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amourcheol · 17 days ago

Text

blurring the lines

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

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

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

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

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

playlist | series masterlist | main masterlist

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

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

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

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

What welcomed you instead had your entire universe standing still.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What you foolishly decided to do was turn the page.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, but—”

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

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

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

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

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

His glare faltered. “How much?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As if he mirrored the same sensations as you experienced.

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

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

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

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

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

And there it was. The supposed end.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You furrowed your brows. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She was touching herself.”

A stillness washed over you. Touching herself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This had to stop. You had to stop.

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

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

“Joshua,” you said in a low voice.

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

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

If only you would stop looking at him like that.

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

There it was—your life in his hands.

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

This, however, was unchartered territory.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only you could sneak a glance inside his mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What in God’s name just happened?

JOSHUA HAD BEEN AVOIDING YOU SINCE THAT FATED INCIDENT.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wished he would stop looking at you.

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

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

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

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

“Indeed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“_____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was enough to enrage you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joshua?”

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

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

You ticked your head, puzzled. “But—”

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

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

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

The man paused. “Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. My God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your question was quick—unintentional. “Enjoyed?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was already changed—there was no going back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go on. I want you to say it.”

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

One step forward. “Whyever not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you trust me, angel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By God, you were soaked for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By God—he did this to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Blake not diverting enough for you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it a haven for you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you did these things to avoid humiliation?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only you remained.

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

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

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

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

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

Please. Please. Please.

Oh, he was not fucking fine.

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

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

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

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

You could not take it anymore.

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

It should be frightening—why were you not terrified?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did not quite know what to say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joshua?” you murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leave me be, Soonyoung.”

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

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

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

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

You alone had disturbed his peace—perhaps forever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leave us.”

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

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

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

You tried to speak for him. “Joshua…”

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

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

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

“You told him about what we did?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With that, he began to pull out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you mean it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But we can…as husband and wife.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

As the applause died down, the couples beginning to disperse, you stayed frozen still, your hand rooted upon his own, and his shoulder. It was at this moment Joshua’s anticipation began to take a toll from the shock painted upon your face. “_____?”

“Come…come with me,” was your mere answer, not waiting to hear his response as you left his hold, hurrying towards the exit. Because you knew him well, you foresaw his immediate reaction, following after you out of the hall.

Yes, marriage has always been a boon for most women. Lady Whistledown had complained about it to the point of souring any reader’s disposition about the subject—if the men were not enough already.

You sauntered through the all-too familiar halls, flashbacks of that particular evening haunting you as you took the stairs, your friend’s boots thumping behind you upon each step. You heard him call your name, but you did not respond, simply taunting him with a quicker stride.

Indeed, marriage would bring about an irreversible change between you and Joshua. But you had already shifted the dynamics of your friendship, the moment you witnessed what could not be seen, kissed what could not be even touched. You had already crossed every boundary without shame, and although there was a struggle, you had come so far—with him at every step of the way.

Only when you finally slipped through the study door the pursuer caught hold of you, catching hold of the door as he let himself in. “If you wish to refuse me, at least spare me the suffering of anticipation.”

He then saw you slowly grinning, and his confusion grew twice over. “_____?”

You leaned closer, enough to close the door behind him. “Do you trust me?”

His first reaction was to gape at you. Then, his eyes finally darted at the surroundings, the familiarity of the room, the circumstances. He found himself scoffing, his eyes dancing. “Without question.”

And that was enough for you to accept him. You collided your lips against his, wrapping your arms around him, and his relieved moan slipped through as he pulled you closer, smiling against your mouth. He found you divine upon him, more so with your acceptance, relishing the adoration that poured from you, the delight that he savoured shamelessly.

He would have delved further, swirled his tongue along with yours had you not broken away, inhaling sharply as you looked up at him. “See how quickly this could have happened the last time?”

His breathless scoff fanned your face. “Oh, you are cruel.” His fingers wandered at your sides. “You brought me here to do this, didn’t you?”

“Smart man.” Your hands played with the collar of his shirt. “Perhaps you will be a good husband after all.”

“Merely good?” he rested his forehead against yours. “I will be as perfect a husband as I was a friend.”

You mocked a seething sigh. “Is it too late to retract my acceptance, I wonder?”

“Do not even jest!” he groaned, “I was half-scared you were going to reject me on the dance floor!”

You offered a mischievous smile. “I wanted to show you how happy I was with your proposal. Now, if I had kissed you with everyone to see, how would that have fared?”

He wanted to, but could not argue against your logic. “How about you keep showing me how happy you are, then?”

Giggling, you brought your fingers upwards, cupping his face. “You dreamed of being my husband?”

He held onto your wrist, leaning into your hold. “I told you, did I not? Even if we are married, you will still be my dearest friend. I cannot…cannot live without you.”

There was nothing but adoration, staining the features of your expression. You gave into your wants, your very needs as you kissed him again, this time laced with such longing that Joshua let out a satisfied noise, tilting his head to incite your pleasure.

And as you both mirrored the familiar position of that very night, when everything changed for the better, you thanked the fates that you came upon his journal, let your curiosity guide you. You thanked your quest for knowledge, your need to know everything about the man before you.

Most importantly, you thanked the fates for Joshua—the rake of the ton, esteemed member of the infamous gentlemen’s club for looking past his reputation, the rules of society. For satiating your curiosity, for igniting a desire you never thought capable of yourself.

Because that was what Joshua Hong was. He may have been many things, but to you, he would always be your oldest, dearest friend—and now, your companion till the very end.

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @smiileflower @ourkivee @alyssa19123456 @xylatox @lexyraeworld @fancypeacepersona @tjjth @zezedoesshit @ochidize @sankriin @okiedokrie-main @reiofsuns2001 @gyuguys @livixxn @livelaughloveseventeen @peepeepoopooharrie @shinaely @uhdrienne @maple249 @tomodachiii @miniskirtmods

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong smut #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt smut #svt x reader #joshua hong x reader #seventeen hard hours #seventeen x reader #joshua imagines #joshua smut #joshua x reader #joshua hong #svt scenarios #blurring the lines tings

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tbaluver · 8 months ago

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∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) / づ♡ 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘚𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

hi my lovelies here is all my works so far if you would like to check them out! <3 i'll update it as much as i can! recently updated: 1/11/2025 MDNI. my works contain smut and suggestive content as tagged below. Finished reading? Here's the link to pg. 2 of my masterlist! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist Pg. 2

✎ = angst ❀= fluff ☾= comfort ✧= silly ღ= suggestive content/ smut

Headcanons/ Scenarios When You're Pregnant ❀ When You Have A Baby ❀ When You're Sick ❀ After Care With Them ❀ ღ When You Give Them AfterCare ❀ ღ If They Were Vampires ❀ ღ When You Cry During Sex ❀ ღ When You're Insecure About Your Body After Birth ❀ Attending Your Daughter's Recital ❀ Boyfriend Headcanons ❀ When They Hear You Singing A Lullaby ❀ Taking Care Of Their Chronically Sick S/O ❀ ☾ When You're Introverted ❀ Comforting You During A Panic Attack ☾ When You're Stressed From School ❀ ☾ Where They Like To Leave Marks ღ When You're Self Conscious About Stretch Marks ❀ ☾ Comforting You From A Nightmare ❀ ☾ Their Favorite Positions + Kinks ღ When You're On Your Period ❀ ☾ Sitting On Their Face ღ Flinching During An Argument ✎☾ When They Finish First ღ When You're An Idol ❀✧ Using Handcuffs ღ Consoling You While You Grieve ☾ When They Turn Into Cats ❀✧ Papa's Little Princess ❀ When You're A Streamer ❀✧ When You Don't Come Back From A Mission ✎ When You Randomly Turn Into A Cat ❀✧ Sending Them A Boob Pic ღ Sending Them A Dirty Video When Their Away ღ If You Had A High Libido ღ S/O Who Faces Mental Illness ☾ Showering With Them ❀ღ Giving Them Head + Small Fic ღ

Full Fics °˖➴♡⃛ currently editing/ revising it again (•̀ᴗ•́ )و

Xavier ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ : Coming Soon

Zayne ദ്ദി(⎚_⎚) Pushing Him Away In Your Sleep ❀ Picture You ღ lightweight ღ Whispers Of Reunions ღ

Rafayel 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 A Slow Night ღ teacher's pet ღ

Sylus (ง'̀-'́)ง Drive Around The City ღ General Headcanons ❀ Pushing Him Away In Your Sleep ❀ Amusement Park Date ❀ his necklace ღ his treasure ღ hold on tight ღ Milk Him Dry! ღ

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lunarcowgirl · 10 days ago

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don't leave me here without you | one

