[CHANNEL_9] fromis_9 '채널나인' EP61. Spotlighting 🐼 Part.4
fromis_9 Lee Seoyeon
10,141 words (Co-edited by @digipigichopshop)
To review and edit a video is often more difficult than one might think. It requires keen attention to detail, making sure that every frame is flawless and the narrative flows seamlessly with no room for error. Mess up a bit and it would have to go through additional rounds of revisions. Luckily, the initial editing appears to be free of mistakes so far. You're two videos in and instead of it being one hell of a frustrating task, it's as if you're in the comfort of your home watching porn videos in private.
It's nearly time for lunch. While everyone else is thinking about where to eat and what to have, your attention is still captured by yet another mesmerizing video in front of you. After watching Jiwon and Chaeyoung get ravaged by their partners in their videos, your craving for more intense and passionate moments only grows.
A video with a Panda Thumbnail catches your attention. As you hit the play button, excitement slowly overwhelms you knowing that Seoyeon, fromis_9’s resident rapper, is the main focus of this video. You can't wait to see how things will play out for her since she can portray both the cuteness of a panda and the fierceness of a tiger on camera. Once again, the memorable intro card for "Channel_9" appears and while it plays, you decide to include a brief recap from the previous video to refresh viewers' memories.
As the intro comes to an end and the recap plays, you prepare yourself for what is about to unfold.
The video starts with a glimpse of the opulent bar interior, featuring soft lighting, plush velvet furnishings, and a stylish polished bar. The space appears vacant as though anticipating some thrilling event. Just then, the camera transitions to the entrance where Seoyeon, dressed in purple office attire, cautiously opens the sturdy wooden door and enters.
"Oh! Hello to you all," she greets the cameras as she spots them one by one with a bow.
She's immediately astounded by the stunning visuals of the bar, taking in every detail with wide eyes and a sense of wonder.
"Wow... This place is amazing," she comments as she walks further into the bar, her voice filled with awe.
As Seoyeons steps further inside, she takes in the beautiful surroundings of the bar, with its elegant decor and welcoming atmosphere. The excitement on her face becomes even more visible as she explores the space as if it’s her first time.
After a few steps, she ends up in a large room adorned with a mesmerizing crystal chandelier that shimmers with a soft, enchanting glow.
"Whoa..." she breathes out in amazement as she gazes at the chandelier and everything surrounding it, fascinated by the room’s grandeur. "This is beautiful."
Walking deeper into the room, she gazes at every intricate detail adorning the space until she reaches the bar counter. A man in a sleek suit is standing behind it, carefully polishing a glass. Her arrival draws his eyes and he looks up with a courteous smile.
"Good day to you, miss," the man greets Seoyeon, his voice smooth and inviting.
The lady in purple responds with a gentle nod and a shy smile. "And to you, sir."
"I would assume that you are here for the challenge?" the man asks curiously.
"Ah, yes. I am," she replies, sounding nervous.
"I see," he says as he puts down the glass. "I was told to assist you."
Seoyeon smiles and nods with a delighted look on her face.
"Nice to meet you!" she tells him with a slight bow, her tone sweet and full of energy.
"Likewise. I look forward to working with you," he replies, his tone warm & welcoming.
Seoyeon then lets out a soft chuckle, as if excited for what's about to come.
"So… what are we supposed to do?" she asks.
"I'm afraid I don't have the answer, Miss," he replies. "I was told to wait for further instructions."
"Ohh..." she nods her head. "Maybe it's something related to mixing cocktails? Or how to toss drinks?"
He chuckles softly. "Perhaps you're right."
"Or... It could be just about drinking a lot," she makes a quick jest, laughing nervously at her joke.
"Well, that is something that I certainly wouldn't mind," the bartender smiles at her playful remark before gesturing to take a seat at the bar. "Please, do have a seat."
Seoyeon heeds his invitation and settles on a stool nearest to him.
"Thank you," she replies as she makes herself comfortable.
"So, do you drink?" he asks her politely.
"I do, but not that much," she confesses, her cheeks blushing.
"I see," he responds with a smile. "Would you like a drink?"
She nods gratefully. "Of course. Something light, please."
The bartender nods and starts preparing a drink for the lady in front of him.
"I'll make you a nice mojito," he says, reaching for the mint leaves and muddling them gently in the glass.
"Oh, I love mojitos!" Seoyeon exclaims as she hears his suggestion. "They're so good."
"They do. Yeah," he nods as he pours the different ingredients into the glass, mixing them skillfully.
