crowley continues his stint as a pine tree and it’s painful.)

4. The Problem with Saints – Lurlur, D20Owlbear, robynthemagpie_writes, Wyvernquill (T and G, the series where it’s Catholic but funny. This series is weird and it’s hilarious and I hope there will be more, because this series goes through some fairly niche Catholic saint stories and the retelling of them featuring the Ineffable Husbands is hysterical. I don’t even want to tell y’all too much about it, just go read them and laugh with me, because they’re beautiful.)

5. When The Things You’ve Planned Need a Helping Hand – Proskenion (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale run into each other in the 1920s. Flapper!Crowley being a lounge singer is the centerpiece of this one, which is delightful enough, but throw in some canon-typical friction over the Arrangement and a chance for Aziraphale to come to the rescue, it’s a lovely little romp that has just the right edge of emotional tenderness to take the sting out of said earlier friction. Or add to it. Just depends on your point of view, really.)

6. The Serpent and the Lady – @summerofspock (T, the one where Aziraphale is Lady Fair and Crowley is competing in a tournament for his favor. Has female-presenting Aziraphale still using male pronouns bc that’s just what he’s comfortable with, and definitely, definitely has that Disney animated Robin Hood flavor. This fic scratches so many of my itches—Aziraphale in a dress, Crowley being a dashing BAMF, chivalric courtship, swordplay, armor, hand-sewn tokens of favor. A delicious little diversion, very worth it a++++.)

7. Sunlight and Water – @themoonmothwrites (M, the one where Aziraphale is a flirty drunk and Crowley has to be the sensible one. M for some racy elements but not explicit. This one is fun but then takes a direct left into Feels Town, which, when coupled with @cassieoh’s art, just makes the whole experience dreadfully unfair. A gorgeous little story, and the ending is just *chef’s kiss*.)

8. Sloth – libbyfay (T, the one where Aziraphale checks in on Crowley after the fourteenth century. This one is a delight, and includes Aziraphale recommending The Canterbury Tales, as well as a back-and-forth about depression versus Sloth and a lot of talking around feelings. Must absolutely be read in conjunction with the next rec in the list, which is something of a continuation. )

9. I have an aungel which that loveth me – HolRose (NR, the one where Crowley follows up on The Canterbury Tales recommendation from Aziraphale and it gets a bit deep. A continuation of the previous rec, and oof, y’all. This one gets hella sad, which hits pretty hard after Crowley laughing his head off about the funny bits in Canterbury Tales. There’s also Feelings, which are desperate and tender and guys they don’t even kiss but it’s still breathtaking. They love each other so much.)

10. (heaven is) a place on earth – rattatatosk (G, the one where Aziraphale nearly loses his bookshop. This takes place during the deleted scene from the 1800 opening of the bookshop, and has oodles of Aziraphale building himself a home and being devastated about nearly losing it. Not a nesting fic in the traditional sense (meaning it isn’t about building a home for himself and Crowley, it’s definitely just for him), but for fans of happy Aziraphale being fluffy and content in his bookshop, here you go.)

11. No other news to report – @argentconflagration (T, the one where Aziraphale is torn up about an assignment. Y’all want Crowley interfering in angelic plans? Y’all want tenderness and holding? Y’all want Aziraphale letting himself be bested? Then stay a while, because this one is a heart-wrecker. Featuring a very sick and very devout child, and female-presenting Crowley.)

12. These Things Were Here – @MajorEnglishEsquire (T, the one where Crowley resorts to snake form to deal with his feelings. This one is long and it’s emotional; Crowley reverts down to being a snake whenever he gets especially bad assignments from Hell, and it’s about him and Aziraphale finding balance and harmony between themselves when Crowley is like this. Very sweet and very tender and very sad.)

13. Crossing Paths – @amuseoffyre (G, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale meet every few years. This is your typical “through the ages” fic but it’s Fyre writing it, and that means it has so much humor and heart and history in it it’s practically like reading deleted scenes of the show. The boys are so in-character and their love is subtle and slow-boiling but there. Highly recommended, absolutely.)

14. apples (per the author’s intention) – @lwtis (T, the one where apples is a recurring theme in their friendship. This one is hilarious and it’s heartfelt and I quite enjoyed it; the bits where Aziraphale is absolutely convinced this is a temptation of some kind are particularly juicy (not unlike Crowley’s backside in a certain pair of trousers). Crowley absolutely knows how to beat a joke to death and he does it with style.)

SOUTH DOWNS

15. up in our bedroom, after the war – @rufeepeach (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale need to get away to process things. In this one, they more vacation to the South Downs rather than move there, but them working through the awkwardness of Armageddon’s fighting and gently taking their relationship to its natural conclusion is beautiful and good. It isn’t urgent or desperate, just quiet and understated and organic. A lovely piece.)

16. Somewhere Alive and Green – @thetunewillcome (T, the one where they make a necessary move. This one is quiet and reflective, as a good South Downs fic should be, and though it’s short I think it’s wonderfully healing. Very good.)