yeah yeah fuck me, jack abbot x f!doctor!reader

you can read part two here

dr abbot finds your resume and thinks you are leaving the pitt - absolute disgusting and pathetic behaviour ensues, its all very endearing.

~~~

from the office of the author: DOn't even LOOK at me, I'm embarrassed. the pitt consumes my every waking thought so I'm going to make that everyone else's problem :)

this is my very first fic!!! it is a work of fiction!!!!! i do not know anything about being a doctor!!!!!! inaccuracies are none of my damn business!!!!!!!!!!

i can’t help but love the emotional constipation of jack and robby in this show, and i was feeling inspired by jack, so this is my attempt at unpacking a bit of it. reader is indeed reader, but i have formed a bit of a character in my head, so pls forgive me she does get a last name late in the piece. hope you enjoy!!!!! maybe more soon!!!!! <3

warnings: cussing, jack being pathetic, snooping based behaviours, mentions of loss of bodily function/traumatic injuries, mentions of war, mentions of covid, a spider may or not be guilty of a crime, miscommunication i fear, bad grammar from yours truely, bit o' angst

word count: 2.1k

Dr. Jack Abbot thought he was doing a very fine job not staring at you all shift long, thank you very much. It had gotten harder since you’d changed the way you’d done your hair, letting the blonde grow out. When the lights hit the top of your two fastidiously tied french braids it set the crown of your head on fire, like the sun itself sat behind you in some kind of imitation of a halo. angel indeed. You’d pierced your left ear again, yet another little golden hoop in the soft shell of cartilage at the very top. Every now and then, he would see you reach for it, as if to scratch an itch, but catch yourself before you could touch the still healing wound. The smallest, prettiest crease would form between your eyebrows, and your hand would curl into a tight fist of frustration. You were going to be the absolute death of him.

The last trauma had been difficult; damage to the neck not only making finding an airway close to impossible, but suggested a grim future for the patients ability to move as he once did. Walking was now in question. Fucking e-scooters, they were starting to offer up more victims than motorbikes. It had been an excruciating emotional dance to explain to the teenager’s recently widowed mother, that her 15 year old’s life would now be dramatically different, that she was going to have to take on a new burden. The quiet, contained grief in her eyes, not breaking contact with his, was just about all he could take for this shift.

It was easy then, to justify a little bit of gratuitous selfishness in front of the board; the easiest place to catch a glimpse of you. This shift you’d remained calm and switched on, as you always were, but something was clearly scratching at your mind. Standing dutifully behind Jack as he spoke to the mother, gently answering her questions, offering sincere condolences, introducing her to Kiara had all been done with perfect form. but when it was done, you had all but fled back to the nurses’ station, logging onto one of the computers at break neck speed.

This is where you now sat, chin resting on your linked fingers, eyes in a predatory narrow. Without meaning to, without really realising it was happening, Jack let himself drift slowly around the desk. On his journey closer to you he let his hands fall into nonchalant, non-suspicious motion. Adjusting the cord of the landline, running his finger over some forms to see if they needed his signature, flicking on a tablet to consider the chart on it. He didn’t really have the time to think too hard about it, but some small voice in the back of his head told him he looked like a fucking idiot. Jesus Christ, he’d committed now.

To get a decent angle of your screen he would have to step back a little from the desk, making it pretty damn obvious he was snooping. If it was only a glance, just a few seconds, he should be in the clear. Mindful not to get to close (you seemed to have eyes in the back of your head when it came to him, probably since he was your attending), he took one last scan of the room to check no one was clocking every last shuffle he was taking.

Pursing his lips with arms crossed tightly across his chest, he stepped back swiftly, eyes flicking down your screen. The majority of it was taken up by a word document, your name is bold letters across the top. Underneath was a jumble of dot points, places and years and accolades and societies—a resume?

A resume…your resume. You were leaving?

His heart went somersaulting into his stomach, bouncing off his ribs on the way down.

When had you decided this? Where were you going? When were you going to tell him?

Jack felt anger and grief and confusion and jealousy all at once in his veins like some kind of poisonous cocktail. What was he, some kind of teenager? What had he ever done to deserve an explanation from you? You, who was so wonderful and so clever and so funny and so so beautiful. You who had only ever weathered his grumpiness and sour expressions and poorly timed criticism with grace and patience. You who’d never figured out how to be a pessimist, who never let the bad days win. The thought of your absence was more painful than he could have ever expected — it scared him goddamn shitless.

“Dr Abbot?”

Dr Ellis had materialised out of nothing on the other side of the desk, one eyebrow cocked. Jack nearly tripped over his own feet to get away from you and the scalding sensation of shame burning across his face, “Ya?”

“Uh, can I get your eyes on a case in South 15? We’ve got a 10 year old, lethargic, sweaty, confused. Her parents are insistent she hasn’t ingested anything.”

Your head snapped up, finally divorced from whatever hypnotic pull the resume had on you.

“Does she have control over her extremities, fingers?”

Ellis frowned, “She was moving them a lot, almost obsessively. I figured if might just be a reaction to the confusion and being in a strange place.”

You stood in one fluid motion, hands quick to grab a pair of gloves, feet quick to dance around the station to get to Ellis’ side.

“Mind if I join? I think we need to look for a spider bite. Funnel-weavers are usually—”

And with that the pair of you were gone, walking shoulder to shoulder into the fray like soldiers in arms, conversing in low, practised tones. Ready to tackle whatever the inside of that room held; the scariness of having to diagnose quickly, the stress of terrified parents breathing down your neck. It didn’t matter how bitter-of-heart Jack had become after all the years of carnage, there was still a part of him that sang at the sight of a well-oiled team. It was selfish, he considered, to believe your leaving would effect just him. Every last doctor, nurse, support worker, radiologist, technician, transport aide, frequent flyer and desk clerk would mourn your loss. Perhaps the endearing Mel King most of all. She had taken to your cheerful demeanour and calm teaching style like someone drowning does to oxygen. In the time Langdon had been a voluntary inpatient, you had been a much needed rock in the stormy wake of that revelation. Another loss could send her off kilter again, and the ER needed her…badly.

So where exactly were you planning to run off to? Surely you wouldn’t go overseas again, not after what had brought you home the last time...

Morality was telling him to just walk away, to busy himself in some problem that likely was currently yearning for his help.

They hadn’t reached out had they? Could they convince you to go back?

He wished Bridget would just call for him, that Shen would bustle in with all his careful questions. But wishing would not make it so. And he had fought so long, all his life. The older he became, the easier it was to just surrender. To drift. The computer was about to fall asleep, locking it to the world. One swift movement of the mouse sealed his fate. He was a shameless snoop, a betrayer of privacy - your privacy.

It couldn’t be denied, the resume was impressive. Very, very impressive. How many graduating honours could one 30 something year old have? And the places you’d been, you’d practised - how many names could you possibly stack next to each other? Some of them he hadn’t even seen with his eyes, even after all the time in the camouflage pants that chaffed like you wouldn’t believe. You’d seen the very worst Covid had served up in Mexico City and Rio, you had been at the very front in Ukraine, in Afghanistan, traipsed all the way across North Africa and South America and just about every island in Indonesia. Pittsburgh, even with its fair share of tragedy, felt so foreign on the page next to all the adventure and danger. It would be easy to think that you had simply become bored, and wished once again to go somewhere that you could stem the flow of blood. Jack thought the blue beret would match the new blonde hair quite nicely.

“Dr Abbot?”

He froze. That voice. How long had he been staring at the carefully typed words, wishing they would reveal an answer?

There was no way, no way at all that he could gracefully and silently retreat from this one. He was elbow deep in the cookie jar, no better than a child, spited at not being told the grown up’s secret. He looked behind himself with humiliating slowness, feeling infinitely small and ashamed. The small crease between your brows had deepened into a valley he could not dig himself out of.

“Dr James.” He said, his voice sounding all together too loud and too far away, “If you are walking away from a computer in any circumstance other than a complete emergency, you must log off, there is confidential information of patients that must be protected from wandering eyes.”

“Wandering eyes?” You let a laugh escape, entirely hollow.

And then, with more steel then he had ever heard, “Can I speak with you privately for a minute?”

“Fine.” He said, straightening with an angry click from his back. Too old for all this high school shit. You made a point to lean past him, and log off with a few aggressively passive aggressive snaps of the keys.

He trailed behind your long, mechanical strides, deeply unsettled by the stiff set of your shoulders. Maybe you’d developed the ability to be negative in the time to took to stomp from the nurses’ station to the family room door, which you promptly shoulder charged open. Once it was safely closed behind both doctors, you whirled on him.

“What the hell were you doing looking at that?”

“Like I said, you need to log off—”

“Bullshit, Jack!” You looked wild, eyes impossibly wide, “There was no reason for your face to be 2 inches from the screen to log me out. Or have your eyes completely given out since the start of shift?”

If there was no way to dodge the bullet, he may as well try swallowing it, “What exactly do you plan on doing with that document? You gonna flee the country again? Run from all us sorry fucks here in the Pitt?”

You recoiled, like the venom in his words had actually struck your skin. Jack watched them sink in, the sizzle of their marks.

You shook your head once, looking down at your sneakers, the 10-year-too-old linoleum floors.

“I can’t believe you. I cannot believe you.” The words were pulled straight from your chest at the end of meat hooks.

Jack opened his mouth to strike again, but your gaze shot upwards and locked onto his. The attacks died on his tongue.

“All I have done since I set foot in here was try and get close to you Jack Abbot. I have offered you my full attention, my utter respect and confidence and trust, all my effort, all my energy, everything I have.” You took an incredulous step backwards, unsteadied by your own words and the weight of them now sitting between you, “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, I would ride right on back into all the shit and misery all over again if that is what you asked of me.”

Something that looked frighteningly like a tear slipped down your cheek and off your chin.

“And what do you offer in return? You push and push and push me away.” The words wobbled now, exhausted from the revelation.

“What right do you have,” You gasped, “to now act betrayed about this? To declare you’ve always cared? Like its me that’s hurting you?!”

Killshot.

Jack’s mouth pressed into a hard line, a terrible burning spreading through the back of his eyes, a horrible pressure on his chest. All that time he had been pretending not to look at you, you had been staring straight through him into his very soul. Seeing every ugly inch of his insides. He wanted to run, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness at your feet.

Bridget rapped sharply on the door of the window, her face grave, “Car pileup on the highway, multiple traumas, 4 minutes out.”

By the time he turned back to you, your face had been schooled back into cool neutrality, a deep breath filling your lungs. Before Jack could reach out and touch you, you were gone, like you were never even there.

~~~~~

um, so yeah I guess? more soon! x

#the pitt #jack abbot #jack abbott #the pitt fanfiction #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #jack abbot fanfiction #jack abbot angst #the pitt angst #dr abbott #dr abbott x you #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x female reader

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knightyoomyoui · 2 months ago

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The Price Of Becoming The Chosen ONCE [+18] (COMMISSIONED)

ft. TWICE's Mina (x Male Reader & other TWICE members)

TYPE: Fluff, Angst, Smut

WORD COUNT: 12064

REQUESTED/ORDERED BY: @vl-45

TAGS: cheating, blackmailing, sex slave, possession, harem, obsession

NOTE: One of the longest fics I've ever written because I really love the plot that OC has given to me. Thank you again for ordering and I hope you'll have a great time reading what I made for you!

DONATE OR REQUEST FOR COMMISSION HERE: https://ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui

DESCRIPTION: It follows the story of YN as he goes through the challenges he has to face from the consequences of being the center of their decisions driven by their respective desires of claiming him, in contradiction to the thought that his life would only change for the better after being Mina's lucky boyfriend and getting introduced to the rest of the members.

==OO==

ACT 1

The crowd was packed inside the Ilji Art Hall, where more than a hundred ONCEs went for TWICE’s fan meet in accordance with their new comeback with “Strategy” featuring Megan Thee Stallion. Everybody started to find their seats and found everything all set up on the stage. The only one that was missing yet is the one they all came for.

They all went out and headed through the backstage. As the huge monitor began playing their MV teasers, they were given a go signal to begin entering the stage one by one. The crowd erupted in joy to see their favorite idols in person, waving their hands and presenting them their natural bright expressions written all over their faces.

TWICE were preparing themselves in a room. Some took this as a chance to rest for a while; others went for chit-chats or used their phones.

The manager then opened the door, signaling them that they can now enter the hall.

The girls made their signature greeting, and the remainder of the event followed. The fans were now given the chance to step up to the stage to get closer to meeting each member of TWICE and do as they please along with their own merch they want to be signed and gifts they purchased for them. Obvious to how they behave, the fans were rather shaking slightly in nervousness, acting strange due to shyness, while the rest were just calm and confident.

And that includes you.

Along with your recently bought Strategy album, including some TWICE-designed bubble fan with a penguin plushie, it’s definitely clear who is the specific person you’re most excited to interact with. You got to talk to Nayeon, Jeongyeon, Momo, Sana, and Jihyo… until it is time to move onto the next chair. She went to say goodbye to the other fan after you before she turned her attention to you.

Just like that, your composure that you’ve been preserving and holding since you arrived here immediately melted. You caught the first sight of Mina having eye-to-eye contact with you. It almost felt like everything went slow motion and blurry the longer you stared at her gummy smile.

