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husbandhoshi · 5 months ago

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title: royally screwed [m]

pairing: joshua x f!reader

wc: 30.8k in total; part 1: 15.4k, part 2: 15.4k summary: between remembering last night’s party and pleasing your unrelenting family, you think being a princess is hard enough. then you’re thrust into an arranged marriage to royal darling joshua hong—straight-laced, infuriatingly obedient, and everything you’re not. pretending to be the perfect couple? impossible. notes: romcom + smut (part 2), modern royalty!au in which yn is the princess of cotria/joshua the prince of acros (both fictional), enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, quarterlife crisis/coming of age, very very slow burn. lots of swearing, lots of alcohol, lots of feelings. smut tags: oral (m!receiving), mirror shenanigans, unprotected sex, softdom!shua, mating press, idk. they're in love your honor. [read part 1 here!] (please)

You decide June looks good on Acros. Unlike in Cotria, now sure to be perspiring with tourists, the downtown here is comfortable, inviting, even. At home, you’d be shoulder-to-shoulder with three other people right now.

This is one of the things you like about this country: it seems to be intentionally idyllic. It’s becoming more clear to you that Joshua’s parents weren’t actually in need of anything from you other than a status boost. You suppose they’re learning the hard way what exactly that comes with.

Jeonghan’s car, or rather, the car Jeonghan happens to be in (he couldn’t drive his way out of a paper bag, try as he might), pulls up to the curb. He’s fresh off a stint of good press, meaning months of speeches, ribbon cutting, and run-ins with parliament and journalists and business moguls all vying for a bite of a future king. You’d add yourself to that list, but you know you’re at the back of the line—you practically live there now, but you’re not sure if things could have happened any other way.

You watch him step out of the van, never windblown even though he likely just got off a flight. Always with a smile, too, one tired but recognizable, so different from the plasticky ones he wears on TV.

The first thing he does when he gets out is throw his arms open for a bear hug. “Hey, cricket,” he says, voice wrought with jet-lag. “Missed you.”

“Glad you had time for one more stop,” you murmur, squeezed into the million-thread count of his shirt.

“I always have time for you,” he replies, which is decidedly untrue, but you don’t have it in you to say that. All you do lately is get into arguments, and you’re not looking to add your brother to your hit list.

(He hugs Jihoon, too, since you all practically grew up together. Is that your gun, or are you just happy to see me? Jeonghan jokes. Jihoon’s reply: It’s my gun. It’s always my gun.)

The second thing he does is push the brim of your baseball cap down.

“The paps,” he warns, as if they were the boogeyman.

“If they can’t recognize us, they need to get better at their job.” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “For God’s sake, Jeonghan, we’re all wearing matching hats.”

No, you are not kidding. Jeonghan, blue, you, red, and Jihoon, green, a la The Powerpuff Girls, which was a joke you made about six years ago and could not let go of.

“Whatever,” he laughs. “Aren’t you supposed to be showing me around? This is your domain now.”

“Don’t get excited. I just got here.”

“What do you need to go shopping for, anyway?” he asks, now walking side-by-side with you.

“I ask that question every day,” Jihoon replies, glancing at Jeonghan as if to say Women, right?, save for the fact that the both of them have exactly zero game.

“Somi’s birthday!” you exclaim, two ticks too loudly. “Stuff, I dunno. Just trying to get used to this place.”

“This isn’t exactly Rodeo Drive, you know.”

That, Jeonghan is right about. You’re sure there must be a shopping district somewhere in Acros, but definitely not here. Here, the streets are lined with dense cherry plum trees, wine-stained and fragrant. They frame driftwood-paneled shop windows housing kitschy art galleries, mom-and-pop bakeries, and patioed bistros with striped awnings.

An elderly couple passes you. They smile and wave, visible even under the shade of their parasol, either blissfully unaware of your status or too wise to care.

“I know,” you waver. “Whatever. I'll just get Yunjin to find me something for the party.”

Your eye wanders to the jaunty facade of a music store. The sign flaunts handmade, cursive letters with a curly treble clef in the lacquer of old paint. In Cotria, the same sign would be neon, Hollywood-esque, vain.

“Party?”

“Let's go there,” you interrupt, hoping to run your big mouth over with some more talking. Of course Jeonghan wouldn’t be cool with any party, nonetheless the one Somi was planning on throwing, but, either by habit or wishful thinking, the news just tumbled right out of you.

“Party?” Jeonghan repeats. He trails close after you, hoping to grab the door before you can. Such is what he had been taught, after all, which came more naturally than navigating big-brotherhood. “Jihoon?”

Jihoon shrugs, and opens the door before the both of you get there. You’ve trained him well.

“It’s a small thing,” you tell him. “Close friends only.” It’s not technically a lie—small is relative, and it’s not your fault Somi has two hundred-some close friends.

Inside, you notice the shop is bigger than it looks from the outside. In the front, their nicest pianos: the glossy Yamahas, the baby grands. a lone drum set, on sale, the hi-hat sparkling under the LED lights. And finally, guitars hung from the wall like posters, some lime green and child-sized, others sanded down so the mahogany glows.

“You already know what I’m going to say,” Jeonghan says, the lilt of his voice verging on not-so-casual.

“Then don’t say it,” you reply flatly. “You went to those parties too, by the way.”

“Used to, but—” Jeonghan sighs because he’s beat, and he knows it.

You absentmindedly flip through a book of sheet music—Alfred's Essentials of Music Theory. behind it, 40 Taylor Swift Songs for Piano.

“You’ve been good, I hope?” you cut in. “Not too tired?”

“No,” Jeonghan says. “I've been great. You?”

You can’t read his expression. Old Jeonghan would tell you that he’s ready for a nap, that he hates sleeping on airplanes, that his hands still get sweaty when he gets in front of a crowd and the camera flash hurts his eyes. New Jeonghan never complains, either because of some drastic change in his character or because he feels like he can no longer complain to you. Both hurt your feelings in equal measures.

“I called, you know.”

“I was busy, cricket.” He holds up a copy of Complete Advanced Piano Solos and wrinkles his nose. He's hoping you’d laugh with him about it, but you’ve already moved on, now fixated on the shining columns of electric guitars. “I wanted to ask about, you know, all the new stuff going on.”

“You mean my arranged marriage?” The words feel stiff in your mouth.

The arranged marriage I'm doing for you? I split my heart open for you, and that’s the thanks I get?

You avoid Jihoon’s tentative glare to look at your noodled reflection in the polish of a red Fender. You think of Joshua, of a corny rendition of Here Comes The Sun and a pick between his teeth, cradling a guitar held by a linty, ten dollar strap.

Then you think of what he said on that piano bench—that somehow he could have prevented this. Actually, this might have been all your fault. One too many shots, and you ended up setting feminism back five centuries.

“Y-yeah.” You watch Jeonghan’s silhouette appear behind yours. “Has it been okay, at least?”

Okay is a complicated word to use. It’s hard to say, even for you.

It would certainly be TMI to tell Jeonghan that you’ve been kissing a lot more often. First it was under the flimsy guise of practice—We have to be ready for our dinner tomorrow, Joshua had said, to which you readily agreed. You couldn’t be the unwilling victim of another headline like KISS OR MISS! It would be terrible for your ego, even more so than your public image.

Yesterday, though, as you were winding down for bed, Joshua had come out of the shower, damp white tee and all. A sorry, unspeakable part of you willed you to posit—Hey, maybe we need a refresher? You couldn’t even get halfway through your sentence. Hell, his glasses even came off.

You really only liked each other past 9 PM—you still couldn’t quite manage to get through a conversation like normal people. At this point, you had a 50/50 split in terms of who would cast the first terrible stone of petty disagreement. The only thing we have going for us is a dubious physical attraction, seemed like way more of a mouthful than okay, though.

“Yeah, it’s been okay.” You look around. There's a decent amount of mediocre acoustic guitars on the back wall, more than enough to scratch the itch of someone too afraid to defile something more honorable. “Hey, don’t wait up for me. I think i might buy something.”

—

[august 10, 2:57 pm; a dress fitting.

In the ten-foot mirror of the boutique dressing room, you watch Yunjin yank the ties of your corset into a punishing knot. Your mother watches behind you, perched on the chaise.

“Regal and radiant,” she reads aloud, the shiny cover of a magazine between her hands. “Finally, some good news.”

“About you and Joshua?” Yunjin asks.

“Ye–ow!” you wince. “Yeah. We went out to dinner yesterday.”

The dinner: an exhausting, stuffy affair at an Italian restaurant with two Michelin stars. You came in a nice dress, Joshua in slacks and his best button-up. Smile, wave, a kiss on the cheek. You fed him a spoonful of dessert, a stiff, too-sweet panna cotta. It was either raspberry or strawberry—you were too distracted to really notice. Instead, you’d been practicing the steps, the motions of a true love.

Should we hold hands over the table? Joshua had asked.

I don't think we have to. Your hand had curled over the napkin on your lap, as if the thought of his touch physically stung.

“This is a nice color,” your mother interrupts. She pinches the fabric of the skirt up at your waist, watching the way it bunches over your hips. “It's suitable.”

Suitable. Right. The dress for your engagement ball, suitable. Just like you, newly suited for the engagement.

You watch your image in the mirror. It’s taller, more regal, likely the product of Yunjin squeezing all the air out of you, Or worse, the penetrating gaze of your mother over the top of the tabloid.

You blink hard; you waver. ]

[august 20, 10:13 pm; a quiet return to acros after a day at the beach with somi and soonyoung.

The castle sleeps, warm under the soft glow of candlelight on marble. You pad through the halls, carefully, as to avoid waking the entire country with the thwacks of your still-wet sandals. Hopefully Joshua is sleeping. He'd certainly ask questions, either about if bikini tops really need all that padding or what the SPF of your sunscreen was.

You approach your room, where the lamplight from the cracked door oozes into the hallway. There's a determined rustling noise coming from the interior. Incriminating. Holding your breath, you cast a long glance into the thin slice of bedroom you can see from where you’re standing.

There sits Joshua, cross-legged on the bed. Between his legs, the guitar you bought him. It must have finally shipped. He’s tied the gift ribbon it came with to the guitar strap, a woven linen with an offensively bright jacquard pattern.

A hesitant A major chord, then G major, offkey. Hm, he hums aloud. Then you notice his phone propped on a pillow, a Youtube tutorial rumbling in the background. He tries the G major again. Better, he says, pumping a fist into the tired air.

God, what a dork, you think. But you don’t walk away.]

–

From the garden, the Acrosian moon renders the city blue, like ink from a spilled well.

It’s quiet out here, you notice. The forest spills into the sky, and the scent of roses lies heavy on your skin. You’re seated on the bench beneath the sculpted gazebo, a worthy centerpiece, and you revel in the coolness of the granite, the bated still of the air. You like this garden better than the one at home, although it’s entirely possible that you’ve been conditioned into hating all topiaries, no thanks to your parents.

It's only when you hear the quiet click of footsteps behind you that you realize you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been outside. You’re now able to tell them apart–these, Joshua’s, steady and purposeful, sound like they have a heartbeat.

You don’t turn around to greet him. “So you finally had enough, huh?” you ask instead, sliding to the left so he can sit beside you.

“How'd you know?” he chuckles.

“I'd like to think I know at least a little about you.”

“I appreciate it,” is his reply, surprisingly warm.

Just a few hours earlier, your parents had come to visit. They cooed and giggled and connived alongside Joshua’s parents before launching into a very long, very serious discussion about your engagement ball. You’ve learned not to sweat the small stuff, the small stuff being the color of the napkins, the members of the string quartet, the hors d'oeuvres. But then it got weird: the symbolism of the color of your nail polish, which journalists were allowed to watch you make out, when and how Jeonghan was supposed to announce his presence during all of this.

Then things got critical, which really sucked. No one was safe this time, not even Joshua. You lasted about an hour, Joshua about forty-five minutes more. You wonder what his breaking point was. Maybe it was his mother finally telling him off for having more than three buttons undone whenever he wore a dress shirt.

In the silence, you feel an inexplicable peace. Maybe this is the only time you can get along; underneath the same moon, the same stars, the divide doesn’t feel quite as wide. You let your mind clear, first, past the fog of Somi’s birthday bash, glittery and blinding in your mind’s eye, past Jeonghan’s tired shoulders in the music store, past all the magazine covers and photo ops. The heavy reality feels heavier in your stomach, but you’re no longer as scared, although resignation looks like acceptance when you whittle it close enough to the bone.

“Have you ever been in love before?”

Joshua’s voice is so low, it takes you by surprise. You look to your side and see his eyes, shaded by the long curl of his lashes, trained on the sky, his expression unreadable. There’s a piercing sincerity to it, one you haven’t seen before.

“No,” you reply, the answer coming to you faster than any regret ever could. “How could i?”

“So all the boyfriends before, just…?” he trails off. He's referencing the magazines, all the covers with full size photos of you and the model of the month holding hands by the riviera, sharing a martini, kissing outside a nightclub. There are too many to remember, but you’re surprised he’s aware of any at all.

“It was just stupid fun. I dunno. We hung out, had sex, whatever. It was never serious. I didn't tell them about anything at all; I was okay with them not really knowing me, at least, not as anything other than a party girl, the runaway princess, etcetera. We didn’t owe each other anything.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“Sometimes,” you answer. “But it was fun. I don't regret it. I just never saw room for them in all of this.”

Joshua hums, low and deep.

“And you?” you ask, incredulous. “In love?”

“In university,” he says after a brief pause. “There was a girl. I think I loved her more than I had ever loved anything else before.”

“What? Who?” you interrupt. “Do I know her?”

“No.” Then, a quiet chuckle. “No one did. She was a civilian, a normal girl. She wanted to be a biologist, I think. it was either that, or a nurse. We snuck around a lot. Probably more than you did.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

“I told her I'd marry her. I thought if I wanted it enough, it would happen. I'd go to my parents, profess my love, and all our rules would fall away somehow. Just like that.”

Suddenly, it feels like there is a gaping wound in your chest. Every new word seems to draw the bloody edges of your skin further apart.

“Well, they didn’t,” Joshua continues. “I broke her heart. and I learned that all of this would never go away. Not for love, not for anything.”

There is an impossible hollowness inside you. You imagine Joshua, twenty-one and bright-eyed at Cambridge, hiding beneath the arch of the cobblestone bridge, the long one behind the quad, to carve hearts into the limestone. There's a girl wrapped in his jacket, her laughter like bells. She draws him close, runs a delicate hand through his hair, a shorter cut, more sporty than it is now. The night is still just as kind, forgiving, as it is now, and the moon still round like a young pearl.

“And that’s why you’re…you know.” You pause. The words all feel stuck to the roof of your mouth. “You like the rules.”

“Because it would mean that it didn’t end in vain. That it wasn’t really my fault.”

“You don’t want to mess up again. I get it.”

“Yeah.”

You notice your arms are touching, that they have been touching. Somehow, you don’t want to move away.

“Why are you telling me this?” you ask.

“Not sure.” Joshua sighs, having fully abandoned the filter he normally speaks to you through. “I don't think we’re so different. I don't know. It feels good to tell someone.”

“Do you still love her?”

“No. I don't think I can.”

“I'm sorry,” you swallow, feeling the familiar lump in your throat.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

It’s getting cold, the twilight breeze now coming in from the sea. A silence, now sticky, caustic, settles between the two of you. The thought of Joshua, hopelessly in love, a line you hadn’t even dared to cross, seems to wind itself deep into your neurons.

“No really,” you insist. “I'm sorry. I gave you a hard time—no, I've been giving you a hard time. I didn't know.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“What?”

“Be nice to me. No one’s watching.”

“I know,” you say, a foolish conviction rising in your stomach. You almost feel silly, juvenile, for never really baring your heart like how he had. You’re not sure which was worse.

You turn to look at him, really look at him. He's framed by the haze of the violets, the gentle curtain of the willows.

“Says the real you?” Joshua asks.

“Yup,” you laugh. “Usually is. You probably get the worst of it, to be honest.”

“She’s not so bad.” He returns your gaze; it’s honest, unsearching. “According to the real me, by the way.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

There are no words left. In fact, nothing quite says more than the way you now sit together, hands close enough to touch, without quarrel, complaint, or a yearning to prove yourself to some invisible standard. Instead, you enjoy the quiet calm, the way it drapes itself across the garden, the city, the quick of your heart. Now that you think about it, it’s the first time you’ve been able to do this without feeling like you were putting on a show.

This time, you think it’s real when you lean against his shoulder, and he leans back, chasing your warmth.

And it certainly seems to stay real when your hands find each other. You realize he does it the same way every time—the gentle skim of his fingertips down your hand before your palms meet, gently, forthright.

And it’s here, in the uncertain glow of the summer moon, where you think you’re the closest to ever knowing just what Joshua had been talking about earlier.

His hand curls around your cheek, holding you, wanting to see you clearer still, and he kisses you. It's not the practiced motion of an ill-conceived love, nor a hungry, blind stumble in your unlit bedroom. No, this time, it's as if you are being drawn back, wonderfully, slowly. Joshua kisses you as if it's the first time, as if to undo all the other times.

And somehow, almost by magic, the fountain song and the phantom photographers, the parents and the press, the world and everything in it, finally draw quiet.

–

“So,” Jihoon says, reloading his pistol. “You ok? Don’t you hate the range?”

You push your earmuffs aside to hear him better. “What?”

“I said, don’t you hate the range?”

“Well,” you balk. Jihoon puts the gun down and leans against the booth, looking at you from behind the glare of his safety glasses. Behind him is the paper target of a man with five bullet holes through his head. “I think I've gotten used to it.”

This is all true—you did hate the range, but it’s where you can always count on finding Jihoon on a Sunday afternoon. Better people went to church, but Jihoon preferred to terrorize the poor center circle of a bullseye.

“Hm.” He picks up the pistol again, stares down its iron sights. “Somi need anything for her birthday?”

“She needs a new man,” you reply, and Jihoon laughs.

Bang. Bang.

“But, no, I'm getting her that vintage Cartier watch she’s been wanting forever. They were auctioning it off in Paris.”

“Right, since it’s time for her to get a new boyfriend,” Jihoon deadpans, although he can’t quite get it out before he chuckles. “What about Soonyoung?”

“They cannot get together. You’re just being messy.”

“Sure, I'm the messy one. Didn’t they sleep together?”

“That was, like, two years ago. Drunk.”

Bang. Then a click–the clip’s empty. “By the way—you decided if you’re going to Cotria this weekend? Jeonghan will be back again, you know.”

You pause, watching Jihoon reload the magazine, shiny bullet by bullet. You definitely know Jeonghan’s coming home—minus all the time you spend on Find My Friends, you were always acutely aware of when he was in town. The real question is if you wanted to see him again. Usually, you’d count down the days, make plans at all your favorite restaurants, buy a bottle of cheap wine to split over a shitty Godzilla movie. That was when you still talked.

The last time you saw him was when he visited you in Acros. After the music store, you milled around a couple shops, walked through an art gallery. (Remember when you got lost at the Prado? he had asked. You were staring at that painting with all the butts.

Kinda, you had replied noncommittally. All Jeonghan did lately was start his sentences with remember, like he wanted you to forget who he was now.)

“I dunno,” is what you land on. “I'm busy.”

“Well, Jeonghan asked me.” Jihoon takes down his old target and sets up a fresh one, another formless, black silhouette.

“Asked you what?”

“If I could ask you to come.”

“Does Josh know?”

“He actually already helped with arrangements for you to go back,” Jihoon replies, palming the gun again. “He said only if you wanted to, though.”

The tightness in your chest seems to coil over itself once more. Joshua had asked you about Jeonghan over breakfast one morning, before handing you a coffee and a croissant to soften the blow. You had been talking a lot more lately, which, somehow, you didn’t mind. If he wasn’t making fun of you, he was actually a decent listener.

You watch Jihoon steady his arms.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

–

Like all of your great ideas, it began in the back of a car.

Surprising, maybe. Accidental? Never.

You’re getting ahead of yourself, though. It really started earlier tonight, at the charity event you attended with Joshua.

Lesser beings would blame the wine, a cheap chardonnay only fit for sorority girls on a Friday night. Naturally, you and Joshua were responsible for downing about half the bottle—a fun amount, you’d like to say, although you admit you were surprised at your date’s ability to hold his alcohol.

You, however, can peg the real culprit: a reasonably slutty dress, removed from the annals of Somi’s closet, back when she was less of a Paris Hilton and more of a Princess Diana.

The evidence: damning. As you were getting ready—Can you zip me up? you had asked Joshua, fiddling with the rollers in your hair, already a generous ten minutes late. Then the slow, lingering skim of his touch, molasses up the hollow of your spine. At dinner, a warm hand on your knee. You didn’t hang around much longer after that, but walking to the car was a wondrous excuse for the flat of his palm to find the small of your back, fondly, comfortably, as if you had known each other for years.

Since you had spoken in the garden, certainly you had acted like more of a couple. It came more naturally, likely due to the fact that you had no idea if you were actually a couple or not. You suppose it doesn’t matter at the end of the day. Well—sort of.

Now, you’re just being obtuse. What you’re really trying to do is explain how your hand found its way down Joshua’s pants in the back of your limousine. And still, found is too generous of a word. But you digress.

The short version: you kissed Joshua. Jihoon parked the car out back, you had gotten tired of Joshua glancing at you through the side of his eyes, and you kissed him. Regrettably, this hasn’t gotten boring yet. You enjoy the way he searches for your touch, the part of his soft lips.

