#part two will be of his bartender uniform scenes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vintagehellfire · 6 months

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Danse Macabre | E.M x Reader

summary: Your best friend invites you to a concert that you're less than keen on but you get much more devil worship than you bargained for.

warnings: porn without plot, plot? What plot?, choking, nipple play, blood play, bruising, oral (m receiving), sacrilege, bdsm, dom sub dynamics, just really stupid horny honestly. Eyefucking, teasing, edging???? Spit kink, mask kink, devil worship. This is just pure filth honestly, piv, unprotected sex (don’t do this with strangers ya’ll pls I’m begging) mdni 18+

word count: 8.6k

Thank you to @the-unforgivenn for beta reading this pure filth for me and for correcting my atrocious keystroke mistakes. I love you so much babe.

part two

How you got dragged to some sort of musical satanic ritual by your best friend Lilly was far beyond you. The heavy instrumentals contrasted too harshly with the light and theatrical vocals. If looks could kill, Lilly would be dead. This wasn’t your scene, it never would be, it’s what you told yourself. Sipping your gin, arms crossed, you scrunch your face, the bartender having been too busy staring at your chest while he poured your drink, resulting in a rather disgusting concoction. As if the night couldn’t get any worse.

One of the lighter intro songs came to an end before the pyrotechnics roared to life next to you, one of the guitarists emerged from behind the waft of smoke. It was then that your breath caught in your throat, the way that he played had you hypnotised, placing you in a trance so deep that you couldn’t tear your eyes from him even if you wanted to, veins protruding. Your eyes trailed over his body, tight jeans fitting to his body and a uniform dress shirt adorning his torso, long sleeves and turtleneck underneath, hiding any soft skin. As you would be met with a face, you were surprised to find that you were met with a helmet of sorts, breathing tubes and other such accessories adorning it, as well as sticking out the top. His eyes burned red like embers behind the wide goggles, a darkness swallowing the man behind the mask and drawing you in. Curiosity got the better of you, you watched closely when he stomped to the beat of the songs. he fans collectively let out a wave of screams, throwing flowers on stage. You rolled your eyes so hard they probably should have rolled out of your head. Were you attracted to the masked musician? In some capacity sure, but wholly? No. They just… they knew how to play well and those hands… you could admit those hands were something. You shook your head to rid yourself of impure thoughts, it wasn’t like you liked the music anyway.

Your face was stone cold and your arms were crossed over your chest unhappily, cleavage pushed up, and the leather of your jacket creaking. That was the thing about you, you’d rather die than remove your prized biker jacket. It was your battle armour, much like the guitarists get up seemed to be the band’s uniform. To them, it protected their identity, and it protected you – you wouldn’t be caught off guard, you wouldn’t be vulnerable, you couldn’t. Your icy stare pierced through the smoke, through the flames, as you focused your gaze on the guitarist in front of you. His white guitar distinguished him from everyone else just as your expression did you –perfectly sour.

The crowd behind you chanted along to the songs, screaming about Lucifer and the congregation and whatever other shit you chose to ignore in favour of your best friend. Lilly was one of them, jumping up and down, chanting every word of the hymns the lead singer belted out to the tune of the strong bass line and the chugging of guitars. As much as you wanted her to have fun, you rolled your eyes, this wasn’t your scene. Every song that started out heavy led to a disappointment with the vocals or the rock opera and so you just opted to be the designated party pooper and give your best glare towards the lead guitarist who seemed all too interested in your corner of the stage. He wailed on his guitar harder than you’d seen anyone wail on one before, a flash of worry briefly crossing your mind but you quickly pushed it down.

The masked man played through his songs flawlessly, fingers moving expertly across the fretboard, mind and body completely in tandem; however your pout, your knit eyebrows, and crossed arms caught his eye, he’d stare back at you through his tinted goggles, smiling softly to himself at how adorable you looked when you were so grumpy. He could tell this wasn’t your scene and so during the slow and long intro to a song he walked over to the very front, standing just a few feet above you. He tilted his head to the side, his mask listing as he stared, playing the intro as his eyes never left yours.

The small movement caught your attention, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you felt like the glowing embers behind the goggles were burning into your very soul, dissecting every little secret. He slowly points to himself before he gets his queue to jump into his next riffs, stomping away as he pushed through the heavy chords that thundered through the concert hall. You dared not admit it to yourself, but something inside you snapped, a warmth starting to spread between your legs. No, no you couldn’t possibly be attracted to this, right? But just as that thought entered your mind, it shot out of your head and straight to your heart when you saw the man before you strut over to his bandmate. The two bent over backwards together, the taller of the two supporting the back of the man with the white guitar. A cute moment, or so you thought, but as soon as the shorter was up for his solo, the taller wrapped an arm around him and pawed at his cock, tugging him into his muscled body, catching the one you had your eye on off guard. He rocked his hips into the other and rested his masked head on the shorter shoulder, fake panting. He did not falter however, and that had your brain reeling.

With a small smack on the ass, the taller let him go, strutting away as the crowd erupted in ear shattering screeches, and if what had just transpired wasn’t one of the hottest things you’d seen, you would have absolutely rolled your eyes, but instead it had you shifting in your place, all too keenly aware of the small flare of heat that lapped at you and the proximity of the other bodies surrounding you. You suddenly felt small, trapped; and you wanted nothing more than to run out and dunk your head under some ice cold water. What was wrong with you? Your eyes darted from side to side, hoping your best friend Lilly wouldn’t notice.

What went on next was just about to make anyone lose their minds, the lead guitarist started to throw guitar picks into the crowd, plucking one last one from his guitar and marching over to directly in front of you. The song they played next was clearly well known but it was only vaguely familiar to you, it was one you would listen to ironically while doing the dishes, one that you didn’t care much for, but was catchy nonetheless. What you didn’t realise was just how suggestive the lyrics were – and so when the man with the white guitar stood in front of you, spreading his legs to put himself in a more comfortable playing stance you thought nothing about it but his next motions had your panties soaking themselves in your slick. A long and crooked finger pointed to himself quickly, then he went back to wailing on his precious guitar just before giving himself a window of about a second to stop, his ring and middle finger very rapidly turned upwards, flicking rapidly as if motioning fingering you, his goggles deadlocked on your eyes. You could tell he was watching you for a reaction, and how you knew you wouldn’t be able to tell. Christ, maybe you should have listened to Lilly when she was telling you this band was horny. Truthfully, you had shrugged it off, what, some singer in a pope mask acting all horny? That didn’t exactly get your rocks off, but the moment you laid eyes on the masked men playing their instruments, all rational thought flew out the window.

Little did you know that the guitarist did have his eyes set on you, all queues already learned, his body moving on auto pilot, his performance was deliberately exaggerated just for you, his motions tailored to get you hot and bothered. He knew he played the best role, and as the show went on, with the lack of water, and the horrid head, he knew his veins were pronouncing themselves even more, fingers sliding around, fingering the fretboard with an expert speed. Every nook, cranny, and metal notch memorised by the calluses on the pads of his fingers, like an old lover he’d always know how to please. He would pride himself on it, on his accuracy, and he was thankful, oh so thankful, that his death metal band had allowed him the dexterity to pull something such as this off.

Your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from his figure, stalking his every move like a predator with their prey, A game of cat and mouse you both played with each other from the stage and the crowd. At this point, all shame was thrown out the window and you were openly eye fucking him, blood boiling in your veins and mouth starting to run a little dry.

The final nail in the coffin was during their heaviest song during the show, a calm moment before the storm, before the stadium exploded in a downpour of black and white paper confetti. Your eyes fixated on the man before you as the song slows to a steady chug, breathy whispers sung into the microphones. It made your head spin as you were trying to compose yourself, breath hitching as the object of your lustful affection met your gaze. His black inky goggles bored you as he brought a shaky hand up, his other hand chugging the low E of his guitar. You were transfixed by the man, unable to peel your eyes from him as he slowly and seductively licked his hand, tongue expertly flicking between his fingers, his shaky breaths becoming ragged and exaggerated. Pressing his hand to his chest, he threw his head back in a moan, sliding his elegant fingers down the front of his uniform until it was level with his guitar, and exactly in time with his strumming, he fisted his hand and with a teasing motion he tugged at the air. Your mouth ran completely dry as you registered that he was feigning masturbation in front of thousands of people. He had you caught in a trance, hypnotised by his agonising motions, his eyes seemingly staring into your very soul, picking apart every last bit of you - he saw the scars inside and your desires all rolled into one. As his actions picked up, one hand still busy on his guitar, you let out a choked breath, transfixed by the man, ghoul, whatever he was, before you. He commanded all your attention, causing your mouth to run completely dry but it couldn’t have prepared you for his “release”-- letting go the moment the confetti cannon exploded. Your jaw slacked, a strangled moan flying from your mouth as you clenched your thighs together, mouth slightly agape.

The guitarist knew he had you in a chokehold at that very moment, smirking from underneath his coverings. Flawlessly he jumped back into the song and turned away from you, the game of cat and mouse had become too much, too real. It had only taken him an hour and a half to break you down, but once he did he felt a satisfaction he couldn’t explain, and of course he would try to hide it as he continued to strut across the stage as if he owned it. The reality was that he didn’t want to give away just the way this little game had affected him as well, an undeniable strain in his lower half. If his bandmates had noticed, they had clearly made it their mission to torture him, the rhythm guitarist getting on his knees in front of him during a solo, fucking into his own guitar as he pressed his head to the lead guitarists thigh. It wasn’t until the lead placed a boot on his shoulder to push away from him that the one on his knees relented, the crowd exploding in a rain of screams, and yet all you heard was the rush of blood in your ears. You resigned, the game had been won.

As you tried to catch your breath, you looked over to Lilly, thanking Satan that she hadn’t noticed your turmoil. The rest of the show had you holding your breath, knowing that the masked musician had made it his mission to play games with you. the show ended, you were relieved, you might have a moment yet to go home and get yourself off, forgetting the whole of the events that transpired.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and to the merch table before it gets too crowded!” Lilly cheered, sticking her handout for you to take, but as soon as she looked over your face her eyes drained of excitement. “Oh, are you okay? You look a little pale,” she noted, tilting her head to the side.

“Y-yeah, I,” You cleared your throat, “I’m fine, just feeling a little warm. I think I might head home but you go grab some merch. I’ll text you,” you lied cooly. You didn’t want her to know the profound effect that the lead guitarist had on you. With a nod she gave your shoulder a squeeze and darted off.

You could finally breathe, the suffocation that gripped at your throat just moments earlier had slightly dissipated. As dirty as your thoughts were at the moment, it was in your best interest to get moving, and so, as if on autopilot, you let your feet carry you as far from the stage as possible. You slipped past the crowd, weaving in and around groups of friends, teenagers reeling about the show, displeased parents. You wanted to beeline it out of there before anyone noticed you but unfortunately your plan was short lived as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and tug you behind a closed door.

Your brain ran at a mile a minute, trying to figure out whether it was cause for alarm, but as your back collided with the wall behind you, you were met with the masked ghoul from the stage pressing his knee between your legs, pinning you in place. All colour drained from your face as your breathing laboured. There wasn’t any fear in your body, not any longer, and if there had been any,it had been replaced with undeniable arousal, heat being sent straight to your core. It took all your willpower not to grind into his thigh.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The husky voice purred, a small accent peaking through. He smelled intoxicating, like amber and cigarettes, a tinge of iron poking through in the softest of undertones. It drove you crazy, mind spinning, dizzy with want. He cocks his head to the side, his nautical mask tilting, the black goggles seemingly bottomless, swallowing his eyes. The musician’s expression is completely unreadable and if you knew any better you’d say it was like a predator who had caught his prey. Your mistake was thinking the little game you both played was over, yet now it seems like it had just begun. The man leans into you, invading your space completely, his covered mouth coming up beside your ear. “Oh you thought our little game was over, didn’t you?” He pulls back, allowing your caged body some space. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, little one.” His sweet voice purrs, setting you over the edge, hips finally pushing into his leg as your head tilts back, smacking softly into the wall.

“Fuck…” The syllable leaves your mouth as a groan before you can do anything about it. Surely you were dreaming this, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with the same mask, the same expression that stared at you from the stage.

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart, I’ll have to bring you to the green room. We’ll paint it red in sin .” You swore you could hear him wink from behind his coverings but you didn’t care, satan, you didn’t care as long as you could have him. You’d worship him in uniform, all sweat slicked and bloody if you had to. In this moment you had a one track mind and you’d be damned if you didn’t act on your desires… but maybe having these desires meant that you were already damned. “What, not as bold anymore? Devil got your tongue?” He mused.

“Are you going to run your mouth or are you going to fuck me?” You spit out at him, a feigned venom behind your words, but they were too lust drenched to be taken harshly. In an instant his body was against yours, thigh pressing into your cunt, slowly rubbing back and forth.

“Earn it.” He growled out, face burying itself into the crook of your neck to pepper both kisses and love bites across your jugular. Your body caught fire, desperate to be taken by the mysterious man then and there. You hadn’t seen his face and you were mildly worried that seeing it would ruin the illusion. Would you even find him attractive under all his coverings? You didn’t have time to think about it before his hands came to the meat of your ass, tugging you against him with a burning desire, fire coursing through his veins. The strangled moan that ripped from your throat was one you weren’t expecting, but did it ever feel right, his strained cock digging into your hips as he pushed your body closer to his. You could tell he was well endowed even through the fabric of his trousers, a heat creeping up your neck at this realisation.

“Don’t tease.” You spat, hands coming up to grip his slightly torn jacket, his arm coverings hiding any identifiers. You were going off of nothing aside from the little fire element pin that was securely pinned to the lapel of his uniform. Your hands found themselves tugging him forward, daring him to kiss you.

“Don’t be a brat.” The stranger growled, swiftly lowering the cloth covering his mouth before assaulting your lips with his. It was all teeth and tongues, pure lust taking over every one of your senses, and it seemed to be true for him as well. You kissed back furiously, nipping at his bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from him that would turn into a groan as you rolled your hips against his, begging for some relief. “Easy, pet.” He muttered against the plushness of your mouth, a small tender moment slipping through the cracks. As much as you enjoy rough, there was a certain swell that filled your heart in knowing that he wouldn’t push too far.

Your escapades were all tongue, teeth, and lips, strangled moans, and tugging at each other’s clothes until you both reached the green room wherethe band was supposed to be, however, your mystery man had ensured to clear it before he went out to find you. The only time either one of you broke from one another was for air or to push the door closed, locking it in the process. Both of you were too impatient, a carnal desire for one another pooling into your veins, fire spreading through you both and kindling in that very low spot in your abdomens.

“If you need me to stop, the safe word is Beelzebub.” The man’s husky voice cut through the groans, tugging your hips forward into his by the belt loops. He gave you a moment to process what he had said, but instead you grabbed onto his mask and tugged his head forward, lapping at his bottom lip in order to gain access to his mouth. As soon as he parted his lips, you were welcomed by his tongue dancing in tandem with yours. He tasted of wintergreen and cigarette smoke, a combination so sinful, so depraved that you should have been turned off, instead it flooded you with desire.

“Need you.” You panted out between kisses, the man unrelenting his assault on your mouth. You were utterly soaked through, and you were certain that the musician could smell you but you didn’t care, not right now anyway. You should have been embarrassed by being taken like this but it just turned you on even more knowing that maybe you would get to live out your newly discovered kink instead of trying to soothe — or smother — the flames by yourself.

“Do you need me?” The man mused. “Mmm, prove it to me, my little devil.” His hand crept from your waist down to your hips, and from your hips down to between your legs, agonizingly circling your cunt, thumb pressing into the seam of your jeans in the exact spot your clit would be in. “Show me how needy you are for me… Go on…” His husky voice teased. When you didn’t react he spun you so your back would be to him, a strong arm holding you against his body while the other busied himself with teasing you. His breath was by your ear now, and his cock pressed into your ass. He was so worked up that he began to rut his hips forward, moaning at the friction. His moan elicited a reaction in you, causing you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open. The tassels on his overcoat swayed with each rut of his hips, tickling the side of your face. You couldn’t imagine he wasn’t warm in his get up but you were too occupied to do anything about it.

“Please, fuck, I need you.” You choked out, eyes screwed shut as he teased. You felt him lick a stripe up your neck before nipping just underneath your ear as a small warning before latching his lips to the sensitive spot, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. The sickening combination of his lips on your neck, his hard on rubbing against your ass, and his fingers teasing your clothed cunt was becoming too much, driving your senses crazy. A low growl emanated from deep within his chest, reverberating across your back from the proximity.

“Then get down on your knees….” He spins you around, voice low and husky as he shoves you down, a mix of fear and burning desire settling in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your knees hit the ground with a thud and you’d be sure to bruise later, but that was a small price to pay. You watched him undo his belt and pull his zipper down before bringing his hand back up to his face, licking it slowly like he had during the show. You knew what was coming but what you didn’t expect was him to give you one last order as he spidered his fingers down the ruffled fabric of his shirt. “And pray.” An animalistic snarl came from beyond the mask as his fingers trailed into his boxers this time. The man tugged his cock out and began to stroke himself, chest heaving, his breathing became laboured.

“Oh, god.” You uttered, but the musician didn’t seem to like that. He let go of his cock, allowing it to bounce against his stomach, a stark contrast with his black attire. It looked delicious with the little opalescent bead of precum nestled on the very tip.

“No, my pet,” he purred, his thumb coming to your lips, slipping past them and into your mouth. It tasted of brass and sweat yet you opted to hollow your cheeks around it anyway, “you answer to our savior, satanus here. You are no longer in the house of god.” There was a cruelty behind his voice, corruption on his tongue. You would have thought the theatrics would have instantly had you shoving him away, but instead it left you craving the masked man, mouth salivating at the thought of him completely ruining you.

Without much warning, he tapped his cock on your lips, his precum smudging across your lips, and satanus, was it going to be his death. Your dark smudge of red lipstick would become ruins in the wake, the thought of a red ring around his member had his brain short circuiting, if you didn’t take him in your mouth soon he was going to lose it. Luckily you complied, opening wide to accommodate his size, letting your tongue lap at his tip as he slid in. He started slowly, almost carefully in order not to hurt you but soon enough you pushed his cock to the back of your throat, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hands flew to your hair, desperate to hold onto something, anything, and he tugged you forward, pulling a moan from the very back of your throat. You pulled back, saliva building up in your mouth mixing with the salty taste of his seed.It wasn’t something you expected to like but you found yourself chasing it, craving more.

Your head bobbed over his length, your moans muffled as you tried to take him deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. His delicate resolve broke then and there, slamming into you at a frantic pace. He chased his high, immense pleasure searing through his veins as he fucked into your mouth like an animal, all sense of self control was gone. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him the most innocent look you could muster as you flicked your tongue over his tip, lapping at his slit. Agonisingly you pulled back, employing the aid of your hand around his length, taking only part of him in your mouth. You jacked him off as you hollowed your cheeks around his tip, tongue expertly flicking over his frenulum and eliciting the most pornographic moan from him.

“Satanus, save me.” The man hissed from above you, pulling on your hair to draw you closer. He was losing control, babbling about how pretty you looked on your knees for him. “You are so exquisitely sinful, my pet.” His chest heaved with every breath he took, fingers tangling themselves further into your head of hair, fingernails practically at your scalp.

You take the praise and you run with it, taking it as a signal to keep going, and this time you move your free hand up his leg, rubbing over his thigh as a tease, a preamble to what you were going to do next. You took his groan as a confirmation to continue, his breaths coaxing you to keep going. You slid your hand up, opting to rub his thigh teasingly, savouring the feeling of the looser material under your fingertips, toying with it before you continued your journey up. While your mouth and right hand busied themselves with his thick cock, your left hand came up to fondle his heavy balls. Who knew that praying to a false idol could be so pleasurable.

“Oh, oh, f-fuck.” The taller threw his head back, voice gruff and fucked out, clearly enjoying this more than he should have been. He was rapidly losing any grip on the situation and he needed to extract himself from it unless he wanted to spill into your mouth. It was his nightmare, his most sinful fantasy, having you like this after the show – a stranger, a person in the crowd. The amount of people that would absolutely kill to be in your position and it was likely that you weren’t appreciating it as you should have been. The man keened before tugging you back harshly, his hips stuttering at the sudden loss of contact from your mouth. “If you keep going like that, I’m going to cum down your throat, sweetheart.” There was a certain level of concern laced into his tone, one that you glossed over through your lust.

“Holy shit…” You breathe out, pupils completely blown, the colours of your irises practically disappearing due to how clouded your mind was with him, only him, nothing but him, and how divine his cock was. At your words, something inside him snaps and he grabs your throat, pulling you up. You could feel yourself growing more aroused by the minute. How he had guessed that you’d be into choking was beyond you, but fuck was this doing things to you that you hadn’t even thought possible.

“There is nothing Holy here.” He growled out, a darkness overtaking his voice. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, one that found itself shooting down towards your core, causing you to press to him. The ember glow from behind his goggles scanned over your face, flickering, igniting a fire in the bits of your belly. “Here we succumb to our lust.” He breathes before letting your neck go only to bring his hand down to your chest and massage your breast, pinching gently through the fabric of your tank top. In an instant, his mouth attacked your neck savagely, teeth nipping at the thin skin, tongue flicking over the bites to soothe them. You tilt your head back to accommodate him, your breathy moans coming up right beside his ear as you rut into him. You’re desperate to be fucked at this point, needing him more than you need to breathe.

He pierced your skin with his canines, an animalistic desire for you taking over him. He could no longer think, all consumed by his desires. You felt his lips trail down, soft as a butterfly’s wings, stopping at your jugular vein before he bit down, causing you to let out a yelp. Your cry of pain turned into a pornographic moan as he sucked and lapped at your salty skin, a small sheen of sweat starting to gloss over you as you burned up. If this was what being in hell was like, you’d have a hard time coming up with reasons to wind up in heaven. Your torture didn’t end there; however, as he snaked his free hand up to your cheek, holding you in place tenderly as he continued his assault on your neck. He made it his mission to mark you up as his but you were too far gone to care.

“Oh Christ.” You moaned as he lapped at the bite marks he left, but he didn’t seem to like this. Not that you could see this much, but his eyes turned dark as he trailed his lips farther down, burying his face in the crook of your neck before he bit down hard enough to draw blood. Your pain was immediately covered in a strangled cry of pure ecstasy as he tugged you towards him, his hand on your breast moving to your hip, surely bruising it, fingerprint embedded in the skin of your hip bone.

The taste of iron filled the musician’s mouth, his hard on reacting to your metallic taste, pressing into your hip involuntarily. He couldn’t get enough of you - the intoxicating smell of amber and palo santo mixed with the salt from sweat, and the citrus of the gin… He wanted to ruin you once and for all.

“No, my pet, you are not in the house of God. Only the devil resides here. Will I need to have you pray to me again?” The growl that ripped from his throat has you soaking your lace panties, a choked sob escaping from your parted lips. As he took you in, he noted that you already looked completely fucked out, the bruising on your neck blooming like deep red roses, a symbol of both love and devotion. The only thing you could do was shake your head in answer to him. “Mmm,” the stranger hummed, “your body and blood are mine, sweetheart.” He teased you. As your chest heaved, you examined him, traces of your blood down his chin, and some smeared across his mask, his lips were swollen from the harsh and animalistic kisses he was giving you, and satanus were you ever attracted to him in this moment.

“Please… Can I see you?” You plead, your hands coming to his waist, trailing down slowly, your right hand making contact with his cock. The soft cant of his hips encouraged you to grip it gently, stroking him languidly as you await his answer. “Please…” You repeated, eyes desperately boring into the void behind his goggles.

“Oh, is my little pet desperate to see me?” He cooed out, his fingers skillfully finding your belt, undoing it at a painfully slow pace. It was your turn to buck your hips into him, rolling them into his touch. “Mmm, such a little slut, can’t wait until I get my hands on you, can you?” He teased.

“Satanus, yes, please! Wanna see you.” You groaned, breath catching as he slowly teased you through your jeans. “Need you, need- need- ah!” You cried, throwing your head back once again, eyes fluttering shut from absolute pleasure. It’s then that the man opted to unzip your fly, pausing his animalistic activities to gently tug your jeans over your hips. You weren’t having any of this slow and sweet shit; however, and kicked them off as soon as you got the chance to, allowing him easier access to your sopping cunt. The smell hit him immediately and he moaned, head falling against your forehead, his breathing ragged and strained. His cock reacted, bouncing in your hand and you continued your teasing.

“Then beg me for it, pet. I don’t think you’ve earned the opportunity to unmask me just yet.” His resolve crumbled with every soft touch, every stroke. He pushed into your hand and you took that as a sign to speed your motions before you pushed him back. Confusion was written across his features, that was until you let a healthy glob of spit hit his angry cock. “Oh mother fuck.” The man hissed out, crashing his bloodied lips into your own, allowing the metallic taste of your own blood to permeate your tongue. You reciprocated, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He parted his lips, granting you access, as he swiftly moved your panties to the side, his thick fingers slipping between your weeping folds. It took everything in him to not take you then and there, your pussy sucking his fingers in, tight and wet.

“Please, please, I need to see you.” You sobbed out between kisses, but it was clear that it wasn’t enough. The musician growled at your words, dipping his index into your slick and using it as a lubricant to tease your clit with, it took him a moment but he found the bundle of nerves. The instanthis calloused finger landed on your clit, your vision exploded into stars, mouth practically running on its own, incoherent pleas and various iterations of “more” tumbling from your swollen lips. You were finally giving him something to work with, the pleas, the praises. He continued working your cunt, curling his fingers into the sweet spot deep inside you, warm walls squeezing against him.

“Oh, darling. I’ll give you whatever your sinful heart desires.” He nipped at your bottom lip, splitting it with his canines before he pulled back, panting as he tried to catch his breath, however he refused to remove his hand from your cunt, slowing his movements only a fraction so that he could catch his bearings. “Are you sure?” He asked you, a worry laced in his voice. You nodded fervently, a saccharine look in your eyes peeking through beyond the undeniable lust. Whether you understood he was anxious about what you would think of him or not wasn’t apparent but regardless, you wanted to know who the man you were bound to fuck was.

With a swift move he tugged the mask off, tossing it to the couch behind him and removing his balaclava. What you hadn’t expected was the sight to take your breath away completely. His hair tumbled out of the bun he had it tucked into, and the messy curls cascaded down his shoulders, doe eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you’d ever seen, and his swollen lips? God you couldn’t even think anymore. You immediately kissed them, nipping at his lips, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking, tearing a moan from him, his lust filled eyes expanding even farther as you continued your assault on his lips. You bit down harder this time, cracking his lip. This time the metallic taste belonged to him and you couldn’t help but moan at his taste. You needed more.

“Please, I- I need you…” You panted, eyeing the man with carnal desire.

“Eddie, my name is Eddie.” And with that final confession he grabbed you by the hip and dragged you back to the roomiest surface he could find. It was all teeth, tongue, and the metallic taste of each other’s blood. Your hand on his cock and his fingers still working you open, movements becoming more erratic as he practically drilled into you with his fingers, setting an unrelenting pace that he seemed eager to keep up. Your knees hit the back of a couch, and his arm immediately shot to the small of your back, gently lowering you, a contrast to how he was abusing your needy body. Your hands moved to his hair in preparation for what was to come, yanking at his soft locks, releasing a deep moan from low in his chest. His hair was silky underneath your fingertips, few tangles in the way or your mission.

“Eddie, please.” You whined, flush with desire, unable to think of what you wanted anymore than wanting him. A smirk adorned his lips and he sank his knees onto the soft cushion, knees bracketing your hips perfectly, his hands coming up to frame your face, curls ticking your cheekbones as he did so.