Seoyeon observes closely as the bartender skillfully moves his hands, impressed by his mastery. He can’t help but smile at the sight of her patiently observing his craft, a hint of satisfaction visible in his eyes. As he completes the mojito and places it gracefully in front of Seoyeon, he leans in closer, speaking in a soft tone.
"Here you go," he tells her, his eyes fixed on hers. "The best mojito you’ll ever have.”
"Why thank you," she giggles as she reaches for the glass and takes a slow sip, savoring the refreshing taste on her lips.
The bartender observes Seoyeon as she sips the mojito, his gaze focused on her parted lips as they touch the rim of the glass.
"So how is it?" he asks, his voice filled with anticipation.
"Wow... It's good," she replies in a soft, appreciative tone. "I've never had a mojito like this before."
"Thank you very much," he responds with a satisfied smile. "I'm glad you enjoy it."
"It's very sweet and minty," she adds, her eyes twinkling with delight. "You can’t even taste the alcohol!"
The bartender giggles at her observation and gives her a nod. Her delighted reaction to the drink almost made him blush. She may be an awesome performer, but her fans are mostly drawn by her innocence towards a lot of things.
As Seoyeon continues to enjoy her mojito, they hear a ring coming from a monitor at the end of the counter, grabbing their attention. As they turn their heads toward it, a message pops up on the screen, causing their curious eyes to meet once again.
"What is that?" she asks curiously.
"That must be the challenge we should take," he replies, his voice filled with intrigue.
They read the following message together that appeared on the screen;
“SPOTLIGHTING CHALLENGE: LOVE IN THE CLUB
Learn how to be the best bartender!
Your partner will teach you the basics about mixing cocktails. It’s up to you to make the best drink ever!
You have 3 hours to prepare your drink.
Your partner will taste your cocktail. He will provide you with the result.
GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!"
The screen then transitions into a countdown timer set for 3 hours.
— Digi stopped here but may continue if he has time tomorrow —
"Ooh..." Seoyeon mutters in surprise, her eyebrows raising and her eyes widening. "Cocktail mixing?"
"Indeed," he responds with a smile. "You seem interested."
"Ah, well… You can say that," she replies humbly, a light blush appearing on her cheeks.
"That’s good to hear," he responds, his voice tinged with warmth.
"So, what’s up first?" she asks, eyes bright with excitement.
"Well, for starters… Head over here," he answers, gesturing to come closer.
"Ah, right," Seoyeon says, embarrassed. She then walks around the counter and approaches the bartender.
"Now, I will be teaching you about mixing drinks," he says, his voice tinged with pride.
"Okay, what's the first thing I need to do?" she asks, sounding enthusiastic.
"First, we'll need to prepare the ingredients," he answers.
"Got it."
"You might want to take off your jacket. It might get stained."
"Ah! My bad," Seoyeon chuckles as she removes her blazer and tosses it far from the bartender's workspace.
The video then transitions to a brief montage as Seoyeon and the bartender begin preparing the ingredients for her first few cocktails. They combine liquids and fruits in a shaker, shaking it vigorously to create a distinct sound of ice and liquid blending together. As she continues mixing, they sample each cocktail with small sips, engaging cheerfully while bonding over this interesting activity.
"Mmm, it's quite good," the bartender remarks. "I think it needs a little more ice."
"Okay," Seoyeon nods. "So that’s what it only needs?"
"Yes," he confirms. "A few more ice cubes and it will be perfect."
"Alright. That seems easy," she responds, a small smile gracing her lips.
They continue mixing more drinks, making slight adjustments here and there until they've created a cocktail that both of them are satisfied with.
"Now, let's see if you can make this," he says, handing her a shaker and a glass.
"Sure, I'll give it a try," she responds with a determined expression.
She pours the ingredients into the shaker, shaking it with great care. She then tests the drink, taking a small sip.
"Oh wow!" she exclaims. "Whoo! That's good!"
"Thank you," he says with a warm laugh. "It's something I prepared before you arrive."
"Kinda strong for me but yes! I like it!" she remarks, a pleased expression on her face.
"Do you think you can recreate it?" he asks, his eyes filled with curiosity.
Seoyeon then ponders his question, scratching her head.
"I'm not going to tell you its ingredients, though,” he tells her with a firm tone in his voice. “But it's an easy one so you should be able to figure it out," he adds, trying to reassure her..
"Okay. I guess I can try…" Seoyeon nods as she thinks deeply.
The lady in purple then starts to carefully examine the different ingredients and liquors that are laid out in front of her. She carefully examines each one, trying to determine what could be in the cocktail she was just served.