Sometime between the third and the tenth time your tongue found its way into Joshua’s mouth, Jihoon removed himself from the situation—he was always good at that part. Two wandering hands later, your palm skimmed over the front of Joshua’s slacks. No big deal, except he was half-hard and he moaned in your mouth like he was doing the ad-libs in a Cupcakke song.

“Whoops,” you had babbled. This whole night, you’d been searching for the brakes on the clown car winding through the horny fog of your horrible, vexed mind.

“Fuck, sorry,” Joshua replied just as quickly, the words seeming to slip back down his throat.

Then you had stared at each other and blinked, hard, as if that would erase the fact that, one, the prince of Acros had just cursed approximately half an centimeter from your face, and two, you’d now crossed a bridge that could not be uncrossed.

You could no longer lie to yourself about the fact that you are hopelessly attracted to Joshua. You don’t even know if you want to lie anymore. You still thought of the time you ran into him, birthday suit and all, all those weeks ago in the bathroom. And, yes, you had wondered how big he was, although you blame Somi for planting that evil idea in you.

Hence, with God as your witness (since Jihoon was no longer there), you had said, “I can help, you know. If you want.”

You didn’t expect Joshua to nod so quickly. Then again, you now know yourself to be a poor judge of most things, especially ones relating to whatever this is.

“Do you want to?” he had asked, eyes fogged over.

“Yes. really.” Then you stopped. “Is this your first—”

“No. Does it really seem like it?”

Okay. You’ll have to unpack that later.

So, finally, here you are. Somewhere along the line, your shame had fallen to the wayside, and a new desire now rocks you.

“Could’ve just asked earlier,” you tease, thumbing the buckle of Joshua’s belt.

“Should’ve known you’re not one for subtlety,” he laughs softly, his eyes fixed on how you undo the clasp. It’s a silly comment, but all the blood still rushes to your cheeks at the idea of him wanting you not just now, but all night. “Next time.”

“Really now.” The button at his waistband proves difficult with your new nails, so you instead sit your hand on the tent in his pants, palm him over the fabric. “You’d let me do this in the washroom of a charity ball?”

Delightfully, you watch him squirm. He doesn’t fight you, instead, uses his hands to bring you closer so you can feel his voice on your skin. “You’d be surprised,” he replies.

“His highness,” you say before returning to the wretched button, “Fooling around at a formal event? Scandalous.”

“Says the walking scandal,” Joshua laughs again, nipping at your earlobe. Then a sigh, breathy and tortured, as you finally peel back his slacks.

“Isn’t this about the time where you be quiet and let me do my thing?”

“Is that an order?”

“Yeah, since you seem to like them so much.”

He opens his mouth to complain, but you’ve beaten him to the punch. Skin meets skin; you watch his eyes flutter shut, the slow fall of his shoulders as he exhales.

Fuck, you think to yourself. If that’s all it takes for him to get hard— you force the thought back to where it came from. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Already, you’re reveling in the lewd image before you: the nation’s darling prince, legs spread and slack-jawed in the back of a limo, dizzy at the thought of a pretty girl playing with his cock.

Your hand wraps around his length, pulls it out of his briefs. Feeling the weight, heavy and warm on your palm, makes your skin prickle. He is big, but even if he wasn’t, the way he gasps into your ear when you start pumping him is enough to satisfy.

You start slow, just to be a little mean. He's longer than you expected, you realize. A turn of the wrist at the base, a little more pressure, and you hear him groan, loudly, shamelessly, as he tips his head back.

“Feels good?” you ask, voice lower than a whisper. You know it does—you’re not inexperienced by any stretch of the imagination, but something about turning the prince into putty makes the months of horrible foreplay worth it.

“Yeah,” he says, part sigh. “Really good.”

“Good.” Then you hold out your palm in front of his mouth. You tell yourself it’s a litmus test for his freak-o-meter, but there’s a part of you that wants to make this the best handjob of his short, unexciting life.

First, he looks at you, wide eyes unblinking. There's already a flush, pretty and pink, across his cheeks, the column of his neck. Then, it clicks. He spits into your hand, and you watch it trail down the plush curve of his lips, his chin, the ridge of his adam’s apple. The color spreads to his ears; his mouth twists shyly. Oh, he looks perfect, maybe even more than perfect like this.

As if drawn by a magnet, you kiss him, and your hand finds his cock again. The friction alone draws out a low whine from Joshua’s chest, enough for you to feel the sound on your own tongue. Emboldened, you pump faster, harder, loving the way his hips kick up to meet your touch.

Still, he gives no indication that he’s close. Something tells you he has more stamina than you think, which surprises you. Thirty minutes ago, you thought he was a virgin.

“Josh?” you murmur, your lips brushing over his. “Wanna taste you.”

He meets your gaze, expression unreadable. You think maybe you’re moving too fast, that you’ve crossed some sort of boundary, until you feel the shadow of his hand move, first on your waist, then up the back of your neck. He gathers your hair in one hand, easily, as if he’s done this many a time before, and you get the message.

You wet your lips, swollen at this point, and bow your head. You’re running on something crazier than adrenaline at this point—even seeing the bead of precum at his tip is making your jaw feel heavy.

The first taste, always thrilling, sends sparks to your cunt. You seal your lips around his cockhead, feeling its weight on your greedy tongue, and he pulls your hair just enough to make you moan.

“Were you thinking about doing this all night?” Joshua asks, voice deceptively innocent.

You can’t answer. You don’t want to. He tastes good, he even fucking smells good, and you want him bad. Instead, you take him to the base, feel him bump against your palate as you try not to gag. You can’t fit him all the way, so your hands make up the slack. He's even bigger fully hard, and already, you feel the ache in your cheeks, your temples.

“Fuck, you must have been.” A groan, low and slutty. “Doing so good for me.”

You can’t tell if he’s being genuine or if this is his version of dirty talk, but it’s working. His hand is gentle, restrained behind you, letting you lead. The worse part of you wonders what it would take for him to break, but that’s a project for another time.

Honestly, he doesn’t need to do much—again and again, you chase the feeling of his cock deep in your throat, enough to bruise. You don’t even care if you gag around him; when you do, he pulls your hair back, just enough to make your scalp prickle wonderfully, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you like it.

You feel heady with arousal. You start to wonder how he is in bed, if he’d hold your hair like that, run his mouth like he is now. He's vocal, more than anyone else you’ve been with, and every little noise goes straight to your core, makes your thighs squeeze together pathetically. By now, you’re sure you’ve ruined this set of panties.

“ ‘m close,” he says between breaths. “You don’t have to—”

Stupid, stupid boy, you think. You don’t think you’ve wanted to do anything more. So instead of answering, you look up at him, eyes big and watery, and you suck hard. with your tongue nestled underneath his cockhead, right by the vein, it’s almost too easy.

He groans, loud, satisfied, and you feel his release fill your mouth. Even after swallowing, it’s enough to run down your chin, get your makeup all smudged, and you like it. If you weren’t in trouble already, you are now.

“Ah, I made you a mess,” Joshua says, gravelly and intimate. With one hand, he takes the handkerchief out of his suit jacket and cradles your jaw with the other. “Hold still.”

“You,” you manage after clearing your throat. “You don’t have to sacrifice your pocket square.”

“Yes, I do,” he chuckles. He wipes the corners of your mouth, your aching chin, and it almost makes you cry. “You literally gave me head in the back of a car. The pocket square can go.”

He draws you up to his chest so you can rest your head on him. There’s a warm, melty feeling between your ribs, minus what you had just swallowed. Inexplicably, even as the horny fog clears from your brain, you still want to be close, closer than close and then closer still.

“Head? I don’t like hearing you use normal people slang.” You pout, and you feel his laugh radiate from beneath his skin. “Good head, at least?”

“Oh, please. Better than good,” he answers. “You’re perfect. perfect.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you start. Then he shuts you up with his mouth over yours, and you forget to think about liking him, loving him, or marrying him—this, you think you can do.

—

“We’re in Barcelona!”

You’re greeted by a pocket sized Somi and Soonyoung as they grin at you from your phone screen. They look to be on the balcony of a hotel suite, both wearing their matching silk robes.

“Wow,” you reply. “And where was my invite?”

“We did invite you, bitch,” Somi says, pulling down her sunglasses to look at you. “You said you were busy.”

“Well, I mean…” you uncap a bottle of nail polish. “That's not untrue.”

“The ocean needs you,” Soonyoung whines, clutching his chest. “We need you.”

“I'm sorry! Josh and I have been doing engagement stuff.”

“Josh? Since when were you on a nickname basis?”

“Whatever,” you interrupt. “What are you guys gonna do today?”

“Beach,” Soonyoung responds brightly, with Somi’s Don’t let her change the subject! loud in the background.

To be honest, you don’t even know the answer to her question. It just sort of happened, which seems to be the new normal for you. You’re also trying to pull apart last night–the freak-o-meter test came back inconclusive, and, for some reason, Joshua fell asleep with his arm over your middle. (Actually, you can think of a few reasons why he did that, but you’re not really sure how to feel about any of them.)

“Ugh, I miss you guys.” You wipe at your pinkie toe, having smudged the polish beyond repair. “Drink a little extra sangria for me. And by little, I mean a lot.”

“You’re still coming to Somi’s birthday, right?” Soonyoung asks.

“Yes, of course she is,” Somi replies. “Unless you can’t. Which I totally understand.”

“I still can,” you lie. “It just has to be more low-key than usual.”

“No paparazzi,” Somi says. “And I'll tell everyone to keep you on the down low. Super duper down low.”

“No way.” Damn, you curse to yourself—you keep screwing up painting your big toe. “Seriously?”

“Anything for my queen,” she giggles. “Pitbull is also confirmed, by the way. Secret Pitbull now.”

“Good, because that’s the only reason I’m coming.”

“Boo, you whore.” Somi wrinkles her nose at you playfully. (Is she being serious? Soonyoung asks in the background.) “Also, I'm still waiting for my update on the whole prince thing. I've been very patient.”

“No updates. Nothing to report,” you insist. Frustratingly, your cheeks are hot, like you’re in secondary school all over again.

“You fucked him, huh?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Halfway. Maybe.”

The combined sound of Somi and Soonyoung’s gasps rips apart your phone speakers, and you draw in a big breath. I did it for the plot doesn’t quite seem like the right justification, not like it used to be. The plot never used to involve the M word, love, or any sort of feelings at all. Now things are more confusing than late-stage Grey’s Anatomy, but good luck explaining that over the phone.

“So you do like him,” Soonyoung says, saucer eyes sparkly on-screen.

“I don't know,” you answer. It’s true, you don’t. To you, like was flirting over text and french kissing. Paradoxically, you had told Joshua all of that, and he still decided to do whatever he did to you on the ledge of the fountain all those days ago. It felt like he ate the heart right out of your chest. Then you had to go and suck his dick, which never made anything less complicated.

“Oh please. Look at you,” Somi laughs. “Yeah, you do.”

Fuck. You’ve smudged all the polish off your big toe again.

–

Not much surprises you these days, but you can’t say you were expecting to see your riding boots to be the first thing you see when you arrive home in Cotria.

The second thing you see is Jeonghan, smiling at you in his big, stupid riding helmet, camo-printed because he bought it when he was 15 and his head never grew much bigger since.

“For old times sake?” He then holds your own helmet up by the straps, and whatever twinge of annoyance you had felt earlier makes way for something softer, more forgiving. “Everything's set up outside.”

It doesn’t take you much time to take him up on the offer. If anything, a long ride usually solves all your problems, and you definitely have problems that need solving.

You saddle up in the stables, wordlessly, moved by habit. It seems to be the same for Jeonghan, too. Even Peanut acts like it hasn’t been years since he’s seen him, and he noses at the box of sugar cubes like he always does. Then again, horses don’t hold grudges, at least, not like you do. Even Joshua seemed more optimistic about this encounter than you did.

“So you're back back,” you say, hooking your feet in the stirrups. “Or do you have more jet-setting to do?”

“Back back,” Jeonghan replies. “Missed home too much.”

He cocks his head towards the old riding trail, the one that loops the long way through the woods. The gesture is but a formality—it’s the only path you ever take. Still, you follow behind his horse, watching the beige swoosh of Peanut’s tail the same way you did when you were a little girl and things were far simpler than they are now.

Under the cornflower sky of a near-autumn, the forest seems endless. A flock of geese split the sky in two; a warm breeze haunts the canopy, scattering the afternoon light. The dirt under you is soft, peaty from the morning rain. The hoofbeats are silent today.

Jeonghan’s horse slows so that you ride side-by-side.

“Hey, cricket?”

“Yeah?”

“I…” Jeonghan clears his throat and pauses, quite unlike him. “I wanted to come out here to talk.”

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I…” Another pause. “I know things haven’t felt normal between us. For me, at least.”

You almost drop the reins. A strange, floating feeling is set off in your body, like a flare.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I was kinda hoping you would say that.”

“I'm sorry.” A hard swallow. “I haven't really been the best brother, have I?”

“Well, not…not really.” Quickly, frenetically, words bob up in the back of your mouth like you’re playing whack-a-mole. You had been waiting for this conversation to happen for so long, you realized you hadn’t planned much further than that. “It felt like you’d changed. A lot.”

The wind feels like ribbons around you. You sway back and forth on Astrid, as if on a boat.

“Was it the birthday party thing?” you ask. “I didn’t mean for it to…you know.”

“Actually, that was my fault.” Jeonghan smiles bitterly. “I shouldn't have let Mom and Dad run me over like that. You should’ve been there. It was never really the same without you.”

“Well, I should've come,” you admit. “So we both fucked up.”

“Maybe,” he chuckles. “But the rest—definitely my fault. I made myself busy because I felt like I had to.”

You’re growing to really hate that word. Jeonghan had to grow up, Joshua had to break up with his first love, you had to learn to pick up all the pieces of both of these things and try to fit them back into your life.

“You didn’t even look back.”

“I was scared, cricket. That if I kept looking back, I wouldn't be able to go forward. And I didn’t want to leave you behind, but I did. I think there was a happy middle somewhere, I just couldn’t find it.”

“Jeonghan, you’re not really making sense right now,” you say, flattened, and he laughs.

“I don't even know what I'm saying. I think I'm trying to say that I just want you to be happy. And that I'm sorry.”

You bite your lip, as if to distract yourself from the strange pressure in your throat. You think you want to cry, but you’re not sure.

“But are you happy?” you ask. “With the coronation and everything? Did you even want this?”

“I am, believe it or not. I know you don’t, but I'm not lying. Somewhere along the line, I started liking all of the talking, the traveling, the interviews. I like that I can help people. Some of it sucks, but not all of it.” He laughs, finally one that sounds like something you can remember. “Not everything you have to do is bad.”

“Jeonghan, I'm getting married because of you. Because of this,” you say, trying to keep your voice from cracking. “I don't know how to do this. Any of this, not like you, not like Mom, or anyone.”

This, in fact, does make Jeonghan stop. He stills and falls silent. At once, it seems the forest goes quiet too.

“Don’t get married, then.” You don’t respond, so he says it again. “You don’t have to go through with it. Not for my sake, at least.”

“What?”

“I've been thinking about it ever since it happened. I can talk to everyone. You’d rather not be with the guy, right?”

Your tongue freezes in your mouth. You thought you had an answer, but it refuses to come out.

“I have a duty to protect you, too. I’ll be fine with or without the press.”

“Jeonghan,” you say quietly. Many moons ago, you would have laughed at the word duty, but instead, your stomach turns over and over and over. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” is his simple answer. “I want to because I care about you. We can figure out the rest.”

Something in your bones feels heavy. You’d also been waiting to hear those words, but it didn’t feel as freeing as you thought it would. You think about Joshua, his books and his perfectly placed bookmarks, his dumb dad jokes, the way he reaches for your hand, fingertips before palm.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course. The engagement ball is probably happening either way, but it’s no big deal. Bigger engagements have been called off in far worse circumstances.”

You’re having trouble believing him, but you have no other choice. Your life would certainly get a lot easier if everything were to just end. No more press releases, scripts, or awkward pictures. And no more worrying about if you could go out on the weekends or just how much of yourself to give up to make things work.

“There's no rush.” He turns to look at you with the same wild shine in his eyes that you’d grown to miss so much. “Truce?”

That, somehow, you’re much happier to hear. You thought you’d be angrier than this, feel the usual metal-red of your gut, but all that’s left is a sobering feeling of relief, of home. At last, things feel close to normal.

“Truce.”

So you ride and ride, but a decision doesn’t come to you as easily as you thought. The sunset breaks; the word duty clings to you, unshakable, unrelenting.

—

Somehow, you have gone full circle: at the end of a long day, you find yourself back at the piano, much like you did when you were seven, and the only thing you could do right was play Hot Cross Buns.

Joshua had bought an unreasonable amount of music books, half guitar for him, half piano for you. You’d forgotten just how much you had liked playing until that night, many nights ago, when you and he had first muddled through that duet.

Yesterday, you and your parents had tea at the waterfront before you had left the country. You were still undecided on the engagement; frustratingly, the needle hadn’t moved much in either direction since Jeonghan had raised his proposal to you.

Congratulations, your mother had told you, right over her cup of oolong.

For what?

You’ve risen to the occasion. You’ve grown up.

To you, this was not a compliment. You didn’t know what it was. You had twisted the ring on your finger, back and forth, a habit you picked up after all the time you spent wearing it. You wondered if somewhere, you had become exactly like Jeonghan, molded and spun into someone unrecognizable. Maybe that was why Joshua finally seemed to like you.

Have you practiced for your first dance? your father asked, and you no longer had time to worry about the state of your personality—you had other fires to put out.

Really, that’s why you’re at the piano today. You thought you could play the damn tune and somehow remember all the ballroom dancing lessons you had taken when you were younger. Unsurprisingly, it hasn’t worked yet.

There’s a knock at the doorframe. “Come in,” you say, already knowing that it’s Joshua. No one else does that; Jihoon barges in and just starts talking, and you can hear Joshua’s parents from a mile away because of all the jewelry they have on.

“Just wanted to see what you were up to,” Joshua says. He leans against the frame of the piano, already dressed down for the night.

“Nothing,” you reply. “Just magically hoping that I remember how to ballroom dance.”

“Well, first things first, you can’t dance sitting down.” He chuckles, and you pull your lips tight.

“I'm serious, Josh,” you whine.

“You really don’t remember?” He gives you one of those looks, one that you’re quite used to now, with the judgmental wrinkle of the brow. “Didn’t you take lessons?”

“Yeah, like…fifty million years ago.”

“I couldn’t tell,” he says, grinning something foolish. “You don’t look a day over fifty.” Then he offers you his hand, which you take, and he easily pulls you from the bench.

“Flattered,” you say, unable to push down the corners of your smile. “You gonna teach this senior citizen a few moves?”

“Perhaps, as my good deed for the day.” He holds your hand, still firmly in his, and slides it up his arm to rest on his bicep. “Left hand here,” he tells you.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Not yet,” Joshua laughs. “The ballroom hold ring a bell?” His other hand finds your free one, and you interlace fingers simply, easily. Then, the warmth of a hand between your shoulder blades, one that draws you to his chest.

“I think the only dancing I know how to do is half drunk in the dark. Can’t exactly throw it back on you in front of God and country.”

Joshua grins, a big one, and you, traitorously, feel your cheeks get prickly.

“I wouldn't want God looking at you like that,” he teases.

“And country’s already seen it all.”

“They should consider themselves very lucky, then.” His eyes meet yours, lit by the scattered light of the chandelier. “It's my turn to ask you to let me lead.”

“Fine,” you pout, noticing that familiar warmth in your stomach.

Joshua begins to count your steps off (one, two, three—ow, that’s my foot! —sorry!). He’s patient with you, more patient than you think you deserve. His hand seems to slot perfectly into the curve of your back; his gaze settles onto you in a way that makes your chest feel heavy, molten.

“For someone who goes out so much, you have a terrible sense of rhythm,” Joshua says, teasing.

“Hey,” you object. “Maybe I just have a bad teacher.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?”

“Well, I'm not about to blame Britney Spears.”

Joshua laughs, and the sound is so close to you, you can feel it on your skin.

“I still think it’s the student’s fault.”

“Me?!” Perfectly timed, your sock-clad feet collide (yours, striped and fuzzy, his, plain white). “Impossible.”

“Too distracting,” he murmurs, and you notice how unfairly pretty his eyes are. “You bump into me, criticize me, you look at me like that…”

You feel dizzy. You don’t know what Joshua’s doing to you, but it’s mean. Your face is warm, and normally you’d blame it all on the alcohol but you haven’t had any. Worst of all, the soft part of you, the lizard-brained, impulsive part, can’t stop thinking about his lips and how they would feel on yours.

It’s a thought you don’t let linger, much like all of the other half-thoughts you have, and you kiss him, as if it was a reprieve from the terrible, horrible way he’s making you feel. (It isn’t.)

“You talk too much,” you tell Joshua, right against his lips. “Not enough teaching.”

“I'm putting you in remediation.”

“Devastating.”

“And giving you homework.”

“Whatever shall I do?”

Joshua answers that question for you. He kisses you, once, twice, still not enough, and, somehow, things feel more simple than they ever had before.

—

Jihoon’s eyes are dark, dagger-sharp in the rearview mirror.

“We’re coming up,” he says. “A few minutes out.”

“I know,” you answer. Yunjin was successful, almost too successful, in her task of finding you an appropriately revealing dress for a newly engaged twenty-something at the party of the year. The filmy silk stretches around your thighs; the cowl neck flirts with the neckline of the bikini top you have on underneath.

