#hong joshua imagine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amourcheol · 2 months ago

Text

blurring the lines

❝Why learn the complexities of desire all by yourself, when your dearest friend can merely teach you?❞

bridgerton! au | friends with benefits! au | smut, fluff | 32.6k words

s u m m a r y : you think you know everything about your best friend, dashing bachelor joshua hong. when you stumble upon his suggestive literature from his recent travels, however, reading even an extract is enough to make you question everything. unsure of your newfound feelings, you turn to your confidante, unaware of just how much knowledge—and experience—he has to offer.

c o n t e n t : best friend! joshua, best friend! soonyoung too, references of real erotic literature from the 1700s because this is not an amourcheol fic without historical accuracy, joshua acts like a man (yikes), soonyoung a true mvp, diamond's member shenanigans mature warnings -> tons of sexual tension, making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (regency protection is goofy mb), overstimulation, corruption kink (!!!), body worshipping, mc is horned up, surprising amount of fluff in this lawl

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : the first installment for the bridgerton series is finally here! you can read this as a standalone, so don't feel any pressure to start something huge!! thank you to alice and addy for hearing me yap about this all the time and thank you to anyone who reads this work <33

playlist | series masterlist | main masterlist

AS PER USUAL, KWON SOONYOUNG WAS LATE FOR HIS MEETING WITH YOU.

You glanced at the clock for possibly the twenty-seventh time that afternoon, twisting your lips in a scowl as you swirled your now lukewarm tea. Of course the man, who thought being on time was unfashionable, would refuse to leave you as an exception. You should not have expected any other possibility—you, you thought, were the fool for expecting a man to keep his word.

Another ten minutes, and you were already writing the enraged letter in your head when you heard the distant din of carriages stopping in a rush beyond the doors, and instantly you jumped from the chair you restlessly waited in. The servant that entered the room began to inform you of an arrival, but you did not listen to the end of his sentence, dashing out into the hallways of your home, the entrance door closing within reach.

You made to open the door, expecting to see the resident eccentric plastering his best pleading expression on his devious face, enacting the role of an apologetic wrongdoer.

What welcomed you instead had your entire universe standing still.

This time, you would have forgiven Soonyoung for breaking his word.

Because there, in the place you had settled and gossipped and lived in for years upon years, was another addition. There, in the centre of the doorway, was a man who, too, had shared in the meddling, had stayed over and regaled his own tales with you till you fell asleep alongside each other.

Lord Joshua Hong smiled at the sight of you, and you barely contained your sob as you darted towards him.

He had only begun to open his arms before you jumped straight into them, and he staggered back, chuckling into your skin. He wrapped his hands around you, tightening his grip the more you let the choked gasp escape, emotions now unable to be restrained.

You could not help yourself—Joshua was not supposed to come as early as he had, you thinking that his trip to the Continent would last another fortnight. You were certain of it, since you had read over his last letter enough times to memorise his neat cursive, assuring you of his imminent return.

You said it yourself, lips close to his ear. “I thought you had another two weeks.”

You felt him hum at your claim—mulling over his response. “I longed for home,” was his response, grasping you just the bit tighter. That only had you smiling, accepting the embrace twice over.

It was a while before Soonyoung cleared his completely-clear-already throat in a melodramatic fashion. “I did not receive this welcome when I returned from the Continent,” he greeted from behind the new arrival, side-stepping past you two.

Joshua lifted his head to retort, “That is because _____ does not care for you.”

When the younger saw you merely shrugging, he huffed. “Can you sod off back to Paris, please? She is so much worse when you are around.”

As you finally pushed your dear friend at arm’s length, you quirked an eyebrow at the accuser. “You did not receive this welcome because you, Soonyoung, were particularly insufferable on your return. I recall you refused to speak in nothing but French for the fortnight afterwards.”

“Because that language is so attractive!” he declared, walking further into the townhouse. “Even your dearest friend would agree with me.”

But the said-man shook his head, shooting him with what you thought was a comical glare. “Whatever their attraction in the language, I will commend them, at least, in their literature.” He then looked behind him, revealing the luggage barely hidden from the carriage windows.

You followed his line of sight. “Have you not unpacked?”

“I arrived not an hour ago,” he said, jerking his head towards the younger, “and now Soonyoung insists on holding a soirée this evening to announce my return.”

“First of all, Lady Whistledown has already predicted it, so might as well prove her right!” he demanded, walking over to you and him. “And secondly, you have a few hours to prepare yourself.”

“A few hours to settle myself after months of journeying,” he grumbled. “Can I not simply announce my arrival by strolling around St. James’ park?”

“Out of the question!” Soonyoung refused, rubbing his hands together in glee. “And I do not know why you feign apprehension to a little socialising! The evening will only gather around a hundred of my closest friends.”

“By God, have you befriended all of London?” you sighed, shaking your head. “Still, you know I will attend, or else you will never stop complaining about it.”

“See? _____ understands!” Soonyoung grabbed the eldest by the shoulder. “Come on, it will be fun! At least spare me a few hours.”

Joshua only frowned in thought, ready to decline the spontaneous invitation. Maybe he would have done it outright, but then he turned to you, a finger and thumb upon his chin. “You will be there?”

You nodded—that alone was all it took to cement his decision. “Then count me in,” he said to his friend.

And as Soonyoung complained anyway, ranting on Joshua’s low opinion of him, the latter only winked at you, smiling with a mischief he miraculously maintained even after all these years.

It had you returning his mirth. Welcome home, dear friend.

AS EXPECTED, LORD KWON SOONYOUNG��S SOIRÉE WAS LESS AN INTIMATE GATHERING AND MORE AN OUTRIGHT BALL.

Regardless of the host’s constant refuting, Joshua was certainly not pleased, who had reserved his energies on spending time with those close to him, and not the entire ton’s eligible ladies and mamas. With the social season commencing soon, the eligible ladies and gentlemen were already sizing each other, finding allies or opponents within the battleground of the ballroom.

The recently returned gentleman, he realised with no small amount of horror, had become something of a most eligible bachelor London’s society had witnessed this year. Granted, he was of a beautiful countenance, and had the wealth to accentuate his good looks, but he was under the impression that three months in the Continent would have dampened his thriving reputation in society. What he failed to grasp was that absence always makes the heart of the yearner—and their yearners’ mamas, apparently—grow fonder.

You watched him twirl a rather pretty girl as you took another bite of the finger sandwiches set out ornately on the long, white-clothed tables behind you. Soonyoung, who was right beside you, observed his friend, speaking up. “I swear he has been on the floor for an hour now.”

“Three-quarters of one,” you corrected, savouring the cream cheese, meshed with tomatoes and cucumbers. “And every single time it has been a different lady pushed in front of him.”

“He is the talk of the ton right now.” He took hold of a sandwich from the table, eating the entire thing in one go. “A few weeks in the European air has made him more attractive, no?”

You shook your head at his rather suspicious comment, but it was not wrong—Joshua glowed with a shine many lacked within society, as if his body wished to exonerate his freedom to journey wherever he wished. “If I was him, I would have excused myself three dances ago.”

“Alas, our friend is a perfect gentleman,” Soonyoung drawled, crossing his arms. “And you would be the rotten bachelor destined to be alone.”

You rolled your eyes, looking at him. “Huge claims coming from someone who has danced once this entire evening.”

“At least I have danced once, my dear.”

You frowned, glancing back at the ‘perfect gentleman’. It was not as if you were not offered—you simply had another partner in mind. “I am too hungry to dance,” you said instead, itching to reach for your fourth bite-size sandwich for the evening.

“Whatever you say,” he chanted, reaching to grab the very food you pretended to hunger for and handing it to you.

As you took a bite, the quadrille was at an end, applause echoing throughout the ballroom. As the ‘perfect man’ bowed, offering whoever he danced with a dazzling smile, the girl could only admire him, stars in her eyes as he turned his back on her.

It was almost unnerving, how instantly his eyes found yours in the crowd.

With a determined gaze he whisked his way around half the mothers that wished to present their daughters, a honey-sweet smile enough to keep his admirers at bay as he forged his path towards you. Once he finally escaped the crowd, he wasted no time, setting his flawless smiles upon you.

“My apologies, angel,” he began, slowing down before you, “the ton’s mamas refused to leave me alone.”

“Do not pretend you despised your admirers,” you chastised, about to eat the rest of your snack when you saw your friend’s eyes lock onto it.

The moment you offered it to him, he reached out and plucked out the half-eaten sandwich from your hands. “Thank you,” he said, finishing it promptly. “And no, attention is great at times, but not when I had other things in mind.”

“All you have to do is say no,” the younger suggested, as if it was the easiest choice.

“It is your fault,” Joshua accused, grabbing a drink from the table beside you. “Perhaps if you refrained from inviting half of London I’d have some peace of mind.” He then gently nudged you, grabbing your attention. “I was robbed of the chance to waltz with you.”

“Your bestest friend was complaining about that not ten minutes ago,” Soonyoung confessed, which had you glaring at his amusement.

The man locked you in an inquisitive stare, almost smirking. “Is that so?”

You made to lighten the confession by shrugging, a bare-lift of your shoulders. “What other reason did I have to attend tonight?”

When he smiled at you, an unfiltered grin that was closed off to the rest, it had you returning it earnestly. Soonyoung, however, lost any hilarity at hearing your declaration. “Another very important reason can be to support me, you vile creature.”

But the two of you dutifully ignored him, Joshua parting his mouth as he settled himself next to you, his side barely brushing against yours. “It is good, though, that you came tonight. I have something for you.”

“Is that so?” You got out, observing his hand sliding inside his coat pocket. He took only a moment before he fished out a small, rectangular package, wrapped neatly in brown paper and tied together with string. “Oh! So you just…kept that with you this entire time?”

“I meant to give it earlier, but you saw my diversions.” He handed over the present. “Open it.”

Flipping it over, you gave it a once-over before unravelling the string. Holding onto it still, you unwrapped the carefully folded paper. Once the barriers had fallen, you could barely contain a gasp as your eyes set upon the most intricately decorated novel, barely larger than your hand. It was a special collection you could only procure in France, as travel-sized literature had not yet become popularised on English soil. You studied the cover, swirls of gold etched onto dark, polished leather, the bookmarked string nestled within the pages.

“Joshua…” you got out, running your fingers over the hardback. “I…how did you even know I wanted La Religieuse? It has been banned everywhere!”

“All the harder to find it for you,” he agreed, finishing his wine and setting the glass next to him. “Fortunately, Wonwoo knew of a special bookseller in Montmartre that specialised in more revolutionary literature. I found the special edition of Diderot’s work there, and bought it that instant.” He then scoffed. “He was mentioned in every one of your letters. I’d have been a fool not to understand the message.”

You glanced at him, eyes dancing. “Good to know you can read between the lines.”

“But of course!” he leaned a little closer. “I know you better than anyone in this room.”

You fought hard, but eventually lost the restraint to smile wider. You could not help it, see—it was true. He knew you on a level quite unmatched with any individual. It was a fact you found yourself feeling an immense pride for.

“Thank you,” you said, holding onto the novel for dear life. “I will read it the second I return home.”

“Do not thank me just yet,” he countered, trailing his gaze to the exit, where a sliver of the grand staircase was visible. “You have not seen the entire trunk.”

“Entire trunk?” you repeated, not quite believing him. “You did not.”

But he was beaming smug, as if achieving a great victory. “See for yourself, angel.”

As you followed his line of sight, Soonyoung, too, observed your changing of plans, quirking a brow. “What happened to waltzing with Joshua?”

“There will always be more evening soirées from yours truly, no?” your smile turned saccharine at the shake of your friend’s head. “Now where did you put his luggage?”

He threw a pointed finger towards the half-hidden staircase. “The spare study, fourth door on your right. And do make haste, or else your mother will come after me!”

“You can manage just fine!” you called after him, stepping out from the group as you looked to the eldest. “Wish to escape, too?”

“I wish, but duty calls for me.” He sighed, patting the host’s shoulder heartily. “Once Soonyoung has rinsed me fully, I will come up.”

Nodding, you bid the gentlemen adieu before turning on your heel, making sure no one in particular witnessed your hurried exit from the ballroom. Following instructions, you journeyed up the grand stairs, each step conquered quickly as you anticipated the gifts brought from foreign lands. Once you came across the fourth door, you turned the knob, entering the familiar room.

Your eyes darted over the vast study, barely lit up by the light of the full moon which managed to shine through half-drawn, velvet curtains. Lines of shelves, reaching from ceiling-to-floor, were filled to the brim with old books, varying from literature he himself had recommended to older accounts of the Hong family, written by his ancestors and now being accounted for by the heir you waited for. It would have been strange, since this was not the Hong seat, but Joshua visited Soonyoung enough to work officially in his estate, highlighting their friendship.

As you walked fully in, your low heels sinking in the soft Persian carpet, your gaze fell on his mahogany desk, harbouring a myriad of open books and papers scattered across its surface. You did not know why he did not simply clean the mess he created on such an expensive table.

Tutting, you immediately walked over to the desk, reaching down at some of the fallen papers and neatly assembling them into similar heights. Aside from the accounts, there were also works of fictions—novels from abroad, private poetry collections of the rising writers in London, even collections from decades earlier. Curiosity piquing, you held one of the books, observing the title—Les Liaisons Dangereuse, L’edition 1782. An older French novel you had never heard of—Dangerous Liaisons it was translated to.

You set the book down, creating a new category besides the accounts. Two other novels revealed themselves from under the one you held, the first one another French novella, and the other one from a London publisher. Holding up the first, you once again beheld the title. The School of Venus, or the Ladies’ Delight, Reduced into Rules of Practice.

Venus. Limited classical education had taught you enough to know that Venus was the goddess of love. Ladies’ Delight on the other hand confused you. What delight were these ladies experiencing, and why was Joshua reading about it? The other book was in a language you understood perfectly, holding it in both hands as you scoured its heading on the second page. Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure. Vol. I & II, 1748.

Releasing a short breath, you put it down, perhaps hoping to delve into the contents when, beneath both of these works, you found a book which had piqued your curiosity to the very ceiling.

It was another book—no, a journal, as it was smaller in size, the pages wider, thicker. Leaning down to study the work, you came across the neat, italic curls of the writer’s words, as if the ink had dried recently. A definite journal, then. The page was set at random, continuing an adventure written beforehand. Your eyes, an inquisitive lens, scanned the writing, bracing yourself to enjoy whatever your friend was reading.

…as I touched her face, her cheek, like instinct, moulding within the planes of my palm, her warmth, an infectious condition, spread to my hand. I had mused beforehand of the beauty of the Parisians, but these Venetian women had gained a precedence. They found, with such perfect ease, the catalyst to the breakdown of my collected conduct, earning my sighs as I kissed them with a newfound interest, a yearning to satiate in the dark corners of the coffeehouse.

You paused, brows furrowing. This was certainly unlike any other novel you had read. You skimmed the leather-covered front, golden curls of the title shining in the moonlight. Confessions of a Gentleman in the Continent. J. H.

J. H. You could decipher those initials within any page.

Holding the journal in your hands, you snuck a glance at the door—closed, with the din of the ball far away.

Every essence of logic implored you to put the book down.

You closed the book, instantly releasing a short breath. J. H. Joshua Hong. You did not know what it was, but something unsettling stirred within you at his name—you had procured something you were not meant to find, uncovered a grave secret, meant to be hidden forever. What you should have done was leave it as Joshua had left it, never provide him with an inkling that you had found such strange treasures in his private sphere. His strange, literary treasures.

What you foolishly decided to do was turn the page.

Hovering over to the chair, you mindlessly settled on its cushioned seat as you began reading the journal, fingers idly turning the thick, crisp pages. The dread morphed into something so undecipherable you had to stop your reading.

Passages upon passages of Joshua’s feelings record his sensations—sensations you had never felt, never even knew of before this night. The sentences imprinted in your mind as you began to hunch over, following each word like a mysterious code needed to solve the riddle of your feelings.

The luscious talk in which we engaged, pressed up against the crackling walls, in which modesty was far from respected…Another sentence, another scenario of his observations…Produced naked, stiff and erect…of a valour she had never seen before, and which, for the interest of my own seat of pleasure began to take furiously in it…Your heart almost dropped. Her senses were rightfully much flurried, too much concentrated in that now burning spot of hers which kindled from yours truly…burning because of me, from my ministrations.

Burning. Pleasure. The words were tossing and turning in your head, but you refused to stop, not when the woman committed an action which had you losing your rationale.

This time, you rasped the narration out. “I observed the spry thing steal her shaking hand up her petticoats, and…with fingers on fire, seized and yet more inflamed that centre of all her senses…” You stopped, suddenly feeling the presence of your own petticoats, clinging to your legs—as they always do. “I breathed with an enticing pain. I felt my own senses on fire, watching her writhe and compress the lips of that—” A shudder of breath at the next words— “That virgin… virgin slit, and following…as far as I could find purchase, brought on at last the critical ecstasy, into which nature spent…with excess of pleasure, dissolved and died away within my hand.”

The sentence stopped, your vision almost glazing over at the content you had taken in. Never before had you read—come across, even—such literature. Of course, captivating writing had brought you to extreme emotions, when you were angered at a character’s betrayal, or cried at the deaths of a beloved love interest. This feeling, however, was foreign; something that was born not from the heart, like your usual reactions, but everywhere. Slowly tingling, sparkling like embers from a fireplace. The fingers on fire had you witnessing the languid movement of your own, lighter than you last remembered—as if they were truly burning to cinders. Even your thighs you twisted as the unnamed woman had done in your pages, a tightening barely there.

And the virgin slit…something unmarried, an entity unsullied. A shuddered breath escaped you as you brought yourself out of the trance, blinking back at what you had engulfed.

You knew, then and there, that you had to leave.

You made to depart the study, but you quickly glanced back at the novel. It was as if it had its own life force, its own pull, luring you closer once again. No, no! you reasoned with yourself, because these genres of literature will always be noticed if borrowed—stolen. You could not take the book, even if your life depended on it.

That was why you thought it outside of your control, when, despite reason, despite good sense, your hands reached out, swiping Confessions from the table and hurrying to the door.

You would have even been successful—would have been, if you had not opened the study door so covertly, and knocked against the very man you wished to avoid.

“Argh!” a grunt escaped, followed by your own yelp as your contraband fell with a thud! to the floor, right at your feet—and Joshua’s, who, after stumbling back a little, finally focused on you, confusion altering his features. “_____? Oh God, I apologise for making you wait so long,” he dusted at his coat as his gaze, to your absolute horror, trailed down to what fell because of him. “Soonyoung refused to let me leave…”

He never finished, pausing when he worked out the book which fell from your hands.

If there was any way to escape this present situation, you would have sacrificed your firstborn to ensure it. Because the fates were cruel, you could only stay rooted as you watched him bend down on one knee, picking up the leather-back. He glanced at the title at the front, and every bone in his body stilled, losing any essence of warmth as he parted his mouth.

It felt like a lifetime later when he spoke. “Where…” He held the book upward. “Where did you find this?” Involuntarily your eyes flickered to the table, and he followed, turning his head to the study, which he noticed immediately was tidied—tampered with. “You went through my things?”

“I did not mean to!” you exclaimed, gaping at his sudden charge towards the desk, you hot at his heels. “I just thought it looked like a mess, so I tried cleaning it—”

“You are not a servant,” he cut off, darting over the new order of his account books, as well as the fiction which you had assembled. “You are not required to look after me like that.”

“I know, but—”

“And sneaking out with my possessions? Without my permission?” He smacked the book on the table, making you flinch. “I thought you better than that.”

You were better than that—well, at least until tonight. You ransacked your mind for an excuse, any form of escape, except your words were absolutely pathetic. “You have never minded me reading your novels before,” you attempted. “In fact, you encouraged me to scour your shelves.”

He looked at the book again—a moment too long—and went back to set a slight glare upon you. “Well, my journal is not a trivial novel. It was private…not meant for you.”

You knew that. What did not settle well, though, was that your dearest friend, who had shared his every worry, his every confession to you, had been doing things you had no inkling of, and set such…extraordinary feelings from you.

You had to know what more lay in those pages—and why you had felt the way you felt in those pages which your eyes did scour. “I read it.”

His glare faltered. “How much?”

That question was answered with another. “What was it, Joshua?” You stepped forward, a timid gesture, so you could catch a look at the hardback again. “I…I read some pages, and…what was she doing?”

His hand on his journal pushed it back. “I do not know.”

“Liar,” you got out, and he pursed his lips. You knew him irritatingly well. “You are keeping things from me.”

“It is not keeping things from you,” he countered, frustration rising in his voice. “It is…protecting you from those…things.”

“Tell me what those things are, Joshua,” you demanded, quietly but not softly. “It has rattled you enough. That has never happened to you.”

But he was silent. Eerily quiet, merely the rustle of his clothes, the soft thunk of his novella settled back with the French novels which raised your suspicions. A boundary made—a rejection established.

Perhaps you would have respected it in another lifetime—in a world where you had not indulged your curiosity, set your eyes upon entities which were not for you to explore. Perhaps you would have respected it even if Joshua had offered to enlighten you—maybe blushed and ran away, and vowed never to look through his possessions again.

The writings had rattled you, though, more than he realised. Social etiquette—good common sense would have expected you to respect his opinion, opinions of society, and drop the subject.

Joshua Hong, however, was your greatest friend. No societal expectation could change that.

So you opted to push the limits. Refuse the silence to be the end of this matter.

“I read enough, you know. To feel…” A pause. “I cannot even describe to you how I felt, because I have never felt that way before.” You tried to find the right words, a single confession out of order and he would stop listening—or so you thought. “There was an extract you wrote, Joshua, which had certain…descriptions…” Burning. Pleasure. Naked. Fire. Ecstasy. “There was a girl who was doing something. I am unsure what she was doing specifically, but…what she felt watching them…”

A soft exhale released from you, and almost instinctively Joshua released his own breath. “I think I…um, I think I felt a remnant of it.”

He blurted out, barely a whisper, “You what?”

You looked at him—barely managed a nod. “I do not…don’t even know what she was doing with her fingers—” Joshua’s sudden coughing interrupted you, holding a fist to his lips to stop himself—“But whatever it was…I want to know what it was.”

You watched the man stay deathly still, yet the emotions racing behind his face were certain. Not only were you rattled, but had passed this strange sensation to him. Had he never felt it before? You wondered, surprised by the similarity of his reaction to yours.

He then responded to you, and you realised your mistake. “You cannot.”

Another boundary. Another opportunity to cross it. “Why?” This time, you stepped closer to him. “Why can I not know?” He was silent once more, and this time, you would not accept it. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“Because you are a lady!” he finally cut out, an agitated sigh coming straight after. “You are not to know such…such material.”

A lady…that you were aware of, but that still did not answer the question. Joshua watched, Joshua did whatever he had done to a lady. The answer was not good enough.

Judging by the increasing agitation in your friend’s countenance, he knew it too. It was at that point, though, when you truly noticed his harsh sighs, the tight fists—one at his mouth now trudging to the table, and the other secured at his hip—figure rigid. How affected he was by your questioning.

As if he mirrored the same sensations as you experienced.

“Is it…” You pursed your lips. “Is it because you were feeling them too?”

A blink back—the only recognition of shock. You held onto this, continuing, “Tell me the truth, Joshua. You said yourself, no? That a lady cannot know, but you did not say a gentleman cannot either. You were feeling it too, were you not?”

His eyes were widening with your every word, and he stepped back, almost as if to run away. You did not need an answer from him now—it was abundantly clear that he had undergone such passions, as if it was not certain as you read it. There was only one question left in your arsenal now.

Joshua could have collapsed to the study floor. He heard the questions, and suddenly all he could do was gape at you. The determined curiosity in your eyes, the resolute stature of your body, closer than he last remembered. Oh, he would die before answering such a thing to you. He could not. He could not.

“_____, it is late,” he began after a long time. The slight hope on your face leaving instinctively dampened his spirits. “It is already rash that you came here without a chaperone and I refuse to let you become the centre of ill conversation.”

And there it was. The supposed end.

You did not realise how disappointed you were until you found your voice again, much graver than you expected. “So that is how it will be.”

Fine. If your best friend would not entrust you with such information, you would find the next person who would not be so apprehensive. A fortunate situation that you already had a man in mind.

As you turned on your heel, you heard him ask, “Where are you going?”

You did not stop your walk away, looking over your shoulder as you retorted, “To Soonyoung. At least he will be honest with me, if you choose not to be.”

He must have said something, but you did not deign to hear, only looking to the door, which was slightly ajar. You held your hand out, ready to open it further.

Another force—another hand, larger than yours, slammed the door shut, jumping you out of your skin. Quickly you swivelled to see Joshua, breathing slightly uneven as his hand stayed right beside your head, resting against the wood. “Good God,” you got out, “What was that for?”

“You cannot go to Soonyoung,” he said instead, gaze frantic.

You furrowed your brows. “Why?”

He frowned. He could tell from your irritation that you assumed it was jealousy, a worse morphing of cowardice.

It was not jealousy—nothing like that. Soonyoung was like a brother to him, and he knew that if there was anyone else you could have gone to without eliciting scandal, then it was that eccentric. He would explain everything to his friend, and be done with it without furthering his own curiosity.

With that in mind, he would also tell you everything. Joshua was aware that there were skeletons in the closet of such matters, and your door was already slightly ajar. Should you go to Soonyoung to seek counsel, he would break down the doors, and suffocate you with the bones of such sensitive information.

What you asked was no normal feat. What you asked was sensitive. Precious. Soonyoung was trustworthy, but he was not careful.

Joshua, on the other hand, was careful. Very careful, if he thought so himself.

“He would not…explain it properly,” he offered instead.

“At least he will explain it,” you countered, twisting your mouth. “I’d rather something than nothing at all.”

His brows knitted together, desperation rising. “You have to understand me, _____.”

“Not after this.” You tried to avert his gaze, but his eyes—for the very first time—were incredibly hard to ignore. “Let me out the door.”

His reply, although perturbed, was clear. “I cannot.”

“Then tell me, Joshua,” you demanded. “Tell me what she was doing.”

He should have stayed silent forever. What he should have done—as a gentleman, as you yourself had deemed him—was keep his mouth shut.

A semblance of his sanity slipped once he uttered the fated words.

“She was touching herself.”

A stillness washed over you. Touching herself.

“I know the passage you speak of,” he said, and his voice was something foreign, not from his body. “When I… and…yes, she touches herself.”

It was as if your skin caught fire. “Why did she do it?”

He looked at you as if you were a madman—he himself seemed as such. It was the madness which made him continue. “Because it gave her pleasure…” Pleasure. “She wanted to feel good…give the narrator…well, me…a show.” He could not help, instinctively hanging his head down to your dress, the creases where your legs had scrunched a little together from weighing against the door. “And it was between her legs where she felt it the most.”

Every word that left Joshua’s lips brought a tinkling of delight beneath your skin—this time, with their mere mention, your thighs bunched together, eliciting the same sensation that you had felt when reading that fated account.

Because he was so close to you, he, too, felt your slight shift. As if he, too, realised the change you endured. “Can you feel it?” he whispered to you.

You could not answer him—a nod sufficed. He shook his head slowly. “This is why I did not want to say anything…look at you.” He regarded you, in your slowly squirming glory, looking up at him in such sensational confusion his patience wore thin. Patience for what, though, he dared not say aloud.

“What is this?” you asked him, almost pleading. “What am I feeling?”

“Pleasure,” he finally answered, plain as the night that now fell over the Kwon townhouse. “And it can develop, swell into a greater feeling…” He watched you gulp at his explanation, and something wicked in him forced a quirk of his lips. “It starts down there…grows from there, travels around your body until it engulfs you…”

You could not breathe. His words were like those of a siren, intoxicating your very senses. It was so unfair—the girl in the journal was actually doing something to herself. You were being undone by mere explanation.

Your friend caught onto this realisation too, for he watched you, drank in your breaths, turning heavier with each comment. “And there is a height you will reach when you keep touching yourself, and…” Without realising, he wetted his bottom lip, and you gaped at the action, brows rising, eyes glazing over. “You run after it like a prize, should not stop…”

“Why?” you got out—or did you really? Your consciousness was a blur.

“Because, angel, when you are at the end, there is a sensation you will feel, unlike…ah, unlike anything you have ever experienced.” His free hand joined the other side of your head, and you were caged in his presence. Strange, how you had never noticed how overwhelming his stature became when you could barely recognise your own body.

Very carefully he lowered his head to you, mouth against your ear. “Like the critical ecstasy, into which nature spent…with excess of pleasure, dissolved and died away.”

Your breath hitched at the recitation. The man was quoting his own words.

This had to stop. You had to stop.

The curiosity remained, as tangible as the very feeling—the critical ecstasy.