“Open up, sweetheart.” He cooed. Instinctively you parted your lips for him only to feel a glob of his spit fly into your mouth. “Now swallow like the good devil worshipping slut you are.” You obeyed without question, swallowing down his spit with a pornographic moan. As you did, he took a moment to line himself up for you. “God, you look so beautiful, blasphemous doesn’t even begin to cover it, pet.” He praised as he rubs his dick against your soaked entrance, your hips rocking into him, threatening to suck him in. He hissed but slid his hand down your body, tracing your figure with his fingers, teasing in the most tantalising way, once he reaches your ass, he gives it a harsh slap at which you gasp out, choking on your breath, the sting of his hand making contact with your ass radiating a heat you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t expected it in the least but it was welcome nonetheless. “Behave.” He growled out, a darkness seeping into the word.

“P-Please, Eds… I need - I can’t, please.” You babbled, words completely incoherent. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point. His cock? His fingers? Were you asking to be fucked stupid? In all your incoherent ramblings and begging Eddie caught one thing that made his brain fuzzy around the edges. “Corrupt me satanus, corrupt me, please.” Playing into the whole devil worship aspect had him gone, his hips violently snapping into yours, completely disregarding that you might need to adjust to the stretch. Part of him felt bad, but your immediate response was to wrap your legs around his waist, crying his name out as tears brimmed your eyes, mascara beginning to run down your cheeks. To Eddie, you looked absolutely perfect. He leaned in and peppered kisses across your face to wipe away the tears that trickled down.

“S’this what you want, my little pet? You want me to ruin you?” His husky voice was in your ear as he dipped his head lower, his hips rolling into yours slowly. He moved masterfully for someone so scrawny, cock buried to the hilt as he rocked into you. Your mouth fell slack, tightening your legs around his waist and tugging him into you. “Come on, answer me, sweetheart.” He coaxed, pulling out of you slowly before snapping his hips into yours. The pleasure and pain mixed together in a teasing dance, keeping you on the edge and overwhelming your senses all the same. You couldn’t verbally answer and so you turned your head, tucking your face into his neck and kissing up to his ear. About halfway up you landed on a sensitive spot, causing a moan to tumble from his lips, a shiver running down your spine. You latched on like a vampire, sucking over the spot, lapping over it with your tongue to soothe any violent bites you inflicted upon him. In turn he bit into your shoulder, trying to ground himself in reality instead of losing himself to carnal pleasure, the coil in his abdomen tightening evermore. His plan had gone to shit the moment you continued to nibble on his neck, your hands tugging harder at his lock, pulling him further into you. With a slight upward tilt of your hips, Eddie hit a new angle when he snapped his hips into yours, ploughing deeper into you. The both of you moaned in unison before he released a strangled whimper. It was your turn to break skin, your mouth filled with the crimson substance that sustained Eddie’s life. Releasing your lips from the wound, you kissed over his neck and to his shoulder, smearing the fluid across his upper half.

His pace picked up, slamming into you, deeper and deeper, nothing but the sound of breathless lovers, bodies colliding, and the sweet ecstasy of carnal desire flooding the green room. Your hand then came to his back, scratching down it and eliciting a whine from the man above you.

“Please, please, please.” You chanted into his neck. It was as if he understood what you meant, his hand coming down between your joined bodies to rub over the bundle of nerves, little figure eights being drawn over your clit. You were going to lose your mind, and maybe even your soul. Would selling it to the devil be so bad? It didn’t take long after that for a white heat to build, a pressure that you weren’t used to building, the coil tightening, threatening to snap like an elastic band.

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, I’m close.” The man turned his head, kissing up your neck, over your cheek, and found your lips. His kiss was searing hot, burning with need. He chased his release with you, trying to bring you as close to the edge as he could, hoping you might be able to finish at the same time. “Don’t want to finish until you do.” The devil could be generous if he wanted to be.

“S’close.” You panted against his swollen lips, unable to give any coherent answer to him, not that you cared. If laying in sin felt this good, you’d bed the devil any day. “Please, Eds… Don’t stop.” And somehow he kept at it, the same pace, same pressure, same rough and unrelenting fuck that he had been using for the past few minutes. He knew that don’t stop also meant that he shouldn’t change a single fucking thing he was doing, and rightfully so. With a cry, you closed your eyes tight, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you came, the elastic finally snapping, and your release soaking Eddie’s stage uniform.

“Oh- fuck!” The man squeaked, his own release following shortly after. He could have sworn he saw stars in that moment, arms shaking beneath his own weight. His body fully collapsed on top of yours, your arms wrapping around him tightly, kisses tenderly placed on his shoulder. “So perfect f’me.” He mumbled into your sticky skin, reluctantly peeling from you. His brutal and domineering demeanour melted away, replaced by a certain level of care. You could see it behind his eyes clearly. “You okay, sweetheart?” He cooed, brushing your hair from your face, a few strands sticking to your forehead.

“Y-yeah.” You shakily breathe out, your voice hoarse from the activities that had just taken place. As you try to prop yourself up on your shoulders, you wince, a pain shooting through you. “Just sore.” You murmured, suddenly shy under the musician’s gaze. You didn’t dare look at him anymore, a twinge of shame filling your heart.

“Hey, sweetheart, come here.” He mumbled, scooting closer, not daring to pull out just yet. He pulls you up, legs entangled with each other in a pile of limbs, unsure of where one person ended and the other began. He pressed your warm body to his, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, rubbing soothing circles over your back, his gentle voice whispering sweet nothings to you.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You mumbled into his skin, placing a tender kiss over a forming bruise. “That was something else.” He hummed in agreement, allowing his eyes to flutter close for a second, letting himself enjoy a fleeting moment of human contact while he was on tour. While the guys were wonderful and he loved them to death, there was a certain intimacy that he missed in lovers. One that he didn’t indulge in as much these days.

Reluctantly, he pulled out and you pulled away, debating whether to say anything to him, or whether you wanted to indulge in some more pleasantries. If you were any wiser and more observant you’d have noticed the longing in his eyes, his gaze trailing over your figure as you pushed away to gather your belongings. It was odd to say that the musician would have wanted you to stick around for some more aftercare, it would have been even stranger if he admitted to you that he just wanted you to stick around post coitus and have a drink, maybe a smoke, and get to know each other.

“Hey, hang on, let me clean you up.” His voice softened, taking you aback. “Come on, pet, I’m not gonna leave you like this.” He gets up only to tuck himself back into his slick soaked uniform, cringing as he does so. He grabs a water bottle from the nearby table and a small cloth kept on the vanity in the far corner of the room. “Come on, just sit.” He motioned back over to the couch and watched as you hesitantly padded over. You sat down on the cleanest area you could find, squirming as you began to feel Eddie’s cum slipping out of you.

“S’fine, you don’t have to.” You mumbled, turning away from the man. He sighed as he approached you, sinking to his knees before starting to clean your thighs. He worked his way up between your legs, cleaning the leaking spend from your cunt. He placed a few gentle kisses to the tops of your thighs, your eyes flicking over to him as he did so. That was the moment you got a good look at the man. Dark ink littered his skin, barely an inch was pure, untouched, the only areas you couldn’t see his tattoos were the areas in which you had drawn blood, the dried fluid flaking slowly. He continued cleaning you up, rubbing gentle and warm circles with the wet cloth. Part of you couldn’t help but find this incredibly thoughtful, your heart squeezing at the gestures, but the other half of you believed that you were probably just an easy lay.

“Hush, yes I do. It’s the least I can do.” His doe eyes met yours as he looked up at you through his lashes. “I made a mess of you, darling, and I need to clean you up.” His voice was sincere, soft even, and you couldn’t help but melt. You allowed him to tend to your tired limbs, and once he got to your neck, he apologised, knowing that it would probably hurt. You couldn’t help but stare at the softness behind his eyes, the fire that burned within had fizzled out and was replaced by some unnamed emotion. As the towel made contact with your neck, you winced, earning yourself a kiss from the musician. It shocked you that even after the heat of the lustful moment he was still willing to kiss you but you accepted it, melting into his lips. They were soft, a little chapped, but inviting nonetheless.

“Thank you.” You whispered against them, afraid your voice would give out if you spoke any louder. Your hand came up to his face, brushing your thumb over his sharp cheekbone before placing your forehead against his. “You’re sweeter than I anticipated.”

“And you’re kinkier than I anticipated.” He retorted and moved back gently, only to give himself room to fold the towel over to a clean side before cleaning up your face with a gentle hand. “Thank you for indulging me.” He cooed out to you, his sincerity going straight to your heart. You couldn’t help but nod.

“I should go.” Your voice broke, and in that same moment, so did Eddie’s heart. There was something to you that drew him in, that he wanted more of, that he craved. It flew past just the need for human contact, part of it had to do with the way you ran with the punches he threw, you went with the game you played from the stage all the way to the back room. Eddie nodded solemnly, pushing away.

“Yeah, uh…” He bit his lip, tossing the washcloth on the coffee table. Surely worse things had been on that surface in the past, but right now Eddie didn’t care about that, not about what was on that table, what would be in the future, or what he just threw onto it. “You don’t have to, I actually, I don’t know that I want you to. Can I at least buy you a drink?” He asked, standing up straight. You turn around, grabbing your pants so you could slip them back on over your legs.

“You want to buy me a drink?” There’s a hopeful tinge to your voice, head shooting over to look at the musician in question. As you did, you hissed out gently, the garden of blooming roses on your neck blossoming farther across your neck, bite marks adorning your skin like dark tattoos. There was no denying what had gone on.

“Sweetheart, I think we both left a mark on one another,” he teased, “when you pray to the devil so well, I think it’s hard for him to resist.” A twinkle in his eyes told you it was more than just the sex you both had. “Besides, it might help with the pain. What do you say?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed as if you were deep in thought, “only if the devil can treat me right.” You mused. “You going to change first?” You waggled your eyebrows, referring to his squirt-soaked trousers, only to receive a smirk in return. “Oh no sweetheart, I wear my battle scars with pride.” With that, he pushed back to grab his helmet, slipping it back over his head before taking your hand in his and leading you off to the bar. He wasn’t what you expected, none of it was, the show, the music, Eddie, but as you took his hand you couldn’t help the feeling brewing in your chest; the feeling that maybe the unexpected was exactly what you needed.

taglist: @munson-blurbs @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower @word-wytch (if you want) @rip-quizilla @hellfire--cult @mystish

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #musician!eddie #stranger things au #mask kink #ghost bc #sodo ghoul #eddie as sodo #i'm obsessed #eddie munson smut #reader insert #music

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loving-azerath · 23 days

Text

One night Stand

With Captain Price

You were bored.

Bored to tears.

Every day was the same. You woke up at a too early of a time. Your body craving more sleep and a body beside you. You would make your coffee at home, tricking yourself into believing you were saving money doing so. When you knew that you would just buy a coffee later on in the day.

You would work, a shift that bored you to tears just as much. You fucking hated it but it was either this or being homeless and that was simply something you couldn't do.

It was a boring life. You had tried to date. You really gave it all, but with all of the fuck boys that didn't take time to get you ready. The toxic assholes who has made you cry far more times than you would ever admit. You were bored of that too.

You needed something.

It wasn't like you to go to a bar. No, and you weren't stupid. You knew better than to go by yourself. Roping in your best friend. One who had way more experience with the scene. One that you knew you could count on.

She had helped you style everything. Knowing the bar ahead of time and what outfits went with the occasion. She had this down to a science. "Okay now hair down- men like to see how long your hair is. They wanna know if they can pull it" She says, you chuckle taking the clawclip out of your hair and letting it fall around your shoulders. You didn't hate your reflection. It just wasn't what you were used to. Yet that was the point of tonight. To get out of your comfort zone.

So you continued.

She drove you guys to the bar. Since she was going to be showing you how to let lose and keeping you safe in this spot, she didn't plan on drinking. Though she never seemed to need to drink to be the life of any party. She was fun that way.

The bar was busy tonight. Men in uniforms, men in grudge looking pieces, men dressed like they belonged at a frat. Various different kinds though none seemed to catch your own attention.

Well- that was a lie. You were more attracted to the frat guys. It was part of the reason every fucking interaction with any man had been so disappointing. You knew that. You were attracted to the assholes who only wanted a place to put their dick in. So you pretended not to be interested. Letting your friend drag you to the bar and ordering you the first drink of the night. A tequila shot.

"You look tense- this will help. Don't drink too much tonight. If you do meet a guy that you wanna fuck you wanna make sure you aren't too drunk for it to be skivvy" She says, you chuckle, rolling your eyes but mentally noting her comment.

"Are any of these guys regulars?" You ask her, she looks around shaking her head.

"No- but fuck do I see someone I wanna make a regular" She says practically drooling. You follow her eyeline. Watching it land on a group. You couldn't tell who she was looking at. There were four of them. Sitting around a table with a pint of beer in front of them half empty. It was where you could tell the smell of tobacco was coming from. As one of them had a cigarette between his gloved fingers, a mask pulled up above his nose. Then another in a black beanie and black weather jacket. a cigar resting in his hand.

The other two weren't smoking, chuckling between themselves. you watch as one stands up, dark skin and short coiled hair. He backs up from the table heading to the bar. She follows him with her eyes. So he was who she wanted. He leans against the counter, putting a signal up to the bartender who seems to understand exactly what he wants.

"You're new around here" Your friend says to him, he looks at her smiling slightly before nodding.

"I am. You notice every bloke that comes into a place like this?" He asks, her eyes seem to widen.

"Fuck and your british. Fuck me up" She says, he chuckles

"Get that a lot round here." He admits "Though it's from no one who looks like you darlin"

She smiles at him, looking up at him through lashes with a look you have seen her give a thousand times. She extends her hand.

"I'm Vivian" She introduces herself, he takes it.

"You can call me Gaz" He replies back

It was like you were watching a movie you wanted to insert yourself in so badly. Not that you could. You just watched, knocking back another shot before looking around the room for anyone. Anyone who might have their eyes on you. There weren't lack of them either. Just none you wanted to waste a night with.

"I send you over here to get a drink and you find a friend" A gruff also british voice says, You look making eye contact with the man in the beanie. Your stomach flops. He's older, gruff looking, hot for no reason at all.

"Sorry Cap, I am a sucker for a pretty little thing with blue eyes" He says looking back to Vivian.

"Cap? You guys military?" You ask, you don't know why you do. You knew the answer. You just wanted him to talk to you. He nods at you, once again meeting your eye.

"Affirmative. Just here for the weekend." He answers

"Pleasure or business" You ask

"Business. Finished now" He tells you "You ladies from here? Or is it a holiday?"

"From here." You say, it seemed like such trivial conversation though the eye contact made your stomach move in ways you haven't felt from previous interacts with men before.

You don't know how it happened throughout the night. When they invited you to join them, when you were watching Vivian make heart eyes at every man at that table though her attention remained mainly on Gaz. You learned the others names. Soap, the only Scottish man at the table. His mohawk needing to be touched up a bit but he was good looking. And Ghost. The silent one who had uttered maybe five words the entire time. It wasn't until midnight when you realized how much time had flown by. Small flirtations towards Captain who you now knew as John.

Vivian and Gaz left to fuck in the bathroom at around 1 am. Soap making out with a random chick against a wall which left Ghost and Price. Ghost being the watch dog you observed. Keeping an eye on the door.

A glass was dropped, shattering and you notice both men reach for their hip. The outline of a holstered weapon grabbing your attention. It made your thighs squeeze together and you almost mentally kick yourself for it.

"Just a glass" Ghost says, John nods putting his hand back on his lap, his finger tapping against it.

"You don't seem like this is what you fancy a night out, darlin" John says, you look up at him. Shrugging.

"It's not- I needed something different. Sick of the same thing. Sick of the same...men" You say, he nods clicking his tongue

"What type of men would that be?" He asks leaning towards you slightly. You swallow hard.

"Men who just want something to stick their dick in for the night. Not that I don't like a good one night stand but fuck at least try to let me enjoy myself" You say, it could be the tequila. You wanna blame it on the tequila.

He chuckles

"What makes you think I'm not just like them?" He asks, you chew on the inside of your cheek.

"Are you?" You ask tilting your head to the side. He smirks, chuckling slightly.

"Wanna find out?" He asks

Yes. Yes you fucking did.

So that might be how it happened. How you ended up agreeing to let him take you back to your place. How you didn't end up half way through the door before his hands were on you. His lips were on you. His didn't kiss like the men you were used to. He was hungry but he knew what he was doing. His hands were rough and calloused but fuck did they feel good grabbing at you. Holding you against him. Pinning you against the closest wall. Your arms wrapping around his neck as he trails hot kisses from your lips to your jawline. To your collar bone, then teasing at the hem of your dress's bodice.

"Which way is your bedroom, sweetheart?" He whispers against your neck as he goes back up. You whimper at the feeling. Fuck did he know what he was doing. You pointed to the direction. Grabbing his hanging dog tags around his neck.

"Let me show you" You whispered

So you did, almost dragging him by the tags if he hadn't been following so close behind you. As soon as you closed the bedroom door he was on you again. Grabbing your face with his two hands and walking you back to your bed until your knees hit the edge. Falling back on it. Though he doesn't fall with you. No, this man just bends over with a practiced ease that flooded you. Pulling you by your legs further down slightly to angle you where he wanted. Lifting your skirt.

"If you need me to stop-" he kisses your thigh "If I do something wrong" He loops his fingers around the hem of your panties "Tell me and I'll stop"

He pulls them off. He didn't give you time to reply before he latched himself onto your clit. Pulling a noise from you that you didn't recognize.

"That's it pretty girl, let me hear you" He mumbles against you. He laps you up like this man hasn't eaten in days. You were gripping the sheets around you and staring down at him as he devours your cunt. Panting through pleasure you haven't had before. His grip on your thighs to hold them open was almost a bruising pressure but you didn't seem to mind this time.

"Fuck- John" You gasp your head tilting back

"Mhm- that's right love say my name. Tell me how good I'm making you feel. One of his hands leaves your thigh, teasing your entrance and even that was sending you close to the edge.

"Fuck- yes right there. John fuck-please it feels so fucking good" You say so lewdly you don't even know if it's your voice anymore. He listens, letting his finger slide in and pumping in and out of you until you are spasming around his finger. Your eyes rolling back as curses and his name fall from your lips.

You were still panting, but he doesn't waste time. Unbuckling his pants and lifting your legs onto his shoulders. Almost bending you in half, pressing your knees against your chest. He doesn't put it in yet. Just slides himself through your folds. Wetting his length. You buck your hips trying to guide him into you but he just tsks at you.

"Gotta go slow for this part darlin, don't wanna hurt you" He says, you don't get it. Not until the tip hits your entrance and you realize. This man is fucking huge.

"Oh my go-" You don't finish as it turns into a whine as he pushes through. Slowly but every inch is sending you further into the stars. He backs out a couple of times starting again and it has you panting under him.

"Good girl- just breathe. Almost there" He tells you, he finally sinks fully into you. Groaning at the feeling of your wet walls clenching around him. Accustoming to his size. The first thrust has you literally seeing stars and the gasp that comes out of you almost has him in a chokehold.

He pace is brutal, but fuck does it feel good. The air around you filled with the sounds of your bodies slapping together and how wet you are made it sound so fucking pornographic you were in awe that this was you. Making a sticky fucking mess of his cock.

"You are so god damn wet- so fucking tight. This what you needed baby? To be fucked properly?" He asks you just nod because you are so fucked dumb what are words anyway.

Every thrust left you gripping for sheets, for heaven, for him. Finding his dog tags again and yanking it down. He groans deeply moving a hand to your throat. He doesn't squeeze and for a moment you were kind of afraid. Though it subsided almost as soon as you saw the absolute pleasure written on his face. The subtle pressure on the sides of your neck makes you dizzy but in the best way.

He was slamming against you, the combination of your moans together was filling your ears and imprinting itself in your brain. The same way he was imprinting his cock into your walls.

"Fucking hell...you're taking it so fucking well for me baby" He says, you almost lose your fucking mind. It was the most back arching, sheet gripping, mind blowing sex you had ever had and you weren't sure you would recover from it.

You couldn't even tell how much time was passing. Just that every second, every minute felt like you were floating. Like you were made for nothing but this and you didn't want to be anything else.

He slows, letting your legs down and massaging your aching hips for a moment before moving you. Manhandling you to bend over the bend. Your back arched so prettily for him over your bed. He presses your face into the mattress by holding you by the neck. Re-aligning himself. Pushing in was easier this time but you felt everything so much more. He doesn't begin right away grabbing your wrist with his free hand and moving it under you. Tapping you soaking clit with his fingers.

"Come on, tight little circles for me. Be good for me. I wanna feel you cum on this fat fucking dick" He says, you listen because you wanted it to.

His thrusts were just as unforgiving in this position. Though he was hitting your spots just right from it. Forcing you to climb a lot faster than you thought you could like this. He could feel it. He growled and moaned as he could feel you slowly tightening around him. Slowly losing your breath and your moans turning into something far more feral.

"Fuck- fuck oh my fucking god John. I'm going to fucking cum please please don't fucking stop" You didn't know who was talking, you didn't recognize the words or your voice but it was you. It was the bitch in heat he was turning you into. His hand leaves your neck moving to the base of your scalp where he pulls you off the bed and against his chest. Your hand still working those tight little circles sending waves of goosebump causing pleasure. A tight arm wrapping around you to keep you in place and release some pressure from your hair. His fingers spread across your abdomen and the size of his hand was enough to fuck you up.

It sent you. Off the cliff that seemed to only be safe because of his hand wrapped around you. You shook against him, eyes rolling back so hard you thought they would live there. Practically screaming his name as your hand comes down to his hips, digging your nails into his skin.

He growls but its not in anger. He's close. Proof in his stuttering hips and more panty type groans.

Finally he cums, filling you so full that you could feel the pressure of it. Both taking a moment as he pants through his orgasm and you pant through coming down from yours. He pulls out of you and you can feel him leak down your thighs and normally it would annoy you. But this time you thought it was the hottest fucking thing.

He stays the night. Though he isn't there by the time you wake up. A notecard with his phone number on your nightstand. You smirk down at it and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You now found a new craving. Not only for him. But for older men. For larger men. For men that knew what they were doing. He had ruined you. Ruined you for those shitty frat boys and toxic assholes. And you were so fucking okay with that.

#i need it #i need to be sedated #ill make price a daddy for real dont play with me #captain price #john price #price x reader #price #141 #cod fic #cod ffn #captain john price smut #captain johnathan price

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snnrinc · 28 days

Text

Codename: ROOK

Ch. 2 - Playing With Fire [AO3 Portal]

Ch. 1 - AO3 / Tumblr

— PAIRING : Hawks/Keigo Takami x Reader x Dabi/Touya Todoroki

— WARNINGS : (check Ch. 1 for all the warnings) Crime Scene, Blood and Violence, Groping

Standing outside of a shady bar filled with drunk people, cigarette smoke and the smell of sweat in the middle of the night was not exactly how one would envision the start of a nice, enjoyable work shift. In fact, it was not a nice, enjoyable start to anything.

You looked up at the sign hanging above the door and swinging along in the night wind, the chill of the air making you clutch your jacket even closer to your body. Your skin was covered in goosebumps, but you were unsure whether they were caused by the low temperature or your anxiety from being in such a place alone at night. You trusted that Hawks wouldn't get you killed so recklessly by sending you to this location, but nothing in the world could've possibly comforted you when you knew that the only thing standing between you and meeting Dabi face to face was the rusty door of a seedy bar.

Despite your nerves, you willed yourself to open the door and step inside, immediately grabbing the attention of several patrons who stopped their chatting and drinking in favour of watching you make your way down to the bar and taking a seat at one of the stools. You tried to seem as nonchalant as possible while looking around, scanning the environment for your target, but a new face was ought to bring suspicion no matter how well you blended in with the regulars. You ordered a drink more so for appearances, but still carefully took a sip or two so it wouldn't be obvious you had ulterior motives to be there. After all, you knew people from around these parts didn't take kindly to undercover cops slithering their way into their territory.

You turned your body to the side, crossing your legs and casually leaning your elbow on the bar, holding your glass to your lips so it would seem like you're sipping. You now had a better angle to search the faces and appearances of the other customers. You didn't notice anything out of the ordinary for a few minutes, and just as you were getting ready to stand up and go to the bathroom so you could approach more tables and booths—and to avoid getting approached by random people—the door creaked open once again.

You were thankful you weren't drinking when you saw Dabi walk in, lest you would've choked on the liquid. His hands were stuck in his pockets, the collar of his leather coat raised. His mere presence was unsettling, enhanced by his scars and myriad of piercings adorning his face. You noticed a few patrons avert their eyes or simply ignore him, but you continued to stare. As if sensing your insistent gaze, his eyes shifted to you, icy blue, electric, and you resisted the urge to turn away. Instead, you arched your back to accentuate your body, tilting your head and giving him the most seductive smile you could muster, silently attempting to convince him to approach you. His eyes lingered on you for a second longer before he walked further in the building and joined the masses.

You panicked for a second. Had he recognised you? You had run-ins with him before but surely being outside of your work uniform and usual patrol areas was enough to conceal your identity. After all, you never managed to even get close to capturing him and you were certainly not the only officer he'd had to deal with.

You thought perhaps he was just not interested in flirting with a random person, but even so you couldn't let him slip through your fingers. You watched as he approached a table and quickly turned back around to the bartender, ordering two new drinks. Having a peace offering would probably prove to be helpful in breaking the ice.

When you stood up and turned to start towards Dabi, your worry only increased as you noticed he was absent. You walked to where you last saw him but to no avail, looking around almost frantically in search of him until your eyes landed on the back door of the building. You quickly set the glasses down on an empty table and walked to the door, carefully opening it and looking down the back alley. You stepped out and finally spotted him leaning against a wall smoking.

Resuming your flirty demeanour, you walked over to him and noticed how his eyes shifted to you, yet he didn't bother to make a move to acknowledge your presence.

“Hey handsome, got any more smokes?” You pouted. “I forgot mine home.”

“I don't have any.”

You stopped your eyebrow from twitching at his immediate rejection and instead took a step closer in front of him, almost breaching his personal space.

“What do you mean?” you asked, feigning innocence. “You've got one right there.”

He followed where you were pointing at and saw his lit cigarette. He huffed.

“Your eyes ain't working? I'm already smoking this one.”

“Well, I'm sure we can find some way to share,” you said sweetly, taking one final step to close the small gap between the two of you.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as your lips hovered mere inches from his, afraid he'll push you away, or worse. You could smell the smoke on his breath and to your surprise he didn't make any attempt to put distance between you two again. He was waiting to see just how far you'd go before you backed out, not giving you the satisfaction of succumbing to your game. You mentally cursed the situation you were in, but kept up the mask and pushed yourself into him, placing your hand on the wall behind him and finally pressing your lips together.

You gave him a closed mouth kiss for a few seconds until he seemingly got bored of your technique, his free hand coming up to hold the back of your head and tilt it for better access. You felt his tongue across your bottom lip and you instinctively opened your mouth, to which he responded by deepening the kiss. It was sloppy, the taste of tobacco still heavy on his tongue as it languidly toyed with yours, the contrast between his rough, scarred bottom lip and his soft upper one leaving you almost dizzy as you tried to keep up with him and reciprocate. Besides his natural musky scent, you noted the smell of soot invading your nostrils, but also of a gasoline-like chemical you couldn't quite place. Your hands moved from pressing against the wall on either side of him to sliding to his shoulders, holding onto his leather coat like you were fighting to hold onto your last string of concentration, breathless from how insistent he was with tasting you and not giving you a moment of respite.

Suddenly, he gripped your arms and moved you to the side, pushing you against the wall and holding your hands behind your back. You hissed in pain as your cheek scraped on the brick wall, struggling to break free from his iron grip.