You look good, probably better than how you’ve looked in months. And yet, for some reason, you don’t feel good, at least, not how you’d thought you’d feel on the way to the only event you’d been looking forward to this year.

Somi’s gift rattles in your lap. It’s covered in this loud, hot pink wrapping paper unbecoming of something you had spent years tracking down on the antiques circuit. Normally, you’d have a laugh with Jihoon about it, maybe take some selfies in the car, but instead, you find yourself spinning your ring around your finger like you always seem to do these days.

You think of Jeonghan, of Joshua. Of course, what you do or don’t do on your best friend’s birthday is none of their business (although, very inconveniently, Jeonghan did have some event this weekend, and Joshua was traveling). But still, you think of the boldface headlines, the whispering gossip forums, the washed-out image of you in your little dress on the cover of a cheap magazine. This wasn’t exactly a tame party, and things weren’t just about you anymore, not like they used to be.

Marking your arrival isn’t the GPS nor Jihoon, rather, it’s the firefly buzz of the cameras outside your limo as it’s forced to come to a stop. You squint, trying to see past the tint of your windows, and see Somi, radiant in her birthday tiara, as she pushes through the crowd. Behind her is the villa she rented, illuminated by pink and gold strobe lights.

You crack open the car door and are met with a stifling deluge of camera flashes. Music pulses through the air, enough to feel beneath your heels.

“Who's my favorite princess?” Somi exclaims, throwing her arms open. “You made it! you look hot.”

“Not as hot as the birthday girl,” you reply, and you let her squeeze the air out of you in a wonderful, bone-crushing hug. “What's with all the cameras?”

“Professional photographers. Just wanted something to remember the night by, because we are blacking out.” She giggles, already tipsy. “Come, come, we’re doing shots inside.”

“Without me?”

“We’ll catch you up.”

Somi drags you by the hand through the sea of people, and you watch the cameras follow as they always do. She leads you up the stairs, underneath the towering balloon display, and into the foyer, already darkened, lit only by a disco ball chandelier and the neon backlights.

You spot Soonyoung by a champagne tower that seems twice his size, as promised. He's in a leather jacket, no shirt under, and you watch his eyes light up as they meet yours.

“A shot for her highness,” he shouts over the music.

“I thought this was champagne.”

“Tequila's close enough.” He laughs, eyes upturned, bright like gemstones.

The first shot goes down easy. It always does. So does the second, unsurprisingly. Around the third is when Somi tells you that the strippers are coming in an hour. (—Strippers?! —Not everyone has a fiancé, you know.)

And, just like that, you’re back to the beginning. It’s hard to think over the ridiculously good Kesha mix the DJ is playing, but, terribly, you think you’re starting to understand what Jeonghan was talking about. You’re still not sure how you feel about duty, responsibility, sacrifice, those heavy words that feel impossibly heavier in your mouth, but all you know is that, as much fun as you’re having now, it comes at a fair price.

Somi told you nothing, no compromising pictures, no drama, would reach the press, but, as hard as she may try, you feel like enough people have laid eyes on you already that someone was bound to hear something. If not now, then definitely in a few hours when everyone’s on at least two and a half substances, and all bets are off.

Briefly, you recall your appearance at the derby, the memory like a shard of glass. You had stood guileless next to Joshua, tripping over your words because you hadn’t cared enough to read the damn briefing, and he had covered it up with a dad joke or two. Coming up with those abominations must have been hard enough for someone whose first book was the Oxford Dictionary, but you don’t even think God and all his angels could cover up this. More than that, the thought of everyone having to try anyway makes your gut twist.

Someone tells you to smile for a selfie. You recognize her, but you don’t remember her name (Amelia or Alicia, one of Somi’s friend of a friends. On second glance, there are definitely more than 200 people here). Let's dance! another voice shouts in your ear.

Your head hurts. You hate the idea that Jeonghan might be a little right, but you hate even more that you’re starting to agree with him. Maybe you need another shot.

“Your gift,” you say, fighting over the chorus of Your Love Is My Drug. “Somi!”

“Oh my god, you did not!” she squeals. She clasps her hands over yours, wrapped around the box, and draws them to her. “Let me take it to the table. I’ll meet you by the pool—oh, oh, there’s a hot dog stand out there too!”

“Actually,” you start. You’re not that drunk, not yet, but now you think you can feel the ground start to sway under you. It wouldn’t be too far a stretch to say that in half an hour, after a little time at the bar, you’d probably be spending the night, no question. “I think I have to run.”

“Aw, really?” Somi tilts her head and squints, as if trying to read your mind.

“I am so sorry,” you tell her, as sincerely as one can over a pop song from the 2000s. “Swear I'll make it up to you.”

“Life stuff, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It's ok,” she says. “Really really. Go home, figure your shit out, and we can have our own party.”

She holds your joined hands to her heart. Whatever look you gave her, she believed. That, or she knows you better than you think.

So you leave. The car ride home is silent. Jihoon doesn’t ask questions, and you can still hear the sound of the music ringing in your ears, on and on and on.

—

You think the worst thing you’ve ever woken up to was the Crazy Frog ringtone of one of the guys you had slept with during university.

The second worst has got to be five voice memos and three consecutive missed Facetime calls from Somi, which is the first thing you see upon opening your eyes.

“Oh fuck,” you murmur, still coming to. Your bed is empty, but you see Joshua's suitcase in the corner of the room. He must have come home early this morning, while you were still sleeping.

You crack open your text messages.

–OH MY GOD.

–I AM SO SO SORRY.

–someone must have gotten paid off for last night’s pictures…i had no idea i swear

Then a voice memo. Then another voice memo. then a PopCrave Twitter screenshot: YOU CAN TAKE THE PRINCESS OUT OF THE PARTY–OR CAN YOU? followed by the worst, most incriminating photo of you and Soonyoung, arms linked, throwing back a shot.

“No, no, no, no.” You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the stone-cold drop of your heart to your feet. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Shit. You have to find Joshua and make it right.

Somehow, you thought it wouldn’t matter, that you didn’t care what did or didn’t get out as long as you were able to have a good time—you desperately search for that same feeling, knowing that it’s long, long gone. You don’t even think you truly ever believed that.

You race down the palace hallways, ones that feel far more familiar than the rigid bastions they were when you first got here, but it’s Joshua who finds you before you find him. Or rather, it’s his voice you hear, trickling out from behind the library door.

Suddenly, you’re five again, and you’re spying on Jeonghan talking to your parents. You peek through the crack of the doorframe. As Somi would say, nightmare blunt rotation: there stands Joshua, surrounded by both sets of parents, and no one looks happy.

“We knew it,” another voice says—your mother. “We’re sorry, but we said this would happen.”

“It’s no matter. There’s nothing left to do but call the engagement off.”

The room goes quiet. You notice your hands are shaking. Your face feels numb.

“You’re right. I don't think anyone’s getting what they want out of this, anyway.”

“We’ll cancel the ball. There’s no way around it. Likely a relief, right, Joshua?”

The moment seems to squirm, suspended in time. This is what you were waiting for, right? Your parents were right—no one wanted this anyway. You certainly didn’t, and now you get your get out of jail free card. On top of that, you get to hear what you’d been expecting all along—that Joshua never liked you, that this was fun and all, but he’s ready to stop playing pretend.

“I…I disagree.” You freeze. “She's my fiancée. I made a commitment to her, and I'm not going to walk away.”

“Joshua, my dear, this arrangement was never going to work. You can be honest.”

This is the part where Joshua nods, does his perfectly symmetric smile, and agrees. This is what he does, what he’s been doing since forever. The story always ends the same way. That was the point.

Instead: “I am being honest. Since when was it illegal to go to your best friend’s birthday party? I don't care what the rest of the world has to say. She’s not who they, or you, think she is.” Through the door-gap, you watch the pursed, resolute draw of Joshua’s lips. “You didn’t even invite her here to talk about her own engagement. You never once gave her a chance.”

A stunned silence falls over the room.

“I’m sorry, but this is how I feel. I won't let you take another girl I love from me. Not again.”

Your hand flies over your mouth, and something twists deep in you, like you’re drowning from the inside out. You can’t, won’t, believe what you just heard. That somehow, beyond all the fighting, the quiet nights, the snide remarks and the fake smiles, that Joshua loved you? Loved? Enough to say all that to the people that ruled his life with an iron fist? None of this made sense, but nothing’s made sense since you got here.

The room erupts into noise, peals of voices all colliding into each other, and you do what you do best—you leave.

—

No one talks about that morning. You don’t even think anyone knows you were there—part of you wishes that you actually weren’t, so you didn’t have all this on your mind. (Joshua, later that day: I got you something from Seoul. From his suitcase, a bottle of soju. Just kidding. Then a jade bracelet, so vibrant it looked like the ocean.) No one talked about Somi, and no one talked about the party.

In fact, everyone had just rolled on as usual, all the way to the end of the week, the day of your engagement ball. Even you did. The word love felt so big, so burdensome, when Joshua had said it to his parents, but you didn't mind it on you.

The lingering touches, late night talks, tea made the way you like—nothing really had changed much since shit hit the fan, but now you knew that was the label. You guess that when you told Joshua you had never been in love before, you were really telling the truth. Either that, or he was just saying whatever the hell he needed to stop your engagement from imploding.

Still, you found yourself still reaching for him. There was an unfamiliar comfort about his nearness. You woke up this morning cradled to his side, and, for once, it wasn’t a scene you wanted to erase.

Now, your hairstylist hoses your blowout down with hairspray. You’d spent the better part of this morning sitting in different chairs, hair, makeup, nails. A part of you waits for the other shoe to drop: Joshua’s mother would waltz in and tell you, Surprise! You’re a single woman again, just as you should be.

It never happens. You’re wrapped in various mists and creams and powders, all the while fielding all the same questions about the ball (—Excited for tonight? Yeah, of course. —How does it feel being the surprise couple of the year? Surprising.)

It’s not until Yunjin comes in, wheeling in your giant, sparkly engagement gown, all Italian lace and satin brocade, that things feel real.

The dress itself is beautiful, a pale champagne number, gathered at the waist with a smattering of crystals down the train. Earlier, when you’d first tried it on, it looked like a costume fit for the girl playing wife. It was another smothering thing that hung on you, just like everything else in your life.

Today, you watch your form tall in the mirror. You meet her eyes, her uncertain mouth. It’s you, for sure, but there’s a stillness about you that you can’t quite put a finger on. Maybe Joshua’s demeanor was contagious.

Yunjin laces your bodice up, careful eyelet by eyelet—“You’re nervous, huh?”

“Is it really that obvious?”

She laughs. “Breathe. You’re not getting married. Not yet, at least.”

“Yunjin, isn’t it weird that no one has talked to me about Somi’s birthday? Everyone on the planet saw the leaks.”

“Maybe they finally learned to stop giving a shit. You looked hot, you had a good time, end of story. It’s not like anyone died.”

True. She grabs your shoulders and looks at you through the reflection of the mirror.

“Smile. Enjoy yourself. You look so, so beautiful.” You take a deep, soaking breath. You think about Joshua and all the sharp edges of his voice when he said he loved you. You had argued with him a lot, and you had never heard him like that. “You want this, right?”

Well, when she puts it like that? Yeah, you do. You think you really do.

—

The Great Hall is unrecognizable when you stand before it; the pink and white zinnias have been replaced by bouquets of calla lily and eucalyptus, the arched ceilings, once cold and imposing, now are bathed in the buttery, warm glow of candlelight. And the too-big space, usually empty, is now filled with partygoers, radiant in their best dress.

You stand at the top of the grand staircase. A thrill, anxious and skittering, runs up your bones. You’re reminded of your last big public showing at the derby, of the sea of microphones and the eye of the camera and the crowd, all staring you down.

You run through the cruel motions. First, a curtesy, so slow you think the audience can see you tremble. Then you take the first step down the stairs, and you watch them turn to you like the tanned halo-faces of sunflowers.

There, in the center of the crowd stands Joshua, unwavering. He's wearing a deep blue tuxedo, unfairly flattering (though, the lone curl of hair falling into his eyes is strong competition). Meeting his gaze, you watch the corners of his mouth fold up in a way that reminds you to breathe. In, out. You’ve got this.

Every step, you feel like you’re learning to walk for the first time, like you've lost your sea legs. Amongst the guests, you spot Jeonghan, next to him Jihoon. Then back to Joshua, like your eyes can’t stay away. He shoots you a covert thumbs up—you’d expect nothing less from the corniest man on Earth—but, nonetheless, it makes the long walk to the center of the room feel much shorter, despite the torture devices on your feet (Louboutins, not broken in).

One, two steps, and you’re face to face with your fiancé. Your heart is still racing, thrumming against the cage of your bodice like it's trying to escape. You’re sure the whole congregation could hear it if not for the quartet that’s come to life, now playing the opening notes of Blue Danube.

Yes, that’s right, you tell yourself. You still have to dance in front of the whole fucking country.

Before you crash out and make this a national emergency, you feel the warmth of Joshua’s touch. Fingertips before palm, always the same, he finds your hand, like he manages to do every single time.

“I’ve got you,” he says, low enough for only you to hear. And for the first time, you believe him.

—

Really, you could have gotten away with saying nothing. It would be much easier, to be honest.

The ball had gone off without a hitch so far. The music was good, the food even better, and your parents were somehow silenced, instead opting to dance among the crowd like they were young again. Still, you can’t seem to put your mind at ease. With everything that had happened this week, Jeonghan’s offer only seemed to weigh heavier, more urgently upon you. And of course, there was the matter of Joshua choosing to opt into your engagement, against all odds.

You realize you had gotten quite good at running away from things—your family, your responsibilities, the media, even Joshua—not knowing how to bear the weight of an impossible duty. Actually, you thought it was a royal failing until you had seen Joshua in the library that morning, jaw set, unbending.

“Hey, Josh?” you ask, with a few bats of the eyelashes to soften the blow.

He tilts his head in that way he does, and his gaze softens. Damn you, you think. Trying to distract me with those horrible, pretty eyes.

“Can we talk about Sunday?”

“What about Sunday?” He still looks confused, and you know the look well enough at this point to know he’s not faking it.

“Um…Sunday morning. After the party,” you say slowly, as if giving yourself time to back out, just in case. “I heard you talking with our parents.”

In an instant, his expression changes, and his eyebrows roll into their usual furrow. You feel his hand falter behind your shoulder blades.

“Oh,” Joshua’s voice drops. “That.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, realizing all you do is apologize. “It was supposed to be a small thing, no cameras, I barely even stayed—.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Joshua interrupts. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“I-I know,” you fib. The thing about pretending is that you’ve both become so good at it that you have trouble believing him. “It’s just that I also heard what…what you said.”

Somehow, the wrinkle between his brows grows deeper.

“I said a lot of things that morning.”

You press your lips thin, feeling what you’re about to say ball up on your tongue. Easily, you could change the subject; you didn’t have to know anything, really, you could stay silent and let the world work around you, just as you had been taught. But you watch the soft twist of Joshua’s gaze, how he studies your expression, and you know you can’t go back to how things used to be.

“You said you…” You take a hard swallow. All the blood in your body only wants to exist in the apples of your cheeks, away from your brain where you need it most. “You loved me.”

At once, the world spins off-axis. You feel the anxious flutter of Joshua’s heart under your palm, and your own stomach flips in its cage. The L word coming out of your mouth seems ten-thousand times more ridiculous than anything he could say, probably because you can’t remember the last time you actually said it and it came out all wrong.

He must feel the same way. For once, he can’t meet your eyes. His mouth opens and then closes, as if hoping to delete what you had just said. Maybe you would just keep dancing, beat by beat, and this would all go away.

Silly girl, you think, traitorously. Pick a damn side. Either he likes you or he doesn’t. The problem is that, somehow, both options hurt your feelings.

“I mean, I totally get it if you just said it to keep up the act,” you cut in. “There are a lot of reasons why this is a good idea.”

“The act?”

“Well, yeah,” you reply. “Isn’t that what this is? Haven’t we just been lying to everyone? To ourselves?”

Joshua’s hand at your waist stiffens before he draws you closer to him. You expect him to roll his eyes, do one of those exaggerated sighs that he does when you’re being difficult.

Instead he leans in, close enough for you to feel his voice against your skin.

“Do you think I was lying back there? Or now?”

Your heart lurches.

“I—no, but.” You pause. Every single coherent thought you’ve ever had scatters to the wind. “Well.”

“Because I’m not,” Joshua says, this time, more softly. “Not about this. Or us.”

“But how? Why?” You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your chest swell in a way it never has before. “You’re perfect, and I'm…I’m me.”

“That’s why,” he answers, simply. “You’re smart, funny, honest—sometimes too honest, even. You reminded me there was a better version of me that I had left behind. One that wasn’t perfect, but was happy.”

He holds you in his gaze the same way he did in the garden, carved by moonlight. An impossible warmth fills your skin; at once, it feels like, in your vision, there is only him, like you're in a cartoon.

“At the same time, I understand if—” Joshua starts.

“I feel the same,” you blurt out. “I…I don’t know what this is, and I don’t think I ever really did, but I want to try.”

You watch the surprise write itself all over his doe eyes, his unfairly rounded cheeks. From by the hors d'oeuvres, nosy Jeonghan peeks over the shoulder of another guest, already familiar with your lack of volume control. You watch him grin something stupid, triumphant.

“You’re uptight, judgmental, and you make the worst jokes. But I…I think I might be falling for you too.”

Saying it is like getting peeled back, terrible layer by layer, like you wrapped a hand around your heart and ripped it out your chest. And yet you’re glowing, newly-bitten with something that feels like freedom.

“I thought you said I was perfect,” Joshua says, the pink of his lips already unraveling into a smile. This one, you think, finally reaches his eyes.

“Shush, you—” And amongst a chorus of Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! (which would be, quite frankly, humiliating in any other scenario), you finally give in to your adoring public, and kiss.

—

The walk back to your bedroom is a blur. All you remember are hands—hands on the small of your back, hands riding up the length of your thigh, hands in your hair, pulling at your roots. You remember hands, and the taste of Joshua’s mouth.

It’s a walk you are not proud of, one that you’re glad happened in the dark, with all the guests gone home.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?” Joshua says, pressed to the hollow of your neck as you fumble with the handle of the door to your room. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you. No one could.”

Then his lips on yours, before you finally remember how to open a door.

“Fuck, Josh,” you breathe between kisses, stumbling backwards until your back hits the vanity. “Need you, need you so bad.”

He bites your lip, lets you sigh into his mouth.

“Dress, off,” you tell him, and you lean forward on the table. Obediently, Joshua gets to work. His touch feels fiery, electric on your skin.

In the mirror, you’re able to see the damage: your lipstick, smudged beyond repair, your blown-out pupils under your heavy lashes. There’s a hickey on your collarbone.

“Now you have me wishing you'd wear one of those party dresses,” Joshua murmurs, still working at the lacing at your waist. “Far easier to take off.”

“Really. The same ones that got me in big trouble with you lot?"

"For what it's worth," he replies, before kissing the back of your neck, then the ticklish space under your ear to make you laugh. "I always liked you in those. Even before we met."

"No way." He’s finished with the lacing; your dress falls to your feet in a glorious heap of silk and lace, leaving you in your slip. Another kiss to your jaw, your cheek. "You hated them."

"I almost bought a copy of Insider, the one with the cover of you in the black dress with the long sleeves."

"Shut up," you laugh again, somewhere in between kisses. He’s talking about Soonyoung's New Year’s Eve party, a few years back. You were getting out the back of a cab, alcohol-flushed and on a phone call with God knows who. "I still have it, you know. I could wear it for you one of these days."

"Don't tempt me." Joshua kneels, bending down to undo your heels. You feel him press his lips to the back of your knee, your thigh. “Friday. Dinner?”

“Done.”

Then he stands back to full height and leans into you, just so you can feel him. Like clockwork, your skin prickles wonderfully even just thinking about blowing him in the back of the limo, that night he had held you down on his cock.

Joshua must see how you squeeze your legs together. He pushes your slip up over the curve of your ass; you feel the rough of his hands over your skin, over the flimsy lace you have on for underwear. Then, before you can say a word, he pulls the waistband back, meanly, enough to tug on the hood of your clit, and lets it snap back against your skin.

“Oh, fuck,” you keen. You had no idea you were so sensitive, but Joshua’s foreplay game was way better than you thought. “Please, Shua.”

“Oh? So you like when I'm a little mean?”

You watch your face in the mirror flush pink, your bitten lips fall open in surprise. He pulls tight on your panties again, loving how your eyes squeeze shut.

“Maybe.” You pause, humiliated. Fuck it, the cat’s already out of the bag. “Yeah.”

Joshua’s hands are warm, so warm, when they peel the fabric down your trembling thighs.

“Legs apart, darling,” he tells you, mouth pressed to your shoulder. “So you like to boss me around the castle, but now you want me to tell you what to do? Is that so?”

Before you can answer, you feel a finger along the seam of your cunt. You can’t see Joshua’s face in the mirror, but you can sure see yours, and you hate how even the smallest of touches has you drooling. Then a touch to your swollen clit, just rough enough to draw a gasp from you.

“I-it’s different,” you protest. Two fingers now, both rolling your clit under them. A whimper tumbles out of your chest, and your hips seem to be moving on their own accord. “Didn’t know you had…experience.”

“Still not sure what made you think otherwise.” A quiet chuckle, then the slow, agonizing push of one of his fingers inside you. “Fuck, you love that, huh? Soaking my hand.”