POST-APOCALYPSE

17. England’s pleasant pastures seen – @squidsticks (T, the one where Aziraphale has an appointment with a book collector and Crowley offers to drive. Y’all it’s so sweet and, dare I say, uplifting, how much they love each other. Someone drops the “husband” word at some point and someone else has a joyful fit over it and I bet you can tell who does what. There’s also a lot of teasing and the kind of easy banter that comes with knowing someone for so long. V. good.)

18. you have built nests from all my bark – @mutalune (T, the one where Crowley is nesting as an aggressive courting maneuver. This fic is so much fun. Highlights include Michael thinking Aziraphale must have a special connection with the Almighty and trying to emulate his lifestyle in order to have one herself, Crowley getting irrationally jealous over it all and constructing the finest nest known to reality (including cupholders, which I now also want in all my pillow piles), Dagon looking for a very similar thing from Crowley that Michael wants from Aziraphale, and lots of delicious humor and unexpected character interactions. I highly recommend this one if you’re having a bad day.)

19. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance – @divisionten (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale find out how to get around Heaven and Hell and it’s through summons. More of an anthology than a solid story, and it’s such a fascinating universe, liberally layered with overcoming trust issues and adjusting to being in a loving relationship, and it’s Good Food y’all, trust me on this.)

20. That’s Not Funny – cyankelpie (G, the one where they’re exceptionally drunk and Crowley says I Love You and Aziraphale thinks he’s joking. This one is sharper than expected but it makes the moment where they finally have everything out in the open so much sweeter. Lots of protective Crowley and very confused Aziraphale.)

21. Stars – @lyricwritesprose (G, the series that’s a spinoff of Tales of the Them that’s about Crowley and the stars, ostensibly. It’s a spinoff bc it deals with Aziraphale’s point of view, too, and their careful navigation of a complicated subject in Crowley’s history. Very soft and bittersweet.)

22. In Action How Like an Angel – PinkPenguinParade (T/NR/M, the series where Aziraphale stumbles into making some useful wards and then Crowley gets taken. Rated high for safety but the violence is truly not that bad and the sex jokes are very mild. Come for cool worldbuilding, stay for BAMF!Aziraphale, and have some extra bits of Anathema and Newt being very good and helpful friends on top!)

23. Let’s share a drink! – @nohaijiachi (G, the one where Aziraphale gets horribly discorporated and gets his body back fairly quickly thanks to quick thinking and Gabriel being easy to gross out. This one is a bit gross, fair warning, but it’s not too graphic, and it’s hilarious besides. Peak Bastard Aziraphale Hours, this one is. If you like reading about Gabriel getting messed with, welcome to the party.)

24. Metastable – MrsCaufield (Not Rated, the one where Aziraphale is having an existential crisis post-Armageddon. Featuring lots of miscommunication, some mild jealousy, and Aziraphale figuring himself out, which is always lovely to read about. Misunderstandings and two supernatural beings being grossly in love, can’t get better than this!)

25. Taking Steps – @joyandotherstories (G, the one where Aziraphale decides he wants to take salsa dancing lessons and Crowley agrees. Oh, y’all. You like pining? You like awkward touching? Do you perhaps like…faked relationships turning into real relationships? You’d best have a seat and dive into this one, because the payoff is many-layered and just phenomenal. The pride in these idiots not only learning to dance but learning to be open about how much they love each other is so good.)

BUS RIDE/NIGHT BEFORE/HEAVEN AND HELL

26. Introspection and Starlight – d20owlbear (T, the one where Aziraphale has a breakdown and is hold. I seem to have a special taste for Aziraphale breaking down, and this one is Hecking Delicious—it’s a slow break but it’s so achingly tender and emotional, especially once sleepy Crowley gets on the scene. Apologies are made and two very tired beings just hold each other at the end of it all and it’s so good.)

27. The Longest Night – @charlottemadison42 (T, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale are taking slow and important steps. Three fics in the series so far, and each one captures their hilarious and effortless dynamic so well while still paying homage to their quiet love. There are so many cool details to explore, ESPECIALLY in the bodyswap fics, and overall they are a really fun and thoughtful look at how the Night the World Didn’t End could’ve gone. OH AND A FOURTH ONE HAS GONE UP WHILE I WAS WORKING ON THIS LIST and you guyssss so much good content about Crowley’s (Presumably) Foot Thing and Shoes, omg. A treasure.)

28. Last Confessions and Hopeless Loves – @girlwholovesherwords (G, the one where they very neatly and annoyingly slot into their new dynamic. This one is so matter-of-fact and tongue-in-cheek I about died laughing, which is amazing given that it’s less than 3k words. A very good little egg.)

29. Choose Your Faces Wisely – @cheeseandonioncrisps (G, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale set the record straight on how they portrayed each other. This is a fun one based on the very good meta bits floating around (which have been bolstered by Neil Gaiman’s commentary in the DVDs I will have you know) that their performances in each other’s skins is how they see each other and how different that is from how they see themselves and guys it’s so good, I wanted this conversation to last forever and ever.)