“Hey! What the hell are you-”

“Don't fucking move,” he spoke next to your ear. His low, raspy voice made you shiver. “Who sent you?” “No one, I'm just here to have some fun!” you quickly answered and mentally cursed the way your voice broke.

“No one, huh?” he scoffed. “Got any weapons?”

“Of course not!”

“Then you won't mind if I check for myself,” he stated. “Don't try anything stupid or I'll turn you into ashes.” He gave you enough space to push yourself off the wall a bit, but you still remained stuck in your position against it as he propped his cigarette between his lips and kneeled down behind you. His hands circled one of your ankles and dipped under the edge of your boots to check for any hidden weapons, then slowly moved upwards on your leg, one of them squeezing the flesh of your inner thigh, the other feeling your front pocket before he switched to your other leg. He repeated his motions, only this time his hands slowed down as they were ascending, making you dig your nails into your palm.

You gritted your teeth as he stood up and firmly placed his hands on your ass, feeling you up and giving you a tentative squeeze before his hands moved to your hips and pulled you closer, flush against his body. You felt his breath fan over the nape of your neck, sending goosebumps on your skin, and you swallowed the lump in your throat, his hands moving from your hips to your stomach, slowly trailing upwards.

In a panic, you swiftly pushed his wandering hands off of you and stumbled away a few steps, finally facing him. You were met with a cocky smile as he dug his free hand into his pocket, the other coming up to grab the cigarette again. He looked like he was enjoying himself.

“That's enough,” you snapped. “You already know I have no weapons on me.”

Dabi tilted his head to the side and looked you up and down.

“I still don't know. Maybe if you strip for me I'll know for sure.”

“I have no intention of doing that,” you bit back and immediately regretted your tone. Your plan fell through faster than you had anticipated and you were only digging your grave further.

Dabi raised an eyebrow, drawling out a bored, “Really? I thought you said you're here to have some fun. You didn't seem to mind having my tongue in your mouth a second ago.” He slowly began walking towards you as you held your ground, willing yourself to not back away from him. Unfazed by your defiance, he brought his cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply before he stopped right in front of you, the smoke from his lungs pouring out on his breath and fanning your face with each word he spoke.

“You're not here to drink, you're not here to fuck, you don't seem like you're here to fight either. So what are you here for? Just a random death wish?”

“I'm here to talk business,” you said, gazing at him with determination.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.

“I have valuable information for you, but it doesn't come cheap.”

“How 'bout I just kill you instead?”

“You'd kill a reliable informant.”

“Reliable,” he scoffed, then began laughing at you. “I ain't stupid, doll. You think I'd forget that pretty face?” Your eyes widened and you straightened yourself, trying to put some safe distance between the two of you, unnerved by his words. Suddenly his free hand shot up and grabbed your wrist before you could move away, fingers clutching you almost painfully.

“You and your fellow officers have been nothing but a bunch of fucking thorns in my side. I should've killed you all long ago. Why should I even trust you now?” Your nails dug into his wrist, trying to loosen his grip on you so you could pull away, but he was too strong. You glared at him, angry at how your entire plan of approaching him and gaining his trust crumbled in just a few moments of being in his proximity. You were fearing for your life, knowing that his temper was just as volatile as the flames he had an unusual obsession with.

“I'm putting myself on the line to help you here!” you said. “I want to join you!”

“You're just a spy sent by the big guys, aren't you?”

“I'm not, I swear!”

“You swear?” he pulled you closer to him, his other hand grabbing your waist and for a moment you were painfully aware of his still lit cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers behind your back. “You're playing with fire, sweetheart. One more lie and you'll go up in flames like the sun.”

“I'm not lying, back off!”

With one strong push, he finally let go of you, your force causing you to stumble back while he maintained his position. You looked up at him, eyes ablaze with fury and a speck of panic, as you rubbed your sore wrist.

“I hate the Commission and everyone working for them!” you sneered. “Believe what you want, but you know just as well as I do how useful it would be to have a law enforcer back you up.”

“What the hell could an officer do? Give parking tickets to other cops as a distraction?”

“I could be a fly on the wall. No one would care to investigate someone if they don't stand out.”

He raised his cigarette to his lips again, drawing in a breath then exhaling it, the light at the end of the alley behind him filtering through the smoke. He was quiet for a moment, almost as if assessing your worth. You didn't know what to expect from him, but based on the precious little you knew about Dabi, half of you thought you'd be killed soon. However, much to your relief—at least temporarily—Dabi spoke again.

“You got any dirt on the big names of the Commission?”

Hook.

“You bet your ass I do. Name the name and I'll bring a file on them next time we meet.”

Line.

“This will be our usual meeting spot then, at least for now. Don't even think about chirping if you care about your life.”

Sinker.

You couldn't help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth, pride and relief flooding your veins at last. Equipping you with the task of bringing back information on a few big-shots of the Commission, Dabi soon turned around and left you to gather yourself in the dark alley. Perhaps the mission wasn't doomed after all, but even with the positive outcome, something about Dabi left an unsettling feeling in your gut. You hoped the next time you met would be less hostile, although you knew it was just wishful thinking.

You dug your hands in the pockets of your coat to stave off the chill of the morning air as you approached Hawks, a coffee already in his hand. He had called you to join him at a crime scene just an hour prior, and you made haste to arrive.

The scene that greeted you was bleak, yellow police tape encircling the crime scene where several forensic experts were gathering evidence. The grey skies only added to the sombre atmosphere, but you were thankful it wasn't raining, lest the evidence be washed away.

When Hawks saw you approaching, he gave you a smile, his stance relaxed with one hand in his trousers and his signature shearling jacket draped over his shoulders. His friendly, care-free demeanour contrasted the crime scene backdrop in a way that made him seem out of place, but still managing to soothe your nerves.

“Morning! Sleep well?”

You were greeted by the memory of the past night, your conversation with Dabi, the anxiety, the kiss. You shook your head. “I've had better nights.”

“I can imagine,” he sighed. “I would've brought you a coffee but I'm not sure what you like.”

You waved off his comment and turned your attention to the crime scene, the more grim parts of it obscured by the forensic specialists examining the location. Being one of the lowest ranks in the force, you had never been this involved in a crime scene. Part of you was intrigued, but even that couldn't soothe the emptiness that settled in your stomach.

Hawks walked with you towards the yellow tape, explaining to you that the victim was the missing civilian you had seen on TV the other day. Unlike the agent's body, this one was still in one piece, despite the multiple stab wounds, which were also the cause of death. You listened carefully to what Hawks was telling you and suggested that if this victim was also a target for the League, the modus operandi was far too varied to pinpoint to a single person. Hawks nodded in thought. It made sense the League would operate as a group, after all, it made it easier to hide evidence that could tie them to the crime.

“The body is too close to the road.”

You blinked, looking at Hawks with a puzzled expression. He nodded to himself again and took a swig of his coffee.

“It can't be the League. The body is too close to the road where people pass,” he concluded, moving his hand in the general direction of the scene. “Sure, it's hidden in a bush near some trees, but if the League doesn't want a person to be found, they make sure they aren't. And if they wanted to send a message they would place the body in an even more public area.”

“So… what? You think some random criminal did this?” you asked.

“We can't know for sure, but it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume some killers would use the high activity level of the League in this area as a cover-up. Let's ask what else they found,” he said, then took a few more steps towards the yellow tape. “Hey, Aizawa!”

A person perked up as Hawks called out, standing up from where he was examining the evidence left around the body. Aizawa began approaching Hawks, taking off his gloves and placing them in his pocket. He pulled down his mask and the hood of his suit, revealing his hair neatly tied in a bun to prevent contaminating the scene. You saw him frown at Hawks, tired eyes fixated on him.

“Stop yelling, I'm not deaf yet,” Aizawa said as you made your way over to the two of them.

“My bad, had to grab your attention somehow. You seemed engrossed with what you were doing,” Hawks said, offering a friendly smile. “Got anything for us?”

“The estimated time of death is sometime around eleven P.M.” Aizawa crossed his arms over his chest. “Weird thing is, despite the stab wounds being the cause of death, the body was doused in naphtha. It's almost as if they left the job unfinished.”

“What sort of liquid is that?” you asked.

“It's a solvent used for thinning pain or as fuel for campfires,” Aizawa responded. “Kind of like gasoline, highly flammable. It's been found in other fire incidents around Musutafu, but we can't know for sure if they are related.”

A chill ran down your spine, memories of the night prior flashing before your eyes. The heat of Dabi against you and his musky scent, blending with the smell of soot and a gasoline-like chemical you couldn't quite place. Naphtha.

You excused yourself to Aizawa and pulled Hawks to the side, leaning close to his ear.

“I think I know who the killer is.”

“What?” he whisper-yelled back and moved to look at you. You clicked your tongue and pulled him back in so others couldn't hear.

“Think about it, who in the League has a tendency to light things on fire?”

“Yeah, emphasis on fire, not stabbing,” he retorted. “If Dabi was the one who did it, we wouldn't even have a body. We'd have a pile of ashes, at most.” “Unless he had to be somewhere else,” you argued. “He knew who I was, he knew why I was there.” Hawks was quiet for a long second, then straightened himself, looking at you with a seriousness you hadn't seen from him until then. His eyes looked sharper when he wasn't smiling.

“I think you shouldn't jump to conclusions so fast,” he said, leaving no room for discussion. “Don't forget he's our only chance to get into the League. If he hears you've ratted him out, you'll lose the already small amount of trust you've gained from him. Take advantage while you can.”

Before you could respond, Hawks turned on his heels and walked back to where Aizawa was to continue his discussion with him. Frustrated, you glared at his back as he walked further away. As much as you hated to admit, he was right, you already knew what you had to endure to get Dabi to even talk to you, let alone trust you. You couldn't let it all collapse from an impulsive decision when the stakes were far higher. Besides, you were bound to Hawks's orders, seeing as he was your superior and the lead investigator of your dangerous mission, at least if you cared about getting out of it alive.

You sighed in defeat and tilted your head back, watching the gunmetal clouds drift by through the leafless tree canopy for a few seconds before you decided to join Hawks once again for the investigation. You realised with a heavy heart your days would be just as shitty as your nights from here on out.

#bnha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #hawks x reader x dabi

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opalspring · 6 months

Text

Some observations and color-coding in Cat

Here are some thoughts/observations about Cat, though especially about the color-coding.

The car and walking scenes

In Cat, the car scene has some interesting details about Kazui and Hinako’s relationship in my opinion.

Hinako is shown to be the one initially interested in Kazui, who notices this:

And then we get this frame, with Kazui looking to his left while turning the wheel with a seductive face. At first glance, it looks like he noticed Hinako’s affection for him and is implied to reciprocate. The thing is though, with the composition in the scene only showing Kazui and Hinako separately, we can’t be sure he’s looking at her specifically here: it’s left ambiguous (propably on purpose).

I’ll go in detail about this later, but basically I think that at that point in time, Kazui was already planning to use Hinako’s feelings for him to get closer to a certain someone.

Then we get to the walking scene. There’s one frame in particular there that I feel gives a lot of interesting context to Kazui’s story:

To discuss it further, we need to talk about color-coding in Cat. There are three colors in particular that are important in the mv: blue, magenta and yellow.

I think the colors are each supposed to represent either a person, or a concept. One association we can easily make to start is Kazui and blue.

It’s used in the beginning sequence when only he is on screen, and is a very similar shade of blue as the one on his prisoner uniform’s straps.

(I should have picked a better pic but I mean specifically the straps and not the other blue like the one for 007)

There’s another scene that also seemingly ties Kazui with blue:

This frame seems to cement Kazui’s association with blue. Additionally, it’s probably safe to say Hinako’s color is magenta with that logic.

And what about yellow? Well, for that color we have to do a little more digging. But one thing is for certain, it’s as important as Kazui’s blue and Hinako’s magenta.

The reason for that is these two shots:

Using Kazui and Hinako’s colors for this sequence makes sense, but why is yellow mingled in as well? This part alludes to how Kazui is potentially using Hinako’s feelings, so what is the yellow doing there too?

That’s the part where we can begin to guess who yellow refers to. It’s possible Kazui had a third person in mind when marrying Hinako. Specifically, someone he would be able to see more if he and Hinako were married.

This goes into conjecture territory, but the only character from Kazui’s story that could fit this role in my opinion is his childhood friend/the bartender, who he talks about a lot in his interrogation questions.

Kazui and the bartender/ childhood friend

(From now on, I’ll assume yellow refers to the childhood friend for this theory and refer to him as CF)

There are more parts in the mv that allude to the link between Kazui, Hinako and maybe-the bartender, like this shot:

What’s interesting here, aside from the color combination, is how despite Hinako’s color being present, the colors forming the 01 and taking up most of the space are Kazui’s and the CF’s.

This coupled with the lyrics on screen at that moment, we can assume Kazui’s dream refers to being close with the CF.

Another detail regarding are the French lyrics that overlap with the yellow 1. They translate to that part from the lyrics:

All those things I wanna do that I can’t say out loud

I gotta keep it inside and act

The beating of this heart… see… it’s no longer about good and bad… it isn’t

I realize the futility, but I still can’t help but dream

So maybe these words were meant to be directed at the CF.

There are other moments in the mv where blue and yellow get mingled together, and when we couple them with the corresponding lyrics on screen, we get combinations like this:

Here, his feelings he ignored regarding the CF (blue and yellow are mixed together). We also get a hint that Hinako and the CF are linked together somehow with the magenta mixing with the yellow.

We haven’t mentioned lime before but maybe it could be a representation of Kazui’s love for men, or men in general? “I just wanted to touch (a man)”

Interestingly, the combination of Kazui’s blue with lime gets us the same green color as Kazui’s blue + the CF’s yellow. We’ll talk about this in a later section.

Here, Kazui knows the CF is out of his league, both because they’re both married to different people, and since the CF is most likely straight (from the lyrics “If only your heart would change, but that’s not possible” from half).

Here Hinako realizes her relationship to Kazui was a lie, and that he was potentially only interested in her because of her link to the CF (maybe they’re siblings or something similar).

And in the following scene, after Hinako dies, only Kazui and the CF are left in the equation.

Now we can go back to that frame that was mentioned earlier. We theorized on which color refers to which character, and it puts some things in perspective.

On the right part of the frame, Kazui is standing on the blue stripe, representing him, so nothing too special.

Similarly, Hinako is placed around the magenta one, herself. And although the framing stops us from looking further on the right, the yellow stripe hints that a third person is actually standing there: the bartender/childhood friend in this theory.

This puts the rest of this sequence in a whole new light. After all, if Kazui is proposing to Hinako, why isn’t he facing her in the frame before? That may be because it’s actually the CF he’s looking at.

This could explain the magic trick: the bouquet changes into a ring for a reason. If the intent was to “just” propose to Hinako, what’s the need for the bouquet and the trick animation?

From my interpretation, the bouquet is actually meant for the CF, and the ring Kazui gives Hinako could be an excuse to get closer to the CF if he and Hinako really have a link (like being siblings or something).

Color inversion

There’s a frame at the beginning of the mv that comes by so quick you have to put the video on 0.25% speed to take a screenshot of it, this one:

Since it appears at the mv’s beginning, I think this frame is meant to give us some clues regarding the mv in general.

We see color combinations (red and blue) like in the rest of the video but what’s interesting here in my opinion is the white circle on the right: it shows us a different color combination by inverting the colors.

So I think this is a guideline for the viewers to apply through the mv: invert the colors to discover hidden details.

One thing we can note is is that: red=cyan and blue (Kazui)= orange

Remember the lime color and how it could represent Kazui’s love for men? Let’s try to invert the colors and see how it compares to the combination of yellow and blue, romantic in Kazui’s mind:

These two combinations result in the same (or very similar) shades of pink, so maybe pink refers to romantic love in the mv.

Going back to the red+blue=pink combo we saw earlier, this makes me think that red/cyan might represent Kazui’s homosexuality/love for men as a whole (since red + blue (Kazui) = pink (romantic love)).

Also, another thing regarding this frame and the “Kazui was using Hinako from the beginning” theory: at the moment Kazui notices Hinako’s crush on him, we can see that his “thoughts” on the left go from:

lime (love for men (?)) + blue (Kazui) = green (or pink=love, see pic above) to:

magenta (Hinako), with lime (love for men (?)) and yellow (CF), but barely mingled in

This is what made me think Kazui got the idea of marrying Hinako, but with an ulterior motive (getting closer to the CF, who may be Hinako’s sibling or acquaintance). Who knows though.

Here, was the bouquet actually meant for cyan= a man? (if we assume red= desire for men/homosexuality)

Remember how green/purple represent the bartender/CF in this theory? Here it could show Kazui’s married life with Hinako… but how he’s secretly dreaming of the same life, but with his childhood friend.

This one in particular is really interesting because it could be a confirmation that the apple is meant to represent the CF. The red/cyan apples could represent men in general, with the CF getting a special place as a green/purple apple. So it puts the entirety of half in a new context:

…

…….I see what you did there, M. Mukuhara

“Sorry Hinako, but I actually like *the bartender*” ? No, that’s probably not how Kazui said it and he probably came out by saying he’s gay, but the reason that made him come out was the CF (maybe)…

Pretty sure Kazui and the bartender/CF had an “adventure” of some sorts here

There are probably a lot more I missed, but it’s interesting how the staff (maybe) created a link between both mvs.

Thanks for reading!

#this theory has been in the works for a while but I couldn't figure out what the difference between lime and yellow was #still not sure about it honestly but #Kazui is interesting to analyze for sure #milgram #milgram theory #kazui mukuhara

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starrconch · 3 years

Text

INTERRUPTED WHILE MAKING OUT

★ Includes: Diluc, Childe / Tartaglia, GN reader, suggestive content

★ Word Count: 888

★ Master List

DILUC

★ He had been watching you for his whole shift. The way that your bartending uniform clung to your body in the perfect places, giving him the room to imagine what was underneath, it was driving him insane.

★ You had offered to help at the Angel’s Share that night as the Dawn Winery was releasing a new wine to be sold, so the expectations for customers to turn up were very high.

And you were right, of course. You and Diluc hadn’t had a chance to speak to each other barely all night with how busy you were. So, when Charles had left and the tavern was empty, your partner couldn’t help but bury his face into your neck as you cleaned some tables.

“Oh?” You sounded in surprise at his close presence, feeling his arms wrap around your waist. “It’s been a long night, hasn’t it?”

He murmured a response of agreement as he pressed himself closer and began to kiss up your neck until he reached your chin. The gentle touches of his lips quickly turned passionate as he met your own, hungry for something he had been waiting for all evening.

You gasped, pulling back for air. “Woah, what’s gotten into you tonight?” You chuckled. Usually, you were the first to initiate the contact between the two of you as he was a little shy with it. This was a surprise.

“I’ve been waiting impatiently for you, my love.” He pushed you backwards until you sat on the table you had just cleaned, parting your legs with his own. Tipping your chin up so your eyes could look nowhere but his own, he whispered into your mouth, “I can’t any longer.”

Just as a whimper escaped from your lips and he was about to kiss you once more, the door to the Angel’s Share flung open, jolting the two of you apart.

“Sorry, I just forgot my house keys and-” Charles froze in place at the scene he had just witnessed between the two of you. At Diluc’s now scarlet face and your smug expression. “And I shall be off again very quickly.”

When you were both alone again, your partner rested his back against the wall with his head in his hands, his confidence completely gone. You got off the table and walked over to him, moving his hands to press a kiss to his lower lip.

“Perhaps we should continue this at home?”

CHILDE / TARTAGLIA

★ Liyue Harbour was bustling with its usual crowd, customers and merchants wandering around, both with their interest in products being sold. This made it quite difficult to spy the ginger-haired harbinger that you were supposed to be meeting up with before he left back to Snezhnaya for the next few months.

★ You hated to see him go, but you knew that he had work to attend to and a family to return to as well. He had made this clear to you when you had first gotten into a relationship with him.

★ Just as you were wondering where he had gotten to, an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into an alleyway.

A hand clamped over your mouth, restricting the cry that was about to leave it. When you got a look at your captor, you realised it was none other than your partner.

Releasing his hand, he held up a finger to his mouth. “I can’t be too long, I’m already late as it is.” Regret surfaced in his eyes along with a hint of something else. He didn’t want to leave and there was a desire to stay with you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. “That’s alright. I’m going to miss-”

Before you could continue, Childe’s lips were pressed to yours with a hungry longing. He pulled your body closer to his, delving his fingers into your hair.

“Childe,” you gasped in surprise between your lips releasing and crashing back together again.

This only provoked him further. He edged his tongue to the entrance of your lips to claim you completely, and hoisted your leg up by the knee so he could lean himself even more into your presence.

“I’m going to miss you so much too, so much more than you can imagine,” he said breathlessly when you two parted for air. The rest didn’t last for long, however, as soon enough your partner had returned to kissing you. He needed you, right now. Childe didn’t care about the ship waiting for him in the dock, his mind could only process you.

The two of you were so absorbed in your covert operation, your hand slipping up his shirt at the taunting triangle of skin, that you didn’t notice the fatui agent approach the alleyway, searching for Childe.

“Tartaglia, sir,” the agent announced their presence, a little hesitant to whether or not they should be there at that moment.

Childe merely flicked his pupils to the disturbance, his demeanor suddenly changing to that of a warrior trained for fierce battles. The side-eye was enough for the agent to nod and take the hint that they weren’t wanted.

Your partner pressed his forehead to yours, breathing in your scent for the last time for a while. “I guess we’ll just have to continue this when I return.”

#genshin impact #diluc #childe #tartaglia #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin diluc #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #diluc x reader #diluc x you #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #genshin headcannons #starrconch

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happytroopers · 3 years

Text

Origin Day // platonic 501st! Reader

Tw: alcohol use

It’s my 21st birthday and I want to go clubbing with the 501st

“Wait, isn’t twenty-one like a big deal for civvies?” Fives asked, watching you wrench a bolt tighter on the sliding door of a gunship in the large hangar of the Coruscant GAR barracks. Most clone troopers genuinely didn’t understand the sensationalized idea of birthdays (or as most people in the galaxy called them: Origin Days). The closest they had was when they were let out of the growth chambers. You shrugged, giving the wrench one last pull before wiping the sweat off your forehead.

“On some planets.” You hummed, “For some species. Depends on when the government deems your species old enough to drink alcohol.”

“So you can enlist in the military, but can’t go for a drink.” Echo asked, eye brows furrowing while Fives muttered something about that being bullshit.

You gave the gunship one last appraisal before deciding you had done all you could do. If they wanted those dents out, high command would have to sanction heavy equipment. Finally, you looked back to the Arc trooper duo.

“Which is why you’ve never seen me in 79’s.”

“Civie laws make no sense.” Fives stated bluntly, kicking himself off the crate he’d be lounging on. “So are you doing anything?”

“Well, my childhood friends live on a different planet, and my academy friends are all deployed at the moment.” You voice was strained as you stretched your arms over your head, “Aside from getting those AT-RT’s back in working order? Not unless you two have any brilliant ideas.”

Over your head, the two Arc troopers shared a look. They did in fact have an idea-though ‘brilliant’ was a little bit generous.

_______

“Don’t you two have an early call time tomorrow?” You yelled over the thumping music, subconsciously tugging at your outfit (you had forgotten how exposing civvie clothes felt compared to your military uniforms).

79’s was busier than usual according to Echo who was walking in front of you to part the crowd. Fives was behind you, guiding you with a warm hand on the small of your back.

“Yeah, but you don’t.” Fives answered with a smile in his voice. In front of you Echo nodded.

“We’ll manage.” He paused, pulling you in front of him and pointing to a back corner, “Besides, I doubt it’ll be that much of a problem.”

You eyes followed his finger to find an unexpected sight. Half of the 501st was gathered around a corner booth, even Captain Rex who rarely ever ventured to the club scene.

Fives and Echo watched your expression carefully, relieved when you broke into a laugh and your hands flew to your mouth.

“It’s not much but-“ Echo started in with something cheesy, but you cut him off, taking both his and Fives hands as you pulled them towards the corner.

“It’s perfect.” You promised. And it was. For some the party had already started: Hardcase and Jesse were clutching long necked bottles while they teased Tup. Kix and Rex were chatting over swirling low ball glasses of whiskey. And to your surprise, Dogma even come, even if he was just clutching a glass of water like a life preserver.

When they finally caught sight of you, you could hear their whoops and hollers over the music.

“Hey!” “There she is!” “Wooooo, (Y/N)!”

Amongst other greetings were chorused as you were pulled into the fold. Echo passed you off to Jesse who through an arm around your shoulders, easily pulling you to his side while Hardcase clapped a hand onto your back. Tup simply offered you a kind smile. They were all laughing and it was contagious.

Rex didn’t get up, but he did raise his glass to you with a nod and a smile. Dogma, who looked like he didn’t truly want to be there, at least managed a smile, even if it was a bit forced. You appreciated his presence, nonetheless. Kix slid out of the booth, fingers dipping into a pocket on his belt and producing a medium sized, clear gel capped pill before planing it in your hand. You took it, a little hesitantly, but looked up at him in confusion.

“It’s a hydration supplement. You’re gonna wanna take that if you want to function tomorrow.” He promised with a wink, offering the untouched glass of water. You followed his instructions and then the party really started.

While Kix had been being the responsible one, Hardcase had snuck off and had returning with a tray of nine shots that glowed a not-so-subtle neon blue. Because that’s what you should do- drink things that glow.

After placing them on the table, everyone took one of the tiny glasses (or in Dogma’s case was bullied into taking one), and looked to Rex expectantly.

“Well, Captain, aren’t you going to give a toast?” Fives chided, holding his shot up. Rex rose an eye brow, but mirrored the action.

“Alright. We’re very lucky to celebrate together tonight and even luckier to call (Y/N) our friend. Let’s drink to the 501st, to the Republic, and to many more years for (Y/N).” He announced very seriously and sincerely, locking eyes with you. It was almost enough to make you misty eyed- had Hardcase not immediately yelled.

“Hell yeah, I’ll drink to that! To (Y/N)!!” He shouted, and before you could changed your mind to raised the glass to your friends and threw it back. Surprisingly, the glowing liquor was sweet, a flavor you couldn’t quite place, but it did leave a burning trail down your throat. You coughed, at first, before shivering when the alcohol settled into your belly. The boys laughed at your expression.

“Well, if you’re not gonna drink it,” Hardcase shrugged, plucking the tiny glass out of Dogma’s hand and putting it in yours, “the birthday girl should.”

It was going to be a night.

And it was.

There were a couple of shots thrust into your hands periodically through the night that sustained the bubbly warmth moving through you blood. Between the shots, Fives and Echo did a good job of convincing random soldiers to buy you drinks. There was dancing and laughter, enough to last a lifetime.

Rex was the first to leave, handing you a glass of water and reminding you to pace yourself before looking sternly at Fives and Echo, “You two makes sure she gets home safe, that’s an order.”

Dogma was next, slipping out shortly after Rex. But not before you convinced to dance with you. It was stiff and awkward, but you managed to get him to laugh before the song was up. After Hardcase loudly boo-ed him for ‘wussing’ out, he wished you a happy Origin Day and reminded you of the call time for the next day.

That was when Jesse delivered you a fruity little umbrella drink, and coincidentally that was when night became a little fuzzy.

Fives, Echo, Jesse, Hardcase, Tup, and Kix took turns dancing with you, trading you around. Jesse even scared some shiny off when they tried to ease into your dance, getting a little too handsy for his taste. At one point, Jesse and Hardcase had you hoisted onto their shoulders as Tup waited ready to catch you if they dropped you. Before you knew it, the bartender was calling last call.