“Yeah…” The vanity table suddenly feels too crowded to support the weight of your body, especially like this, as Joshua continues to work your clit with his other digit. Feeling your body surge again with heat, you push aside your makeup bag, all your stupid little bottles, so you can prop yourself up on your arms.

Another finger, and your legs are shaking. Quickly, he seems to have figured out how to hit your g-spot every time, every pump of his hand knocking into you just the way you like.

“I think it was how annoying you were that did you in,” you finally answer, trying your best to put up a fair fight. “Kinda detracts from your sex appeal.”

“Annoying?” Joshua asks, right up against the shell of your ear. Like this, you can see him in the mirror, and it almost sends you over. The dark hair in his face, the insatiable look in his eyes. Then a third finger, and your eyes roll back. “Am I annoying you? Doesn’t really seem like it.”

Your body answers for you. You feel yourself tighten around his fingers, fuck, you’re so close, you feel your head start to spin. You watch your reflection shake her head, glassy-eyed and dumb.

He laughs cruelly. His free hand reaches up to find your tits, and, over the slip, he grabs one, rough like he’s a meaner man, like he’s slutting you out.

At once, you feel the lightning heat of your release. You cry out, airy and high-pitched, and feel your body rock against Joshua’s as he pins you between himself and the vanity.

“There you go,” he murmurs. His hand slows, letting you ride out your high, before he pulls out. “Wanted to do this ever since I kissed you that night.”

“Which night?” you ask, catching your breath. A kiss to your shoulder blade, the nape of your neck.

“The night you taught me to kiss. Or rather, tried to.”

Ah, yes. The night you told him what Shark Tale was, and the night you made out for so long, you felt it on your lips in the morning. Dumb fucking Joshua, stupid and in love. The affection that surges through your body makes you mad.

“You needed lessons.”

“Not really, don’t you think?”

“Bed. You’re talking too much,” you insist, turning around to see him. “Also, you’re wearing too much.”

“Back to arguing with me, I see. Can’t stay away.” Joshua’s shit-eating grin prompts you to yank his tie impatiently, shutting him up. It comes off easily, just as his belt and the waistband of his slacks. (You weren’t about to let them best you a second time).

“Maybe ‘cause you find a way to be difficult about everything.” You wrinkle your nose, and Joshua’s grin only grows wider. “Don’t make me give you another order,” you warn, fully aware that since you guys got here, it’d been him doing the orders.

You pull your slip over your head, now only in your bra, and lay back in the bed. You think of all the sleepless nights, then the ones spent talking, the ones in his arms. To think they would all culminate to this, to you now watching Joshua undo button by button with a desire unlike any other you’ve felt—it would almost be unbelievable if you weren’t doing it right now.

Like a striptease, you watch his chest peek out between the linen of his shirt. He's wearing a necklace today, one that settles meanly between his pecs. As he moves lower, you can’t help but notice the outline of his cock in his briefs, the spot of precum on the fabric.

Traitorously, you feel your mouth water. The shirt comes off, and your lungs fill with another shaky breath.

You know you’re both letting your freak flag fly (one of you more surprising than the other) but it’s in this moment, caught in the lamplight, that you realize how much things have really changed. Still, you’re not able to tell Joshua that this is the first time you’re sleeping with someone you might be in the L word with, but you think he sees it too, or at least, reads the look on your face.

You feel the dip of the bed underneath as he joins you.

“Are you ok? That wasn’t too much, right?”

“No, it was…it was good. really good,” you admit, feeling your face heat up again. “I just…I dunno. I like you a lot, that’s all.”

“Hm?”

“I—” you stutter, and your mouth freezes up again. “I said I like you a lot.”

“Sorry, I just wanted to hear you say it twice.” He sees the dismay on your face and smiles. “Hm…I like you an adequate amount. On a good day.”

Against your will, you crack the fattest smile you think your body is capable of. “You are the worst. The absolute worst, and I still want you to fuck me.”

Upon hearing this, Joshua does not waste time. That he does—it isn’t long before he has your knees hiked to your chest, cock between your pussy lips.

“Say you want it,” he whispers. You feel the cold kiss of his chain on your chest, the slick rock of his length between your legs. He's so hard, so big, your cunt already aches at the thought of it.

“Want it.” Your voice comes out small, breathy. You would fight back, but you’re realizing you quite like this side of him. “Please.”

When the head of his cock presses into you, there is no hiding. Already, you moan, sweet and loud, feeling the familiar pressure in your gut.

“K-keep going,” you babble. Fuck, he barely fit in your mouth and now he’s stuffing your cunt. You wrench your eyes shut, listening to him talk you through it (—Look at you taking me so well. Feels good, huh? You’re so beautiful. Honestly, it’s a miracle Joshua’s ex never had a royal baby with how much they must have fucked.)

Your second orgasm comes quickly, not long after Joshua bottoms out. He groans right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder, and it’s the best noise you think you’ve heard in your life.

The third comes slowly, more intensely. With your knees to your chest, you think you can feel Joshua all the way in your stomach. Every stroke fucks the sound out of you, his cockhead right up against your sweet spot as he fills you again and again. Sometime between orgasm two and three, he’s pulled your tits out from your bra, left marks across your chest.

“Want you to touch yourself,” he tells you, voice low.

Mindlessly, you listen. One hand finds your nipple, the other your clit, and you let yourself get lost in the feeling.

“F-feels good, Shua.” He enters you again, all the way, and the pleasure is white-hot. “O-oh, fuck,” you warble.

“You’re so good at listening to me, you should do it all the time,” he murmurs. “There you go. Take it, take it, just like that. This must be what I have to do to get you to be nice, hm?”

All you can do is stare up at him, positively fucked dumb, and take it, just as he told you to. One, two strokes, and you feel yourself get impossibly tight; “Fill me, need it, need it,” you whine, delirious. Everything from the look in his eyes, the flushed sweat over his brow, his collarbones to the way his expression responds with every word you say, makes you wonder why you wasted time fucking anyone else.

When he comes, he bites your shoulder, hard, and it’s what you need to follow soon after. You feel so fucking full, so satisfied, you think you could die happy here.

Joshua flops down on the bed next to you, boneless. You think he’s about to say something akin to that you should have put a towel down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls your body to him, lets you feel the warmth of his skin play against yours.

He’s murmuring wonderful things to you, which you would gladly reciprocate if words weren’t coming to you one letter a minute. It’s not your fault though—you need to recover physically, emotionally, spiritually after getting the soul fucked out of you.

Then, “Me or you shower first?”

You groan as a response.

“I’m serious.”

“Together?” you offer weakly.

“Fair chance we won’t just be showering then.”

“Oh nooo.”

That’s all Joshua needs to whisk you to the bathroom, where, indeed, he seems to be right yet again.

—

The spring morning washes over Acros like a second skin. The birdsong rouses you; through the curtains comes sunlight from the garden, spackled on the wall as if spots on a doe.

It’s been almost a year since your parents had told you that you were marrying Joshua Hong, prince of Acros. Six months since he had told you he had loved you. Two months since you and Jeonghan had pulled off your first joint production at the youth theater (a roaring success). One month since you were fully, fully moved in, Astrid and Jihoon included.

After your engagement ball, you and Joshua had agreed to take it slow, as slow as two people who had very publicly announced their wedding could. But still, somehow your parents, both sets, could tolerate the two of you wanting to do things the right way. Perhaps they were still shocked things worked out as well as they did.

“Morning,” you call out. The bed beside you is cold. “Josh?”

You’re surprised he’s up. Last night, he went out with you, Somi, and Soonyoung. Somehow, he had drunk enough to get up and solo karaoke a Whitney Houston song, although you’re suspecting the alcohol was just a cover for his true intentions.

Then you look out the window. You spot Joshua, seated on the bench overlooking the garden. This time of year, the roses are in full bloom, their bright heads reaching for the sky in brilliant red and gold.

When you go to join him outside, he’s no longer at the bench. You actually don’t know where the fuck he went, but it’s no matter. Here, you’re able to appreciate the beauty of the season, the rolling green of the country you’re now calling home.

It was also here where you had your first real conversation with Joshua without fighting, funnily enough. Now, you’d say the both of you were more agreeable, but that’d be a lie—somehow, you think you actually enjoy bickering with him, but that’s a conversation for another day.

Behind you, someone (Joshua) clears his throat.

“Now, what are you—” you say, spinning around. It was too damn early for games, but Joshua had no shortage of bad ideas.

It’s then that you see Joshua behind you, on one knee. His smile tells you everything you have to know, and every thought in your mind freezes in an instant.

“When I first saw you, I knew I would marry you,” he starts. That's a joke he’s probably been saving for months now, but instead of rolling your eyes, you can’t help but laugh, like you’re a broken soundboard. “No, really.”

You stand there, immovable. Of course you had to be in your pajamas (his shirt and boxers, really), no makeup, hair untouched. And yet, you can’t imagine anything more perfect.

“You drive me crazy,” Joshua continues. “In every way possible. I can't imagine life without your laugh, or your thinking face, or how you always need to have an answer for everything.”

He produces a small box. It’s different from the first one, the one he used all those months ago when nothing mattered. Inside it, a new ring, something far simpler and more beautiful.

Joshua says your name, wonderful and reverent in his mouth. “Darling princess of Cotria, I'm asking you to marry me. Again.”

And you say yes, for the very first time.

[END]

#mine #joshua x reader #joshua x you #joshua imagines #joshua scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #joshua #joshua hong #seventeen smut #joshua smut

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societyfolklore · 3 months ago

Text

Under Brooklyn Stars

Title: Under Brooklyn Stars Pairing: Young!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: On a sweltering summer night in 1936, you and Bucky Barnes find yourselves alone on your shared rooftop escape. What starts as quiet conversation about dreams of leaving Brooklyn turns into something far more intense- something neither of you can hold back anymore.

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Childhood friends to lovers, Smut, Fluff, Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Young/teen love (Both 18+ though), Messy Kisses, Semi Public Sex (roof top)

A/N: my entry for @avengers-assemble-bingo for Bucky 108th Bday event Square: B1 – Childhood Friends to Lovers Card Number: 4B003 The rooftop had always been your special place. You’d all been coming up here for a while now, somewhere private when your family's apartment started to feel too small, and you were getting too old to just ‘wander around.’ Your father didn’t think it was ‘ladylike’ or 'proper' to be sitting out on the stoop with teenage boys, even though you, Steve, and Bucky had all been friends since Mrs. Jackson's class in elementary school. The roof remained your secret escape from the loud siblings, nosey parents, stuffy rooms, and the judging eyes of the Brooklyn borough. It was where you'd grown up in quiet rebellion- where laughter echoed into the night, where secrets were whispered between best friends, and where the lines between childhood and something more had slowly started to blur.

Steve had been with you earlier, but he’d left to walk his mother home from her shift at the hospital, leaving you and Bucky alone.

Tonight, the heat still clung to the buildings, wrapping around you like a heavy embrace. The salty tang of the East River carried on the breeze, mingling with the smoky scent of grilled meat from street vendors and the faint, lingering warmth of sunbaked brick. Bucky lay out on the picnic blanket you’d dragged up here weeks ago, long legs stretched out, his sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone at the collar. The book in his hands- your book- propped open against his chest, well-loved pages fluttering slightly in the warm air.

“You plannin’ some kind of great escape, Doll?” he teased, turning the book toward you to show the scribbled notes in the margins of Around the World in 80 Days.

You shrugged, a little embarrassed as you stepped away from the rooftop’s edge and back toward the blanket as you sat down, smoothing out the fabric of your dress, suddenly self-conscious. “Can’t stay in the boroughs forever.”

He hummed, a soft smile curling at the edges of his lips. “No? And where would you go?”

“Everywhere.” The dream was foolish- impossible, even. But you admired the Irish neighbours who had come searching for something more. If they could do it, why couldn’t you? “Anywhere I don’t know...London, Paris, see the Pyramids, ride the Orient Express, sail on a Junk Boat around the waters of Hong Kong.."

You felt his eyes on you, the way he’d put the book down and rolled onto his side, fully focused. That was the thing about Bucky- when he listened, he really listened.

“What about you?” you asked, tilting your head to study him.

“Me?” His brows lifted slightly, as if the thought had never occurred to him.

“What would make you happy?”

For a moment, he hesitated, something unreadable passing through his blue eyes before he murmured, “Dunno, sweetheart. Think I’d be happy if I just had you.”

The words hit you like a strike of lightning, stealing the air from your lungs. When had he started looking at you like that? Smiling at you like that? This was Bucky- the same boy who had once handed you his lost tooth so you could get extra pocket money for sweets. The same boy who had splashed you with river water after you’d shoved him in with Steve, laughing so hard you could barely breathe. You had grown up together, had spent years tangled in each other’s lives, but this- this wasn’t the same.

Bucky was always charming, always saying sweet things- but this wasn’t just teasing anymore. His voice held something deeper, something raw and unguarded, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Your lips parted, but no words came. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear with the gentlest touch. The warmth of his fingertips lingered against your skin, making your stomach twist into something hot and desperate.

“Bet nowhere on earth’s prettier than those eyes of yours,” he murmured.

Your breath caught. The city buzzed faintly beneath you, a distant hum of life carrying on, while above, the stars shimmered like scattered diamonds. But none of it mattered- all you could focus on was the man beside you, the way his eyes darkened as he leaned in, closing the space between you. And when Bucky leaned in, closing the space between you, you didn’t stop him. Didn’t want to.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant- like he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you melted into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as his lips moved against yours with slow, aching intent.

And then it changed.

Desire tightened in your chest, years of unspoken longing unraveling all at once, too much to contain. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as your mouths collided again, desperate now. You gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss as his fingers traced the curve of your spine, dragging you closer. Heat surged between you, and suddenly, the summer air wasn’t the only thing making you feel breathless.

“Bucky,” you whispered, barely a plea, barely a warning.

He groaned, his hands shaking slightly as they slid down your waist, fingertips gripping at the fabric of your dress like he needed something to hold onto. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, open-mouthed kisses against fevered skin. Your heart pounded, body thrumming with a heat that had nothing to do with the summer night.

You pushed your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly just to hear the low, needy sound that escaped his throat. He pulled you fully onto his lap, the rough fabric of his trousers pressing against your bare thighs. His hands slipped beneath the hem of your dress, fingertips skimming over your thighs, tracing soft patterns against your skin before his touch became more insistent, more certain. He was hesitant, but not unsure- like he was savouring each new inch of you, learning your body as he went. The contrast of his rough fingers against your soft skin sent a shiver through you, heat pooling low in your belly as he explored, as if committing every touch to memory.

“Jesus,” he muttered against your skin, like he was overwhelmed, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. His hands flexed against your hips, fingers digging in like he needed to ground himself.

Your breath hitched as you shifted against him, the pressure between your bodies making your stomach tighten, making you both gasp. A blush burned hot across your cheeks, the intimacy of it all hitting you suddenly- how close you were, how little space was left between you.

His forehead pressed against yours, breath ragged, blue eyes blown wide as he searched your face. “We don’t- ” he started, voice thick, unsure.

“I know,” you interrupted, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, your own breath unsteady. “But I don’t want to stop.”

His lips crashed against yours again, any hesitation melting away as need overtook caution. His hands roamed, his touch firmer now, like he’d accepted what was happening, what you both wanted. You gasped into his mouth as his hands pushed your dress higher, his palms skimming up your thighs, rough fingertips sending sparks through your skin.

“You know,” he muttered between kisses, his lips brushing against your jaw, “I’ve wanted to touch you for so damn long.”

Your breath hitched as he tilted your chin up, his nose grazing yours. “Since when?”

He groaned softly, fingers flexing against your thighs. “Since I saw you kiss Sam Haynsworth in the park.”

You winced at the memory. Unlike Bucky, Sam had practically drooled into your mouth, and the recollection of it made you cringe. “God, don’t remind me.”

Bucky chuckled, but there was something darker, hungrier in the way his hands tightened around your waist. “Was jealous as hell, y’know?” His voice was low, rough. “Wanted to be the one kissin’ you like that… bein’ the one touchin’ you.”

Heat curled low in your belly, his confession sending a fresh wave of want through you. “Bucky…”

“Wanna touch you so bad,” he whispered, his lips tracing a heated path down your throat, his hands sliding higher under your dress, fingertips grazing over the soft cotton of your underwear. A shaky breath escaped you as he rubbed slow, teasing circles, pressing just enough to make your thighs tremble around him.

A soft sound slipped from your lips, something between a sigh and a whimper, and Bucky let out a low, shuddering breath at the movement. His other hand gripped your waist, grounding you against him, against the undeniable hardness beneath his slacks. The heat between you burned hotter, more desperate. You reached down, fingers fumbling against the fabric of his trousers, feeling the solid length of him beneath your palm. He sucked in a sharp breath, forehead pressing against yours as he let out a low, needy curse.

“I’d be so good to you, Doll, if you let me,” he murmured, voice rough with restraint. “You want that, don'cha?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, overwhelmed by how much you did want it, how much you wanted him.

“I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go,” he promised, his fingers pressing more firmly, sending a shiver through you. His lips brushed yours, teasing, coaxing. “Just tell me you’re my girl.”

Your breath trembled as you met his gaze, the weight of his words pressing into you as much as his touch.

"I'm your girl," you whispered, the confession slipping past your lips before you could second-guess it.

Bucky's breath hitched, and then he was moving, shifting, his hands firm yet careful as he eased you down onto the picnic blanket. The fabric was warm against your back, but all you could focus on was him- his weight pressing into you, the way his breath ghosted over your skin. He hovered for a moment, eyes searching yours, like he was memorizing this, savouring the way you looked beneath him before he finally dipped down, capturing your lips again in a kiss that was all heat and promise. His body flush against yours, the weight of him pressing you into the softness below. His mouth found yours again, hungrier now, lips parting to deepen the kiss as his hands roamed- gripping, teasing, worshipping.

His fingers slipped back beneath your dress again, rubbing slow, deliberate circles through the thin cotton of your underwear, drawing out breathless gasps from you. Your thighs trembled, hips rolling instinctively into his touch, craving more, needing more. Bucky groaned, his forehead pressing to yours as he watched you, his expression dark with want. "Bu-Buck.." Your voice getting stuck in your throat as your mouth went dry.

“You feel so good,” he rasped, his fingers dipping just a little lower, teasing the edge of the fabric. “Been dreamin’ about this, Doll… ‘bout you.”

Your breath hitched as your hand found him again, palming him through his slacks, feeling how hard he was, how much he needed this- how much he needed you. His hips jerked at the contact, a low curse slipping from his lips as he dropped his head against your shoulder.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he muttered, breath ragged. “You’re gonna a guy doing that.”

But he didn’t stop. Instead, he seized the moment, fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down over your thighs and knees. His first brush of his fingers against your bare skin sent a sharp jolt through you, a choked gasp slipping from your lips. He groaned at the sound, his forehead pressing to yours as his fingers explored, stroking through the damp heat he found there.

“Good?” he rasped, voice thick with want. “Been thinking about this, about you, for so damn long, how you'd feel. All the little noises you'd make."

Your fingers, trembling with urgency, found the button of his slacks, undoing it with clumsy desperation. He sucked in a sharp breath as your hand slipped inside, wrapping around him properly for the first time. The weight, the heat of him in your palm, had you swallowing hard, a thrill rushing through you at the way his whole body tensed beneath your touch.

“Christ Doll..” he groaned, hips jerking instinctively into your grip. “Ya keep doin’ that- ”

You stroked him slowly, revelling in the way his breath hitched, in the way his fingers momentarily faltered against you before resuming their teasing, sinful movements. He was unravelling, just as much as you were, the rooftop heat wrapping around you both, the world narrowing to just him.

Bucky’s fingers curled slightly, pressing into you just right, pulling a sharp moan from your throat. He didn’t stop, pushing deeper, his pace slow but deliberate, drawing out every little sound from you that he could. Your hips lifted to meet him, your thighs trembling as he stretched you open, teasing that spot inside you that made your breath hitch.

His gaze flickered up to meet yours, eyes dark and searching. "You like that, don’tcha?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your cheek. "Feels good?"

You nodded, your breath shuddering. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "So good, Bucky. Please- don’t stop."

He groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as his fingers moved faster, sliding in and out with more purpose, more confidence now that he knew just how much you wanted it. "Jesus, Doll," he muttered,. "You’re so tight… squeezing me so damn good." He lowered his head nipping lightly at your neck.

Your whole body tighten at his words, and as you pumped him in return, wrapping your fingers tighter around him, Bucky let out a strangled curse. The combination of your touch, the way your body responded to him- it was too much.

“Fuck,” he gritted, his hips jerking into your hand, his fingers faltering inside you for just a moment before he pulled them away. His lips crashed onto yours, desperate and wild, as he yanked your dress up past your waist, hands shaking with need. "Can’t take it- need you, Doll. Need all of you. Now."

You whimpered in response, fumbling at his slacks, pushing them down his hips with clumsy urgency, your hands shaking just as much as his. He helped, shoving them down far enough for you to feel the hot, rigid length of him pressing against your thigh. The sensation sent a jolt through you, your body tensing in anticipation.

“Bucky,” you gasped as he settled between your legs, his weight pressing you into the blanket, the sheer need in his expression making your breath stutter.

His breath hitched, pulling back to take in your face. “Tell me you want this,” his eyes pleading, he needed to hear it just once more.

“I want this," you whispered, arching into him, your legs wrapping around his waist. "I want you."