“Hello, earth to ONCE?” She asked you, waving her hand in front of your face. You were even aware that you looked stupid in front of her, giving her the first ticket of making yourself an embarrassment. Your popping eyes and gaping mouth lowered down as your senses snapped back to the real world.

“O-oh! Uh- uhm, h-hi. Oh my god.” You quickly reshuffled yourself back into your proper posture. “I’m really so sorry, I was just-”

“Yeah, I get it. Still can’t believe it’s real, isn’t it?”

“Definitely.” You chuckled. “I don’t know if I’m just dreaming right now or not.”

“Wanna find out?” Mina asked you who didn’t get enough to respond quickly. Shortly afterwards, she lend her hand on you. “Hold my hand.”

“W-wha-” Mina just giggled at your malfunctioning state. She finds it hilarious that you’re acting funny with your panicking actions at the moment.

“We don’t got all the time, ONCE. If I were you I would take the-”

Without any further ado, you hurriedly put your fingers in contact to her hand. The touch sent shockwaves through your skin, goosebumps rising. “Holy shit, you are indeed real.”

“Language.” Mina shushed you.

“Oh s-sorry, pardon my bad mouth.”

“Hehe, it’s fine. It’s normal for adults to curse.” Mina waved it off. “I get it, you’re just too dumbfounded right now. Is this your first time?”

“Yes.” You answered with a nod. “I actually just had the opportunity to attend a fanmeet to finally see you girls for the first time. I mostly spent a lot of money just to get in here.”

“Aww I appreciate the dedication!” Mina was touched at your efforts. “May I know your name?”

“It’s YN.” You introduced yourself. “Been a ONCE since last year. I’m just new, I know but I did a lot of research to consider myself kinda knowledgeable about your careers currently.”

“You sure do love TWICE that much, huh.”

“Yeah, but mostly you are.” You quickly covered your mouth in surprise. Mina was left speechless at your confession between she teasingly laughed and amazed at your “accidental” remark.

“And I love the fact that I am your bias.” Mina expressed her pleasant reaction. “Great choice.” She gave a quick glance and a stoic look at the other members before laughing in which you can’t help but to join her.

“So what do you have for me here?” She switched the topic.

“Uhm I have my Strategy album here, I already heard all the tracks and I wanna say they are all amazing.”

“What’s your favorite track?”

“The title track and Like It Like It.”

“Ooh, we’re the same. High five!” She offered you again her hand, and it’s making you crazy knowing how lucky you are to get this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to not only hold Mina’s hand but also to also share a surreal hand gesture with her. This is literally a next-level interaction you got here with her, and how dumb of you to just let it go to waste.

You slammed your palm onto hers, and both were glad at what they did. She reached for your album and signed it with her marking pen before giving it back to you as its owner.

“Thank you so much! And uhh, lastly I bought this for you.” You presented her the penguin plushie you were also carrying. “I hope you like it; I tried to find one of it that is as cute as you.”

Mina was satisfied with your compliment, pursing her lower lip and nodding at it. “And you certainly did accomplish that. I love it!” She grabbed your plushie and cuddled it with a smile. You felt touched seeing your bias enjoying your present despite how simple it is.

The manager then went behind Mina and looked at you both. “Time's up, Minari. Sir, you have to proceed.”

“Hey, take out your phone,” Mina commanded you, and you complied, quickly searching for it in your pocket and pulling it out. “Let me give you a memory to recall that’ll assure you these all happen for real. Let’s take a picture.”

You raised your phone, with your cheeks flushing from excitement and bliss. It then went all tomato when you heard what Mina said afterwards.

“Pinch my cheek.” She poked her cheek twice as she leaned her face on you. You just want to at least give Mina a warning message to take all these carefully and not too suddenly, as you feel like you’re about to get your heart exploding in flattery because of the effect she’s giving at you.

“O-okay.” You followed, placing your fingertips and pressing them on Mina’s soft and smooth cheeks. You are breathing heavily as you do so. Raising your phone and clicking on the screen, it captured this unforgettable moment you have shared with Mina.

“Thank you so much, Mina! I wish you and TWICE all the best for next year!”

“Thank you as well, YN. It’s nice to meet you.” You and Mina exchanged bows at one another before you switched chairs and face Dahyun next. Even without your figure in front of her, Mina couldn’t help to still follow you with her gaze. It was like she was struck by interest she couldn’t describe.

You also were throwing glances at her through the rest of the event before it ended. It was a lot of fun seeing them being the usual happy go lucky type of a group which also shows that they seemed like more of a family rather with how kind they treat each other. As you made your exit in the hall and enter your car, you let out every emotions you were holding while being inside there.

“I can’t believe it, I literally got inches up close with TWICE and Mina today. Best freaking day ever.” You muttered dreamily to yourself before driving your car away back to your home.

On the other hand, Mina couldn’t help but to rewind back her interactions with you. She saw the potential of you being a great friend to get along with because of the quality of your attitude. It made her a little bashful when she silently admitted that she was more impressed, as along with your personality comes an attractive appearance as well.

Fortunately, the eyes of the fans along with their opinions aligned with Mina’s initial thoughts. Scrolling through social media, she found a couple of clips from the fan meet that feature her interaction with you from different angles. Checking the comment section, it was filled with numerous words from other ONCEs positively agreeing that she, along with you, has made a fascinating, adorable moment together, which made her grin.

It truly was suck when Mina remembered that she’ll never meet you personally again. That is until one day, she was proven by her thoughts to be all mistaken when she visited her favorite bakery shop. As she was about to order, she encountered a familiar face in the cashier.

“W-wait what? Oh my…”

“Oh, it’s you!” Mina’s face lightened. “You’re the fan I got to talk last fanmeet. YN, right?”

“No freaking way, she actually remembered my name?” You were in appalled at the mention all brought by her sharp memory.

“Y-yes, that was me.” You said. “It’s very unexpected to meet you here again.” said sheepishly.

“I am too, I didn’t even know you work here at my favorite bakery.” She admitted.

“Well I just moved here yesterday after I got accepted from the job. It’s just a part-time, want to find something worth my time to be independent of.” You shared.

“So you also live here close?”

“Almost.”

“Really? Well…” She gestured you to come closer in which you did. “This shouldn’t be told to others, but I just want to inform you that I also live around here as well.” She whispered.

“Oh. Wow, it’s really making me very lucky to see and talk with you again.” You said. “But uhh, why did you told me that easily for me?”

Your question had Mina baffled as well at her decision. She came up with a reason rather, one that she could relate the most. “I… I don’t know, well atleast I didn’t told you where I exactly live, you know.”

You scratched your head as you understood her point late. “Oh yeah, my bad. Boundaries.”

Mina agreed silently and giggled at your guilty demeanor. “It’s okay.”

“So, Miss Myoui may I have your order please?”

Mina spoke out about her preferred bread to buy for breakfast. You tried to maintain the good performance, especially since this is a hugely popular celebrity as one of your customers; you don’t want to put shame on yourself, this new job you have, and your manager. After placing them on the paper bags, you handed them to her, in which you received money bills from Mina.

After securing the payment, you greeted Mina politely. “Thank you for coming, Miss Myoui! Have a nice day!”

“You too, YN.” As she was about to step outside with her manager, she rotated her feet back to the opposite direction, approaching you again on the counter which perplexed you. “Is there any concerns, Miss Myoui?”

“Perhaps you’ve seen about how we are trending right now in K-Pop media. Did you see the videos of us from the fanmeet few days ago?”

“Oh that, yeah. I was stunned that we hooked most of attentions to us that day.” You shyly said.

“I actually think you’re a good person to hang along with, YN. The fans seems to agree and so do I.” She curiously stated. “If I say I’m giving you a chance to be friends with me too, would you take it?”

“Y-you want me… to be friends with you?”

You were mindblown at her invitation. What in the timeline of this universe are you living in? you thought to yourself. What deeds have you done for you to be granted to step into this situation, standing face to face with Myoui Mina, a member of your favorite girl group TWICE, asking you to be friends with her?

At first these are all a dream to imagine. As much as you wanted to ask her again if these are all real, you don’t want yourself to have trouble acting normally in front of her again. You just stared at Mina, completely astounded.

“Yes.” Mina repeated again that she has made the decision. She looked at her manager who is giving her cautious gazes but Mina looks to prevent and calm it down with her assuring one. “It’s fine if you don’t. I get it, it’s not okay for an idol to be closer with a-”

“I accept.” You cut her off to show how much willing you are. “I mean, who in their right minds wouldn’t want to have as someone like you in their life.”

Mina felt fluttered at your praise. She showed again her usual gummy smile. “You’re too soft-spoken for me.”

“Because you deserve it.” You shrugged.

You and her stared at one another before she bid goodbye to you and thanked you again for accepting her. In the middle of your job, you have lost your mind processing the truth that Myoui Mina is seriously one of your little amount of friends now. At the van, Mina was warmed to know that you didn’t care about the distinction between your roles in life as a basis for developing a close connection together.

ACT 2

“My manager would be here in 5 minutes.” Mina said after checking the time on her phone. “Thank you for agreeing to this, YN.”

You and Mina cooperatively took each step on growing your closeness together through various ways. Even if it meant for Mina to look like a complete anonymous person to the public with her black jacket, shades, and pants, as long as she got to be with you anytime you two wanted to hang out, it was no bother to her. Meanwhile, your respect and admiration for Mina’s determination of being a true friend who assures that she gets to be present by your side when you need her grows each time that passes.

The two of you would get to know each little detail about yourselves,, whether through conversations, hobbies each of you was joined to participate in, and sometimes deep talks where you and Mina would spill some worries that just can’t get out of your head and chest that easily.

Then Mina picked up this idea she had to strengthen your trust and make your bond stronger when she sent you a message that made you bewildered during your duty at the bakery. As usual, you wanted to reconfirm if what she said was true, so you asked her again. She really didn’t have any typos or a short out-of-trance moment while she was constructing the message: she actually wants to bring you to their dorm.

Her reason: she admitted that hiding her identity in the public, which wasn’t her cup of tea to be in, is draining her. That’s why she requested you to do something for her this time, which you considered a test as well to observe how you are engaged to allow Mina to spend some time with you as a friend personally.

Without any hesitation, you granted it. You showed up at her meeting place, the coffee shop she chose. Your presence immediately plastered joy on her face.

“No problem. I should do the same for you this time, you know.”

“I thought you’ll protest or reject my invitation because of how absurd it is.” Mina retorted in a tensed manner. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Actually I did thought you didn’t meant it or what. Maybe you have forgotten about the line we don’t have to cross, or yeah let’s say privacy.” You said calmly. “Like, why would you let me be in to your own personal space, Mina.”

“You’re not a stranger to me anymore, YN. You’re my friend.”

“I know. But sometimes I do feel like I’ve barely been known yet for you to trust me this much. I don’t deserve this special treatment I’m-”

“Stop it.” You felt chills when Mina looked at you seriously. “You are already special to me. Think about it, how many ONCEs I had to be close and accept them in as my friend from outside. Nobody but you, that’s why whatever you at it, you deserved to receive it from me because you’re lucky to be.”