Then there were flashes of the journey home. Stumbling out of 79’s with the rest of the late night crowd, not being able to flag a taxi big enough for seven, deciding to walk, getting distracted by greasy street food, tripping over your own feet bad enough that Kix had to patch up your scraped up knees, and winding up at the Clone barracks being carried on Echo’s back, fast asleep. The only thing you remembered from the barracks was passing a group of clones in black and red armor, and one of them muttering, ‘regs...’ in disdain. By the time they realized they forgot to take you home, they were too tired to remedy it.

And that’s how you woke up in Hardcase’s bunk, with the said solider crashing on top of Tup in the bunk below you. Fives and Echo were slumped against each other, sitting on the floor. Kix was the only one where he was supposed to be and he was sleeping very soundly. Jesse was nowhere to be found.

None of you made it to call on time.

#clone wars x reader #captain rex x reader #fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #echo x reader #clone trooper tup #tup x reader #clone trooper jesse x reader #arc trooper Jesse x reader #clone trooper kix x reader #kix x reader #dogma x reader #clone wars imagine

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the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

The Nanny Pt. 3

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: alcohol/drinking, food, corrupt cop, mentions of prostitution/smut, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, mentions of serial killers/murder, mutual pining,

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: I got inspired re-watching one of my favorite shows and I want to know if anyone else gets the reference I’m using! If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know! This is also unedited!

Taglist Form is in my bio!

Series Masterlist

Your shoulders tensed listening to the radio in the morning. Sitting on your ottoman, you were painting your nails, using the coffee table as your nail station. It was a really bright morning, and you had the curtains pulled open to draw in light. Julie frantically rushed between her room and the bathroom getting ready for her shift at the diner. The newest single from The Beach Boys was playing through the little counter top radio, but at the top of the hour, the melodies playing through the speaker changed to the news. The top story of the morning was chilling.

“Jules,” you said, calling her over hesitantly, putting the cap back on the bottle of polish. “Come listen to this.”

She scurried out of her room while working to tie her apron in the back, and then she stood next to where you sat to listen to the story on the news. The color drained from her face as you both listened to the reporter describe the horrific scene that was under investigation early this morning.

Roy Laferty was an evangelical preacher whose body washed up by the lake very early that same morning. The news report talked about the police investigation, and also disclosed his wife Helen, is also reported missing. They are looking into the disappearance of Helen, as well as opening a full investigation on Laferty’s murder. They also urge individuals with any information regarding the two to call the Sheriff’s department and to provide a statement.

“That’s horrifying,” you mumble, shocked as you try to process the news. Julie nods in agreement but strangely doesn’t seem nearly as affected by the news as you.

“It’s happening again,” she mutters, obviously concerned but her lack of surprise worries you.

“What do you mean again?” you ask.

“There was a string of unexplained murders, all men, like this newest one,” Julie explained, “This was all over the news like two years ago- can’t believe you hadn’t heard about it.” All you could do was shrug; this was all new to you. “Obviously, there was nothing linking their deaths, but there were these five killings a couple of years ago that are still unsolved. There’s no evidence, but the town rumors it was like a serial killer or something. Nothing is confirmed, of course, just a story.”

“What makes people think it was all the same person?” you ask, hesitantly.

“All the people were always the same type,” she shrugs, “Men all in their 20s and 30s. Again, there’s nothing linking them all together. It’s just talk.”

You clicked off the radio, and didn’t know what to do with yourself. Julie patted your shoulder, comfortingly but she had to go on with her day. So did you, and you almost her ability to move about the apartment almost unfazed by the news. You suppose it makes sense, her growing up here she’s probably used to it. You didn’t have the experience or the thick skin she had.

You had decided to go to the library, still preoccupied by the news segment as well as the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff. You spent the better half of the morning looking at the library’s archives of old newspapers. You wanted to read more about the unsolved cases Julie had told you about, so there you sat for several hours looking through the microfilm reader. You even stumbled upon articles that featured the Sheriff.

There he was plain as day on the front page when it was announced he had won the election the first time he ran several years back. You couldn’t help but notice the changes in his appearance and demeanor compared to the man you keep running into. He was a little slimmer, and he looked a lot happier, a little fuller of life, you decided was a good way to explain it. His smile was wider, and you could see the difference in his eyes as well. It was seeing how he was before the stress of the job began to take its heavy toll. He had on the same leather jacket as well, you were fairly certain, even though the one in the photograph hung a little looser.

You continued to skim through articles, piecing your way through the history of Knockemstiff. Little articles in black and white that persevered the history of this dark little town. You were beginning to realize this backwater town was a lot more tangled and complex than you originally believed. It was a tangled history, riddled with crime and unclosed cases, that people seem to have either forgotten or choose to ignore for their own sake. Your mind wandered back to the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff and him being corrupt. You wonder how much of what you read about linked back to him. Though you imagine if he has any sort of political connection, which a man like him must have, the things he was involved in probably didn’t even make it into the paper. The thought made you physically shiver.

You put the large leather portfolios of archives you took and put them back into their proper place on the self chronologically. You grabbed your sweater from the back of your chair, and pushed the chair back into place. Looking up at the clock on the wall, it was only just one in the afternoon. You decided to head down to the diner and grab a bite, and also visit Julie during her second shift. It was a short walk from the library to the diner. Everywhere felt like a short walk here, probably because everything in downtown was not much bigger than a few blocks. The majority of people lived far from the center of town, on their own land and farms.

The little bell on the door rang when you stepped in and Julie waved at you from behind the counter and pointed for you to grab an empty table in her section. You put your bag on the table and took a seat. It was a fairly busy time, most people who worked at the surrounding businesses coming in for their lunch break. Julie brought you over a coffee and then said she’d be back to chat when she got to take her five.

Lee hadn’t been able to go home since the phone call. The symptoms of his hangover were worsening and he was growing more irritable. His five o’clock shadow was still evident on his tired face and his head was pounding. He tried his best to just power through it but the sound of anyone trying to talk to him just made his ears ring.

After leaving the scene, he had to stop by his office and then he was on the phone for the better part of an hour fielding calls from frantic citizens not only of Knockemstiff but also Meade, where Laferty was from. Despite how horribly he felt, he tried his best to keep his temper level and just reassure people he had things under control. He was losing his patience.

He opened up his desk drawer and grabbed his bottle of asprin. Empty. He threw it into the small waste bin and got up abruptly grabbing his jacket off the hook and storming out. He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving and he didn’t care. It was a short walk to the drugstore from the station and he wouldn’t be five minutes. He just needed to do something to stop his head from hurting.

“Afternoon, Sheriff,” the pharmacist greeted when he walked in. He nodded his head upwards briefly to reply without having to talk. He just needed to get in and out. She went back to whatever she was working on when he came in, and he browsed the aisles for what he needed. After paying and walking out, he glanced in the direction of the diner when he was crossing the street. There you were, again. Sitting alone and chatting with the waitress that was refilling your coffee.

He let out a heavy sigh, and then continued walking. He didn’t want you to see him like this, hungover, unshaved, wrinkled uniform and heavy undereye bags from his lack of sleep. You looked- well, Lee thought you were the prettiest thing he’s seen in a while, maybe ever. There was something about you he couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe it was just because you weren’t from here. You were a fresh face, and not ruined by this town. There was a sweetness and an innocence in how you talked to him, because you didn’t know him like the rest of people here did. He liked that.

Even when he left the station for the day, he couldn’t even go home yet. He had a meeting at the bar with one of Brown’s lackeys. He was just supposed to collect his cut so he couldn’t imagine it would take long, but he was still annoyed. Stepping into the bar he looked around as he took off his hat. It was a little more crowded tonight then when he was here last. The red curtain was closed and his eyes lingered there for a moment before directing his attention to the man he recognized who was waving him over.

“Sheriff,” the man greets and Lee slides into the booth across from him.

“Hayward,” he replies. Without even needing to order, the bartender comes over bringing them a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

“You ever go back there?” Hayward asks, watching as a girl came out and brought a man behind the curtain who had been waiting at the bar.

“No,” Lee scoffs.

“They are amazing,” Hayward says, almost giddy. Lee feels sympathy towards the poor woman who had to take care of him. Lee doesn’t acknowledge the statement and just empties his glass and begins to pour himself a second.

“So, my cut?” Lee asks. Hayward frowns and goes into the breast pocket of his sports coat and pulls out an envelope of cash.

“You aren’t getting full,” the man says when Lee cocks a brow at the thinness of the envelope.

“Still?” Lee asks, pissed. Hayward nods. Lee’s jaw clenches.

“You didn’t keep things tidy on your end,” Hayward reminds him, “You got one job. Keep the cops out of our territory. We had two cruisers drive through last week. The only reason you’re getting anything at all is cause you managed to keep your people off us when we did the exchange with Deckard’s crew.”

The man finishes his drink, and then slaps the empty glass on the table. He pulls out his own envelope, which is much thicker than Lee’s and drops down more than enough for the drinks. He chuckles condescendingly and tells the Sheriff to get a dance. Fuck that. Lee takes the extra money and plans to just put it right in his pocket and go home. He finishes his third scotch and suddenly his headache was back. He felt worse than he did earlier today.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” a feminine voice asks, making him break his line of thought. He looks to his side and he recognizes her as one of the girls he sees bringing men to the back room, behind the velvet curtain. He shakes his head, and instead of leaving him alone, she slides into the booth next to him. Her hand grazes over his thigh. “You seem awful tense, Sheriff,” she says and then bites her lip.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. He knows she doesn’t actually want him, and it’s just an attempt to get him to spend money in the backroom. If he doesn’t focus his already hazing vision, maybe she could vaguely remind him of you. He can’t do it, but he wants to. Her hand moves up his leg and he pulls away. He adjusts his pants and she shrugs.

“Maybe next time then,” she winks before walking away. He rests his head back on the vinyl seat and sighs. He grabs his hat and jacket, leaving before he changes his mind. “Ask for Cherry when you come in, yeah?” she calls when he walks out.

You are just everywhere. You’re in his head and he doesn’t even know you. He needs to sleep, desperately, and part of him in the back of his mind hopes you’ll be there. When he wakes up, he doesn’t remember.

“Have you heard about the Church fundraiser coming up?” Julie asks. You shake your head. “It’s a pretty big deal here. Everyone participates.”

“What is it?” you ask, kicking off your slippers so you can sit crisscross on the couch.

“Bid-On-A-Basket,” she says casually, like it’s the most obvious thing.

“Never heard of it,” you reply, “It sounds fun. What is it?”

“All us single gals put together a picnic basket with everything for a lunch,” she explains, “and then all the eligible bachelors bid on the basket and a date with the girl who made it. Last year, the dreamiest guy, Bill Whittier, bought mine- it’s so fun. Me and Bill didn’t work out but it was a good time.”

“I don’t know anyone here,” you say hesitantly.

“Perfect way to get a date then,” she teases. You bite your lip. You aren’t sure about this.

“And what if some creep is the highest bidder?” you counter.

“You get a bad date story for your next date?” she poses. “Please,” she begs, “It’s for a good cause, all the money this year is going to help the Sunday school.”

“What if no one bids on it?” You rebut.

“Look at yourself,” she scoffs, “you’ll get bids. Trust me.” You roll your eyes.

“I’ll think about it,” you say finally. She smirks, completely planning to wear you down.

“Remember it’s for the kids,” she reasons, “It wouldn’t hurt to go and participate.”

“I said I’ll think about it,” you laugh.

Time passes and soon enough you get another call from Sandy, and you are suddenly back to taking care of Valerie. You had missed her, a lot actually. You definitely have gotten attached to her, and you think you’ve grown on her too. Sandy was vague this time for how long they’d be gone, but since the previous time went so smoothly, you didn’t worry about it.

About a week after Sandy and Carl left this time, there was another disturbing news report. You were sitting on the floor, changing Valerie and you had the television playing softly in the background. The news told the story of another body, this time found in the woods off of the highway. You finish changing the baby and hold her close, her little chin resting on your shoulder as you watch the news story. It was just like Julie had talked about. Another man, thirty years old. He was shot and his body abandoned. You jump at the knock at the front door.

You peep through the curtains, and you see the Sheriff waiting on the front porch. You wonder if he knows you’re there. Part of you almost wishes he knows it you here and he wanted to see you. It’s incredibly stupid on your part and you know better, but nonetheless, part of you hoped he came here for you. Very stupid. With Valerie on your hip, you open the door.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he says walking into the house. He stops in front of you and presses a kiss to Valerie’s forehead and she squeals happily seeing Lee. You close the door with your foot. “May I?” he asks, and opens his arms. You agree, based on Valerie’s reactions to him whenever she sees him. He takes her in his arms, and she starts playing with his tie. He loosens it so she can play with it and not choke him.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” you ask. He reacts in a way in a way you can’t really read, but you don’t press.

His mind just goes back to the woman a couple weeks back in the brothel who asked him the same thing, and that his mind immediately had gone to you. He just clears his throat and snaps himself out of that thought process.

“Um, I just came by to see Sandy,” he says, “But I can fathom a guess that she’s not here?”

“Excellent deduction,” you joke, and he smirks. Valerie has his tie in her mouth and is covering it in drool. He doesn’t even seem to care.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and you nod. “You looked a little scared when you answered.”

“Just watching the news before you showed up is all,” you explain, “They were talking about how there was another man found dead.”

“Ain’t got nothing to worry about,” he says, “We’re on top of it. I’m on my way over there now.”

“Can I ask you something?” you ask hesitantly.

“Of course, darling.”

“My friend, you probably know her- Julie Grady.”

“Yeah, nice kid,” he says, listening but gently pulling his tie from Valerie’s grasp. She starts playing with the flap of the pocket of his jacket.

Kid. You almost grimace. That’s right. Of course, Lee would view someone your age that way. You weren’t. You chastise yourself for even caring, but you decide to continue. You shouldn’t care how he sees you.

“Yeah- well, she told me there have been others,” you continue, “I also read up about it, just the newspapers at the library- but she said people thought it was some kind of serial killer… I just, I want to know what you think.”

“I don’t think know,” he answers honestly, a little taken aback, not expecting you to approach him with something this serious. “I doubt it,” he explains, “Serial killers stay close to home. Now those cases you read about, and these two we are looking at- they sound close together but logistically, they aren’t really. Two of those unsolved were in completely different states- just like this new one.”

“So, no traveling serial killer?” you chuckle, trying to sound lighthearted. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Most people like that stay in one area,” Lee explains, “They work jobs, they have a home, you know? They tend to stay near where they live.”

“That makes me feel much better,” you answer honestly.

“You got nothing to worry about, and that’s a promise,” he grins, although he supposes coming from him that probably doesn’t mean much. Regardless, it makes you smile.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” you offer again. He bites his lip, taking a moment to think.

“Sandy keeps a bag of candy in her cabinet,” he says, walking into the kitchen with you following close behind. He passes Valerie off to you and he chuckles under his breath at the state of his tie. He reaches up in the cabinet and pulls down a brown paper bag, filled with taffies and chocolates.

Something about this man who has a whole time scared of him playing with his niece and then stealing sweets from the cupboard is something you find so strangely endearing. He unwraps one of the brightly colored taffies and then puts the bag in his pocket.

“I gotta go,” he announces, “let me know if you hear from Sandy, yeah?”

“Of course,” you reply.

“Gonna head out to that scene, and do my report,” he discloses, not really sure why he’s telling you. “Then I have a meeting at the rectory about that fundraiser thing. Figure out security.”

“They need security at Bid-On-A-Basket?” you ask, with an eyebrow raised. He smiles.

“You going?” he asks, flirtatiously.

“Just seems weird to have police at a Church thing.”

“There’s been stupid fights,” he shrugs, “some guy will get outbid and cause a fuss. Nothing serious. Probably just gonna be me and a deputy in case. You going?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” you say sheepishly. “Why?”

He walks towards the front door, and you follow seeing him out.

“Cause I gotta know if I’ll be bidding on a basket,” he winks.

“You gonna start a fight if you don’t win it?” you joke.

“If it’s yours? Absolutely, darling.”

Taglist:

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro @pyronack @greeneyedblondie44 @acciosiriusblack @weenersoldierr @teenagemutant @witchybarb @iraot @my-love-darling @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @swiftieandthewintersoldier @letsfly-andbe-free @rebekahdawkins @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @hersilencedscreams @unsaltedalmonds @dangerdolns @vintagepigeon @bluebouquetcupcake29 @goslytherin @captainofallfandoms @buckistan @aynanasstuff @everything-is-all-clear @rosalynshields @tinynshykitten

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #the devil all the time #sebastian stan characters #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker x f!reader #lee bodecker smut #slow burn #mystery #lee bodecker oneshot

417 notes · View notes

sfb123 · 3 years

Note

I just read your drunk Liam fic and I just HAD to send you some prompts!!! From the prompt list you hyperlinked 9, 16, and 17 maybe? (Preferably liamxriley) pretty plz?* insert puppy dog eyes🥺*

Well… since you inserted puppy dog eyes…

I wanted to try to incorporate all three of these into one story, which actually worked out really well. Then, the issue came of how to make that apply to Liam and Riley. Luckily, my current binge obsession is the 90′s sitcom Mad About You, and there was an episode the other night that set a lightbulb off in my head, so this fic is loosely based on that episode.

Prompts:

“We should grab coffee together sometime.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“You need a lift?”

(Prompt pulled from this list. Feel free to send me more!)

Word Count: 1,431

Warnings: Adult language, mild innuendo

A/N: Thank you @phoenixrising308 for pre-reading. Your kindness and support are unparalleled, and I love you dearly.

Also a thank you to @txemrn for dealing with my unnecessary back and forth about this moodboard. I ended up going with it, even though we were both so wishy washy about it.

A/N 2: This is my third prompt story this week, I’m going to take a break and quietly write by myself for a while. I’ll continue to work on the asks I have received, and please please feel free to send more. I’m having so much fun! I just don’t want to bombard you all, so I’m going to start pacing my posting. When I finish a piece, I just get so excited when I finish something that I want to show you all so badly!

***

Liam and Riley sat across from each other at the table, sharing the piece of cake that sat between them. They were in New York visiting Riley’s family for a few days, and her mother had insisted that Eleanor spend the night, so the royal couple was taking full advantage of their child-free night, wrapping up the evening with dinner at one of Riley’s favorite restaurants.

“Hey, check that out.” Riley tipped her head toward the bar, where a man was approaching a woman who was sitting alone at the bar. “He’s going to shoot his shot and try to pick her up.”

“How do you know?” Liam asked, watching as the woman nodded, the man immediately sitting down beside her.

“I worked in a bar long enough, I can read the body language and tell you exactly what’s going to happen.”

He turned to his wife, a skeptical expression on his face. “Prove it.”

“Wow, you don’t even believe your own wife. I’m wounded.” She placed her hand over her heart in mock devastation. “Fine, I hope you saved room after that cake, because you’re about to eat your words.”

Riley went on to explain what each was saying to the other, and accurately predicted each move that was made. Liam was so impressed that part of him felt like she may have hired these people specifically to act out this scene.

“Now watch, he’s going to pull out his phone and try to get her to put her number in.” She said, as the man reached into his back pocket.

“Is he going to get it?” Liam couldn’t help but be invested in the story that his wife was narrating for him.

“She’s going to give him a number, but see how she’s already almost standing up?” Liam nodded, waiting with baited breath for her to continue, “She’s going to give him a fake number, and then leave immediately. She doesn’t want to reject him to his face.”

“That’s cold.”

“It’s life, we’ve all done it.” Riley replied nonchalantly.

Liam’s gaze snapped to face her. “You’ve given men fake numbers before?”

She nodded and shrugged. “Lucky for you. You never know, I could have ended up suckered into marrying one of those creeps. Or like locked in their basement or something.”

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I consider myself very lucky for that.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

“Oh oh, here we go, look!” Riley brought his attention back to the bar where the woman was shaking the man’s hand. “Ooooh, not even a courtesy hug. Game over, dude.” They watched the woman exit the restaurant, as the man started typing on his phone. “He’s sending a text to the number she gave. It either won’t be delivered, or he’ll get a reply from someone who is most definitely not that woman.”

“That poor man. He just wanted to find love.”

Riley sighed, shaking her head. “Ahh my sweet, romantic king, your naiveté is so heartwarming. That man is just looking to get laid.” She laughed, “For all the normal experiences you missed out on, aren’t you glad that you never had to pick up women at bars?” She paused for a second. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Liam laughed, his expression quickly turning serious. “Actually, I kind of wish I could have had the opportunity. I think I would have been good at it.” Riley arched a brow at him. “I mean it, I got you to quit your life and fly all the way to Europe because of one night, didn’t I?”

“Touché.” She drummed her fingers against the table in a brief moment of thought, “But can lightning strike twice?”

“What do you mean?”

“Pick me up. I’ll go sit at the bar, you come over and shoot your shot. No social season, no friends, no boxy work uniform. Just a regular guy picking up a regular girl.”

Liam smirked at the proposition. “You’re on.”

Riley left the table and took a seat at the far end of the bar. Once she was seated he put down some money to cover their dinner, and made his way to the bar. “Excuse me miss, is this seat taken?”

She looked up, smiling politely and shaking her head, motioning with her hand for him to have a seat.

“I’m Liam.” He extended his hand.

“Riley. Nice to meet you Liam.” She placed her hand in his, and he brought it to his lips. “A hand kiss instead of a shake, bold move. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, I actually just moved to the states from Europe.”

The bartender approached and took their orders. Liam instructed him to open a tab to cover himself and Riley. He took Liam’s card and stepped away to make their drinks.

“So, why is a beautiful woman like yourself sitting here all alone?” He asked once they were alone again.

Riley tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at the bar, playing up her role. “You’re sweet. I uh… I was supposed to be meeting someone, but I think they stood me up.”

“Well, their loss is my gain.” As the bartender set down their drinks, Liam lifted his glass in Riley’s direction. “A toast,” He waited for Riley to raise her glass before he continued, “To the missteps of old friends, which allow the opportunity to make new ones.”

“So we’re friends now?” Riley asked as she tapped her glass against Liam’s. “That’s awfully presumptuous.”

“Well, we’ve only just met. I’m hoping that perhaps we could get to know each other and see where the evening takes us.”

Riley agreed, and they began with some small talk. Riley stuck to her pre-Cordonia life, while Liam had done a pretty good job of coming up with a non-Royal backstory. They sat there talking, and drinking and ‘getting to know’ each other. Riley was impressed with Liam’s subtle flirting skills and decided that he was right, he would have been pretty good at this had he been given the chance.

The lights came up, and Liam’s bill was dropped on the bar in front of him. “It looks like they’re closing up.” He said as he reviewed the receipt, signing his name at the bottom. “This was a lot of fun Riley, I would like to see you again. We should grab coffee together sometime.”

“I actually don’t drink coffee, I think it’s gross.”

“Oh.” Riley smiled to herself at the disappointment in his voice.

“I would like to see you again, though.” She reassured him.

He looked up at her and smiled. “Could I take you to dinner, maybe?”

“Dinner would be nice.”

“Great!” He noticed the annoyed expression on the bartender's face, they were officially the last customers in the bar. “We should probably go. I’ll walk you home.”

“I actually have a car waiting for me outside.” He dropped his head, again disappointed by the rejection. “You need a lift?”

He smiled widely, standing from his seat. “I’d like nothing more.”

He offered his arm, she slid off the stool and linked hers through his. They exited the restaurant, and were greeted by Bastien, standing in front of their SUV. Before the guard could reach the door handle, Liam released Riley’s arm and jogged ahead, opening Riley’s door for her.

“Such a gentleman.” She smiled coyly as she slid into the backseat. He smiled and got in after her.

“Back to the hotel, your majesties?” Bastien asked as he entered the driver’s side.

“Yes please.” Riley answered.

Liam looked at her curiously. “Assuming I’m going to come home with you, bold move.”

She laughed. “You don’t have to come, but I promise you’ll have fun if you do.” Riley said in a sultry tone, closing the distance between the two of them.

“Riley…” Liam’s voice was just above a whisper as she leaned in, finally pressing her lips to his. They pulled back breathless from their kiss, their eyes remained closed as they rested their foreheads together. “I guess lighting can strike twice.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the second time I picked you up in a bar, and the second time you kissed me first.” He grinned triumphantly.

Riley leaned back, laughing as her eyes met Liam’s. “I guess that means you win?”

“Great, let’s go back to the hotel so I can collect my prize.” He brought his hand to her cheek and pulled her in, kissing her again.

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @bbrandy2002 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emersynwrites @emkay512 @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @pixie88 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @shewillreadyou @sincerelyella @sweatyrysconnoisseur @tessa-liam @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612 @neotericthemis

Liam:

@amandablink @ao719 @yourmajesty09

One Shots:

@bebepac @darley1101

#choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #choices the royal finale #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #trr #trh #trf #play choices #choices stories you play #liam x mc #liam x riley #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trh fanfic #trh fandom

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

dark place, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Min Yoongi is a man with no recourse, looking into the depths of an empty bottle. He’s in his dark place now and there’s no end to the darkness. The only one who holds the light is you, the other with your own dark place, the one he drove away. You shouldn’t have come.

warnings: mentions of attempted suicide; depression; former (toxic) lovers; rated M (18+) for language, alcohol consumption; heavy angst; smut (fem reader, f and m-receiving oral, tit fucking, penetrative sex)

“Hey.”

He must be seeing things. This couldn’t be real.

“You smell like alcohol.”

He did. He did smell like alcohol. He reeked of it. Because he was alone. Because he was thoughtless. Because he was empty, just like the whiskey bottle in his hand. Because he wanted to go to heaven, as soon as possible, and maybe, just maybe, if he drowned himself enough, he could part the sea of his own tears, walk across them, and never come back to this version of himself.

You pushed the door open, just a little. He relented, stumbling back. You stepped inside quickly, catching him. He pushed you away and you let him, sighing softly. You closed the door behind you and stepped out of your heels, watching him wobble into his apartment, almost tripping, almost dropping the bottle.

“Yoongi.”

Min Yoongi paused, swaying. You watched his form, waiting.

“Who sent you?”

His raspy voice was grating and accusatory.

“Hoseok.”

For a moment, you thought he was going to hurl the whiskey bottle. Instead, he just crumpled, sliding to the floor slowly, a mountain of black. Black hoodie, black sweatpants, black hair.

A long time ago, you had asked him the question. The question that drove you two apart, the question that you knew the answer to, but asked anyway. Back then, you thought nothing was more painful than limbo.

“I can’t.”

Those were his words to you at the time.

You took a few steps in, bending down to take the empty whiskey bottle from his limp hand. He wasn’t asleep, but he wasn’t trying to stay conscious either. You were in your black slacks, black vest, and white dress shirt. Your bartending uniform. You knelt down and gently took him by the arms. He tried to fight you, but it seemed more like he was fighting himself. His whole body was shaking, pale face paler and gaunter than before. You dragged him to the bathroom, to the toilet.

He vomited.

You waited, him crouched over the toilet bowl, emptying his stomach of the liquor.

You told yourself you would never come back here. Jung Hoseok called you many times, asking you to come. Asking for help. And every time, you told him you couldn’t. That you weren’t ready. Hoseok pleaded with you, begged. Said you were the only one who understood, the only one who could even fathom what was going on in Yoongi’s head. And every time, you said you couldn’t. Because of what he said.

I can’t.

Then neither can I, you had thought to yourself.

You heard Yoongi choke a little and reached up to pat his back. Ran your hand over it, feeling his bones under the thick fabric, feeling his shivering. He flushed the toilet and you lifted him, righting him in front of the sink. He bent over it, rinsing his face, washing out his mouth. You didn’t say anything. Watched him brush his teeth and rinse some more.