"Hmmm," she murmurs to herself, her eyes scanning the bottles. "Maybe this will... No, that's not it."
"It’s okay, Seoyeon. Take your time," he urges her, smiling encouragingly.
"Do you think I can make it before the time ends?" she asks him curiously.
The bartender chuckles. "We barely just started, Miss."
"That's true," she replies, laughing lightly.
"There's still plenty of time, so take your time and do the best that you can," he reassures her, making her not rush things.
Seoyeon then returns to the task, now focused on recreating the cocktail she tried earlier. She carefully examines the ingredients, trying to identify their significance. After selecting a few key items, she adds them to the shaker and starts mixing under the watchful eye of the bartender who provides support and guidance.
"I'm not sure if this is correct, but let's see," Seoyeon tells herself as she tests the concoction.
After tasting her work, a delighted expression appears on her face.
"Mmmh. That's pretty good," she exclaims, looking rather pleased.
"Is it? Let me try," the bartender says as he takes the glass from her.
He then samples her creation and a pleased expression appears on his face as well.
"It is quite good. Good job," he tells her, his voice filled with warmth.
"Really? Thank you," Seoyeon smiles happily.
"However, I believe you missed a few things," the man says, his voice laced with a bit of teasing.
"Is that so?" she asks, a mix of interest and intrigue.
"What you just recreated is a Long Island iced tea. Very popular in the US," he explains, a smile tugging on his lips. "You missed adding a bit of gin."
"Ooh, that's what it is," Seoyeon responds, sounding impressed.
"Yes," he replies, nodding his head. "So how do you feel after learning a bit about mixing drinks?"
"It was quite fun," Seoyeon remarks, her face flushed with excitement. "I enjoyed it."
"I'm glad to hear it," the man tells her. "Should we proceed to your challenge? Maybe you would like to learn more, perhaps?"
"Can you teach me more?" Seoyeon inquires, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.
"I could," the bartender answers with a smile. "But you look like you had enough drinks."
The camera focuses on her face, showing her rosy cheeks and glossy eyes, signs of being drunk. She scrambles to check his claims, putting her palms on her cheeks.
"I'm fine. I'm not drunk yet," she retorts, laughing, as if embarrassed.
"Are you sure? The ones you drink are pretty strong," he asks, his eyes narrowing at her, a playful smile dancing on his lips.
"I'm sure," she answers, her voice tinged with certainty. "I'm fine—hic!"
She covers her mouth, embarrassed, hiding her hiccup.
"There we go," the man tells her, his voice soft yet firm.
"N-no. I'm not..." she stammers, trying to hold back another hiccup.
"Well, you are," he insists, his tone playful.
"I-I'm not... Agh!" she tries again as she slowly shows frustration in her state.
"It's alright, Seoyeon. You can be honest," he encourages her, his voice gentle and kind.
"But I'm not. Really," she tries to convince him.
"You sure you are not drunk, yet?"
"No. Yes. I mean—hic! Aww, man!" she hiccups again, a small smile playing on her lips.
The bartender laughs lightly, amused by her stubbornness.
"See, Seoyeon. You're not fine at all," he tells her, his voice filled with warmth. "You've had enough."
"But I want to learn more!" she insists, her voice filled with determination. "We still have some time left."
"We can do that later, okay?" the bartender assures her. "After all, you can't mix drinks if you're drunk."
"Hmmm... I guess you're right," Seoyeon replies, nodding slowly.
"Alright. Let's take a rest over there," he points at a plush couch placed in a corner of the room.
"Okay… Nghh…" she replies, groaning.
"Come, follow me," he says as he gestures for her to walk.
They then make their way towards the couch. Despite having a few drinks, she moves steadily yet he follows closely beside her, supporting her as she goes. Soon after, they both take a seat on the couch, sitting closely next to each other.
"This couch is nice and comfy," Seoyeon observes, a small smile appearing on her lips.
"It is, isn't it?" the bartender comments, his tone soft and warm.
"Yeah," she nods her head.
He then offers her a glass of water, which she accepts gratefully.
"Thank you," she tells him, her voice tinged with gratitude.
"You're welcome," he replies, his voice gentle and soothing.
Seoyeon takes a sip of water and leans her head back against the couch.
"So... How do you find bartending?" he asks her, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"Well, it's been fun so far," Seoyeon tells him, her voice filled with sincerity.
"Glad to hear that," he replies, his eyes meeting hers.