30. and I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well – BrinneyFriday (T, the one where apologies are made and kisses are had. Guys it’s so soft. Oh my gosh you guys the tenderness is unreal. There’s Crowley falling asleep in Aziraphale’s lap and there’s deciding they’re stronger together and guys pls it’s so good just read it pleASE—)

AU/UA

31. A Curious Case of Miracles on Marlborough Street – @nihilnovisubsole (M, the one where there might be such a thing as too much of a good thing. M for sexual humor and situations but nothing all that graphic. Y’all it’s the “angels accidentally cast miracles when they orgasm” crack given the serious treatment it deserves, and this fic also wins awards for its brilliant OC angel Sabrael, Keeper of Miracles. The icing on the cake? Beautiful artistic accompaniment to go along with the brilliant writing. Just delightful, a whole entire treat. An afternoon delight indeed.)

32. Too Much of a Good Thing – @yamisnuffles (G, T, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale are both angels and things are a bit different. It’s not fair that yamisnuffles is a distinctive and wonderful artist, they have to be a good writer, too, and be terribly talented at telling a good story. Crowley’s character arc and emotional growth as a disgraced angel cursed to live as a snake for a while is fabulous, and it’s only ramping up, so jump on the train now! It’s a good train!)

33. Measures of Freedom – KazLangston (T, the one where Crowley is an acquisition made by one Mr. AZ Fell. This is one of those “turn left” AUs where they’re still an angel and a demon, they just didn’t meet in Eden. Instead, they meet because Crowley gets himself captured and Aziraphale doesn’t think it’s safe to let a real, dangerous demon loose. Their relationship is very combative and antagonistic but it softens; the emotional journey they go on from clear enemies to clear friends is fantastic.)

34. Somewhere Down Below – jane_with_a_j (T, the series where Aziraphale is captured as an incentive for Crowley to jump masters in Hell. There’s lots of hurt!Aziraphale in this one, as tends to happen to an angel captive in Hell, and an excruciating amount of pining that doesn’t so much counterbalance the angst so much as spice it up enormously. There’s intrigue, there’s a daring escape, it’s radical, folks.)

35. How it Happens – @captainqueernerd (T, the one that’s based on a comic and both are DELIGHTFUL. The fic here is an extension of the comic and so sweet, oh my goodness how sweet it is. The best bits aren’t even when they cover the comic’s events—it’s AFTER that is the real treat. I’ll hand out brownie points to anyone who can find the sentence that made me put down my laptop before I accidentally chucked it while laughing too hard.)

36. mors certissima – @northerntrash (T, the Hades and Persephone AU where Aziraphale is Hades and Crowley is Persephone and they’re all doing their best. This is a super fun one, beautifully written and lovely original lore that has Aziraphale really coming into his own as a god of death and what that means for the wider pantheon and the world. And IT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN where the fic is at the moment, I’m pumped for the conclusion!)

37. It’s All Greek to Me (that is, Ineffable) – @ulspi (UR, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale are cast in different mythological roles in each fic. This one’s gorgeous, you guys, haunting and romantic and each fic has a distinct flavor that is impossibly good. A beautiful way to spend a rainy afternoon, in my opinion.)

38. The Princess and the Serpent – @longforgottenhymn (G, the one where Aziraphale takes Crowley to King Arthur’s court to get a nobleman off his back and oh no, fake dating becomes real dating, oh no. You think you’re ready for this fic? FOOL. This fic is going to carve you up from the inside out and you won’t even be READY for it even if you know it’s coming. This fic is going to promise intimacy and deliver in terrible, terrible tenderness. I am being melodramatic but THIS FIC. THIS FIC IS SO GOOD. This fic is not what I was expecting and it hits HARD because of that.)

39. Wicked dance – pirripipi (T, the one that’s a royal AU with incredible depth and complexity. Listen, what this fic might lack in polish it more than makes up for in flat-out interesting worldbuilding. The characterization is on point and the nonlinear storytelling is very well-handled. And that ending! So triumphant, so utterly joyful. What a joy this fic is! Just wait until you see the Garden of Eden, it’s SPECTACULAR.)

40. The sun doesn’t set on the shoreline – VinWrit (G, the one that’s a selkie and siren AU. This one feels more like it’s being told in microfiction installments and that’s certainly interesting on its own, but it reads like a horror story and it’s chock full of worldbuilding, and the characterization of Crowley especially just breaks my heart right in two. What a great little story.)

41. An Angel’s Hope – @braver-stronger-smarter (M, the one that’s a crossover with the Kiesha’ra book series by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes and it’s delicious AF. Not sure why it’s rated M, but it does deal with a war and the fallout of dealing with constant violence and death. Explains things well enough that you don’t need to have read the Kiesha’ra to understand what’s going on (or, like, if it’s been well over a decade since you last read it…), and the integration of Crowley and Aziraphale into the main plot of these shapeshifter snake and bird cultures is effortless. Can’t wait to see where this one goes (bc even if it just follows the plot of Hawksong, it’s sure to be an exciting ride). (Side note, read the Kiesha’ra, it’s a good series.))