Whatever Joshua had described to you, you wanted it. Needed it. Perhaps he was teasing you, as he always did, but the weight of the words hung upon you both like chandeliers, the candle lights like prickles of these ever-encompassing emotions that threatened to take over.

“Joshua,” you said in a low voice.

He pulled away from you to ask you what you wished for. Then, he truly observed you, took in the connotations of your calling. Your pleading. He had a fear he did not need to ask anymore—he knew you too well.

It was cruel of him. He felt it in his bones, but he knew that he had crossed too many boundaries. One more transgression, and everything would be done for.

If only you would stop looking at him like that.

“I want to feel it,” you uttered, barely voiced out. “Whatever she was feeling…show me.”

There it was—your life in his hands.

There was a power to this. A man’s life consisted of many different forms of power—his birth, his titles, his estates, even the people that worked upon them. Joshua recognised his power, knew he was privileged enough to wield such influence within the ton to be written about it.

This, however, was unchartered territory.

Not that he had not delved within women before. No, he was familiar with the workings of ladies in this circle, even from those beyond the borders of this country. How many nights he had spent, being destroyed and renewed in a decrepit lodging with forgotten souls from a different time. Joshua’s skin prickled at the memories, but nothing could have brought more stinging sensations than the words that escaped your mouth.

Tonight, in this grand study of his, courtesy of his so-called power, he was utterly void of it. He was powerless. He could not. He should not.

This was to be the final answer. That was when you added the fatal addition.

Did not even stray from his helpless gaze as you muttered, as quiet as the air around you, “Please.”

Please. Joshua took a mere moment to part his lips, the damned please washing over his entire body before he leaned in, weight of the world in his hanging head.

He thought of nothing else before brushing his lips against yours.

The flutter of a touch upon your lips was a consequence—in seconds, you were not your own, not in control of your body, when your mouth reacted without you even realising. He was moving slowly, feeling you out. Soft were his lips, but you should have known that detail already. Had you not observed them in the chandelier light, almost burned at how they shone like diamonds?

How fortunate you were then, to have these diamonds enveloped around your mouth, accepting them, moving against his own. He was warm upon you, almost burning up, undoubtedly from the inward crisis you observed moments prior, when he nearly let you down. You sensed his approval this time, his one hand leaving the door and gently cradling your chin, angling it to deepen the kiss. Such a small action enhanced your delight, almost smiling against him. Your heartbeat was straying from your chest, thumping so loud in your ears it was all you could hear—the beating of your heart, and the cushioned sounds of his lips.

He was everywhere. In your arms, in your mind, haunting your spirits as he slowly, ever so slowly, opened your mouth. A soft grunt finally escaped him, a sound he had buried deep within. The man himself had no realisation that he was holding such a sound in, perhaps terrified that he was enjoying himself, relishing how your lips were velvet, and his mouth sailed in the direction of your pleasure.

The idea that you had brought such a sound out of him had your hands attempting to reach his shoulders, slithering up his arms and reaching their destination, hanging tightly on. Your lungs demanded refreshment, chest aching, but you refused to pull away, not when Joshua kissed you in such a manner. Where had you been hiding? How could you have lived in such ignorance, when Joshua offered ecstasy, provided pleasure, sipped you the holy grail of human instinct?

You wondered half-deliriously why the ladies in his journal had not been kissed often, when this was a feeling more overwhelming than any of the pages you had skimmed over. Perhaps your dear friend had consumed some addictive substance, left the remnants on his mouth before showing you what he feared. You could not get enough of him, chasing his lips, following after his lead like an obedient animal, so careful not to break the dance of rapture and have him regret it.

If only you could sneak a glance inside his mind.

Every thought in his head screamed at him to slow down. Your lips were a delicate flower, in need of a sprinkle of water for sustenance, not the entire monsoon to drown it dead. Joshua knew this, was ardently aware of it, but he could not stop himself, cease this dance with you and give you peace. Peace was not an option, not when you were languid under his hold, obliging him so well. His hands were now upon your face, cradling it as he pushed you further against the door, creaking under the pressure.

You broke from his lips at the pressure, sucking in a breath, but he was not satisfied, pouncing upon you once more. He captured your mouth and swept away any form of speech, stealing your words and engulfing them for himself. His tongue was sliding against the seam of your lip, an invitation for more, and you wanted it. You were opening your mouth further, and he slid inside so effortlessly it had you unable to stop the groan, escaping you without realising. It was child’s play for him, finding your own and swirling it along yours like a waltz on the dance floor, a quadrille he had practised in midnight corners, and mastered without your knowledge.

Here he was, though, carrying out the final mastery with you. Closing his lips over yours slightly, sucking on your tongue, and your lungs were expanding, heart swelling, every single organ functioning inside threatening to break down. Whining like a famished soul, your hands now clung to his face, fingers grazing his neck, and he furrowed his brows into the open-mouthed kisses, adding a pressure to his sucking which sent your very senses into overdrive.

You thought you could do it—you genuinely believed you could have done more, perhaps begged through hungry eyes and sharp sighs to continue this dance, show you all the tricks you managed to miss.

But then he pulled away from you, detaching his mouth from yours, hands clutching you against the door as he groaned, closing his eyes. You were panting yourself, fingers curling as they fell to his shoulders, gaping at his slack figure, rising up and down with his heavy breaths.

He met your gaze, the heavy-lidded desire churning in your irises. You were still aflame, burning beneath every touch he ghosted on your skin—the absolute want reverating off the door he backed you against. It was insanity, truly, what his antics had done to you.

His best friend—a blubbering, panting mess before him. He did this.

It was then, after you engulfed the world’s oxygen and finally gained some semblance of sense, that you noticed the frantic nature of his stare.

You could barely speak, an effort as you got out, “Joshua?”

His name on your mouth. He could not help the step away, pulling away his hands, although they ached. He was backing away some more, widening his eyes, and you did not understand till he brought his fingers to his lips, spit-slick with consequences. Consequences that he brought onto you.

You reflected his actions, feeling the wet slick of your bottom lip. You wanted to feel guilty—your stomach was only set aflame once more.

“I…we…” he stopped, a hand sifting through his locks, eyes darting everywhere. “We shouldn’t have, we…”

“Joshua,” you began, because you finally found your voice—or at least some form of it. “Wait, we can—”

“You must go,” he said instead. “No, I must go, I must…must leave…” The back of his legs bumped into the table, the very desk which the damned novels were scattered across.

You watched his slow ruination. “You cannot leave. Soonyoung did this soirée for you.”

“Huh? Right, yes.” His head dipped down, raking through his hair as if he would find a solution within. “Shit. Shit.”

Almost frightened, you walked over slowly to him, attempting to reach out. “Joshua, why are you—?”

“_____, listen to me.” His finger pointed to you—the door you were sagging against, moments prior. “You must go this instance. If someone found us like this, it could…” a ragged sigh. “No, I cannot go into it now, I…I know this sounds suspicious, sudden, I understand but…”

You could have taken his word, but he was frantic, and your best friend was never frantic. “Did I do something?”

The question had his spirits dampening even further. “No, no, of course not. I did.”

And then he was walking towards you—stepping past you when you thought he was going to something, something you were not certain of, but scared could have happened. “I shall call you a carriage,” he declared, more to himself than the person he was supposed to carry this out for. “You slip out after I am downstairs.”

He was about to leave the study, but he was stopped—he glanced at your hand, wrapping around his forearm. His gaze climbed upwards to settle on your face, still exposing uncertainty at his change. “Joshua.”

Joshua. His name on your lips once more. He could only ask you one question. “Do you trust me, _____?”

You looked back at him, your grip tightening. What the two of you had done was beyond your understanding. No novel could have articulated your feelings just then, expressed the turmoil that reigned inside you. You had experienced your first kiss, a little more with a man you thought was beyond your fingertips, and now he wished to run away from it all.

What you should have done was hold on—but you trusted him. He was, after everything, your dearest friend.

A nod sufficed, enough for him. When you loosened your grip, he stayed for a beat longer, drinking in the trust you promised you held, washing it over his own frenzy before he offered you a smile.

He slipped away from the study, and everything that occurred within it.

You could not close the door fast enough, swivelling around and sagging against the wood. Feeling your legs buckle, you let yourself slump to your feet, your gown bunching around you, cushioning your fall. He left, but your heart still thundered. Battering against your ribcage, begging to be set free and end the madness that stirred, because you still had no idea, no conception of what had just happened, and what could have happened.

Whatever questions bombarded your soul, only one remained the most prevalent.

What in God’s name just happened?

JOSHUA HAD BEEN AVOIDING YOU SINCE THAT FATED INCIDENT.

Countless times you had called upon him, only to be met with no reply. You had first assumed he was occupied with settling business, considering he had arrived recently into town, but after a week of continued silence, your concern had overshadowed logic. You were determined to search him out.

He had never given you silence—even when he was journeying across the Continent, he updated you through his detailed letters, pinpointing every city he had stayed a night in, every important figure he had dined with, Hell, even confided his moments of embarrassment. It was not like him to keep himself from you. It was not in his nature to run away from you.

What he had done was an act of cowardice—and Joshua Hong was not a coward.

No, he was not one of the faint-hearted, especially in the beginning of what happened in that study. He was not in a coward when he indulged your curiosity, not when he was gifted you a kiss—kisses like that. If Joshua Hong was a coward, then the entirety of the ton deserved humiliation for its timidity.

You decided to damn a little societal etiquette, informing your maid that she was to accompany you, not bothering to pass this information onto your parents. Not that it mattered much, since your mother was entertaining a few of her friends, and your father was not in the city anyway.

Down the familiar roads you hurried, your poor chaperone urging you to slow down as you narrowly avoided the rush of the carriages, spooked horses neighing as you crossed the road. You lifted your skirts up to keep the hem clean of the wet gunge of concrete, mud and puddles of rain mingling on the cobblestone streets. The terraced houses of Mayfair were recognisable anywhere, and because you were fortunate enough to live close to your dear friend, the trip lasted a little more than five minutes. As you tread the steps up to the Hong bachelor lodgings, though, you caught the notion that perhaps Joshua may have resided in the Diamond Club lodgings. Then your nervousness returned, rising when the grand doors opened, and the butler answered.

“Is his Lordship present?” you asked, and nearly sighed with relief when the man nodded, leading you inside. “Don’t mind me, I know my way.” You turned to your maid, raising a hand before her. “You stay here. I will be back soon.”

You did not wait for her objections as you sped into the halls of the house, ignoring the European finery on the walls, turning your right where your ears caught familiar voices, conversing in whispers in the drawing room. Hearing a particular hushed tone had your nervousness replaced with a newfound agitation.

Now the convention was to announce the guest to the people already present in the house. Because there was no servant you allowed to follow you, you sauntered into the room, stopping before the doorway.

There he was. Joshua, as akin to a perfect gentleman as he always presented himself, clad in white and cream-coloured clothing. His one leg folded over the other as he looked to Soonyoung, who was contrasting his palette, adorning browns and blacks as he sipped on his beverage. The two men turned their heads at the interruption, and both widened their eyes.

One was most excited, grinning at your appearance. The other—the one you sought out—shot up from his seat, as if struck by lightning.

“Gentlemen,” you greeted, icy enough that Soonyoung scrunched his nose at it, instantly setting his teacup upon the side table.

“Did someone tie your corset too tight this morning?” was his response. He then glanced at his friend. “Why are you standing up all of a sudden?”

His question was not answered. Joshua was too occupied with staring at you, not quite believing your presence—at his bachelor lodgings, of all places.

You could only stare back. You meant to be more cold in your gaze, but the moment your eyes locked, it was as if the memories had come back. If your thoughts felt bold in your environment, then they ran wild in unfamiliar territory. Memories of that night came rushing like a burst dam, each little flash of the pages, the heated words, Joshua’s lips, burning into your mind.

A rushed exhale escaped your lips. Your friend’s eyes darted to see that ragged breath escape you. That gaze on your mouth had threatened to stop your breathing entirely.

You wished he would stop looking at you.

Soonyoung interrupted the heavy silence with a click of his tongue. “What is wrong with the both of you?”

It was almost comical how you and Joshua flinched simultaneously at his question. “Nothing,” he answered, still staring at you. “To what do I owe this…” He licked his lips, as if remembering the significance of the word. “This pleasure?”

Pleasure. Your heart skipped a beat. “You, um…” A momentary glance at Soonyoung, who watched you both like a hawk. “I was just, um…just down the street, actually. Around the corner.”

“Oh.” Joshua nodded most diligently, as if you had shared invaluable information to him. “How…fascinating.”

“Indeed.”

The third party gaped at you two in horror. “Are you both hearing yourself?” he asked, aghast at the interaction. “It is as if observing a couple courting each other for the first time.”

That very idea had your cheeks burning. “Stop saying such stupid things,” you snapped at the poor man. “Joshua and I would not possibly be courting!”

The over-exaggeration of such a claim had Soonyoung raising a brow. “And why is that so impossible for you to imagine?”

“Because!” you exclaimed, and you made the mistake of glancing at the man accused. “Because…”

Joshua had the nerve to tilt his head, waiting. “Because?”

Scoffing out, you tried to answer him with anything. Anything to fight off the butterflies in your stomach. “Because you are my friend. Friends do not court and become…more than…”

“Friends?” he offered, watching you intently. He had schooled his face into neutrality before, but you were certain of his interest now, the way he quirked his brow, his hand resting on the top of the chair.

Because you were lost for words, you merely nodded. His stare a little too much, you looked away, catching Soonyoung’s confusion enhanced. He finished his tea, rising from his ornate seating as he set his judgement upon you two. “I do not know why you both are acting so ridiculously,” he declared, dusting his hands together, “But you need to sort it out amongst yourselves. Your silences have a…” He made a peculiar face. “An unnerving energy.”

Nodding his head to Joshua, he made his way over to you, clutching your hand in adieu. “Do not think I won’t interrogate you on this,” he whispered to you, and left the room before you could react.

Not that any of his threats would have mattered, when he was not there anymore. The only barrier, completely disappeared. It was only you and Joshua—alone.

The very notion had your gaze flickering towards him. He was already looking, a certain helplessness in his usually easy manner that had you forgetting why you stormed in here in the first place—almost.

“_____.”

Damn him. His name on your lips made you remember how he pleaded it that very night. “Joshua,” you responded, in the very same manner so he could not forget that night either.

It seemed as if he did not. “I meant to call on you,” he began, but your scoff cut him off.

“You have ignored me instead,” you remarked, because you refused to let him slip away. “I wrote to you countless times.”

“I know,” he said, nodding to acknowledge his mistake. “I meant to respond, truly, but…I admit, I have been preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied?” You narrowed your eyes at him, unimpressed. “What urgent matters stopped you from responding to a few letters? My letters?”

He was in a stupor, as if secluding into his own mind. You thought he was not going to answer, but then the words slipped out. “Thinking, actually. I was doing a lot of thinking.” When he saw that was not good enough for you, he sighed, a large, heavy exhale that held a few reservations—regrets. “You will laugh at me for it, _____, but this thinking was for you. I was thinking for you.” A pause. “I was thinking of you.”

You did not move. Joshua was thinking of you; this would not have been so extraordinary a week prior, but now it meant something entirely different.

His words in the study crept into the crevices of your mind, and you fought to keep your face straight. “And what did you find in your thoughts for me?”

He locked his hands behind his back. “Those things we did, back in my study…” He cleared his throat, as if the next words were an effort to bring to the surface. “They should not have been done. I should not have done them to you.”

A blink. “What?” you got out, confusion joining your disarray of emotions.

“It was dishonourable, what I did,” he continued. “You were unaware, and I should have left it like that. I mean, even the letters you sent, you were frantic. It was my doing, was it not?” You could not believe what he uttered from that very mouth you kissed not so long ago, more so when he said the next words. “For that, I must apologise.”

An apology. Your dearest friend showed you sacred knowledge, satisfaction to an unknown temptation, treasure of the highest order, and he was sorry for it.

It was enough to enrage you.

“Why in God’s name are you apologising?” you demanded, thundering towards him. “Why are you taking all the blame like a foolish martyr?” The man made to reason with you, but you refused to let him speak, carrying on in your agitation. “Was it not I who asked you? Was it not I who asked you what those feelings were, begged you to show me what it felt like?”

You made sure he was looking at you as you faced him, grave and earnest. “It was my fault. I was the one curious. I should apologise.”

He clenched his jaw then. What had you done to be giving him apologies? It tore at the seams of his heart, like he was aware of a crime he had committed, but watched another suffer the punishment.

No, to hell with that—what crime had the two of you committed?

The reminder of such crimes came rushing through his mind, encircling his brain like an infectious disease, threatening to engulf him whole. The reminders, made from your lips, which moulded so perfectly with his that he exhaled a little at the notion, your heightened whispers in the darkness of his study. He had not stepped foot in that damned room since that night—a ridiculous approach, he was quite aware—but every time he attempted it, fingers at the handle, he would hear its creaks from your weight, pressed up against the wood by his hands. If objects could speak, then they would shame the men and women that used them for their passions.

But you were his friend, and nothing you had done with him was worth shaming over. In truth, it was just a kiss.

“Joshua?”

Receiving only a blink back had you narrowing your eyes at him. “You have nothing to say after that?”

He clamped his lips together, thinking for a moment. “_____, I need you to never apologise to me again.”

You ticked your head, puzzled. “But—”

“No, I am serious. You were merely curious. And I…” He sighed. “Well, I suppose I satiated it.”

Or rather, he hoped he did. Judging by your changing expression, those hopes seemed to falter. “Or did I not…?”

“N-no!” you rebuked, but then you closed your mouth, setting it in a thin line. “I mean, I still have questions.”

The man paused. “Oh.”

Of course. Of bloody course you had questions, because of course it cannot be one encounter in a darkened room, and then a forgotten memory. God, why was it you, of all the people he knew, in that study?

His thoughts were exposed upon his face, causing you to raise your hands. “No, no, if it is troublesome, then I will not bother you. I would have inquired with Soonyoung, but…”

Their mutual friend being brought up had Joshua’s collar feeling too tight. “Why would you go to him when you asked me?”

You sighed then, a little helpless. “Because you have a problem with telling me.”

He would have argued otherwise, but you were right, and it was eating him from the inside. He wanted to be nonchalant about it, completely incurious. You were his most cherished companion, though, and so nonchalance was non-existent. It was impossible, in this situation, to be normal.

You crossed your arms, looking to the ornate side-table where Soonyoung left his half-empty tea. “I suppose I can…find out on my own?”

A furrow of his groomed brows. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You clearly do not want me sharing this…dilemma with anyone, and since you are as useful as Soonyoung when drunk, I have no other choice.”

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head slightly, not quite believing the words that came from his mouth. “I mean…how will you find out?”

“Well, I am unsure, but have I not always figured it out?” You gripped onto your arms tighter. “This time, though, it seems I will not have you to help me.”

He would have let the comment slide had you not uttered your next admission.

“It is as if…you shy away from it as if you did not enjoy what happened that night.”

Oh. My God.

Joshua’s change of character was shocking—exhilarating, you realised with a start, as his eyes darkened. “What did you say to me?”

Your mouth was parted, answer always ready. “Is it not true? You ignored me, hid away from me, and refused to help me further. All the tell-tale signs that you hated what happened?”

Hated. The man could have combusted at such an accusation.

Hatred was only the emotion he felt towards himself, a punishment for the emotions you incited out of him that night. To hate what happened between you and him, though…That would be like animals hating the nature that fed them. To hate what he did to you, what he showed you, would be akin to a scholar hating knowledge.

Joshua was no scholar, though, and he had no great knowledge. But the knowledge you sought, from him, of all humble learners…he reckoned he was being rewarded for a good deed, long forgotten.

By God, he will savour whatever reward he was offered.

“Listen to me, _____. I have thought about our kiss for every waking moment since it happened.”

He took a step forward. “I did not want to, because we are friends…but alas, it is the truth. I was not going to tell you…if it makes me immature, or selfish, I do not know, but to hear you think that I—”

A scoff escaped him, and you felt the rush of air on your lips. “I cannot have that. I cannot let you think I despised something I—I enjoyed.”

Your question was quick—unintentional. “Enjoyed?”

He did not even need to answer you—you could see it in his gaze. “If I told you the extent of my enjoyment, you would think me a monster.”

What that statement should have done was unnerve you. There was only a strange thrill, humming beneath your skin. “Then do not tell me. Show me.”

Joshua’s brows quirked upward, as if disbelieving this newfound curiosity in you. He glanced at the entrance—no servants in sight. “Do you believe you could withstand it?”

“A few heated kisses?” you tilted your head, gaze falling to his mouth. “I shall be fine this time.”

But he was shaking his head, twisting his lips in a smile you had never noticed before. “No…no, dearest, what I will show you today will be something different.”

He held his hand out—the proposition offered. “If you are still seeking my help, of course.”

You stared at his hand, the soft palm, the fingers which had enclasped yours countless times in the years between you both. This was a hand you had held onto more than any other. This time, though, there would be a change. You could feel it in the air, the space—or lack, thereof—around you two. Clasping the hand now would cement this change.

Would you want that? Shift the dimensions of your friendship forever?

Perhaps you should have pondered over it more; truly endeavoured through the implications, but you could hear his heated whispers once more, urging you to accept. His voice. Your best friend was silent, but his voice was everywhere.

This was already changed—there was no going back.

You brought your hand out, grasping onto his own and shaking it. You did not let go, though, because you felt his purpose thrumming in his fingers as, with a tug, he set off, taking you with him.

Through the halls you strolled, Joshua letting a few servants know that he was not to be disturbed. With anyone else, the people would have raised a few eyebrows, because what does their master wish to do with a lady unchaperoned? It was a topic which could incite a great scandal, but, once again, your friendship saved you and him. You wondered, heart beating a little faster, how many times you would escape such treachery on the grounds of your bond with the man that led you up his grand staircase, further into the cushioned halls, into unchartered territory.

He brought you inside his private study, closing the door behind you. This room was different—granted, that specific study was in Soonyoung’s domain, a space reserved for his friend, but not many people had ventured here. Not that you knew of.

Joshua took a deep breath. “Before we do anything,” he began, “I must set a few rules.”

“Rules?” you repeated, furrowing your brow. “Whatever for?”

He set himself on a little pace, walking to the end of the room. As he turned, returning to the place he first entered, he said, “You see, there are certain…ministrations…we are about to do which may not be welcomed.” He paused again, as if mulling over the words. “There was a reason I asked you not to confide in Soonyoung. You see, it is not just him. We cannot tell anyone of this.”

In fairness, you had already assumed you could not speak of your heated kiss with a single soul. Although in your heart, it was the truest action you had carried out, you wondered whether the ton would agree with you—how Lady Whistledown would chastise your name for it.

“I understand,” you said.

He looked at you, a little relieved. “Good.” He dipped his head, locks hanging. “Very…very good.” The pacing was back. “As you are aware, we did less than what you read. You asked me what…what the girl was doing.”

There it was again—the stillness of your heart, your soul. “Yes…and you said she was touching herself.”

His movements hit a lapse—only for a moment. “Right.” He resumed once more. “Do you have any questions regarding that?

You could not understand how he was even able to move, when you were rendered frozen. “I do not want explanations, Joshua.”

Finally, finally he stopped, full focus on you, hands locked behind his back. Still, all this restraint. “Then what do you want?”

What do you want? Even you could not comprehend the extent of it. You wanted to feel as the girl did in the novel—you wanted to experience the critical ecstasy, the full extent of the pleasure described. You wanted to do the things she had committed, hidden away or for everyone to witness. You did not care how it happened, but you wanted it done to you.

It was as if your dearest friend could see it on your face—painted explicitly on your features, curiosity staining the ignorance.

“Go on. I want you to say it.”

You tugged your bottom lip with your teeth, suddenly flustered. “You cannot expect me to say it all!”

One step forward. “Whyever not?”

Your cheeks burned. “It feels…” You rubbed your hands on your dress, needing to do something because this was becoming awkward, tensioned. It was already unbearable, his magnetic presence, suddenly too large for you in this study. Damned studies. “It feels so…dirty.”

“Dirty?” He tilted his head. “How come it feels that way?”

A purse of your lips. “You know my reasoning.”

Of course he knew. He read your every verse of nervousness, etched into your eyes like agonised poetry. He had hoped—would have prayed, even, that your hesitance would have faded behind closed doors. Would have faded with only him in the room.

He said so. “You do not have to be so…you know…modest around me.” He took a careful step—always so careful around you, this man. “I am aware that this is new, but you know you can place your confidence in me.”

And now you knew, because out of every ambiguity in this dreadful city, the man before you was the sole certain aspect within. Of course you could trust him. You, however, could not trust your mouth to work. So, you were silent—twiddling your thumbs like a fool, a deer caught by the hunter, and frozen still to accept its fate.

Except Joshua would never allow you to accept that, so he took hold of the reins. “Look, I will not push you to do anything…that you can be certain of.” He walked over to you, finally in front of you, and you looked up at him, taking in the earnestness of his expression. “But I will request something from you, a question I always ask.”

His hand reached out to clasp your wrist, raising it to his waist-coated chest. Even with the layers, you could almost feel his distant beating of his heart—evenly thudding beneath his luxurious clothing. How fortunate, that he was capable of such serenity, when you were made of heightened nerves at that moment.

“Do you trust me, angel?”

Oh, you were envious of his ease. You fought with yourself to uphold his stare. “Of course.”

He tightened his hold on your hand. “Good,” he said, and when his mouth closed, skimming his gaze over your face, you could have looked away. Where was your ferocity, so ardent then now disappearing completely under his scrutiny?

Joshua could see it—the pinnacle of virtue, a beacon of ignorance. It was enough for him to expose a mere phantom smile at the thought as, you bracing yourself, he leaned in, brushing his lips with yours.

It was like that fateful night all over again. You could not have accepted him fast enough, your enthusiasm clear as your other hand slid upwards, fingers anchoring themselves to his face, his skin soft, his skin warm, warmer the longer you held on. Your figure moulded against his own as he snaked his hand around your waist, pulling you in closer to him, every crevice of your body lined perfectly alongside himself. Perfect—that was what this all was to you, the excitement of his mouth moving upon yours, the sensation of his hand skirting along your back, the feeling of his heartbeat rising with every lingering moment. You could have smiled at that.

Wanted to, but he was opening your mouth, and his tongue was already sliding along your lips, a request to venture inside, welcome itself back into familiar territory. You were accepting his touches like a woman starved, his tongue replenishing the famished domain of your mouth. Your desperation seeped through the seams—you had not forgotten the sensations he evoked the week before, but the experience had amplified your stained curiosity.

Now that you were offered a taste, a mere sliver was not enough. You wanted more.

Joshua could sense everything. He was not a mind reader of any sorts, but it was his fortune that he understood you in every aspect. The soft noises that slipped from your mouth at every turn of his tongue against yours, his hand freeing your wrist and gripping your face…the urgency shocked and delighted you at the same time.

He thought he was fine, a picture of tranquility—he had done this enough times to envisage it in his mind. By God, he would be questioned for these sins, every night of immorality pocketed in each corner of the continent.

You, however…when it was you, it was different. With you, it was another semblance of pride, more than a mere achievement to mark in his memories. He broke away from your mouth for a second, an inch away from you as he collected his breath—an inch too far. “Tell me…tell me how you feel,” he whispered, ringing in your ears like a fevered revelation.

You wished to answer him. Truly you attempted, but he made it so hard, turning his attention to the corners of your lips, peppering heated little kisses, bursts of feverish pleasure setting your skin aflame. How many fires did he intend to light? How many flames did he wish to spread along the goosebumps on your skin, until you were ashes in his hands, swept away by his mouth? He would never answer such questions, though, when he occupied himself with sprinkling your neck with the remnants of his lips.

Even uttering his name was a challenge. “J-Joshua, I…” your heavy exhales took over, your very body led solely by his charge. The supposed leader, the benevolent leader, allowed you a break of speech by robbing you of it completely, pressing his lips over yours and chasing after you once more.

What was it that the woman felt in his journal? You scrambled at your lust-filled mind to remember the feeling as you read the pages, all those nights ago. Yes, you wanted to feel the indescribable high, the pleasure reverating off your skin like humidity off cobblestone streets in the summer.

“I-I want to feel like her…” you strived for specificity, anything which made sense in this bubble of bliss. “To feel good, the ecstasy…”

“Hmm…” he could only say, latching onto a particular spot on your neck which had you seeing stars upon the study ceiling. They rotated, following after your movements with every tug backward by his hands. You did not know where he was taking you, but when your shins felt the bump of the couch, situated at the back of the room, you sucked in a breath at the impact.