"I'm learning new things with your help," she adds, her tone grateful.
"Anything for a cute customer like you," the bartender compliments her, and a warm smile can be seen on his face.
"You flatter me," Seoyeon responds, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"Hey. Your face is getting redder," he teases her.
Embarrassed, she tries to cover her cheeks with her hands. "That's because you're flattering me!"
"No need to be embarrassed, though," he tells her, his voice gentle and understanding. "It's the alcohol's doing."
"Ah, yeah... I'm a little bit tipsy, I guess," she admits, her voice filled with sheepishness.
"Just a little bit?"
"Yeah! I'm not drunk!" she argues.
"Really? Because you're hiccuping a lot."
"But I'm not—hic!"
The bartender laughs. "There it is again."
"Ugh. I can't help it," she groans, sounding frustrated.
"Well, I'm sure you can," the bartender counters. "Maybe you just need some help."
"Help? How?" she inquires, her voice curious and hopeful.
"You see... They say kissing helps stop hiccups," the man replies, his voice low and suggestive.
Seoyeon chuckles at hearing his explanation. "Is that so?"
"It does," he insists. "But only if you want to stop it."
"I don't believe you," she retorts, her voice playful.
"Well, then... Shall we find out?" the man offers.
"Fine. Go ahead," she gives in, her voice tinged with a hint of teasing.
The man then leans closer, his face just inches away from hers. You can see her blushing cheeks and biting her lips. He then slowly brings his lips closer to hers, stopping just a hair's breadth away.
"Ready, Miss?" he whispers.
"Mhmm," she nods her head. “Go ahead.”
Seoyeon closes her eyes, waiting patiently for the kiss to happen. But the bartender has other plans. He moves his lips to the side of her mouth and kisses her cheek.
"Ah?" she sighs, her eyes fluttering open.
"Not there, right?" the bartender teases her, a playful grin appearing on his lips.
"Oh, you!" she giggles, slapping his arm playfully.
"My bad," he says, giggling. He then leans in once more. "Here, let me try again."
His lips finally land on hers, kissing her. They start slowly, moving their lips against each other gently and sensually. The two of them eventually get lost in the moment, enjoying the taste of each other's lips. After a while, they pull apart, gasping for air.
"There. Better?" the bartender asks.
Seoyeon examines herself, finding no more hiccups. She then smiles, looking at him with bright eyes.
"Yes," she breathes out, her voice filled with relief. "I think it worked."
"Well that's great," he responds, a pleased smile forming on his face.
The two looked at each other for a moment, a comfortable silence falling over them.
"I hope it won't come back," she says, her voice low and soft.
"It won't," he assures her, chuckling.
"Are you sure?" she asks him, her eyes locked at his’.
"Maybe... But why don't we make sure it won't?" he suggests, smirking.
Seoyeon's face flushes even redder, and she quickly averts her gaze.
"Hmmm…" she trails off, a slight tremble in her voice. “I guess we can try.”
The bartender's eyes then travel along the contours of her face, his gaze settling on her lips. He then leans closer, his nose brushing against hers.
"Shall we try it again?" he asks, his voice husky and filled with desire.
Seoyeon's breathing hitches and her heart pounds in her chest.
"Sure," she answers breathlessly.
He then brings his lips to hers and begins kissing her deeply. Their tongues immediately tangle together as their lips move in sync, like a romantic dance. His hand caresses the nape of her neck, while her hands rest on his shoulders, holding him close. As their lips continue to collide, their bodies become even closer. He gently pushes her body down, making her lean on the sofa, his lips never leaving hers.
"Mmmh... Fuck," she moans against his mouth.
The bartender's kisses eventually trail down her chin and neck. The sensation of his lips against her skin sends her shivering, and she can't help but whimper softly.
"You like that?" the bartender murmurs against her neck, his voice deep and seductive.
"That feels good," she breathes out, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire.
"Want me to do it more?" he asks, his lips tracing a line along her jaw.
"Yeah... Mnhh…" she nods, her voice heavy with lust.
As his lips trail down her neck, he gently bites her skin, eliciting a soft moan from her.
"Ah! That's... Ohh!" she cries out, her voice shaky and breathless.
He continues kissing her neck, leaving small bite marks all over her.
"You smell so good, Seoyeon," he breathes against her ear, making her shudder.
"Thank you—oh fuck!" she moans, her head rolling back.
His hands then begin exploring her body. They caress her curves and trace the outline of her breasts. He gropes and fondles them through the thin fabric of her shirt, making her whimper in pleasure.