A low, broken moan escaped him, and then he was kissing you again, his hands gripping your hips as he pushed forward, as the last barrier between you was lost.

And then, for a moment, everything stilled.

Your breaths mingled, hot and uneven, filling the space between you as your bodies adjusted to the closeness, the intensity, the overwhelming feeling of it all. His forehead dropped to yours, both of you panting, bodies trembling, hearts racing in sync.

Bucky’s hands flexed against your hips, as if grounding himself, his grip firm but reverent. “Jesus,” he murmured, voice wrecked, his lips ghosting over yours, not quite kissing, just feeling you. "You- You alright, Doll?"

You nodded, chest rising and falling against his, your fingers threading into his hair as you breathed him in. "Yeah," you whispered, your voice shaky but sure. "You?"

This wasn’t your first time, but it might as well have been. Nothing before had ever felt like this- this heat, this intensity, the way every nerve in your body seemed attuned to him, how every shift, every breath, sent sparks through your veins. It was different because it was him- because it was Bucky.

He let out a shuddering breath, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw. "I don’t ever wanna forget this," he confessed, the admission raw, vulnerable. "You feel so good."

Your hands smoothed down his back, nails lightly raking over his skin, anchoring yourself to him. "Me neither," you murmured. "I need you to move, Buck. Please."

He groaned at your words, at the way you tightened your legs around him, silently urging him on. And then, slowly, he did, rolling his hips, setting a rhythm that made stars explode behind your eyes, your head falling back with a breathless moan.

Bucky cursed under his breath, burying his face against your neck as he moved, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. "God, Doll... you feel so damn good," he murmured, voice thick with emotion, with need. "Been wantin' you like this for so long."

You gasped, your fingers gripping his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin as his body rocked into yours, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. "Me too, Bucky," you whispered, voice shaking. "Feels arh so good... don't stop."

His pace stuttered at your words, a groan breaking from his lips as he kissed you, messy and desperate. His hands slid down your thighs, gripping them tighter as he drove into you, the slow, deep drag of him making your breath catch. The night air wrapped around you both, the rooftop world fading as all you could focus on was him- his weight, his heat, the way he filled you so perfectly. "God! Oh God- Buck." Your voice getting higher as each stroke sent pleasure up your spine, your body tightening around him. He felt it- felt you trembling beneath him, felt the way your walls fluttered around him, pulling him deeper. "Yeah Doll- That’s it," he groaned, his voice wrecked. "C'mon, sweetheart. Give it to me."

The tension inside you snapped, pleasure crashing over you in a dizzying wave. You cried out, your body clenching around him, and Bucky let out a strangled moan, his hips movements growing erratic. He tried to hold on, to make this last, but feeling you fall apart around him, the way you gasped his name- it undid him completely.

"Fuck- Doll- " His hips jerked, his rhythm breaking as he buried himself deep, his release overtaking him. His breath came in ragged, shuddering gasps as he pressed his forehead to yours, holding you so tightly like he was afraid to let go.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Your breaths mingled, still uneven, both of you trying to steady the whirlwind of sensations still coursing through your bodies. The stars blinked above, the hum of Brooklyn alive in the distance, but here- wrapped up in each other- it was quiet. Just the two of you, bodies tangled, hearts pounding in sync.

Bucky brushed his nose against yours, his lips ghosting over your cheek before pressing the softest kiss to your temple. "You okay?"

You smiled, breathless, brushing a hand through his damp hair. "More than okay. You?"

He let out a low chuckle, kissing you again, slow and lingering. "Never been better, Doll."

The rooftop was quiet, sacred, the summer air wrapping around you both as you lay tangled together, skin still warm, hearts still racing.

Bucky exhaled, his fingers tracing lazy circles along your spine. "Guess we finally got our escape, huh?" He smiled against your skin, voice warm and drowsy, as if the whole world had narrowed down to just this- just you. "Maybe not the one you planned, but still pretty damn perfect."

You hummed, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. "Guess so."

He shifted, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers, eyes searching yours. "Still wanna see the world?"

You nodded, a soft smile playing at your lips. "Yeah. But I think I found the most important part already."

Bucky grinned, brushing his lips over yours in the faintest kiss, his voice nothing but a whisper against your skin. "Wherever you go, Doll… I go too."

142 notes · View notes

hannieween · 1 year ago

Text

stargazing | city lights series | h.js

Joshua should've known the minute he saw you standing outside his door for the first time. Then, maybe he would've gotten the opportunity to make things right with you. But no, he let his hedonistic ways get in the way first. Now, will he get the opportunity to make things right with you?

✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader ✮ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ✮ aus: rock singer joshua, neighbours with benefits ✮ word count: 17k

↣ part i – part ii – part iii – part iv – navi post – other fics

₊🎧: guilty - taemin ♡︎ | dumb - i.m ♡︎ | say you love me - kai ♡︎ | accident - woodz ♡︎ ₊ nsfw warnings under the cut!!

✮ warnings: smut with plot, dom joshua, sub reader, big dick joshua, thigh grinding while joshua is on the phone [i love that cliché let me be], fingering (f), multiple unprotected sex scenes, exhibitionism: being heard by others during sex, brat taming: spanking and a bit of edging, oral sex (f), cowgirl, creampies [yes, plural], pet names: pretty, baby, bunny, sweetheart, princess (hers) this is loosely proofread

part v

Joshua couldn't believe his ears.

He sat there frozen, phone still pressed to his ear. The line had gone dead a minute ago, Jihoon who was on the other side hung up after getting a barely coherent response from Joshua.

He blinked himself back to reality.

Apparently, someone had scouted them from the rock festival a week ago and were in talks with his manager. So Joshua had just learned that Midnight Haze had been picked up to open for a huge band a weekend straight.

Jihoon had called him to confirm the news, and to tell him to get his shit in order to travel overseas.

"Are you alright, bro?" he heard a voice in the distance.

Seokmin was standing in the kitchen, looking out to the living room as he munched on a pop tart.

"Yeah," he breathed, finally getting off the phone. "I'm just shocked, that's it."

"What happened?" his roommate asked slowly, approaching the couch.

"I'm... leaving in a few days," Joshua frowned, the news sinking in. "For a couple of shows."

Seokmin arched his eyebrows in surprise. "Dude, that's awesome!" the younger man slapped his shoulder and squeezed it. "Congrats!"

"Thanks, man," Joshua sighed. "I'm still processing it."

"I can see," Seokmin chuckled lightly.

Joshua checked his phone absentmindedly, he tapped on the conversation he had with you to check if you had read it yet. His knee had started bouncing nervously when he saw he had no reply from you yet.

Are you pushing him away again?

He got up from the couch and without a word to his roommate he left the apartment and walked straight to the fire exit and went up the stairs.

The rooftop was deserted, as he should've expected. There he stood, breathless and feeling stupid. He was working on his self-deprecating thoughts, but he couldn't help but feel a little dumb as he stepped into the large open space.

It was a special spot, Joshua felt like it was becoming more his thing than yours—given that he rarely saw you in there anymore. So he picked his phone again, and didn't let the several flights of stairs go to waste.

He called his mom, let her know the news. They talked for about an hour, the conversation had moved from the news and turned into a conversation about his life. His mom asked him normal stuff—how he's been, what he's been doing, if he's taking care.

When it was time to hang up, he returned to his apartment with a content smile on his face.

"What are you doing tonight?" his roommate asked, eyeing him cautiously. He'd been doing that the last few days, Joshua didn't know the reason why.

"Uuh, tonight. Tuesday. Nothing, dunno yet. Why?" Joshua sat down on the couch again with a tired sigh. Going up to the rooftop was an incredibly effective exercise.

"Are you interested in going to the aquarium?"

"Aquarium?" he parroted, his attention drawn from his phone. "Uh, yeah. Okay."

"Yeah, I got two tickets for an aquarium night but it turns out that my girl also bought two tickets for another night. So, sharing is caring right?" his roommate smiled sweetly at the brief mention of his girlfriend.

"Oh, oh. I get it," Joshua laughed awkwardly. "Thanks, man."

"So maybe you can take our neighbor for a nice date," he muttered with a cough.

"What?" Joshua choked, eyes widened.

"I know you've been... seeing her. Right?" Seokmin muttered shyly, the tips of his ears glowing brightly red.

"How do you know? Do you even know her?" Joshua asked slowly, not denying anything.

"We've met once. But that's not the point—every time she gets home it's like she's whistled and you go running to her," he frowned.

"Did you just compare me to a trained dog, Dk?" Joshua laughed.

"It sounded better in my head. But not only that, I've heard you guys. You're not exactly quiet, and—I mean, how many Joshuas could there be in this city?" Seokmin blinked and looked upward, clearly ashamed of himself.

Joshua scoffed hard. "Sorry about that."

Though he was obviously not sorry.

"Please accept the entrances," Seokmin muttered meekly.

Joshua thought about it for half a minute. "Yeah, okay."

Seokmin exhaled. "I'll send you the link."

"Thanks Dk," Joshua smiled.

"So are you two... dating?" Seokmin asked, a small smile creeping in his face.

"Nope," Joshua replied dryly. "We're just friends."

Seokmin exhaled, leaning back on the sofa. "Wow, okay."

"What?" Joshua frowned.

"It's going to be a little awkward if you're not dating," Seokmin frowned.

Joshua was just about to inquire something back at his roommate when his phone buzzed in his hand.

[16:12 PM] bunny: Can you come over? [16:12 PM] bunny: I'm free now [16:12 PM] bunny: Just let yourself in [16:12 PM] joshua: omw

He stood from the couch immediately and walked over to the door.

"See?" Seokmin clicked his tongue and sighed. "Just like a whistle."

"Thank you for the tickets, man!" Joshua said quickly as he got out of the apartment.

Joshua opened your apartment door confidently, kicking his shoes off as he closed the door. He already suspected he'd find you in your study, and you were just taking your headphones off and turning in your chair when he walked in.

The room was a great example of the great personality you had: walls covered with bookcases, which housed a lot of your paraphernalia, toys, photos, awards.

It was strange not to see copies of your books with your pen name. Something he meant to inquire about to you later.

"Hi bunny," he muttered warmly.

"Hi there," you stood from your armchair and he was almost taken by surprise when your arms wrapped around his shoulders, dragging him into a needy kiss.

Joshua chuckled in your lips. "Are you horny, princess?"

"Shut up," you sighed, pressing your puffy lips on his again, and again.

Another chuckle was muffled by your mouth, he found it amusing— the times when you were being so needy that you couldn't even talk. You zipped down his hoodie and practically yanked it down his arms.

"Sit," you muttered, Joshua looked at you confused until you pushed him back on the small couch behind him.

Joshua obediently sat on the couch, between your small army of squishmallows which you pushed to the sides as you sat on top of him, straddling him sloppily.

You clashed your mouth with his, kissing him hungrily, your hands grabbing him by his shoulders.

"Shit, baby," he muttered. "Slow down."

"I'm sorry—I just need you so much," you mumbled sheepishly as you leaned down and pressed your wet lips on his.

Joshua groaned, his hands grabbed you by the waist, rendered utterly speechless when your lips reached his neck.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier? I texted you hours ago," the words escaped his mouth before he could even stop himself and think.

"Was busy," you groaned nervously.

"Baby, slow down," he insisted when your hands slid underneath his white tank top, his skin prickling at the touch of your cold hands.

He grabbed you by the waist firmly, pulling you back without forcing you out of his lap.

"I have something to tell you," he muttered.

Your eyes widened, searching his face anxiously. "What, what's wrong?"

Joshua paused to read your face. "We've been chosen to open for a band this weekend," he could not avoid the smile that crept on his face in pure excitement.

"Oh my god? That's great!" you squealed, almost bouncing on his lap. "When?"

"I'm leaving on Thursday. My flight is scheduled really early in the morning," Joshua replied, his hands anxiously moved to your back.

"Leaving?" your smile faltered slightly. "Oh, I see."

Joshua's eyes were still trained on your features. "What, are you sad I'm leaving?"

"A bit," you said, looking deflated.

"I'll be back in no time, baby," he muttered with an amused smile. "Or I can take you with me if you want."

You looked startled, and something within him told him he crossed a line.

"Oh, uh. I, uh, 'm not ready and I have so much work to get done before the book release and," you sighed. "Maybe it's best for me to stay? But thank you for offering."

Joshua rolled his eyes. "Baby, I'm joking," he smiled with ease.

You blinked in surprise and slapped his shoulder. "I hate when you do that."

"Do what?" he chuckled.

"When you play jokes on me," you muttered shyly. "I don't know when to believe you."

Well, that makes two of us. His internal voice sulked.

"Sorry, it's fun to see the faces you make," he replied instead.

"Yeah, yeah," you stuck out your tongue to him, which made him smile again. "Well, tell me more about this band you're opening for."

Joshua had his hands still firmly parked on your waist. You looked especially good that day. He didn't know exactly what it was because you were wearing something he's seen on you before, did you get something done on your hair? No, it looks the same.

So what was it?

"It's a huge band, like legendary big," he looked perplexed again. "I don't even know how they picked us. But it turns out that their original openers were canceled for some reason and we were their first choice."

As he spoke, he could notice your eyes wander. To his hair, then to his eyes, you seemed to like his piercings, since you toyed with them absentmindedly as you heard him. He smiled softly when your fingers reached the piercings on the shell of his ear. Like a cat seeing something flashy.

"Apparently if we take a liking to the crowds, we can get picked up for a label and that would also be huge for us," he told you, his eyes trained on your face.

"Oh? That sounds like a good opportunity. Great, actually," you replied, your eyes big in wonder.

"Yeah, it would mean a lot for us. I'm really excited for this," he muttered, your eyes were now in his throat. You did this a lot too, you seemed to like his throat, and he knew why: there was a big hickey below his Adam's apple.

Oh god, the look on his mother's face when she saw it. There was no comment made about it, but there was an obvious dislike about it.

Joshua, in fact, had never let anyone mark his body, even so much as to leave a scratch on him, he didn't allow it. But everyday when he caught a glimpse in the mirror of the lovebites you made on his body, he would remember you.

The hickeys you made in his skin were now fading, they looked like light brownish spots scattered on his neck and chest.

"I'm happy for you, Joshua," you told him with a small smile.

"Yeah, baby?" he purred and he could feel your legs tense up on his lap when he called you that.

"Yeah," you breathed sweetly.

"How happy are you?" he smiled, noticing that you weren't listening anymore.

"So happy," you whispered idly now, leaning forward to capture his lips with your own.

The kiss was brief but soft, your lips were the softer he's ever kissed, and he couldn't get enough of the softness. Joshua released your wrists and your hands instantly slid up his abdomen, a shudder ran down his body when your hands reached his chest and you were taking his tank top off.

"So, so happy," you muttered again dazedly. You landed a few kisses on his lips and then your attention was drawn to his neck, where you started placing open mouthed kisses.

A low laugh resounded in Joshua's chest. "You're not sad I'm leaving?"

"Yes I am," you replied, again, almost in a daze.

"You're sad you won't be fucked this weekend, bunny?" he dared ask, feeling like he was crossing multiple lines.

"What?" you blurted, seemingly snapping you out from your trance. "Joshua!"

He chuckled when he heard your high pitched voice reprimand him. "Answer the question."

"No, Joshua! I will miss you," you replied with a nervous tinge in your voice.

"Why?" he bit his lip.

Lately, he had been crossing the line of being just your fuckbuddy. And he knew that. But something troubled him and every time he tried to press about it, you'd get nervous and brush him off.

"You-you're my friend, you-," you frowned, stopping suddenly and slapped his shoulder harder this time. "Stop playing games, Joshua Hong!"

The tone your voice acquired whenever you chastised him was amusing to him, he even threw his head back a bit as he laughed at your reaction.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop," he said finally. "I'll miss you too, bunny."

You rolled your eyes at him. "Yeah, right."

He didn't get a chance to respond, your lips were on his when he tried to say some quippy response.

He meant it though—although he wasn't sure what exactly he would miss. It was only a weekend.

His fingers found the hem of your t-shirt and yanked it off your body, his train of thought fading to the back of his mind when he realized you weren't wearing a bra.

"Can I mark you again?" you asked eagerly after his hands started cupping your breasts.

"Yeah, go ahead," he replied, not really caring that his skin was healing from the other darkened spots.

You sighed softly in his neck when his fingers toyed with your nipples. "Fuck," you breathed and pressed your hips against his.

"You're swearing more often," he pointed with a smile.

"Sorry," you mumbled back shyly, kissing the spot below his ear.

"Fuck," he tensed up when you sucked his skin on the sensitive area. "Don't worry," he giggled softly.

"Maybe I need to stop hanging out with you," you mumbled jokingly, he could even feel you smiling on the crook of his neck where you landed another love bite.

"Mmm yeah, maybe," he replied aloofly.

"Would you like that, Joshua?" you asked and for a moment he liked that you were asking that question with the same intonation he uses when he asks you things while fucking you.

And to think you almost call him 'baby' too.

"No," he replied shortly. "I wouldn't."

Your lips reached his collarbones and he muttered more cuss words.

"You're so sensitive," you teased against his skin with a tinge of fondness in your tone.

Joshua couldn't make a reply again, feeling like it was self explanatory: his body liked you. Everything you did to him felt a million times better than anything ever did before.

You pressed your core down on his hardening cock and he groaned louder.

"Do you want me to take my pants off?" you asked sheepishly, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Fuck, yes, please," he muttered with a sigh.

You said nothing about him completely forgetting to dom you, instead, you smiled sweetly at him and stood from his lap. Your fingers played with the band of your sweatpants and when you stepped out of them, his mouth parted a little.

Joshua loved how confident you had become. When he first met you and slept with you, your body language was down right timid, which was totally okay to him, he also found it cute. He found it cute to see your fingers would tremble and the stutter was a bit more prominent. But now, you were more playful with him, even flirty sometimes.

"I like that on you, baby," he muttered when all you wore was a pretty lace thong. "Did you wear it for me?"

"Yeah," you replied coyly.

Joshua swallowed thickly. "Can you show me?"

You silently nodded and slowly turned around to show him. He smiled through a soft sigh when you displayed your nearly naked body to him.

Then, much to his disgrace, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Ignore it," he mumbled. "It's probably Jihoon again."

"What if it's important?" you asked.

"You're right," he replied and fished his phone out of his pocket. "What is it, now?" he growled into his phone when he picked up Jihoon's call.

"Damn, why are you pissy again?" Jihoon said. "I'm calling you to tell you something about the setlist and dynamics because I think we need to rehearse more," he began.

"Can't this wait?" Joshua groaned and threw his head back on the couch.

"This is important," he pressed. "We only have a few days to prepare. Then, who knows what we'll be able to do."

Joshua closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Be quick."

Jihoon started rambling. That was all Joshua could hear, essentially. Just babbling about stage dynamics, setlist order, specific details about lyrics, everything.

Something soft landed on his bare thigh and he opened his eyes to find you rolling his shorts up uncovering his thigh. Then you pressed a knee in the couch beside him and then you sat your pretty, wet pussy on his thigh and your hips started swaying back and forth.

At least you could have some fun through this, he thought.

He felt torn between Jihoon's voice telling him important things about the upcoming weekend's two-night concerts and you riding his thigh. His eyes landed on your forgotten thong lying on the floor and he smiled.

"Are you there? I'm telling you something important," Jihoon reprimanded, getting annoyed.

"I'm here," he replied flatly. His hand slid on your hip to press down on you, indicating that you could go harder on his thigh. Your eyes found him, you looked flustered and hot.

Your eyes widened, your pouty lips and your brow slightly furrowed as you continued riding his thigh.

He moved his hands from your hip and gently teased one of your nipples with his thumb and pointer finger. You bit your lower lip and pressed your pussy harder on the tensed muscles of his strong thigh.

"Are you paying attention?" Jihoon demanded. "I'm thinking of changing Dawn to be the closing song."

"Mmm, no. I think it's best if we end with a bang, don't you think?" Joshua replied expertly, not caring that he barely heard what his bandmate was saying before that.

"Yeah, you're right. We're playing for a bigger crowd and opening for a heavier band. So maybe we should include more of our old songs, since those are a bit heavier."

"Yeah, yeah. Sounds great," Joshua muttered. His eyes trained on you, a few strands of your hair had stuck on your wet lips and when you exhaled softly, they fell at the side of your face.

"And what about our new songs?"

Your hands were anchored in his shoulders, fingers digging on his skin so hard it hurt him a bit.

But he didn't care, he knew you were close because you started to sway your hips harder and with a certain rhythm, not exactly fast but your mouth was parting the same way it always does when you're almost there.

"What about them?" he replied, trying not to hang up at that minute and help you out.

His thumb started to rub one of your nipples, making your hips stutter in their sway a little and you started twitching on his lap, coming on just grinding against him.

His big eyes lifted to yours, a pleased smile drawing on his face as he watched you come.

"When should he play them?" Jihoon asked with an obvious tone.

"They should be the first songs of our set," Joshua replied flatly, seeing you come silently on his leg until your hips stopped swaying.

His hand grabbed you by your hip, motioning to move a little and you stilled on his lap, pulling back so that you weren't sitting on his lap.

Then a moan escaped you when he slipped his fingers inside your wet cunt.

"What was that?" his bandmate asked slowly.

"What are you talking about?" Joshua asked back, feigning innocence with mastery.

"I thought I heard—whatever, I'm going crazy," he sighed.

"You and me both, man," Joshua said through a breath, although it was evident to him that they weren't talking about the same thing.