You nodded, Mina’s assurance effectively comforting you. “Why I get to be the one then, Mina?”

“Why do you ask? Do you hate it?” Mina subtly looked at you.

“N-no, I just… I just wanna know what did you truly see in me that makes me be the deserving one to know everything about you.”

Mina became silent for a moment as she thought about it. She avoided her gaze to rewind and search for clues she could provide as a reasonable answer aside from your good personality.

“Tell me first, why did you came here to be with in the first place then?” She threw the question back at you.

“Because… I want you to keep believing in me.” You replied. “I don’t want to destroy everything that makes me who I am for you, it would be as if I just let this opportunity to become friends with you to be ruined. I… want to keep you around me, Mina.”

Mina reciprocated your hug to her and buried her face more at your chest. “Seriously, YN. What are we now? I… This feeling I have, I know it’s more than just a friend for you. It may be wrong for others, but I couldn’t help it.”

Mina’s serious expression transitioned into a beaming one. She stepped closer to you and looked up to meet your eyes. “There it is. Why should I be asked if you already knew the answer yourself? I just simply like everything about what you do, because we both know that I’m the motivation for all of it, not because I’m your bias from TWICE, but because I’m just me, a girl named Mina.”

“And to give you one as well, I want us to be fair here.” You couldn’t help it; Mina felt her breath taken away when you trapped her in your embrace. She felt so little around your arms, and she loved how cozy and warm it is to be stuck with you.

“For the first time in my life, I’ve never felt so valuable in someone’s life. That’s why I’d like to be in your company, because you’re giving me purpose to keep on living, not only because I have to strive for my own deficit, but to show that I am also important at who I am.”

“Let yourself fall, Mina. I’ll be here to catch you anyway.”

Both of you stared at one another, as you can view Mina’s surprised reaction that you do share a mutual agreement at her feelings for you. You winked at her and grinned before you continued. “But, let’s just go with the process. We can take things slow. Then, if we’re ready, we can do as we please.”

Mina nodded and giggled at the wonderful idea. “I absolute love that.”

You kissed her hooded head and hugged her tighter, just seconds before her manager and driver stopped the van in front of you two. “Hop in, lovebirds.” She already teased you both, in which you have failed to make yourselves look innocent.

The ride wasn’t that long as like Mina said, she was actually just a bit close to where you live. Upon your discovery, TWICE are currently staying this is giant luxury hotel around your area. The van entered the gates and it parked in front of the entrance.

“Hurry, we might get seen.” She immediately led you both to the elevator in which Mina can now remove her mask as hoodie safely.

Reaching the floor they inputted on the buttons, you knew that you are feet up from the ground because of how slightly tensed your legs are acting through every footstep. Manager unnie stopped in front of one of the doors and unlocked it.

“Thank you, unnie.” Mina greeted.

“Go ahead, you two. And oh…”

Both of you halted.

“I’ll just gonna pretend I didn’t saw what I’ve seen earlier.” She smirked before entering her room, leaving you both shy from being caught.

“Well that’s a pretty lame start on making ourselves look obvious.” You commented, Mina chuckled.

“This way.”

Mina approached the last door at the end of the hallway, she inputted a passcode on it before it unlocked. You felt even more nervous to enter knowing that you’re about to step onto the place where you only just used to see from their vlogs.

“Come in.”

“H-hello.”

“U-uhh, o-okay.”

You stepped inside and removed your shoes. A short hallway greeted you at first before you followed Mina behind to pass through it. After you reached the brighter end, the entire wide area of their room emerged, and in your overwhelmed state, you got to see some of the other members in the living room, just in their simple house attire.

Jihyo and Sana are just watching TV on the couch while Tzuyu is studying something on her phone based on the pen and notebook she had prepared in front of her. As they felt Mina’s arrival, they all got to see you as well, which made them panicked.

“Oh, Mina! And you, the famous ONCE who a fanboy of our penguin here.” Sana cheerfully pointed at you in which you bowed in return.

“Welcome to our house… YN, correct?” Jihyo asked for clarification.

“Yes.”

“Not saying noona, I see. Are you older than Nayeon unnie?”

“A year older.” You confirmed.

“Oh, interesting.” Jihyo nodded. “Well, hi again. Make yourself comfortable, okay? Mina, why don’t you make our guest comfortable around would ya?”

“Okay, unnie. Thank you for allowing me to bring him in.”

“Always for you, Minari.” She responded which both of them smiled. You and her went to the kitchen. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to your idea, Jihyo and Sana were sharing the same sentiment.

“Yeah, it’s a wise choice to allow him here.” She meant in a different meaning, bouncing her eyebrows and smirked.

“Right? He really does look handsome up close.” Sana agreed.

Tzuyu can hear her unnies’ conversation, and even she couldn’t blame them for being like that. She almost got distracted at her lesson in psychology class when her eyes landed on your impressive figure present in front of her.

Back at your situation with Mina, she offered you a seat, which you gratefully took. She poured a glass of orange juice per your request and instantly made you a sandwich. As you sheepishly ate the food, Mina just admiringly watched you.

“You can just say if you want more, okay? Feel free and get used being around here because from now on you’ll be in here frequently.”

“Uh… I won’t object anymore if that’s what you want to happen. I actually would like to meet the other members as well.” Your die-hard inner ONCE wishing for a miracle to become close with them speaking for yourself, because it knew that this is the perfect fantasy for you to live onto.

“Some of them are in their room, but Jeongyeon unnie and Dahyun aren’t around though. One is in her family house and the other is currently filming her movie.”

“Oh okay. I actually don’t expect them to be all around here anyway, I know all of you have different schedules and busy with your own solo projects occurring.” You said. “I’m contented enough to atleast get to meet the others.”

“Speaking of right timing.” Mina turned her attention from your back. “Hai Momo chan”

“Oh, you brought your boyfriend with you.” She teased, making Mina blush in heat.

“We’re just friends…” She defensively said under her breath.

“So far.” You looked at her to join along Momo’s playful antics and Mina glared at you to stop in which you wheeze internally.

“Hi, nice to meet you. You must know me already, but for formal manner, let me do the honor again. I’m Momo.” She lend her hand on you.

“YN.” You touched her hand. It lasted for seconds, you swore it would be just a while but it felt like Momo tightened her grip a bit more. Mina’s fake cough startled you both which Momo gave in to the gesture. “Sorry, I noticed you have a large hand and your grip is strong. You’re working out aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Actually… I kind of got inspired of you and Jihyo’s workout clips I’ve been seeing in my feed so yeah.”

“Oh, really? Woah, that’s great! Momo laughed at the revelation. “Glad that we could also influence others for body fitness. Health is wealth, as what they say.”

“Yeah it did helped me a lot to feel better.”

“Hey, if you like. Maybe you can ask permission to your girlie there and join me and Jihyo, we could use some gym buddy to drag along and introduce you to some other techniques to get fit.” She playfully punched your arm lightly and you chuckled.

“Momo…” Mina groaned at another attempt of her bestfriend making fun of her.

“Hehe, sorry. Anyways, are you in, YN?” She crosses her arm, waiting for your decision.

“Yeah, I could get used to adapt some other exercises.” You said.

“Great! Now excuse me, I would like to grab my mac and cheese on the fridge.” She said.

As you and Mina continued to talk, Momo was sneaking glances at your concentrated manner at her bestfriend while speaking. Just like the previous three co-members of hers, her curiosity piqued at the charm you possess.

“I should be the one who is thanking a lot here, Mina. All of what transpired today, I’ll never forget it. This is what I dreamed of, to meet you all and I knew before that knowing you girls personally would be like once in a blue moon but… you girls changed my life and made it possible. And its all because of you, Mina. Take all the credit, it’s yours.” You stated, breathing deeply to sink in everything that you have encountered today.

She left the kitchen with her bowl of food, crossing paths with Jihyo and Sana looking at her as they gestured the direction, referring to you. Momo just mouthed “wow” and lifted her eyebrows while grinning, in which they chuckled. Returning to her room, she took a mental note to prepare anytime once you visit.

During your hours of stay in the dorm, you also get to meet Chaeyoung and Nayeon, who were busy at their stuff in their respective rooms. They asked you some things regarding being a fanboy for their group and shared how this all still feels surreal for you. Understanding the luck you have, they just laughed and assured you to provide what brings you comfort and peace being with them.

As the sky starts to get darker, Mina escorted you in the lobby of their hotel. Stopping in the middle of the space, she looked at you and smiled gratefully. “Thank you for coming, YN. I really appreciated you being thoughtful to me.”

Mina bowed and held your arm. “About us… we’ll get there, right?”

“I know we are. I won’t let it end anyway.”

You bid goodbye to her as the manager instructed you to enter their service van. Mina watched you depart as she remained in her spot. Mentally, she wished you a ride home safely.

Unbeknownst to the both, all other six members were gathered in the living room, exchanging their first impressions about meeting you.

“He looks pretty cute and a hottie too.” Momo said. “I was almost caught getting blank for a second there, the more I just at his face it’s like… it’s sucking me into his facial features. Good thing I found an excuse to save myself in humiliation there.”

“What got me rather is how huge he looked.” Nayeon bit her lip hungrily, eyes darting sideways. “He looks like a buff baby, and God what I’d give to have a muscle guy like him and crush my head around his triceps.”

“Yeah, we get it. It’s your type unnie, but I think you have to get through us first.” Chaeyoung interrupted. “You made some good points though, damn I’d wish he’ll destroy me with his size.” She shut her eyes and smiled lewdly.

“Woah Chaeng, getting there already?” Jihyo was amused.

“But… I think YN is into Mina unnie already.” Tzuyu joined the chat. They all looked at her and those words had them in dismay. “From how they’ve been so close together earlier, it’s no denial he’s into her.”

“Yeah, but… would Mina be the same?” Sana asked.

“She probably is.” Nayeon said. “Sucks that we all went head over heels already for one guy who is already taken.” She chuckled with a bitter taste.

Mina then opened the door of their dorm, making them pause the topic. “YN is on his way home now.”

“Good. Mina, you sure did pick a good man aren’t you?” Jihyo said.

“I have no regrets, unnie.” She smiled before disappearing to her room.

They all looked back at one another, sharing the same thoughts. However, their expressions is displaying mixed emotions for their beloved friend and sister-figure.

“She is indeed attracted to YN.” Sana said.

Throughout the next weeks, your visit to their place has become regular as suggested and planned. You also finally got to meet Jeongyeon and Dahyun when they were fortunately present in the dorm, taking a break from their hectic schedule. Without your knowledge, the two also suppressed similar interest towards you, much like the others.

Being often at their place granted you the opportunity to form a close connection as well with the other members aside from Mina. It was a great thing to discover their personalities more aside from what you just speculated through seeing them on the media with their content and projects. The consequence of that, however, is that you weren’t aware that you’re transforming into a chick magnet, with how the girls are now attracted to you both perspective-wise and emotionally.