"Fuck. You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice dripping with lust.
"Ahh... I was about to say the same thing," she responds, her voice laced with desire.
"I'm happy to please," he murmurs, his lips brushing against her ear.
"And I'm glad to be pleased," she whispers back, her eyes locking onto his.
He then kisses her passionately, his tongue pushing inside her mouth.
"Mmmh!" she moans, her hands tangling in his hair.
Like a hungry animal, he hastily unbuttons her blouse, revealing her luscious breasts hidden behind a red lace bra.
"Shit, Seoyeon... These are perfect," he whispers, his voice hoarse and thick with desire.
"Looks like you're loving the view," she purrs, her eyes locked onto his.
"Oh, yeah. You're a fucking goddess," he replies, his gaze full of lust.
He then places his hand on her breasts and squeezes them, making her moan in pleasure. He then kisses her neck and licks the shell of her ear, his tongue flicking and teasing her sensitive skin.
"Mmmh! Fuck... Yes," she moans, her breathing ragged and labored.
"Do you like that, Seoyeon?" he growls, his lips trailing down her neck.
"Yeah! I love it," she moans, her voice heavy and desperate.
"Then let me show you something else you'll love," he growls, his eyes glinting with lust.
He then moves his hand between her legs and gently separates her thighs, revealing the matching red panties underneath.
"Oh fuck," she mutters, her voice filled with anticipation.
He slowly runs his fingers over her panties, teasing her through the thin fabric.
"You're so wet, Seoyeon," he whispers, his voice dripping with desire.
"You're the one who did this," she retorts, her voice filled with desire.
"Blaming me for it, huh?"
"Y-yes," she breathes out, her voice weak and shaky. "You're the one who has his hands all over me."
"Well, you're the one who looks so irresistible," he counters, his lips tracing the outline of her ear.
She moans, her voice quivering and breathless.
"Ah! Ohh... Fuck me," she whimpers, her voice heavy and pleading.
"Gladly," he growls, smiling.
With her permission, his hand dips between her legs and pushes her panties aside. Her partner is left breathless at the sight of her wet lips. But that didn’t stop him from rubbing his thumb against her inviting folds, making her whimper to his touch.
"Oh! Fuck, you're such a tease," Seoyeon comments, a slight snicker forming on her face.
His fingers continue to attack her sensitive bud, her toes curling as her grip on the couch tightens.
"Mmmm... Fuck," she mutters, her voice strained.
"You like that, huh?" he growls, his eyes dark and filled with lust.
"Oh, yeah," she moans, her body squirming and trembling.
He continues rubbing her wet folds, his fingers expertly pleasuring her.
"You're so fucking sexy, Seoyeon," he breathes, his voice thick with lust.
"Aah! Fuck! Fuck!" she cries out, her body writhing in pleasure.
"On your limit already?" he smirks.
"N-no! I'm just—ooh... So good," she whimpers, her voice breathless and shaky.
He chuckles at her reaction and continues pleasuring her, his fingers rubbing her sensitive flesh.
"Ah! Oh fuck," she cries out, her body writhing in ecstasy.
"My... Aren't you sensitive?" he teases, his voice tinged with amusement.
"Fuck off... Mhnn..."
He then slips a finger inside her wet pussy, making her gasp and moan.
"S-shit! That feels good!" she breathes, her voice shaky and weak.
"Looks like I hit a spot, huh?" he whispers, his voice thick with lust.
"Yeah! Mmmm... Don't stop," she moans, her body trembling and quivering.
He slides his finger deeper into her, his thumb rubbing her sensitive clit.
"Fucking hell! Oh shit," she gasps as her hips buck in the air.
"How does that feel, huh?" he growls at her, his voice thick with lust.
"W-what do you think? Mmmh!" she moans out.
"I bet it feels good," he says, his voice dripping with lust.
"Yeah! It does," she gasps out, her body squirming and trembling. "Now, hurry up and make me cum."
He smirks.
"With pleasure," he whispers, his voice low and seductive.
Suddenly, the camera cuts to a wide-angle shot, and you can see both the bartender's and Seoyeon's expressions change dramatically. The man's eyes widen, and his mouth falls open as he stares at the beautiful sight before him. Meanwhile, Seoyeon's face is contorted with pleasure as she moans loudly and squirms on the couch, her body arching and writhing uncontrollably. They look like they're in a state of pure bliss, a mesmerizing scene of intense intimacy and raw desire.
"Aah! Your… Your thing is—oh fuck!"