You didn’t look at the mirror. You didn’t want to see your own face. If you didn’t see yourself with him, then maybe it would be like you never came. Like you were never here. Like you never gave in.

“I’m afraid he’s going to kill himself.”

That’s what Hoseok had told you. And you knew you shouldn’t have come, because when you’re in that place, no one can help you. No one can hold you. And you knew that. You knew that, because years and years ago, before you met Yoongi, before you even knew love could exist…

You had stood there, in that dark place.

That night, in that garage, covered in gasoline, you stood there, shakily holding that match. You really thought that was the end. You really thought, this was the way. Not simple, easy, effective, but full-on suffering. You thought you deserved that. You were young then. You didn’t know there were easier ways. You just wanted it to end.

Yoongi lifted his head. You could tell that he was looking at himself in the mirror, looking at that dark place. You knew there was nothing you could say. Nothing to do but stand there.

When two people are in that dark place together, the relationship can’t last. The relationship can’t breathe, because even if you’re in the same place, you both got there in different ways. Both of you would try to heal the other with words that never worked, because neither of you understood how you got there in the first place. You knew that now, much too late.

Yoongi turned around. You could see it, reflected in his dead eyes. The same scene you saw when you were standing in that garage that night so long ago.

“Why did you come?” he rasped.

You smiled sadly and told the truth.

“I don’t know.”

He looked down, at your clothes.

“You look dumb.”

You chuckled wryly. “I thought you liked formal wear.”

Yoongi frowned at you. His dark circles were even worse now.

“You look better naked.”

You shrugged. “I might get arrested on my way here if I did that.”

He scoffed, the side of his mouth raising a little. He pushed himself off the sink and tried to brush past, only to sway and descend against you, sliding down. You reached out and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Even though Yoongi was taller than you, his body felt like nothing. You stood there. He was breathing raggedly.

“I haven’t eaten.”

“You never do when you’re…”

You were about to say, like this, but you trailed off. You had the same habit too. That’s how you knew you were slipping back to that dark place.

Yoongi shuddered, leaning his head against your stomach. “I bet you were never like this after…” He trailed off too, not saying it.

“I was. In a different way.”

“Not anymore, though.”

There was a long silence.

“You learn to pretend.”

He stiffened at your words. “Don’t give me hope.”

You narrowed your eyes even though he wasn’t looking at you. You scowled. “You were the one destroyed it all.”

He lifted himself away from you. Broke out of your grasp. He was kneeling, staring at the floor.

“I know.”

You felt the anger come back. You wanted to scream. If you knew, why? If you knew, then why would you do this to me? Why would you ruin everything? Why would you say, I can’t? I can’t. The words that haunted you every night, every day, every waking second, and every nightmarish dream. But you didn’t cry. You didn’t start. Everything was apathy.

“Do you love me?”

You thought you were mishearing things. You thought your thoughts had come to life and spoken to you. For the first time, you looked into the mirror, into your own eyes. Your own dark circles. Your own face, gaunt and sickened from lonely nights. Was this some kind of cruel joke? Some kind of twisted déjà vu? You huffed in disbelief and looked down, down at the black curled-up form of Min Yoongi. Had he really, just now, said those words to you?

You crouched down. He wasn’t looking at you.

“I can’t.”

He flinched a if he was slapped. Then, very gradually, he turned his head to face you. Staring at you, with those empty, hollow dark brown eyes.

You exhaled deeply. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” you whispered.

He nodded, slowly. “Yeah.”

You knew why he said it back then. Depression. You were both in that dark place. Neither of you fully understood why the other was there. Both of you used it to manipulate the other. Both of you used it like poison, puppeteering the other into the kind of love that was only based on pity, on fear, on sadness. And both of you knew it was wrong, it was terrible, and it was not the way to live. It was not love. And when you finally pulled the word out to him, he pushed you away, either from self-loathing or to protect you. Maybe both.

You sat down on his bathroom floor, looking into the eyes of the man you loved. And maybe they were the same as yours. You didn’t know. You kept yourself busy with work, taking double shifts to forget everything, working your body until you ached and collapsed in bed every night.

Yoongi’s face was completely blank.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

You wanted to hold him. Touch his face, tell him it was okay. Tell him you would always come back.

“There’s nowhere else to go,” you replied.

He was hurting. Hurting so very much. Yoongi stared at your face, at the spirit that he knew he broke, at the heart he knew he shattered. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

“I should have one more.”

“You know you shouldn’t.”

Yoongi turned his body, swallowing hard. His legs fell open, one knee up, the other on the floor. A familiar position, where you used to crawl up to and sit with him. But now you sat across from him, unmoving.

“I can’t do anything.” His voice was a cracked whisper, despairing. “I can’t compose. I can’t write lyrics. I can’t think of anything new. Everything sounds like shit. Everything is shit.” He smacked his head against the sink cabinets, brows furrowing. “My muse left me.”

He opened his eyes, slowly. Slowly. You weren’t crying. You just looked at him, heart aching.

“You told me to leave.”

His eyes shifted down. He wasn’t really looking at the floor. He was looking somewhere else, into the dark place.

“I know.”

You knew it would hurt you. You knew his voice, caked with remorse and shame, would hurt you. You knew and yet you came anyway, running at Hoseok’s panicked tone. You also knew, as Yoongi held his hand out and touched your face, brushing his fingers against your cheek, that you shouldn’t have come.

“I’m sorry.”

Because you knew it would be like this. So genuine and real, the way he said it, intoxicated, on the edge and hating himself. You knew because you were capable of the same thing. And yet you let him pet your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. Yoongi studied your eyes, your mouth. He leaned forward, pink lips parting.

You wanted it to be different. You wanted to hold your hand up to stop him. You wanted to be the voice of reason. You didn’t want to get hurt anymore.

But you let him kiss you because, in the end, you were weak too.

He pressed his lips against yours, a little minty from the toothpaste. You inhaled softly, breathing in that familiar smell. He still reeked of alcohol, but there was his own scent too, the scent you loved, the scent you dreamed about. His familiar taste. He leaned in more, crawling to you, cupping your face, lips molding to yours, his gentle breath against them. His tongue slipping out, licking yours. And you knew, with every second, that you were digging your own grave, but you let him because he was falling apart and maybe he was just using you an excuse to not think anymore.

Maybe that’s all it was.

Yoongi’s hands dragged down, finding the buttons of your vest. Pulling them apart, opening it up. He pressed his palms against your chest, nipping lightly at your lips. You breathing hitched, pushing your head back against the bathroom door as he kissed down your jaw, your neck, to the collar of your white shirt. You bit your lip as he undid each button, kissing every bit of exposed skin. You tried to tell yourself to stop him, but he was already pulling your dress shirt out of your pants, pushing it down to expose your bra.

“You still wear front clasp bras.”

You shrugged. “Easy access.”

Yoongi looked up at you, eyes in pain. “For who?”

You looked at the floor. “No one, anymore.”

His deft fingers undid the clasp.

“Was it only for me?” Yoongi murmured, spreading his fingertips on your breasts, pushing the cups aside.

“Everything was only for you.”

He paused. Your chest was fully exposed, shapely breasts with perky nipples poking out at him. He was between your legs, having spread them apart to move downward. Still fully clothed. Yoongi lifted his head, scooting back up to your face. His dark eyes found yours. He pressed his clothed chest against your naked one, forehead against yours.

“I’m hurting you.”

Your hand came up and petted his dark hair. Ran your hand though his dark locks, holding him close.

“That’s okay,” you breathed against his lips. “I know why.”

His large hands slid up your naked back, eyes closing. He turned his head to kiss you again, harder this time. Hungrier this time. Trying to tell you he was sorry for being this way, sorry it was like this, sorry he couldn’t stop. His nails dug into your back, dragging down, and you gasped, breathing into his mouth. He moaned, rolling his body into yours. Rubbing his hoodie into your nipples. You whimpered as the thick fabric stimulated them.

Yoongi pulled back a little to yank his hoodie over his head, dragging the white t-shirt underneath with it. He placed his hands on your waist and drew you into his lap, pulling your shirt and vest off, placing you two back in that familiar position. He was thin and pale, as if he hadn’t been outside for a long time. You leaned down and kissed him, soft kisses on his lips and cheeks, hands on his shoulders. He whispered your name and you whispered sweet nothings, holding him to you as he kneaded your breasts. Gently feeding his ego, falling into a familiar pattern. He smiled up at you, rubbing his thumbs against your nipples, making you moan.

“Has anyone else touched you?” he murmured. “Anyone else since that time?”

Even if someone had, you wouldn’t have told him. “No,” you breathed, gasping as he tugged gently at your nipples.

“I couldn’t think about anyone else,” Yoongi mumbled, pressing his hands into your breasts again, cupping them. “Your body is like a drug.”

You smiled into his forehead. “It’s a pretty normal body.”

“No, it’s not.”

His hands slid down to your waist, nails scratching into your sides. You hissed, arching your back. He continued, clawing at your sides, leaving red marks as you squirmed, throwing your head back as he teased your erogenous zones.

“It’s the body I remember,” Yoongi purred, tilted his head up at you, watching you fall apart. “It’s the body I loved, the body I continue to love, the body I will forever love.”

You wanted so desperately for it to be true, but there was no point in asking now. You clenched your jaw and panted, pleasure prickling up to invade your thoughts, each a blooming spiderweb over your doubts, your fears, your reason. You saw Yoongi’s lips part, trembling as he watched, becoming just as aroused as you.

“Look at you.” His voice low and gravelly, familiar. “You love it when my hands are all over you, don’t you?”

His nails scratched up your back and then back down to your sides, over and over, crisscross marks into your skin like an animal, marks you used to stare at in the mirror and rub yourself to, thinking of him.

You looked down, breathing hard.

“Always.”

You reached for your slacks as he continued, your body shaking with pleasure, unbuttoning them, unzipping them. His hands dragged your pants and panties down, stopping because of your spread thighs. His nails came down to your ass and you moaned, grabbing his shoulders, wishing you were stronger, wishing you were better, wishing depression wasn’t a forever contract. Because you were weak when it came to Min Yoongi, weak when he pushed you to the hallway, yanking your pants down and shoving them aside, weak to him spreading your legs, dipping down.

You sighed in pleasure as his tongue touched you, daintily pushing your slick folds aside, hands on your hips, holding you still as he breathed into your heat.

“Ah, Yoongi…”

His name, so cruel and beautiful, leaving your lips as he closed his eyes and played with your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Just take the pills and the dark place will go away. But it never went away; it just found more creative ways to break you, and you had shared it with no one but the talented tongue beneath you, the tongue that greedily lapped at your clit, so fast and hard that your spine arched, hands on his, every muscle tensing.

“Y-Yoongi, you feel s-so good…”

And you knew it was wrong, you knew you had to stay away, for your sanity and his, but it was too late, too late as he pushed you over the edge, sucking on your clit and licking fast. Your hips bucked and it poured out of you as you pressed your head against the floor and moaned his name again, eyelids fluttering as he sucked it out of you like a vampire, moaning into your pussy, your orgasm like honey, coating his tongue. He fucked you with it, feeling your walls close in on his tongue as he pushed in and out, scooping out more, drunk on you.

Your chest rose and fell as Yoongi continued, softer, licking every little bit out of you. When he was done, he crawled back up to your face, lips swollen and glistening, kissing you deeply, thrusting his tongue in your mouth. You could taste yourself, whimpering as he fucked your mouth with the wet muscle, his saliva sliding into your throat.

You felt wetness on your face. You opened your eyes a crack and tears clung to his lashes. Your hand slid up his back, tangling into his hair. Pulling him closer, kissing him deeper, sucking on his tongue. You realized his eyes were open too, watching you, aware that you had seen, but you only held him tighter, closer.

He broke apart, his exhale heavy against your skin, your name so delicately forming on his lips.

“Can I take you to the bed?” Yoongi asked quietly. Trembling, afraid.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Please.”

He got up and extended his hand. You didn’t have to take it. You didn’t have to hold it. But you did, hand fitting perfectly into his, grasping tightly, letting him pull you up. He swayed a little and you smiled, tipping his head towards you to press your nose to his.

“Haven’t you drunk too much?” you teased lightly, intertwining your fingers.

He scoffed as you two began to walk to the bedroom. “Are you implying something?”

“No, not at all.”

Yoongi frowned at you and pushed you into the room, shedding his sweatpants. “You should know I have a high tolerance.”

“You face is still red though.”

You sat onto the bed, facing him, backing up with your hands. You knew how much space was between you and the headboard. You knew where his pillows were. You even knew the feeling of his sheets on your bare body.

Yoongi’s eyes went to the floor. He walked over to his nightstand, opening the drawer.

“Maybe it’s red for a different reason.”

You chuckled as he took out a condom, pushing down his boxer briefs. His cock popped out, semi-hard, tip glistening with pre-cum.

“It’s not me, since we’ve had plenty of sex,” you remarked off-handedly.

He climbed onto the bed, still not looking at you. You slid down, opening your mouth. He stiffened as you wrapped your lips around his cock, closing your eyes as you swiped your tongue over the head. You groaned at his familiar taste, sucking all over, feeling him swell in your mouth. You pressed your tongue against the bottom of his cock, rubbing from side to side, making him suck in a tight breath.

“It is you.”

You opened your eyes, slowly, his cock still in your mouth.

“Because you came back and I don’t deserve that.”

You blinked up at him. Yoongi sunk his teeth into his lower lip, sighing softly.

“And I’m getting hard, even though I’m not supposed to,” he hissed, voice thinning. “And I still want you, even though I’m not good enough.”

You pulled your mouth off him and took him by the waist, dragging him to you. Pulling him as he resisted you feebly, reluctantly. You made him get on top of you, his cock hitting your breasts, wetness dripping everywhere.

“I’m not good enough either,” you said apologetically. “I guess we both suck.”

You pressed your breasts together, trapping his cock between them. He moaned softly, using his own hand to push his cock into your cleavage, rocking his hips back and forth. It should have killed the mood. It should have ruined everything. But it didn’t, either because both of you were incredibly fucked up or too fucking horny to really care anymore as Yoongi humped your tits, covering you with your own saliva and his pre-cum, rolling his hips into your chest.

“So soft…” he groaned, pressing the head in between your breasts. You rubbed your nipples as you held him tight, moaning with him, staring into his dark, cat-like eyes filled with lust, his black hair framing his slightly rounded cheeks, lips dark pink from pleasuring you.

“You’re still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen,” you murmured, knowing he wouldn’t believe you, knowing he didn’t want to believe you.

He chuckled, drawing his cock out from between your breasts. “You always say that. Your eyes need checking.”

You touched your chest, skin sticky and rapidly getting cold. “I’m offended.”

Yoongi shook his head at you, unwrapping the condom and sliding it on. A small smile danced on his lips as he grabbed your thighs, spreading them. How many times had you fought for that smile? How many times had you prayed and hoped that smile would stay, always? And how many times were your dreams shattered as the darkness always came back, dragging you both down into it?

Yoongi positioned you in front of him, one leg onto his shoulder, one leg around his waist. Slowly, slowly, pushing into you, a soft sigh escaping his lips, eyes closing as he felt you envelop him and pull him in, pulsing around him.

“You’re still so fucking tight,” he groaned, shuddering. “How can I fuck anyone else, knowing you’re this tight and this good?”

He went all the way in, hitting your deepest parts. Yoongi always fit you perfectly and you always clenched around him, controlling your muscles. It was sinful with how good it was. He slid out just a little and pushed back in, making you whimper, your legs tightening around him. He dug his nails into your thighs and dragged them over your skin. You gasped, clutching his sheets, feeling his cock throb inside you, tongue tucked in his cheek as he focused.

“Y-Yoongi…”

He smirked. “Can’t get that anywhere else, can you?”

You smiled back, raising an eyebrow. “Not sure, dildos these days are crazy.”

Yoongi laughed. Laughed and made your heart stop. His teeth and his gums flashed as he threw his head back a little, a little dry and raspy, the same laugh you remembered. His dark eyes went to your face, still gripping your thighs, realizing what he had done. You looked away quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

He jerked his hips sharply.

“Hey, I’m still dick-deep here. Pay attention.”

You scoffed and turned back to him as Yoongi leaned down, pressing your leg down to get a higher angle. He rolled his hips into you, grinning as you moaned, your other leg tightly around his waist. You flexed your muscles and he sucked in a tight breath.

“Fuck…” He thrust again, harder this time, shuddering as he felt you squeeze him. “You’re so fucking wet and tight.”

You pressed your head into the pillows as he began to fuck you, really fuck you, hard and fast and powerful, the Yoongi you remember, the Yoongi who clenched his jaw and fucked you so hard that you were gasping for breath, clutching the sheets and moaning as he hit all your deepest parts, making the bed squeak in protest. Your eyes found his and he watched you, pink lips parted, bruising your hips together.

“Fuck, I love the way you sound,” he mumbled, brows furrowing as he increased his pace. You whined, tipping your head back, exposing your neck. “All those sexy noises you make. Fuck. I could cum listening to only your voice.”

“Y-You have…” you gasped. “You’d call me at work, demanding me to g-get you off…”

He grinned. “And you’d always complain about getting in trouble as you fingered yourself in the bathroom.”

“It could have happened,” you hissed. Yoongi leaned in even more, lifting your ass from the bed, thrusting even harder.

“Might still happen.”

Your heartbeat skipped, but then you orgasm crashed down, making you wail loudly as your pussy convulsed around him, massaging his entire length as you shivered, hips jerking involuntarily. He chomped down on his lower lip, swearing as he roughly pounded you, determined not to cum yet, determined to get one more out of you.

“Come on, darling,” he purred, killing you slowly with your old pet name, murdering you with his deep drawl. “Give me another.”

He lifted one hand and swiped at your side, igniting pain once again. You cried out, slamming you head back into his pillows, hips raising to meet his. It made his cock bury deeper into you, unforgiving and unforgettable.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you hissed, his breath hot against your skin, his sweat dripping onto your chest. “Fuck, Yoongi, why is your cock so fucking gooood…”

Your eyes rolled back into your head and you wailed his name, loud and clear, radiating off the walls, a familiar noise to these walls, a familiar scene. He sucked in a breath and rammed into you, gasping as he came, cock twitching against your walls as you felt his entire body tremble as he orgasmed, chest shuddering against your leg.

It took you two a moment to untangle yourselves, comprehension sinking in. Yoongi climbed off you, condom in hand, going back to the bathroom. You laid in his bed, closing your eyes, ribs rattling with shaky breaths. You shouldn’t have come. You knew this would happen. And you knew what would happen next, because you got up robotically, empty inside, wishing you could be stronger, knowing you would have to go to the hallway and the bathroom to collect your clothes and then go home, go home and pretend nothing happened, go home and pretend you were okay, even if nothing was okay.

Nothing was okay.

You stared down at your stomach. His red marks, crisscrossed all over you. His scent, painted on your skin. His taste, all over your lips. His arms, wrapping around you, pulling you to him, holding you tight.

“There’s no home without you,” Yoongi breathed against your skin.

Your eyes looked away, into the dark place. You visited there less often now, but still; it was there. Always waiting. Always coming back.

“Do you love me, YoongI?”

The question, so long ago.

I can’t.

You braced yourself for the answer.

“I do.”

The sound of rain.

“I love you.”

masterpost

if you have visited the dark place always remember, it is only a visit. long visit, short visit, but still, only a visit.

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x you

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thebountyfucker · 3 years

Text

The Royal Affair - A Choose Your Own Prince Fic

18+ ONLY - NSFW

I wanted to try an experiment where I wrote a story with two parallel branches so readers could choose which character they wanted to read without me writing two separate fics! Let me know what you think! (Subject to more parts!)

Embo x AFAB!Reader or Cad Bane x AFAB!Reader

Tags/CW: Threats of violence/assault, embarrassment

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You eased up to the table, smiling despite yourself, and bowed your head. You didn’t say anything to them, as per the instructions from your boss, and carefully handed out the flutes of champagne. The royals prattled on in Durese, hardly paying you any mind, though the Prince did cast a glance up at you from the periphery of his vision. You bowed your head once more, and turned to leave.

You had never been more nervous in your life than you were now; with a tray of champagne flutes balanced in your hand, and the heel on your left shoe coming loose, you had to put the entirety of your focus onto your task at hand. It was a simple one, really - deliver the drinks to the Duros royal family, bow, and return back to the kitchen to fetch hors d'oeuvres. Simple. Easy. Yet the wobbling in your ankle frightened you. The last thing you needed was to drop the crystal flutes in front of everyone - or worse, on someone.

As you turned, you heard a loud snap, and your ankle buckled and rolled; you went down, your tray clattering to the floor. Conversations around you stopped, and the gazes of three royal families found you collapsed on the floor. A horrified blush crept up on your cheeks as you crawled toward your tray and gathered it up in your arms; you pulled off your shoes and slowly stood, pain blossoming from your ankle. You limped to the back room, and tossed your shoes straight into the garbage.

“What happened to you?” One of your coworkers, a pretty Rutian Twi’lek, asked, glancing down at your now bare feet and rapidly-swelling ankle.

“My fucking heel broke!”

“Oof, tough luck.” She shook her head as she kneeled down and prodded at your ankle. The pain was horrendous, but she didn’t look concerned. “It ain’t broken… I’ll see if I can get a wrap and some new shoes for you.”

“Thank you, Salicia.” You muttered as you sat down, propping your leg up on the seat beside you. Your other coworkers came and went, taking out drinks and snacks, and coming back with dishes and trash. They hardly spared you a glance. There was work to be done and attending to the weak link would only slow it down. You sighed softly as Salicia returned with a bandage and a pair of silken flats.

She sat beside you, gingerly lifting your leg to wrap your ankle. She was gentle, and the pressure of the bandage made it feel instantaneously better. When she had secured it in place, she handed you the pair of flats; colored a vibrant blue, the flats sported a winged lizard embroidered on each of the sides. The slippers clashed with your uniform, but it was better than nothing; you eased them on, and cast Salicia a glance.

“Queen Esmera gave these to me when she saw me asking the other girls. She saw you fall, said these would probably be more comfortable than anything we could offer.” She explained, her lekku tips curling up as she shrugged. “I think she may be fishing for a thank you… so… you might want to go out and tell her.”

“Alright.” You sighed as you stood and brought your tray back to the bar; the bartender noted you with a frown, but knew better than to say anything. “Can you get me seven glasses of your most expensive Phatrongi red? You can… add it to the party’s tab.”

“Did Queen Esmera give you those?” He asked, suspicion heavy in his voice. You glanced down at your shoes and nodded.

“Yep.”

“I suppose the wine is a ‘thank you’ to her.” He muttered, waiting for your nod, before continuing. “And you’re stroking her ego because…?”

“Because it’s the polite thing to do, I guess.” You shrugged, and he shook his head as he poured the thick, purple wine into the glasses.

“Yeah. Polite. And then they turn around and treat you like trash.”

“They’ve been nice to me so far.” You muttered as he helped stack the seven glasses of red wine onto your tray. Your departure toward Queen Esmera’s table was slow-going, as you didn’t want to risk tripping or putting undue stress on your ankle. Your coworkers were careful about not bumping into you, but there were a few close calls.

You made your way toward the Kyuzan Queen, careful to stand a distance away in case she turned her head to regard you; her ostentatious crown, constructed of metals and jewels and silken cloths, was large enough that it could sweep the wine right off your tray. That was the last thing you wanted.

She did, in fact, turn when she noticed you, and you breathed a small sigh of relief as her crown cleared your tray. She offered you a kind, mask-less smile, and you bowed your head respectfully in response.

“Thank you for your kindne-.”

And then it happened. You took a few step closer and the slippers caught on something - likely the queen’s dress. You tripped, and the tray of wine went flying; the wine splashed upon the Queen’s lap and onto the table. The princes and the King jumped back from the table as the wine spread out toward them. Your heart plummeted to the bottom of your chest, and you dropped to your knees at her side.

“I am so sorry.” Tears welled in your eyes. Salicia rushed over with towels, much sooner than you expected, and thrust one at you; she mopped up the table, apologizing to the princes, while you gingerly dabbed at the Queen’s dress. The red wine marred her white and gold gown, and you knew that the stain would never come out. “Please forgive me. Please. I’ll do whatever you want to make it up to you.”

The Queen gingerly patted your head as you dabbed at her gown; the weight of her ring-covered hand was rather comforting, and it did make you feel quite a bit better.

“There, there, Little One.” Her voice was honeyed and velvet-smooth, yet there was an imposing timbre deep beneath it, as if she knew and reveled in the power she had in this situation. “It was an accident, and these things happen. It is okay.”

“It is not okay!” The King’s booming voice startled you from the calmed stupor the Queen had put you in. Your gaze focused on the Queen’s dress as the party hall went quiet. “This insolent worm ruined your dress!”

“There is no reason to be upset. What is done is done.” Queen Esmera continued to pat your head reassuringly.

“There must be recompense!”

“Enough. You are causing a scene.” Her voice was even and steely, and her husband eased back down into his chair. The waves of rage radiating off the king made your skin crawl - he was one of those kings where the rumors of his temper far outshined any good he had done. There were numerous stories about girls being used and thrown in ditches after minor misdeeds. You hoped your employer would protect you from the likes of him… but that was no certainty. “The dress is ruined. I will call for a maid to bring me another.”

“I’m so sorry.” You repeated, and she tilted your chin up.

“That is enough, Little One. Now run along, okay?” She smiled sweetly, and you got up with your metaphorical tail between your legs. You limped back to the staging room, where you found a bench and collapsed onto it. Tears threatened to spill over, but you rubbed them away with the heels of your hands. You felt so foolish, so demeaned. The worst part of this, though, was that it was all your fault. No royal had made you spill the wine. No royal purposefully tripped you, nor did they break the heel from your shoe. It was your own insolence. You buried your head in your hands, a strangled sob leaving your lips.

Someone sat down on the bench beside you. You figured it was Salicia, until you noticed their scent - it was woodsy and entirely manish. You couldn’t think of anyone you knew who smelled like that. Curious, you spread your fingers open and peeked through them; sitting beside you was one of the Kyuzan Princes - the youngest of the four, whose name, you believed, was Embo. He cast you a glance, his browridge cocked.

“Oh! Uh…” You wiped your eyes on your hands, and then wiped your hands on your skirt. “Hello there, Prince.”

“You are in trouble.” He spoke, his voice unwavering and deeply serious. Your heart skipped a beat, and your stomach dropped.

“W-what?”

“My father is like a jungle cat chasing a rat. In his eyes, you wronged him, and he will not rest until you pay the price.” He explained, his voice low and conspiratory.

“But I didn’t do anything to him!” You squeaked.

“You embarrassed him, and my mother. He believes you made fools of them both before our allies.” Embo explained, his hands laced together and resting on his lap. “I came to offer my help. The last thing I want is for someone undeserving to be left in a ditch to die.”

“But you’re his son. How can I trust you?”

“Just know that I would rather see him dead than let any harm come to you.” He replied, his gold eyes narrowed and a small growl rumbling in his chest. You blinked at him, and then looked down at your hands. “And he knows better than to touch anything I lay claim to. If I tell him you are under my protection, he will not dare bother you.”

“I… wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“Nonsense. My family keeps a large staff already. We would hardly notice one more.”

Your gaze remained on your hands, your mind running a million miles a minute. If you didn’t take the Prince’s protection, what would happen to you? Would the king stoop to harming you? It seemed that if his own son was worried, the answer was likely yes. So it would be best to go with the prince then. What if he was lying? What if this was all some elaborate ruse to get you into bed with him, or worse?

“I’ll… need time to think.” You replied, your voice shaking.

“Of course. You have until the end of the night.” He got up, dusting off his expensive suit, and disappeared through the door which led back out to the main hall.