And the best aspect you have attempted with her is introducing yourselves to having sex. You have seen Mina being a bit nervous and scared at your first take with her, which is a relief that it still ended on a positive note, pleasing you in a new direction.

For example, in Nayeon’s case, she would find herself sneakily touching your built physique when she finds a chance to do so. Jeongyeon’s heart throbs when you shower her with compliments regarding your appreciation for her appearance despite the struggles she went through; Momo would position herself to showcase her sexy figure whenever you work out with her.

Sana and her clingy personality, where she’ll just randomly hug you anytime only to get a touch of your muscles, Jihyo started wearing tops that break her cleavage free whenever she learns you’ll be coming after observing you one time inevitably peeking at her assets in the gym, while Dahyun, who is aware of her curves, began using skin-tight dresses that trace her sculpted hourglass figure after admitting that it makes her look fabulous.

Lastly, the two other maknaes, Chaeyoung and Tzuyu, who love getting praised for being great at what they are, have frequently shown you in an eye-catching manner.

They knew what they were doing was wrong since you and Mina are undoubtedly about to develop a bond that is sweeter than just being friends, but it’s so irresistible when they just have to rarely have some guy around with them and it turns out to be hotter and more accurate than the dream guy they wanted to love in the future. They were just being a little hesitant, limiting their actions at first on what they were doing, brought by their dilemmas, until they couldn’t hold it in anymore.

The more you pull them closer into you, the more they want you for themselves to claim and won’t let go.

In the midst of their methods of alluring and flirting towards you, their speculation went true as you and Mina called it official to be a couple months later. Living into the promise that both won’t hold back now that you are now in a relationship with the ideal woman you always wanted to date, you and Mina explored ways to make this journey with her more desirable.

What do you mean by that is the amount of circumstances where she would beg for your cock anytime she gets a free time to unwind or taking you to different places aside from your house and look for a spot to fuck. There is none that she’ll not make you satisfy her being full of cum whether in her holes or through her flawless skin.

Spending a vacation in a private resort with her, other TWICE members and staffs became a usual day for the both of you to have some sex whenever the urge brings you both together. After chugging your fifth alcohol and the combination of Mina being needy for you, she led you in one of the trees away from the group and pounce at you like a hungry animal.

Mina planted kisses around your topless body all the way from the bottom to the top where she turns herself to your neck and mauled at it. You guided her head deeper into your skin before you had enough and brought her into a wild make-out session. Lips colliding, tongues swirling, and saliva connecting your warm mouths controlled with lust.

“I need you so bad right now.” Mina said as she caressed your abs while your foreheads are pressing to one another.

“We don’t have much time, Mina. Let’s get this done or else might get caught by them.” You said as you pecked her lips again.

“Just promise me we’ll continue this later when they sleep.”

“We can.”

Mina absorbed your powerful manhood into her snatch, encircling it with immense tightness. She moaned as you began to thrust your hips again and pick up the pace slowly.

Mina went on her knees as you lower her down with your hand on top of her head. Along her movement, she dragged your lower garment on your feet, exposing your raging cock now in its maximum size ready to be serviced by your horny girlfriend.

She grasped it from the base and performed an introductory stroke before putting the mushroom tip on her puckered lips as she inhaled your scent. Mina pushed forward, the shaft now lodged inside her mouth, and began her blowjob as you held her head for assistance.

You quickly buckled your hips to hurry this up, not giving a damn about Mina’s gag reflex from how you hit the back of her throat repeatedly. She clung tightly at your waist as you used her for your own pleasure, admiring your rough treatment that satisfies her as well.

The girth of your manhood is being coated with saliva by her flirty tongue as she takes you all in, desperate for your incoming reward for her efforts. She looked up at you, confirming that her performance is sending wonders to your senses just by the look of your lustful face.

Thrusting your hips further, Mina’s nose is now bumping at your crotch. She then felt your length twitching in her mouth, a familiar signal of what’s about to happen afterwards, a very anticipatory one.

Gripping her hair, you stuck your cock in her mouth as you filled it with your creamy deposit. She lost the number of times you fired straight through her throat, but she didn’t care; all that matters is that she get to receive it all by herself.

You gently slid in your slimy cock at her mouth. Mina opened her mouth to present a pool of cum. “Swallow.” And she did exactly as you told her, gulping it easily before releasing her mouth to prove no leftovers.

“Good girl. Now get up and bend your ass for me, babe. Let’s finish this.” You helped Mina to stand and changed positions. Mina is now facing the tree and bending slightly for you.

Kneeling behind her, you quickly undressed her swimsuit to unveil her plump ass that made most ONCEs go crazy when she twerked it like a professional during their concert. You feel bad for some who are dying to grab a handful of these tasty buns, but now you’ll fulfill their wishes by taking these into your own hands.

You sniffed her ass for a second and slapped both really hard before you got up and rubbed your length across her valley. “Place it in me, please.” You wasted no more time as you pushed it forward inside her inviting hole.

Her arms embraced the tree as you pummeled through her rear, deliciously watching her skin ripple as you collided your skin into hers. It creates wet slapping sounds that both of you are getting turned on more by.

“Ugh yes yes fuck, you’re so big inside of me, YN.” Mina whimpered as you glided your hands through the surface of her godly sculpted back. Bracing yourself, you wrapped her body close as you fucked her ass faster.

The volume of her moans and stutters increasing. “Sshhh be still or somebody might find us here.” Mina then closed her mouth, her muffled screams as her ass continously being filled to the brim by your magnificent cock.

“Shit. I’m about to bust, Mina.” You went all in to your rhythm, sending her body vibrating at your rough hammering. A last plopping sound, and your crotch pressed at her tempting asscheeks as you unleashed another load of cum inside of her.

Mina huffed as she felt your cock exit her hole and some cum pouring out from her used passage. You scooped some and have Mina taste it to make every drop count.

You both put back your undergarments. “Let’s go, they must be looking for us now.” you said as you pulled Mina with you out of the woods.

ACT 3

Few days later, you were chilling at the kitchen stool, watching some memes at your phone to entertain yourself. Mina is currently at Japan to join her parents visit her late dog’s resting place since its his death anniversary if you remember correctly. You decided instead to hang out with other members to spend your free time.

Footsteps approaching, you turned around to see Momo now changed into her oversized t-shirt after working out with you earlier. She took the chair beside you.

“You can use our bathroom if you want to wash yourself.” Momo said as she noticed your body now dried up from getting sweat drenched at lifting weights.

“Nah I’m good, I’m about to leave now anyway. I can just wash at my home later.” You replied. “Why, do I stink?”

“Yes, it makes me want to puke actually.” She fake acting like she’s having nausea. Seeing your offended and sheepish reaction broke her out of laughter. “Just kidding, you still smell great.”

She leaned closer, sniffing your neck to confirm it, yet again oblivious to her true intention, her burning temptation influencing her to take measures that will get you real good.

“Yeah, you smell manly as ever.” Momo muttered. You stiffened, awkwardly letting Momo breath closely at your skin.

“Thanks, I guess.” You thriftly smiled.

Momo just tightened her lips and just watched you scroll through your Instagram feed. She prepared herself first as what she made sure to remember last time before proceeding with her main agenda of interacting with you.

“How are things between you and Mina?”

“Pretty smooth. I’m glad we could manage despite her busy schedules as an idol.”

“That’s good, yeah. What about being careful, have you guys always ensure that this thing between you and Mina remains private?”

“We do, we haven’t being caught yet or so does her by the K-Media, like we know Dispatch is famous for spotting idols meeting up with mysterious person. Yeah, I haven’t got any news yet about Mina having a rumored boyfriend. So yeah, we’re safe.”

“Oh. Even the people around you aside from the media whenever you guys outside?”

“Positive.”

“Is that so.” Momo pulled out her phone and opened it. “Can you explain this to me then?”

Momo stole your attention from your phone as she made watch a video playing in her device. To your shock, it features a recording of you and Mina having sex secretly in the resort.

“What the-” You said as Mina getting backshot from you illuminated through your eyes. “H-how did you get this?”

“I followed you both shortly after you two left, I was heading to the bathroom for a piss break when suddenly… I heard some moans and clapping sounds near me.” Momo recalled.

“Then this is what I found.” She told you seriously. “Now tell me, where’s the cautious part in there?”

“Momo, it’s not that-”

“I don’t give a shit if you two are having sex in public area, I just want you to think that what if it’s not me who saw you both and instead either some personnel from the hotel or one of our staffs? What would you do if this gets out of hand and get you both exposed by this act?” Momo scolded you.

“It’s Mina who brought us there, okay? It’s not like I wanted us to fuck there. I was telling her that we can do this later but she didn’t listened.” You defended.

“But it’s your responsibility as a boyfriend to remind her what’s right. Mina can be stubborn sometimes, I know her like the back of my hand already, so you should know better as well now that you and her are now together.” Momo stood by her point. “What made you to let her? Were you scared that you won’t get that fuck she’s craving for because she’s sulk-”

“Enough!” You slammed your hand on the table, pent up by her blabbering until your senses reminded you that this is one of the women you’ll forever have an honor to get to know with, and you swore before that if you’ll get a chance to meet them personally, you won’t do any harm on them.

And it seems that you broke that when you saw Momo shocked and frightened at your unexpected temper.

“I-I’m sorry, I- I get it, okay. It was wrong of me and I won’t do it again but…. what I don’t understand is that why do you need to record this as well? I mean, you can just say what happened and I’ll surrender because I know it’s true. What’s the use of this for then?” You said, directing your hand at the video.

“Now you’ve asked, well… I thought of something that I can make what I want possible through this.” She tapped her finger at the table, her expression shifting into something mischievous and naughty.

“What are you talking about?”

“You want me to delete this? You have to do something for me first- oh should I say, to US first.”

“What the fuck? Are you seriously blackmailing me with our sex tape?” You ridiculously asked. You are in utter disbelief right now of this true color of Momo.

“Guess you can put it like that.” She shrugged. “Yeah, we can forgive you for being so reckless to our friend and hold the consequences if you’ll do us a favor.”

“And what is that?”

Momo moved her chair, closing her gap between you two. “Fuck the rest of us just like how you do to Mina.” She smirked as she stared at your flabbergasted face.

You couldn’t process what Momo is asking you to do for her, and damn sure you weren’t expecting that she’ll have this side that’ll be very disliking of you. The once admirable and inspirational idol turned to be someone worse than you could imagine. Even adding to this horrible situation, she’s just doing this on behalf of a group consisted of people you also believed at first to be pure and innocent.

“You got to be kidding me.” You shook your head. “Are you out of your mind, Momo? Have you been hearing yourself? You’re committing a sin with this! You’re betraying Mina for God’s sake!”

“I KNOW! BUT I COULDN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” Momo has snapped, she stood fiercely at you.” AND SO WAS THEM. We tried, but… ever since you stepped foot in our dorm, we found you so attractive in everything. You have it all that most of us wanted a guy to have. Then when we learned that Mina already have you. We tried to be happy for our friend but it pains us as well that we couldn’t have the same.” Momo explained what led her to do this.