You did not realise what was about to happen until you felt his gentle hands push you into the plush setting, and your breath whooshed out of you as your head fell on the pillows, cushioning your slight fall. Instinctively your hands flew to grasp at the lapels of his waistcoat, the grip making him pause.

“W-wait, Joshua, a moment,” you got out. Watching him blink back at your voice, utterly lost in his lovebitten creations, had you regretting you stopped him. “Why are we…”

He watched you sputter for words, the gleam in his eyes only darkening as he began to position himself above you. His hand roamed down your dress, fingers catching its hem and slowly lifted it further from your legs. “Did you not want this?” he merely asked, feigning the same innocence you had genuinely exposed minutes prior. “I only follow your request.”

You wished to respond to him, but then you felt his fingers skim against your thighs, your dress bunched to the waist, and gasped at the exposed skin, just above where your stockings ended. “Oh…”

“You must tell me, angel,” he said, his other hand resting behind your head, his body tilting on his side, resting next to you. His fingers roamed dangerous territory. “I cannot know what you want if you are silent.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you parted your mouth, sighs turning heavier the closer he crept to the centre. “Yes…yes, this is what I want…” Your skin tingled with every ghost of a touch, the butterfly brush of his fingers.

“Good…excellent.” His fingers stretched out, tugging your legs open to provide a little space, exposing your cunt before him. He made to speak, but catching the sight of something so private—so intimate—had his brain shutting down, sinking into the depths of his own sensations.

His reaction to seeing you so exposed had you biting your lip. “Joshua?” you got out, a meagre attempt to catch his attention.

Another beat and he blinked back, staring at you. “Forgive me,” he mumbled, taking one of your hands which clung to his waistcoat. “I am…ah, it is very hard to be…” he stopped himself, thumb stroking the back of your hand. “You said you wanted me to show you, yes?”

When you hurriedly nodded, he brought your hand, which he clutched still; slowly, he guided it to the apex of your thighs, stopping just before the final destination. He heard the bated breaths sputtering out of your mouth, and he snuck a glance at you, the heavy-lidded lust and nervousness, mixing rather unfortunately together.

“_____,” he said, catching your attention. “It’ll be wonderful. I promise.”

It was simple, but enough to believe him. When you offered a small smile, he took it as reassurance, and spread his hand over the back of yours, folding your ring and pinkie over his own.

Then, with a final moment of pause, he moved past the final boundary.

It was your fingers, first, that slipped past your thighs.Your breathing hitched as they teased against your entrance, skimming slowly along your slit. He collected the arousal which pooled at the apex, mouth agape from your reaction.

By God, you were soaked for him.

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

He could sense your hastiness. The urgency to thrust your fingers inside, fully delve into the origins of pleasure you read of, but your impulse had to be soothed. Recklessness only brought disaster—which you would have learned had Joshua allowed you to read the full extent of his travels.

But that would never happen, and so he had to show you himself. “Careful,” he whispered in a low hush, his own hand restricting your hold. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

You looked up at him, wide-eyed and waiting for guidance. “Show me then.”

The request—and the sight of your slight helplessness—had his breeches tightening. “As you wish,” he rasped out, gaining control of your fingers once more. He raised them slightly higher, away from your arousal, which pooled further the longer he made you wait.

Your tight-roped patience was heavily rewarded as, when the pads of your fingers were led to your clit, a gasp flew out of you, completely unexpected.

There it was. The reaction Joshua waited for—did not realise he was anticipating.

The shuddered breathing, the frantic gaze, darting first to him, and then down to the intertwined fingers. He saw in your expression, the recognition of the feeling you experienced as you read his writing…there was a familiar understanding, and a strange thrill swept over his skin, goosebumps clear evidence of his anticipation. He swayed the tips of your digits over your clit, rubbing in a languid, lazy motion, and the sheer pleasure that radiated off an action so simple had you restraining a whine, clamping your lips together to resemble some form of sanity.

He observed your attempts to contain yourself—always the one to uphold a certain decorum, attain any modicum of decency. “You’re being shy…even now?” another circle of your fingers around your clit, and your mouth parted, gaping at him. “No one’s watching us…” his eyes darted to where his hand laboured at your core. “Just you and me.”

You knew that—you knew that fact, but it was as if he revealed some shocking information, the manner in which you reacted. Just you and me. You and him—and the madness that built between your legs.

This frenzy was only furthered by his guidance, the slow form of his hand quickening just a little, elation striking down your thighs. The soft moans, lodged within your throat before, bubbled to the surface of your mouth, and the leash of your restraint was thinning, cracking enough to let the sound escape. It was a pure, unadulterated incentive for him, your moans like the beginnings of an orchestra, a symphony no one had the privilege to listen to. “Yes, angel, just like that,” he murmured, a smirk as light as a feather ghosting his lips. “Don’t want you hiding anything.”

Your brows scrunched together, the focus drifting the more you two continued, progressing in a certain pace which had the strangest, most mysterious sensation creeping over you. You could not comprehend its origins, but the feeling blossomed within your core, encircling out around your cunt, slowly taking over your sanity.

He watched the whole scene, completely dumbfounded by the show he was offered. It was not as if he had never witnessed such a state before—you yourself had read the passages of his heated observations, the women in cities showing him scenes of lust in their domains.

You, however, were not trained in the art of chasing the thrill. You were not exposed to the sheer skill of igniting pleasure in another, had not seen the darker corners of what this city—what every city offered, but was never shown to ladies like you. Despite all that, there you were, circling the bundle of nerves, heightening the already tensioned spot all on your own, stuttering breaths fighting amongst broken groans.

It was what had his hold loosening on your own, your hand having no troubles figuring out the process. He gaped at your every move, your every attempt to follow what he had done, trying so ardently to match what he had begun. He needed pause, time to freeze upon this very moment. Had no one advanced within inventions enough to create something, anything to capture this image of panting beauty before him?

Because you were—you were a culmination of everything good, everything pure before him.

Now the man did not originally anticipate adding another prospect within this situation; seeing the raw delight staining your features—delight he had kindled upon your face—had him unable to keep full restraint.

You wanted to be shown what that feeling was. That evening, Joshua would show it to you.

So, as he watched you work your clit, he let his own fingers spiral downward, along the edges of your slit. “J-Joshua,” you got out, because his name was the sole term left on your tongue—the only comprehensible word which managed to stay in your mind.

“I know, angel,” was all he said, the pads of his digits swiping up your arousal, pooled further by your ministrations, his guidance. You seethed at the touches, his brushes against parts of you so sensitive already. “Feels good, does it not?”

You wished to answer him—truly, you did, but his finger slipped past your folds, sliding oh, so slowly inside you, and the heightened whine which he arose out of you had his mouth almost watering.

He knew why, of course—your reaction was a feast for his eyes. A banquet for his famished gaze, especially as he had not comprehended quite how hungry he became. He watched you squirm around him, more so when he bottomed out to the knuckle, he matching every furrow of your brow, every gasped part of your mouth with a satisfied scoff.

“You like it, don’t you?” he murmured, and before you could nod, he began to slide out. Your broken groan had him chuckling softly, igniting a bonfire within you. “Thought so…oh, I know you so—” his finger was at your entrance again, a second being teased as it stroked at your slit— “I know you so well.”

And in slithered the second finger along with the first, your eyes flying to catch the satisfaction glimmering upon his face. Oh, he was filling you to the brim, your walls pulsating around him, eliciting sounds you had never thought capable of making. He commenced a rhythm as he did with his first, pulling out to the tip, only to snake back in, always a little faster than the previous time.

It was an intoxication, unthinkable to a humble mind as yourself. You were at his complete disposal—as if he was a magical entity, and you were a mere follower, attending to his every order. You could not stray your crumbling stares from him, heightened whimpers brokering from your lips, and he could only watch.

And watch Joshua did—could not do anything else, staring at you as if you were an Olympus-sent goddess bestowed upon him for finishing a heavenly task. He had read such poetry before, frivolous verses of immature gods pursuing poor nymphs or celestial creatures. You, however, were of another dimension, a completely different world—if he was an immature god, he, too, would not be able to help himself, just as he could not at that moment.

So he carried on, mastering the progression he knew so well. The intensity down under was at an all-time high, your fingers, his fingers joining in some cruel alliance to bring about your undoing. “Look at you,” he rasped out, taking such delight from your trembling. “You are enjoying this, no?”

How could he have expected you to answer—you were a mess of whimpers before him. In the lust-haze of your mind, perhaps you thought he relished the show. You confirmed it when his lips were alight with a smirk. “I won’t lie to you, but—” he cut himself off, curling his fingers inside you, reaching a certain spot that sent you in a complete frenzy. “Fuck, I shouldn’t enjoy this so much.”

“Joshua,” you finally got out, chanting his name like a final prayer. “This feeling, th-this…God, I feel so—”

“I know, I know,” he murmured, never stopping his work, “it’ll only get better.”

And better it did, when, with the final slipping in and out of your cunt, the overwhelming feeling that plagued you since you collided your mouth with his took over, courtesy of his fingers.

It was uncontrollable, completely unsalvageable. That delirious, disordered cacophony buzzing within your core was finally freed as, with a harsh gush of breath, you finally let go. The leash of your patience snapped, and the release that overcame you was nothing you could have ever fathomed.

Joshua had told you that night in Soonyoung’s study, that this pinnacle moment would be unlike anything you had ever experienced. He was right.

Your friend could only admire your heightened, frenzied reaction as he slowed his fingers inside you, working through your release. When he saw your slow, laboured blinking, the shuddering breaths softening, he finally slipped out of you, observing the slick of his two fingers.

A small part of him wanted to suck the remnants of you off his skin—have a taste of the pleasure he kindled.

By God—he did this to you.

There was a long pause, the study silent save for your ragged exhales, before you fought to say something amongst your disarray of emotions. “I…What was that, Joshua?”

The said-man looked at you, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “That was what you wanted me to show you, angel.”

You could not believe it. “But I…what was that feeling…at the end?”

Oh. “That…” he first thought to be more implicit—beat around the bush of the topic. Then he realised his hand was stained from your arousal, and decided to be more honest. “That, _____, was an orgasm. You experience it when you pleasure yourself. The critical ecstasy…as I promised.”

The reference to his journal had you short-circuiting. “Do you experience them too?”

His mouth dropped open—realising he looked a fool, he cleared his throat, fighting to uphold your gaze. “Yes, well…if a lady can, then a gentleman cannot be robbed of it.”

Without thinking your eyes dropped to his trousers. “Are you robbing yourself of it now, though?”

It took every muscle in his body not to gawk at you outright. He could not tell you this truth for obvious reasons. At that moment, it was not about him, or his satisfaction. This entire evening was about you.

So he only smiled at you, bringing your shift down, dress bunching less as he spread it over your legs. “Don’t you worry about that,” he said. “Set your concerns on what you want to ask me next.”

“I will think on it,” you responded, mind still in a daze as you pushed yourself off the cushions. “Tell me one thing, though. That was not…you know…everything, right?”

He held back a chuckle at your question—such ignorance, even now.

Clicking his tongue, he pinned you with a stare which held opportunity—a promise for more. “We have barely touched the surface.”

YOU WONDERED HOW HUMAN BEINGS WERE CAPABLE OF SUCH EUPHORIC FEELING.

It may have felt celestial, in a sense, but it was all your senses experienced in the next fortnight. Your every secret rendezvous with Joshua had you floating among the skies, the very stars within reach with his every touch on your skin. Since the incident in his study, it was all you could ponder; your tutoring was a menial task, always forgotten, trips to the modiste now an inconvenient excursion. Your body anticipated every moment you could spend searching for your dear friend, seeking him out either in your every waking moment, or in the sanctuary of your dreams.

Your face flushed hot with the actions that occurred as you slept, fingers involuntarily brushing your lips. God, his lips, moving against yours, like two perfect hands enveloping in a fervent greeting. His mouth was a ship, and your skin was the undiscovered sea, his fingers like tidal waves, caressing the shores of your desire. He was a sailor with ambition, and you could not stop yourself, being slowly taken over by his motives.

You thought you knew him—his beliefs, each of his dreams and every one of his thoughts. You were so sure of him, so certain, but this one piece of knowledge had shattered any image of perfection you had created of him.

It took every morsel of your strength not to dunk your head completely within the water, hands gripping tighter to the copper tub in the middle of your bathroom. The water was colder now, scalding hot when you first dipped in, but the hours had ticked by, and you were still inside, ruminating over your visitor. Even your servant reminded you of the time you had spent in complete silence, writhing quietly in the same position, but you merely nodded, unable to think of anything else.

You needed more time to brace yourself, see. This morning you received the news that Viscount Hastings was to visit. Ordinary news, of course, since he had committed to seeing you at least once a week your entire life. Your dear friend admitted shame that you constantly reached out first, and sought to reverse this. Before, you would have been ecstatic by this slight change—this time, it only incited chaos.

The flannel on the side of the tub dried by the time you grabbed hold of it, intending to clean the grime of your pondering. It was irrational, you were aware, but the reflections—the visions of his lips on yours were so vivid you were sullied by the mere thought. You brought the cloth to your shoulders, your legs, and each rough swipe was replaced by the rugged brushes of his hands on your body.

But he was not there. It was only you and your lifelike anarchy, shaped in the form of Joshua. Joshua Hong, the clean-cut, spotlessly reputed gentleman, that tarnished your very manner of thinking.

Despite everything, he was still faultless in your eyes. He was, more so after you sought out his secret, most when he offered you a shilling of his wealth. He would always be, even as you heaved yourself out of your bath, let your maid change you into your evening garments, hoping that it was your friend’s fingers tying the ribbons along your back. Even as you finally greeted him, he ushering himself into your private chamber, the new reading he had promised to conquer alongside you in hand.

Even now, with him not a mere foot from you, leaning back as he read an anthology of contemporary plays, he was perfection itself. As always, he was permitted to visit you in your private rooms, settling himself comfortably in the ornate couches just opposite your four-poster bed. He hoped to show you more special-edition novels he had collected in different corners of Europe.

You had only nodded absent-mindedly at him, taking the book he offered. Before, you had never paid mind to how he sauntered into your bedroom, even allowed to explore your private sphere, reside in it without your parents’ rage. Your mother did find it strange one time, but your adamance in your friendship with him tarnished any of her concerns. How comical, you thought, that he sat there now, you knowing he had stolen the breaths from your lips—God, he had his fingers sliding in places that speaking of them shamed a woman forever.

You wondered whether he was aware of how ardently he had changed your life.

“Blake not diverting enough for you?”

Perking up at his voice, you observed his comfortable stance, turning the page of his book. “I told you Wordsworth is much better. Blake is dismal for your countenance…I cannot read him without weeping for London.”

But you did not care for the city you resided in at that moment. “What are you reading, then?”

He held the anthology out—Odes to a Love Lost, by Lord Jeon, Earl of Lonsdale. “Wonwoo’s work. His publisher’s released a collector’s edition of his poetry and plays.”

“Lord Jeon? I do not see him around much,” you admitted, closing your novel, your pointer finger marking your current page. “I did not realise he released something new.”

“On the contrary,” he said, skimming over the contents. “This is simply another edition of his older works. Even I rarely have the chance to meet him, and he is supposed to be my closest companion.”

“At the Diamond’s, right? I remember Soonyoung complaining that he does not attend much.”

Joshua clicked his tongue. “He prefers to surround himself with trees and melancholy over his friends.”

“Perhaps his certain friends are a bore,” you teased, setting Blake’s collection to the side, “and his estate animals offer better company.”

“Yet you happen to be in that certain friend’s tedious company,” he sneered, sliding his cool gaze to you. “Why have you not run from me?”

Now there was a question you could not answer. You decided, instead, to test him another way. “The real fault has to lie within the establishment itself. Perhaps if I were to see inside, find the problem—”

“It is astonishing how unwilling you are to give this up,” Joshua cut you off, marking his own reading with a finger. “You realise I refuse to let you sneak inside?”

“I still do not understand, though!” you exclaimed. “All I ask is one day of distracting your friends, and let me roam around.”

“What I do not understand is your obsession with the club,” he countered, turning to fully face you. “What do you want to see so desperately that you ask me every time it is mentioned?”

“It is the not knowing which makes me curious, Joshua!” You decided to reflect his action, even folding your legs beneath you as you sat on them, straightening before him. “I mean, a gentlemen’s club, exclusive to any women? Surely there is something interesting beneath the surface!”

“I wish I could regale you of a scandal behind the Diamond’s doors,” he sighed out. “I promise you, though, my dear, there is nothing fascinating happening.” He then pondered for a bit, as if truly wanting to amuse you. “Perhaps the most outrageous event was Soonyoung attempting to sneak in an actress a couple of years back.”

“What?!” you gasped. “He would dare incite the members’ anger?”

“Well, you know what he is like.” A scoff. “Fool was caught, of course, and by Chan, too. He threatened to reveal the whole event to Seungcheol, and only kept his mouth shut once I intervened.”

“My goodness,” you got out. “Seungcheol is a tyrant, then?”

“Not a tyrant,” he clarified, “but a stickler for the rules. Seungcheol believes in maintaining society just as it is. He cannot have anything extraordinary occurring in the foundations of the ton.”

That left a bitter taste in your mouth. “How odd.”

“Very traditional, if I do say so myself. I imagine the Diamond’s is a haven for him, as it is for anyone who resides in it.”

“Is it a haven for you?”

The man’s gaze wandered to the surroundings before him. “I guess? I mean, the gentlemen there are quite different than they are in the city. Everyone is more unguarded.”

You looked at him. “Does that mean you are guarded with me?”

His eyes were upon you at once. “What do you think, angel?”

The intensity of his stare had you faltering. “I mean…you were, no? At the ball…”

“Have I not repented enough for that sin?” He let his lips quirk upward, savouring your heated reaction. “Do you wish to witness more of my forgiveness?”

The very ruminations of his repentance had you burning up. “You have done more than enough.” You made to glance at him again. “If you are not so guarded, then I suppose you will allow me a question.”

He tilted his head, inspecting you. “You say it as if I should be guarded.”

“No, no, this is, um…” You played with the ends of your silk ribbons, trailing from your bow at the back of the dress. “This is a question that…you know, you do not have to answer, if it bothers you.”

His gaze was scrutinising. “We have done worse than whatever you have said to me in the past.”

You resisted the shiver which threatened to overcome you. “Very true.” You paused again, mulling over the question, wondering if it was appropriate—strange, when you had never recognised a sense of shame with him before. One heated night and you could barely speak to him about anything.

Furrowing your brows, you determined to change that. Before whatever you two were entrapped in at this moment, you were friends. “Well, this might sound like a disturbing question but…you know…the things that we have done…” You felt his own brow raise at your implication, and you could not help closing your eyes, almost regretting ever opening your mouth. “When was the first time you did them?”

Instantly you crumpled your face, the slight embarrassment growing and threatening to spill from your very pores. You did not gauge his reaction at the start, but you could not help yourself, allowing one eye to peek at his face. Whatever surprise he would have exposed, it was not present anymore, instead settled in a pondering expression.

“Why do you ask?” was his first question.

You were incredibly sheepish. “I guess it is curiosity? I mean, all these firsts…I am experiencing them with you, yet you have already done so with another.”

He was careful with his next inquiry. “Does that bother you?”

You shook your head. “No, but it does make me think about when it might have happened for you.” You then raised your hands in a hurried fashion. “You do not have to tell me, though! I understand that it can be private…God knows I have trifled with your privacy enough.”

Joshua mulled over your question—and how it should be answered. The sensible path would have been to agree that you had meddled enough, and that he wished to salvage the last threads of his privacy. It was already troublesome to have his journal compromised, and the consequences that came out of it…it had cost him dearly.

But as he caught sight of the open curiosity, the interest to know about him beyond their friendship…he had to admit it. It had the hairs on the back of his neck erecting at the notion, gooseflesh prickling along his arms. It had him wanting to put a voice to his haunting thoughts, reflections he had kept only to himself and the dusted pages of his journal.

“My first kiss was with a girl I cannot remember,” he began, a little hesitant, “and, I confess, was not my finest work at all. I guess that is to be expected, though, with any firsts.”

“My first kiss was lovely, though,” you blurted out without thinking, and the complacency, stained upon his features as he smirked, had your heart beating much too fast. You looked away quickly. “I mean…is it expected? For every first to be underwhelming?”

“For most? Unfortunately,” he admitted. “You were lucky, though, for you had an excellent partner to kiss.”

That only made your face hotter. “Enough about that…tell me about the women in the journal…was that the first time that you did those…things?”

Again, he chose to be honest. “No. Everything I experienced first hand was in my Oxford years, just after I turned eighteen.” He propped an elbow on the head of the couch, resting his head in his hand. “You see, my university years offered newfound freedoms. It was not all academic drawl. The boys there, well…they all partake in the debauchery. In fact, they almost laugh at you for wanting to abstain from women.”

“So you did these things to avoid humiliation?”

He shook his head. “I delved into it because I was curious.” He raised his brows. “As you are very much so before me.”

You were, but you could not hide your own embarrassment. Thankfully, you did not have to say anymore, as Joshua began to unravel his experiences one by one, from his first sneaking women from the town into his accommodation, to his first time experiencing pleasure so strikingly similar to your own. He explained to you the differences within his first times, certain awkward incidents which meant he could never meet those women again. You laughed at him for his self-sabotages, yet you internally thanked him for not directing his insults to you, who had not experienced any of his misadventures.

It was fascinating, to have this side of your dear friend revealed to you in such intimate fashion, when a few weeks ago you would not have comprehended the very notion of pleasing someone, and in turn being satisfied. To think that you would have spent your entire life in ignorance, if the man sitting in front of you had not confided in you. Your heartbeat thundered unevenly, unpredictable in its occupation to work.

More so when, as he finished his tales, you asked him one more question. “With all your exposure so far…and I understand that this is foolish, but…do you feel the same with me?” You then clarified, watching the change of his expression. “By that I mean is…whatever you feel…would it be different depending on the person?”

He observed you struggle to get the question out, undoubtedly a little embarrassed to be compared. He did not know why, but he found it endearing—to be shy with him, even after what you and him had done together—something inside him sang at the sight.

He gave into his little wish, reaching out his hand and enveloping his fingers around your wrist. “Everyone experiences it in their own way,” he responded, slowly pulling you to him. “The women I had lain with…they were vastly different to you. Do you wish to know how?”

You did not even have to say it—your eyes begged the question for your voice. He chuckled, drinking in your anticipation. “Because we, my dearest, share a friendship I have never gained with any other.”

He leaned in, a sight for your aching eyes. “What we have…no other has ever come close.”

You let out a shuddered breath, brushing against his lips. Friendship. A relation deeper than any he had created. It made your lungs constrict, your throat closing as you fought to uphold is stare. Damn him, for he made it so difficult.

Joshua made it impossible, when, with a final glance at your mouth, he followed through with his own, closing the distance with a kiss.

Instantly accepting him, you rid yourself from his hold, instead wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him even closer. Yes, the man before you made it impossible to escape him, make this experience a mere experiment, when he was plying your lips open, swiping his tongue along the seams, inciting a desire which lay deep within.

Even with the sense of urgency, he was gentle, languid as always as he explored the inner workings of your mouth, tasting your desperation with his tongue, aching to have him all over you without restraint. There it was again, that feeling that plagued you for weeks, refusing to give you respite. With the way softly nipped at your bottom lip with each movement, smiling slightly against you, you knew he felt it too.

It made you more frantic, almost insane as you ran your fingers through his locks, the velvet of his curls accentuating his heated touches. As he broke away from the kiss, instead peppering his lips on the corner of your own, your jaw, you sighed out his name, an indication of your glee, already hazy from his truly. “Joshua—” you whispered, feeling him go down as his mouth latched onto your neck, his legs slowly buckling as he descended to his knees.

His kisses trailed down your clothed abdomen, feeling every shift of his lips through the soft fabric of your dress. He pulled away only for a moment, hands hurryingly raising the ends of your skirts, his determined bunching of the cloth fuelling the movement of your own fingers, pulling at the sheen-like material till it bundled at your hips, you holding on. The memory of the same bunched dress flashed within your mind, the same man who did the bunching offering the same hungered stare, the unchanged desire pooling in his irises.

Seeing your cunt on full display—just as it had been the few nights he had caught glimpses, then let his fingers take their fill—had him near losing his mind.

“This…” his voice was husky, as if he had run laps around all of Mayfair. “I will never tire at the sight of you like this.” He flicked his gaze upward. “For me, at that.”

Your face burned at the words—the final comment. “You exaggerate,” you merely said, unable to look him in the eye.

He made sure you did not falter in his stare. “No, angel…I do not.”

The intense nature of his intent had you nodding weakly, doing nothing for your nerves. Because he could tell, it did wonders for his pride, the smirk teasing before now showing itself shamelessly.

Yes, looking at you all exposed—for him and him only—had the very nerves in his brain self-imploding, ceasing to work entirely. Had he not been in this position enough times to be used to the feeling? Perhaps if it were anyone else, he might have. Perhaps if he was pleasing any other stranger in some shoddy European tavern, his boredom might have conquered any prospect for excitement.

But it was you—naked from the waist down, save for those dainty silk stockings. Even the damned stockings incited a dangerous reaction from him down under, his very cock restraining in his pants. It was a dire situation, indeed, but it was not as if he could help himself. The night in the study had altered the machinations of his mind.

His hands, almost working beyond those corrupted machinations, wrapped around the back of your knees. “Your…your legs, angel,” he began, slinging them over each of his shoulders, raising you ever so slightly off the desk, resting on your shoulders. “There we go.” with this angle, he was incredibly close to your core—enough to feel his very presence not two inches from the bundle of nerves that ached to be relieved. Relief that only he could provide—just as he promised.

He knew it too. The bastard was well aware of this newfound power, when he blew softly at your core, making you hiss. “Joshua!” you breathed out, already twitching at the phantom touch. “Stop it, stop the teasing!”

“Forgive me,” he breathed out, chuckling. Even the faint huffs of laughter brushed against you, and you could have whined. “You’ll have your enjoyment.”

A fickleness inside you internally rebuked his claim, thinking he was relishing within his own enjoyment a little too much.

But then you felt his tongue sliding along your folds, and you were proven wrong in every essence of the word.

You thought nothing could surpass Joshua’s fingers inside you. You were made a fool by his tongue, exploring the edges of your cunt, a languid admirer who had all the time in the world. He was slow with his movements—slow, without any tension, as if you were an untouched artefact, and he was on the first journey of discovering you outright.

Joshua always called himself careful—a cautioned creature he was, and meticulous he will be. To rush the process would be a dishonour to you. He would rather absolve himself of any morsel of pleasure if he ruined this for you.

But there was no cause for complaint from you—the unhurried swipes of his tongue against your folds was the beginning of your satisfaction. His lapping up of your arousal, his hums of approval reverating against your core was magic, pure, ethereal power which bewitched your senses. You thought you were quick in undoing yourself with his fingers, but you feared how instantaneous your ruination would be this time, with his exploring, his teasing.

Your breaths sputtered out of you, head lolling back at the tendrils of pleasure that curled up your spine. You felt him open his mouth further, grip on your legs tightening, and he delved in further, relishing your reactions.

You foolishly thought you were handling yourself with some semblance of dignity. Then he dragged his tongue upwards, to your clit, and an obscene sound flew out of you, your eyes widening in shame as your head whipped up.

The sight of Joshua clinging onto you down under, brows furrowed as he licked your clit had your very back arching, blinking back the overwhelming desire that threatened to blanket over your mind. His focus was staggering, the grip on your legs unwavering, and you could not observe for too much longer, the feeling engulfing you from the inside. Your hands carded through his hair, needing to hold onto him, any part of him, because you were straying from your very body, and he was the only solid anchor.

His eyes then flicked up to you—by God, his damned eyes were dancing, and you felt him smile against your cunt.

You could have collapsed before him. He was enjoying this as much as you were.

Joshua could have burst with pride at your reaction, swirling his tongue along the bud. He had reckoned this would be borne from a sense of duty, a favour to you as his dearest friend. Granted, he revelled in the sparks of your desire bursting into hungry flames, but never did he think he would take this much enjoyment in your undoing.

He thought the night in his study was an anomaly. He did not realise his enjoyment would become a pattern.

At first it frightened him, the sparks of doubt creeping into his mind at the notion of his delight. Educating you was one thing, but revelling in your moans strayed from the very objective that brought about this situation. It had him thinking back on his passions peppered in every corner of Europe, leaving behind women yearning still for his return one day. Of course, his pride exceeded his successes in his journeys, but his thoughts were not plagued by these women.

Only you remained.

You, you, you, who had always been tucked into the corners of his mind, but never fully took over to this extent. Indeed, as he began to lose himself into you, he could only envision how a simple question could bring such chaos into his life—and yours.