Seoyeon's loud, sensual cry fills the room as her body trembles and quivers, her pussy clenching and convulsing around the bartender's fingers. The bartender looks down at her in amazement, his face flushed with arousal and his eyes dark with lust.
"Getting close, are we?" the bartender asks, his voice dripping with desire.
"Yeah. I'm gonna cum soon," Seoyeon breathes, her voice shaking and quivering.
"You like this, don't you?"
"Fuck yeah... I do."
"Damn, you're incredible," he whispers to her ear, his voice hoarse and strained.
She lets out a weak, satisfied chuckle.
"I aim to please," she tells him, a playful tinge in her voice.
The bartender chuckles and leans down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Their tongues once again meet in a passionate dance, their bodies pressed close together. As their intense make-out session goes on, so do his fingers, pumping in and out of her pussy.
"Oh shit… Let it out, Seoyeon," he commands her, his voice husky and thick with lust.
Seoyeon's breathing becomes heavy and erratic, her body quivering and squirming under his touch. She whimpers and moans, her pussy clenching and convulsing around his fingers.
"I-I'm so close…" Seoyeon whimpers, her voice filled with desire.
"Then come for me," he growls, his voice dark and husky.
He pumps his fingers in and out of her pussy faster and faster, making her body tremble and convulse.
"Yes! Yes! Oh fuck! Yes!" she screams, her body arching and quivering in ecstasy.
"There. Let go, Seoyeon," he encourages her, his voice low and commanding.
"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna—oh fuck! I'm cumming!"
Seoyeon's body suddenly shudders and convulses as her orgasm hits her hard, sending her reeling in ecstasy. Her pussy clenches and convulses around his fingers, her juices spraying everywhere. She can be naughty at times, especially around her fellow members. But her current display of eroticism is on a whole different level.
"Mmmh! Ooh! Ohh! Fuck! Oh fuck!" she screams, her body writhing and shuddering in pleasure.
Her eyes roll back and her mouth falls open as she loses herself in the throes of pleasure, her body spasming and quivering uncontrollably. Her loud cries of pleasure and ecstasy fill the room as she rides the waves of her orgasm, her pussy clenching and convulsing around his fingers.
After what seems like an eternity, her orgasm subsides. The bartender looks at her, his eyes dark and lustful, while Seoyeon's are glazed and unfocused. They remain motionless for a few moments, both catching their breath.
"How was that, hmmm?" the bartender whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction.
"Oh f-fuck... It was incredible," Seoyeon tells him, her voice hoarse and shaky.
"You were amazing, Seoyeon," he responds, his voice heavy with desire.
"Thanks. You too," she replies, her breathing still labored and uneven.
"I'm glad I was able to please you," the bartender murmurs, his lips brushing against her neck.
Seoyeon shudders at his touch, her body still tingling from her orgasm.
"Nghh… Y-you definitely did," she breathes, her voice quivering and weak.
"Well, it's only natural for me to reciprocate," he chuckles, his voice low and seductive.
"Is that so?" she asks, breathless and husky.
"Mhmm," he hums, his lips trailing down her neck.
"I guess I should pay back the favor, then," she tells him, her voice heavy with desire.
The bartender then lays himself back on the couch, his hands crossed his head.
"Go ahead, then," he whispers, his voice dark and husky. "The floor's yours."
A smirk then forms on her face, her eyes burning with lust.
"Gladly."
Without hesitation, she proceeds to unbutton his pants. She works slowly and methodically, teasing him through his boxers. The bartender's breathing hitches and he bites his lip, watching her intently. Once she has unbuttoned his pants, she slides both his pants and boxers off, freeing his hardened member, already glistening with precum.
"Oh my," she coos, her voice dripping with lust.
She then leans down and takes a close look at his cock, her eyes studying it intently.
"See anything you like?" the bartender teasingly asks.
"Yeah, I do," Seoyeon answers, biting her lips.
"Why won't you indulge yourself, then?"
"If you insist," she tells him, her voice low and seductive.
Without hesitation, she begins playing with his dick, stroking and squeezing it with her hands. She licks her lips and leans down, kissing his shaft from top to bottom. Her movements are slow and sensual, making sure he feels every single one. He gasps and groans, his cock twitching and pulsing. She then takes the tip of his member into her mouth, planting a kiss before sucking on it gently.
"Mmmh, yes... That's it," the bartender murmurs, his voice thick with desire.
"You like that?" Seoyeon asks, her voice low and husky.
"Yeah. Keep going," the bartender breathes, smiling, his eyes closed and his head tilted back.