“Until we have accepted the fact that we couldn’t have your heart like she does. But… we might atleast get another piece of you that doesn’t require feelings to attain. Something that had us obssessing over you since the beginning.”

She crawled her hands at your arm and cupped your biceps, squeezing its firm yet toughness. “Mina can love you with all her heart and soul, as for your body though… maybe we can just share it ourselves for free.”

Her hands roams down to your side figure until it reaches the hem of your shirt. Momo single handedly removed it for you and you just remained stiffened at your spot as you watched her in confusion.

“And we know you’ll let us, right? You were probably dreaming of having us in your way when you were just a random fan of us.” After throwing your shirt on the floor, Momo then began to undress herself, and your eyes largened at her matching pair of lacy red bra and panties she’s wearing underneath, gulping at how incredibly sexy she actually is. It’s undeniable that every detail of her figure is a sight to behold, a complete package from head to toe that every man would die for.

She grabbed your hand and forced you to stand up. “You’ll be our personal sex slave and we’ll delete the video. Don’t worry, she don’t have to know about what we’re doing. Unless, you want us to separate Mina away from you and never see us again.”

You were horrified at the consequences Momo is considering in case you disobey their conditions. For the sake of your relationship with Mina, you frowned in worry as Momo lift your chin up to her stare at her bare naked body and her devious gaze.

“Do we have a deal with that, YN?”

Without any other choice, you wanted to save you and Mina to these ladies you once treated as supportive friends but has now turned into betraying envy admirers who wants to gain access of your body for free use.

You nodded in response to her question. Momo then started to kiss you passionately, putting touches around your chest and torso as well. She then led your hands on top of her bulging breasts and massage them to match Momo’s expectations.

She let go for a while and dragged you along her. Exiting the kitchen, you saw the rest of the girls all sitting on the living room. Momo looked at them as your lack of clothing together stole their attention.

“He agreed. We’ll be right back.” She exclaimed. You view their grins expanded with a hint of thirst and desperation for your affection.

You followed Momo and got pushed inside her room where after being locked by her, both went through hours of heated and wild rounds of sweaty sex on her bed. She was moaning and screaming in pleasure as you just focused on giving her everything she wanted from you.

Momo was laid in various positions based on what she wanted you to perform, whether its pinning and fucked her like a ragdoll around your cock on the wall, making the bed quake and squeak with your manhandling of her body, or pound her while she’s pressed on the cold floor.

She titfucked your thick cock with some short combinations of blowjob included and have it erupt with streaks of cum that splattered around her chest to finish your time with her.

ACT 4

The equipments would also receive additional purpose not just for a simple exercise as you would attempt to utilize it on pleasuring Nayeon, like making her bounce up and down in your cock while her legs split open, relying her balance on wrapping your head from behind.

Months have passed, and your new purpose for the girls proceeded without Mina having any idea about the huge unforgivable sin you’re committing. She returned weeks after Momo had you in her control. The poor girlfriend had no clue what the walls of their dorm had witnessed every day without her presence roaming around.

Their sexual needs over you intensified, and even with the possibility of Mina arriving home, you still had to do it to every member, depending on who was in the mood to beg for your cock and worship it as their ultimate prize. Whenever Mina closes the door and leaves their place, one of them—or hell, a pair or a divided group by them—would just suddenly pounce on you to take the availability.

You have taken a taste on every single one of them because of this forbidden deal, and they made these all possible in accordance with what they want to happen with you. They have taken turns on you, and you only have one objective to accomplish for them: never leave them not being blessed by your cum all over their spent body after accompanying them anywhere.

Nayeon once took you with her to be her guardian on her pilates schedule. While the coach is gone to attend some urgent stuff, Nayeon would instantly pull down your shorts and shove you cock up in her mouth.

In addition, you showered with Jeongyeon as well. Their water bill about to double because of how much water you both have wasted being tangled together. You fucked Jeongyeon while she stands on one leg with another being lifted, then she finished you off by cumming onto her mouth. Following that, you helped each other apply soap and wash off your bodies.

Sana and Momo had threesome with you. At first you thought it would be a struggle to ensure that both of them will be satisfied equally, but due to how needy these girls for you and them acting like an experts for these thing, they have guided you properly.

It made you to shuffle yourselves in different positions, either taking their pussy and ass at the same time with your cock and talented fingers as they make out or them making your mouth work as the another returns the same at your cock. They also probably had the longest time you spent having sex with.

Jihyo likes her being called your mommy, and she is very welcome to treat you as her little baby. To do so, she would either instruct you to lay on her lap as she sat on the couch and suck her tits alternatively while she jerks off your cock or taking care of you with her massive puppies and oral skills. She also surprised you with a fact that she’s carrying breastmilk already despite not being pregnant yet, a result of having great genes.

Dahyun is the most submissive and gentle type of one; she prefers vanilla sex rather than being banged up, unlike some of her co-members, especially Chaeyoung. The amount of suffering you endured for this small but terrible woman when it came to sex was unmeasurable. This dominant lady won’t let your balls store a single drop of cum for her after edging your cock for an hour and encourages you to piston her tight petite body however she wants to.

And lastly, Tzuyu was almost the same as Dahyun. The only difference was that she wants to switch roles in the bed while maintaining the same pace of the session. It’s kind of strange as well that she’s probably the least TWICE member you came inside of, as she offers instead her big fat thighs for you to also inject your cock in between and blast cum for her gifted asset.

“What’s going on with you lately, YN?” Mina started the topic. “Care to share what’s bothering you, babe?”

You have lost count of how many times you did it while handling your relationship with Mina and your sex life with her too. That’s why it resulted in you becoming physically weak, sympathizing for your emotional and mental state that is also being affected as well.

It didn’t slip into Mina’s perspective for her boyfriend. Her caring instincts for you alerting about the sudden strange transformation of your appearance and mood were noticed. She could also differentiate how you were before than this recent change you’re having.

Always lost in thoughts, gloomy, and quiet. You even reject her, setting yourselves up for another round of sex. That is how Mina would describe you currently. Since this is not the usual you that she loved, it grew concern in her.

That’s why one day, she confronted you in a must. You were just watching the landscape of Seoul beneath from the pavement when Mina approached you from behind with coffee in hand. She looked at your side figure and again, she knew something is wrong.

You gulped and lowered your head a bit more. “There’s n-nothing. Why would you ask?”

“You’ve been not acting like yourself lately. I can see it all.” Mina explained. “You rarely laugh or smile so geniunely at me, it was those that powers me up everyday but… you’ve been so lacking with everything that I couldn’t help but to ask if there’s anything going on with you.”

“None. I’m fine, Mina. Really.”

“But you’re not okay. Don’t set me aside, please. I’m your girlfriend, YN. I should be helping you.”

“What part of what I just said that you don’t understand, Mina?” You glanced at her in frustration. The tension gets heavier, until you’ve realized that you almost just shouted at Mina who only just think of your well-being.

“S-sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. Seriously, Mina. I’m fine.” You shook your head and turned away at her.

Mina wasn’t thrilled at your sudden complain. She came forward and hug you from behind, her comfort almost broke the emotions you’ve trying to hold as much as your can. “You can tell me anything, you know? I love you, and I have to make sure that I share the problems with you. For us to fix together.”

Your body trembled, every words coming out of her mouth felt like a dagger to your chest. “I can’t.”

“You are. I’m always here to listen, don’t put pressure on yourself.” Mina said.

“No, you don’t understand. This is something you can’t handle.”

“Then make me.”

“If I did, you won’t be able to look at me the same again.”

“Is it being insecure again, YN? We’ve talked about this before.”

“No. This is new.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve being torn apart in guilt, Mina.” One of your teardrops finally went loose from your sore eyes. “I don’t know if how long am I going to do this, but I’m just holding on for you.”

“Is there’s something you’re not telling me about, YN?”

You breathed heavily and composed your posture, preparing for the storm impending to come. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Mina.”

“For?”

“I’ve risked something to keep ourselves together. It was wrong but… there was no other option.”

“What is it?”

“Dignity.” A dreaded expression went visible in your face.

“What’s this have to do with your dignity, YN?” Mina cautiously asked, as a strange feeling creeping inside her is telling that she may not digest what you’re about to say.

“I- I… oh God, I know you won’t forgive me for this.” You cried in her arms. “I made myself a sex slave for the girls.” You escaped from her embrace, kneeling with your hands covering your face in disgrace and fear.

Mina felt like her heart just crumpled and eardrums burst at what she had heard. Her eyes twitched and swell before it became watery from the overflowing emotions dealt by pain. The arms that was formed to wrap you in her console started to give up and fell back to her sides.

“Y-you… you did what?” Mina asked as she stared at nothingness. The sunset shining in her eyes in contrast to the building darkness of disgust around her.

“I had sex with your co-members, for a deal to keep our relationship going.” You elaborated. “Because if I don’t, they’ll threaten me to be banned from ever seeing you and the rest of them ever again.”

Mina’s fists clenched in anger. The tears flowing in her cheeks were like disappearing instantly at how hot she’s getting driven by her fury. She seethes it in, while still processing the fact that the people she once thought are her friends and would support her sincerely, would be the cause of the downfall of one of the most important things she cherishes in life through betrayal.

She wasn’t in a good condition to think properly, so her body rather took in charge on controlling what the right thing to do for now. Mina left you in the balcony and grabbed her shoulder bag from her room. You stand up and followed her.

“W-wait, where are you going?”

Mina didn’t answer.

“Wait, please Mina. Let me explain more-”

“DON’T FUCKING TALK TO ME, YN. J-just… don’t. I want to be left alone I-I just can’t stand seeing every one of you for now.” Mina daringly pointed her finger at you, staring right through your soul.

The main door suddenly clicked. It opened, Mina walked through it and saw the rest of the girls who came back from grocery. Momo was in the front, blocking the way.

She was about to greet Mina with large smile on her face when she got startled from the brutal slap she received straight on her face. The girls exclaimed in shock, and Mina stared at them venomously.

“Traitors.” She muttered before taking a turn as she began walking away from them.

All of the girls watched you just helplessly standing in the middle of the room. They understood what this is all mean now. Mina has found out the truth.

SET 5

Some of them were about to chase Mina but she already entered an elevator and it closed.

The rest of them went in silent to deal with the consequences of their actions.

The entire group has no idea of Mina’s whereabouts. They talked to few people they knew that are friends with Mina from outside and nobody have seen nor met them after the incident. They wanted to believe, but they are confident that one of them must be lying as per Mina’s request to leave her alone.

they multiplied her pain than the first time her health succumbed from.

If that was probably what Mina wants from now, they can give it to her, but they won’t be put to rest thinking about how she might be dealing the darkest truth she had discovered.

Almost a decade of being with Mina, they know she’s one of the most vulnerable, and that woke them up to the harsh reality that they not just only hurt their friend for the first time….