He used to feel a little shame in bringing you in this position—he had not forgotten your wide eyes begging for salvation, and that was enough to destroy him. Now, holding tight onto your legs and licking away at your core, he felt he had crossed another boundary, another threat to his soul.

No—there were threats, and then there was pure annihilation. He was still standing—kneeling, rather, but still alive. He would be fine. Completely, utterly fine.

His ears caught the tune of your incorrigible whimpers forming words, and he would have been fine, as he so convincingly uttered.

“J-Joshua,” you moaned softly, the said-man feeling the shake in your voice—your legs. “Joshua, please, I…please.”

Please. Please. Please.

Oh, he was not fucking fine.

His one hand left your leg, two fingers instantly slipping past your thighs and plunging themselves past your folds, his tongue not pausing the entire time. A heightened gasp escaped you at the feeling, cunt pulsing along his touches, and you grasped onto his hair with a futile effort to hold onto him, salvage any sense of sanity.

But there would be no sanity for you, not when your friend was swirling his tongue with expert precision, his fingers sliding in and out faster than your mind could comprehend. He was relentless now, as if you had somehow turned a switch within his brain, and was born anew. That burdened feeling, the sensation within your gut turned heavier, and you faintly recalled how it had felt—the complete bliss of it all.

It had you pleading with him once more. “S-so close, Joshua, please—! The feeling is here again!”

He knew, of course he knew, and he made it clear, fastening his pace in every part of you he touched and tasted. Good, dearest Joshua, so damned good to you as he slithered his digits within you, curling them at the same time as he kissed your clit. As always, keeping his promise.

You could not take it anymore.

Your eyes snapped open as your release crashed through, legs shaking uncontrollably upon him as his mouth slowed his labour. Your surroundings were a blur, the only sharp feeling being the orgasm that shook through your bones, making you twitch and tremble upon him. It should have been frightening, not possessing control of your own body, but knowing that Joshua was under you, and not any other man, was enough to lose a semblance of yourself.

It should be frightening—why were you not terrified?

You felt the absence from your core, catching sight of the man as he leaned back on his knees. He was a sight for your lust-dazed eyes, hair in disarray as his hand found purchase upon your leg again, still slung onto his strong shoulders. The slow blinking back, the parted mouth…your insides could have come alive all over again.

He was so beautiful—like a fallen angel, devoted till the end of his tenure. Strange, how you made that comparison, when you were the one who was deemed as the celestial being.

It had your heart constricting painfully. “Tell me something, Joshua.”

His stare held you prisoner. “Anything, angel.”

Again, with that term. It was that very heart of yours, aching still, that spoke out. “Is it like this with everyone else?”

You felt him still beneath your skin. “I mean,” you continued, almost unable to escape from his eyes, “I just feel so…I have never felt like this before, and I think…well, I think you are the sole reason for it.”

His eyes widened a little, but that did not stop your confession, a broken dam of curiosity-laced words. “I imagine you would have this feeling in abundance, considering your…” this time, you had to look away. “Experience.”

He did not quite know what to say.

It was not as if you were wrong—he had expertise, experience he revelled in sharing with you. He did not need to remind himself of his endeavours, when he carried with them throughout his life, but at the end of the day, those were one-moment events. Singular nights of passion which ended the day they began.

But this was you. You, his closest friend, his confidante in ways his companions at the Diamond’s could not come close. You had known him longer than any other—your friendship spanned years which no one had caught up to yet. His earliest memories were of his time with you, whether that be running after each other at St. James Park in the town centre, or learning your letters together, reprimanded by the same tutor for your similar misdemeanours. The two of you had watched each other grow, become different individuals, but the friendship remained tethered from the suspicions of the ton.

Until you had stumbled upon his journal—until you had questioned the unspoken boundaries, and Joshua had let you. He could not help it, though. You were, after all, very dear to him.

He blinked back, staring at you. You were—dearer to him than he could have ever comprehended.

So he decided to be honest, uncertain of the consequences it would bring. “I have not felt like this with anyone else.”

Your heart fluttered—without restraint the feeling drifted over your skin, thumping in your chest, engulfing you whole. You did not know why. “That is…” you paused, breaths shuddering out of you. “That is very good to hear, Joshua.”

Perhaps it was the simple-enough confession—or even his name on your tongue. It had him parting his mouth, heartbeat thundering in his ears. “Truly?”

A soft nod. He felt his jaw slacken, losing semblance of his body, although he had not allowed himself to experience the release he sought out from you. Shocking, since he would have wished it from anyone else. He could not mistake the selfishness within himself—was it not the very reason he began this whole escapade with you in the first place?

But as he raised himself a little higher, eyes refusing to stray from your own, he found his hands climbing up to your face, fingers brushing against burning skin. Again, the beating of his heart raced at that. “I…” he began, faltering his words. God, when had he forgotten how to speak with you?

“Joshua?” you murmured.

He watched you a little longer. It was beyond his control when he leaned in closer, shocking you out of your body as he enveloped his lips with yours. You welcomed him without realising, moving your mouth with his own, humming at the butterfly’s touch of a kiss that you did not expect.

The man did not either. It was as if his heart took the reins of his hands, his lips. He kissed you with a burning which incited fear, strange sensations, as if he was attempting the very act of kissing for the first time. He was slow, finding more solace on your lips the longer he explored you, humming in pure, subconscious delight.

There was an addition to his offerings. There was something there that was not present in previous gatherings, when it was little more than lust, a curiosity being satiated. This was new, unexplored territory—a feeling beyond your stomach, venturing upward to the centre of your being. Your chest felt heavy, holding the weight of the city upon you, and you could not breathe at the sensation, threatening to bury you alive.

Yet you savoured the feeling. Moaned it as you opened your mouth further, confiding it within the corners of his mouth. You may have had an inkling on what this newfound progression was, but that was not the time to speak it into the silent void, not when you could not physically voice it.

He thought it was you that needed respite. How wrong he had assumed that you needed some form of recess, a moment to take all these changes in. It was him all along who stuttered in every action, hesitating needlessly when you dared to be brave, satiate your heated curiosity. It was him that stalled, his patience reigning thin.

When he finally broke away, heaving slightly from the kiss, his eyes darted over you, restless in their journey, unable to fully immerse himself in all of you. You overwhelmed him, your every move, your every flicker that gazed upon him with such gratification. It was as if you could not hide how happy he made you, even from the most insignificant things.

It made him shiver at the notion—more so when he felt himself feeling the exact same.

Slowly, he pulled away, hands which had gripped your face before now falling to your shoulders. “I…I must leave you,” he declared softly, taking a step back. “Forgive me, I did not realise where we were…your chamber, of all places…”

“It is alright, Joshua,” you assured him, cancelling out his step with your own. “What matters is I enjoyed it.” You watched him. “Did you…not?”

He became absent-minded, removed from your question. “I did…very much…” He willed his hands at his sides, the absence of your silk, your skin, itching on his fingers. “That is why I must go.”

And as he began to leave, turning on his heel, you watched, a sudden flurry of emotions that refused to be silenced any longer. Without realising you reached your hand out, grabbing onto his wrist, and he stopped, eyes instantly resting on the hold.

You looked at him. What you wanted to say was that you had something to tell him, something important—something which had grown inside of you, a feeling which he himself had nurtured. You wanted to tell him then and there, after his confession.

You then caught onto his expression—a certain dread inhabited his beautiful features, and its exposure was so pungent you could only whisper, “Are you alright, Joshua?”

He released a sharp breath at the question, caught off guard. Only after a moment did he bring his other hand upon your interlocked fingers—the touch made him almost flinch. “I am…trust me, _____.”

And then he released your hold upon him, finally turning his back on you as he hurried out of your chambers.

You watched his disappeared figure, the absence as you flexed and unflexed your hand, the sensation fluttering all around you.

And as your own dread was born, slowly beginning to creep over, you had a gnawing realisation that you could not answer his plea of trust.

YOU DID NOT KNOW WHETHER YOU WERE IGNORING JOSHUA, OR HE WAS IGNORING YOU.

An agonising couple of weeks had passed since the evening in your chambers, and the frustrations of your newfound feelings were tugging at you more than you had imagined. Before, when the very thought of Joshua’s absence had you biting your nails to mere stumps, you almost thanked him for disappearing. The very last person you wished to see was him.

Or so you kept declaring to yourself. What was the universal truth was that you had something of great importance to convey to your best friend, but you could not take him away from you. It was a fact which you denied every waking moment it confronted you, and the more you kept it hidden, the more it begged to be set free.

Reading Whistledown was enough to confirm your suspicions—Joshua Hong was avoiding all of society, and because you were already anxious, the news only heightened the tension. When will you create the opportunity to speak to him? Would you both be punished with distance and infinite discomfort for the rest of your lives?

You pondered over it further as you stewed in your anxiety in your drawing room, waving away the concerns of your maids, even narrowly avoiding your mother’s skepticism. Perhaps you would have spent another seven days wallowing within yourself when a servant informed you of an unexpected visitor. You jumped up from your seat, anticipating the very man who had been haunting your thoughts. Soonyoung’s face appeared from the door and your hopeful smile dropped, dimmed down.

“I saw that!” he remarked, nodding his head to the servant, an implicit order to not disturb the two. As the latter closed the door behind him, he turned to you, an image of grandeur in his black and gold attire, raven-coloured coat folded in one arm. “At least make an honest attempt at pretending.”

“Forgive me,” you mumbled, frowning. “I was expecting someone else.”

“I might have a name for that someone else.” He wished to pass further judgement, but then he caught the look on your face. “Oh God, jest gone too far?”

When you did not respond to him, he hurried over to you, a man with a purpose. “Dearest, why the long face? Has Joshua done something?”

His name had you perking up. “Why did you mention him?” you asked, instantly straightening yourself, eyes a little frantic. “Why do you think he has done something?”

Soonyoung noticed the sudden change, quirking a brow. “If I did not think it before, I certainly do now.” He saw you further slumping your shoulders. “_____, tell me.”

“It is nothing,” you said, waving him off as you settled upon the ornate couch. “I just…I have heard nothing from him for a while.”

“Is that so?” his hands fisted on his hips. “I have seen enough of him at the Diamond’s.”

You did not know why that statement shocked you.Your friend noticed instantly. “Oh no…it all makes sense now.”

“What do you mean?” You watched him sit himself down next to you, frowning as he thought over the situation. “Has he said something?”

“Not what he has said, but what he has abstained from saying.” He looked at the luxurious paintings plastered on your drawing room walls. “I did find it rather strange that he has almost set up camp in the member lodgings. I commented on his staying there so long, even asked him if anything troubled him, but he did not confide in me.” He then glanced at you. “When I asked, though, whether he had quarrelled with you, it was as if I told him I gambled away his estates.”

“What?” you shuffled closer to the man, hanging onto his account. “At my mention?”

He nodded, huffing. “Can you believe he then ignored me for the rest of the day? You would think I insulted his mother.”

No—but he certainly insulted you. A sudden hurtful streak crossed through your heart, and you had to stop yourself from thinking about it too much. You wanted to say something, but even the thought of uttering a word had your eyes stinging.

One harsh sigh from you, and Soonyoung turned to you, irritation for his friend morphing into concern. “My dear, you are hiding something from me,” he said, reaching out to hold your shoulders, turning to face him. “Is everything okay?”

Catching the genuine worry on your friend’s face had your face crumpling, just a bit. “Oh no, _____,” he said, frowning, leaning in closer, “now you have to confess your worries. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Well, you could not—that was what you and Joshua had established. With your friend asking you this close, inquiring after yourself, the cause for your sadness, however, you could not hide it anymore. What you were going to say was that you had done something wrong. What you were meant to admit was that you and Joshua had committed actions which would have shocked polite society, perhaps changing his opinion of you two forevermore.

What came out of your mouth instead shocked even yourself. “I think I have feelings for Joshua.”

There was silence—then there was the silence Soonyoung partook in, which could have put normal silence to shame.

You dared not look him in the eye. Because of Soonyoung’s quiet discomfort, you found yourself speaking out, saying more than you wished to. You began from the moment in the study, when you first found Joshua’s writings, to the moments of passion the two of you had carried out together. You did not try to omit any detail of what you had done with him—perhaps a childish mistake, but you were not thinking, really. If your friend’s vault of silence was firm, your own had broken down, confession upon confession slipping out of you of your dearest companion’s teachings, how you indulged in them…the feelings of something more slipping between the haze of lust.

Bless the man sitting beside you, because he hung onto every word, reacting to every morsel of information you fed him. It was as if he was reading a scandalous journal of your findings, hand flying to his mouth at one point when you told him of Joshua’s slight confession. That was when he broke the dam of his silence. “Joshua Hong said this to you?”

“The very same,” you said, locking and unlocking your hands. “He said he did not feel it with anyone else.”

A harsh sigh escaped him. “I see,” he muttered, facing forward. “Firstly, I must thank you for confiding in me. I understand why you two kept these encounters a secret, so you have my gratitude for sharing it.” He then twisted his lips, eyes fogging, as if lost in thought. You observed the slight change of expression, anticipating his next question. “I must inquire after one more detail, though, my dear, and I fear it is rather unseemly.”

“Nothing is scandalous to me after what I have confessed,” you assured him, shuffling closer to him, holding onto his arm. “Ask away.”

He looked down at your hand, gripping onto his decorated sleeve. “Did you and Joshua go all the way?”

You halted for a moment. “Why do you ask?”

“It is important because I know what he is like,” he reasoned. “Joshua, he…when we travelled around the continent, we all indulged in…well, you know what we did, if you have read the full extent of his journals. Out of us members, he is a man who favours experience and participation to truly enjoy the moments he resides in…do you understand?”

When you shook your head, he bit his lip, trying for another explanation. “You see, there are certain out of us who become attached to the experiences we encounter, thus garnering emotional importance…Joshua will murder me for this, but when we were travelling together, he did not become emotionally attached to anyone he met. It was what allowed him to engage in such…licentious behaviour, record it as if he were conducting an experiment, and not having an incredibly intimate moment.”

He looked at you, tilting his head as he pondered over the entire situation. “What I am trying to say is that I expected him to show you the full extent of what occurred between two people. Why has he stopped after the last encounter? What changed then?”

What changed? You knew what changed for you, but you were not sure if your best friend experienced the same shift. God, you wanted him to, but his absence, and consequent silence, did not prove your willful theory. “I do not know,” you could only offer, frowning. “I just…I wish I could simply ask him.”

Soonyoung hummed in agreement. He then perked his head up, furrowing his brows. “Well, you could ask him.”

You looked at him as if he went mad. “You told me yourself that he is at the Diamond’s.”

“Yes, he is,” he confirmed, slowly rising from his seat, “So why not ask him yourself?”

“Because as I said about three seconds ago, he is at the Diamond’s.” You scowled, crossing your arms. “And you know well of the rules on ladies being seen there.”

As he straightened fully to his feet, fixing his waistcoat, he looked at you, a small smirk rising to the surface of his mouth. “Since when have I cared about rules, _____?”

You stared at his hand, outstretching before you.Truer words had not been spoken—Kwon Soonyoung did not believe in restraint and order. Chaos was his favourite aspect of life, and spent all his hours chasing it, welcoming it. “What if he does not want to see me?” you asked, barely a body to that question.

He only smiled. “We will never know if we do not find out, right?”

And although it was a mere amount, it was still hope.

With that, your fingers slipped into his own, and he brought you to your feet. He squeezed your hand, never letting go. “Let us confront this coward.”

THE DIAMOND CLUB OF MAYFAIR MADE NO SHOW OF HIDING ITS SPLENDOUR TO ONLOOKERS.

You observed the row of white, terraced houses, columns inspired from the classical period towering above you. Old, Georgian-style bow windows curved out from the white stone, the sheer glass reflecting the slowly dying sunlight of the evening. Black iron fences rimmed around the estate, one small opening revealing a large black door, lampposts of the same colour bordering its frames.

Soonyoung caught up after closing the carriage door behind you, following after your line of sight. “You gawk at it as if you have never seen the building before,” he remarked, amused by your admiration.

“I know, but the idea of actually entering the club this time…” you fought to repress a shiver. “Are you certain of bringing me here? What will your friends say?”

“You need not worry so much, my dear.” He made to walk, tugging you along with him. “If it helps your nerves, the majority left their lodgings to watch a play at the Globe tonight. Joshua and I were the sole members who declined.”

“A play at the Globe?” Your tone turned sheepish. “Oh, forgive me, Soonyoung, I know how much you love your theatre.”

“Save your apologies,” he reassured you, strolling up to the door as he nodded at the footman, slipping a few shillings. “I had more important business tonight than seeing Romeo and Juliet kill themselves over a five-day fancy.”

“Goodness! Perhaps the rival families should have turned to you,” you crowed, nodding in acknowledgement to the servant, hanging tight to your friend, “with the way you butchered their children’s romance.”

“Be satisfied that I am not intent on butchering your chance for romance,” he tutted, bringing you inside, ushering for the front door to be shut.

He was merely teasing, but you were not amused. You had not thought of the possibilities of a romance. You wanted it, though. You wanted it to the point that your soul ached at the prospect of it, especially when you allowed yourself a sliver of its image with the man you wanted it with.

But you were not certain of his feelings, so that image, too, vanished, along with any of the hilarity Soonyoung brought.

“He should be in his quarters,” he commented, turning to the right, and then another through the long-winded hallways, decorated lavishly with paintings of classical depictions, as well as portraits of past members. It was still a fairly new club, but the fathers of the current membership were held in great esteem in oiled artwork, observing with curt gazes at the passersby. You wondered whether they noticed a very visible outsider trespassing their borders.

Unsurprisingly, Soonyoung cared little for the judgments of those long gone, so he only steered you further into the secondary living quarters of his companions. Finally, he stopped before a mahogany door, silence curtaining the halls once your low-heeled footsteps came to a stop.

A determined fist knocked at the door. The answer was swift, cutthroat.

“Leave me be, Soonyoung.”

Your heart began to sink, but your friend refused to accept defeat. “You need to come out. I have a guest with me.”

There was a pause at the door, the silence eating you alive. Then, a muted shuffle pulled through, and suddenly his footsteps were right behind the door, and you only had a second to brace yourself when the door swung open.

You were welcomed by none other than the man who had haunted your livelihood for weeks.

Joshua meant to glare at the younger man for disturbing his peace temporarily. He then realised you were in front of him, then corrected himself immediately.

You alone had disturbed his peace—perhaps forever.

You could see it in his countenance—the ruffled hair, as if restless hands had raked through the locks. The one untucked collar of his loose undershirt, fingers stained with ink. Even his eyes were wild, as if he had gazed upon a wildfire. Well, you were akin to a natural disaster to him—a tamper on his very senses.

Time passed between you two, the silence loud enough to deafen any onlookers. It was little wonder when Soonyoung, as he observed you two, mouth agape, had no regret in breaking it. “You really were not lying, were you?”

Your best friend darted his agitated gaze towards him. “What are you talking about?”

You decided to carry out your path of honesty. “I told him everything.”

It was chilling, watching the very colour from his face vanish into the thick air of this atmosphere. “You did…what?”

Soonyoung attempted an excuse. “Now you know I would not tell a soul, Joshua—”

“Leave us.”

The order cut through any hurried explanations, killing them clean. It seemed as if Soonyoung wanted to speak out, say something more, but you reached for his arm, nodding. He looked at you, concerned for a moment, but then he took a step back, watching the tense scene before him with caution. “You both take your time. The others will not be returning for a while.” He then locked his gaze at the man who you sought out. “Do not think about running away this time.”

Joshua could not provide a cutting response, only watching him exit the dimmed hallways. Only when he was certain that he had disappeared that he finally focused on you. You gaped at him as he parted his mouth, bracing yourself for the chiding, the scolding for daring to venture in a place he had so vehemently prohibited.

But nothing came out. He knitted his brows together, trying to find the words, but then he sighed, closing his eyes. His hand rested on the doorframe, leaning his weight against the creaking wood.

You tried to speak for him. “Joshua…”

Perhaps his name on your lips was the trigger—maybe your very voice awaking him. One second his hand was on the doorframe, the next it was upon your wrist, one glance at the empty hallway before he pulled you inside his chamber, shutting the door behind him.

His lodgings at the club were grand, but a certain chaos had stained the certain order you were sure he would have maintained in his private sphere. His desk was littered with books and papers, longcoats and other layers dumped upon chairs and side tables. His walls were the softest of whites, but his internal havoc had spilled onto the surfaces of his four walls, sullying the very light of this room. It was clear to anyone that Joshua had hid himself away, seething alone.

He whirled around as he stopped you both at the centre. His eyes were interrogating your every fidget, every movement out of place. You reckoned he would chide you for daring to venture in the Diamond’s, but something else came out entirely.

“You told him about what we did?”

You immediately resorted to defending yourself. “You shunned me, Joshua. What else did you expect me to do?” A look over your shoulder, as if Soonyoung would be there, watching the entire scene. “You said so yourself, did you not, that he would be trusted with this secret?”

“I did say that, but we still agreed to keep this between us,” he countered, not backing down. “I warned you of his insolence, and look what has come of you ignoring it. He brought you here, of all damned places!”

“He may be brazen, but he is not stupid!” You wrenched your wrist from his tightening grip. “He knew that you were avoiding me, so he did the one thing that would catch your attention.”

“Well, he should not have done it anyway,” he rebuked, “and you should not have told him. We had an agreement.”

“A little difficult to uphold an agreement with an individual when he ignores me outright!” you exclaimed. “Besides, he told me some very insightful information on your current state.”

“Is that so?” He was sneering now, attempting to incite your anger. “And what did you learn from his infinite wisdom?”

Oh, he was succeeding without effort. “He said you never restrained yourself on the Continent. Said you flaunted your rakish behaviour, and that it was strange to see it be different with me.” You gritted out the last sentence, an awful taste in your mouth as you released it. “Am I so distasteful to you, Joshua?”

Perhaps it soured his own tongue too to hear it. “You know that is not what I thought of you,” he refuted. He then sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his parted mouth. “_____, you have read of my…behaviour in the Continent. The ladies I carried out such actions with were different. Different from you.”

“Different,” you parroted, mocking him. “You keep using this word…as if you wish to separate me from you. I hate it when you do that.”

“You are different,” he guttered, and his voice cracked straight through your skin. “You are my dearest friend, and I was treating you like every woman I had ever laid with! I had to deny myself certain liberties!”

“Stop punishing yourself, Joshua!” you screamed. “Stop blaming yourself for inciting my feelings! Stop being so selfless!”

“Enough!” he thundered out, and you blinked back at his sudden hysteria. “I cannot take this image of benevolence you have created of me anymore. It is not true, and I cannot stand this pretense anymore. I cannot…will not accept the notion that only I have done something to you.”

You furrowed your brows, fisting your hands at your sides. “What have I done to you?”

“You…!” He was breathing hard—uneven. “You have tampered with my senses, when I was content with myself! You think I have sparked a few embers inside you, but you…damn you, you have set my very soul on fire! I cannot think, cannot see straight! Look at the state of my surroundings!” His hands were frantic as they waved at the disorder of his chamber. “This is what has become of me after all we have done.”

You gaped at him, the words that spilled from his mouth with no intention to stop. “You asked for forgiveness once, had you not? When we first kissed, you chastised me for apologising for our actions…I fear I have to ask for forgiveness again, because you may not think I am doing anything wrong, but I am.”

A scoff escaped him. “Selfless…you called me selfless? You are wrong. Ask me why you are foolish for believing better of me.”

Your solitary question was barely a whisper. “Why?”

His stare had locked you into a trance. “Because what I do for you is not for you. Well, it was at the start, in that I speak the truth, but…that day when I touched you, tasted you…I felt any pretense of kindness vanishing the moment I saw you glowing from my efforts.” His breaths were bated, as if savouring each gulp the universe offered—as if his time was finite.

“My desire for you, angel, my longing for you…it has awakened something in me, a feeling which is stronger than our friendship.”

That had you sucking in a breath. “You cannot mean that.”

His aching scowl stained the beauty of his features. “I wish I did not. I…I tried to fight it, truly I did. Why do you think I avoided meeting you? I was ashamed to face you. Knowing your wishes to maintain a bond deeper than anyone else, yet I am hell-bent on sullying it with my desire.”

A pause again, and you felt your heartbeat thunder in your ears, like a church bell ringing over a grave announcement. “I admit our first affair was selfless…an act to satiate your curiosity. I do not, however, see these as acts of mere kindness anymore. Even if you see it as such, I do not act out of kindness. It is an impure, selfish want.”

He finally sighed, and you thought he would have collapsed on the carpeted floor had he not been looking at you all this time. You felt the ground swaying beneath your feet too, taking in the confession, everything he had dared to tell you.

Desire. Longing. An impure, selfish want. Something curled in your insides, and you recognised the feeling immediately—a sensation only your dearest friend ignited from you.

My longing for you has awakened something in me, a feeling which is stronger than our friendship. Ah yes. A desire which had overtaken possibly your most earnest relationship with anyone around you. You expected some form of devastation over his words, but you felt the strangest relief wash over you.

You were not insane. You, who had been feeling the same, shaming yourself for your lust, crept over like a predator on the hunt, only to find he had shared in the feeling all this time.

Seeing the realisations churning on your face had him taking a step back, fingers aching to reach out. “Forgive me,” he said, and there was genuine guilt residing upon his features. “I did not mean to burden you with my words. I just…Soonyoung was right. I may have been selfish, but I could not go all the way.”

He was a picture of devastation. “You should do it with someone you cherish deeply. We can do it if you so wish, but I could not…not when you do not feel the way I feel.” He gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing. “So I pray you forgive me, _____.”

Apologies once again…just like the first time. Except there were no boundaries this time around—no, he had finally crossed them, torn them down, with you solely remaining. He had confided to you of his desire. You had witnessed the pure, unadulterated yearning swimming helplessly in his gaze, begging to be saved.

Perhaps it was your turn, now, to be honest. No more secrets. “You cannot say that, Joshua, because it is not true.”

He stopped—you saw his very soul slip away from his eyes. You did not let him question you, continuing, “You thought you were the only one experiencing a change? You are wrong for that, Joshua. How could you have expected me to maintain a pretense of normality when you had shown me things I thought were…God.” You cursed, a soft whisper, and he caught it on your lips, darting between your mouth and your gaze. “You say you burdened me with your feelings but you are wrong.”

You took a step towards him. “You have relieved me of my own burden.”

He was a ghost, haunted by your implications. “What…what do you mean?”

But he knew, of course he knew what you were about to say—another step forward. “You said I should go all the way with someone I cherish, did you not?” One more step, and he was before you, looking at you as if you were destruction and salvation, wrapped into one, dangerous promise. “Then I will confess there is someone I hold very dear.”

The man was hanging onto your every word. “Is that so?” he whispered, husky from the anticipation.

“Yes.” You scoured his face, drinking in his curiosity, his impatience to hear your confession. “There is someone I wish to cross the final boundary with, but I was unsure at first whether he felt the same way.” It made you so giddy—you were once the image of anticipation, and now the ornate, pretending tables had turned. “You see, I had always stated so clearly what I felt, yet he did not say so himself, hiding his feelings from me.”

His explanation flew out of his lips without revision. “He did not mean to…he was afraid that you would never reciprocate what he…” his sigh was slight, yet it washed over you like a tidal wave. “What he felt so strongly.”

“Well,” you said, raising your hand. Your fingers brushed along his cheek, sliding to hold his face. His skin was warm, to your delight. “He should not hide it anymore. Not to me, at least.”

Joshua, in response, leaned into your palm, eyes heavy-lidded—raptured towards you. “You have always been dear to me, _____. Now, I stand before you, asking you to be dearer still.”

Your face crumpled at the words—the sight of your best friend and his request. There could only be one answer.

But you did not respond with words. No, your answer came in colliding your lips against his, finally catching him off guard.

His pained moan, ecstatic with relief, reverated off your lips, his hands clutching you, demanding respite from the weeks spent without touching you. Demanded, because Joshua had never ventured this close to you with such misery, never angled his head in such a way with you, bearing his soul to you in a state of anguish. You felt it all, and welcomed it so ardently you wondered how you had survived without him upon you this entire time.

Every single heated kiss he left in his trail, every ounce of longing unweighted at each stretch of unattended skin. He missed nothing, pouncing and pressing his lips where your skin sang at him to hearken near, and he was forever the pinnacle of obedience, fulfilling your wishes—his wishes. You understood nothing else, solely the warpath of his mouth, which set you ablaze as it pushed you back, spiralling you towards his desk.