Seoyeon giggles and resumes her actions, slowly sliding his entire length into her mouth. She gags slightly at first but quickly recovers and starts sucking and licking his cock, slowly bobbing her head up and down.
"Fuck... You're so good at this," the bartender grunts, his hands gripping her hair.
"Mhmm," she moans, the sound vibrating against his member. "Dho yu luhv ith?"
"Fuck, yeah. Don't stop," he growls, his voice husky and full of desire.
As instructed, Seoyeon increases her speed and sucks harder, taking his cock as deep into her mouth as she can. The bartender groans and grunts, his body twitching and spasming.
"Ooh, Seoyeon. Just like that. That's so good," he pants, his voice heavy with lust.
Seoyeon hums in acknowledgment, sending a pleasurable vibration against his cock. She continues sucking and licking his hard shaft, her movements becoming more frantic and desperate.
"Shit, Seoyeon. You're amazing," the bartender groans, his body tensing up.
She keeps her pace and continues sucking and licking his member. The bartender seems to be getting closer and closer to climaxing, his body twitching and his cock throbbing. Suddenly, he grabs her hair and forces her head down, making her take his entire length into her mouth, taking her by surprise.
"Mbph? Mphh?!"
"Yes. Just like that. Suck that cock," he growls, his voice heavy and strained.
"Mmmh!! Mlph! Mlrgh! Mrrrh!"
She gags and coughs, but continues sucking and licking. She places her hands on his thighs, holding on tightly, determined to make him cum. In response, the bartender's hips begin thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth.
"Oh, fuck, yes. That's it, Seoyeon. Just like that," the bartender grunts, his voice low and strained.
He continues fucking her mouth, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. The room is filled with the ecstatic sounds of Seoyeon choking and gagging on his cock, their bodies twitching and writhing.
"Shit, Seoyeon. I'm close," the bartender growls, his voice thick and husky.
"Mrph?"
"Yeah. I'm gonna cum. Get ready," he groans, his hips thrusting and spasming.
The bartender then slows his movements, letting her suck his cock at her own pace. With one hand on her head, he guides her head up and down, almost at the same pace as his', taking his member into her mouth with ease. Her tongue swirls around the tip of his member, making him grunt and groan. This synchronous motion of pure pleasure unravels in front of the camera, the erotic act being captured in all its glory.
"Oh, shit. Yeah. Keep going. I'm gonna cum," the bartender growls, his breathing erratic and labored.
"Mhmm, mmmh," Seoyeon nods, her eyes closed, her mind focused on her task.
"Here it comes! Urgh! Fuck!" the bartender cries out, his body trembling and shuddering.
Seoyeon's movements become more frantic and desperate, her pace matching the bartender's. Suddenly, the bartender grabs her head with both hands and pulls it towards his body, forcing his cock deep into her throat. She gags and chokes as his cum sprays into her mouth and down her throat, making her eyes roll back in her head.
"Hahh… Fucking hell," the bartender pants, his breathing heavy and uneven.
He thrusts a few more times, emptying his load into her mouth. You can see in Seoyeon's face that she's swallowing his thick, warm seed, not letting a single drop of it go to waste. But it seems too much for her and she pulls out, coughing and gagging, cum spilling out of her mouth.
"Mmph! Ghck! Gah!"
"Fuck! Sorry, Seoyeon. I couldn't help it," the bartender says sheepishly.
She continues to cough and splutter, the bartender patting her back.
"Are you alright?" he asks, sounding concerned.
"Y-yeah. I'm… I’m fine," she replies, a bit of frustration in her voice.
"I may have overdone it," the bartender laughs, his tone light and cheerful.
"No kidding," she chuckles, her voice raspy. “You almost choked me.”
Seoyeon then swallows what's left of his cum inside his mouth, a satisfied smile on her face. He looks at her with utter awe, amazed at how a small lady like her was able to take his load.
"Fuck. That was hot," the bartender compliments her.
"Thank you," Seoyeon says, licking her lips. "That was quite fun, you know?"
The bartender nods in agreement. "Fuck… You're just making me want you even more."
Seoyeon chuckles. "Looks like someone wants more."
"What can I say? Thinking about what else you can do... It's making me crazy," he tells her, his voice husky and seductive.
She blushes and bites her lips. "I guess I'll have to find out for myself, huh?"
"I can help you with that," the bartender smirks as his hand reaches for his dick, stroking it back to life. To her amusement, it doesn’t take long before her shaft stands up on its own, tall and hard as it was.