42. By Grace – @seaskystone (G, the one that’s the little soulmate AU that could. Not very long but still highly impactful in my opinion, featuring Crowley and Aziraphale meeting in heaven and knowing right away they’re meant for each other, but canon still happens as it does. Short and bittersweet and pretty.)

43. The Ones Who Walk Away from Nevaeh – @soft-october-night (T, the one that’s the “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas” AU none of us ever even knew we needed but heck if we didn’t get it anyway. If you aren’t familiar, “Omelas” is a short story by Ursula K LeGuin that I absolutely believe you must read in order to get the full impact of this and what the author does with the story with regard to our two boys, it’s earth-shattering. Soft-october-night does it again, just goes and makes outstanding AUs that own my entire soul like it ain’t no thing. Completely unfair.)

44. Take the Fall (What’s a Second Time) – @triffidsandcuckoos (T, the one where Crawly does what it says on the tin. This one includes a nice helping of Crowley suffering from chronic pain as a consequence of taking the blame for the apple business, and some sweet care from Aziraphale, who is well aware it’s his fault. An interesting take and a heartwarming story (even if suffering from chronic pain is the pits and there’s no way around that).)

45. forgotten (but not gone) – @writeonclara (T, the one where their memories are taken and Crowley and Aziraphale still manage to stay away from each other for about .04 seconds. This one has some hard edges and it is a harrowing story about accepting others and yourself, and having faith in yourself and your loved one, but the way they can’t keep their hands to themselves when all the stops are pulled out is frankly hilarious and I commend this story whole-heartedly for committing to that.)

46. It’s Not the Years, it’s the Mileage – @moveslikebucky (T, the one that’s an Indiana Jones AU based on @yamisnuffles’ art. You want Aziraphale doing his best in an Indy role while still being an angel? You want Crowley owning a bar and it DOESN’T suck? You want pining and heartache and hilarity? Park it, then, folks, you don’t even need to know the Indiana Jones films to enjoy it (I certainly don’t and I am aware of this failing, thank you).)

47. or the look or the words – @taizi (T, the one where they just keep getting married and it doesn’t stop from happening. Guys they are literally married HUNDREDS OF TIMES throughout history STARTING AT THE ARK. They are literally so soft and so in love and I am beside myself right now, please love yourself and practice some self-care by reading this fic.)

48. Give me a title, I’ll give you my heart – @nohaijiachi (T, the one that’s a human AU based on fanart and it’s great. Single dad Aziraphale with a cautious past, determined son Adam who is gonna get his dad a date if it’s the last thing he does, utterly besotted Crowley who is excellent at being gentle and also a great beta reader…a surprisingly emotional and fun piece, very good.)

49. what if you fall? oh, but my darling, what if i fly? – Doggoos (T, the one where they loved in Heaven and outside interference tore them apart. I LOST THIS FIC AND SPENT FOREVER TRYING TO FIND IT AGAIN. The one detail that kept me going? Crowley (as Raphael) and Aziraphale exchange jewelry before Gabriel sticks his stupid nose in it and the jewelry is visually stunning and emotionally gorgeous. It’s emotional and it’s fraught and there’s erased memories to contend with but holy COW, y’all. They’re so in love.)

50. Snakes and Stones (the Crowley/Aziraphale Human AU) – @deerstalkerdeathfrisbee (G, the series where it’s exactly what it says it is. The opening fic for this series is where literally everyone in Aziraphale’s dorm thinks his boyfriend is made up and Aziraphale has the enormous pleasure of proving them all wrong. It has great Newt characterization and, surprisingly, Gabriel being likeable, though he has to work for it. It’s fun and a little silly and I adore it.)

51. in the arms of the ocean (so sweet and so cold) – robynthemagpie_writes, agent_of_mischief (T, the one where Aziraphale becomes a lighthouse keeper and Crowley is probably a sea monster. This is a horror story and it’s a love story and while reading it kept me awake at night, thinking about it also kept me very much awake at night. I am the world’s biggest chicken and the spoop is real, friends, but more than that, it’s the horrors lurking in Aziraphale’s past (and probably Crowley’s, I have some theories) that are the heartbreaking bit. Not for the faint-hearted, it goes hard and I have a feeling it’s only going to go harder.)

52. i’ve found a way (a way to make you smile) – @fremulon (T, the one that’s an AU of The Office. Requires no knowledge of The Office but I’m sure it helps. This is one I kept putting off and deeply regret doing so (though, on the other hand, waiting so long to read it meant that I caught up the night before the last chapter went up, so HA). Y’all, it’s so funny and so relatable as an adult stuck in a dead-end job I don’t like, and the romance between Aziraphale and Crowley is so simple and so sweet. I just love it and I love this fic and I want you to read it immediately right now.)

53. I Know Places We Won’t Be Found – FangsScalesSkin (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale run away together from the Garden of Eden. I have been waiting for someone to write this forever and it’s finally happening. And it’s got such fun worldbuilding, and their interactions are so cute, and I just love them and want them to be okay and to be married forever and ever.)