“God—!” he could barely rasp out between his passion, descending upon your neck—“To think, I—” He was unable to finish, useless, time-consuming words devouring his chances to pounce upon you. Your skirts bunched at the back as they hit the rim of the desk, and your hands grabbed onto the sides for purchase, any sense of stability, but your hands were knocking off glasses, books without realising.

“Damned books,” he cursed, low and desperate, pulling away only to throw away whatever object dared to settle on the table, clattering to the floor in a mess, and you would have made a point of it had he not then grabbed onto your waist, hoisting you upon its polished wooden surface. “Still haunting me even now?”

“Books brought us to this—ah, situation—!” you could barely reason, his mouth back upon your throat, teething kisses upon your collarbone till he descended before you, holding loosely onto your sides. Quickly catching on, you barely contained your excitement as your own hands hitched your skirts up, gathering as much fabric as you could in your shaking hold.

It took mere seconds for you to uncover yourself before him, and the reminisces of each time he had been in this very position flashed before his hungering vision. You saw it, too, and the deep, dark curling inside your gut threatened to show itself.

He stared at your core, the slight sheen along your slit a recognition of his work. He glanced at you, fingers trailing down to your thighs. “You say the word, angel,” he whispered, “and we will stop. I follow only your will.”

That alone had you shaking your head. “My will, is it?” you asked, spreading your legs wider. “What if my will demands you never stop?”

The slight curl of his lips could have set you ablaze—truly. “I follow,” he began, leaning in, pressing a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, “only your will.”

He was a devout follower indeed—his first touches along your slit was enough for you to believe in him.

Your body reminded, you sighed at the familiar sensation, his tongue immediately licking up the arousal, present only for him to enjoy. He had worked wonders beyond your imagination the last time, but beforehand, there was all the time in the world for his endeavours. There was a task at hand, an expectation he had to uphold for you. There was a need to impress, a pressure which would not have been eased if you were unsatisfied.

This time was different. Joshua knew then, face buried within you, swirling his tongue, teasing, inciting you out of yourself, that he did not fall to his knees to merely impress you. This time, in the chaos of his lodgings, he fell to his knees to worship you. And his worship came in the form of his tongue swirling around your clit, languid as he commenced, eliciting sounds that had never touched the back of your throat, the tip of your tongue.

He was following your every internal command, every silent plea to keep going, never stop even if the Diamond’s men were to catch you—hell, Lady Whistledown herself would discover you both, and still you would never want this to end. He was so good, so relentless in his desire to please you. He sucked on the bud, tongue slipping through for added pleasure, and you thought you would die.

Your thoughts turned into certainty when he slid two fingers inside of you, and your stuttered moans was approval enough. “Joshua!” you gasped out, because his name was the only word that mattered, the only term able to grapple your desperation. Your core was filled with his digits, working in and out in a steady rhythm, feeling you out before increasing his pace. It was a miracle how he took not a single break in between, but you were the one gasping for breath.

Soon enough, you felt it—the all-too familiar sensation, curling at the small of your back, spreading slowly through your body the faster Joshua worked upon you. He had always deemed you goodness, purity incarnate, but he was the angel, venerating you in a way no religious believer could attain to. “J-Joshua, wait—” you began, your thighs constricting, the feeling creeping closer, dangerously close— “Wait, the feeling, it’s coming back—!”

But then his free hand, gripping your leg to keep you steady, squeezed in response—as if he knew. His rhythm increased again, mercilessly perfect to you, and you were certain the desk would shatter from the sheer might of Joshua’s efforts. Perhaps you would have cared in some faraway place, away from the chaos that reigned within this room. Here, with him under you, kneeling, pleasing you, you lost any will to care about consequences.

So, as the perfect gentleman sucked on your clit one last time, pumping his fingers inside you, you damned about caring and let yourself go.

With a whoosh of sharp breaths you orgasmed, thighs shaking without control, and you held onto his hair, uncaring if his locks ripped away in your hand. He slowed his ministrations, helping you through your release, relishing you undoing yourself on his fingers. If you were among the clouds, then he was dancing among the stars, watching you climax because of him.

Never did he think he would ever get used to you like this. His twisted admiration brought about his next action—he slithered out of you, and, as you looked down, lust-struck anyway, watched as he brought his slick fingers to his mouth, sucking away at the remnants.

Your stomach fluttered at the sigh. “God…” you got out, the victorious glint of his gaze turning your insides on themselves.

He clicked his tongue, slowly shaking his head as he ascended, eyes locked to yours. “Share a little admiration for me too, angel,” he whispered.

Whatever you felt for him, though, was no mere admiration.

You made sure he realised when you decided to share what he asked for, pressing your lips against his, your desire—shockingly—creeping back into your skin, seeping deeper until it infected your blood. How could it be so? Was not one wave of release enough to satiate you? Was there room for more?

You asked him yourself as you broke away, blinking back heavily as he stared at you, mouth parted, hands roaming. “There is more…is there not? We…this is not the end, right?”

His smile was enough—still, he made sure to tell you, as, swivelling you around, his fingers found the bows, untying your lace upon your everyday gown. His voice entered your mind, his mouth encircling just under your ear. “Oh, we are just getting started,” he whispered, making you shiver.

The tugging and pulling paid off for him, your dress loosening around your shoulders, your waist. As the outer layers fell to the floor, he then worked on the corset, patient as ever as he untied the tight laces at the back, all the while your impatience causing you to peel away at your petticoats. It did not help either that his lips were brushing against your neck, planting baby kisses upon your warming skin.

It was Joshua’s slow, steady nature that won when the corset fell apart too, and he turned you around, drinking you in—an unforgettable image of you in a mere chemise. Nothing was left to his imaginations, his dreams. An easy, uncontrollable fuck escaped his mouth, and it was at that point he then worked on himself. His undershirt was already in disarray, but when you sensed the slight shake in his fingers, unbuttoning with slight ineptitude as he focused on you still, your hands undid the rest of the buttons for him.

The moment his shirt was off, discarded on the floor, it was your turn—perhaps you would have spent an eternity simply staring at the lean figure that greeted you, but your fingers were powered more by curiosity than your eyes. You reached out, feeling his abdomen tighten at your touch, then relaxing instantly as you wandered across his skin. He let you explore, pulling you closer with his own hands, the distance bothering him. He did not want distance—not tonight.

Nor did you—you found his lips again, snuffing out any space, and so Joshua resorted to ridding himself of any more boundaries. Your chemise was an easy barrier to overcome, sliding it from your shoulders with ease, and it was a flurry of unadorning any piece of clothing left on you, him leading you to the four-poster bed at the end of his chamber.

As the back of your knees hit the edge, he swept you in his arms, a soft breath whooshing out of you as he set you gently upon his sheets. He swept his gaze over you, bare under him, and he realised why greed was a carnal sin. “God,” he got out, fingers absentmindedly working on his trousers, peeling away his only barrier from his legs, discarding it amongst the rest of your underthings.

When your eyes fell on Joshua’s cock, your mouth parted at its sight.

Sheer bewilderment threatened to engulf you whole. The curiosity that had been prevalent thus far was flaring up, at its highest peak since he had ignited it. Never before had you seen something like it, and you had a sneaking instinct to reach out and touch the head, already slightly darkened by the tension which refused to be released.

He could tell instantly. “You can touch it, angel,” he offered, though when you caught the slight tinge of blush upon his cheeks, your surprised giggling had him frowning. “I said touch, not laugh.”

“Forgive me,” you said, shuffling closer to him, “I did not expect you to be shy, that is all.”

He did not either—but the way you admired his cock before him was a sight too overwhelming, even for a man of his experience. He was going to say as much, but then your hand reached out, a finger stroking the head, and he hissed in a breath, brows furrowing instantly.

You furrowed your brows at it. “Does it hurt?” you asked, genuinely curious—concerned.

It had him chuckling, grabbing hold of his cock in one hand. “Quite the opposite,” he said, spreading your legs apart with a knee, placing himself between you as you wrapped your arms around him. “And it’ll only get better.”

Levelling his tip against your folds, you shifted your hips a little, blinking up at him. “Will it hurt for me?” you asked.

He looked down, his midnight curls falling over you, nearly caressing your forehead. “A little,” he confessed softly, “but I promise to be gentle.” When there was still a little hesitation, he brushed his nose against yours. “You trust me, right?”

You nodded—in that you were certain. He reflected it mildly, almost as if acknowledging the approval within himself. His gaze fell downwards, and he exhaled unevenly.

The moment he slid inside, you felt the world shift underneath you.

The bed became a raft of feathers and silk sheets, lost in a sea of your desire, straying with every inch the man descended within you. Your walls clenched at the new addition, at first unadjusted—Joshua was gradual, agonisingly slow, heightened in his focus to ease any discomfort. The further he slid the harder your breathing shuddered, a slight foolish fear that you would crumble under him. Your face was a distortion of clenched brows, clamped lips, which one point parted with a whine, and all he could do was watch the whirlwind of emotions.

Only once he bottomed out he exhaled sharply, observing you as his hand on your hip was fully secured. “You’re doing good for me, angel,” he whispered, and that was enough for the hairs at the back of your neck to stand on edge. He circled smooth strokes upon your hip with his thumb, waiting until you nodded—the last confirmation he needed.

With that, he began to pull out.

He wanted to watch his cock slowly slide out of you, but he heard your whimper and instantly set his eyes upon you. He could have cursed himself for nearly missing the sight of you, and he nearly made a mess of his languid movements out of sheer excitement.

You thought that his fingers would be enough. Foolishly, like a novice, you figured his tongue would gratify the carnal vessel inside you, but now he was inside you, and the fullness of his cock was so pleasurable you were scared nothing would ever surpass this feeling. He slithered out to the point of his tip barely inside your folds once more, and you were almost disappointed that it was finished, and that no more can be done. You were wishing for the feeling to ignite your insides once more, anything for your dearest friend to push himself within you again.

And he could see it—all of your wishes, your desires, etched onto your beautiful features like a mosaic of your confessions. He would listen—he would please.

He descended again, and with delightful surprise you found he had increased the pace ever so slightly, the languid nature of his movements melting the longer he gazed at you with fire in his eyes. The motion had you gasping, holding onto him tighter than his grip upon you. This time, as he pulled out, you ached to follow after his movements, chase after him, keep his length inside you.

The two of you established a steady rhythm, bodies syncing along to the heated movements between you and him. It was like a romantic hymn, the manner in which your bodies moulded together, in such physical perfection you wondered why you had not begged him to get you into bed with him sooner. It would have pained you, that so much time had been wasted in demure whispers and faux pretenses of courtship, when you could have spent such precious hours carding through his raven locks as you did now, matting with the sweat of his increasing labour.

“Joshua, I—!” you wished to tell him that you felt out of this world, paralysed in ecstasy over his actions, but he swooped down to teeth lovebites upon your neck, your collarbone, anywhere his hazed-vision would allow him. He trailed down till he found your breasts, and the feeling of his tongue licking away at your nipple was so extraordinary your moans were your only response. He was not close enough to you, even with his cock inside you, and he needed to be closer—skin to skin until the very oxygen that left him in shuddered exhales had no escape.

“Tell me,” he began, sweet as honey, as desperate as a sinner. “Tell me how you feel.”

But how could you tell him, when his every kiss, peppering along your chin now, dangerously close to your own lips, robbed you of any sense of response? “I feel…I—oh!” you gasped, when Joshua hit a certain spot inside you which stripped you of your speech. You blinked hurriedly at the sensation, and the moan that ripped from your mouth had him smirking like a madman. “Joshua!”

“Go on,” he rasped, slipping out, only to thrust back in, never quite pausing. “I’m waiting.”

Bastard. The worst of his kind, when he knew you could not say a thing. Still, you tried—attempted to convey yourself. “Good, so—ah, so good, Joshua—”

“Look at you,” he sighed out, another powerful thrust inside which had your groaning unutterable. “To look this…this exquisite when taking me—”

His words, his actions, all wrapped in one—it was becoming too much. You felt it, that sensation, the dark curling within your core that undid and remade you in seconds. “J-Joshua, wait, I think I’m close,” you panted, gripping onto his arms, anything to not stray from him, this bed which you feared you would lose yourself in.

Perhaps you would have said more, but then he brought his fingers to your clit, beginning to circle erratically at the bud, and the noise that came out of you was so shameful your first instinct was to gape at him in horror. His delight, however, had any embarrassment immediately disappearing.

He, too, felt closer to bliss than ever before. Ironic in a sense, that what they committed was celestially sinful, yet there was nothing more religious to him than you undoing yourself under him, with him inside you. The sounds of your pleasure, each sigh and whimper that greeted his ears like the music of the gods approving his efforts. He never considered himself a particularly faithful believer—but in this Diamond’s chamber, seeing you driven to such ecstasy had him believing that religion is not given, but sought after.

So that is what he did—sought after what he believed in within you.

“You’re too good to me angel,” he breathed into your ear, fingers on your clit circling faster and faster. “Taking my…fuck, my cock so well—!”

His focus would have faded in any other time, losing himself in you, your moans and broken prayers for him—God, he wanted to be selfish, just as he had warned you in this very room. How could he, though, when you—begging for him, and not for an exterior force—were so unbelievably ethereal he wondered why sinners ever repented.

Even though your pleas were enough to make him eternally satisfied, his selfishness, this carnal sin that he still could not constrain, overtook him, nipping at your ear before watching you squirm. “Properly, darling—fuck, need you to tell me properly.”

You could have cursed him—should have, when he was making you attempt the impossible. Because he made you feel as if you could conquer the earth, you humoured him. Begged him, even, to give you your final wish.

“Joshua, please!” you got out, digging your nails into his skin, hard enough you thought it might bruise. “Please, just do—whatever it is you do!”

He thought he was used to your pleases by now. Hearing them spill from your lips like sweet wine was another form of ecstasy he had not realised he had consumed, and found himself addicted to.

Joshua Hong was made of many things, but he was—first and foremost—a man made to please you.

It was a fated continuation—destiny, if he wished to be so bold. He hoped, as he pounded into you, fastened his fingers upon your clit to the point of no return, you began to believe in some divine intervention too.

And you did. As you felt the final threads of your patience snap, you believed it in something greater for the two of you. You refused to contain yourself, whimpering out as your release crashed over you, uncontrollable and blinding, body shaking around him. It was the last straw for him, just about yanking his cock out of you before he, too, lost all semblance of control. His orgasm stained the lavish sheets of his bed, groaning at the result—at what you had made of him. Completely spent, he collapsed beside you, his heavy, laboured breathing accompanying yours.

You, however, found yourself shuddering your breaths much harder than him. There was no turning back now. What you and Joshua did…this was the final boundary, crossed with heated confessions. Were you both foolish? You would have been unsure in the past.

His words refused to leave you in peace. Damn you, you have set my very soul on fire! And then another confession flashed. My desire for you, my longing for you…it has awakened something in me, a feeling which is stronger than our friendship—

You have always been dear to me, _____. Now, I stand before you, asking you to be dearer still.

“Did you mean it?”

The question was out of your mouth before you realised. You brought a hand to your mouth as Joshua turned his head, locks curling in the humidity. “Mean what?”

You could not meet his gaze. “You know…everything you said about your longing…stronger than our friendship…and then asking me to be dearer.”

Because you shied from his stare, you did not catch the growing smile that blossomed on his face. “You ask for a confirmation after what we have just done?”

Your face burned at his words, refusing to answer him. Even more amused, he shifted closer to you, propping his head upon his palm, elbow digging deeper within the pillows. “Look at me, _____.”

You did not have to be told twice—you observed him in his sweated, naked glory, half-covered by the sheets. “The things that I said to you before all of this…not a single word was a lie. Of course, I value our friendship very much, even with what has happened between us. Nothing can ever change what we share…have shared for years.”

It was beyond your control, the smile that began to form upon your lips. “I admit that I was scared. I did not know how you would react, especially since last week.”

“I must apologise for my reactions, then,” he said, a little sheepish. “I did not wish to ruin something so important to me…and after today, I do not ever want to tamper with what we have.”

You thought imprisoning you with his stare was enough, but then his words caged you to him forever. “You see, I do not think I can live without you. That is why I ask whether you wish to be dearer to me…more so than ever before.”

As you looked at him—your once dear, now dearest friend, who had shown you wonders in and out of this relationship—you brought a hand to his face, sketching a little dream on his cheek.

“I think you have my answer, Joshua,” you whispered, soft and barely there.

But the man, hanging onto your every word, heard you perfectly. Breaking into a grin, you allowed yourself a small reward, all for yourself to enjoy as you swooped in, adding to his mirth with a kiss.

And as he delved deeper, indulging you, he showed you exactly how he felt about your answer, unspoken but felt throughout your body, in that very room.

ONCE AGAIN—AND ONE HAD TO ADMIT, WAS BECOMING A LITTLE TEDIOUS—SOONYOUNG’S BALL HOUSED HALF OF THE CITY INSIDE HIS HALLS.

If one thought his soirées were crowded, then the ball was another matter entirely—the cacophony of music, laughter and heated complaints from each and every individual strolling around was prevalent, all engulfing your ears. It should be prohibited to know so many people—how can one ever keep up?

Lord Joshua Hong, however, had no interest in the general public his friend had invited. Rather, he only required the attention of a few men who had managed to attend at the same time.

“For the last time, what is this news that has you gathering us all like sheep?” The eldest of them demanded once again, falling on deaf ears.

Once Joshua dropped his announcement to the intended audience before him, every single man had a different reaction.

Soonyoung had already expected it, all smiles and clapping his hands together in glee, while Chan, standing right beside him, shared in his enthusiasm. Wonwoo, settled on the opposite end, raised his brows in surprise, whilst the man in the middle—the one Joshua made the announcement for in the first place—tilted his head as he inspected the news.

“_____?” Seungcheol inquired, exposing certain interest. “But I thought you two were merely friends.”

“We were…we still are,” he agreed, locking his hands behind his back. “But I have seen her in a new light.”

“What changed, then?” Chan asked, curious. “I still remember you defending your friendship with her when all of us doubted your intentions.”

“Perhaps we were right to doubt them in the first place,” Wonwoo murmured, which had Joshua narrowing his eyes at him.

“Do not mind the pity party amongst us,” Soonyoung assured, waving off the playwright’s words, “what matters is if you truly care for her.”

At that, a certain glow flushed over the man’s face, and the members watched the slight, positive shift. “Always. I do not think that ever stopped…ever will stop.”

Chan and Soonyoung exchanged knowing glances, thoroughly amused by the sentiment. Seungcheol, on the other hand, crossed his arms, still a little unsatisfied. “You have not answered Chan’s question. What was the turning point? I cannot imagine a friendship of years changing before the season has even started.”

“Is he not allowed his privacy?” Wonwoo interjected as he took off his spectacles, cleaning the glass with his sleeve. “God knows you have interrogated enough of us to never court again.”

“You never have any lady to court anyway,” the youngest of them murmured, which only had the accused sighing, setting his glasses back upon the bridge of his nose. “At least Joshua has someone.”

“I do…” He looked down at his boots, his swept-up brown hair curling around his forehead. “And to answer your question, I cannot fully say because that is between me and her.”

“Oh, you are no fun!” Soonyoung bellowed, as if he was not aware of the entire façade. “Can you not tell your dearest friends?”

But Joshua only smiled knowingly, a twinkle in his eye at the mention of such a term. “That is where you are wrong,” he said, bringing his one hand to his chest, where his heart beat with striking pace—more so as he mentioned you. “Because I already have a dearest friend, and I intend to marry her.”

Finally, the reaction was unanimous—shock spread through the members, and the announcer had to fight back a chuckle at the widened eyes and open mouths. “Marriage?” Soonyoung repeated, almost floating in the clouds. “I never thought I’d hear the word from you!”

“Diabolical coming from Soonyoung,” Chan drawled, earning a shove from the eccentric. “This is wonderful news, though, Joshua! I offer you my most sincere congratulations.”

“So you are to settle down, then,” Seungcheol declared. He walked over to him, eyes raking over his face—attempting to catch him out, see if there is any sense of ridicule, contempt even. When he saw the purest form of hope residing in his friend’s eyes, he let himself smile. “Well, you could not have chosen better for yourself.”

“Wow, Cheol’s approval, of all the congratulations to receive?” Chan then followed suit, hand on his hair in surprise. “Is it my turn to find a wife, too?”

“The child is not marrying before the rest of us,” Soonyoung taunted, “or else I am sabotaging his wedding.”

“You truly are a darling friend, are you not, bastard?”

“Call me a bastard again, and I am revoking any chance for you to act in my productions!”

The apparent child rolled his eyes. “I see less producing, more philandering in that theatre!”

As the two began to bicker amongst themselves, Seungcheol patting Joshua once more for his suitable choice of bride, the latter turned his eyes towards the sole member, who stayed silent. Excusing himself to the eldest, he strolled over to the man, who pretended to clean his spectacles once more. “Wonwoo,” he called to him, instantly putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Joshua,” he responded, looking only at his glasses.

The said-man did not tear his gaze from his friend. “You do not seem so thrilled.”

That immediately had the playwright glancing up, face crumpling in slight guilt. “No, no, I am! Forgive me, I…I am thrilled…truly.”

The accuser furrowed his brows, not quite rid of his suspicions. He would have made a comment on it, but then Soonyoung made an excited noise, catching the sight of his most important guest. Wonwoo looked beyond his inquirer. “Ah, look,” he said, jerking his head towards the new arrival. “She has arrived…just in time.”

Sure enough, there you were, a vision for his eyes as you greeted guests, your own focus wavering as you scanned the crowd for your intended. “Go to her,” Joshua heard his friend say, and as he looked at him, the spectacled man patted his arm. “I hope you are happy together.”

As the playwright turned on his heel, Joshua turned to you, gravitating his steps towards where you stood. He could sense your slight discomfort at the amount of people attending the ball. Perhaps if the last few weeks had not happened, you would have opted to escape.

Except thankfully, they had occurred, changing your life forever. The life-changer was there before you, an almost-skip in his stroll as he approached you, delving away from his usual group. “Joshua!” you called to him, instantly walking up to him.

Usually, if circumstances were more private, you would have jumped upon him, savoured the warmth of his broad arms underneath many layers. Unfortunately, since the entire city was packed inside of the halls, one touch out of the borders of propriety would have scandalised you both without a chance of redemption. The man said so himself, chuckling as he instead took hold of your hand. “Careful,” he began, raising it to chin-level, “or the rest of the ton would revolt against us.”

As he kissed the back of your hand, the sensation lingered to your delight. You thought he would let go, but his fingers remained intertwined. “The next waltz is to begin soon,” he said, already leading you in the middle.

“Oh? You were not so eager to be on the dance floor before,” you teased, smiling as your eyes first glanced at your intertwined hands, and then climbing up to his face. “I wonder what the sudden change is.”

“I may have believed in your innocence before, angel,” he drawled, snaking an arm around your waist, “but you are not fooling me this time.”

“Worth a try,” you chuckled out, propping your free hand upon his shoulder. The musicians, situated at the ends of the ballroom, hoped to begin their lively tune, and instantly couples began to form, aligning themselves with their partners to commence.

With the beginning of the music, you and Joshua began to move. He led you with an ease quite different from his previous dances. You felt it yourself—whenever you had watched him, danced with him, he was always controlled, careful. Now, there was a semblance of it that faded—as if the comfort had washed over his need for excellence. As if you were enough for him.

The feeling itself had not faded for you both—that you and him were quite perfect for each other, and how you and he had managed to miss it for years. Not that you had yearned for anything with him romantically in all the time you had known him, but to have him now, after so long…you wondered how you had functioned so normally.

A comforting voice lulled you out of your mind. “A penny for your thoughts,” he said.

“I was thinking about us,” you confided, your every step with your partner in perfect harmony with his. “And how we came together this season, and not any year prior.”

“Ah, yes,” he reminisced, slowly spinning you along to the music. “You pried into my journal, and thus entrapped me with your charms!”

You squeezed his hand, smirking at his claims. “You are no boy, Joshua. You could have easily renounced my wishes.”

“That is where you are wrong,” he said, drumming his fingers upon your back. “I could never refuse you.”

You would have said something, but his actions had spoken for him. The sole action you had left was to fight back a smile, trying to avert your gaze from him but to no avail. “You cannot escape me anymore, angel,” he declared, a feline curve of his lips rising, and you fought the butterflies that erupted even now, after all this time.

As the music progressed, heightening to a point, the two of you enjoyed the ambience, each other’s company being your only distraction amongst the sea of gossip. Lady Whistledown had announced your courtship to the ton, and consequently everyone and their curious mamas wished to inquire about its origins, and whether it would succeed.

Lord Joshua Hong would make it that he was successful. As he had said to you—you could not be so easily rid of him, when you had changed the inner workings of his system. What he was, what he called himself…these aspects ceased to exist now that you had delved into him. To have a friend was one thing, but to possess a relationship with his greatest, dearest friend he had ever known was a privilege he had never thought capable of earning.

He would be damned if he were to let go of such a rarity—if he would not progress it into something more.

“I must ask for the penny back,” you said, bringing him out of his mind. “You looked as if you were thinking up a masterpiece.”

His growing smirk had your familiar butterflies threatening to fly out of your skin. “I was thinking of something…something I hope you would rather like.”

“Judging by that awful expression, I am more fearful than excited,” you drawled, which only had him shaking his head at you. “Go on then, enlighten me with this supposed idea.”

“You know how you always expressed your wish to see the Diamond’s?” He saw you part your mouth, and instantly tutted, refusing to be interrupted. “Yes, yes, you have seen it now, but I mean…in terms of seeing a side of me that I had not shown previously.”

“Do you mean to tell me you are still hiding yourself from me?” you demanded, twisting your lips in a frown. “After everything we have done together.”

“I forgot how impatient you are,” he mumbled, squeezing your hand. “No, my dear, I hide nothing. If anything, I wish to show you more of myself…if you let me.”

You kept staring, an inquisitive brow rising. “In what manner?”

“Well, I said it to you before, but I really enjoyed travelling beyond London’s borders…journeying through Paris, witnessing remnants of the Italian renaissance, sailing around the Greek islands…you see, I truly was a different man when I was off this island.” As he twirled you around, always in tune to the rhythm, he caught your waist in perfect harmony. “I was hoping to show you that part of me, too.”

“And how will you achieve that?” you asked, filled with doubt.

He looked at you. “Why, you will come with me, of course!” he declared, as if it was the most sensible answer.

You rolled your eyes at him. “I am not even allowed to step outside of Mayfair, let alone this country.” You then sighed through your nose, looking down at your heeled-shoes, ensuring a steady rhythm. “Despite our friendship, even our courtship, there is no way we could ever travel together.”

You heard his voice—the soft utterances which made an effort to sooth you. “In that you are right. We can never journey far away together…as long as we are friends.”

And as the violins tuned into another grand act, rising to the shrill climax of the dance, Joshua Hong allowed himself to risk pulling you closer to him—enough to garner your attention.

“But we can…as husband and wife.”

Your feet stopped dancing. A novice mistake, when the couples all around you never stopped, still continuing, but with a partner like yours, you avoided any accidents, his strong hands never allowing you to fall. Even so, your expression slipped—threatening to crash. “Wh-what did you say?”

The music was surrounding you, filling the entire ballroom, but only one presence threatened to engulf you.“I once said to you that my feelings were stronger than our friendship. I meant it. I could not survive without you before, but to even think of living my life, spending my future without you residing in it…it is impossible.”

The smile on his face had you almost forgetting to dance altogether. “Say you will marry me, angel. I have you as my friend, but I hope…dream to be your husband.”

It was then you felt your bodies slow, the melody, so sharp and harmonious, settling over the hall. Applause erupted from everyone, attempting to snap you out of your bubble, but the man’s words—his proposal, of all things—had caged you in its anticipation for an answer.

To marry Joshua Hong—Viscount Hastings, member of the esteemed Diamond’s club of Mayfair—was many women’s dream. To attain his title, become Viscountess alongside him, bear his heirs, relish in his good fortune; it was the symbol of success for any woman in hopes to lead a luxurious life.

For you, this was a change. A complete turnaround, a monumental shift in the relationship you had built with him for over two decades. Marrying him meant that he was another person to you entirely. Men always promise consistency, but matrimony had a habit of insisting change when one resisted it.

As the applause died down, the couples beginning to disperse, you stayed frozen still, your hand rooted upon his own, and his shoulder. It was at this moment Joshua’s anticipation began to take a toll from the shock painted upon your face. “_____?”

“Come…come with me,” was your mere answer, not waiting to hear his response as you left his hold, hurrying towards the exit. Because you knew him well, you foresaw his immediate reaction, following after you out of the hall.

Yes, marriage has always been a boon for most women. Lady Whistledown had complained about it to the point of souring any reader’s disposition about the subject—if the men were not enough already.