You sat there, still trying to process what was going on; the staff around you stared at you, either concerned or shocked that you had gotten so close to the Prince without mention of sexual activities. You glanced at them, before standing.

“I… I need to take a walk.”

No one stopped you as you slipped out the door into the main hall. The royals were all happily conversing, and you noted that Queen Esmera had, indeed, changed her dress. You ducked down the hallway to the front door, desperately needing some fresh air to help clear your head. Ugh, you had a headache.

The guards allowed you outside, and you sat down on the top step to gather your wits. The warm, humid Coruscant air caressed your bare skin, grounding you to reality. The ambience of the thousands of speeders and marching of armor-clad guards drowned out any sounds from the gala itself. You buried your head in your hands once more, just trying to think.

“You’ve got some shit luck tonight.”

You turned toward the intruder, noting that the Duros Prince was approaching; he had a lit cig between his fingers, and he took a long drag.

“First de heel, den sullying Queen Esmera’s dress…” He shook his head as he eased down onto the step beside you. He offered you the cig, but you declined. “What gods did ya anger?”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, shaking your head. Cad leaned back, perching the cig between his lips.

“I assume de big guy already warned ya?”

“About his dad? Yeah.” You answered, your worry rising again; it was one thing to hear about the danger from the King’s son… now you were hearing it from an unrelated royal? Great….

“Den ya know you’ll need t’ low ‘til he comes t’ his sense, right?”

You nodded at this. “Prince Embo offered to let me stay with him.”

“Did he now? Doesn’t seem quite safe t’ be going back to de same home as yer threat.” He mused as he took a drag of his cig. “I came t’ offer de same thing.”

“Why?” You asked, wary of Cad’s intentions.

“Well, King Triakt has no domain over me and my family. And messing wit’ us could end badly fer him.” Cad drawled as he plucked the cig from his lips and flicked the ashes off of the end.

“Seems like a lot of trouble for someone you don’t know.”

“I don’t know ya but dat doesn’t mean I can’t extend some kindness.” He took a long drag of his cig.

“What’s the price?” You asked, watching his lips twitch into a small smirk.

“I don’ know yet. We’ll figure dat out as we go.” Cad smothered the cig beneath his boot. “Whaddya say?”

“I… need to think about it.”

“Sure, sure. When you make up yer mind, come find me.” He winked at you and stood, straightening out his outfit. He sauntered back inside, leaving you alone in your thoughts. Now, you just had to decide who to go with...

Who do you choose? Embo or Cad Bane

Tags List: @justanotherstarwarswhore, @doctor-ren, @that-clone-wars-girl, @some-serendipity-snail

#embo #cad bane #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #iri writes #my fanfiction

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yoonia · 4 years

Text

Strip! (M) | 03 - final

Bad For You: Strip! - A Spin-Off

⇢ Character | Jimin x reader

⇢ Genre | Stripper!au, Stripper!Jimin, Bartender!reader, Single parent!au, Smut, Angst,

⇢ Rating | 18+, Mature content

⇢ Word Count | 14,300 words

⇢ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?

⇢ Warning | involving scenes of nudity, stripping/strip dance scenes, explicit sex scene, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sexual intercourse, lots of dirty talk (because Jimin has a bit of a foul mouth but he’s trying to be nice about it).

⇢ Music companion | Close To Me - Eloy & Mamie, Regi Flih - Strip

⇢ Fic Masterlist | Main Masterlist | ⤎ Previous Chapter

It feels like the whole room has fallen into a hush as the light dims.

But just like any other nights at the club, silence never becomes a permanent part of the main floor for too long as the attraction never dies until the night ends. And that is exactly what happens, when the room darkens only for a mere minute before it is soon awakened like a rising inferno.

Wails of sirens blasting from the speakers and the beat of the music starts. It sounds daunting, slow, sultry, in complete contrast to the sound of the sirens before the bass pulses like a heartbeat.

Fire, bright red flames come flashing out at the edge of the stage, before the thick, white smoke appears.

Gasping sounds from the audience echo through the room as the smoke comes alive, crawling from the front and back of the stage before it stretches out across the podium and onto the crowd like a flowing wave.

Stage lights pulse along with the dancing flames to the sound of the music.

Everything is happening all at once that it becomes awfully disorienting yet somewhat thrilling that you could feel your heartbeat rising just as the pulsing beat increases its rhythm.

Then through the blanket of smoke, tall and dark figures start to appear. The smoke clears its way for the one at the center at first, before the second and third person emerge through the smoke and two others appear at the edge of the stage. Five male dancers, all donning their identical firemen coats in dark red and black, each and one of them appearing with their tops halfway unbuttoned to show all the chiselled chests and taut muscles as they all walk to the front of the stage, dark smudges of black ink aligned on their cheeks.

Women’s loud shrieks and squeals replace the fading sound of the sirens as Wonho takes the center spot and rips open his top coat, revealing his bulging pecs and glistening abs to the crowd. His gloved hand makes a slow trail down the center of the stomach while he lowers himself, bending his knees while moving his hips in circles, his other hand reaching up to run his fingers through his messy hair. Cupping himself through his pants, he thrusts his hips with each drop of the beat while staring straight into the crowd as he takes off the glove on his other hand, pulling one finger at a time with the bite of his teeth.

“You know,” Ten’s voice breaks through the loud noises surrounding you as he whispers close. “I can never truly understand women’s attraction to firemen.”

Having your focus broken by his statement, you let out a bark of laughter. “I think it’s the attraction to men in uniforms that women most likely have. Though in all honesty, I don’t get the appeal either. Men in uniforms tend to give me bad mojo.”

Ten shakes his head and scoffs. “Oh, come on. We all know you only feel that way cause you’ve had your eyes attached to a certain pretty boy who won’t even keep his ’uniform’ on for too long,” he teases you with a wink before he walks over to the other side of the bar where a few young ladies are calling him to order a drink.

As Ten walks away, you turn your attention back on the stage just as the group of five dancers drop themselves on the ground along with the beat.

Watching the performance, you cannot help but admit that they are putting up such a good show. And it is not only doing its good deed for the audience alone.

After spending the past two weeks nursing your baby daughter at home, coming to work early every night while Suri was taking her naps at Mrs. Shim’s apartment then coming back home before ten at night so you could be there for her to tuck her into bed, getting to work for a full shift for the first time to the monthly special group performance tonight is bringing your whole mind and body back to life.

Tonight is the first night you will be able to work with a peace of mind, knowing that Suri has gotten much better and is already back in her usual mood. You have sacrificed work to be by her side at night in case she would wake up in pain, and after two weeks, she has been able to sleep peacefully at night and had gained more vigour that you felt ready to get back on your routines.

You have made sure to hand over everything to Mrs. Shim so you could stay a bit longer at work tonight, though not without some difficulties. Even if the difficulties had come from yourself more than it did from Suri nor Mrs. Shim. During the time Suri had been sick, you had turned out to be the one getting clingy to your daughter. Having spent more time with her has been a blessing in disguise that you found it hard to leave home earlier tonight.

The only reprieve that finally managed to convince you to leave was Bom’s message which reminded you about the special group dance at tonight’s show.

The group dance has always invited more crowd when the time comes for it. Being able to have the perfect seat for the show while tending the bar is just an extra icing on the top. And watching them have fun on stage as they seduce the crowd tonight certainly makes you feel like the boys are celebrating the night with you.

Looking past Wonho who has stepped over from the stage to give his special solo for the table at the front, you are pleased to find Taeyong keeping up at the other side of the floor.

For the past few weeks alone, he has won over the hearts of women that the club had even garnered new regulars who have been coming back just to see him dance. A few of them are now sitting at the table where he is currently giving his solo to.

You watch him with a smile as he is dancing with his hands crossed at the back of his head, moving his hips in circles for his overzealous fans who have their hands reaching out to touch his bare chest.

On the stage, you see Jungkook dancing with the pole. His coat has been tossed somewhere on the stage and his unzipped pants now hanging by his hips as he humps against the steel pole. On the other side, Taehyung is there, lowering himself on the ground as he peels his coat off of his body, throwing his sly grin at the woman at the front who is trying to slip a bill through the waistband of his pants.

Just as the boy drops himself down on the stage to start humping against the stage floor, a movement catches your eyes from the nearest part of the stage. You turn your gaze in an instant, looking away from the other dancers, just in time to see Jimin pulling a chair closer to him, making the woman who is sitting on it squeal in shock and her face instantly turns red when Jimin starts shaking his hips.

His top is no longer attached to his body and his unzipped pants are already hanging halfway down his hips. Every line on his body — from his chest to his stomach down to the V line that disappears beneath the waistline of his tight briefs — flows along with every movement he makes as he rolls his hips to the music.

As if he could feel your gaze on him, Jimin turns his eyes towards the bar, catching your eyes with his dark gaze that is filled with lust the minute he sees it in yours. Keeping his eyes on you, he grips the back of the chair with one hand and runs the other down his bare skin. His hand stops at his crotch, then he starts humping, thrusting his hips in slow, yet firm motion.

Watching him dance, you despise the fact that there is another woman who is enjoying his performance up close and you are too far out of reach. But as you bite your lips, holding back the moans that are pushing through as your jealousy and desire pulse through your body, you can catch his eyes looking down on your lips, before his gaze follows your tongue as it slips out to slide along your bottom lip out of hunger.

His gaze snaps back up as he gives the last few thrusts, sending you an intense look in his eyes when his lips move, mouthing the words that would suddenly drive your mind to replace the image of the woman sitting on that chair with the image of yourself in your head as you watch him perform—

“Only. You.”

A whimper escapes from the depth of your throat as your back hits the wall, but the sound is muffled as Jimin drowns every noise you are making with his lips.

You cannot even bother to care about the sting of pain on your back from the impact when he keeps distracting you, pressing his lips harder against yours. Your mind is muddled as you are lost in the kiss that has been going on for a while now and it keeps getting more intense ever since he had ambushed you in the backroom after his stage earlier.

Lips sucking, teeth clashing, and tongue dancing, until your mind is filled with haze and your body feels like on fire. Your hands clutching tight on his back and through his hair, holding him close as you return the kiss with vigour. While his hands are doing just the same, one that is cupping at the back of your head, tilting you up for him to devour you, while the other is holding you up in place as it is pressed against the small of your back.

Moans after moans keep rumbling from your throat with soft gasps as air becomes limited, while his grunts vibrate from deep inside his chest. Yet there is no sign of either of you stopping.

Your body has been feeling hot since you watched him perform earlier, when he danced for the woman while he was making you imagine that he was doing the dance to you.

You are the one to pull away first the moment it becomes too much and you feel the need for air. But Jimin still refuses to let go. He latches his lips on your jawline first, tracing his kisses along your chin before trailing down to your neck.

It takes you a moment before you could clear your mind a little and find your voice again, to finally be able to speak, to talk about what it was that you had been thinking to say to him when you asked to meet him after his dance.

“Are you free this week? Friday, maybe?” you ask him breathlessly, yet Jimin still won’t stop kissing the nape of your neck that you are not sure if he had heard you. It takes him a beat of silence and a few more kisses to respond.

“I’m free. I will make sure of it. I’ll slide every plan and schedule aside when it comes to you,” he says between his kisses. Then he pulls back, just slightly, only so he could press his forehead on yours and look at you when he asks, “What do you have in mind?”

“Come—ah, fuck!” Jimin surprises you by dipping down and licking his way up the side of the neck before nipping at your earlobe. His chuckle rumbles through his chest as he feels you shivering to his touch. Wanting no distraction, you gently push him back to make him stop, which he finally does, but not without giving you a sly, satisfied grin after knowing what he did.

After exhaling a deep breath, you finally manage to speak more calmly, and less distracted when you say to him, “Come to my house? I can make you some dinner. We haven’t had a chance to cover for our failed date, remember? And I feel like I still owe you a date after missing the last one and also a dinner to thank you for what you’ve done to help us when Suri got sick.”

At the mention of your daughter’s name, his eyes grow soft. “Will Suri be there?”

You feel elated that he would care enough to ask about your daughter. You haven’t failed to notice how much he does care about her, however, for he has been doing such a good job of showing it ever since that night in the hospital. He had stayed all through the night with you while she was in the NICU. You had both waited together until Suri was awake and he was there to listen to all the lab report with you while holding your hand tight.

He had also been showing it for the past few weeks, either calling regularly on the phone to know how you and your daughter have been doing or dropping by at your home randomly to play with Suri on his free time. Even your daughter has been infatuated by his presence after that night. The unicorn plushie that Jimin had given her the day she was released from the hospital has only left your daughter’s hands during bath time.

The girl adores the fluffy unicorn just as much as she adores her ‘Uncle Chimmy’ that she would carry the thing around every day and every night and would have it seated next to her while she is in front of the TV or when she is having her meal, and it would be clutched in her tiny hands during her sleep.

“Actually,” you look up to him with a smile, and start running your hand down from his shoulders to his chest while speaking, “I was thinking that maybe Mrs. Shim could skip her AlpaGo night to watch her. So it would be just you and me. I can make us some lasagna and any other pasta dish you’d like, or I could make any of your favourite dish. Then we can open a bottle of wine and spend the night—” you bite your lips, teasing him with a small grin before continuing, “—talking.”

Jimin raises his brows. “Talk?”

“Or watch some Netflix and chill a little, or play cards, I don’t know. Whatever you want to do,” you say to him, shrugging while feigning your innocence by looking away and acting shy.

“I’ll take anything you offer,” Jimin says, cupping your chin to have you looking up to him. “I’m okay with doing the Netflix and chill thing with you. Or we could just skip ahead to chilling.”

“Of course, you would,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him while he only grins. “So, will this Friday be okay?”

With a smile on his face, Jimin leans down to you, brushing his lips against yours as he whispers, “It’s a date,” then continues to kiss you, again, and again, until he steals your breath yet once again as the kiss grows even more intense and much deeper than it did before.

Friday night.

You have dropped Suri at Mrs. Shim right after her supper and medicine time, not forgetting to bring her unicorn friend to keep her company while she is staying at the neighbour’s place. Then you spent the next hour getting ready, all while fixing up dinner, to which you were grateful to have gotten Suri out of the place before you started running around like a rabbit on fire.

You are halfway ready for the dinner. The side dishes, appetisers, and the homemade pie for dessert are all set to go. All that is left is the main dish.

After going through the past two years splitting your days between taking the role of a single mother with a growing baby daughter and jumping between jobs, you have never really had time to cook a whole course meal. You have had to rely mostly on frozen food and takeouts, which the moment you realised that this would be the first time you are inviting another person into your home for dinner, serving a plate of frozen lasagna from your microwave on a first date seems disrespectful.

So you had made everything from scratch, completely forgetting the fact that any meal from fresh ingredients, though tastes wonderful, would take more time and effort to make.

Looking over between the microwave oven, the clock on the wall, and the front door, you are growing restless as you wait for the lasagna to cook. Your palms have grown clammy as you wait, and you are starting to question if this whole thing has been a terrible idea.

Next time, just go meet up at a diner. The cheapest one. Or just order Chinese takeouts.

You keep cursing inside your head the whole time, wishing that you have thought things through before inviting him here. Then you nearly squeal and celebrate the moment the oven dings — right at the same time as the front doorbell is ringing.

“Fuck,” you curse out under your breath while slipping your hand into a mitten. “I’ll be there in a minute!” you shout out to the door, before reaching to the cooked meal, pulling it out of the oven while praying and hoping that you haven’t burned it like you did on your first try.

Only after you have made sure that the meal looks fine, not looking burnt, and is now safe and sound on the kitchen counter, you toss the mitten aside and run to the door.

After rubbing your clammy hands against your skirt and taking a quick last look on the mirror by the door to make sure that everything else is looking presentable at most, you finally open the door.

At the other side of the doorway, Jimin standing like the gorgeous man that he is, looking terribly attractive in his navy blue shirt and tight jeans. He looks up at you with wide eyes when he notices that you have pulled the door open. And it appears that you may have caught him in the middle of running his fingers through his hair, since he has one hand stopping right at the top of his head while the other is carrying a bouquet of white petal flowers.

“Wow, you look lovely,” he mutters as he walks up to you. Wrapping his now free arm around your waist, he pulls you closer and leans down to give a soft kiss on your cheek. “And smell lovely too.”

His words make you laugh, and all the tension in your body slowly dissipates now that he is here. “Are you saying that I smell like baked goods and meat?”

He chuckles. “That, and a mixture of your natural sweet scent that I’ve missed so much.”

“Come in,” you say to him as you invite him in while hiding your burning cheeks. He follows you inside after handing over the flowers, and you continue to avoid his gaze though you could sense him looking around as he walks close behind you.

You still avoid his eyes as you let him sit at the dining table while you handle his flowers. Only once you are sitting right across the table with the meal between you, you finally start talking to him again.

“I should probably let you know—” you begin to say, biting your lips for a moment when the nerves are taking over you. “It has been a while since I did something like this,” you admit to him, before waving your hand between you and him when you see the question in his eyes. “You know, a date. I mean, I haven’t been in an actual date for quite a long time.”

Jimin only smiles at you with his gaze turning soft. “I know. We’re in the same shoes on that part,” he says, chuckling nervously as he holds back from explaining further. Though you could roughly guess what he meant by it, recalling how he had told you that he had not been in any relationship for a while now. “Let’s take it one step at a time and see where this goes, okay?”

The dinner becomes more pleasant right after sharing the small confessions, once you have gotten it all out of your chest and let him know what you are feeling. And as Jimin digs into the meal, you are relieved to find that the food you have made isn’t too bad at all.

You had doubted it at first, almost believing that Jimin’s compliment for your cooking might be nothing but white lies, until you take a bite of the cooked meal and find it completely edible.

“How is your daughter doing?” Jimin asks you at the end of the dinner, as he is digging into the apple pie you had made as a simple dessert.

As always, the concern he has for your daughter is enough to make you smile. “She’s doing great. We went to the doctor again earlier today and he didn’t find anything worth worrying about. Just the fact that she’s been having a hard time sleeping and resting at night when I wasn’t there with her is making her tiny body growing a bit frail.”

Your lips fall into a thin line when you recall what the doctor had said, that your absence during the hours she is supposed to be resting by your side might have been one of the many factors which had caused her to get sick so easily. That fact alone had led you to consider taking a break from work, if only you have another way to pay the rent.

Unless you take Mrs. Shim’s offer about that job with her son.

While you fall silent with your thoughts, Jimin reaches out to grab your hand across the table.

“You’ll figure out what to do, don’t worry too much about it, alright?”

Squeezing his hand, you could only sigh defeatedly. “I cannot help but worry when it comes to my baby.”

Jimin leaves his seat all of a sudden, then grabs you by the waist to lift you up from yours. He moves swiftly that you barely register it happening until he slowly sits back down, taking you with him so he can set you to sit on his lap. His straightforwardness has caught you off guard for a moment. But you let yourself relax a bit more when he pulls your back to his chest and holds you close.

“A good mother will always worry about her child. You’ve done such a great job with her so far, and you have me now,” he says, making your heart flutter to his words. “You’re no longer alone, alright? Everything is going to be okay.”

Turning to him, you give him a smile and rest your head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” you whisper to him, sighing deeply as he lands a kiss on the top of your head.

Jimin falls silent for a moment, enjoying the way you feel in his arms while letting you melt into his embrace. But then you feel his heartbeat races before he breathes in and speaks, “I’d have to ask—” he says, stopping briefly as he grows hesitant for a moment. “You don’t have to tell me this. But do you mind telling me where her father is?”

Swallowing the lump growing in your throat, you have to admit that you had been expecting him to ask, though you never would have thought that he was going to ask you this soon. You keep your face hidden from him when you answer him. “He didn’t want anything to do with Suri. He was having a good year in university and was getting all the good grades when we were dating. He told me that he had a good future to focus on and he refused to give it all up to be with his daughter. He didn’t even bother to care that I had to give up mine.”

Jimin tightens his hold around you. “It’s his lost,” he says, lowering his voice to hide his anger, even if you can feel it vibrating in his chest. Then he exhales deeply, turning you slightly on his lap so he could look at your eyes.

“Suri is amazing. And so are you,” he says, allowing the dam of tears in your eyes to break down slowly, and he stops it by giving you a gentle kiss. “You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

Smiling against his lips, you cannot find any other words to say to him but the two simple words you have been meaning to say to him ever since he welcomed Suri into his life, all while slowly coaxing you to open the door to your heart for him.

“Thank you.”

Once dinner was done, you moved things to the living room where you could sit next to him on your small couch and continue the heart to heart talk with a bottle of cold beer in his hand and a glass of wine in yours.

You just finished talking to him about a few pieces of your past, how you had chosen Suri over your family, and how you had found your way to this part of the city and ended up working at the club. It is now his time to share his part of the story, of how he had ended up in this place and how he had started dancing.

“I was broke and felt completely lost after leaving school,” he says, right after he had told you how he entered a community college right out of high school only to find himself jobless right after graduating. “I did some office work and felt like it wasn’t for me, and even tried a few things in between but nothing seemed to work out. I was doing a part-time job in a local auto shop when I met Taehyung. We clicked right away, found out that we both loved dancing and we loved showing off and performing. So when we heard about the audition for the club, we went together for it and that was it.”

“That’s some soul-searching journey you got there,” you muse softly while looking up to him, while Jimin only chuckles lowly.

“I bet you it was. I’ve never felt more alive than when I am dancing on the stage. The other things that had come along with it are just some bonus points to enjoy while it lasted.”

The mention of ‘the other things’ which he had gained through his line of job leaves a bitter taste in your tongue that has you pulling back and pouting. “Bonus points, hmm? Where does that leave me then?” you ask him, hating the fact that your jealousy would be so easy to take over whenever you are reminded to his player side. A side that you have yet to know if he would ever return to.

Jimin looks at you with a knowing gaze before pulling you back to him. Just like he did last time, he lifts you up from the couch to have you seated on his lap again. Only this time, he makes you sit facing him with your legs spread, straddling his thighs so he can look straight into his eyes when he speaks, “A prize to win at the end? Who knows?” he says, shrugging, clearly having no idea just yet on to what the future holds. All he ever knows is that he wants to be with you, that much he has been so honest about so far. “All I know is that I find it a blessing to find you. I can never stop thinking about you no matter what I do and I regret not giving in to what my gut kept telling me to do. At this moment, I’m just so thankful that you are giving me another chance.”

Even if it isn’t much, you still feel pleased to hear his words. Pleased enough to let him pull you in, bringing your head down so he can kiss your lips.

Cupping his face with your smaller hands, you hold him as you kiss him with everything you have, letting all your emotions to flow out through it to have him feel what you are feeling for him. You can feel his hand cradling you at the back of your neck, his fingers getting entangled in your hair, while the other is moving down to hold you tight on your hip.

In that moment, you want nothing more than to just sink into him, to become one with him and feel him much closer than he already is. As you move your hips forward, pressing your center right on top of the stiffness growing under his jeans, you are quick to be reminded of how it felt to be one with him, to have him inside you.

A rush of heat rises up through your body that you instinctively move your hips, swivelling your body down against his crotch to rub the throbbing need building between your legs to his covered bulge. He groans to the touch, letting you know how much the movement is affecting him, before you feel his hand moving down from your hip to cup your ass, pressing his fingers onto your covered skin to press your body closer to him.

Feeling hot, needy, and suddenly running out of air with the increasing desire burning inside you, you pull back abruptly to inhale deeply.

Jimin has his eyes closed for a moment when you look at his face. The moment he opens them, they are dark and hazy, the desire he is feeling is clear in them just as it does within you. Smiling to him, you feel him chuckling deeply as you brush your lips lightly to his.

“What do you say about changing up a pace?” you whisper to him once you are able to relax. No matter how badly you want to be with him tonight, you want to take things a bit slowly, perhaps tease him a little to make this night worth it.

Grinning, Jimin cups your chin and nips your jawline, teasingly, while whispering, “What do you have in mind? Netflix?”

Chuckling, you shake your hand and reach out to the small table at the side of the couch, retrieving the small package that you had prepared earlier. “I was thinking somewhere along the line of a card game.”

“A card game?” Jimin raises his brows, before looking down to watch you pull out a deck of cards from the small box. Looking up to your eyes, his gaze is now filled with mischief as he gives you a sly grin. “Well, I guess it depends on what kind of game we’re playing.”

“I’m not too good at this, but—” you stop, biting your lips before asking, “How does poker sound?”

Jimin chuckles. “As long as you can make it fun. What are we betting?”

Pushing yourself off of his lap, though you instantly regret the distance the moment you sit back right beside him, you feel the excitement humming through your body to what you are about to show him.

“Oh, I bet you wouldn’t say no if I tell you about it.”

“Go ahead, show me what you got.”

Jimin’s lips curl up into a smirk as he starts shuffling the deck of cards in his hands. His gaze runs down your body, looking confident as he is giving you a look of perusal at the state of your dress — or undress, in this matter.

You were not lying when you told him that you are not so great at poker. But he did find the pleasure of knowing what you are betting on in this game and the prize he is getting at the end if he should win.

“Loser takes one item of their clothing off on each turn,” you offered him before you started, and his eyes glazed with mischief almost instantly.

“But what happens once there’s no more to take off?” Jimin challenged you right after. You could tell that he was biting his grin even as he pressed his lips tight when he was speaking.

“Then the winner takes all. The loser has to grant the winner’s wish as a gift,” you told him then. You had expected to have your voice come out firm enough to challenge him back, yet the intensity in his eyes forced you to look away and it made you nearly regretting to try to sound so brazen when you clearly were not.

But Jimin pinched at your chin then, and gently tilted your face up to look at him when he said, “I’m in.”

Looking at you now, it is quite obvious that Jimin has the better hand in poker.

Pun intended.

Even with Jimin giving you a leeway by letting you start by taking off pieces by tiny pieces off of your body on your first few losses — starting from the pins in your hair, down to your jewelries before finally getting to your clothes — you are now down in your underthings while he had only lost his socks, his leather belt, and his shirt.

And it has only been a little over an hour since you started playing.

Even those losses of his had been deliberately done, you believe, knowing that he keeps going terribly easy on you instead of rushing for the win.

“Are you challenging me now?” Jimin asks you as he splits the cards. “You were the one who lost on the last round.”

“Do you see me giving up?” you ask him with your brows raised. Jimin only chuckles at your sudden confidence. The confidence that suddenly fades the moment you look at the cards in your hands.

Damn it.

“Something wrong?” Jimin teases. You watch him closely and you can easily tell that he is holding back his knowing grin, as if you are easy to read and he could tell the panic rising in your chest just by looking at you.

“Nothing. Just trying to decide on how I’m going to make you lose that pants of yours this time,” you respond to him, deciding to go against accusing him of deliberately sending all the bad cards your way.

“Getting cocky, are we?” he says, chuckling as he glances up from his cards to you. “Are you really that eager to strip me?”

Warmth comes flushing to your cheeks when your gaze is met with his mischievous one and you bashfully look away. “Oh, shut up.”

He stops teasing you as the game continues, only throwing you a few quick glances and grins as if he could already tell that luck is still on his side.

The game runs slowly, as if he is deliberately stalling the time to see what you are about to do to have your win. Moments have passed, cards had been dealt, and only when he finally notices you giving up when he shows his cards to claim his win.

“Royal flush,” he gently says, though the cocky tone in his voice is still there when he speaks to you with a winning smile on his face.

“Damn it,” you sigh as you place your cards on the table downwards, hiding the messy set that you had created. “I fold. The cards hate me.”

Jimin laughs softly at that. “Or perhaps you’re just out of luck,” he says. “Now, what do I get for my win?”

He leans back on the couch, crossing his arms across his chest while smiling at you, looking pretty pleased with himself. Deciding to play a little, you stand up from your seat and walks up to him. He has his legs spread apart and you take the chance to stand between them, facing him so you could give him a little show. His eyes follow your movements as you slowly reach back to unhook your bra.