You started riding his fingers and he knew you were enjoying being heard because you started moaning more frequently, small groans fell from your soft lips, your eyes fluttering close when he started palming your clit as you rode two of his fingers.

"So, that would be the setlist. We need to rehearse man, a lot," his bandmate told him reproachfully. "

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, Jihoon," he muttered absentmindedly.

"Now, about the transportation of our things."

Joshua groaned out of frustration and you smiled at him. He looked so cute to you, his pouty lips and furrowed brow. Joshua decided he was going to spice things up a bit, so he introduced a third finger.

"Oh god," you muttered and his palm pressed harder on your clit. "Fuck, that's good."

Jihoon was discussing details about the transportation of their instruments. The tour production of the band they were opening to actually provided them with the sound equipment so he wasn't too worried he had to rent something. So he didn't listen to what his bandmate was saying.

Because you started moaning again, your face telling on your second orgasm. You were determined to make yourself cum again, the movement of your hips changed and you were practically pressing on his hand so hard it started to go numb.

"God, Joshua," you breathed and started moaning, over and over again, cumming loudly on his fingers.

"Is that—are you watching porn?" Jihoon finally asked.

"Nope," Joshua muttered simply.

"Why does that sound like porn?" he sounded scandalized.

"I'll call you later, Jihoon. Bye," Joshua tossed his phone to the side and his free hand pulled you from the nape of your neck to kiss you hungrily as your pussy clenched his fingers hard.

"Having fun, princess?" he asked gruffly on your lips, then he nibbled your lower lip softly with his teeth.

"Mmm yeah," you replied sweetly, smiling playfully at him. "What was your call about?"

"Nothing that important," he said dismissively. "He might've heard you though."

"Oh, god. Really? Did he mention something?" your eyes widened.

"He thought I was watching porn," he smiled amusedly at you.

"God, that's so embarrassing," you replied, biting your lip and then you stood from his lap.

Joshua stuck his soaked fingers on his mouth, licking your slick off of him with a pleased groan. You were standing between his spread legs, so he just grabbed you by your hips to place soft wet kisses on your tummy.

"Can I—can I ride you?" you asked with a tiny voice as your fingers tangled in his dark hair,

"Yes, baby, fuck yes," he groaned and sat back when your hands gently pushed him by the shoulders.

You grabbed the waistband of his shorts and briefs and pulled them down together, undressing him completely.

"Fuck, baby. You're really needy today," he muttered in amazement.

"I was thinking of you today," you explained with a shrug as you sat back on his lap, straddling him on your couch. "Couldn't get you out of my mind."

"Why, what were you thinking of?" he asked, grabbing you by your hips again as your hands found his shoulders again to help yourself not lose your balance.

"I was thinking of doing this," you nodded to his naked body sitting on the couch.

"Mmm so you were fantasizing while writing your book?" he asked as your hand wrapped around his big cock and stroked his shaft.

"I couldn't even get work done," you nodded with a sigh. "It's driving me crazy."

Your thumb rubbed the precum gathering on the tip and he swallowed thickly as he processed what you just said to him.

You propped yourself on your knees, his hands guiding you down as you held his cock for you to ease yourself down on it.

Joshua groaned, his hands involuntarily clenching on your love handles. You also moaned loudly, shuddering hard on top of him as you bottomed out on his cock.

"So big," you sighed tiredly.

Joshua let out a faint laugh, his hands moving your hips back and forth slightly, urging you to move.

"Okay?" he muttered, his voice already strained.

"Yeah, 'm okay," you nodded, anchoring yourself with your hands on his marked chest.

"Fuck," Joshua swallowed hard and threw his head back slightly, his fingers trying to dig holes into your skin.

You started riding him faster, his hands shifting from your hips to your ass, following your movements as you practically bounced on his cock.

"Joshua," you whimpered. "Let me kiss you."

That was a bit of a problem for him.

It took him some moments to realize it at first, but when you dipped your head to lock your lips with his own, he moaned. He was just so weak for you, he usually found it so hard to contain himself when he was with you, but when you started landing kisses on him, he just couldn't resist.

You blinked and locked eyes with him, a frown appearing on your face when Joshua pulled his head back with a guttural groan. His hands grabbed your hips and forced them to stop, retracting your wet, throbbing pussy from his cock abruptly.

"Fuck, sorry, fuck. I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, clenching his jaw hard and screwing his eyes close.

"What's wrong?" you asked, reading his face desperately.

"Shh," he shuddered slightly.

You understood what was happening, and when Joshua opened his eyes again, he found you smiling.

"What's wrong?" you asked again when he allowed you to ease back down on his cock.

He licked his lips and shot you a brief look. "Almost came," he muttered shyly.

"From kissing me?!" your voice shot up an octave higher.

He groaned and threw his head back again on the couch and nodded wordlessly.

"Why?" you pried.

Joshua's hands were kneading on your sides, trying to get you to move a little faster, since it seemed that you had forgotten to continue riding him.

"I like it," he replied and his eyes shot you a dark look when you laughed.

"Sorry. I shouldn't laugh, 'm sorry," you tried to regain control of yourself but a big smile spread on your face, you even looked teary eyed for a second.

But Joshua smiled too despite himself. "You find that funny, princess?"

"A bit, yeah. It's cute," you muttered, suppressing a moan when you found a certain angle that you liked, you leaned forward a bit, taking his cock in your walls slowly.

"Cute?" Joshua snorted.

"All this time I thought—I was so dumb," you sighed and smiled at something only you appeared to be knowing of.

"What?" he pressed.

"Nothing," you shook your head and started riding his cock faster, earning a groan from him.

Then your hand sneaked in between you and him and started toying with your clit using your fingers. Joshua's eyes trailed down to where your bodies joined and saw your pretty fingers swirling around your swollen bud.

He might've come from the sight alone. He was biting his lip, watching you bounce on his cock, completely naked, making soft noises with your mouth as you appeared to be reaching your release again.

"Oh, Joshua—I'm close," you mumbled, pushing your forehead against his. Your pussy was clenching harder and you stiffened a moan. "Fuck, so close, Joshua."

"Do you want me to cum with you, baby?" he asked, his fingers teasing your nipples softly.

"Yes, god, yes. Please, Joshua," you whimpered.

"Want me to cum inside too?" his voice was low and strained.

"Yeah, oh god, Joshua. Ah'm there," your hips pressed down on him and your cunt squeezed him hard.

"God, fuck baby," he muttered and his hands grabbed you to help you keep moving on his cock as you went completely languid, succumbing to your third orgasm.

You leaned down and pressed your forehead on the crook of his neck, muffling the sounds of your whimpers and cries of pleasure as you came. Soft wet kisses and nibbles on his skin made him moan and cuss, the tip of your tongue swiped a line on his neck to his earlobe and that tipped him over the edge.

Joshua pushed his hips forward, thrusting his cum deep inside you, riding both your orgasms in a frenzied craze, he screwed his eyes shut while you continued to place lovebites in the crook of his neck, your body almost convulsing against his.

He was breathing hard, feeling like he almost passed out right there on your couch, his cock still inside your walls. What kept him conscious was the fluttering sensation on his chest, your heartbeat banging so fast against his that for a second he thought of asking you if you were feeling it too.

Fuck, he would miss this. Even if it was only a weekend.

"Oh, that was intense," you whispered, still shaking from your high.

You nuzzled tightly against his chest, burying your face on the crook of his neck and Joshua wrapped your body in his arms, holding you tightly as you breathed tiredly on his neck.

"Are you going to tell me now?" Joshua asked, not forgetting what you tried to say.

"All this time I thought you didn't like to kiss me during sex," you confessed and then let out a soft chuckle. "But it turns out you do?"

"What?" Joshua exclaimed. "Why would you think something like that?"

"Because you never kiss me—or let me touch you when we fuck," you shrugged slightly.

"Why did you never ask? It's important that you know these things," he reprimanded, pushing his shoulder forward and you moved your body back, understanding he wanted to be face to face with you.

"I just thought that us being fuckbuddies, kissing during sex would be too affectionate, you know?" you mused coyly.

"That's nonsense," he shook his head.

"It's not to me, Joshua," you muttered, eyeing him abashedly.

"You know you can trust me with these things. I'm not trying to belittle your worries, just—I want you to be comfortable with me," he looked upset, and almost disappointed.

"Well, what was I supposed to think?" you countered.

"Not that I don't like to kiss you," he rolled his eyes with annoyance.

"But you do," you smiled eagerly, reveling at the fact that he liked kissing you during sex so much that he could come from it.

"Of course I do," he laughed faintly.

Joshua looked at you expectantly, but you slowly rose from the couch, and let out a sigh when you saw that you had spilled his cum on the couch, and it also dripped down your legs.

"Oh, I made a mess," you mumbled embarrassedly and seemed to look around for something to clean it up immediately.

"I'll sort this out. Don't worry," Joshua told you and nodded. "Go get cleaned up, baby."

"Right," you frowned, your attention drawing back to the cum dripping down your thighs. "I'll be back."

While you took care of that in the shower, Joshua found paper towels in your kitchen and cleaned the mess on the couch and the few drops he found scattered on the floor.

Then he took the liberty to enter the bathroom while you were showering. Joshua had been there many times before to wash up after having sex with you, so he knew pretty much everything about where to find what he needed.

"Are you going to hop in with me?" you asked, eyeing him with curiosity through the glass door of the shower.

"I was just thinking of cleaning up here but," he shrugged, seeing your soap covered body.

You moved from the stream to let him step under it. Joshua was well aware that you enjoyed seeing him shower, even though he didn't even make a show of it, he usually just stuck to get himself cleaned fast.

But your eyes—oh, they were so telling on what was going on your mind. They wandered and roamed all over his naked wet body and he smiled knowingly.

"Are you hungry, princess?" he asked suddenly, bringing your fascinated eyes back to his own.

"Uh?" your mouth parted cutely.

"As in, food, I mean," he chuckled.

"Oh, oh, yeah," you muttered awkwardly.

"Do you want to order something? Or maybe I can cook something for you, if you want," he shrugged as he rubbed soap on his hands to clean his cock thoroughly, which was getting hard under the eye fucking by you.

"You can cook?" you asked innocently.

"I don't like your tone of surprise," he pointed. "Yes, I'm a decent cook."

"Oh? I'd like to, yeah," you replied while pretending to be washing your skin very consciously for the second time already.

"Okay," he mumbled, throwing his head back to finish rinsing off and stepping out of the stream for you to wash off the bubbles from your neck and breasts. You weren't making a show of it either, but Joshua couldn't help but gape at your body too.

Now, he was not entirely sure you weren't making a show of it, since you had rubbed soap all over your tits, bubbles gathered around your nipples and when the water washed over them, it looked so alluring that a shudder shook him hard.

Joshua chuckled breathily, snapping himself out of his trance and stepped out of the shower, fighting a semi-hard on. He was quick to dry off his body with the towel that you assigned him the very first time he showered in your apartment.

He had grown a fondness to this. Something so simple and ordinary as washing up. You didn't have any particular way of doing it but he found it cute. He liked the mundanity of it all.

"Take whatever you want. You have free rein," you offered as Joshua stood in your kitchen.

"Do you follow a special diet?" he asked, appearing to be focused on his task. "Are you picky about something?"

You told him a brief summary about your food preferences and he listened intently, starting to gather ingredients from your cupboards and fridge.

"Okay, princess," he sighed and started to busy himself in making you a full meal.

"Do you need some help?" you offered meekly, feeling a bit idle in your own kitchen while he got to work.

"Um, I need these chopped. Can you help me sweetheart?" he asked with an aloof tone and nodded to the cutting board.

You instantly melted at the tone he used to address you. "Sure," as you did so, he eyed you curiously. "Am I doing it wrong?"

"Not at all," he assured.

"Okay. That's done. What next?" you handed him the cutting board and he diligently put the chopped veggies on the large pot and covered it, lowering the heat and sighed with satisfaction.

"That's it baby, thank you. Now we wait," Joshua said, setting a timer in his phone before gathering the used cutting boards, knives and such to put them on the sink.

"Oh, don't worry about that, I'll do the dishes," you stammered, grabbing one of his wrists to stop him. "You cooked, I'll wash."

"Sure about that, princess?" he asked. "I can do both, no worries."

"Move aside," you commanded and then batted your eyelashes at him before adding. "Please."

He smiled amusedly. "Okay."

He didn't leave the kitchen, he just stood there while you washed the dishes neatly. You looked over your shoulder at him to find him leaning on the kitchen counter, you turned around to continue washing the dishes, smiling with a blush on your face.

A yelp in surprise came out of you, startled when Joshua's hands clutched your waist over the soft fabric of your silk robe.

"Careful, bunny," he muttered softly when you jolted slightly. "I don't want you cutting yourself on that."

You were just rinsing the knife you used, and moved it to the drying rack. "You startled me," you replied shortly, trying not to show how flustered you already were.

"Sorry about that," he moved a hand from your waist to brush your wet hair from the back of your neck with his fingers, leaving your nape exposed.

He pressed his lips behind your ear, inadvertently getting the scent of your soft skin and wet hair. The scent was sweet, he could almost taste it in his tongue, it left him feeling something akin to a punch in his chest.

"Joshua, I'm in the middle of something right now," you mumbled, but you sounded amused, almost as if you found it funny that he couldn't keep his hands to himself for longer than half an hour.

"So?" he replied in a similar fashion to you.

And to really make his point across, he pressed his body on yours firmly, making you inevitably feel his semi-hard cock lodged in your ass.

"Joshua–"

"Hurry up," he muttered in your ear, teasing you with soft kisses.

He only heard you smile, but was so busy trailing kisses down your shoulder that he didn't get to see it again.

"Okay," your voice was rendered to a whisper. You finished rinsing the last cup and put it neatly on the rack. But then you scooted to the side to wipe something on the counter, clearly dodging his advances to tease him a bit.

When you heard a groan from him you didn't dare look back at him, but you laughed at his evident impatience.

"Calm down. And you say I'm needy," you teased. "Honestly, you should look in the mirror, Shua."

A gasp left your mouth when you were suddenly turned in your feet and pushed back in the kitchen counter that dug into your smaller back.

"You're becoming more confident with the tone you use with me, princess," he cooed with a playful grin on his face, his pierced eyebrow arched a little before he dipped his head to capture your lips with his own.

"I'm sorry," you replied in a whisper, but deep down you were excited to see where this was going.

"You know I don't like liars," he muttered darkly in your lips before swiping a line in your lower lip, making you whimper pathetically in response.

He nibbled your lower lip gently as his hands found the knot tying your robe blindly and tugged at it loose.

"You're so sure about that, Shua. But you seem to like me," you countered, your whole body recoiling in a thrilling shudder at your own audacity.

He stepped back a little, he looked in complete fascination, as if you had slapped him silly for a second before he broke in a throaty chuckle.

"What's gotten into you today, princess?" he asked with an amused look. "You've been so bratty lately. Do you miss being punished?"

"I do," you breathed into his lips, pressing your own against them a couple of times before adding: "And now that you're leaving I'm going to miss it more."

You felt his smirk with your lips, his breath landing lightly on your mouth. He had already parted your robe, making your breath hitch embarrassingly when his hands slid in your naked waist.

"You're trying to make me punish you. You know that doesn't work with me, baby. So why try?" he tilted his head to the side a bit, the smirk never fading from his face.

"Oh, but it does work, Joshua," you whispered, your jaw trembling ever so slightly when one of his hands slid on your back, fingers caressing gently on your skin. "It has worked every time."

Joshua seemed at a loss for words. This was a first for him—being so enthralled by someone that he didn't know what to say. It made him feel challenged, and he liked that a bit too much.

You found the strength to start toying gently with the piercings on his earlobe, knowing it was a weakness for him. His eyelids fluttered briefly and he tried not to smile.

"You were right, Joshua," you muttered with a sigh. "I do feel a little sad that you're not fucking me this weekend. But, think of how bratty I'll get. I don't think I can be that patient for you."

"Careful, princess," he muttered again, but this time, he was deadly serious.

"Are you going to miss my body too, Shua? I can play with my toys all I want, but what are you going to do?" you continued with a honeyed tone, being cautious to avoid his darkened gaze.

One, two, three seconds passed, and as time progressed and your words hung in the air, you knew it would be bad for you. But in reality, Joshua was just racking his brains for something to say, since you almost had punched him with your words.

Then, the timer in his phone reached zero, the alarm went off, distracting his attention and breaking the silence in the kitchen. He turned away from you to get the alarm to stop and turned the stove off.

"Turn around," he muttered as walked back to you.

You bit your lip to avoid him seeing your triumphant smile as you turned your tummy to face the kitchen counter.

"Bend over," his next instruction was cold, devoid from all the warmth and gentleness he used before.

Bent over the kitchen counter, you started to get a fiery anxiousness over what was coming. His hands gently caressed your ass over your panties when he pushed the robe up your back, making you sigh your nervousness away.

Then you felt his fingers tug on the band of your panties to move them down to your knees.

And, something you weren't expecting happened. Joshua pushed one finger into your core, a whimper fell from your lips and your muscles tightened in response at the sudden intrusion.

"So wet already," he tutted. "I love this about you, baby. Your pretty cunt is always ready for me, even when you know what's coming for you."

He sounded serious, but on the inside, Joshua was far from disappointed. He was deeply awed by you, almost to the point he knew he had to be crazy.

"Joshua," you breathed against the cold surface of the kitchen counter.

"Mmm, yes baby. That's my name," he introduced a second finger in your warm gummy walls and you gasped. "Do you say my name when you play with your toys?"

"You know I do," you replied despite the blazing tingle sensation in your ears and cheeks.

"Are you going to say my name when you get fucked by someone else while I'm gone?" he asked and you knew by his tone he was not playing.

"I'm not fucking anyone else! Just you, Joshua," you replied instantly.

Joshua dragged his fingers out your sopping walls and landed his hand firmly in your ass, the wetness of your arousal in his fingers leaving a tickling feeling over the pulsating soreness in your skin.

You yelped loudly in response, screwing your eyes shut and fingers clenching into fists at your sides.

"That's right, princess," he purred softly. "If anyone gets to fuck you, is me," he rubbed a hand over the sore area.

"Yes, yes!" you squealed mindlessly. "Only you."

You let out a mewling sigh when he ran the pads of his fingers in your folds, caressing softly before slipping his fingers inside your walls again.

He leaned forward, placing a loving kiss on your bare shoulder. "What made you think you could even imply otherwise?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

Your eyes fluttered shut, holding onto the cold counter to try and control your shaky breaths.

"I asked you a question, princess," he cooed.

"I'm sorry, I-"

Again, he pulled his fingers out of your throbbing walls to land another slap in the same spot he did previously, it made you jolt and groan through clenched teeth.

"Don't," he muttered. "I don't like lies. You know that."

You nodded and then pressed the side of your face on the hard surface of the kitchen counter.

"You wanted this, baby," he cooed, marveling at the sight of your glute starting to redden in the recently hit area.

Joshua continued to tease your cunt with his fingers, then introducing a third one, massaging your walls, pressing on them with his knuckles when he crooked his fingers inside you.

"Oh god," you breathed, your eyelids fluttering when your arousal trickled down your thigh.

"Shit, princess," Joshua muttered in his fascinated trance. "I don't think I'd ever seen you this wet. I suppose that thinking of fucking other cocks while I'm gone gets you this wet, is that it baby?"

"No! I just said that to s-spite you," you stammered quickly and then screwed your eyes shut to brace yourself for another spank.

"Then you're saying that teasing me gets you wet," he laughed faintly when you whimpered at the loss of his fingers when he pulled them out of you to land another slap in your ass.

"Fuck," you cussed through clenched teeth.

That one resounded harder than the last, so hard that Joshua believed that your neighbors would hear. Does his roommate hear this every time he's with you doing this?

"Mm?" Joshua pressed, while caressing your sore ass briefly before resume fucking you with his fingers, sighing in satisfaction at the sight of you completely bent, ass red and your cunt displayed for him, soaking wet.

"It does," you mumbled.

"You like to get in my head, is that it?" he wondered aloud, hoping to get a reaction from you. "Do you like to incite me with your bratty behavior?"

"I do, I like all of it," you breathed, then bit down your lower lip.

"Don't bite your lip," he warned. "You're going to hurt yourself."

Joshua raised his hand to land another firm slap in your ass. Both of your glutes were tingling, sore and hot. You groaned in both pain and in pleasure when he introduced his fingers in your throbbing core again. The sight of his wet fingers disappearing in your pulsating walls was fascinating to him. And you, being so completely subdued by his control was even more arousing.

"You're being so good right now, bunny," he praised with his honeyed voice. "I wish you could see yourself."

You only moaned in response, feeling silly to even give a full coherent response. You only were able to angle your ass up for his fingers to reach deeper in your walls, letting out a puffy breath through your wet and chapped lips.

"Oh, my pretty girl. Are you fucked out already? Do you like being fucked with my fingers, sweetheart?" he smiled when he saw you were nearly drooling, your mouth agape and eyelids fluttering shut.

"Uh-huh," you breathed.

"Is this why you misbehave?" he pressed, but even you could hear that he was smiling.

"Yeah," you replied in the same manner.

He chuckled, completely entranced in your fucked out babble, drooling, soaking wet on his fingers, which he pulled out to deliver another spank on your red glute, earning a lewd yelp from you.

"Baby, are you close?" he asked. "I'm barely fucking you with my fingers, do you like being spanked that much?" he asked when your walls started cramping down on his fingers.

"Mmm-mmph," you nodded with your head pressed against the counter. "Feels so good," you replied in a whimper, it was not only the fact that he was teasing you with his fingers, or the pain from the spanking.