You sauntered through the all-too familiar halls, flashbacks of that particular evening haunting you as you took the stairs, your friend’s boots thumping behind you upon each step. You heard him call your name, but you did not respond, simply taunting him with a quicker stride.

Indeed, marriage would bring about an irreversible change between you and Joshua. But you had already shifted the dynamics of your friendship, the moment you witnessed what could not be seen, kissed what could not be even touched. You had already crossed every boundary without shame, and although there was a struggle, you had come so far—with him at every step of the way.

Only when you finally slipped through the study door the pursuer caught hold of you, catching hold of the door as he let himself in. “If you wish to refuse me, at least spare me the suffering of anticipation.”

He then saw you slowly grinning, and his confusion grew twice over. “_____?”

You leaned closer, enough to close the door behind him. “Do you trust me?”

His first reaction was to gape at you. Then, his eyes finally darted at the surroundings, the familiarity of the room, the circumstances. He found himself scoffing, his eyes dancing. “Without question.”

And that was enough for you to accept him. You collided your lips against his, wrapping your arms around him, and his relieved moan slipped through as he pulled you closer, smiling against your mouth. He found you divine upon him, more so with your acceptance, relishing the adoration that poured from you, the delight that he savoured shamelessly.

He would have delved further, swirled his tongue along with yours had you not broken away, inhaling sharply as you looked up at him. “See how quickly this could have happened the last time?”

His breathless scoff fanned your face. “Oh, you are cruel.” His fingers wandered at your sides. “You brought me here to do this, didn’t you?”

“Smart man.” Your hands played with the collar of his shirt. “Perhaps you will be a good husband after all.”

“Merely good?” he rested his forehead against yours. “I will be as perfect a husband as I was a friend.”

You mocked a seething sigh. “Is it too late to retract my acceptance, I wonder?”

“Do not even jest!” he groaned, “I was half-scared you were going to reject me on the dance floor!”

You offered a mischievous smile. “I wanted to show you how happy I was with your proposal. Now, if I had kissed you with everyone to see, how would that have fared?”

He wanted to, but could not argue against your logic. “How about you keep showing me how happy you are, then?”

Giggling, you brought your fingers upwards, cupping his face. “You dreamed of being my husband?”

He held onto your wrist, leaning into your hold. “I told you, did I not? Even if we are married, you will still be my dearest friend. I cannot…cannot live without you.”

There was nothing but adoration, staining the features of your expression. You gave into your wants, your very needs as you kissed him again, this time laced with such longing that Joshua let out a satisfied noise, tilting his head to incite your pleasure.

And as you both mirrored the familiar position of that very night, when everything changed for the better, you thanked the fates that you came upon his journal, let your curiosity guide you. You thanked your quest for knowledge, your need to know everything about the man before you.

Most importantly, you thanked the fates for Joshua—the rake of the ton, esteemed member of the infamous gentlemen’s club for looking past his reputation, the rules of society. For satiating your curiosity, for igniting a desire you never thought capable of yourself.

Because that was what Joshua Hong was. He may have been many things, but to you, he would always be your oldest, dearest friend—and now, your companion till the very end.

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @smiileflower @ourkivee @alyssa19123456 @xylatox @lexyraeworld @fancypeacepersona @tjjth @zezedoesshit @ochidize @sankriin @okiedokrie-main @reiofsuns2001 @gyuguys @livixxn @livelaughloveseventeen @peepeepoopooharrie @shinaely @uhdrienne @maple249 @tomodachiii @miniskirtmods

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong smut #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt smut #svt x reader #joshua hong x reader #seventeen hard hours #seventeen x reader #joshua imagines #joshua smut #joshua x reader #joshua hong #svt scenarios #blurring the lines tings

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kwanisms · 3 months ago

Text

HELP! My Neighbor is an Alien a Porn Star — h.joshua

Neighbors come and go and for Y/N, this is inevitable. Which is why she never bothered to get to know her neighbors. She owns her townhouse while the two on either side of her are rentals. When a new neighbor moves in, she doesn’t think much of it until she sees the extremely attractive and single man moving in next door. She learns his name is Joshua and that there’s more than meets the eye; a whole lot more. alien!Joshua × fem!Reader

» back || m.list || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT 13k (i'm not sorry anymore lol) ❑ WARNINGS — adult dialogue, female reader, sex work, mentions of: food & alcohol consumption, aliens, porn, cam work; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! ❑ CONTENT — fluff (in the form of comedy), smut (hella); sex work, porn industry, neighbors to lovers; non idol au, alien au, porn star au ❑ NOTES — this is my submission for @ddeonghwa-s cupid event. Hello, hello @shuadotcom it is I! Your cupid! This was so much fun to write and the premise was so fun to come up with! I hope you like your alien!Joshua! I love this concept so much and I could definitely be convinced to return to this in the future. This is not proofread because I didn’t have time 😭a huge thank you to @wooahaeproductions jupiter, @facethesunflower (+hubby) for helping coming up with the usernames. y'all are hilarious and wild. and thank you all for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: voyeurism, watching porn/cam show, masturbation (male receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (do not do. especially with an alien), sex with an alien (lol), joshua has an alien cock (which is described in full detail so enjoy that image), use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), mild degradation, praise (f receiving), joshua’s precum is an aphrodisiac (pretty cool tbh. aliens are fun to write) so there’s that and also cum eating??, choking (f receiving), and I think that’s all of them lol but of course, let me know if I missed anything!

One of the things that came with living in the suburbs was neighbors but for you, getting to know them was never a priority. Owning your townhome meant you were a constant in the neighborhood while your neighbors were not. The townhomes on either side of you were rental properties with a plethora of families coming and going depending on how long the lease was.

Despite not taking the time to get to know them, you still made a conscious effort to be a good neighbor, never causing problems or resolving any that popped up. Most of the neighbors you had were families with young children or young couples still in the first few years of marriage. There were the occasional single professionals that moved in but they were far and few between.

So when you woke up one morning and headed down to make a cup of coffee before clocking into your work from home job, the sight of the box truck parked outside the house wasn’t a surprise. You walked over to the large bay window, spreading the slats of the blinds to peer outside.

The box truck must have pulled up while you were still upstairs as the back was now open and workers were moving briskly to unload items from the back. As you watched, you wondered who your new neighbor was going to be. Would it be another family like the last ones? Or maybe a couple of young professionals.

Letting the slats fall back in place, you turned from the window to go about your day, heading into your downstairs office off the main entry and shutting the doors to close off the rest of the home from your working space. You took a seat at the desk, setting your coffee on its designated coaster and powered up your dual screen pc. While it booted up, you sipped on your coffee, eyes occasionally drifting to the window where you could still see some of the movers unloading boxes and furniture.

The jingle of your computer home screen loading drew your attention back to the task at hand: work.

The rest of your morning consisted of checking emails, starting on reports and reviewing itineraries. It wasn’t a glamorous job but it afforded you a comfortable living and to pay your bills while also adding to your savings and being able to spend money on your hobbies.

When it was lunch time, you broke away from your screen and picked up your phone, scrolling through the various delivery options before deciding on something that sounded good and was relatively close. You placed your order and decided to leave your office and check to see if the mail had arrived.

Upon opening the door, you could see that the box truck was still parked but that the movers seemed to be finishing up. Walking down the steps from your porch, you glanced over to the townhouse that had sat vacant until today. Amongst the movers who wore khaki uniforms of short sleeve button downs and black pants, was a man who was dressed entirely different.

You opened your gate, stepping out to the cluster of mailboxes you found the mail had indeed come. You quickly opened yours with your key, pulling out the various envelopes, sneaking glances at your new neighbor as he spoke to who you could only assume was the boss of the movers. He had black hair, pushed back off his forehead.

He wore a simple white tee shirt, light wash jeans, and a pair of sneakers. He looked relatively ordinary. As you shut your mailbox door, you moved back to your gate, opening it. At the sound of the gate latch, the man looked in your direction. You quickly averted your eyes and made your way back to your steps.

You chanced a glance at the man, finding his attention was back on the moving company boss. You returned to the safety and privacy of your home, mail clutched against your chest as you shut your door. You shook yourself and headed into your office, grumbling about looking and feeling like an idiot.

It wasn’t like you weren’t supposed to be there. This was your neighborhood, too. You were perfectly within your rights to collect your mail and it was only natural that you would be curious about the new neighbor moving in. So why did you feel so strange?

You didn’t have much time to dwell on it as the sound of your doorbell made you jump, the letter in your hands you were about to open flying through the air and landing on your desk. You mentally scolded yourself for being so jumpy and got up, moving to the front door where you peered through the glass, shifting the small curtain to find the delivery driver with your food.

You opened the door, collecting your lunch with a ‘thanks’ and a generous tip before retreating once more into your home and carrying the takeout to your kitchen.

After lunch, you returned to your office, sorting through your mail before clocking back in for the rest of your shift. As the day wound down, you finalized your reports and submitted them before checking in for an end of the day meeting. It wasn’t a long meeting, fortunately, and you mostly just had to listen, occasionally giving your input before you were finally released and allowed to clock out.

After powering down your computer for the day, you left the office, heading into the kitchen to get started on making dinner. It was a mostly quiet affair, listening to one of your favorite scary story podcasts while you cooked a simple meal.

Once finished, you sat down to eat, continuing your podcast and listening to the narrator tell stories about the horrors of backpacking through Appalachia, something you would never do solely because of the stories you’d heard. Not that being outdoors was really much of your thing. You were more of an inside cat.

After eating and cleaning up, you made sure the downstairs was locked up and headed up to your bedroom, drawing yourself a nice, relaxing bath with the rest of your open bottle of wine. The bath was less about getting clean and more about relaxing as it was thankfully the weekend and you were now allowed to hide away in your home for two days before returning to the office on Monday morning.

As you soaked in the tub, you thought about your new neighbor. Was he the only one living in that big house? Did he have a family? A partner? Children? Answers that you would definitely not learn tonight but surely you would meet him in passing at some point. Perhaps you would find out then.

Then again, you never really made much of a conscious effort before to get to know your neighbors on more than a surface level, sharing names and basic information like job titles and pleasantries. You’d never invited a neighbor over for dinner nor had been invited over. You preferred it that way.

You had friends, you weren’t looking for any more.

The next day, you slept in, enjoying the warmth of your nest of pillows and cocoon of blankets for as long as you could before your subconscious nagged at you to finally get up and start the day. On a normal day, you would be up by 6 am, making breakfast or taking a shower before you had to clock into work at 8 am. Today however, you slept in until 9 before guilt wracked you for wasting the morning.

You went about your day, making a simple breakfast of eggs, sausage, and some sauteed vegetables. You downed your breakfast with some coffee before deciding today you would get your shopping done. Every weekend, you stocked up on groceries that were running low. After getting ready and donning more appropriate clothing, you ventured into your garage, located on the backside of your townhouse and got into your car.

The drive to the nearest market wasn’t long and you enjoyed the mostly empty streets and mild weather by singing and dancing along to your playlist. Drumming your fingers against the steering wheel to the beat and bobbing your head, you pulled into the parking lot of the market, pulling into a space and putting your car into park before shutting off the engine.

As you got out, you grabbed your bag of reusable totes from the trunk of your car and headed for the door, grabbing a cart and pulling out your list, kept conveniently on your phone. Walking up and down the aisles, you grabbed the items from your list, marking them off as you set them down in the basket.

As you rounded up your shopping, your phone started to vibrate in your hands and you checked the screen, seeing the face of your best friend along with her contact name. A smile crept over your face as you slid the bar across the bottom of the screen to answer, holding the device up to your ear.

“Hi Jiji,” you said softly. “Y/N! Where are you? I’m at your house and —” You let out a sigh as you maneuvered your cart, one-handed, through the store towards the check out area. “Jiji,” you said, trying to hide your exasperation. “I’m at the store. You know you’re supposed to tell me when you’re coming over before you get there, right?” you asked as you got into the queue to wait for an available terminal.

“I know,” your best friend started. “I was in the neighborhood and —”

Your brows furrowed at your best friend’s obvious lie. “You’re never just in the neighborhood, Youngji,” you countered. “Don’t pull that with me.” You heard her click her tongue impatiently. “Okay, you’re right but that’s not why I’m calling. When were you going to tell me you got a new neighbor?” You rolled your eyes as you neared the start of the queue.

“When I saw you tonight,” you answered. “Like a normal person would.” There was silence on the other end. “Oh… well, when will you be home?” she asked, sounding like a bored child. “I’m in line to check out,” you explained. “I have another errand to run and then I’ll be home.” You heard Youngji whine on the other side of the line. “Just let yourself in,” you said with a chuckle. “You know where the spare key is.”

You heard Youngji fumble with something. “Oh you’re right. Let me make sure no one is watching,” she murmured before you heard movement. “Got it!” she said triumphantly. You could hear the sound of her putting the key into the lock and the click of the latch as it unlocked. The sound of the door opening and shutting came over the line before you heard her turn the lock.

“I’m in,” she said in a whisper. “I’m gonna raid your fridge,” she added. You snorted as one of the checkout terminals opened up and you pushed your cart towards it. “It’s empty, so good luck,” you said as you started to unload your times. “I’m checking out now,” you announced as you heard the fridge open. “Boo, you suck,” Youngji whined. “Goodbye,” you continued and hung up, pocketing your phone.

As you continued to scan your items, you glanced up, eyes landing on the person at the self checkout machine across from yours. It was him. Your new neighbor. He glanced up, meeting your eyes. Your cheeks burned at being caught and you quickly offered a polite smile before returning your attention back to scanning and bagging your items.

You could feel his eyes on you and when you glanced back up, you saw them still looking at you as he scanned his own items, bagging them without looking. Seeing him this close, you could see that his eyes were a striking ombre of yellow and green and it caused your breath to catch in your throat. Either he had some really kick ass contact lenses, or he wasn’t human.

Upon meeting your gaze, he offered a mischievous smile, one where you could see that his teeth were slightly off, and definitely not human. The canines were too sharp and a little too long. You lowered your eyes and finished scanning your items, placing them into the reusable bags.

You quickly pulled out your loyalty card, scanning it and hoping for some deals before you started to finish up your transaction. Following the on screen prompts, you pressed the buttons for payment and card before holding your card over the reader until it beeped. Once your receipt printed out, you put your bags into your cart and pushed it away from the check out, not sparing another glance back.

Out in the parking lot, you returned to your vehicle, popping the trunk and placing your bags into the back before shutting the lid and pushing your cart into the cart return area. As you turned, you nearly ran into a cart pushed by none other than your new neighbor who had the same mischievous smirk on his face. “Pardon me,” he said, his voice lower and more honeyed than you were expecting. It simultaneously sent chills up your spine but also sent a wave of calm over you.

He was definitely not human.

“Apologies,” he added as you stepped aside, allowing him to push his cart into the slot behind yours. “D-don’t worry about it,” you stammered as he turned to look at you, those same piercing eyes looking back at you. “I should be going,” you added, taking a step backwards. “You’re my neighbor, aren’t you?” he asked, leaning casually against the metal fence surrounding the cart return.

You nodded slowly as he looked at you. “Y-yeah,” you said breathlessly. A smile spread across his face before he held his hand out for you to shake. “Joshua,” he said in what you assumed was an introduction. You hesitantly took his hand, feeling the heat radiating off him. “Y/N,” you responded in a much softer voice than you intended.

Just as quickly as he took your hand and shook it, he let go, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, putting an emphasis on your name. You couldn’t deny, you liked the way your name sounded when he said it. “You too, Joshua,” you answered. He tilted his head like a curious puppy. “So,” he started, taking a step forward, closer, towards you.

“Do you live alone?”

His question seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you seemed to be in and now that the allure of his smile was no longer clouding your judgement, your entire body was screaming at the danger it sensed. “No,” you lied. Joshua stopped to stare at you. “You don’t live alone?” he asked curiously. You shook your head. “No,” you answered again. “I have a –” you trailed off. What lie could you get away with. A roommate? A parent? A boyfriend? At some point he might notice if no one else showed up.

“Cat,” you finally said. ‘What the fuck?’ Joshua’s confused expression morphed into amusement. “Ahh, a cat.” You mentally scolded yourself. ‘What the fuck was that? How the hell is that going to deter anyone? A fucking cat???’ You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, a cat.”

Silence fell over the two of you before you finally broke it.

“Well, I should be going. Nice to meet you!” you said quickly before turning and making a beeline for your car. “Nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he called. You quickly unlocked your car and got in, shutting and locking the doors before fighting with your seatbelt. Once it clicked into place, you started the car, checking the coast was clear before hastily pulling out of the space and hurrying out of the parking lot as fast as you could without hurting anyone or violating any laws.

Your second errand only took a few minutes and soon, you were pulling into your garage, the door shutting behind you as you got out of your car and started unloading your groceries. Entering your home, you heard the subtle sounds of the TV and deposited your bags on the kitchen island. Turning around, you found Youngji lounging on your couch, remote in hand as she flipped through the channels.

“Welcome home, dear,” she called jokingly from her spot. “How was your day?”

You grimaced as you removed your jacket and moved to hang it up in the small hall near your garage entrance and kicked off your shoes, opting for your house slippers instead. You returned to the kitchen and started unpacking your groceries. “If you’re going to pretend like you live here, you can at least help me put the groceries away,” you said, looking over at her.

Youngji turned off the TV, tossing the remote onto the cushion beside her before getting up with a groan and making her way into your kitchen, wearing a pair of guest slippers. “Did you bring me any snacks?” she asked as she peered into one of the bags. You lightly tapped her on the head with an unopened plastic jar of grated parmesan.

“No snooping,” you said as you continued to pull everything out. “Just unload.”

As she helped, you chatted, talking about your respective weeks. As you started to put your things away, Youngji hopped up onto the kitchen counter, handing you things. “So,” she started as she handed you an unopened bottle of your favorite wine. “Your new neighbor.”

You stood up straight, taking the bottle from her and looking up at her nervously. “What about them?” you asked as nonchalantly as you could, bending over to lay the bottle of wine on its side on the bottom shelf of the fridge. “Have you met them?” Youngji asked as you stood up straight. “Yeah,” you answered vaguely. “I met him.” Youngji’s expression lit up.

“Him? As in singular man? Living next door?”

You looked up at her, noticing the excitement in her eyes. “No,” you said, pointing at her with your finger. “Don’t look at me like that!” Youngji pouted instantly as you continued putting away your perishables. “Oh come on!” she whined as you shut the refrigerator door. “Is he single?” she asked as you moved to start putting away the pantry items.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully. “I didn’t ask.”

Youngji hopped down and moved to lean against the wall next to the pantry opening, arms crossed over her chest. “You met him but didn’t talk about the basics?” she asked. You looked at her as you set a new bag of rice on the shelf. “We didn’t really have a chance to talk,” you admitted. “I met him at the store while I was checking out.”

Youngji narrowed her eyes. “Is that why you hung up on me?” she accused. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I hung up on you because I needed both hands to scan my items and put them away. Stop jumping to conclusions,” you added. Youngji stuck her tongue out at you as you finished putting the groceries away.

“Well, what’s he like?” Youngji asked as you moved to grab the non-food items to put away. She followed you through the house as you put away your laundry detergent in the laundry room. She continued to follow you as you took your toiletry refills upstairs to your linen closet.

“His name is Joshua,” you offered when she asked for his name. “That’s as much as I got.” Youngji wandered behind you as you led the way back downstairs. “No job?” she asked. You turned to face her as you reached the kitchen. “I didn’t get to ask and he didn’t offer the information.”

Youngji frowned as you opened the fridge and started to pull out the things you needed to make dinner. Your best friend moved to sit at the kitchen island. “So,” she started as you grabbed the necessary pans and set them on the counter. “What’s for dinner, boss?”

Dinner was a regular affair, sipping on wine as the pasta boiled and chicken cooked. Youngji was great company and always knew how to keep the conversation going, cracking jokes and telling amusing tales of her coworkers’ antics.

After finishing your early dinner, you headed upstairs to get changed and ready to go out. It was Saturday night and twice a month, you accompanied Youngji out to the city to visit her favorite club and let loose. You opted for a fitted, black dress that hugged your curves and fell just above your knees. Paired with the only pair of red bottom shoes you owned and a simple black clutch, you joined your best friend downstairs to put on your shoes and grab your jackets while you waited for the rideshare to arrive.

Youngji had donned a similar fitted dress but in white with a different neckline and long sleeves, over which she wore a black denim cropped jacket and wore black pumps with silver heels. Her clutch, which was a cross body with a chain strap, hung off her shoulder and the body of the purse was a vibrant red. You’d gone more subtle on your makeup but Youngji had, as always, gone bold with a dark smokey eye and nude lip.

Your uber arrived shortly after and Youngji led the way out of your house, letting you close and lock the door behind you. The black, four door sedan had tinted windows but the driver in the front seat matched the picture on the app, as did the license plate. You followed your best friend into the backseat, settling into the black leather interior.

The ride to the club wasn’t far but took longer with the traffic as you neared the heart of the city. As the car pulled up to the entrance of the club, you thanked the driver, handing her a cash tip and getting out of the car, curbside. Youngji joined you on the sidewalk as the car pulled into the flow of traffic and you turned to join the thankfully short queue into the club.

The location of the club was off the main strip of the downtown area so it never got exceedingly busy but it was still always full of people when you arrived. You never had to wait in line for long though and soon you were handing your IDs over to the bouncer and being directed inside where you paid your cover charges. The charge was higher than other clubs, but the higher cover charge meant the drinks were cheaper.

After turning your jackets into the coat room and getting your tickets, which you tucked into the safety of your clutches, you made your way to the bar, keeping a firm hold on Youngji’s hand as she led the way through the throngs of people on the dance floor. The music the DJ played was always a good mix of different genres that always got people dancing. He definitely knew what he was doing.

At the bar, you squeezed between the other patrons, next to your best friend so you could order something simple. There were several bartenders, bustling about as they got drink orders, made drinks, stocked the station, and other usual duties that came with the job. You ordered something with cherries.

When you got your drink, you were surprised to find it was green with green cherries. The bartender, a very attractive man with a black button down under a black vest, gave you a wink as he set the drink down before you. You thanked him but before you could hand him your card, Youngji beat you to it, opening a tab and telling you it was on her tonight.

After getting your drinks, you nursed them at the end of the bar as you looked around for either an empty seat or table. Youngji must have spotted one because she grabbed your hand and started steering you away from the bar and around the dance floor. As you neared the corner, you noticed two empty chairs and quickly snagged them, thankful to find somewhere to sit.

“How is that?” Youngji asked, eyeing your very green drink. You glanced down at it. “It’s good,” you replied over the bass that reverberated through the club and vibrated against your feet. Youngji silently held her hand out for your drink which you handed over. She took a sip, eyes widening as she handed it back. “That’s good, what is it?” she asked. You shrugged as you took another sip. “No idea,” you replied. “I taste sprite and melon though,” you added, taking another sip.

You continued to nurse your drinks as you listened to the music and watched the other patrons. One of the main reasons you came out here was to people-watch. It was fascinating to see how others interacted, especially strangers. When you finished your drink, Youngji got up and went to retrieve two more, bringing back two of the same drink you had received from the bartender.

“It’s some special drink for the night,” Youngji said as she sat down, handing you one of the drinks. “Mean Green or something like that,” she added. You took another sip, enjoying the taste. It was one of those drinks where you could barely taste the alcohol and in your experience with the club scene, you were well aware that drinks that tasted like juice were dangerous.

The alcohol had a way of sneaking up on you.

After downing a second and eventually a third drink, you were loose enough to throw your inhibitions away and join your best friend on the dance floor. The music, a mix of a couple sounds you’d heard in passing, played, drowning out almost all other sound as you enjoyed this time you got to spend with your best friend.

When you first moved to this city after graduating from college, which felt like a lifetime ago, Youngji was one of the first people you met. She worked at your last job. You were both fresh out of college, in debt, and needing work so entry level was the only thing you could find.

Youngji had immediately latched onto you and quickly became your closest work friend. After a few years of attempting to make your way up the corporate ladder, you found a much better paying job and Youngji was the first to encourage you to go for it. When you left, you had expected that your friendship with Youngji wouldn’t last but she continued to text and call, inviting you out and your friendship blossomed into more than just coworkers. You became actual friends.

Eventually, she left that job as well and went in a completely different direction in her career and now you were both settled and comfortable in your careers. Youngji lived in the city in a cute apartment on the edge of downtown that overlooked the river while you lived in a townhouse which had been a gift from your late aunt.

The next logical step now that you were settled was finding someone to share your life with but you weren’t in a rush to find anyone. Youngji was also in that stage where she was looking but not too seriously. You were just enjoying your life and living vicariously.

As the music changed again, Youngji leaned in to speak into your ear. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” she said over the music. You nodded to show you understood and told her you’d wait right there. You were having too much fun, feeling the music and dancing. You were well past the stage where you felt embarrassed or too anxious to do anything by yourself.

As your body swayed, your eyes shut and you continued to move to the beat. The lights seemed to mimic the crowd, dancing over the people in time to the music. You started to turn when you felt a warm body press into you from behind. Your eyes snapped open instantly, knowing it was impossible for it to be your best friend. They were too tall.

Turning in their hold, your eyes met those same green-yellow ombre eyes.

“Well, hello, neighbor,” Joshua said, an amused smirk on his face as he looked down at you.

“J-Joshua?” you asked, your voice barely audible over the music. Your body had stopped swaying as you stared back at him. “What’re you doing here?” He tilted his head curiously, those yellow-green eyes staring into your soul and seemingly glowing under the club lights.

“It’s a club, Y/N,” he answered. “I’m here to partake in this…” he trailed off, looking around at the dancing patrons surrounding you. “Revelry.” You stared up at him, heart pounding in your chest and echoing in your ears. “Am I not supposed to be here?” he asked, moving closer until his body was pressed right up against yours.

“Is this your special place? Should I find somewhere else to go and watch the people of this planet drink and make fools of themselves?” he asked, hands skimming over your hips as he drew you closer, holding you tight against him. You shook your head, staring at him wordlessly. “No,” you finally said, breath leaving your lungs as he leaned in closer.

“No,” you said again, clearing your throat and finding the will to push him back. “I’m uh…” you hesitated, closing your eyes and your brow furrowing. The club had started to spin and you were getting dizzier and dizzier by the minute. “Y/N?” Joshua asked, hands gently grabbing yours. “Are you alright?” he asked. You shook your head, attempting to shake yourself out of whatever this was.

You looked up at him as his face came back into focus. “Yeah,” you gasped. “I’m fine. I need to go find my friend. Enjoy your night.” You pulled away from him and started to push through the crowd only for him to catch up to you, gently grabbing your hand. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, all amusement gone from his expression, replaced only with concern.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Have a good night, neighbor,” you said, attempting to banter back with him. Whatever it was in your tone seemed to work and a small smile came over his face. “Alright, neighbor.”

You quickly found Youngji and after telling her about your almost spill on the dance floor, she agreed it was time to leave. You left out the part about running into Joshua as you retrieved your jackets while Youngji closed her tab at the bar. Outside, you waited for your rideshare on the sidewalk. The line for the club now extended down the side of the building and around the corner.

Your uber arrived shortly after stepping outside and after dropping Youngji off at her apartment, the driver took you back to your home in the suburbs. You thanked him, handing over an additional tip as you opened your door and stepped out.

The walk up to your front door was slow and sluggish and your body felt hot, despite the cool night air. It was a heat that radiated from deep within you and you couldn’t quite place it. Perhaps it was the alcohol but it didn’t feel quite right. As you unlocked your door, a car passed on the street behind you but you paid it no mind as you let yourself into your home, shutting and locking the door behind you.

You dragged yourself upstairs after checking to make sure your home was locked up and barely stripped yourself of your dress and shoes before collapsing into bed where exhaustion and sleep overtook you. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the run in with your handsome neighbor, but your dreams that night were weird to say the least.

Weirder than usual.

When you woke the following morning, you couldn’t really remember much of them other than your neighbor starred in them and they were accompanied by that same deep seated heat that had thankfully dissipated by morning. The rest of your weekend was spent doing chores. You cleaned your house, did the laundry, and the dishes.

The morning had started out very gray and by afternoon, the clouds hadn’t dispersed and a light rain had settled in. You decided to light a few candles and camp out in the front room in front of your TV while you folded your laundry and caught up on your favorite show.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion and soon you were falling into bed.

Your sleep was plagued with the same strange dreams with Joshua. You weren’t sure what it all meant and you weren’t able to learn anything else as you woke up abruptly when your alarm cut through your subconscious. It was still dark out when you pulled yourself out of bed to shower and start your day.

It was the one day a week you were required to be in the office. Your job was mostly work from home but you had to go to the office every Monday for in person weekly meetings which were always done on Mondays. The commute to the office was the worst part, driving downtown, parking in the company parking garage, and making your way to the lobby and then up to the fifteenth floor.