54. an imitation of the garden of eden – @dyslexiccrowley (T, the one that’s a D&D-inspired AU. Speaking of AUs that come out of hecking nowhere, here’s one! This one is a really fun adventure, and if you thought me turning the Bentley into a horse in several of my fics was fun, this one beats me out by a country mile and I couldn’t be more gleeful about it because THE BENTLEY IS A DRAGON. I could deffo see the dnd elements throughout but the flavor of it is so unique, I thoroughly enjoyed the adventure and the character moments.)

55. Hell is Just a Sauna – @anthonyjcrowiey (T, the one that’s a “Ten Things I Hate About You” AU. I haven’t seen the film (though I have read Taming of the Shrew and I have been on Tumblr long enough to absorb several gifsets), but this fic was still so good and managed to hook me right in regardless of that fact. I can’t wait for it to finish up, we’re on the emotional crux of the plot and it’s tearing me up how it’s been left!)

56. be mine tonight (be mine forever) – @qorktrees (T, the one that’s a literal “fake dating becomes real dating” AU. Human AU, and these idiots I SWEAR. Aziraphale needs a date for the office Christmas party, Crowley is available and bribable, and of course it ends in their ruse becoming the real deal, this is fanfiction for crying out loud. It happens so sweetly, though, you’ve gotta see this.)

57. Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes – @gigglesnortbangdead (T, the one where Heaven and Hell turn enemies into children instead of smiting. Oh, goodness gracious y’all are not ready for this one. You aren’t ready for the way being turned into a child affects an angel or a demon. You aren’t ready for the myriad ways bb!Crowley is gonna tug at your heartstrings. You aren’t ready for the way Aziraphale is when it finally happens to him. You AREN’T READY. This is precisely why you should go read it right now immediately, to see just how unready you really are. You should take care of that at this exact moment.)

58. Ineffably Yours – SecondHandNews (M, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale choose each other and keep choosing each other. Listen to me: this series is the length of several novels. I have only read the first one, after stumbling on a side-story that was really good and not realizing it was a side-story of a bigger series until I’d finished it. I am planning on reading the rest of the series, which is still updating. I am a little terrified at this titan who has managed to write over 360K words since June in this one series alone. The first one absolutely had me biting my nails and rocking back and forth in an anxious haze, and it’s so tender and so beautiful and SO NERVE-WRACKING. Crowley and Aziraphale learn the Rapture is coming and they just…kinda snap, really. Stop avoiding each other, start choosing each other, and all the twists and turns that comes with it. Just. Really outstanding work, I am an anxious mess but it’s good XD)

JUST SOFT

59. Where to Start – @freyjawriter24 (T, the one where Crowley nearly kisses Aziraphale throughout history like A LOT. Guys you wanna feel the pine crushing into your soul? You want to feel that deep ache of wanting to touch so badly but holding back out of sheer desperate force of will? Read this, prepare to have your knees appropriately weakened from the longing.)

60. A Softer Fall – @themoonmothwrites (T, the one that’s the wall shoving but soft. Bury me in this one, boys, my corpse will rest well for eternity, because holy COW the longing and the fear and the reassurances…my heart is a marshmallow now and it’s this fic’s fault.)

61. for the dancing and the dreaming – @une-danse-macabre (G, the one where Aziraphale proposes. Listen I know this entire section of the post is for Soft Fic but this is Softe Fic and I am not joking even a little bit. Crowley desperately deflecting using humor bc he is so overwhelmed? It’s more likely than you think. Read this, it’s a beautiful little shot of humor and romance.)

62. in candlelight, we dance – SaerM (T, the one where they take a shower together. I have a deep and abiding weakness for bathing fic, and even better, it’s not a sex fic! Just two ineffable partners being tender and washing each other and being together. So sweet and good.)

63. A Pile of Pillows – @waffleironbiddingwar (T, the one where Aziraphale seems to have built a nest during a weekend apart. There’s a few cute nesting fics in this here post but this is one of my very favorites; even has some wing grooming, and lots of teasing and kissing. Very cute!)

64. When the Wind Changes – Star_less (G, the one where Crowley makes faces at babies. Listen. LISTEN. You don’t have to personally like kids to go all gooey over how much Crowley seems to like kids, entirely without meaning to. It’s too cute. Someone call the Cute Police.)

65. with adorations, with fertile tears – waywarder (T, the one where there’s an emotional meltdown while watching a high school production of Twelfth Night. So sweet and unsure and awkward, this one; it’s canon-verse, Aziraphale just drags Crowley to a high school production and then proceeds to very nearly have an angelic aneurysm over trying to hold his hand. If you’ve a soft spot for the Ineffable Husbands quoting Shakespeare at each other, welcome to the party, you’ve arrived.)