You were absolutely drunk on him controlling you, talking to you in that way, acting possessive over you.

He pulled his fingers once again and you lifted your head from the counter when you saw out of the corner of your eye that he had dropped to his knees.

An embarrassingly lewd sound escaped from your gaping mouth when he licked a stripe from the side of your thigh to your wet folds, his hands firmly grabbing you by your sore ass for him to bury his mouth on your cunt.

You cried out his name, not caring that it was the middle of the day, you were in close proximity to the door of your apartment and the walls to the hall outside were very thin.

He hummed in response, reveling at the sound of you calling his name out loud. His hands were kneading at your ass, pushing you on his face as he ravaged your core, giving it broad strokes with his tongue, tasting you, getting drunk on you.

"God, Joshua!" you cried out lewdly.

Just when his tongue started to push in your core, making you moan and tremble in pure bliss, he stood up, yanking his mouth from your throbbing cunt.

You let out a whimpering groan, expressing your disapproval. Joshua you felt genuinely amused, but you didn't see any sign of it, his nose and lips covered in your slick that he wiped away with one hand.

Joshua leaned forward as you lay on the counter and you stilled when his lips pressed wet kisses where your silk robe didn't cover your back, your shoulder and neck.

A pathetic moan spilled from your lips, your body alight from the soft kisses he planted on places no one but him had ever touched before.

"Did you think I'm letting you cum that easy, baby?" he purred, planting a kiss on your shoulder. "You're cumming when I say you can, you know that."

Joshua couldn't ignore the glint of triumph he caught in your eyes. A thing was for certain: you learned his game, you won.

His hand rubbed the area where he had spanked you, it was red and it felt some tingles. He felt you shudder slightly and you dropped your forehead back to the kitchen counter.

"You like being spanked," he cooed softly. "You enjoy being tied too. Maybe I should change my tactics, since you're misbehaving so much lately."

That sparked your interest, you budged a little to sneak a glance his way, the sight of it was so cute that Joshua almost breaks right there and then.

"Should I punish you by giving you the cold shoulder?" he mused softly, introducing his fingers back into your walls and you let out a moan in eagerness. "You seem to like giving me the cold shoulder, maybe I should start doing the same to you."

But it was you that broke first.

"No, please don't," you raised your head to see him. "I'm sorry Joshua, I won't do it again, please."

His fingers came to a stop inside you, pulling them out slowly to then fix your panties back to their place. "On the table, now."

You swallowed thickly, but didn't waste more time and walked over to the table with Joshua closely behind you. He grabbed you by the waist and sat your body down on the cold surface.

Luckily the table was sturdy and it didn't budge when Joshua set your body down brusquely.

"I'm having a hard time believing you. Why do you give me the cold shoulder, bunny?" he asked, his tone silky and taunting.

But in his eyes you saw another thing, was it frustration? You leaving him aside was something that troubled him deeply, he knew that he couldn't press you too much about it because you always seemed to steer the conversation away from it.

"I can't tell you, Joshua," you whispered and the air was robbed from his lungs when he knew you weren't in the subspace anymore.

"It's okay," he responded and his gaze softened immediately. "If you can't tell me I won't bring it up again."

"Oh, Joshua," you sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"No, don't be," he faltered. "Are you safewording, bunny? We can stop right now."

"Nonono, don't stop," you muttered quickly, bringing a hand to his nape to pull him into a heated kiss.

"Baby-," he pulled away but you shushed him with another kiss.

"Please don't stop," you urged in a broken whisper.

"I'm confused," he admitted.

"Just know that I don't push you away over something you do," you muttered faintly, looking at his eyes but your gaze was shifty. "You don't do anything wrong."

"You trust me, don't you?" he asked, feeling his chest contract at his words, why did he feel so unsettled by this?

"I do, I trust you Joshua," you replied immediately.

"And you know you can safeword anytime," he continued.

"Yes, I would've safeworded if something was too much for me," you nodded.

"I'm not doing anything that pushes you away?" you shook your head silently. "Okay, that's all I need to know."

Except that wasn't true. Joshua was still clinging to the question around your sudden disappearances. He was sure it got something to do about the stuff you said about your exes: you didn't stick around.

But he's not your ex, he's not even remotely something close to even having a title in your life. You don't introduce someone to your friends and say 'This is Joshua Hong, my fuckbuddy.' So, why should you treat him as anything more than that?

"Joshua," you called to him, tearing him from his thoughts and cupping his beautiful face in your hands, locking your eyes with his. "I won't push you away again. I promise."

"You don't have to make promises with me," he muttered and instantly regretted it.

Because he wanted this, he wanted you, no messing around, no lies. He wanted your honesty, your secrets, everything.

"But I want to. Let me," you whispered, he could see the honesty in your eyes, but also, a glint of desperation in them.

"Okay," he conceded. "It's a promise, then."

Joshua held in his breath, he was an idiot.

"Joshua, I..." you whispered, your fingers were now fidgeting with the hair on his nape, as if that was meant to soothe you, not him. "Give me time, and I'll tell you when I'm ready."

"Baby, you're allowed to keep your secrets," he emphasized. "I just don't like to feel like it's my fault that you disappear."

"It's not," you said and seemed to relax, the tension around your shoulders eased.

"Then I have nothing more to worry about," his fingers grazed your chin fondly. "Okay?"

You nodded, offering him a sweet smile that twisted his guts. "Okay."

"You scared me, baby. Don't do that again," he reprimanded softly with a sigh, leaning his forehead on yours.

"I'm sorry," you muttered. "I know, I'm so, so sorry. I panicked. I ruined the moment."

"Don't worry. Your comfort comes first," he said softly. "It's a good thing that you stopped me, but just try to remember to safeword. Even for things like this."

"I will. Thank you," you whispered.

"Are you sure you're okay, baby?" he whispered. "We don't have to keep going. We can skip to aftercare, it's alright."

"But I want to keep going," you muttered back in a tiny voice. "Do you still want me?"

Joshua still felt confused, but one thing yanked his mind from the lingering question: you being so restless, so utterly vulnerable and exposed to him made his heart wrench.

He wanted you in ways that he couldn't explain.

"I always do," he replied before kissing you.

His hand found the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling on your hair to kiss you hungrily.

The atmosphere between you had changed and Joshua felt it, he didn't have to ask you if you felt it too this time.

What Joshua didn't know is that your heart was beating like crazy. So completely lovesick because you were becoming more and more transparent with your feelings and at the same time, you couldn't find it in yourself to tell him you're in love with him.

Instead, your hands were zipping down his hoodie again, sliding it down from his shoulders. This time Joshua forgo his tank top, so he just shrugged out of his hoodie, and you helped him step out of his shorts.

You grabbed his hard cock with one hand and he sighed softly in your lips, shyly giving it a few pumps with your hand. Darting a look up to find his big doe eyes trained on your face, making your stomach jolt in nervousness.

"What?" you breathed.

"Lie back, princess," he muttered, blinking lazily at you with a smile on his face.

The curtains in your apartment were wide open, letting the warm light from the sunset pour inside and reach the round table where you were lying down, still wearing your robe and panties. The splits of the robe parted and exposed your naked chest for him.

Joshua could've sworn he never laid eyes on someone so beautiful. Removing the fact that you were nearly naked, he still thought you were so pretty; your puffy soft lips, your wide eyes looking fondly at him.

He hooked his fingers on the waistband of your panties and slid them down your legs again and put them aside somewhere.

"Joshua?" you called in a small voice.

"Mm?"

"Can we—can we skip foreplay?" you breathed. "I really need you right now."

Joshua complied wordlessly, being that he also ached to do just that. Grabbing your legs to hoist them up his shoulders, he aligned his cock with your core, he sent you a look before he sheathed himself in your walls to his hilt.

He let out a puffy breath in pure delight as soon as his cock was surrounded by your walls.

"God, Joshua," you sighed.

He would never get tired of this, hearing you call his name.

He started moving, dragging his cock back to push it right in, picking up a pace instantly. He was hitting you so hard and deep that the sounds of skin slapping against skin, paired with the soft moans you made and Joshua's own groans flooded the room.

Joshua looked down where your bodies joined, a low guttural moan bubbled in his throat when he saw his cock disappearing on your pretty swollen cunt.

"Mmfuck. You feel so good baby," he muttered in a fucked out slurry tone, his eyes trailing back to yours. "So tight and warm."

"All for you, Joshua," your reply reverted him back to the thing he always says to you and that made him smile broadly at you.

"Just for me," he breathed, the air leaving his lungs once again but now knowing that your eyes were looking adoringly up at him. "Why is that?"

"Because 'm yours," you mumbled with a small smile that let out a moan.

"All mine. That's right, baby," he breathed, pushing in and out of you in steady pace, barely holding onto the fragile threads of reality.

Joshua has never felt something so otherworldly. He thought he might be going insane for a split second. The warm light pouring from the windows bathed what your robe didn't cover, your bare skin exposed to him, your adoring eyes looking at him.

Then, he suddenly leaned down, motioning for you to hook your legs around him, as you did, his arms wrapped around your body to hoist you hip, so now that the only part of your body pressed to the table was your ass.

You cried out in both pleasure and from the unexpected motion as he continued ramming his cock in and out of your cramping walls, hitting so deep in a spot that felt just so good you inevitably started moaning lewdly.

You instinctively hid your face on the crook of his neck, nibbling at his soft and marked skin. You placed open mouthed kisses on the spot below his ear, making him plunge deeper in you.

"God, ahh—baby," he called with a hoarse voice. "Fuck–I'm close. Are you close too?"

"No, 'm not there yet, Joshua," you mumbled breathlessly, pulling your head back to see his furrowed brow.

"You want me to cum inside, sweetheart?" he purred with a lazy sigh.

You nodded, and he enjoyed the frenzied look on your face because he knew you went wild when he talked to you in that way.

"Do you want me to keep fucking you until we come again and again?"

He smiled at you when you shuddered visibly. You nodded and gulped hard. "Yes—god, yes! Please, Joshua."

"Gonna fill your pretty cunt to the brim. You're gonna take it all, right baby?" he continued, enjoying the frenzied look in your eye when he talked pure filth to you.

"Yes, yes, yes," you nodded frantically. "I want everything, Joshua."

You cupped his face with your hands and pulled him into a hungry, passionate kiss. He groaned helplessly in your mouth, feeling like you were playing dirty with him, because he couldn't hold out anymore.

He pushed his hips against yours lazily, his hands cupping your ass to push your body impossibly close to his own as ropes of cum spilled inside your pulsating walls.

But he continued fucking you aimlessly, your body now clinging to his. One of his large hands grabbed you by the back of your head to kiss you harder, swallowing your moans of pleasure as you came with him.

"Joshua," you breathed in his mouth. "Oh, god–fuck. Joshua!"

"I know, I know," he replied lazily. "You're taking it so well, baby."

Then you did something he wasn't expecting. You moved your arms from his shoulders and propped yourself on the table, splaying your legs wide for him.

A low moan bubbled in his chest, his glazed eyes at your body splayed on the table for him, making him follow you by leaning towards you and lowering his hands flatly on the table too.

His gaze fell again where your bodies joined and groaned loudly, clenching his jaw as he felt his cock getting harder at the sight of your cunt sopping wet with his cum. The base of his cock dripped with a ring of your cream around it.

"Umffuck, fuck baby," he groaned mindlessly. "You look so good like this."

It was at this moment that you knew why he liked watching you come. You always thought he looked insanely hot when fucking you, but this time something was different. He looked as if he was trapped in a trance—his gaze was out of focus, lust lidded eyes, leaning his head back while pushing his cock in and out, biting his lip and moaning out incoherencies.

He was ruined, so ruined.

"All yours," you responded in the same craze as his. "I'm yours, yours, Joshua."

He moaned gutturally and nodded with his head, his thrusts had long ceased to be controlled and calculated, as he was growing tired but drowning deep in you.

"Baby," he called. "Kiss me."

You pushed your body with your arms and reached out to him, wrapping one arm around him to capture his sweet lips with your own, a hand pushing him by the back of his head to pull his head as humanely close to you.

"Mine," he breathed in your lips.

You nodded and pressed your lips against his softly.

"Give me one more. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" he asked in a broken mutter.

Joshua smiled sweetly at you just nodding your head, completely unable to utter a word.

"You're being so good for me," he grunted, pushing lazily in your walls. "Fuck, so perfect. You're gonna give me one more? Cum for me again, baby."

You groaned loudly and nodded frantically. "Yeah," you mewled.

"Rub your clit. I'll cum with you," he muttered and smiled again when you complied with zero hesitation.

But you brought the hand that was on his nape to his lips and he understood immediately, and took the pads of your fingers inside his mouth to coat them with his drool along with a groan.

Then you gently pressed the now wet fingertips on your clit and started flicking swiftly, you knew it was game over for you again.

You threw your head back a bit, jaw going slack as Joshua continued fucking you open on your table, grunting and cussing over and over again as your walls started cramping erratically around his cock again.

"Uum fuck-k," you gasped, your muscles contracting erratically. "Joshua, god–Joshua!" you cried out harder. "I'm cumming, I'm–gaah!"

Joshua moaned in response, but continued ramming his cock inside and out, not wanting to tear his eyes off you, writhing on your table, crying out his name for the whole building to hear.

It didn't take much for you to drag him over the edge again, it was just so irresistible, and it felt so good to be in there with you; both so drunk on each other.

"That's it, baby. Take it all," he whispered, completely lost in you, so much that he couldn't believe that he was already cumming for the third time that day.

Joshua blinked lazily as he pushed his hips sloppily, dumping his load inside your walls with a blissful groan and faint babbles about how good you were for him, calling you his over and over again.

You were breathing hard, rendered speechless, your arm supporting your body was shaking slightly as you stopped writhing from your high.

"Joshua," you whimpered, signaling for him to stop.

"Too much, sweetheart?" he cooed, reading your face with his eyes.

You nodded wordlessly and he complied immediately, his hips coming to a stop, his chest heaving and completely covered in hickeys and sweat.

"Hungry now?" he smiled weakly.

"Mmyeah," you mumbled clumsily.

"Let's go wash and then we eat," he nodded back to the bathroom.

"Get out of me first," you smiled playfully at him.

He sighed a smile, his eyes glinting with something you couldn't place. He reached out beside you on the table and motioned you to lie back again.

Then you noticed he had reached out for our panties he discarded on the table and hooked them on your ankles, sliding them up your legs and you lifted your hips for him to fit them properly.

"Thanks," you muttered happily.

"D'you still have questions for me, sweetheart?" he asked out of the blue, his hands beside you hovering over your body on your table.

You blinked a bit surprised. "Yeah," a frown appeared on your face. "Why?"

"How about," he booped your nose with his finger, "we eat, and we go somewhere you can ask away all you want."

"Why, I can ask you right now," you shrugged slightly, the small smile remaining on your face.

"I'm jus' saying since we can't be around each other for two minutes without having sex," he chuckled breathily.

You giggled sweetly and his heart clenched again. "Alright, mister. It's a plan."

Then you booped his nose and he smiled.

Joshua was actually a really good cook, not 'decent' as he said. However you didn't eat on the table, you both sat on your couch and ate to your heart's content.

The tv was on, but none of you were watching. You sat with your legs extended on the side and Joshua sat on the sofa beside you.

Sometimes you would catch him looking at you with the lightest smile on his face. You would laugh and roll your eyes at him, trying to play hard at his suggestive looks.

Maybe it was the fact that you were both half naked in your living room.

"What?" you finally managed to ask after he looked at you for the third time. Or when you caught him looking for the third time.

"I think I'd never seen you eat a full meal 'till now," he replied, eyes on his bowl, scratching with his chopsticks at nothing.

"Yeah, I'd never seen you eat either," you nodded with a small frown.

"You're cute," he muttered shyly. "You pout when you chew on your food."

You giggled. "No, I don't. Now you're just inventing stuff," you joked, but you couldn't ignore the fluttering in your stomach.

He rolled his eyes. "Right. Forget what I said. You actually look like a monster that's been starved for decades."

"That's more like it," you smiled at him.

"I'm never giving you a compliment again," he smiled, leaving his bowl on the side. "Want more, sweetheart?"

"I'm full," you left your bowl on the coffee table as well. "Thank you, Joshua."

"Don't thank me," he replied, leaning back on the sofa.

His legs were spread, a hand resting on his thigh and the other propping his head.

You swallowed hard and looked away. But he noticed, he stood up and squeezed his body on the couch lifting your body to place you on top of him.

He was smiling knowingly. "You're insatiable, princess. Did you know that?"

"What are you going to do about it?" you asked coyly.

"How about we just make out?" he laughed in embarrassment.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you breathed.

Joshua chuckled, dipping his head to kiss you deeply, smiling between your lips.

Joshua Hong, you idiot.

When his roommate gave him the tickets for the Aquarium night event, he failed to mention that it was an event intended for couples mainly. So the look on his face might have given him away immediately when he led you inside.

"You know, if you wanted to go out on a date with me, at least give me the courtesy of letting me know beforehand. I could've dressed better," you smiled impishly as you looked around the entrance of the place where the first thing you saw was a heart shaped sign that said: 'love is in the water.'

"I didn't know it was for couples," he admitted.

You gave him a look, and his heart sank. Why couldn't he just say that this was an actual date?

Maybe because this was not his style.

If it were up to him, he would have taken you somewhere else, and perhaps under different circumstances, he would have told you beforehand that he intended to go out with you seriously instead of dragging you on an impromptu date.

"We can leave," he put in quickly.

"No, it's okay. I don't want to leave," you reassured him. "I like aquariums."

"You do?" he pushed his eyebrows up.

"Yeah!" you smiled, pushing the door and holding it open for him.

He was dumbfounded still by the mess he brought you to.

"What else do you like?" he asked, walking beside you through a corridor that looked more like a glass tunnel crossing through water, fish darting away above, the soft light illuminating the path you walked together painted a soft blue glow on your skin.

"I'm asking the questions tonight, sir," you arched an eyebrow playfully.

"True, sorry," he returned the smile. "What do you want to know?"

"I know your birthday, your favorite color, I know that you go out with your mom on Sundays... Do you have siblings?"

"Only child," he muttered simply. "It's just me and my mom."

"Oh," you frowned cutely.

"It's fine, don't worry," he shrugged.

"O-okay," you nodded. "Is guitar the only instrument you play?"

"So you do have a list of questions, huh?" he asked jokingly. "I play the piano too."

"You know I do have a list," you quipped with a grin. "Will you show me one day?"

He smiled sweetly. "Sure."

You returned the smile before standing in front of large tanks showing pink jellyfish. You cooed cutely, looking mesmerized at the exhibit.

Something irked him. His hand itched to grab yours, to lace your fingers with his and stroll with you hand in hand. He wanted to show you off to the world, as though you were his entirely.

But instead of that, he just took out his phone and snapped a photo of you deep in your trance watching the jellyfishes floating in the water tank. You never noticed he did, but that was his plan all along.

"I always wanted to ask," you eyed him shyly, walking to the next tunnel, through the reefs and fishes swimming away. "Were you taught to tie rope?"

Joshua snickered. "Why do you want to know?"

You smiled through your blush. "I just can't imagine you learning from a tutorial on youtube."

"What's wrong about that?" he laughed. "I did learn some things on the internet. But before that, someone taught me."

Your eyes sparked with interest, turning away from the colorful schools of fish darting gracefully between swaying seaweed to face him. "And who–who was that?" you stammered a little.

"An ex," he put it simply.

"Girlfriend?" you mused, trying to sound uninterested.

But Joshua noticed, his eyes fixed on your face as he nodded. "Former dom. Long time ago, bunny."

Your eyes widened, your mouth even dropped in the tiniest 'o'. "You used to have a dom?" you whispered, but couldn't hide your disbelief.

"For a while," he replied simply, not caring much about sharing his past with you, he wanted you to know all about him, so he felt like he could be more open.

"Did you like being a sub?" you asked nervously.

"It was alright. Fun, short-lived," Joshua shrugged.

"Why did you change?" you pried.

"I prefer having control," he sighed with a gentle smile.

"Mm yeah, that I do know," you smirked, looking up to the water ceiling, your eyes following each fish that swam by. "Would you let me dom you?"

Joshua's laugh reverberated across the tunnel, he even threw his head back a little.

"Don't laugh!" you mumbled sheepishly. "I'm serious."

"Sorry. I know you're serious," he replied, bringing a hand to your back as he walked beside you. "You just took me off guard."

"Why, you don't think I can do it?" you pressed, although you felt like it was quite obvious.

He ran a hand through his black hair, pushing it back. "Honestly? I don't know. But if it's something you want to try, we can do it some time. I can teach you a few things."

"Is there anything you want to try with me?" you mused, glancing up at his big doe eyes and the water ceiling on top of him.

"Mmm, dunno. I think I might be down for anything you want, honestly," he confessed, then paused. "Is there anything you want to try, bunny?"

"Mmm," you hummed and Joshua smiled when he noticed you've been echoing him a lot lately. "There's a lot I haven't experienced. Car sex, mirror sex, butt stuff," you laughed then looked down meekly before adding: "Threesomes."

"Do you want to have a threesome?" he asked, looking around to make sure no one heard his voice over the soft music playing through the speakers.

You shrugged. "I mean, only if you want, obviously," you gave him an abashed look.

"Huh," he smiled broadly. "I don't know how I feel about that," he admitted through his smile.

"If you don't want to, it's fine. It's just something I thought might be hot, y'know, being... shared," you stuttered quickly, scratching the back of your head awkwardly.