The day dragged on but you were thankful that it was just today that you would be required to go in and then you could lounge about at home and get your work done. When the clock finally read half past four, you were beyond relieved to be leaving and heading home.

The commute back was much more enjoyable due to less traffic and you weren’t required to head back for another week.

You pulled into your garage and got out, letting yourself into the house where you were quick to rid yourself of your jacket and shoes. As you headed into your living room, you caught sight of the mail truck outside and sighed. ‘Right,’ you told yourself. ‘The mail.’

You retrieved your shoes and put them on at the front door, stepping out into the cool air and making your way down the steps. As you were halfway to the gate, you noticed a familiar face at the mailboxes and stopped in your tracks. Joshua. You were contemplating turning around and head back in to wait until he was gone but when his eyes flickered up and he caught sight of you, it was too late.

You committed and continued down the pathway, opening your gate and stepping out onto the sidewalk. “Hey neighbor,” Joshua said as he unlocked his slot, pulling out his mail and shutting it before stepping aside and allowing you to do the same. He sorted through his mail, checking to make sure it was all assigned to him while you pulled your own bills and other junk from your little metal box.

“Hey,” you said softly. As you shut the small door, locking it, Joshua spoke up. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, his voice sounding genuinely concerned. You looked up at him. With a smile you nodded. “Yeah,” you answered. “Just tired from the day. Had to go into the office today.” He glanced down, taking note of your attire. “So where do you work?” he asked,

“Just at a firm downtown,” you answered. “I mostly work from home but once a week, I have to go into the office. Makes my Mondays just that more awful,” you joked with a light chuckle. Joshua mimicked your amusement. “What do you do?” he asked, sounding mildly curious.

You spent the next couple minutes explaining the nuances of your job and what you did on a day to day basis. “It sounds much more tedious than it is,” you added. “It’s not a glamorous or highly important job,” you added. “But it pays really well. Allows me to live a comfortable life.” Joshua nodded slowly.

“And rent such a beautiful home?” he asked, a smile gracing his face. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I actually own my townhome.” His expression shifted to awe. “Your salary covers your mortgage?” he asked, sounding impressed. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I actually inherited this place from my aunt,” you explained.

Joshua leaned against the gate, glancing back at your place. “It’s a beautiful home,” he said with a smile. You echoed his expression. “My aunt loved this place. She took great care of it and actually renovated it from the bottom to the top.” Joshua glanced down at you. “She did a great job.”

You looked up to meet his gaze. Silence fell as you stared at one another. Finally you broke eye contact and cleared your throat. “So, uh,” you stared. “What about you? What do you do for work?” Joshua’s smile shifted into a smirk for the briefest of moments but before he could answer, you heard the sound of a phone ringing. He apologized softly, digging into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

His eyes read the contact on the screen and you watched as his brow furrowed slightly. He finally looked up at you. “Sorry,” he said with a kind smile. “I have to take this. It was nice talking to you,” he continued. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he added before turning away and heading towards his own gate, answering his phone and holding it to his ear.

You watched as he headed towards his front door and disappeared into his home before making your way back to your own front door. Once inside, you went about your night, making dinner, eating, and then settling down for bed. As you lay there, your mind wandered back to Joshua.

You’d never really bothered to get to know your neighbors before, at least nothing past surface level.

Perhaps just this once, you could make an exception.

Over the next couple days, you continued to run into Joshua, whether it be at the mailbox or the store. You managed to chat with him each time and learned more and more about him. He worked in the entertainment industry but kept the details vague which you could understand for that line of work. You also learned that apart from being extremely good-looking, kind, and hardworking, that he was also very single and had signed at least a two year lease on the townhouse next door. Since it was just him, he’d turned one of the extra bedrooms into a home gym.

He seemed almost as interested in you as you were in him but despite the occasional flirting, he never really made a move. He also never said or did anything that made you feel uncomfortable and after a couple weeks of interacting with him, his inhuman qualities started to feel less shocking and the feeling of alertness or danger that had accompanied him started to dissipate into the background.

You knew he wasn’t human but that didn’t seem to bother you or anyone else around the two of you.

Nearly two months had passed by since Joshua had moved in. It was Friday which meant the weekend was coming up. Youngji was coming over as planned for dinner and Joshua had managed to catch you outside while you were getting your mail.

Joshua had started a new home project now that the weather was starting to warm up and you caught him in the middle of gardening. He was dressed in an old pair of jeans, the knees stained with grass and dirt, a plain white tee shirt, also smeared with bits of dirt tucked into his jeans and a dirty pair of work boots. He was leaning against the fence that separated your yards, a pair of gardening gloves on his hands, and a trowel in one hand.

You had been in the midst of conversation when you heard a car door shut and glanced out towards the street to find Youngji gathering her bag from the passenger seat of her car. She looked up as she reached the gate and her eyes went wide. “Youngji!” you said, waving her over. This was the first time she had come over while Joshua was out so this was the first time she’d ever seen your neighbor.

“This is Joshua,” you said as she let herself in, staring wide-eyed at your neighbor as she approached. Joshua removed one of his gloves and extended a hand for her to shake. She slowly took it, eyes still wide and staring at him, almost as if she were in a trance. Joshua seemed to have that effect on most people he met. She finally shook herself out of it. “N-nice to meet you,” she murmured, retracting her hand quickly after shaking Joshua’s hand a couple times.

The interaction seemed a little cold from your perspective. “Joshua’s started a new project,” you said, trying to break the tension that started to build between the three of you. “He’s built a flower bed here,” you explained. “What are you planting again?” you asked him directly.

Youngji listened silently as Joshua explained what he was planting in the flower bed before explaining the other plans for the yard he had. Throughout the whole thing, Youngji kept staring at him, occasionally glancing at you. Finally, you excused yourself and Youngji, wishing Joshua a good rest of the day and leading your best friend into your home.

Once inside and the door shut, you rounded on Youngji.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded as she kicked her shoes off and carried her bag over to the couch, dropping it on the cushion and sat down, covering her mouth with her hand. “Ji?” you asked, walking over to the couch. “What is it?”

Youngji looked up at you. “Do you have any idea who that was?” she asked. You nodded your head slowly. “Uh, yeah? That was Joshua. My new neighbor,” you answered. Youngji shook her head. “No,” she said. “I mean, yeah. He is your new neighbor but do you know who he is?” she asked. You stared at her, confusion spreading across your face.

“No?” you finally answered. Youngji let out a laugh, not of amusement but of astonishment. “Your new neighbor, the boy next door,” she started as she pulled her hand away from her mouth. “Is a porn star.”

Your stomach flipped at her revelation. “What?” you asked incredulously. “A p-porn star? No,” you said, shaking your head. “There’s no way. You have to be mistaken.” Youngji watched as you crossed in front of her to take a seat on the other part of the sofa. “He is,” she retorted. “He’s actually a really popular one. There aren’t that many alien porn stars out there,” she continued and you sat up, holding up your hand to silence her.

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted. “What did you just say? A what porn star?”

Youngji stared at you, a deadpan expression on her face. “An alien one,” she finally answered. “An alien porn star?” you repeated before bursting into laughter. “How do you even know this?” you finally asked when your laughter subsided. You watched red creep up your friend’s neck and face. “That’s not the point,” she said nervously, fidgeting in her seat.

“The point is that your neighbor is a porn star from another planet.”

Later that night after Youngji left, you were sitting on your couch, a movie playing in the background but you weren’t paying attention. Your mind was elsewhere. You glanced over the back of the couch towards your office where you could see your computer sitting on your desk in the darkness of the room.

Your curiosity was peaked but you weren’t even sure if you wanted to act on it. You weren’t exactly afraid of what you might find, but more afraid that you would like it. Youngji hadn’t given you much to go on other than a link. You stared at the computer for a moment longer before sighing and getting up.

Entering your office, you grabbed your laptop and took it back to your couch, setting it on the coffee table and producing a pair of earbuds that you paired to the laptop. Grabbing your phone, you opened your texts with Youngji and typed the link she had sent you into the address bar of your browser exactly as it appeared in the text.

It took you to a dark webpage with three large electric green tentacles, curling up around a singular rectangular box with rounded corners. Glowing and dripping green text read the word enter with a little green arrow pointing to the right. You hovered your mouse over it, checking the link properly to make sure you typed it correctly.

“Just do it,” you whispered to yourself. You clicked on the arrow and the page seemingly refreshed. The page had changed and now you were greeted with the same black page, green tentacles and an empty box with a typing cursor. Glowing and dripping green text instructed you to type in a name before allowing you to continue.

You pondered for a moment. You could keep the name vague but something deep down in you wanted Joshua to know that you knew about his career in the entertainment industry. He’d been purposefully vague when telling you and now you knew why. Alien porn star wasn’t exactly a career you’d go around advertising. Smiling to yourself, you typed into the box and clicked the little arrow next to your new display name.

Immediately, you were met with the home page. It was like the rest of the website you’d seen so far. Dark background, glowing green text but instead of the three large tentacles in the middle of the page, extending up from the bottom of the screen, there were a bunch of smaller tentacles peeking out from around the edge of the browser.

At the top of the page was a banner with a logo for the name of the website. It read Xeno-rotic in that same glowing green text that dripped down. Under it were various navigation buttons ranging from ‘home’ to ‘contact.’ Under that was a small search bar with a little green magnifying glass. You started to scroll, checking out the home page.

It displayed a list of active streams, a thumbnail with the name of the stream, the user who was live with a little slow blinking green dot, as well as a small description and a little green eye icon next to how many viewers were currently watching. You scrolled down to the bottom of the page where a little simple white arrow pointed to the right, indicating a next page.

Instead of clicking, you scrolled back up to the top. When you reached the top of the list, it refreshed and a couple new streams showed up. Once of which was at the very top and quickly gaining a lot of viewers. You looked at the username and checked your text from Youngji. The username of the top stream matched the one she had sent you.

You mouse hovered over the thumbnail and for a moment, you sat unmoving, unblinking as you contemplated just closing the whole thing and pretending this never happened but your curiosity was too strong and you’d already come this far. Taking a deep breath, you clicked on the stream and waited with baited breath as the page loaded. It was a lot like the home page but instead of a list, you were greeted with an embedded video player. The screen of the player was black with a circular loading icon, a glowing green one.

Just as you were about to back out and close your browser, the blackness flickered away and you were greeted by the sight of a figure moving on screen. “Sorry, sorry,” a familiar voice said. “For those of you just joining, the audio cut out so I’m trying to fix that.” Your heart skipped a beat as your neighbor’s face came into view, from the nose up. He was very close to the screen but you could tell he was smiling just from the way his eyes turned into crescents.

“I’ll have it fixed in a second,” he added before disappearing. You could see below the video was a white chat box with black text. It was going crazy with chats from various users. Off to the side of the player was a small box displaying a few names with little alien icons next to them. Above the names was the same green text that read “supporters.” You assumed it was some sort of payment system. If you paid so much, your name was shown in that tier.

Joshua’s face reappeared in frame and he peeked over the edge of the desk his computer was sitting on. “How’s that?” he asked. His voice was clear and the video also seemed clearer. Several people in the chat agreed with your personal sentiments, applauding him for fixing the audio and video feeds so swiftly. Joshua chuckled as he stood up and you could now see he had changed out of his gardening clothes. He was wearing a black tee and a pair of light gray sweatpants.

The chat went absolutely feral over this revelation.

You watched with amusement as Joshua leaned in to read the chat. “Oh is that so?” he asked, raising a brow, a playful smile appearing on his face. “We’ve only just started, chat, and already you’re demanding I remove my clothes?” he continued, a teasing laugh leaving his lips, “At least buy me dinner, first.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at watching him banter with his viewers. It wasn’t unlike the way he teased and flirted with you. He was a natural at it. You watched as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes scanning the chat. “No, no,” he said softly. “It’s not out yet. It should be coming in the next couple months. We finished filming a few months ago. There was a lot of post production they needed to do before it’s ready,” he explained and you wondered what he was talking about and started reading the chat.

t3ntacleluver101: how was filming? It’s been a while right? knottyxbunny: hi shua! xen0ph1liac: i love you shua b34mmeupdaddy: beam me up daddy asstr0nut: will physical copies be released or will it only be available for streaming?

Based on the comments you could make out as the chat moved at lightning speed, Joshua must have finished filming something. He confirmed this as he answered some of the questions you had seen.

“No, it’ll be released for streaming first and then physical copies will go out to adult stores. You’ll also be able to buy it directly from the company website,” he explained, answering that question first. You watched as he reached up, scratching the back of his head. “Filming was different,” he continued. “It’s been a while since I’d been in front of a professional crew,” he added with a chuckle. “I’ve been doing cam stuff for so long that I got used to just being in front of a camera on my own. It was weird having to act again,” he continued stretching before leaning forward, resting his chin in his hand as he read more.

“I’m seeing a lot of familiar usernames,” he said with a smile. “Hi bunny,” he added. You watched his eyes scan the screen and assumed that he might have a list of all the viewers on his end. You watched his brows raise before a smirk came over his face.

“Here’s a few new ones,” he started. “Hi monster smasher sixty-nine, I hope I said that right. Here’s another, black hole bandit,” he read, letting out a chuckle. “Clever,” he continued. “He loves me not, with a k. Oh, a play on words. How cute,” he continued. “Scum lord four-two-one, I’m a monster for you, and…” he trailed off as he read the next one, his grin widening.

“Neighbor six-eight-three,” he read your username aloud and your heart skipped a beat as he looked into the camera. “Hello, neighbor,” he said and you swore he knew it was you. “Welcome to the stream everyone. I guess I’ve taken up most of the beginning of this,” he said sitting back in his seat, slowly swiveling back and forth as he continued to read the screen.

You watched as his hands moved and he did something with the mouse. “There,” he said, turning his head slightly. “Now I can see the chat and viewer list on this screen,” he said, sitting back once more. “For those of you that are new,” he started as he rested his hands behind his head, sitting back with his thighs spread, looking every bit as comfortable as he probably felt.

“I like to do things a little differently here. Most cam stars will only take suggestions from paying viewers,” he explained. “I don’t think that’s fair. So I will take suggestion and direction from paying viewers, of course, but don’t think that if you can’t pay, that I won’t listen to you as well. I want everyone to have a good time and enjoy the show,” he said with a smile. “It’s why I don’t charge an entry fee like some of the other stars here. I’m not shaming them by any means,” he continued.

“Everyone’s gotta do what they can to make money,” he added. “I just personally don’t like to do that.” You watched as he continued to swivel, turning his focus to the screen with the chat on it. “Oh come on now,” he said playfully. “Bunny, Xeno, Beam,” he said. “Be kind to our new guests. Don’t hog the chat. Remember what happened last time? I had to mute you because you wouldn’t stop spamming. Don’t make me do that again.”

A wave of heat washed over you, arousal shooting straight to your core at the sound of his voice. His voice was soft but his tone was very commanding and stern. Joshua lowered his hands, resting them on his thighs as he continued to read. You tore your gaze away from him to look at the chat as well.

b34mmeupdaddy: sorry alien daddy knottyxbunny: sorry. I’ll be good xen0ph1liac: just wanna express my luv ):

You heard Joshua chuckle and looked back at him. “It’s okay Beam, and you better Bunny. You know what happens when you don’t behave. I know Xeno, and I appreciate it, but we have six new viewers,” he said with a smile. “Don’t be shy, say hi, he encouraged. You watched as the others said hello and hi in the chat.

imamonster4u: howdy 🤠 heluvsmekn0t34: hi hi m0nstersmasher69: greetings scumlord421: yo blackh0leb4ndit: hey 👋

You realized that you were the sixth and you hesitated to type. Joshua noticed, the corners of his mouth twitching as he held back the urge to smirk. “Come on, neighbor,” he said. “You’re holding up the chat.” Your fingers hovered over the keys of your keyboard and you quickly typed out a response and deleted it before typing another in and pressing enter. Your whole body felt like it was on fire.

neighbor683: i don’t like being told what to do

You watched as Joshua sat up straight, leaning in to rest his chin in his hand, a smile spreading across his face as he read your message. “Oh, is that right, neighbor?” he asked, turning to look at the camera. “Don’t like being told what to do? How interesting.” The chat went wild, other viewers rushing to repeat the same words but Joshua’s attention was on the camera, almost as if he was staring past it and into your eyes. “I’ll have to remember that,” he finally said and pulled away.

He didn’t waste any more time as payments started coming in with suggestions as well as the chat asking him to show more, to talk, to do anything. You merely observed, watching as he gave a show, slowly moving his hands over his body until one rested over the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

“You’ve been so patient,” he said, eyes flitting over to the chat but speaking to no one in particular.

Or so you thought.

“Wonder what I am, where I’m from, what I do,” he continued, his hand moving over his erecting and palming himself through the thick material of his sweats. “Wonder what’s under here,” he added, gesturing to his crotch. “I look human enough,” he continued. “But I’m far from it.”

You watched as he rested his head back against his chair headrest, his chest slowly rising and falling as his breathing started to grow heavier. “You wanna see it?” he asked, the hint of a smirk on his face. “Wanna see what I’m hiding under here?”

You could see the chat moving at hyperspeed as the viewers threw out their own suggestions and pleaded with him to take something off. His hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats and you could see a peek of his underwear. You watched his hand move under the material, no doubt fingers wrapping around his shaft and slowly starting to pump himself.

You were on the edge of your seat, eyes glued to your screen as you watched him, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips started to buck, fucking his fist a little faster. You watched as a large payment, some four figures, appeared on screen with a single request: show us.

Joshua let out a breathless chuckle, his free hand grabbing his waistband. “As you wish.” he said and you watched, lips parted in awe as he pushed his sweats and underwear down, pulling his cock free from the confines. Or what you could only assume was his cock.

Despite his eyes, the teeth, and the overall feeling that Joshua was far from human, he was still human looking enough that when you looked at him, you could justify that he was wearing contacts and had fake teeth but when you saw what he was hiding under his clothes, at least his pants, all justification of him being human was thrown out the window.

In his hand was something that resembled a cock, just not a human one.

The base of it rested against a slit telling you that whatever this was, it was retractable. Meaning it withdrew inside of him when not in use. The color of it was what threw you. The base, which was slightly bulbous, was a deep crimson. The shaft was veiny and quite girthy but it also had small ribbed like patterns that wrapped around.

As your eyes were drawn up the shaft, the color faded from the deep crimson color to a lighter, more pale red. When you reached the head, you finally let out a soft gasp. It was a very soft pink. The absolute tip of his cock was a darker pink. The head was pointed, almost like an arrow shape, the base of the head slightly flared. It was like nothing you’d ever seen before and would probably ever see.

From base to tip, it was probably a good seven inches, so it wasn’t massive but you were certain that it would definitely fill whatever hole he decided to put it in. You watched his hand glide up the shaft towards the head and noticed a small bead of a translucent, pink liquid, almost like a pink syrup, drip from the slit of his cock. ‘Precum?’ you wondered to yourself.

You watched as he gathered the viscous liquid and spread it along his cock, making his hand glide smoother. Joshua let out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to stroke himself, hand moving a little faster. It was a mesmerizing sight. The way his precum seemed to shimmer in the light of his room. You cou;dn’t seem to look away. As another bead of the pink precum appeared, you wondered what it tasted like.

Before you could stop yourself, your fingers were typing into the chat. Joshua’s eyes opened as you hit enter and he slowed his movements so he could focus on reading. You watched as he lifted his head and stared at the screen with the chat on it. “Taste it?” he asked, curiously. He turned to look at the camera. You typed quickly into the chat.

neighbor683: have you ever tasted your own precum before?

Joshua let out a chuckle. “I have,” he said with a nod before turning to look at the camera. “Do you want to taste it, neighbor? You wanna come over and see what my cock tastes like?” Your thighs pressed together on their own, as if you weren’t in control of your body. You didn’t care about the rest of the chat at this point and you weren’t sure if Joshua did either.

neighbor683: how about you come over here instead

Joshua let out another chuckle, his hand moving up and down his cock again, spreading more of the precum. “You want me to come over?” he asked, his head falling back against his headrest again. “Want me to come over and fuck that cute, tight little human cunt?”

The chat was going wild over your interaction but you didn’t care as you typed another response.

neighbor683: do it. I dare you.

Joshua let out a moan, low and pornographic as his cock twitched and he came onto his stomach. Thick ropes of milky pink painted his golden skin as he continued to pump his hand up and down, making sure to get everything out. You watched, eyes wide and underwear sticking to you, as his chest rose and fell, his breathing erratic and heavy.

The chat was still going off when he finally opened his eyes and lifted his head. “I wasn’t expecting to cum so soon,” he said softly as he sat up and reached off screen for something, producing a few tissues which he used to clean himself off with. “I’ll have to take another shower,” he said with an amused smirk as he wiped his stomach and hand. His cock had gone flaccid and started to retreat back inside his body. He pulled his underwear and pants back up, hiding it from view.

“Let me wash my hands really quick,” he said as he got to his feet.

He disappeared for a few moments, all the while, you sat there, staring at your screen in disbelief as the chat demanded to know what was going on. You saw your username being thrown around a few times. Without saying anything, you closed the browser, your screen going back to your desktop. Wordlessly, you shut your laptop, got to your feet and carried the device back to your office.

Setting it on your desk, you glanced out the window where you could see Joshua’s yard, the small flower garden barely visible in the darkness. As you shut your blinds, you headed back out into the living room, not noticing the dark shadow that crossed his yard and hopped the fence.

As you grabbed your empty cup from the coffee table, you were unaware of the footsteps ascending your front steps. It wasn’t until three sharp knocks rang out from your front door that you knew someone was there. You looked up from the sink. Had Joshua decided to make good on your dare? Or was he here to reprimand you?

You hesitated before wiping your hands on a towel and walked over to the front door. You knew it was Joshua without checking and unlocked the door, pulling it open and bracing for impact.

There he stood on your porch, still dressed in the same sweats and black tee. As the door opened, he turned to look at you, those piercing yellow-green eyes meeting your gaze. Nothing was said for a moment before he took the chance to look you over, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, leaning against your doorframe. You swallowed thickly. “Look,” you started. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have watched—”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You looked up at him. “I… I don’t know,” you answered. “Are… aren’t you upset?” Joshua stared at you before letting out a laugh. “Upset? That my attractive neighbor now knows I’m a sex worker? No,” he answered. “And since you just sat there and watched from start to finish, I’m going to assume you aren’t upset?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “Good,” Joshua replied. “So, you still want me to come over?” he asked, his tone lowering. Excitement coursed through you at the prospect of seeing in person what you’d seen on your screen. “I uh,” you started. “Don’t you need some time to … you know?”

Joshua chuckled as he leaned in closer. “You’re really cute when you’re flustered,” he said. “I’m not human,” he started. “Give me like five minutes and I’ll be more than ready to go.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Do you wanna come back in five minutes or—”

“Just let me in and eat you out already,” he said with a smirk. You could feel your arousal pooling in your panties. “Besides,” he added as you stepped back, letting him into your home. “It smells like you could use some release.” You stared up at him in shock as he shut the door behind him. “Alien, remember?” he said, tapping his nose.

You watched him look around your living room. “Nice place,” he said with a nod. He looked down, meeting your gaze and neither of you moved or spoke for a moment. “So,” he started. “We gonna do this right here on the floor or you wanna show me to your room?”

Without any more prompting, you took his hand and led him up the stairs, leading him down the hall to your bedroom. Inside, you watched him look around curiously. “You can tell so much about a person by what they decorate their room with,” he said softly as he neared your bed, running the tips of his fingers over your bedspread.

You walked over as he turned towards you and let out a laugh as you pushed him down onto the bed, falling onto his butt with a bounce. “You’re so eager,” he said with a chuckle. You started to climb onto the bed, straddling his lap. “Just right into it, huh?” he whispered as your hands rested on his shoulders. You could feel his move up your back. “Have you watched any of my films?” he asked, his voice still soft. When you shook your head no, he smiled. “Good,” he said with a nod.

“I’d rather you didn’t have any expectations. The way I fuck in front of a camera is not how I do it off screen,” he explained, his hands sliding down your back and moving to your waist. “Do you have a safeword?” he asked, his voice still soft. “Cherries,” you whispered. Joshua reached up, cupping your cheek. “Good,” he replied. “Tell me what you like,” he continued, his hand sliding down the side of your neck, watching how you reacted, head tilting back slightly.

His fingers wrapped around your neck and you let out a moan as he squeezed gently. “Choking, got it,” he said, his voice slightly amused. “Anything else?” he asked, his hand sliding down to your chest and smoothing over your breast. “Dom-” your voice cut off. “What was that?” he asked. You licked your lips, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Dominate me.”

The minute the words left your lips, Joshua had done a complete 180, flipping you onto your back on the mattress and hovering over you. “Are you sure you want that?” he asked softly, eyes searching your face. You nodded slowly. “Yes,” you breathed out. “Take me.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything else as Joshua’s lips crashed against yours, muffling a gasp as his hands wandered. He pulled back briefly. “Can I take this off?” he asked, gently tugging at your top. You nodded. “Take it all off, please,” you replied. Joshua chuckled as you pulled him into another kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

His spit was different from your own. Whereas yours was watery, his was thicker, more viscous. It had a slight taste to it. Something you couldn’t place. It was almost tangy but oh so subtle. Joshua’s hands pulled your shirt up and he broke away to pull it off entirely, tossing it aside as his eyes drank in your appearance. “I like this,” he murmured, fingers skimming over the black lace of your bra.

“But I’d like to take it off,” he added, looking to you for permission. You granted it with a nod and sat up, helping him undo the garment so he could slip it off and toss it aside. He guided you back down onto the bed, lips leaving a trail of kisses down the side of your neck to your collar. He continued, kissing down your chest, stopping to swirl the tip of his tongue around one of your nipples before continuing on until his lips met the waistband of your shorts.

He lifted his head but before he could ask, you were shimmying out of both your shorts and underwear, tossing them aside. Joshua let out a chuckle as he placed his hands on your knees, pushing your thighs apart. His eyes swept downward, taking in your nude form until they settled on the space between your thighs, your arousal glistening in the dim light of your bedside lamp.

You watched as his tongue slipped out to wet his lips. “I could probably just slide right in,” he said softly. “But where’s the harm in having a little taste,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lowered himself onto his stomach, head between your legs. He pushed your thighs further apart, fingers digging into your flesh. “Just a little taste,” he repeated.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a soft moan leaving your lips as his tongue met your clit, dragging slowly over it. On the surface, his tongue looked a lot like a humans but now that you could feel it, you could feel what felt like millions of small spines, like a cat's tongue only on a much smaller scale. It felt incredible and each pass over your clit had your back arching off the mattress as you moaned loudly, the sound unrestrained in the privacy of your bedroom.

True to his word, Joshua only had a small taste, groaning against you as he lapped at your essence. When he pulled back, he sat back on his heels and tugged his shirt off, dropping it aside before also shuffling out of his pants and underwear. The same cock you’d seen on the live stream was barely peeking out of the slit but quickly pushed its way out.

Joshua glanced up at you, a smirk on his lips. “You wanna taste it?” he asked, drawing your attention. You looked back down at his cock before nodding, your eye watching the way the small bead of pinkish precum caught the light. Joshua swiped his thumb over the slit, catching the liquid and brought his hand to your face, offering it to you.

Opening your mouth, you stuck your tongue out and Joshua let out a low chuckle before smearing the fluid over your tongue. Immediately you closed your mouth, swallowing. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Most human precum was salty but this was almost… fruity. There was a distinct taste of fruit, maybe a berry but you couldn’t fully place it. One thing was certain tho.

It definitely tasted like it looked.

There was a dull tingle that accompanied the taste and it started where the precum made contact with your tongue but started to slowly spread across your whole tongue and soon your mouth. It slowly spread down your throat, into your stomach and extending further until it settled low in your belly. A heat started to radiate from your belly, spreading throughout your whole body.

Joshua watched as your breathing started to quicken, your heart hammering in your chest. Arousal started to drip down and seep into your bedspread. “What is that?” you asked, referring to the tingling heat. Joshua chuckled. “It’s a natural aphrodisiac,” he explained. “My species secretes it during foreplay to prolong intercourse.”

He leaned over, his fingers wrapping around your throat. “You still want this?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Then do exactly what I tell you,” he said before roughly rolling you onto your stomach. He pulled your hips back, pulling you onto your knees. You felt his hand on your back between your shoulder blades, pushing your chest down. “Stay just like that,” he said in your ear as he moved your arms under your head. “You might want to hold on, baby,” he added as he guided the flared head of his cock to your dripping slit.