66. Sleeping Angel – @whatawriterwields (G, the one where Aziraphale is asleep on Crowley’s chest. It should be noted that this writer wields tenderness like a weapon, stiletto right between the ribs to knock all that breath right out of you, which is a much more gruesome descriptor than I probably should’ve used but YOU GUYS CROWLEY TALKS TO AZIRAPHALE IN HIS SLEEP AND IT’S SO SWEET AND I CAN’T BREATHE.)

67. in so many words – @asideofourown (G, the one where Aziraphale has trouble saying “I love you.” This one made me laugh and “aww” in equal measure, but to get you to click on the link and read as fast as I did, Aziraphale says “thank you” the first time Crowley says “I love you” and I DIED.)

68. A First Christmas, Once Again – lalaland666 (G, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale get to celebrate Christmas together. This one has a fun twist on why Aziraphale dislikes the holidays and a really cute Crowley getting excited for them, and I think it’s well worth reading whether or not you find the December holiday season celebratory or not.)

69. (i love you) as you are – @asideofourown (T, the one where Crowley tries to change to be more like Aziraphale in order to keep him and it’s heartbreaking. Listen, this writer is great and more often than not draws me in bc the dialogue is so good, but this one just crushed my heart into pieces, because Crowley is trying SO HARD and he doesn’t have to but doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have to and AUGH.)

70. the commendation – @forineffablereasons (G, the one where Aziraphale’s ring is itself a commendation from Heaven. This one is short and sweet but it GUTS me every time, just over Aziraphale and how much Heaven screwed him over and failed him by making him feel like the failure. Something this short should not hurt me so much AND YET. Crowley makes it better. Obviously.)

71. the other way round – @forineffablereasons (G, the one where Aziraphale lays in Crowley’s lap instead. Listen we all love it when Crowley puts his head in Aziraphale’s lap but this writer has the right of it, we don’t see it nearly enough the other way round and HHHHGK. The tenderness. The softness. It BURNS.)

72. Every Song in Every Key – @impishtubist (T, the one with the seriously misleading summary. I mean this in the best possible way. Crowley being the one to enjoy the holidays is fun enough, but the true meat of this fic came out of nowhere and it hit me square in the squishy bits. One of the tags is “kid fic” for a little bit of a hint but I shan’t spoil it for you, just go read about Crowley being soft.)

73. shed a sweet light – @areyougonnabe (T, the one that’s not anti-holiday so much as a non-holiday holiday fic. That was probably confusing for you BUT IN ESSENCE: Aziraphale has been around too long to get too attached to any particular holiday (plus time passes so differently when you’re immortal), and attracts the ire of holiday influencers. It gets surprisingly dire, and then delightfully Jewish. Has the exact heart that every holiday story hopes for: quiet, enduring love amidst the chaos. A beautiful little thing.)

BEFORE

74. Unexpected Variables – @seaskystone (T, the one where God keeps having to reset the universe. Hands-down the most hilarious fic on the list just by virtue of God’s impending migraine in dealing with Crowley and Aziraphale, who are so incompetent and I love them so much.)

75. Astralphysiastrics – @wortlby2 (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale finally talk about Before. This one’s “Before” elements take place in flashbacks but given that they’re a pretty significant portion of the fic, I put it in this category anyway. Guys this one HURTS, but there’s healing in it, too, which is a beautiful balance. Ends nice and fluffy, which is a good landing after the flashbacks are done tossing you about.)

TOUCH-STARVED/BODY WORSHIP/WINGS

76. To Preen a Songbird – @tiger-in-the-flightdeck (T, the one that’s just some good old-fashioned preening, y’all. Prepare for these idiots being silly and bantering and teasing, because the back-and-forth is so good. SO good. So very, very good.)

77. Life Hurts (But Not With You) – Spider_Lilly (T, the series that’s about Aziraphale letting Crowley preen him. This one takes a pretty serious turn and talks about what happens to angels with slightly more realistic-type wings who don’t have help preening. Fair warning, there’s a bit of grossness with impacted preen glands (which are oil glands) and if you are squeamish I would tread carefully, bc it can get a bit disturbing when Crowley has to help deal with them, but if you like realistic wing care, this is the series for you. Also love. Also pining. Also they’re kind of the same story from different perspectives and the one from Aziraphale’s perspective is SO MUCH WORSE EMOTIONALLY. A good bit of catharsis fic, for sure.)

78. Descent Suspension – @onheil-ferguson (M, the one where Crowley could use some tying up. M for shibari but it’s nonsexual. Book!verse. I apparently have a thing for nonsexual BDSM and bondage, because this fic absolutely took my breath away. It’s very calm and understated and dignified, just feels quiet. A beautiful piece, for sure.)

79. The End (of the Beginning) or A Not-So-Nice or Accurate Guide to Sex on a Stick, By Anthony J. Crowley, Demon. – @fantasticallyobscure (T, the one where Crowley has been trying sex with all the wrong people. Not explicit at all, just has a lot of discussions about sex, which can be off-putting but now you know going in (if the title didn’t give it away). Basically Crowley keeps trying sex with people who have his same physical build and loses his appetite for it, until he and Aziraphale finally get their heads on straight and Aziraphale wants to try it. Some hilarious metaphors and a lot of adorable Aziraphale being jealous, which is a trip. A wonderful little romp, for sure!)