The thought of setting Mina into another hiatus term because of their fault made them regretting a lot that they have put their guards down from getting obssessed over nothing but lust from you. Not only that, the guilt you’re having were now being carried by them as well, that’s why they couldn’t blame you as her boyfriend to be this depressed right now.

You and the girls were trapped in the dark, deafening silence and heavy baggage of self-blame. They still tried to be productive as an idol despite of the current situation, while you in whole opposite side, has to see you almost unmoved, looking at the unknown filled with somber hopes to hear your phone receive a notification atleast or ring after hundreds of missed call you have attempted.

It all stopped when almost 2 weeks later, Mina made a return to the dorm. You were in your house when it happened, and so Jihyo immediately contacted you to inform that she’s here. Driving in rush, you arrived at their dorm in no time.

As you stepped in front of the door and opened it, you were met by everyone except Jihyo, Jeongyeon, and Nayeon bowing their heads. You were perplexed when some of them like Dahyun and Tzuyu are crying too. “W-what happened? Where is she?”

“Y-YN… please stop unnie.” Dahyun spoke in ragged tone.

“Why? From what?”

The other missing members appeared from the other hallway, and there was girlfriend carrying a bag and luggages. Your eyes widened when the three are following her from behind as if they’re begging.

Mina met you in her way and you just stood there wondering why she all have her belongings out. It scares you to ask, but you have to find out. “Mina, w-where are you going?”

“I’m not staying on this dorm anymore. I’m also leaving TWICE.”

Your jaw dropped.

“And I’m breaking up with you.”

You watched Mina’s stoic expression in devastation. Your heart felt like it exploded into pieces hearing the words you never wanted to happen together with her. Yet here she was, standing at you in her broken state, managed to announce that without any hesitation.

“No, Mina. Please, can you hear me for a second? Let’s just talk.”

“Get out of my way, YN.”

“I’m not letting you. Just, please think about this first!”

“I MADE UP MY MIND!!!” Mina screamed, and it sent shivers to the girls knowing she rarely raises her voice. “IF YOU AND… THESE SO-CALLED FRIENDS OF MINE NEVER ARRANGED TO STAB ME IN BACK, THIS WOULD’VE NOT HAPPEN IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“Mina, YN owes you an explanation. So do us, as well.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me this time, Jihyo.” She turned around at Jihyo and confronted her with burning rage in her eyes.

“I’m not lecturing you, Mina. I’m just trying to make you understand.”

“What is it that I have to understand?!” Mina confusedly asked. “Other than all of you fucking my boyfriend behind my back, taking advantage of my blindness? Y-you guys are sick!”

“Because I did it all for YOU!” You yelled as you you couldn’t hold it in much longer. The desperation of her to be prevented from ending all of this for good. “I had no choice but to accept it because they blackmailed me, Mina. They dared me that if I didn’t follow what they want from me, they won’t delete that video and they can prohibit me from getting any access to all of you!”

“W-what video?” Mina puzzledly asked.

“We got caught… having sex in the resort.” You revealed. “And they used that to give them something in exchange not to trigger them doing something about us.”

“Who recorded us?”

“I did.” Momo stood from the couch, bravely taking accountability for what she did. “I was also the one who proposed a plan to have YN for ourselves.”

“H-how could you?” Mina was about to break down, her breath shaking.

“I wasn’t thinking properly at that time. Neither were them. We got clouded by lust and the need to sample YN. How attractive he looks, we were manipulated to do some dirty deeds on him. And realizing what we have truly done, we’ve made a terrible mistake, Mina.” Momo explained.

“And you all never thought about how it would break my heart so bad that I just wanted to end it all?” Mina started crying. “I just couldn’t live with the darkest truth that my boyfriend and my friends are cheating on me, and that’s my first relationship tainted with sin because of all of you!”

“Mina, we swear, we thought about the consequences at first.” Nayeon joined the discussion. “We are aware that you already have YN by yourself, romantically to say the least. That’s why… I don’t know, a stupid idea was formulated by Momo here to rather claim YN by ourselves only for his body. And we admit, we are just craving for his affection that it broke our limit to accept.”

“Enough with the crap we’re trying to justify of, if there’s anyone you should blame a lot, it’s us. not YN. He had no choice, he was threatened.” Jeongyeon said. “And you may not forgive us anymore for this, but we just want to say that we’re really sorry.”

“You’re right, I’ll never forgive any of you for this.” Mina glared at anyone. “And I don’t buy any of your apology, once a cheater will always be a cheater, like they say. Who knows, all of you may done it again.”

“I swear, Mina. I never wanted any of it, I could’ve stopped if I want to, but they won’t let me be!” You said. “If you know how it eats me alive everytime I finish doing it with them knowing that I’m still in a relationship with you. I never wanted to do it, but I still did it because I need you to stay.” She watched you sobbing in plead.

“It scares me both as a fan and as your lover that everything we had has to stop if I didn’t follow them. I can’t lose you, Mina. I’m willing to do everything even if it ruins my reputation, lose my dignity, or cost my life, because I love you.”

Mina cried at your last statement. The mask she was wearing since she arrived is now starting to drop. You kneeled in front of her and hugged her thighs.

“Please, don’t go.”

Mina looked at your pitiful state and roamed her sight at the girls watching this dramatic scene in person. “Look at what you have all done.” She gritted her teeth.

“Let me guess, if I didn’t asked him about this, you guys would still do it without my knowledge, huh?” She bitterly chuckle regarding about the absurdity of their reasoning. They just all bowed in shame, knowing that Mina got them defeated with that single sentence.

“I also didn’t want to leave the group, nor break up with YN.” You looked up in surprise to see her wiping her tears. “Funny, right? Despite the unbearable amount of pain you have inflicted on me, I just can’t seem to avoid this stage of life that I reached with all of you.”

“A part of me still wanted to atleast stay. No because being an idol is my passion or my love for YN. It’s because I can’t lose all of you. That’s how special you guys are to me.” They all cried after hearing how touching it was even if they knew they don’t deserve Mina’s kind-heartedness anymore.

“As what I’ve said, this won’t stop unless I had to find out. I guess, there’s still a way to fix all of these. And since I’m already involved at whatever this is, it has to remain like that from now on.”

“What are you trying to imply, Mina?”

“You girls said that you have no found feelings for him, right? Only for pleasure?”

“Definitely just friends with benefits, that’s all.” Sana said.

“Then, let’s make a new deal. This thing you have with him, I’ll allow it to continue.”

All of them gasp in shock, with a mix of utter confusion. “Wait, Mina are you serious?”

“Don’t give me that reaction, I know you girls must’ve been disappointed that you can’t fuck him anymore because I already know the truth.” Mina retorted. “If this is what would keep us together, then this should stay only with us. No more intentions of damaging or kicking out anybody else in our lives too.” She referred to Momo who got what she’s trying to point about.

“You girls can continue being friends with benefits with him, but it would be under my control this time. I have to be updated all the time at what you guys did, maybe I could learn new things to pleasure my boyfriend here atleast.” She patted your head.

“I also will keep our relationship with YN, and that’s what should always matter here. Know your boundaries because if you don’t, I won’t hesitate to take actions about it that you’ll never like.” Mina warned them all.

“These only have to stop if me and YN decided to get marry in the future. For the sake of respect to the family we’re going to build. Or even if some of you began to find somebody to love as well. Are we all clear?”

“We’ll do everything to redeem ourselves, Mina. If that what you wish for, we’ll do it.” Momo agreed.

“Just don’t keep any secrets on me.” Mina then looked at your kneeling posture below her. She threw her bag away and pushed the luggages away. “Get up, I won’t go now. But… I still have one more thing to do to ease off my mind.”

“What is it?”

Mina began unbuttoning her blouse one by one, exposing her lace-cladded black bra encasing her luscious small tits. The rest of the girls were stunned also as they witness Mina going bare-naked in front of you. Throwing the piece of clothing aside, she then moved through her skirt, unzipped and dragged them down to the ground.

You gawked at the incredible view of Mina in her favorite set of black lingerie partnered by enticing suspenders that holds her thigh-high stockings. She pushed you to the wall and cornered you there. Tilting her head aside, she glanced at the other members who couldn’t do anything but to anticipate what’s about to occur afterwards.

“I’m going to punish you all for what you did to me. That means I’m going to discipline this pathetic little boy while all of you only get to watch me empty his balls and make him submit and ravage me under my commands. Understood?”

They all nodded with an unspoken dismay present in their face, but Mina doesn’t give a single damn about it. She then went down on her knees, take off your pants and boxers, and wield the already erect beautiful piece of meat in her dainty hands.

You watched all the girls occupy the carpet and the couch, removing their lower garment to let their pussies free from the lingering sensation that Mina has given effect of her sudden persona transformation. They made their fingers go to work, groping their tits and inserting their digits in each to their sopping wet slit.

“Good luck, YN. You’re in the hands of Sharon now.” Jeongyeon concerningly reminded you.

You matched Mina’s sharp gaze and devilish gaze. She began pumping your cock with her fist close to her lewd face. You inhaled and braced yourself at the immense pleasure she’s given you already.

“You better keep up with me, boy. I won’t go easy on you today.”

Pre-cum escaped from your tip, Mina blew her warm breath at your pinkish head. She cackled as she watched you tremble. Lifting your cock, she gave a long lick from your full balls then the underside and up to your plump end.

“Shall we start?”

==OO==

#twice au #twice oneshot #twice smut #mina smut #twivce x male reader #mina x male reader #kpop au #kpop oneshot #kpop fanfic #twice fanfic

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gloomwitchwrites · 5 months ago

Note

i’ve only recently found ur acc and i’ve fallen in love! ur def becoming one of my inspo’s in writing my own fics!:D

now, what about t141 with an alt s/o who’s always dying their hair or piercing themselves? maybe it’s the first time they find reader doing said shenanigans, what would their reactions be? 🤔 i think soap would have the best one lol, but i’d love to hear what your thoughts about it! <3

Well, hello! Welcome! Now, I had multiple people request this very thing. I am answering one of those asks and the others will simply fall under this one (since they are all very similar). I did go with some variety here since being "alt" can mean a lot different things. I do have one with hair dying, one about showing off their taxidermy/skull collection, a metal concert, and forcing (Gaz) to have a makeover. I had lots of fun. Enjoy!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings: established relationship, humor, fluff, swearing, hair dying, taxidermy, concerts, makeovers

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Jesus bloody Christ. What happened?” John stands in the doorway of the bathroom, his eyes wide as he surveys the scene. “Did you murder someone?”

You stand hunched over like a gremlin in the shower, holding the handheld showerhead. The dye in your hair is circling the drain, but that’s not the only place is stains. The shower is going to need a good scrub as is the bathroom sink.

“I’m changing my hair?”

John blinks. “You told me you were going to a salon.”

“This is cheaper.”

His mouth opens and then promptly closes. You see the gears turning. John is reigning in the panic.

“It’ll come out,” you insist.

“Everything is red,” murmurs John.

“Only temporarily,” you insist.

“Are you talking about your hair or our bathroom countertops?”