You felt the pointed tip enter you and let out a gasp before the rest of the head of his cock followed, pushing into you with ease. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he slowly eased his way in, your walls welcoming the intrusion as he stretched them. You let out a long, low moan as he bottomed out, the bulbous base kissing your entrance and the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. How he even fit inside you was beyond you but it felt even better than you imagined.

Joshua gave you a few moments to adjust before he started moving, setting a slow, steady pace. He had a firm grip on your hips as he thrust into you, the base of his cock hitting your lips with a wet smacking sound. You let out a cry of pleasure as he thrust into you harshly, testing your limits. “Just as warm and tight as I thought, he groaned, picking up the pace.

Each thrust had your toes curling, stars clouding your vision. Pure, unbridled pleasure coursed through you, the aphrodisiac running its course and making you more pliant and increasing your arousal. Joshua’s strength and stamina was a surprise to be sure but he wasn’t human so it wasn’t all too surprising.

“You had a lot to say earlier,” he growled as he wrapped his fingers around your neck from behind and lifted your head, his chest meeting your back as he leaned over you. “But you can’t say anything now. Does it feel good? Do you like how my cock feels inside you?”

You could only mewl and moan in response which only further fueled Joshua’s monologue. “Have I already fucked you dumb, sweetheart?” he panted into your ear, pounding into you from behind. “So pathetic and dumb just from a little bit of alien cock? What a good human slut. Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, fingers tightening around your neck. You nodded wordlessly, still unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Gonna be a good girl and take it all?” he whispered, holding back a moan as your walls clenched around him. “Mhmm,” you moaned. Joshua let out a growl, hips slamming into you now. The base of his cock was trying to breach your hole and each attempt had you crying out in both pain and pleasure.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Be good and let me in.” With one final thrust, you came, tumbling over the edge as he managed to push the base of his cock into you, locking into place as he came, pumping you full of the same thick milky release you’d seen paint his stomach during the live stream.

“That’s it,” he mumbled as his cock twitched inside you, pumping even more cum. You let out a whine as you felt a slight ache from between your thighs. “Stay still,” Joshua murmured in your ear, his grip on your throat loosening. “Stay still, baby.”

A moan ripped from your throat as you felt the base of his cock start to swell. “What’s that?” you mumbled. You tried to push yourself up but Joshua gently forced you back down. “Just stay still, okay baby? Be good for me.” You did as he asked, receiving praise for your obedience.

After a couple more moments, everything seemed to stop. Chancing a glance downwards, you could see that your lower stomach was slightly distended. Swollen almost. “That was a lot of cum,” Joshua murmured, pressing a couple of soft kisses to your cheek. “But you did so well. Took everything I gave you.” You whined, trying to shift under him but he held your hips still.

“You can’t do that. We’re locked together. If you try to pull away, you’ll only hurt yourself or me. Just stay right there,” he cooed. “What do you mean, locked together?” you asked. “Remember the knot?” he asked softly. You shook your head. “What knot?”

“At the base of my cock is a knot. When I came, I pushed it inside you,” he explained. A brief flash of pain shot through you at the memory. You did remember that. “And then it started to swell,” he continued. “Well, now it’s swollen and locked in place. If I try to pull out, it’ll only hurt. So we have to wait for the swelling to go down before I can pull out,” he added.

You sighed, resting your cheek against the sheets. “How long will that take?” you asked as he gently caressed your thighs, massaging your muscles. “About an hour or so,” he murmured nonchalantly. “An hour?” you asked incredulously, lifting your head. “Mhmm,” he hummed. “About an hour and then you’ll need to go to the bathroom to get all of that out of you,” he added, reaching a hand around to press against your stomach. “And then we can go again,” he said with a smile as he nuzzled against your shoulder.

“I’m not done with you just yet.”

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eomayas · 11 months ago

Text

distracted • hjs

pairing: husband&dad!joshua, wife&mom!reader, established relationship

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!! fluff, parent au, non-idol au

synopsis: reader is literally just feral for joshua

warnings: pwp, p in v, oral (m receiving), riding, praise, dirty talk, soft!dom!josh, breeding, josh calls reader a ‘slut’ (lovingly) once, reader & josh are parents, reader losing her mind over josh mainly. JOSHUA ARMS. unedited ;)))

a/n: i’ve experienced extreme joshua brainrot lately then did an extreme deep dive of jarms (joshua arms) until 2 in the morning. i am unwell and need him like a fish needs water

joshua pushes the shopping cart that holds groceries, and your daughter in the front of the basket, down the aisle. you trail a step or two behind them, mind a bit foggy and… distracted. you don’t know what it is, he’s just wearing a plain, white tshirt and blue jeans—he’s worn it before—and you’re running errands together like you always do. but today is different, and you can’t seem to comprehend a single thing going on around you, or really look at your husband without feeling mild insanity.

first, you’d wandered into the store in a daze, forgetting that joshua was grabbing the shopping cart with your daughter, after having sat in the front seat watching him drive for twenty minutes. his hand sat steady at ten and two, ever the safe driver when your daughter was present, though at stop lights he would sometimes grab your hand or settle his palm on your leg. you felt lost since the morning, woke up with your mind cloudy and your brain foggy just at the mere sight of him.

then, you couldn’t remember a single thing on your grocery list. in your clouded state, you must’ve forgotten the list in the kitchen; it wasn’t a big deal, except for the fact that you literally couldn’t think about a single thing that you needed to buy, and you are usually the one leading the pack around the store. so the three of you have been wandering around the grocery store for longer than you want to be, circling back to the same aisles you’ve already been on because you can’t remember what it is you need to buy.

now you’re back in the dairy aisle, unsure of why you’re back because youve already grabbed milk and cream cheese, so you’re just standing in front of the cold, double doors without a single thought in your head. “yogurt, maybe?” joshua tries, pausing his conversation with your child to help you out. you blink once, twice before mumbling out a ‘right’ and pulling the doors open and grabbing a container.

“mommy, that’s not the right one!” your daughter whines when you drop it in the basket. she’s frowning at you, eyebrows crinkled the same way joshua’s do. god. you make the mistake of looking up at him, and your entire body flushes you meet his gaze. his eyes are soft but questioning, asking if you if you’re alright without actually saying it. no, i’m not, you think to yourself, discreetly sweeping your hand up your neck to check your pulse. it’s fast, and you’re definitely still alive.

joshua watches you with mild concern; he’s noticed your strange, avoidant behavior since this morning when he got back from the gym. you had looked almost surprised when he walked into your bedroom, like you weren’t expecting him back. your eyes widened, and your lips parted like you were going to say something but nothing came out. he beat you to words, anyway, giving you a soft ‘good morning’ that made you blush—he’d ignored it because you seemed… off—and kissed you on the lips. he thought he really smelled with the way you rushed your lips off of his and rolled out of bed, nearly tripping over your own feet. joshua grabbed you so you wouldn’t fall, and he felt you tense in his hold, a frown etching on his features. he brushed it off and asked if you wanted to shower with him, expecting a ‘yes’ from the look that flashed through your eyes, but you instead mumbled something about having to make breakfast before hurrying out of the bedroom all together. you basically avoided him all day since then, never really looking at him or talking to him directly—none of which you do on a constant basis.

the yogurt was, in fact, incorrect down to the brand and flavor. “i’m sorry, baby,” you say to your daughter, running a hand over her hair before grabbing the yogurt to swap it out for the correct one, this time taking a few seconds to scan everything in the fridge. you appreciate the cold air from the refrigerator, as it cools you down from the rush of heat you feel along your face and neck. you take a breath and tell yourself to get a fucking grip before dropping the correct item into the cart.

“daddy, can i get ice cream?” your daughter asks joshua as you start ambling through the grocery store. you cut your eyes at your daughter for not asking you, but you know it’s because joshua never says no to her.

“of course, princess,” and you watch with pure adoration as he places a kiss on her forehead and she just giggles, scrunching her shoulders up to her ears. joshua is a good husband, but he’s an even better father, and you love watching him interact with your daughter. they have a special connection that you love to witness, a secret language just between the two of them. it’s moment like this where you want another kid—or maybe it’s part of the hazy mess you’re in because of his sheer existence.

you follow behind joshua towards the ice cream aisle. the shirt he wears is tight on him, straining against his biceps and shoulders. you can make out his back muscles depending on how the light hits the fabric, and you feel even crazier than before. his muscles have been the source of your you distracted state today. joshua has always been muscular, and he’s always worked out, but something about him recently has flipped a switch in your brain that has made you feel absolutely feral every time you catch a mere glimpse of his arms—which is quite literally every day. this morning it was too overwhelming, him coming home and shedding his jacket to reveal himself in a simple black tank top that looked a size too small, and gray sweats that made you feel like you needed to go to confessional.

another rush of cold air pulls you out of your lustful daze and you stand at the back of the shopping cart as joshua shuffles through the cartons of ice cream, asking your daughter her input. you try to keep your eyes focused on your daughter, anything else, but cant help when they drift over to your husband, his arms flexing each time he grabs a pint and displays it to your daughter. joshua casts a glance at you, a smile that says can you believe this? when you daughter shakes her head for the fourth time, despite not asking to look for herself. you blush under his gaze, heat spreading down your neck and chest before settling in your stomach.

"i thought you liked the oreo one?" you say to your daughter, voice slightly hoarse. you smooth a hand over her hair to give yourself something to do, hands a little clammy from all of your nerves working overtime.

"i do..." she trails off, turning to look at you with a tiny pout on her lips.

"tell daddy before he freezes," you say, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. just the mere reference to joshua feels heavy in your mouth, makes your stomach flutter for reasons you can't really explain.

joshua places the pint of oreo ice cream into the cart, circling around to the front and playfully ticking your daughter under her chin. she giggles loudly and you smile as you watch her become a spitting image of her father. arms cage you between the carts handlebar and a firm chest, and suddenly your eyes are no longer on your kid but on the strong, veiny forearms that belong to your husband. “excuse me,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt to his voice like he knows that you’re losing your mind at the simple sight of him.

wordlessly, you gently grab his right arm to remove yourself from his entrapment. “hey,” joshua says softly, reaching out for your wrist as you move swiftly to get away from him. turning, goosebumps arise on your skin, and you tell yourself that it’s because his hands are ice cold. “you okay, honey?” your stomach flips and you press your lips into a small smile, nodding.

joshua stares at you for a beat before leaning down a few inches, silently begging for a kiss. you nearly combust at the thought, not trustworthy of yourself to behave normally in public. but his eyes are fond, and you love him so much and want him so bad that you raise up on your toes and brace yourself on his shoulders before delivering a soft, quick peck to his lips. you’re proud of yourself for holding back, but joshua isn’t satisfied because he stays leaned over in the spot you kissed him in for a few seconds after the fact that you’ve pulled away. if you were at home, he’d yank you back to him but because you’re in public he files that grievance away and straightens up.

“i want a kiss,” your daughter pouts, cutely crossing her arms over her chest. since she doesn’t specify from whom, both of you lean in and press kisses to her cheeks. her giggle ripples through you, filling your stomach with butterflies and your chest with a type of love reserved only for her. you’re momentarily pulled away from your joshua shaped daze, until his hand is settling on your lower back. it chilling, his touch, and it’s not because his hands are ice cold from standing in the grocery store freezer for two minutes.

a shiver runs up your spine and you slip out of his grasp, not paying attention to where or what you’re walking into until joshua is pulling you back into him, his hand splayed across your stomach and your back colliding with his chest. “babe, watch out,” a woman pushing a cart stops short, a look of remorse on her face.

“oh my god, did i hit you?” she asks, and you figure you must look injured or something, because she looks genuinely concerned for your wellbeing. the flush on your face is not due to the fact that you were almost ran over, but because joshua hasn’t moved his hand from your stomach and hasn’t put any distance between your back and his front. he stays pressed against you, holding you firmly in front of him, his hold tightening ever so slightly.

“n-no, i’m alright,” you manage, lips tingling. “i swear.” you add when her eyebrows don’t drop from her hairline. at that, she seems to believe you enough snd offers you a smile and a curt nod before hurrying down the aisle.

“are you alright, honey? you’re trembling,” joshua says, his deep voice like melted wax running down your back. you make the mistake of looking up and over your shoulder at him, his palm pressing into your lower belly.

he peers down at you with soft eyes, ready to question you again until your tongue darts out to wet your lips before you tuck your bottom lip under your top one and nod. he knows the look in your eyes all too well—hunger, but not for food—and heat pools in his chest. joshua is much better at hiding his desire for you, especially in public and in front of your child, and he’s able to keep his expression the same, pretending he never saw that look in your eye. “i’m fine,” you’re shuffling away from him again, this time checking to make sure you’re not seconds away from being ran over with a shopping cart.

somehow, you three mange to finish your shopping trip without anymore mishaps. it requires circling back to the same aisles more than once because neither you nor josh can remember what you wanted to buy, but at least you can say you’re done. joshua loads the groceries into the trunk while you buckle your daughter into the backseat. she yawns, stretching her little arms up and out. “sleepy?” you ask her, a small smile on your face.

“no,” she says, vehemently shaking her head. you chuckle hum a sound of disbelief before dropping a kiss on her forehead and going to the front seat. the trunk closes and you suck in a breath as you watch him in the rearview mirror. he brushes his hand through his hair, and even through the mirror and the tint of the trunk window, you can make out his bicep muscle flexing with the motion.

it’s nearly pathetic how horny you feel just looking at him—like an overgrown teenager who just got into their first relationship. except you’re an adult, married to this man, and this behavior is no longer considered ‘cute’.

joshua gets into the front seat and smiles at you, leaning over the console to give you a kiss. his hand rests on the side of your neck, and you wonder if he’s trying to check your pulse, to mess with you. you keep your hands to yourself, because if you touch him, you might never stop.

pulling back from your mouth, he looks into your eyes before flicking them back down to your lips. joshua starts to lean in but seems to remember you’re not alone, and sits back in his seat, his hand lingering on your neck for a moment before he starts the car and asks your daughter if she’s ready to go.

the car ride is quiet, save for your daughters yawns and insistence that she is not tired. she makes most of the noise, talking about random things that you and joshua entertain with ease. he watches her in the review mirror with real, unconditional love in his eyes. it does nothing to help your situation, and just makes you want to give him another baby.

when you arrive back at your house, you quickly get out of the car, grateful to get out of the stuffy, suffocating feeling of being in the front seat. you walk around the back and help your daughter out, ready to carry her inside until she exclaims, “i want to help!”

you ser her down on the ground and she runs over to joshua. you watch him give her two of the lighter bags of groceries, and raises her arms to show you, a big smile on her face. you smile back and press in the garage code and tell her to go inside of the house, seemingly leaving you and joshua alone. you sidle up next to him, and joshua lightly bumps his hip into yours. “hmm?” you question without looking up from the numerous bags in the back of the car.

“why are you avoiding me?” he asks, and the directness makes your hands clam up.

“i’m not avoiding you,” you say, taking a few grocery bags and backing up from him.

“you quite literally are.”

you stare up at him, his eyebrows knitted together in slight irritation. “i still love you, if that’s what you’re asking,” you clarify. his features soften and his shoulders relax a bit. those shoulders. your eyes drifts down his figure, lingering on his flexed forearms, veins bulging out from the tension of carrying the grocery bags.

joshua watches you obviously ogle and check him out, his entire figure relaxing at his realization. “oh, i get it now,” he teases, a slow smirk sliding across his lips.

“get what?” you play dumb, taking a tentative step backwards before turning around and trying to keep your walk casual as you walk through the garage. it’s so obvious you’re trying to keep space between the two of you, putting anything in the way to keep you off of him.

“that you wan-“ joshua cuts himself off because you push open the door that leads you into the house. he clears his throat and closes the garage door before following behind you into the kitchen. your daughter is standing on her tippy toes trying to reach a cupboard that’s way to high for her, concentration etched on her face. “need help, bub?” he asks, setting his bags down on the counter.

“i can’t reach,” she whines, yawning immediately after. joshua lifts her up into his arms and opens the cupboard for her abd allows her to put the item away. “i’m tired, daddy.” she rests her head on his shoulder, tiny arms encircling around his neck.

you watch them and you feel your heart grow three times in size, like the grinch. joshua coos at her and pats her head before agreeing to put her down for a nap. you busy yourself with unloading the groceries, stomach flipping at the thought of having at least an hour alone with your husband. you can’t believe how depraved you feel.

joshua comes back downstairs a few minutes later, right when you’re putting the last thing into the fridge. “you finished?” he asks. you nod, heart hammering in your chest as he walks over to you. his hands drop onto your hips, pulling you flush against him. you keep your eyes straight ahead, leveled wirh his chest, and joshua dips his head down to meet your eyes. “see: you’re avoiding me.”

hear creeps up your neck and you shake your head. “i’m not.”

“don’t try to gaslight me,” he teases, making you roll your eyes and finally look up at him. “there she is.” he murmurs, leaning down a few centimeters to connect your lips. your hands flatten against his chest, and he walks your backwards into one of the kitchen counters. joshua leans over you, trying to press you flat against the surface despite the lack of space.

“shua,” you breathe once you pull away when he unbuttons your jeans.

“what, you’ve got somewhere better to be?” he asks, arching one of his eyebrows.

“i… i have to do laundry…” you say halfheartedly. joshua laughs at this, dropping his forehead against yours. “i’m serious!” you say, but you’re smiling too. “i want to go back to avoiding you.”

joshua pulls back to look down at you, making a face that says for what? “i thought you wanted me to fuck you?”

“yeah, i’m afraid nothing will keep me off of you if we start,” you say honestly. joshua blushes deeply, a boyish grin on his face. “i want you so bad—i think i might be ovulating? i don’t know. i just want you so. bad.” you punctuate the last part with the press of your knuckles into his chest.

“you’re ovulating?” it’s like bells went off in his head.

“maybe, i don’t know. i don’t keep track of that shit. i just need an explanation for how i feel,” you say, hands sliding along his chest absentmindedly.

joshua raises both of his eyebrows at you, fake shock on his face. “maybe because you have a super hot and sexy husband who is also a really good father? just a hunch.”

“no, i don’t think that’s it,” he rolls his eyes at you and you giggle, balling his shirt up into your fists and pulling him down to you. joshua grips onto the counter to steady himself, his hold tight enough to turn his knuckles white. he presses his pelvis into yours, his his erection pressing against your leg.

joshua wraps an arm around you and splays his hand across the small of your back. he presses you down onto the counter and you grip his shoulders tightly, craning your mouth away from his to breathe out, “not here.” he pulls you up from the counter and looks down at you, his chest moving up and down quickly. you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he thinks about a place to fuck you that won’t bring attention to the two of you. “laund-ah!” he swoops you up into his arms easily, already carrying you in the direction of your laundry room before you can even get the entire word out.

you wrap your legs around his waist as you buzz with need and anticipation. you let yourself revel at being carried by him after lusting over his arms all day. he carries you like you’re weightless, with his his hands resting under your ass for support. “god,” you whisper to yourself, pressing a kiss into his neck.

“i love you,” he rasps as he enters the laundry room. he shuts and locks the door behind him before dropping you onto the washing machine. his hands are flying to undo the buttons of your blouse and you pull him closer using your ankles that are still wrapped around him.

“love you more,” you murmur, helping him with removing your top. “your turn.” your urge, pulling the hem of his shirt.

“sure you can handle it?” he teases. you flush and lightly push at his abdomen. “don’t wanna make you pass out or anything.” he smirks at you, loving to watch you squirm.

“i can handle it,” you say, feeling so embarrassed to even be in this position. luckily, joshua is sweet to you above all and draws you in for a kiss. you skate your hands up underneath his shirt, nails lightly scratching against his torso. “take it off.” you mumble against his lips, hands pushing up the material of his shirt. you feel like you could rip him out of the fabric.

joshua pulls back and makes an entire show of getting undressed. he runs a hand through his hair and purposefully flexes his bicep as he does so. if this was any other time, you’d roll your eyes and call him annoying. but today, all you can do is watch and try not to drool.

he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into an empty laundry basket nearby. you waste no time leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. you move to kiss his jaw and then his neck, your hands sliding down his body. you kiss across his chest, going lower until the position becomes uncomfortable. lightly shoving him, you hop off of the washing machine and drop to your knees in front of him.

joshua watches you with dark eyes, holding onto the edge of the machine. you fumble with his belt, hands shaking with anticipation of finally having him, and he makes no effort to help you out. your hands work too fast, and you mess up when you try to pull the buckle open for the second time. “i’ve got all day,” he say smugly. you ignore him, and finally pull his belt free. you work his pants down to his ankles, leaving. him in just his briefs. you let out a breath and look up at him with pure lust. “as pretty as you look right now, you’d look much better with my cock in your mouth.”

quickly, you pull his underwear down and let them pool together with his pants, hands flying to grab ahold of his member. you pump him a few times, flicking your eyes to look up at him. joshua gives you a slight nod, signaling you to start sucking, and you eagerly oblige. sticking your tongue out, you lick up the precum that dribbles out of the tip before you wrap your lips around the head and push him into your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you go. a groan escapes joshua’s mouth and he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you drag him into your mouth inch by inch, your eyes never once leaving his. his chest heaves up and down, moving faster and faster the closer you get to taking him all the way. tears prick in your eyes when he hits the back of your throat, but you keep going until your nose nearly presses into his hips. “shit,” he whispers, leaning more of his weight into the washing machine.

you bob your head up and down, pulling back and stroking what doesn’t fit. you swirl your tongue around the tip, cheeks hollowing to create more suction when you suck on the tip. joshua moans lowly above you and tells you how good you’re doing. his eyes flutter shut, squeezed shut in pleasure and his chin drops down to his mouth. you want his eyes on you, want him to watch you as you make him feel good, so you purposefully scrape your teach against his dick to get his attention.

his eyes fly open as he jerks back from you, glaring at you when you smile around him. “brat,” he spits and tightens his grip on your hair. you sigh through your nose and press your thighs together, cunt throbbing with need. you keep bobbing your head, speeding up slightly and taking more of him into your mouth. when joshua presses your head down, you relax your throat and let him take control, hands moving to hold onto his thighs. “good girl.” he grunts, holding your head down on his dick for a few seconds until you gag, and then he pulls you off of him.

he does this a few more times, his cock twitching against your tongue. tears gather in your eyes but you power through, determined to make him cum. he pulls you down onto him, cursing each time he hits the back of your throat. “fuck, you take me so well. i’m c-close,” tears slip down your cheeks and mix in with the spit and cum. your face is a mess, but neither of you care.

joshua fucks his cock into your mouth, holding your head steady in his hands. you dig your nails his thighs to combat the ache in your jaw. he thrusts into your mouth until he can’t take the feeling of your warm mouth around him anymore, his cum shooting into the back of your throat. you keep your mouth open to catch all of his seed, some of it gathering around the corner of your lips. “s-swallow,” he demands when he pulls his cock away from your mouth.

you obediently swallow, and he whines in the back of his throat. “goddamn, i love you,” he holds his hands out to you and helps you up onto his feet. he wipes the corners of you lips with his thumb and shoves it into your mouth, lips parting when you suck on his thumb like you just did his cock. “youre such a slut.” he murmurs, a loving gaze in his eyes.

a trail of saliva connects your lips to his thumb when you pull it out of your mouth. “promise?” you ask.

joshua smiles and pulls you into a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. his hands make use of unbuttoning your jeans and shoving his hands down your pants. your panties are damp, and he’s a bit shocked and honored that you’re this wet for him. “i need you,” you whine, peppering kisses down his neck. you don’t even want his fingers, just want him inside of you.

“i know,” he rasps, slipping a finger between your folds. you shudder when he touches you, his finger playing with your arousal and brushing over your clit, just to make you jump. you clench around nothing, and it’s nearly painful how turned on you are.

“joshua!” you whine, nipping at his neck. his hand immediately grabs onto your hair and yanks, a hiss emitting from your lips followed by a smirk.

“needy brat,” he grumbles, walking the two of you over to the work bench in the room. he drops onto it and spreads his legs invitingly. you quickly step out of your jeans and underwear, his eyes roaming over your body. “you’re a beautiful, y/n.”joshua says sincerely; at the end of the day, he is simply a lover boy.

you smile at him and quickly drop yourself onto his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. you reach between the two of you and position yourself over his cock. his hands grip onto your hips tightly and guide you down onto him, bottom lip drawing in between his teeth.

“ah-fuck!” you cry when you sink onto the tip, the initial stretch rippling through you.

“you’ve got it, baby,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing sift circles into your hips. you bite down on your bottom lip, hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders as you sink lower and lower onto him. “goddamn, girl.” he grunts, hips bucking when you clench around him.

when you manage to take all of him, you sit still and catch your breath, head resting on his shoulder. joshua unhooks your bra and you lean back to slide it off your arms. “you okay?” he asks, hands groping your chest.

“uh huh,” you rasp, taking it as a sign to start fuckign him, licking your lips and raising your hips before dropping onto his lap. “fuck, shua.” whimpers leave you lips as you fuck yourself onto him, using his shoulders as leverage to move yourself up and down. joshua relaxes into the wall, his grip on your hips loosening as you gain momentum and find a rhythm.

“you’re so tight,” he groans, one of his thumbs finding your clit and rubbing slow circles around the sensitive nub. “been thinking about fucking you all day.” joshua sighs and rubs your clit quicker, eyes peering up to watch your facial expressions. “you need me as bad as i needed you?” he mumbles, voice low and husky.

“more,” you pant, still bouncing up and down on him. your cunt clamps around him like it’s trying to keep him there. “shuaaa!” you whine, thighs burning. you sit on his lap, rolling your hips into his.

he chuckles breathlessly, rolling his other thumb over one of your nipples. “yeah? tell me,” he grins at you devilishly, this side of him only coming out in your intimate moments.

“so bad,” you cry, grinding down onto his lap. “w-wanna give you a-another baby.” you squeeze around him involuntarily, a knot forming in your stomach. joshua twitches inside of you at the mention of having another child.

“yeah? want me to fill you up?” you whimper and nod, legs starting to shake. “want me to fuck you full of my cum until you’re pregnant again?” he lets go of you breast to place both hands underneath your ass. he lifts you up and drops you down, a show of his strength as he fucks you up an down onto him.

joshua grumbles filthy things into your ear; tells you that he’s gonna fuck you until you can’t walk, that he’s gonna stuff you full, that’s he’s going to give you another baby tonight. “f-fuck! i-im gonna cum,” you cry, throwing your head back in pleasure. he bucks his hips up into you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly.

spots blur your vision and your cunt spasms around him as you reach your climax. it hits you like a thousand bricks, and you’re shaking in his arm and crying out his name. you expect him to stop, but he keeps thrusting up into you, drawing out your orgasm further. you can hardly think through the waves of pleasure, which is why you hardly register that he’s lifted you up until you’re placed on a cold surface.

joshua drags you to the edge of the washing machine and slams his cock into you, nearly knocking the wind out of you. “o-oh my god,” you gasp, tears brimming in your eyes for the second time tonight. “you feel so good!”

he drives his hips into you brutally, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. “f-fuck, i’m not gonna last,” he groans, dropping his head into your neck. he kisses your skin and lightly bites, though not hard enough to leave marks. you cling to him, arms secured around his shoulders like you may fall if you dont hold on.

his thrusts get sloppier by the second, indicative of his nearing climax. “i love you,” you breathe, nails clawing at his back. he grunts, whining out curses as he cums inside of you, his dick twitching between your walls. he stills, fingers applying bruising pressure to your hips.

after a few moments, he lifts his head from your shoulder and looks at you, a tender smile on his face. he presses his lips to your gently, sighing against you as he goes soft. “shit,” he pants, followed by a light chuckle.

you can’t help but giggle back, running a hand through his hair. he doesn’t want to pull out, not yet at least, wanting to make sure his cum stays inside of you as long as possible. he lets go of your thighs and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. you kiss the column of his throat, right on his adam’s apple and rubs soft circles into your back.

“we should clean up,” he murmurs, starting to draw back from you. you make a sound of disagreement and squeeze around him on purpose. “b-brat.” he stammers, curling away from you.

he pulls out of you with a lewd squelch, both of you turning light shades of pink at the noise. he helps you off of the washer and you lean against it. he finds a random towel and comes back to wipe between your legs before cleaning himself off and tossing it in the same basket he threw his shirt in. “i guess i could start a load,” you say, looking at all of the discarded clothes, making joshua laugh.

he helps you gather them up and drop them into the washer. you add in the detergent and slam the top closed. except, when you go to start the washer, joshua places a hand on your back and presses you flat against the washer and slots his knee between your legs to spread them open. you don’t get a chance to prepare yourself because he’s pushing into you again, a strong arm wrapping around your middle to hold you steady as he fucks into you from behind, determined to get you pregnant tonight.

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