80. You Are Unbreaking (Though Quaking) – @lesbianscrowleys (T, the one where Aziraphale works through his knee-jerk reactions to being touched. A very good little snapshot of healing and working through things while communicating with your partner, and there’s a fun side-story about accepting who you are that underscores the main theme rather well. Crowley is so good and patient and Aziraphale is trying so hard.)

81. A Treatise Concerning Religious Affectations – forthegreatergood (T, the one where there are discussions of religious ecstasy versus regular ecstasy. This one involves more or less orgasming via manipulation of miraculous brain chemistry, and it’s a little bit funky, but you get in the vibe of the fic pretty quickly, I think, the writer is good about setting the tone. And it’s adversarial as all heck, this is a legitimate disagreement Crowley and Aziraphale are having and you feel every weighty second of it. It’s sensual, I think, but not necessarily erotic, and that’s a hard needle to thread and they do it very well.)

82. 451°F – @purple-suits (G, the one after the church bombing where Aziraphale wants so badly it hurts. Guys, oh you guys, the pure need in this one isn’t even really sexual but it HURTS, it is so physical and raw and achey. It absolutely put about five more aches under my skin just from secondhand need. Oh, y’all. Oh beans.)

BONUS

83. Chaos Theory – @themoonmothwrites (T, the series that’s about Adam hitting on Warlock in a bar and then reintroducing him to his old nanny and gardener. This one is 1. prime Adam/Warlock material, and 2. PRIME Warlock/facing his feelings and confronting his past and figuring out his future material. I have the weakest spot possible for Warlock Dowling and this one hits that spot like a LOT.)

84. Through the branches there’s a son that’s always shone – @jessicafish (G, the one with a contented Warlock. This one is a Halloween fic that has the softest Warlock and Crowley interaction of all time, it’s so short but it hits so hard and I must thank it for my life, really.)

85. Love, And Its Interference With The Nature of Reality – @souljellied (M, the one where Adam has a big ole crush and reality is warping for Warlock. M for some saucy makeouts at the start but it’s pretty tame. Guys if the fact that at one point the headlines in a news stand all read “TOP TEN REASONS TO DATE ADAM YOUNG” before Warlock blinks and they all change back to normal isn’t a good enough reason to read this fic then I don’t know what to tell you, it’s so delightfully tongue-in-cheek about Adam’s effect on reality and so funny and so sweet, even if it does end on a note that makes me howl for wanting a continuation.)

86. Slumber Party Summons and Aftereffects – @joyandotherstories (G, the series where Crowley gets summoned by a party of teenage girls and has a very heartfelt, productive evening with them. I dragged my feet on this story for incomprehensible reasons so DON’T YOU MAKE MY MISTAKES. The teenage girls who summon Crowley are so sweet and loveable, each and every one of them, and guys they ship Crowley and Aziraphale so hard when they finally pry Crowley’s life story out of him, with help from some memory projection witchery. It’s so good, y’all, so cute and so fresh. Just the best.)

87. Christmas Delivery – Daegaer (G, the one where Gabriel sends obnoxious Christmas cards and they are the highlight of Heaven’s holiday (to make merciless fun of). It should be noted that these Christmas cards all feature artistic renderings of Gabriel himself. I about died laughing and it’s canon now in my heart. I should not be endeared to the Archangels but here we are.)

88. and i don’t care if you don’t want me (i’m yours anyhow) – shaekspeares (T, the one where Warlock is figuring himself out at uni. This one is complex and deadpan and has such a good representation of Warlock and what he could grow to be, plus that excellent Warlock/Adam content I am always here for and Warlock having a complete meltdown over the idea that his former nanny and gardener were sent by his parents to spy on him, but not that they’re an angel and a demon. This kid has his priorities in order. Well, no, he doesn’t, but it’s fun to watch him get there. And he and Adam have the best dynamic ever, it’s full of friction and no small amount of adversarial energy turning sweet over time. This fic is physically healing to read and we aren’t even done yet. A fantastic addition to the fandom, if just for what Warlock does to the British equivalent of the Young Republican student body.)

89. Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach – Nnm (T, the one where Crowley gets a therapist. I know most of you should know this, or at least have heard of it, but pipe down bc I finally got around to reading it and it’s AMAZING. If you’re a human who’s gone to a good therapist or who needs to, this story’s protagonist is phenomenal. And she’s not static in her own journey, either, she grows and heals along with Crowley, and it’s not linear or clean or simple. Like real life, it has dips and turns and bad patches, but the healing is palpable. A masterwork, truly, just real dadgum good, y’all.)

H/C /WHUMP/BAMF

90. I Don’t Want the World to See Me – @coulson-is-an-avenger (T, the one where they navigate an unexpected boundary concerning Crowley’s glasses. People who flinch every time they read about Aziraphale taking off Crowley’s glasses without permission rejoice: we have a fix-it fic for you. It’s tender in every sense of the word, and shows great boundary communication (y’know after the immediate scare is over), and all around is incredibly worth the read.)