Keeping your eyes on him, you watch how his hands are clenching tight on top of his thighs, holding himself back from touching you, and you have to ignore the way the muscles on his arms are flexing each time his grip grows tighter. His chest rises and falls, his breath is heavy, and your hands keep moving slowly, taking your time to tease him by slipping one strap off of your shoulder before doing the same with the other. You had turned on your audio device when you had just started playing earlier, just to fill in the silence and help ease the tension as you were playing, and you follow the slow rhythm of the music as you move your hands.

His eyes move to your arm when you cross one of them over your breast, holding up your bra before it could fall. Instead of fulfilling his wish too easily by stripping down in front of him, you turn around and give your back to him. You look over your shoulder, giving him a wink and a sly grin, then finally peel your bra off of your skin and toss it over to his lap.

“Tease,” he says, chuckling while he watches you making your way back to your seat, swaying your hips a little to taunt him. He takes your bra in his hands, bringing it to his mouth before he makes a dramatic gesture of breathing in your scent. “Do I get to keep this?”

“Only if you win the final hand,” you tell him, and the promise seems to spur him on as he pushes it down his pocket and reaches for the cards.

“I’d be happy to help take off the last piece of your clothing when I win our last game,” he says, looking at you with a cocky smile while he shuffles the card.

“Oh, you would love that, wouldn’t you?” you scoff while shaking your head. Your heart thrums rapidly in your chest when his eyes trail down, stopping right where you are crossing your arms across your bare breasts.

“You don’t have to cover yourself, you know?”

You raise a questioning brow at him. “And why shouldn’t I?”

“It’s not like I’ve never seen them either, am I right?” you can feel your blood rushing up to your neck and face when you understand what his words are implying, and the blood continues to rush lower, straight into your core when you are brought back to the night you were with him months ago. Jimin’s chuckle eases you a little, even if it is only showing you that he had caught on to your reaction and to what his words are doing to you. Giving you a smug smile, he then adds, “Besides, you’ve been staring at my chest for almost an hour. It will only be fair.”

The simple tease he gives you has you laughing and the rising desire that had been brimming inside you slowly lessens. “I think I like making you wait for a little while longer before you can take a better look at my girls.”

“Is that so?” he chuckles. “We’ll see about that.”

Jimin draws the cards and you keep your eyes on him, looking for something on his expression that would perhaps tell you everything you need to know about the chances you may have for winning. He is good at keeping his expression calm and steady even when he does have a set of bad cards in hand. Even now, he has his full attention on his cards while still looking pleased as if he is winning. His eyes are sharp as he snaps his gaze back and forth between you and the cards in his hands and his small smile appears every time he draws out a card from the table.

But as minutes go by, you can finally see a hint of uncertainty sparkling briefly in his eyes as he deals his card, and that is when you realise that you have the upper hand this time. You confirm it only five minutes later after drawing a few more cards and you make your final bet.

“Four of a kind,” you softly whisper, suddenly feeling insecure when you cannot even tell if it would be good enough or if his card would be a lot better.

“That’s a good one. Better than mine,” he says while laying down his cards. Which is indeed showing you his lost. “Well then, unlike someone, I am generous enough to even give you a little private show as I take these off,” he adds, gesturing his hand down his pants as he pushes himself up from the couch.

Your heartbeat starts pacing a bit faster when you realise that he is moving closer to you. You take a deep breath to steady yourself when you ask him, “Are you going to dance for me while you’re doing it, Park Jimin?”

As if on cue, the song coming from your audio device turns into a soft tune similar to what the club would usually play during his slow dancing. Judging from the way his eyes are sparkling the moment he notices it happening, and the small grin appearing on the corner of his lips, you already know the answer to your question before he could even confirm it himself.

“Don’t you love it when I dance for you?” he says, lowering his voice while at the same time, he starts moving along with the music playing in the background. “We’re almost at the finale, anyway, so why not give you something extra to motivate you so you could win the last hand?”

Jimin starts by swaying his hips a little. Keeping his hands down, he rolls his body to the rhythm of the music, making the lines on his toned stomach and chest move fluidly like a ripple. His smile slowly grows when he notices exactly where your gaze has landed on, how you are watching his body move with rapt attention.

“Are you only going to watch?” he asks with his cocky grin plastered on his face, and you slowly move your eyes from his bare skin to meet his eyes. “You’re allowed to touch, you know. You’ve earned it.”

You bite your lips and act like you are taking the time to think about it for a moment. The offer sounds too tempting to refuse, after all. After those nights of watching him perform and picturing yourself running your fingers down those lines as he rolls and flexes them in his dance, the desire to bring your imagination to life comes stronger than you realise.

Shaking your head, you lean back instead.

“I’d rather take my time and wait until later,” you taunt him with your hands crossed over your breasts. “Please continue.”

Jimin chuckles softly. “As you wish,” he says while his hands move up, then he latches his fingers together at the back of his neck. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”

Your words of retort are caught in your throat when he arches back. He plants one leg up on the side of your seat to position his crotch closer and have it right in front of your face. As the beat of the music turns sultry, he swivels his hips slowly to it, humping at the air as if he is trying to make love to your face.

His sinful moves drive your breath to grow heavy with desire and you could barely keep your arms to cover yourself anymore when your whole body grows slack with need. You move one of your hands down to your side where you clench tightly at the edge of your seat, while the other is starting to hold on tighter around your bare chest, with your nails nearly sinking into your own skin.

Jimin continues to roll his hips, giving a few hard thrusts each time he swivels his hips to your face, each time sending heat spurring inside your core, wishing to have him there. You catch his eyes moving down to your heaving chest, watching your breasts rising and falling under the safety of your arm with dark lust in his gaze.

You watch how his tongue slips out and he slowly drags it along his lips. There are no words needed to make you understand what he is thinking, just how you cannot possibly put on words on what he is doing to your body even without touching. Which is something that is not entirely new, when he practically does the same almost every night you watch him perform on stage. Except that tonight, he is performing solely for you, with your tiny living room as the stage and you are the one sitting with his crotch presented right in front of your glossy eyes instead of any bachelorette celebrating their last night of freedom.

The more he thrusts his hips forward, the more you can feel your core pulsing and flexing rhythmically in sync, heat and desire building strong from your center and rising to erupt through your whole body, your arousal flooding unceremoniously that you have to press your thighs together to keep him from catching it pooling right at the center of your thin panties.

It is not making it any easier for you to keep your desire intact when you can clearly see the evidence of his own desire poking through the tightness of his jeans, when the prominent lines of his bulge is right there in front of you, summoning for your attention to stay there where you wish you could reach out and touch.

A movement catches your eyes and you look up, just as he slowly runs his hands down his bare chest. The tips of his fingers are tracing down his lines as he makes his way down to the waistband of his pants. He slips his thumbs through the waistline, running them to the middle as he reaches for the button on his jeans.

“Want to give me a little hand with this?” he asks you cheekily with a grin, one which you return with your own when you answer,

“Can’t exactly undress you with one hand now, can I?”

Jimin laughs a little and tugs off the button himself before he lets his hands drop to his side. “There,” he says. “I took care of the hardest part for you.”

Biting your bottom lip as you look up to meet his gaze, you reach out with your free hand to grab onto his waistband. Instead of reaching to his zipper your fingers, you lean forward, catching the puller with your lips and slowly pull it down with the bite of your teeth.

You hear him cursing under his breath, but the sound is muffled under the loud pounding of your heartbeat. You try your best not to push forward and have your lips touching his covered shaft, yet being just this close is enough to have your body all burning up. You can feel his body shivering each time your breath unintentionally falls onto his bulge, while your own body reacts instinctively at the same time. Your thighs are now shaking with how much your core is pulsing for him and for holding back so much, and you can feel your nipples hardening against the skin of your arm.

You are quick to lean back the moment his zipper is opened wide, slowly taking a deep breath to cool yourself down even if you can still feel your face flushing with warmth. Jimin’s own face is completely red, yet it is the darkness in his eyes that catches your eyes, one that shows you how much you have pushed him right on the edge.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans breathlessly. “God, I’ll never be able to get that out of my head.”

“Good. That only means you’ll think about me all the time,” you whisper to him. You tug the waistband of his jeans down with one hand and he stands back, helping you do it by pushing his tight jeans down his legs until he is down in only his black boxer briefs.

Once he is done, he tosses the pants away carelessly and keeps his focus still on you. Jimin leans forward and places both of his hands on the back of your seat so he can hover on top of you. “Do you want to continue the game?” he asks you softly, his voice is heavy with lust as he speaks and you can feel each word sending vibration inside you, as if every inch of your body is purring with his voice. “Or should we take it somewhere else?”

A part of you wants it so badly to say yes. To let him pull you to somewhere more private as you continue on to the next step. But you are enjoying this pushing and pulling too much to let it end so quickly.

“Hmmm—not yet,” you tell him while brushing the tip of your nose against his. “One more. One last time. Winner takes all.”

“As you wish,” he whispers, before he plants a kiss right at the top of your head and walks away. He gives you a sly grin as he looks over his shoulder, as if he could feel your eyes following the way his barely covered bottom moves as he is slowly walking off.

Jimin is still breathless as he returns to his seat and starts gathering the cards, but his cocky grin is there. Your head is spinning with how every sense you have are humming in need that you barely pay attention even as he shuffles the cards with his shaking hands, or when he draws them out between the two of you.

It seems that, just like you, Jimin is not having it any better either, when he can barely focus and keeps dealing the cards impatiently as if he just wants the game to be over soon.

“Your turn,” you whisper to Jimin after a couple of turns have passed, urging him to draw a card. He keeps his eyes on you as he pulls one card from the deck, taking only seconds as he starts arranging his own cards before he places them back on the table. All facing downwards.

“Fold,” he says, not even looking at the cards when he leans back. “I think I’m out of my luck. There is no point on insisting to win with bad cards, is there?”

You know him well enough to believe that he had only done it on purpose. But you decide not to call him out on it when you barely had your mind on the game at all. So all you do next is place the cards back onto the table, then make your way to his seat.

Jimin has his back resting on the backside of the couch as he watches you walking towards him. His legs are spread apart, as if he is expecting you to stand between them so you would be close enough to do whatever you want to. Instead of doing what he is expecting to see, you climb onto the couch with him, planting your knees on either side of his thighs so you could straddle his lap. Running your fingers down his sweaty chest, you keep your eyes looking straight into his as you give him a small smile, “Then it’s time to claim my prize.”

Jimin licks his lips just as his eyes grow dark. “And what do you wish to win, pretty girl?”

Your heartbeat keeps racing inside your chest that you could barely get the word out when you whisper, “You.”

“Is that so?” he chuckles deeply and reaches out to hold you by your waist. “Then I am all yours. What do you want me to give you first?”

You look down, perusing down his body to admire his beauty, from his bare chest down to his boxers that become the last thing getting in the way. His eyes move down to follow your gaze, yet you look up to him again and smile, “Kiss me.”

Jimin raises a questioning brow at you but says nothing. Using his strong arm, he pulls you closer to his chest then uses the other hand to pull your head down, enough to have him catch your lips in his. The first touch of his lips comes gently, a barely-there brush until you return his kiss and it slowly deepens.

You can feel his tongue flicking out, pushing through the seam of your lips. And just as you open up the path for him to enter the cavern of your mouth, as he takes your breath away and fills your mind with thick haze, he reaches between you to gently peel your hand away from your chest. He stops for a moment and pulls away from the kiss briefly. His eyes search carefully for yours, as if he is silently asking for your permission to continue.

And then you silently give it to him.

The moment you feel safe in his arms, you wrap your arms around his neck, letting your breasts completely bare for him to see. Yet you only give him mere seconds to enjoy the view, when the second you hear his soft voice whispering words of admiration while looking down on your body, you quickly press your lips on his, taking your turn to fill his mind with blurring haze.

“I want to be the one to strip you down,” you whisper against his lips between the kiss. Then you hear him groaning, purring softly while nipping at your bottom lip.

“Then what are you waiting for?” he asks you while his hands keep you close, holding you in place to stop you from moving away.

Smiling into the kiss, you deepen it for a brief moment before pushing him away gently. You leave another kiss at the tip of his nose then climbs off of the couch. As the area between his brows creases with unspoken questions, you reach for his hand and start to pull him off of his seat.

“Can’t have us leaving your briefs here for Suri to find in the morning, can we?” you tease him with a grin as you pull him away, leading the two of you all the way to your bedroom. It is time to move things up to somewhere private enough for you to continue the game and claim your prize.

Somewhere down the hallway, Jimin scoops you up from the floor and starts carrying you in his arms as he suddenly grows too impatient to wait. He also claims that he hates not being able to see your face or touch you for too long even if the short trip to your bedroom would only take a few minutes of your time.

“You’re being silly,” you comment with a laugh while crossing your arms over your chest, still with an effort of hiding your bareness from his eyes.

“Woman, I’ve waited for months to be with you. I might die if I have to wait any longer,” he gruffly says as he walks past the doorway to your bedroom.

Once inside, he carefully places you down, letting you stand on your two feet before he pulls you into his chest again and kisses you. Jimin wastes no more time as he devours your lips and neither are you feeling the need to hold back when you let him in. His tongue invades the cavern of your mouth while his hands run down the curves of your body, gently grazing his fingers down your bare back which sends shivers running down your skin.

With your hands still placed between you, you push them against his chest and slowly lead him to your bed. He halts the moment the back of his legs hit the edge of your bed, and that is when you push him away, catching him by surprise that he lands back on the bed with a chuckle.

“Someone is getting naughty,” he says, propping himself up with his elbows planted over the covers.

“You were not the only one who had to wait for months,” you tell him as you walk closer, smiling as he slowly pushes himself up to sit on the edge of the bed eagerly to welcome you.

Jimin spreads his legs and pulls you between his knees before bringing your head down to him so he could devour your lips. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lifts you gently onto the bed so that you are straddling his lap. Then your lips and tongue soon become entwined in each other as he kisses you deeply, your hips gyrating against each other as your body heat rises for his touches, until you pull away with a desperate groan at the one last barrier standing between you.

“This is getting in the way,” he murmurs while tracing his fingers along the lines of your panties.

Grazing your lips along his jawline, you give him light feathery kisses while whispering teasingly, “I thought you said you wanted to be the one to take these off?”

“Damn right, I did,” he gruffly says, before you feel him snapping your panties off of your skin, ripping it apart and tossing it away with a grin, while the only thing you could do is gasp.

“Now that is cheating. You’re the one who was supposed to lose these first,” you laugh at him while tugging on his briefs. “You are so bad. You are my prize, remember?”

Jimin grins widely. “My bad. I got greedy.”

You pout your lips, acting like you are about to sulk and whine softly. “So you won’t blame me if I get greedy as well, would you?”

You pleasantly watch as Jimin raises his brows, looking extremely amused. “Uh, oh—Are you going to punish me, baby?”

“Oh, damn right I am,” is all you say to him before you push him back to the bed until he is lying down, then slowly crawls over his body. His jaw falls slack as you place your hands on his chest and leans down, kissing his lips before he could say anything to you. Even his body reacts terribly slow when it takes him awhile before his hands finally move to reach you. You feel them roaming down your bare back before resting on your waist to hold you up against him. Your heart pounds rhythmically in sync with his heartbeat as your bare chests are moulded together.

Before you could lose yourself into the kiss, you start kissing down his body, starting from his jawline, to the column of his throat, then down to his chest. You look up to him from under your eyelashes, meeting his darkened gaze that is still following you down. His grin widens with pride even while his breath grows heavy as he watches you moving down his body. As if he wants to show you how much he is enjoying himself and the show you are giving him, he crosses his hands behind his head, propping himself up as he keeps watching and waiting to see what you are about to do next.

You slow down once you reach his stomach, taking your time to trace your lips down the lines on his taut pectoral muscles that looks like hard slabs of marble but can move as fluid as water, nibbling his skin as you go further down. His chest rises and falls more intensely when your fingers join in, raking down his waist and stopping at the waistband of his briefs. Still looking deep into his eyes, you lay a gentle kiss right at the top of his covered bulge, moving your lips slowly against his hard shaft until he bucks his hips up with a deep grunt.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, whining as you pull back with a grin.

As you pull away, you slip your fingers through the band of his briefs and slowly pull them down. Jimin helps you by lifting his hips up, allowing you to move it down his legs before tossing the fabric away to the floor.

His cock jumps right up the minute it is freed from its last restraint, instantly on high alert and twitching under the depth of your gaze as you come to look at it. Moving back between his spread legs, you hold onto his thighs as you lean down, pressing your lips at the swollen globe of his scrotum, one lingering kiss for each which earns deep, loud gasps coming from him.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs. His thighs are shaking under your palms as you move your kisses up his hard length, grazing the veins lining the underside of his cock until you reach the tip.

Jimin opens his eyes when you suddenly stop, silently questioning you through his deep gaze. Soon his eyes grow wide when you move back down, catching him by surprise as you lick up the underside of his length with your flattened tongue. His cock throbs against your tongue as he cries out in pleasure, his thighs are shaking even harder that you just have to hold them down tightly with your palms.

Drops of his pre-cum start leaking right at the tip of his cock, to which you lap them clean, licking them with your tongue until his whole shaft are glistening under the dim-lighting in your bedroom. You stop just as he has grown breathless and powerless under your touch and give a kiss at the tip of his hard shaft, before taking it inside your mouth.

Curses and pleas escape his lips when you slowly take him deeper into your mouth. Moving your mouth up and down, you slather his length with your saliva, pulling back until you reach his tip before going back down, taking an inch deeper each time you come back down until his swollen tip is nudging right at your throat.

Jimin moves his hand down, threading his fingers through your hair to gently guide you as you continue to bob your head up and down, his cock sliding in and out of your hot mouth in a slow and steady pace. As he grows harder inside our mouth, allowing you to feel each twitch his cock is making against your tongue, you start moving faster, taking him deeper, then his other hand joins in to push you down until his cock slowly pushes through your throat.

The sudden change of pace that happens as he takes over the lead makes you gasp, which allows your throat to take him in deeper. You are beginning to feel sore around the jaw, having been keeping your mouth opened wide for him, but you continue to let him fuck you in the mouth, slightly gagging on the first few strokes until you slowly give in and his cock slides easily through the tightness of your throat.

“Baby, your mouth feels so damn good,” he says, breathing heavily as he pushes you down while bucking his hips up, keeping the steady rhythm until you feel him twitching intensely inside your mouth.

You reach up, cupping his scrotum with your palm and feel them growing tight as they coil with his building climax. Jimin bucks his hips once and starts pulling you off of him gently as he begs, “Enough, baby. Let me cum inside your pussy.”

But you refuse to give in and continue moving up and down his length.

Looking up to meet his gaze, you move your free hand and wrap your palm around the remaining part of his girth you cannot fit into your mouth, stroking him there with the same pace as your mouth goes. Jimin cries out when he feels it coming, rising up so rapidly as you hollow your cheeks around his shaft each time you pull back to suck him dry.

“I’m coming, baby. Fuck—” he cries out at the last second, before jets of his thick, white cum comes flooding into your mouth and tongue, and you continue sucking and licking him until the very last drop explodes from his cock.

He is left breathless and listless when you are done. You release him with a pop, watching how his eyelids are fluttering close as he tries to recover while you lick the remaining cum that had managed to escape your lips. He slowly opens his eyes just as you lick your lips clean and send him a smile.

“Did it worth the wait?” you ask him with your voice hoarse after taking him deep in your throat, before a sigh comes out when your breath slowly settles. The answer he gives you is a mere grunt before he pulls you up, effortlessly switching you both until you are the one lying down on the bed.

He groans deeply as he hovers on top of you, gently brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “It was way more, baby. Way better than I had ever imagined it would. I’m never letting you go again. Ever,” he makes his promise before taking your lips in an intense kiss. He doesn’t even care that he could still taste his own cum as he sucks your tongue, or when he bites your lower lip until you cry out. He keeps doing it again, and again, until heat takes over your body and you become completely breathless as you lie beneath him.

Jimin pulls back to give you a chance to breathe, yet his kisses remain. As if he is trying to return the favour, his lips trail down your jawline, to the column of your throat, down along your collar bones, before he reaches to your breasts. He starts slowing down while keeping his eyes on your mounds, staring at them deeply until your whole body heats up under the intense gaze he is giving you.

“You’ve been hiding this from me all night,” he murmurs softly, before he leans down, tracing his lips around the globe of your right breast and kneads at the other with his palm. “No more hiding,” he murmurs against your skin, nipping gently under the curves of your breast before his lips trail upward, catching your nipple where he nips and sucks lightly at it until the peak turns to pebble. “No more keeping them away from me.”

The way his hot lips and tongue are sinfully rubbing and nipping at your hard nipple sends your whole body growing tight and hot for him. Your chest rises and falls with each breath and moan, your hands are holding and clenching at his shoulders for leverage, and he keeps on going, before he slowly moves to the other where he does the same until your left breast turns hard and hot like the other.

Your body moves with each throb of desire running within you. Your hips are swivelling beneath him the more your arousal comes pooling at your center, slick and wet between your legs and growing hungry for his touch right where you pulse for him the most.

Jimin’s warm breath falls on your skin as he chuckles, no doubt knowing exactly what you are craving for. But just as you had been teasing him all night to make him wait, he takes his time to tease you in return. He gives another kiss to each protruded nub before he finally moves his kisses down your body, moving around your navel before finally reaching down.

You can feel the heat of his gaze as he pulls back to look between your legs. “And no more hiding this from me either,” he says, reaching down to grab your thighs, spreading your legs apart for him to see more clearly at the pool of your arousal. Enjoying the way your nether lips are glowing and swelling, looking delectable to taste.

Lifting your legs up, resting one leg on each of his shoulder, he slowly climbs down the bed. He glances up to where your gazes are met, smiling warmly when he whispers, “Time for me to have a taste of what I had missed so badly for months.”

Keeping his eyes locked on yours, he presses his lips at your mound, moving slowly down as he trails soft kisses along your nether lips. Then without a warning, he lunges forward, pressing his lips hard at right where you wanted him and wasting no more time to give you what you had been craving for the most.

“Jimin!” you cry out his name as he kisses you deeply right at your hot entrance, his tongue lapping at every drop of your arousal as it traces its way down your slit and slides right into your hot entrance.

It feels euphoric.

The way his hot mouth is pressing against your sex, sucking and devouring you as if you are the most delightful meal he has ever tasted. His tongue licking and touching every inch of your core that pulses with itching desire that is begging to be relieved, moving up and down your slit before circling around your nub.

His fingers are wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs spread out perfectly for him to stay at your center. Then he moves one hand between you, his fingers reaching down to part your nether lips as he pushes his tongue further into your hot entrance.

“Jimin!” your scream slips out before it turns to a whimper. Reaching down, you run your fingers through his hair as you hold him there, clutching tight onto his locks as you swivel your hips down to his mouth, helping him to reach inside you with the soft muscles of his sinful tongue.

Jimin releases a deep moan as he tastes you, as his tongue parts your pulsing walls and he drinks in your sweet arousal like a drunken man.

“Oh, God. Jimin—”

Your toes curl into the messy sheets as you keep kicking your legs apart, your thighs are beginning to quiver as you feel it coming — the increasing surge of pleasure building up from your core. But right before you could reach it, Jimin pulls back, pulling his tongue out of your heat.

Whining, you look down to meet his sly smile. His mouth is covered with your arousal and glistens under the dim light as he smiles. Before you could beg him for the release you have been craving for, he pushes his fingers into your heat, entering your hot canal with two fingers at once and with one thrust that sends you crying in pleasure.

“So wet, baby. So hot,” Jimin whispers as he moves his fingers in and out of you, the tips pushing against the sweet spot inside you that has your body jolting with every thrust. Another cry leaves your mouth as he dives right back in, licking around at your clit first before taking the swollen nub between his lips and starts sucking.

“Mhm—so sweet, baby,” he grunts deeply against your cunt as he continues to lap, suck, and drink you in, his fingers keep moving relentlessly between your walls. “Ride my mouth, baby. Come on, fuck my mouth and come around my tongue.”

His words snap something inside you that pushes you to chase your release. With your fingers sinking into his silky hair, your legs are parted wider, you push your hips down, swivelling your body against his mouth with vigour as you give in to the desire that has been burning inside your core.

It doesn’t take long before you feel it climbing, the peak of your climax coming in small spasms that are rising so rapidly that you could barely hold on. Rolling your hips one last time, you chase it down just as Jimin pushes his fingers right into your depth and sucks harder your clit at the same time, and it is just what you need to push you off the precipice of your climax and have you plunging down to your release.

Then everything stops still for a moment.

As if you had just blacked out for a few seconds at the intensity of your orgasm. But as your senses slowly come to wake, you realise that your body is still moving. Your chest is rising and falling with gasping breaths, your hips still swivelling languidly against Jimin’s hot mouth and his lapping tongue, and your legs are trembling in the tight hold of his fingers.

“Are you okay, baby?” he gently asks you once he pulls back and notices your eyes fluttering open. His lips are plump and pink, glistening with your release. The sight itself makes you tingle inside and has you feeling the desire to pull him up to you so you could lick him clean, before planting your lips on every inch of his warm skin.

“Yes,” you whisper with a voice so hoarse that you could barely recognise yourself. “Yes, Jimin.”

Jimin hums softly, kissing your mound one last time before planting gentle kisses at your inner thighs, one shaking thigh at a time, then slowly rests your legs down. He begins to climb up, lifting you up in his arms until he could lie you back down at the center of the bed.

You are in the middle of taking a deep breath when he hovers on top of you. His eyes are dark and intense as he looks down, but you have your gaze falling on his thumb as he grazes the digit across the moisture around his lips to clear them up. With a smile on his face, Jimin puts his thumb between his lips to lick it clean, drinking in every drop of your nectar with pure lust in his eyes.

The sight grows something deep inside you that you come close to beg for him to ease it with his touches. Your body has been tingling with your first climax and now you can feel it begging for him, ready to be taken once again. The pulsing heat inside you is only getting stronger as you watch the lust in his eyes growing deeper. It beckons you to reach out, pulling his head down to you so you could kiss his plump lips and you do it with your fingers clutching his silky hair as you devour his lips, tasting yourself in his tongue.

Within moments, your bodies are entangled together as if you are moulded into one. His lips melting like hot coal against yours, his hands sending electric waves across your body as he runs them down your waist. He slips so easily between your legs as if he belongs there. His hard shaft instantly nudges right at your pulsing center, the tip of his cock touching at the sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs that makes your body jolts right up against him.

And the simple contact is enough to light up your senses like haywire.

“Please, Jimin,” you whimper while breathing heavily. Your hips moving beneath him, gyrating against his length as you beg for him to be inside you. “Please, I need you.”

“What do you need from me, baby?” he groans desperately while clenching his jaw to hold himself back. You can tell that he is already at his limit, but there is something he needs to hear from you first.

And you give it to him while cupping his cheeks with your trembling hands. “You. I want you, Jimin.”

Jimin smiles, looking pleased to hear your words. “Do you want me to show you how much I have missed you?” he asks with his voice sounding deeper, a few soft grunts coming through as he moves his hips together with you, sliding his length against your slit until he is coated with your arousal.

“Yes, show me,” you beg him softly. You kiss his lips with a soft peck before looking deep into his eyes. “Show me and don’t let me forget what it felt like not being able to touch you.”

He immediately leans down and kisses you roughly with a deep groan rumbling from inside his chest. “I’d rather die before I let that happen,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you once before pulling away. He reaches between you, wrapping his hand around his girth and gives himself a few strokes. Then, with his eyes on yours, he lines himself at your entrance. “Time to remind you how good it feels when we’re together.”