“Are you mad?”

“No,” he says firmly, hand on the doorknob. “I’m going to shut the door and pretend that our bathroom doesn’t look like a crime scene.”

“I love you!” you call out as he starts shutting the door.

“I love you, too,” he sighs heavily. The door is nearly shut before it suddenly opens again. “Do I need to grab bleach from the store?”

“That would be great.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Stop moving,” you mutter.

“You’re gonna poke me in the fucking eye, love.”

“It’s just eyeliner. Calm down.”

“You’ve poked me already.” Kyle points at his eye. The white is slightly red with irritation.

Kyle’s gaze narrows, but you only tut, grasping the bottom half of his face with your hand. Squeezing his cheeks a bit, you tilt his face from side-to-side, observing your work. About half of his face is done. You’ve even added face piercings to his lips and nose.

The clothes were the easy part. Kyle was more than willing to put on what you picked out for him. It’s completely different from his tracksuits and jeans. He looks like he walked right out of the punk scene.

“You promised I could do your makeup.” You put a little whine in it, pouting your lip.

Kyle lightly grasps your wrist and tugs, removing your hand from his face. “I did,” he agrees. “But all this? Really?”

You’ve set out nearly every product you have, nearly covering the entirety of the bathroom counter.

“We have to match,” you insist.

Kyle’s mouth twitches slightly but he settles. “Fine. But you better make me the best-looking bloke in the joint.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“This is June.” You present the racoon skull to Johnny.

His eyes widen slightly. “Hello, June,” he greets.

You wait for the eventual frown, for the brief flicker of disgust, but it doesn’t come. Johnny isn’t drawing back or judging you at all. His attention is rapt—focused.

You gently return the racoon skull back to the shelf and point to a collection of preserved butterflies. “These were a gift from a friend.”

“They’re beautiful,” murmurs Johnny. “Do they have names?” He leans in, observing the display of colorful wings.

“No, but they do!” You enthusiastically gesture toward the rest of your collection. There are skulls and bones from all sorts of animals, preserved beetles, tentacles in jars, and even petrified fish bones.

Men say they want quirky, but when they get quirky, they run. Johnny though is entirely fascinated.

“Can I touch this?” he asks with an excitement that surprises you, pointing toward a beaver skull.

“Yes. It’s delicate though. I’m always fixing the jaw.”

Johnny lightly lifts the skull and brings it close to his face, slowly rotating it.

No. Johnny isn’t disgusted. He isn’t shaming you for your special interest. If anything, he’s fascinated.

You’re keeping him.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The shredding of the guitar reverberates in your chest. It stirs your blood, sending waves of adrenaline through your limbs until even your fingers and toes twitch with anticipation.

The breakdown is coming, and with it will come a sea of bodies. They’ll crash against each other like a massive wave before descending into chaos, nothing but flailing limbs and gnashing teeth.

Already, the energy is pulsing, becoming a frenzy that will eventually burst.

You’ve never been in the middle of the pit before. You usually stay off to the sides or well out of the way, not wanting to receive an injury.

But now you have protection. Now, you have a bodyguard.

Simon stands right behind as your support and your shadow. This isn’t his scene, not that he doesn’t enjoy a metal show, but he could care less about throwing himself around in a pit. When you expressed the desire to do so, Simon agreed, but only if he joined you.

Sure, it might scare some people off, or deter others from getting too close, but Simon is supportive anyway.

He’s just a bit vicious. A bit protective.

The shredding rises. It’s time.

A pause.

Then everything crashes.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

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milkbobatyun · 6 months ago

Text

the brief taste of freedom

pairing: yandere!il capitano x reader

genre: angstober, events, yandere

summary: as the captain's wife, others thought the title brought power, fame and money. yet, it was weighed down by the chains of confinement. your yearning to escape had been caught by the captain. would you be able to escape, unscathed?

word count: 1k

C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : yandere behaviour, slight manipulation (?)

a/n: and with that, this fic marks the conclusion of angstober. i hope everyone reads them has enjoyed the fics as much as i have enjoyed writing them (though some were quite rushed LMAO) here where i live, it's already october 31st, so for those who celebrate halloween, happy halloween and have fun trick or treating !! (mini fun fact: this year, i did a home-made cosplay of choso and offered candy/scared children hehe ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

as a child, you had dreamed that love and marriage meant chaste kisses, long vows filled with love and adoration. you relished in the mirages of stunning dresses, chiming wedding bells and petals falling from heaven. but your hopes and fantasies were dashed when you were offered like a prize to the first harbinger, il capitano.

he was a quiet, stoic man of little words. it was no surprise that the wedding ceremony was subdued, a simple signing of a contract, the scratching of pen on paper replacing the chimes of wedding bells.

you should’ve expected this from a harbinger. he held total control over what you could do. your name as il capitano’s wife was merely a façade.

the weight of your title was a mockery. it was supposed to symbolise power, pride, even admiration from the nobles of snezhnaya, but it only brough you confinement and solitude. you had to ask his permission to leave the house, so you stuck to the shadows of the mansion, a wife in name only.

there were no late-night conversations, endearing glances, romantic dinners under candlelight. in fact, you spent most of your time dining alone, the grandfather clock’s rhythmic beats the only sound in the silence.

sometimes, you sat at your window, hearing the maids gossiping about a new festival in town, their laughter and chatter striking a pang of longing within your yearning heart.

he allowed you material things, but outings were out of the question. with every refusal, every permission denied, the fire in you grew stronger. you wanted to escape this frigid prison and experience life.

he knew of how you would sneak into the warmth of the greenhouse at night, peering up at the night sky of snezhnaya, relishing in the display of lights every night.

but recently, he had noticed footprints in the snow, ones that trailed from beneath your window. his butler informed him of how the madame would often retire early in the night, silence engulfing her quarters, with orders to not disturb her until the morning.

il capitano didn’t think there would be a day when he caught you, sneaking away under the watchful gaze of the stars.

il capitano stood by the floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the gardens like a silent guardian. in the distance, he could see the warm glow of festival lights, the people bustling like ants.

nursing a glass of wine in his hand, il capitano watched the people mill about.

suddenly, in the shadows of the garden, he caught sight of a huddled figure, wrapped in the silken sheets of your blankets. they clung to the shadows, feet treading carefully in the ice cold, white powder.

anger seized him in its ugly grip. how dare you sneak out of the manor, when he provided you everything you could ask for. his clawed hand tightened against the wine glass, almost crushing the fragile object in his grasp.

silently, he abandoned the cracked glass on the nearest table, his furred cloak settled around his shoulders as he stalked towards the door, footsteps echoing with the intent to confront the one who dared to escape from his grasp.

you were so close to the hole in the garden wall, freedom just a mere few steps away.

your movements are stilled as a cold, clawed hand crushes your wrist in its wrathful grasp, fear coursing down your spine, turning you into an icy statue.

“where,” his voice growled, a threatening edge to his voice. “do you think you’re going?” the cold, no, fear rendered you speechless, your teeth chattering against each other.

“the…the festival,” you manage to whimper out, face grimacing at the force of his grasp on your wrist. you were certain it would be turning tender purple and blue the next morning. your breath was caught in your throat, the last warm puff of air suspended in the air, as though it was holding its breath, waiting to see what the captain would say.

“your little games, it ends here, tonight, in this very garden,” il capitano hisses, his grip unrelenting. under his armour, he could feel how your pulse raced, its rhythm erratic and feeble.

with your remaining hand, you clutched the blanket tighter around you. il capitano could see, underneath, you had donned the plain clothes of commoners.

fury consumed him like a flame. he gave you premium silks from liyue, commissioning the famous lady chiori to design your outfits based on the latest trends. and yet, you lower yourself to the level of those lowly ants and don their filthy clothes.

a muscle twitched in il capitano’s jaw, but your view is obscured by his heavy helmet.

il capitano weighed his choices carefully.

forbid you from leaving and lose your favour or let you go to the festival and risk you running away.

neither seemed favourable to his calculating mind, so he chose to compromise. he would sacrifice his precious time to accompany you to the commoner’s festival.

with a heavy sigh, il capitano relented.

“if you are so intent on mingling with the commoners,” he sighed, voice edged with disdain, “then i will accompany you.”

lit only by the faint moonlight, he watched as astonishment and joy settled into your features, your brows raised in surprise. il capitano, the feared harbinger, would spare a morsel of his time to accompany his wife to a festival hosted by ordinary snezhnaya citizens?

that was unheard of, unprecedented. who knew what rumours the nobles, with an abundance of free time on their hands, would gossip.

the il capitano, going soft for his wife. utterly scandalous.

“but…” the words had barely escaped your lips before you hastily shut your mouth, intent that no more words fell from your lips, lest it cause him to change his mind.

“enough.” his tone was final, leaving no space for argument. “you will have your night, however, you will be under my watch and,” he continued, voice laced with disgust. “you will change out of those filthy clothes before you leave.”

it wasn’t a statement you had wanted, for you didn’t desire to draw attention to yourself when you attended such events, however, something in his voice held a glimmer of a sharp, hidden weapon, a clear warning: this fantasy of escaping would end here, he would not be lenient.

for tonight, your freedom had been granted. you could only pray to the archons that il capitano would feel good humoured enough to accompany you once more, at another time.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

#genshin impact #genshin #capitano x reader #genshin impact capitano #genshin capitano #capitano x you #capitano x y/n #yandere capitano x reader #yandere capitano #capitano #angst #angstober #angst oneshot

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saetoru · 2 years ago

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good.

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left.

and then satoru wins.

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead.

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure.

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware.

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place.

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it.

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free.

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair.

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared.

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on.

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close.

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper.

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?”

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for.

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore.

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down.

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were.

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself.

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever.

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why.

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought.

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare.

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature.

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again.

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face.

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high.

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath.

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause.

and then you remember.

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru.

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have.

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again.

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh.

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself.

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close.

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness.

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night.

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans.

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest.

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room.

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry.

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly.

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not.

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen.

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast.

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between.

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace.

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile.

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart.

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name.

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles.

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away.

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment.

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years.

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do.

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you.

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru.

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had.

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him.

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind.

his breath hitches.

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror.

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms.

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened.

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him.

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance.

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to.

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention.

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence.

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them.

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

��sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them.

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to.

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down.

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it.

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself.

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life.

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in.

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you.

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin.

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for.

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you?

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it.

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life?

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him.

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal.

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score.

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous.

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort.

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good.

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off.

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think.

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles.

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it.

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug.

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed.

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place.

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look.

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch.

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes.

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this.

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room.

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook.

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again.

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind.

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks.

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left.

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good.

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence.

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away.

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow.

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation.

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too.

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes.

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too.

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?”

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever.

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive.

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy.

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru.

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little.

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled.

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises.

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough.

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink.

finally, for once, you’re enough.

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering.

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much.

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum.

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

#teepods.writings #fics.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #geto angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru angst #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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