91. Still Waking Up – @sleepymccoy (T, the one that’s trauma recovery with lots of bed-sharing and pining. Friendos if you want to feel every inch of that slow burn, you’ve arrived. This fic is careful and it’s emotionally ragged-edged and it’s just so dang pretty as Crowley and Aziraphale work through their separate issues and come to terms with what it means to them to be together with each other.)

92. Borrowed Scars – dreamsofspike (M, the one where Aziraphale finds out what Crowley goes through when he’s in Hell. M for implied/referenced rape and onscreen torture (and like some heavy petting that gets interrupted by feels). This one’s heavy, y’all, heavier than my usual fare, bc Aziraphale is in Hell wearing Crowley’s body when he finds this out so it’s pretty firsthand. Most of the bad bits are told in flashbacks but there’s also the healing part where Crowley finds out and he and Aziraphale have to have a heart-to-heart about what happened and how it’s never going to happen again. Drags you through the mud but then sets you back on your feet, a very good little number, I thought.)

93. Surviving Hell – @whatawriterwields (T, the series where Crowley’s coping mechanism is to shut down and then that coping mechanism becomes maladaptive in the new world. If you’re like me, you’re used to this writer writing the fluffiest creations known to man, so this foray into deeper territory socks like a cannonball right in the gut. Crowley’s healing process is long and it’s slow, with so much aching tender care from Aziraphale it is physically painful in a way. Can’t wait for it to update, I am INVESTED.)

94. Easier than Air – @a-candle-for-sherlock (G, the one where Aziraphale finally deals with stuff. This is a collection of panic attacks, as a warning; Aziraphale’s entire six-thousand-year life is catching up to him, living under Heaven’s eye and knowing he doesn’t measure up, still trying to be with Crowley even though knowing the danger…it’s a lot on a person, and it all kinda comes crashing down after Armageddon’t. Crowley takes care of him, talks and holds him through it all, and it’s so sweet, so freeing to vicariously fall apart through Aziraphale and be held through it by Crowley. Just. Augh.)

95. So Still I Wait – HotCrossPigeon (T, the one where Heaven locks Aziraphale in a void, basically, for three months, and then dump him back on earth for Crowley to pick up the pieces. Guys this one is part of a “hurt Aziraphale” series and it delivers. Aziraphale is his usual soft, silly self all throughout and that makes it hurt worse when he’s suffering, and downright agonizing when he’s trying to recover. Heaven is horrible to him throughout, and Crowley is so gentle and scared, and honestly I don’t know how I didn’t just keel over while reading it. This takes touch-starved to an extreme that booted it from the Touch-Starved category and into this one, because WOW. WOW.)

96. Flaming Like Anything – @thepoetoftime (NR, the one where any weapon Aziraphale holds flames. This one isn’t silly, exactly, but it is hilarious watching Aziraphale flame things like a stick and an umbrella and then absolutely CREAM his foes with them. Never stood a chance, poor souls. A wonderful read, with a surprising twist near the end I highly recommend savoring, it’s too good a mental image.)

97. Love Seeketh Not Itself to Please – @dietraumerei (T, the one where Aziraphale is hurt by a summoning and Crowley takes him to Heaven for healing. This one hurts on so many levels I don’t know where to begin. There’s the physical hurt—obviously—but then there’s the tension of our favorite reprobates being back in Heaven, and a moment where the rug is pulled that is disorienting and just…hateful, absolutely hateful, but in the weirdest, most relieving way. I cannot explain this to you, you must read it. And then sweet, sweet aftercare, because of course. I wouldn’t recommend it to you if there wasn’t any comfort in it, and this writer in particular has historically done excellently with the comfort aspect; this is certainly no different. It absolutely tickled my fancy.)

98. Cry for Absolution – forthegreatergood (T, the one where a miscommunication causes six thousand years of touch avoidance. Guys. GUYS. Crowley thinks his touch hurts Aziraphale and you know what it actually does? It actually hurts ME, personally, watching Crowley misread Aziraphale’s little gasps and flinches as pain rather than shock. Then they fight about it, and things resolve, but HHHNG. THAT PINING. THAT TOUCH-STARVED LONGING.)

99. White Walls and Dead Air – BabyHoldMyFlower (G, the one where Crowley has to physically take Aziraphale away from the plague. This one lands in this category rather than in the Body Worship/Touch-Starved/Wings category is the sheer (DESERVED) emotional vitriol Aziraphale has bottled up in him, the anger at God and Heaven, and how ragged he is from trying to stay ahead of the plague but just not being able to. Crowley helps, because of course he does, but this fic is the emotional equivalent of being put through a wringer. It’s exhausting and it’s beautiful.)

#good omens #good omens fic recs #mega gomens fic rec list #i guess i'm just gonna keep making these until i die #or until my gomens interest wanes #whichever comes first #phew what a big baby this post is

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