"I think it will take me a while to be ready to share you with someone else, honestly," he mumbled shamefully, standing before a large exhibit, where the vibrant hues of exotic fish shimmer under the gentle illumination.

It looked something like watching a meteor shower, Joshua thought. The fish were darting in all directions, glittering in the dark ocean depths, and he almost fell into another trance, seeing you enveloped in a silvery aura in the dim lights.

"That's fine," you smiled nervously. "We can try other things."

"Maybe in some other time we can try," he conceded.

"Never done it before?" you asked, your cute eyes reading his face.

He rolled his eyes with an uneasy smile. "I've done it before, princess. A few times."

"Then why...?" you frowned slightly.

You didn't get to finish your question, instead you shook your head and turned to face the underwater life, letting yourself be drawn by the next exhibit. Joshua gravitated naturally around you so he followed closely.

"Maybe we can try it when I don't feel as... you know, possessive," he mentioned offhandedly, looking away from you to the ceiling.

"Joshua, it's okay," he heard you smile and his eyes trailed back at your face. "We don't have to do it now. I don't think I'd be able to try it with anyone else that isn't you."

That sent a strange fuzzy feeling down his body.

"Yeah? Why is that?" he mused.

"I dunno," you mumbled sheepishly, avoiding his gaze while you twiddled your fingers around the necklace you wore. "I feel safe with you, Joshua. You don't mock me for my inexperience, or make me feel bad in any way when you teach me things. And I trust you would take care of me in anything we try together."

There was no one around inside the small exhibit, in fact, the large glass wall showed nothing but water, since the lonely beluga had already swam out of sight a couple of minutes ago.

"That's the only thing I care about," he replied, the feeling coiling in his throat had robbed his voice. "Your trust in me."

You raised your eyes back at him, there was a glint of emotion in them Joshua couldn't quite place. You gaped slightly, as if wanting to say something but fell short of courage.

But then your eyes trailed down to his lips, then back at his eyes and he understood what you meant. He knew you were shy about a lot of things, not just things revolving around the physical, so he decided to initiate.

"C'mere," he muttered, wrapping one arm across the small of your back, pulling you close to him as the other hand cupped your chin.

Joshua slowly captured your lips with his own, feeling his heart melt under the softness of your skin, the taste of your sweet breath as you sighed in his mouth.

Joshua Hong, you idiot, his internal voice reprimanded again.

He should've known why he was feeling this uneasy.

He should've known the minute he saw you standing outside his door for the first time. Then, he would've gotten the opportunity to make things right with you—to ask you for a date, to get to know you better, to win your heart over.

But no, he let his hedonistic ways get in the way first. Now, will he get the opportunity to make things right with you?

"Joshua," you breathed. "I–"

"You don't have to say anything. Please," he interrupted, afraid you were about to pull back, to tell him something witty that drives the moment away from him.

But you tangled your fingers in his tousled black hair, stopped at the nape of his neck and pulled him in for a deeper kiss, teeth clashing and breath hitching, both of you desperate to tell each other without words what you couldn't yet say to each other.

"I really, really like when it rains," he murmured against your lips. "In fact, whenever it rains I go for a walk. Same with snow. I used to be a choir boy and used to stay up all night reading the Percy Jackson books."

You began to laugh heartily into his mouth, his hand was cupping the side of your face, as he pressed feathery kisses to your lips in between choppy phrases spoken frantically.

"I like pastries and ice cream," he laughed a little at himself, but held you firmly to his body, as if for support. "I like to play slow music when I feel stressed. I like midnight walks when I feel lost."

His fingers clenched lightly around your hair, his face scrunching up to fight the uneasiness of sharing stuff about him with you.

"I also like to drive. Whenever I need to think I drive somewhere. I think that's why I related to you that night we first talked on the rooftop," he murmured hastily, as if trying to get the words out before he couldn't contain himself. "You have your rooftop, I drive my car."

You smiled against his lips, feebly trying not to cry from the flood of feelings that overwhelmed you.

"I..." he faltered for a second. "I really like sleeping next to you. I like doing normal stuff with you, not just sex—cooking, doing the dishes, grocery runs, all of it. I really like doing the laundry, we can do that together someday, would you like that?"

"I'd love that, Joshua," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

"Yeah? I also want you to go to more of my concerts, I liked seeing you singing in the crowd," he muttered with a strangled sigh.

"Just tell me when and I'll be there," you replied, completely enthralled by him.

"I don't know right now, just—I... want to be there when you publish your book," he mumbled, swallowing hard.

Joshua didn't let you give him a reply, he kissed you again, afraid of his own emotions, afraid of what you would say. He felt vulnerable and he didn't like it.

But you saw that. You could see it in the way he struggled to get the words out. And you understood that so well, better than anyone.

So you followed the kiss, feeling elated, almost to the point that your knees threatened to give out, but his arm held you tightly close to his own body.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" he asked both gruffly and dazedly. "I think there's a live jazz band or something."

"We're a little late for dinner, I think. And we've been listening to the band all along," you told him with a faint chuckle.

"Really?" he responded aloofly. "Then, in that case, can I take you home? Or do you still want to look around?"

"You can take me home," you replied, caressing his cheek with a thumb.

"Sleep together?" he mused with a small grin that didn't fully show his teeth.

"I'd love that," you replied, melting at seeing his smile, turning his eyes into crescent moons.

"Okay," he whispered, letting himself be overtaken by the unrested feeling in his chest. "Let's go then."

And true to his word, the tension in Joshua's features had relaxed, and he almost looked excited when you got back to your apartment. He quickly went to him to grab a change of clothes and his toothbrush.

"Hey, you're back," Seokmin welcomed him as Joshua pushed to his apartment's door. "How did it go?"

Joshua came back from his bedroom with his arms full of clothes and a hand grabbing his toothbrush.

"I suppose it went well?" Seokmin let out a low chuckle as Joshua nodded and walked to the door. "Just try to be quiet tonight? I really do need a peaceful night's sleep."

"Sure thing," Joshua muttered, totally not listening.

When he came back to your apartment, you seemed to be tidying up your bedroom a bit. It didn't need tidying but it was a fixation of yours, since you were trying to hide your nervousness away.

"Hey," you muttered. "That was fast."

"I just needed a few things," he shrugged, but in fact, he didn't want to waste a second with you. "Besides, it takes like thirty seconds to get to my room from your apartment."

"Oh, that reminds me!" you almost jumped from where you stood in your bedroom and hurried to your little studio and came back with a naked manuscript, handing it out to him with a smile. "Here."

"Is this what I think it is?" Joshua took the very heavy pile of white sheets all neatly bound with stitches. "Did you bind it yourself?"

"I did. How did you know?" you asked bewildered.

"Just a guess," he smiled softly, wrapping a hand on the sewn binding and tuning the first blank page to find the working title of your book.

He turned the second page, where he found a handwritten note in your hand that read:

dedication: to...

"Is this annotated too?" his widened eyes turned to yours and you nodded eagerly. "This is so cool," he sighed.

But not only that, as he turned the next page, he also found small doodles on the corners, next to side annotations.

"I'll give you a full review when I'm back," he smirked.

"You will? I'd love that Joshua," you cooed softly, and he finally tore his eyes from your manuscript, left it aside on the nightstand and wrapped an arm around you.

"Of course I will, baby," he pressed his lips on the tip of your nose.

When it was time to go to bed, it felt like another world to be so comfortable and normal with each other. It almost turned his stomach when he couldn't help but feel a crushing affection for you.

He brushed his teeth at the same time you did, pushed each other to use the sink, and laughed together. When it was time to put on pyjamas, he simply undressed, keeping only his briefs on, and smiled at your bunny pyjamas.

You yanked the covers of your bed open and climbed on one side of the bed, looking at him expectantly. Joshua took the space beside you, slipping an arm beneath your body to drag you close to his chest, hugging you snuggly.

You caressed his bare chest with one hand, over the red hickeys and the older brown ones and smiled softly. Your hand trailed up to the side of his face and craned your neck to reach his lips with your own.

He breathed out in both pleasure and bliss to kiss you so tenderly, both so tired to even go past kisses but wanting to.

"G'night Joshua," you whispered in his lips, pressing one final one before snuggling your face against his chest.

"Good night, bunny," he muttered, kissing the crown of your head before closing his eyes himself.

In the morning, you woke up first to find him sleeping beside you. Your stomach twisting nervously as soon as you laid eyes on his relaxed features.

He was lying face up, so you had enough space to rest the side of your head on his chest, which he felt and lazily threw an arm around you, his fingers reaching for your head to tangle in your hair.

"You talked a lot last night, sweetheart," he muttered with a light laugh.

"Oh, god," you sighed. "'m sorry."

"Don't worry. It was fun," he responded with ease.

"What did I say this time?" you darted a look to his face, his eyes were close and seemed to be half asleep still.

"I couldn't get anything this time. Well, just one word," he laughed and that seemed to shake him awake.

"Which was...?"

"Jellyfishes," he muttered and giggled softly.

"Pfft," you huffed with a smile. "Oh, god. Really?"

"Mmm-huh," he hummed softly, his sweet voice reverberating in his chiseled chest.

"Sorry, Josh," you mumbled.

"I like it, bunny," he muttered lazily.

Truth be told he almost took his phone and recorded you talking in your sleep. But he refrained since it was just a crazed desire that might be misunderstood deeply.

"M'kay," you hummed.

"I have rehearsals in a couple of hours," he mentioned with reluctance. "But I want to see you before I leave tomorrow, is that okay?"

You lifted your head to see his face, he blinked lazily at you, his face relaxed and when his eyes locked on yours, he smiled slightly.

"Yeah, of course it is okay," you replied. "You don't have to ask that."

"Mmm," he hummed thoughtfully but then, he asked. "Do you like French toast?"

Joshua cooked breakfast humming a joyful tune and you helped in what you could against his protests. But he couldn't help but feel elated at you being beside him, helping him cook breakfast.

When it was time for him to go, he leaned back on your door, before opening it so you could cup his face with your hands and kiss him tenderly. He didn't want to go, he wanted to spend all day in bed with you, making out with you, fucking you silly and then taking care of you.

"I'll call you when I'm free, okay?" he muttered in your lips, his heart going crazy when you swiped a line on his lower lip with the tip of your tongue.

"Okay," you replied, pressing more kisses on his lips, making him giggle.

"If you're going to be like this every time I go away, I think I'm just going to go away more often," he joked.

"Shuddup, Joshua," you whined, slapping his shoulder playfully.

"Alright, alright," he giggled sweetly.

"See you in a bit, then?" you asked in a high pitched tone, which he made note of.

"Yeah. See you in a bit, baby," he returned the smile to you, before grazing your cheek with his knuckles to then lean down to kiss you goodbye and turned to leave.

"Joshuji, you haven't been sleeping well?"

Joshua looked over at Jeonghan, who was ravishing a plate of fried rice with a focused expression in his face.

"Why you ask?" he frowned, the question came out of nowhere, since they had been chatting over seemingly nothing important a minute ago.

"Your eyes look swollen," his best friend replied, rubbing the air in front of his own eyes. "Have you been crying?"

"What. No, Han," he shook his head. "I just had a long night, that's all."

"Mmm," he hummed and nodded his head, his fluffy dark hair dangling in his forehead.

Joshua wasn't lying. He really did have a long night. Not by choice, though, he just felt really restless. With upcoming concerts, rehearsals and pending conversations with you, he couldn't find peace in his thoughts.

Rehearsal was totally botched by his inability to focus, because no matter what he did, his thoughts would revert back to you.

[18:21 PM] bunny: I'm still in the middle of this book interview, I'll let you know as soon as it's over. 😊

Jeonghan's eyes narrowed when the phone buzzed on the table and Joshua practically jerked awake from his daydream and his hand flew to look at his screen.

"Who's that?" his best friend inquired.

"No one," Joshua muttered quickly.

He had asked you an hour ago if you were free for him to go see you. And as always, you were in the middle of something. You did tell him in passing that you had a live stream with a popular pair of content creators that invited you to talk about your upcoming book.

[18:21 PM] bunny: Maybe by 8 pm. Is that okay with you? [18:21 PM] bunny: I don't know yet. They were wrapping up half an hour ago but still going 🫥 [18:21 PM] bunny: They're not even asking me things anymore. They're talking to each other [18:21 PM] bunny: I think it's good that I don't have to show my face 'cause the don't see me texting you

Joshua smiled, but his joy was cut short when Jeonghan's head blocked Joshua's line of view, taking a peek at the phone in his hands.

"Stop it, Han," he muttered, pushing the smaller man out of the way.

"Oh, you have a girlfriend!" Jeonghan cooed, then stopped and his shoulders went slack. "Wait, you have a girlfriend? Since when? And how did that happen?"

"I don't have a girlfriend," he replied tiredly. "Mind your business."

Jeonghan chuckled. "Oooh, I see," he muttered and resumed eating his food.

But his best friend said nothing else. And that might have sent Joshua on a spiral.

"What?" he muttered reluctantly.

"Nothing, nothing," Jeonghan responded, looking at his food.

"Tell me," he pushed.

"Is this what's got you in a bad mood?" Jeonghan's lithe fingers pushed the empty plate on the table.

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Impatient. Barely touching your food, barely talking."

That much was true, as well. His plate was still half full, and he was not a man to leave food on his plate, but he simply did not have the appetite to keep eating.

"It's just—I'm sorry, Han," Joshua muttered and sighed heavily. "I can't think straight. You're right, I didn't sleep last night."

Jeonghan breathed a low chuckle. "Ah, I'm always right, Shuji," he joked but faltered when Joshua sent him a dark stare. "You wanna talk about it?"

Joshua dropped his chopsticks and pressed his elbows on the table. "No. I don't know—I haven't told anyone about this."

Jeonghan dropped his playful act upon seeing the torn expression on Joshua's face.

"What's wrong?" Jeonghan's serene brown eyes studied Joshua briefly. "Something bad happened?"

"No, not at all," he shook his head briefly. "I don't know."

Joshua sighed and called for the bill.

"You're not gonna tell me?" Jeonghan asked in bewilderment.

"No. Fuck, I don't know. I can't focus," Joshua's transfixed eyes landed on the table before him.

"Pfft," Jeonghan leaned back on the chair. "I'm exhausted of being everyone's therapist. No wait, scratch that, I hate that I have to fucking wait until you explode and have no one else to run to but me."

Joshua met his eye for the first time. "Oh, you're for sure not talking about me," he chuckled darkly. "Fine, I'll tell you but you're going to shut your mouth until I'm done talking."

Jeonghan followed Joshua out of the restaurant after they had paid the bill.

"I'm listening," he pressed.

"I'm... seeing someone," Joshua muttered, and felt every cell in his body protest against continuing. "God, this is insane."

He stopped abruptly on the sidewalk, making Jeonghan bump shoulders with him.

"I need a drink," he blurted, running a hand over his black hair.

Jeonghan looked wearily at his friend. "Let's go to mine. It's closest," he nodded towards the end of the street.

Jeonghan handed him a short glass with whisky on the rocks.

"Thanks, man," Joshua muttered, frowning a little over his best friend's hospitality.

"Don't mention it," Jeonghan said, popping a can of beer.

Joshua took a large gulp of whisky and slid the empty glass on the coffee table. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees.

"I don't know how else to say it," Joshua muttered, still wearing an empty expression on his face.

"Just say it," Jeonghan shrugged. "How bad can it be?"

"I'm fucking my next door neighbour," he blurted, cringing internally at every word, scrunching up his face.

The ice-cubes in Joshua's now emptied whisky glass shifted and for a whole minute that was the only thing he heard after muttering those words.

Joshua's big doe eyes lifted from the emptiness and found an expressionless Jeonghan.

"That's not bad," he said finally with a shrug. "Is she married or... why are you so pent up about it?"

"No, she's single. She's... driving me insane," he dropped his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes harshly.

"Why? I don't get it," he heard his best friend ask.

"It started two months ago. And I didn't think it would lead anywhere, I really thought she would just get tired of me and–," he sighed and brushed his hand over the air as if trying to push you out of his mind.

"I'm getting the bottle, hold on," Jeonghan said, rising from his sofa.

Jeonghan brought the whole bottle to the fancy coffee table he had in the middle of his living room. The apartment was obnoxiously large and every piece of furniture looked carefully selected. Like the coffee table in front of Joshua's knees.

"Thanks," Joshua said as he downed his second glass of whisky.

Joshua was particularly resilient when it came to drinking. So he wasn't worried about getting drunk. He could keep going all night if he wanted to.

But no, he made a promise to go see you first.

Joshua let out a sharp breath when the whisky warmed his throat.

"At first it was just casual sex, just fun. But it's becoming more serious lately and I don't know how to stop," he blurted the last words with a clenched jaw.

Jeonghan waited, perhaps because he didn't know what to say or because he saw that his friend was still gathering his thoughts.

"I don't know what to do," he concluded in a faint murmur, running the tip of his finger over the rim of his glass.

And like a work of magic, his phone started buzzing again, vibrating furiously against the glass table.

Joshua frowned, looking deeply obfuscated at the phone screen. You were calling him.

"You're not going to get that?" Jeonghan said, evidently knowing that it was you who was calling, since Joshua's display had that photo he took of you and your contact read only one word: 'bunny'.

"Yeah," his voice was rendered to a whisper. "Give me one minute."

Jeonghan nodded and stood up from the sofa, pretending to be busy himself elsewhere.

"Hi there," you told him and he could tell immediately that you were in a chipper mood than usual.

"Hi bunny," Joshua muttered, a smile instantly spreading on his lips. "How was the interview?"

"It was fine. It's just a pair of kids with a bunch of questions about the book. They were fun, it dragged on, though," he could hear you munching on something while you talked to him.

"Mm, yeah. I noticed," he muttered, his eyes briefly scanning his surroundings to make sure Jeonghan was out of earshot. His friend was nowhere to be seen.

"And you? How was your thing with your friend? Are you home right now? Why don't you come over and we talk here?" he could almost picture your sweet smile and the way you act shy when you prompt him to do something.

"I'm at his house right now," he replied shortly.

"Oh, really? What are you guys doing? Am I interrupting?" you asked nervously.

"We're actually talking about you," Joshua smiled deviously despite himself.

"What—no you're not. Stop playing or I'm hanging up," you said and that reminded him why he was in this mess.

He played too far.

"Can I call you in an hour, bunny?" Joshua asked abruptly.

"Sure. Let me know if you're coming by later, will you?" you asked. "I want to see you before you leave."

"I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye," he muttered and could feel his own face contorting into a frown.

"I'll hold you to that statement," you sighed into his ear and he knew you were smiling.

"You won't have to, baby," he lowered his head as he spoke to the phone in a low tone, as though he didn't want the walls to hear him. "I promise."

"Alright. I'll leave you with your friend. See you in a bit, then?"

Joshua smiled when he heard what appeared to be a new tradition between you two.

"See you in a bit, bunny," he muttered and hung up.

Joshua looked around again, but this time he found Jeonghan standing in the open kitchen, eyes big, mouth wide open in a smile. Because of course he was listening. Was he hiding all this time? Joshua imagined his best friend hiding behind the kitchen counters.

Joshua let out a heavy sigh and returned to his position of hiding his face in his large hands.

"You are down horrendous," his best friend punctuated each word.

"Fuck off," Joshua bit back, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands.

Jeonghan returned to his sofa, curling into a ball. His friend looked shocked, but almost giddy. Like a child seeing fireworks for the first time.

"Seriously, Joshua," his jaw dropped a little. "Why are you here? I thought you were all wind up because you wanted to end things with her. But here you are, actually whipped."

"I am not whipped. I can't believe you were eavesdropping," he groaned in defeat. "I'm here because I can't find an appropriate way to tell her."

"What, you don't know how to speak your mind?" his friend asked, sounding dumbfounded. "That's a first. Why can't you just man up and tell her? By the way you talked to her I can only assume it's mutual."

Was it mutual, though? Every time he tried to initiate the conversation or said something remotely romantic or affectionate you seemed to turn away from him and change the conversation.

"I don't know if it is—mutual, I mean," Joshua declared and a shudder shook his bones. "I've tried to tell her, but it's never the right time. It's confusing. It happened so fast and I wish I could've done things differently with her."

"Leave then," Jeonghan shrugged with ease. "Don't waste your time and hers. You know better than that, Shuji."

"I know, I know," he muttered with a weary sigh and slowly rose from the sofa, dragging every inch of his body up. "Wish me luck."

Jeonghan followed him with his inquisitive eyes. "You'll do the right thin—you fucker, you're not planning on following through with this?"

Joshua's cheeky smile gave him away fast.

"Fuck, you're going to regret this," his friend followed him out the spacious apartment. "Well, you know where to find me."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the drink, Han."

When he finally got to your door, he thought of all the times he's stood there, all the times you answered—and the times you didn't. It felt to him like he spent more time standing outside your door than in his own apartment.

"Hi bunny," he smiled when his eyes landed on your face.

He suddenly forgot his hysterical episode earlier. He forgot everything he was planning to tell you. Something inside him wondered when the time would come when he would stand in front of your door to tell you that he is falling in love with you. But he could push all his feelings away.

All to have another night with you.

Even if it killed him a little.

✮ a/n: hellooo! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

i'm sorry this chapter was so long!!! i had so much fun writing from joshua's pov and it just went out of my hands — this fic is so self-indulgent i love it

so if you liked this part please let me know? (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

happy new years everyoneeee! ilyyy

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