His eyes flare as he pushes into you in one quick stroke. His soft gasps are filled with pleasure as he revels in the tight fit of your walls, loving the feeling that comes from being buried in your warmth. The sound of your own soft gasps come out the moment he invades your core, pushing through the pulsing canal and instantly making you feel full of his girth.

“This. This right here. This is all I’ve ever wanted. Right here with you, inside you,” he groans, reaching up to thread his fingers between yours, bringing both your hands up to rest them down on either side of your head.

“Yes, Jimin. I’ve wanted this too,” you confess to him with a moan. Despite all the confusion and the uncertainty in your life, and the denial you have placed between you to serve as your protective wall, you really have no doubt about this. About how right it feels in his arms and to be one with him.

“Never deny me again, baby. Never deny us,” he pleads to you softly with a kiss on your lips.

“Never,” you promise him. “Please, make love to me, Jimin. Then fuck me hard until I can’t think straight.”

He gives you one last kiss, a deep and gentle one, before he finally does what you want him to do the most. Starting by making his sweet love to you first.

His moves are slow and mind-melting as he slides his length deeper into your depths. He deliberately swivels his hips in a way as if he is dancing, letting you feel every vein and bump along his girth as they slide against your walls. Each steady pound of his lovemaking trigger a steady rising of your pleasure, to each stroke ignites moans of ecstasy leaving your mouth.

You soon find your rhythm easily, as if you are destined to come to this point, as if your bodies remember what it feels like to be with one another. He let your hands go as he runs his palms down your body, stopping right at your hips where he holds you tight to keep your body from being pushed upward against the pillows. You thread your fingers through his hair and pull him down, catching his mouth in a deep kiss. Your tongue mirrors what is happening below your waists as you push into his mouth and his thrusts become more fevered.

“Jimin, Jimin—” you keep calling for his name as you keep on climbing to the peak of your pleasure, while at the same time, the way your walls are clenching down around his girth is sending his head falling back and his jaw slacking in silent screams of his own climax.

“Yes, baby. A little more. I’m almost there,” he whimpers between each thrust, his voice coming out in a mixture of a purr and a soft cry.

Your hands find their way down his bare back, sliding down to his waist before your palms find his plump bottom. You cup him there, pressing down while you keep moving your hips along to each swivel of his thrusts, urging him to go deeper, harder, to keep pushing into you until you can feel the tip of his cock pumping and pounding in your depth, right at the spot that would send you to oblivion.

“Yes, Jimin—right there, baby!” you scream out his name with pleads and cries of pleasure. Your body comes coiling tight as your climax arises, climbing up at a rapid pace to each thrust, to each stroke of his cock inside you.

Jimin leans down as his hand slides between your slick bodies. His lips come down to the sensitive part of your neck right at the same time his fingers find your clit. “Come for me. Come around my cock, baby,” he says, murmuring against your skin.

“Let me feel your walls sucking on my cock before I take you harder,” he adds. Then as his lips suck your skin, his fingers pinch at your clit. Both happening at the same time, sending you pain and pleasure at the same exact moment, and your orgasm erupts from inside your core. One that appears to last forever as he continues to thrust, pounding your throbbing walls with reckless abandon, pushing the waves of your climax to keep coming, again and again, until it slowly settles into smaller spasms vibrating in your walls.

The aftershocks of your orgasm within your core is urging his own climax to finally come, and he soon fills you up with his release. His warm cum comes coating your walls, igniting a smaller orgasm to follow from within you.

He collapses beside you once he is done, quickly tugging you close to his chest, leaving wide empty space to spare on your queen bed with how your sweaty bodies are completely latched on to one another. “That was amazing,” he whispers into your ear before lightly biting your earlobe.

“It sure was,” you murmur softly as you bury your face deeper into his chest.

Closing your eyes, you breathe in his scent deeply, enjoying how much it helps you to relax in his warmth even more. “Did you mean what you said?” you ask him, speaking softly before opening your eyes to him. “That you want this?”

“I do. I mean it,” he whispers, kissing you gently right at your temple. “No more running from me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say to him while pushing yourself up to kiss his lips, sweet and gentle, before dragging your teeth across his bottom lip until a deep, low groan escapes from him.

“Damn, baby. Did you also mean it about wanting me to fuck you all night?” he asks you while bucking his hips to your side. His shaft already starting to grow back into a hard mast as you feel it poking against your thigh.

“Every single word,” you tell him, almost purring at his ear. “I want to catch up on what we have missed for the past few months.”

With a low grunt, Jimin swiftly flips you back to the bed and he is suddenly on top of you. His lips come trailing hot, needy kisses down the column of your throat while his hand finds its way back between your bodies. “Is your pussy already wet for me again, babe?” he asks you with a raspy voice. Though he already finds his answer when his fingers slip between your nether lips, finding the mixture of your arousal and his release pooling together with new moisture, fresh and warm for him. “If you’re not sore already, you will definitely feel in the morning it if I take you again.”

Chuckling softly, you nip at his earlobe. “I’m always wet for you. And I really don’t mind,” you admit to him with a soft wail escaping between your words when his fingers start circling at your opening. “But what if I get too tired and I can’t wake up on time to pick up Suri?”

Jimin raises his head to look at you in the eyes. “Then I’ll do it for you. And I’ll always be here for whenever you can’t be there for her, or whenever both you and your daughter want me to,” he promises with a few kisses landing at the corner of your lips. “You are no longer alone in this, remember?”

“I remember. I always will,” you moan for him while parting your legs wider for him. “Now fuck me, Jimin. Fuck me so hard and make me forget my name.”

Without any word, Jimin rears back, lining himself at your opening and pushes back into you with one hard thrust. Then your hands move back to cup him on his plum bottom to guide him to move on, to start bucking his hips into you in a rapid pace that has your head swirling in pleasure in no time. Thrusting his hips, he makes sure to make you feel his thick cock invading you, parting your hot walls and filling you up until he pushes the air right out of your chest. Then he does it again, and again, pounding hard at your cunt with reckless abandon until your moans turn into anomalous wails.

And he does not stop until you are left in shambles and erupt in the most intense climax that makes you see only white sparks of heavenly bliss between your eyelids.

⇢ Author’s Note | Thank you for reading! A bonus chapter for this story will be available on Inkitt and Wattpad this week ♡

Disclaimer: All works are written by myself. Any copyright infringement, reposting on any other social media or website, and any act of plagiarism will be dealt with legal action

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sexywmatsui48 · 4 years

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Love or Duty | Chapter 1

Jurina convinced herself she stood in front of the bar to relieve the stress of her hectic day. Staring at the red neon letters above the door, Acceptance, she glanced back towards the darkening street. Salary men and women left office buildings, going back home after work. Strutting around dressed up to the nines in their black uniforms, some joined the subway, while others waited for their bus. Whether listening to music coming from their headphones, or their gaze riveted to their phone. Nothing on their face let transpire the frenetic pace of life in Tokyo.

Jurina’s fingers clutched her briefcase. Go back to her apartment and call it a day: that’s precisely what she should do. Forget about the foolish thought of passing that door. Returning her attention to the flashy red letters, she swallowed the lump in her throat. How often did her steps slow down when she passed in front of this bar? How many times had she paused a moment too long and considered entering, before quickly changing her mind and resume her walk?

Jurina closed her eyes, trying to force herself to move along and erase the inappropriate ideas flooding her mind. If she had resisted the temptation on dozens of occasions, she could do it once more. Against all common sense, a newfound determination swept through her. Taking off her wedding band, she slipped it in her vest pocket and marched forward, entering the Acceptance bar.

A funky, upbeat music welcomed her, her arrival prompting a few heads to turn around. She remained at the entrance, observing the place. On the left side of the room, was erected a stage, the instruments indicating that a band was expected to play. Around the stage were disposed velvet comfy chairs, a few occupied by customers. Between the stage and the first row of chairs, sufficient space had been left to dance. On the right side of the room, was the bar, some clients enjoying a drink at the counter, perched on a bar stool. The blue subdued lighting created a warm and cozy atmosphere.

On a Wednesday, it was far from full. By the number of people slowly approaching the stage, Jurina guessed the upcoming show was much anticipated and would attract a lot of attention. To complete her studying, she noted the bar was filled with women, without a single man in sight. She didn’t expect any less. After all, Acceptance was renowned for attracting a specific type of clientele.

Forcing her legs to move, she walked towards the bar, and took a seat on one of the elevated black stools. Placing her hands on the wood counter, her eyes rested on the empty space on her ring finger. Jurina felt a pang of guilt, and reconsidered her presence. This was wrong; she shouldn’t be here. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the front door. The female bartender was busy attending another customer. There was still time to change her mind and leave unnoticed.

“Hi, you’re new? I’ve never seen you here.”

Jurina swung her head to her left, where the feminine voice came from. A few stools away was sitting a woman in her thirties. Long, dark hair fell around her shoulders and down her back. Jet black mascara outlined her eyelashes. She wore a white sleeveless top, a mini red full skirt, along with a pair of blue sandals. Jurina felt ill-at-ease in her black salary woman outfit. Her black vest, buttoned over a white shirt, and her black pair of trousers, contrasted sharply with the woman’s relaxed appearance.

A gentle smile played across the woman’s lips, highlighted by a subtle, pale pink lipstick.

Jurina caught herself staring at her lips a moment too long.

“Yes, it’s my first time,” Jurina replied. She looked away. Jurina wasn’t a shy person. She was outgoing, and had no difficulty to engage in casual conversations with friends or coworkers. People praised her good nature. When a party was organized, she never refused. So why was she acting so distant? Another peek at her absent ring reminded her of her immoral intentions. She hadn’t only come to this place to empty her head after a long, exhausting day. She was in search of something else.

“May I join you?”

Jurina glanced back at her, and nodded her head in agreement. A smile of pleasure plastered the woman’s features. She moved to sit next to her.

“You haven’t ordered. What would you like to drink?”

Jurina’s attention fell onto the half-filled tulip glass in front of the stranger. “What are you drinking?”

“Sun and the Moon. It’s a mix of pineapple, melon and cranberry. It has a sweet taste, but it’s also alcoholic. It contains a lot of vodka.”

Jurina read between the lines; the woman was warning her against the possible effects the beverage could have on her. She was resistant to alcohol. Tonight, she wanted to forget about her problems. If this drink could help, it was what she needed.

“I’ll have the same,” Jurina replied.

The other woman expressed slight surprise, but didn’t say anything. She addressed the female bartender. “Akane. Can you serve the same to my friend?”

“Of course.” Jurina didn’t miss the curious look the bartender gave her, as if assessing her, before sending her a polite smile and preparing the drink.

“Do you come here often?” Jurina asked; it was impossible to ignore the familiarity between both women.

“Not that much, but the bartender is a good friend of mine. Who can say no to free drinks?” she said in a playful, joking tone. “I sometimes come on the weekend. Today is an exception. I had a long day at work, and needed to…” She trailed away, searching for her words. Her brow wrinkled with thoughts.

“Unwind?” Jurina offered.

“Yes.” The woman’s features softened; her lips curled into a smile. “Where are my manners. I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Rena.”

“Jurina.”

“Well, Jurina. Nice to meet you.” A drink was placed in front of Jurina, and she thanked the bartender. “I hope you’ll enjoy your drink.”

Jurina brought her glass to her lips, taking a sip. The woman was right; it contained a strong dose of alcohol. Despite it, she couldn’t resist taking another taste. It was different from what she was used to, but there was nothing wrong with trying something new. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the other woman watching her.

“I like it.” Jurina lowered her glass on the counter. “It has a sweet taste in the mouth. I might be tempted to take a few more.”

Rena let out a soft chuckle. “Yes, this cocktail can have this effect. I’m glad you like it. It’s my favorite.”

“I work in an advertising company. There are often tight deadlines to respect, and my days can be a little stressful,” Jurina said, marking a pause. A few women left the counter to approach the scene. The band had arrived. Jurina felt no desire to follow the gathering of people. Beside her, her companion had her gaze fixed on her, and was listening with attention. “What about you?”

“I’m an actress. At the moment, I’m playing in Central Hospital, a medical show that airs on TBS every Friday at 7 PM. You might have heard of it?”

“Well, I…” Jurina’s face clouded with slight embarrassment. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

Rena’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “It’s alright, it’s a small part. I play the role of a lab technician. You wouldn’t have remembered me.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Jurina shook her head in disapproval. “I don’t see how anyone could forget a beautiful woman like you.”

Jurina tensed. Her heart beat increased. What on earth was she saying? She had blurted those words without thinking. She raised her glass, drinking hard.

Rena giggled. “Thank you for the compliment. So, you think I’m beautiful?”

Jurina returned her gaze to her, startled. The woman was teasing her. “I do.” The answer left her lips more naturally than she wished to admit. It had to be the alcohol speaking. She had already emptied her first glass. Deep down, she knew it was a false excuse. Her female companion was lovely, charming and attractive. Anyone with eyes could see that. It was impossible to not feel drawn to her.

Rena went back to her drink, looking pensive. Jurina feared she had gone too far. Had she been too straightforward? “Be careful, or I’ll believe you’re flirting with me.”

“I…” Jurina didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t mind,” Rena said; she laid her hand on top of Jurina’s. “After all, I’m the one who approached you.”

The contact sent her pulses racing. Jurina knew it was wrong to feel that way. Every fiber in her body warned her against it, what would happen if she pursued with this interaction and train of thoughts.

“I’ll take another one.” Rena signaled the bartender. “What about you? Do you want another drink, or…” she paused for a breath, letting slip a twinge of doubt through her mask of confidence. “Do you want to stop here?”

Jurina was at a cross path. Reason told her to put some distance between them and leave before it was too late. Another part of herself, the one that led her to push the door of that bar, was eager to discover what would follow. Before she could open her mouth to answer, her head had nodded her consent. The woman displayed the most captivating smile, one she found unable to resist.

**********

After the third drink, Jurina perceived the influence of alcohol on her system. It made her more open, talkative. In Rena’s presence, she didn’t see the time pass by. During two hours, they discussed various topics, from music, cooking and traveling. Never did they broach, as if a tacit agreement existed between them, any subject that touched their private life.

Their complicity made Jurina forget all about the late hour. Every opportunity was good for Rena to brush Jurina’s shoulder, or rest her hand upon her leg. Rena used the music as a pretense to lean over and speak against her ear, her lips touching her cheek too frequently to be an accident. Her rose perfume, that reached Jurina’s nostrils whenever she invaded her personal space, blended with the freshness of citrus scents, both soothing and intoxicating at the same time.

They were playing a dangerous game.

“This is my favorite song.” Rena’s attention was drawn by the ballad the band was singing. “Will you dance with me?”

The proposal set up a few alarms in Jurina’s head. “I-I’m not so much of a dancer…”

“Oh, come on.” Rena raised from the stool. She reached for her hand. “Everyone knows how to slow dance.”

Jurina didn’t have the opportunity to protest that she dragged her towards the stage. She stopped in the middle of the dancefloor, amidst the other couples of dancers, and threw her arms around her neck. Jurina’s heart hammered in her chest. She stood transfixed on the spot, unable to move, Rena’s body pressed against hers.

“You’re supposed to put your hands around my waist,” Rena murmured playfully to her ear. “Or people are going to look at us awkwardly.”

Jurina met her gaze, amusement flickering in the eyes that met hers. Jurina’s hands touched her waist, tentative, then slipped her arms around her. They moved in rhythm with the music, brushing the floor softly. Before Rena’s tender smile, Jurina let herself go. Little by little, the tension melted from her body and she slowly relaxed. When Rena buried her face against her shoulder, Jurina tightened her hold ever so slightly.

It was like time was suspended, and nothing else mattered but the two of them. Jurina didn’t pay attention to the lyrics of the song, or the other couples dancing. All she could focus on was the gorgeous woman in her arms, and the intimacy they shared. How was it possible to feel such a strong connection to someone she barely met? She shushed the little voice in her head telling her this was wrong. While the truth scared her, it was impossible to deny they were attracted to each other.

She could have danced with her all night.

Everything eventually comes to an end. In the background, the music faded, breaking the magic. Rena disentangled her arms from her neck. The band announced it was the last song, and the crowd dissipated. None of them made any move to leave. Rena’s lips were so close to hers; she could have easily stolen a kiss. Jurina felt a twinge of shame for letting such a thought cross her mind.

Rena took her hand, and lead them back to the bar. All along the way, Jurina tried to analyze what had transpired between them. Why had she let another woman get so close to her? Her actions were irrational. She should have left that bar hours ago. In fact, she shouldn’t even have passed that door in the first place. They regained their seat, both falling into an unusual silence.

Rena raised her glass to her lips, and Jurina mimicked her actions, trying to make sense of the situation. When she glanced back in Rena’s direction, she found her looking at her intently. Rena settled her drink back on the counter. Her hand found hers, linking their fingers together. “I’m going to the bathroom. Will you join me?”

Jurina’s heart raced at Rena’s suggestive smile.

She didn’t wait for an answer and left. Jurina followed her retreating form, not losing the implication of what she had offered. She reached for her drink, noticing how little was left of it, and emptied it down in one gulp. Her feet moved on their own volition. Before she realized it, she had pushed the bathroom door.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Rena waited on the other side of the room, her back leaned against the white, tiled bathroom wall. Jurina watched her expression of pleasure change to longing. She shuddered, and felt a burning need for her grow deep inside of her. She swept the place around, enough to acknowledge they were alone. Rena tore herself away from the wall and reduced the few meters separating them. Once in front of her, she wound her arms around her neck and drew Jurina’s mouth to hers.

“I’ve wanted you since you took a seat at the bar.”

The moment Rena’s lips made contact with hers, Jurina threw herself into that kiss. Rena’s lips parted and her mouth opened in invitation. That small invitation was all Jurina needed. Jurina pulled her close, and kissed her hungrily. The simple taste of her elicited reactions from her body that swept her away in their intensity.

Jurina could feel herself sliding towards that dangerous cliff. The cliff where the entire world gave way before her burning urges. Her hands wrapped around Rena’s waist, holding her steady. Rena never hesitated nor resisted. The more Jurina took, the more Rena gave, and she clung to her, Rena’s body pressed so closely against hers she could feel every supple curve moulding to her.

How long they stayed that way, drowning in the taste and touch of the other’s mouth, Jurina didn't know, and truly didn't care. Had it not been for the demands of their oxygen starved lungs, she might not have pulled her lips from her own. Rena was here in her arms, and Jurina was losing herself in the smell of her, the taste of her, the very feel of her soft, warm skin beneath her fingertips where they brushed her bare shoulders.

Her hands moved down her back, exploring, trying to slip underneath her white shirt. Their kisses turned more demanding, pressing. It was messy, urgent. When Jurina kissed her, she discovered she had more passion and fire within her than she ever imagined, for one luscious taste of Rena’s lips only left her hungrier for more.

“I needed that so badly,” Rena gasped.

“Me too,” Jurina confessed.

When Jurina’s mouth met hers again, Rena took control of the kiss, her tongue plundering the depths of her mouth and leaving her trembling with arousal and desire. Jurina drew back long enough to gaze at her with enough unbridled passion in her eyes, for the other woman to know they both wished the same thing.

Their kisses turned more passionate, none of them showing signs of wanting to stop. Jurina found herself pushed against the wall. She heard her vest falling on the ground, and a pair of hasty fingers unbuttoning her shirt. Next thing she knew, Rena’s palms were mapping her breasts through her bra, her nipples pulling tight under her ministrations.

“You’ll need that.”

The kiss was broken; Jurina dragged her heavy-lidded eyes open. Trying to figure out what she meant, she followed Rena’s actions. Detaching herself from her, Rena placed a coin in the wall machine, and retrieved the fallen condom. Surprise flashed in Jurina’s eyes. “H-How did you know?”

Rena gave her a malicious, knowing look. “You think I didn’t notice the bulge between your legs? It’s not a secret what kind of people come to this bar.”

Jurina was taken aback, speechless. “So, you have… with people like me?”

“I don’t have any preferences, but yes, a couple of times. Why?” She slipped the plastic bag into the front pocket of Jurina’s pants. “Isn’t it what you were looking for when you entered that bar?”

“I…” Jurina made no immediate reply, and considered for a moment. “I’m not sure what I was searching.”

Confusion crossed Rena’s features. “You wanted some company.” She lightly swept her tongue between Jurina’s lips, pressing her warm, soft lips to hers. “Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not…” Jurina couldn’t deny it.

“Then, come in.”

Rena grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her into an empty toilet, shutting the door close behind them. Jurina didn’t know what she found the most frightening and enticing at the same time: that she wanted another woman so much, or that she was desired with equal hunger. Rena didn’t waste time to work on her pants, pulling them down, then pushed her down on the toilet seat. Jurina’s mouth went dry; her heart jolted. She watched in awe as Rena’s hand disappeared under her red full skirt and pulled off a pair of pink underwear, letting it fall on the floor.

She grew more excited as Rena hiked her skirt up and straddled her. Jurina helped her remove her white top from above her head, Rena tossing it aside, her pink bra following the same path. Jurina pulled her closer, and latched her lips onto hers. Her hands moved up so her thumbs touched the undersides of her exposed breasts. Jurina could feel Rena’s heartbeat, and she breathed more heavily by every second. With every breath, her breasts moved slightly and Jurina moved towards her nipples. She caressed them freely and fully, cupping one in each hand and rubbing each in a circular motion.

“D-Don’t make me wait.” Rena’s voice sounded husky, a little breathless. “I want you inside me.”

Jurina needed no further encouragement. Her hand reached between Rena’s legs, but was halted in her exploration. “There’s no need for any more foreplay.” Rena grabbed her wrist. “Trust me, I’m ready.” Jurina gently freed herself from her hold. She resumed her progress underneath Rena’s skirt, approaching the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Her fingers came in contact with damp folds. “See? Told you.” Rena smirked back at her. She hooked a finger on each side of Jurina’s boxers and inched them down, revealing Jurina’s manhood. Astonishment touched her face, followed by an amused smile.

Jurina felt slightly embarrassed.

She was as hard as stone.

Rena touched Jurina’s cheek and ran her thumb across her lips. She leaned forward, gently kissing her. “Do you want to put it on, or will I? What do you prefer?”

Through her frenzy mind, it took Jurina a few seconds to remember where Rena had placed the condom. Jurina retrieved it from her pants pocket, and tore it open, slipping the protection on over her erection. Rena took a moment to position herself, then reached between Jurina’s legs and guided her manhood into her. She lowered herself smoothly, gently, until Jurina held her completely inside her. Jurina gave a gasp of excitement as she felt the hot, moist clench of her muscles on her.

Rena began moving on top of her. She moved slowly, sliding out of her until only the tip remained inside then slowly thrusting back in again until she filled her completely. Each stroke made her whimper and moan slightly, her arms tightening around her. Rena continued her slow languid movements, holding her intense chocolate-eyed gaze with her own. They rocked together, two minds slowly merging to become one as their bodies melded until it was impossible for her to know which was her pleasure and which was hers.

She rocked rhythmically, back and forth, rising and falling, changing sometimes to a lewd circular sway. It drove them both crazy, if the hitches in their breathing were any indication. Jurina drew one of those tight nipples into her mouth. Gripping handfuls of her hair, Rena let out a sharp cry of pleasure. Jurina’s hands gripped Rena’s hips and grinded her down on her. Jurina sped up the tempo.

Hard and fast she pushed her down on her, her tongue moving in sync with her hips, encouraged by Rena’s rising passion, by the hands that clenched her back. Jurina sent her free hand down to where they were joined, teasing and coaxing her sensitive bud. Rena’s moans of pleasure encouraged her fiery plundering of her body. Jurina closed her eyes and let the pleasure radiate outward from where their bodies were joined. Jurina felt a pulling at her shaft in rhythm to their movement. It was the muscles inside Rena, caressing her. Jurina made a low sound in her throat.

“You can hold it. Just… a little longer.”

Jurina heard Rena’s whispering pleas, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She teetered on some brink of ecstasy, trembling on the edge just this side of sanity. Rena’s breath was coming faster now. They went on, moving in unison. Rena adjusted the angle to reach her most sensitive spot, far up inside her womb. That made Jurina’s eyes open. The physical pleasure could no longer be separated from the mental, and she felt them both rising to the edge toward the crest of ultimate pleasure.

Rena reached that pinnacle first. Gasping out Jurina’s name, she shuddered around her, her contractions clamping down on her shaft. Rena clung to her while her body shivered in the aftershocks. Jurina’s own release followed on the heels of hers. She lost all control and climaxed with her, riding the waves of pleasure.

When Jurina returned to herself, it was to the feeling of Rena’s fingers stroking her hair. A sensation of satisfaction drifted from her, a sated happiness and warmth that was intoxicating. Rena’s body still trembled from the force of her last orgasm and she shuddered as well. Breathing heavily, still buried deeply inside of her, Jurina dropped a trail of kisses down her neck, and on her shoulder.

Minute by minute, they came down from the euphoria but remained locked in each other’s arms. For the first time in more years Jurina could remember, she had finally experienced sexual pleasure again.

Jurina felt Rena backing slightly, and pressing her lips against hers. A smile pulled at her lips and she returned the kiss, almost wishing this moment could last forever. Eventually, Rena slowly removed herself from on top of her. She retrieved her fallen clothes from the floor, and readjusted them as best as she could. Jurina watched her moving towards the door, and she knew this was it. Her short, but memorable encounter with Rena was coming to an end. She turned around in her direction. “Thank you. I enjoyed it.”

Rena gave her one last lingering smile and unlocked the door. Jurina followed the sound of her footsteps drawing away, followed by the bathroom door opening and shutting close. Jurina was left alone with her thoughts. A one-night stand. It was all that it was. Once Jurina would have left that place, she would return to her daily life, and pretend that moment never occurred.

**********

Jurina dropped her keys in the ashtray, and hanged her vest on the coatrack. Removing her shoes in the entrance, she was careful not to make too much noise as she made her way inside the dark apartment. She stole a peek in the direction of the bedroom: the lights were off. Pushing the bathroom door, she removed her clothes, and entered the shower. A steady stream of warm water cascaded over her shoulders, washing away any physical trace of her misconduct.

Visions of Rena filled her mind. She had no intention of seeing her again. No clarification was needed for them to know what this nightly encounter was. But it didn’t mean Rena was someone easy to forget. She had made her feel something, on both an emotional and physical level, that she hadn’t felt in years.

Jurina made her way to the bedroom, slowly opening the door. Her gaze fell down on her wife, sleeping soundly in bed. The pang of guilt got bigger. She made her way towards her own side of the bed, and took a seat on the side of the bed, her back turned to the other woman while she put on her pajamas. She had to repeat herself again and again it was only a moment of weakness, to not let the shame consume her. Placing her wedding ring on the bedside table, she quietly slipped between the sheets.

The mattress shifted behind her.

“Did you stay at work late again?”

“Yes, I wanted to finish some paperwork.” Jurina bit down on her lower lip. It was the first time she lied to her wife.

“You can arrive at work later. Don’t forget we have a meeting at 11 AM with the board committee.”

“I won’t…” Jurina’s voice trailed away uneasily. “Thank you for reminding me. Goodnight, Sakura.”

“Goodnight.”

Behind her back, Jurina heard her wife falling back asleep. Jurina tried to do the same, but found herself wide awake. She stared at the wedding ring on the bedside table, reminder of the commitment she had made to the woman sleeping in bed with her. And the misdeed she had committed tonight for the first time. Jurina squeezed her eyes shut, wishing to erase from her mind once and for all any memory of Rena’s enchanting dark, brown eyes.

#wmatsui #jurisaku #matsui jurina #matsui rena #miyawaki sakura #takayanagi akane #SKE48 #Love or Duty #chapter 1

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