She lets out a soft, breathless chuckle. "Well, aren't you energetic?"
"For you? It's a given," he replies, smirking.
"That flattery will get you anywhere," she grins.
"I'm sure it will," the bartender replies. "But for now…"
He suddenly leans in, his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers. His hand lands on one of the buttons of her blouse, ready to unclasp it. Their breathing becomes more shallow, adding to the tension in the room.
"This is where I want to be."
Seoyeon is seemingly satisfied with his response, evident in the slight curve of her lips as she looks into his eyes, anticipating his next move.
"What are you waiting for, then?" she hums, her voice soft and sultry.
The bartender's finger slowly slips through the first button, and the second one, then the third. The thrill makes Seoyeon shiver in excitement, reaching for his lips with hers. Eventually, he reaches the last one, and the bartender finally opens her blouse, revealing a red lace bra as her blouse slides down her shoulders, the thin fabric caressing her skin.
He takes a deep breath, his gaze filled with hunger. He immediately cups one of her breasts, massaging it, his lips then trail down her neck.
"Mmmh!" Seoyeon hums, her body quivering.
He then reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, making her gasp in surprise.
"Red suits you, Seoyeon," he breathes, his voice heavy with desire.
"Really now?" she chuckles, her voice low and seductive.
"I mean it. You look stunning."
She blushes. "Well, thank you—wah!"
The bartender then interrupts her by pulling off her bra, his eyes gazing upon her bare breasts. They're full and supple, perfectly proportioned for her size.
"Oh, wow…" he breathes out in wonder of the mounds of flesh before his eyes.
"Why you..." she chuckles, still shocked by his sudden move. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.
The bartender smiles sheepishly and leans forward, his face hovering above her breast.
“You look good, Seoyeon,” the bartender comments, his voice dripping with lust. “They really look good.”
"They're not much, really," she shrugs, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.
"Are you kidding? They're gorgeous," the bartender counters, his tone sincere.
"I guess..." she trails off, biting her lips.
"Do you mind if I touch them?"
"And what will you do if I don't?" she challenges him, her eyes burning with desire.
He doesn't answer her and instead proceeds to grab one of her breasts, kneading it softly.
"Mmmh," she hums, her voice heavy and sultry.
"Is this enough for an answer?"
"Maybe… For now," she answers, giggling.
His fingers pinch her nipple, a soft moan escapes her lips. His other hand then massages her other breast, making her gasp and whimper.
"Aah... Y-you're a bit rough, aren't you?" she mutters, her voice strained.
"Am I? I'll try to be gentler, then," he responds, his voice low and husky.
"Don't even try," she says, her voice hoarse and strained.
The bartender smiles and continues playing with her breasts, his movements becoming rougher and more aggressive.
"Hah! Aah!" she cries out, her body arching and shuddering.
His lips then find their way to her breasts, leaving kisses and bite marks all over them.
"S-shit," she moans, her voice quivering and weak.
"Does it feel good, Seoyeon?" the bartender asks, his voice dark and husky.
"F-fuck yeah," she breathes, her voice heavy and strained.
"Do you like it when I play with these?" he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear.
"O-of course," she moans, her voice hoarse and breathless.
"Would you like me to do it some more?"
"Fuck yes..."
"As you wish," he replies, a sly grin forming on his face.
The bartender then places both of his hands on her breasts, squeezing and groping them.
"Mmmh! Ahh!"
"Your breasts are so soft, Seoyeon," he coos as he firmly gropes them, his voice low and husky.
"Ooh! Oh f-fuck," she gasps from his touch, her voice strained and shaky.
"Tell me how it feels."
"Amazing... Mmmh, yeah," she breathes, her eyes fluttering. "I love it."
"That's good," the bartender grins, his voice low and sultry.
His lips then trail down her body, his hands exploring her curves. He eventually stops at her skirt, his fingers slowly unzipping it.
"Let's get this off, shall we?"
"Yes, please," she nods, her voice weak and breathless.
He removes her skirt and panties in one go, leaving her fully naked in front of him. He tosses it high in the air, his gaze fixed on her pussy.
"Now, that's a sight," the bartender growls at the marvelous view, his eyes wide and filled with lust.
"You like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.
"You know I do," the bartender replies, his voice thick and husky.
She chuckles. "I figured you would."
He takes a step forward and runs his finger along her slit, making her whimper and squirm.
"You look breathtaking," the bartender murmurs, his eyes filled with hunger.
"Mmmh, yeah. That feels nice," she sighs, her body squirming.
"Do you want more?" he asks, his finger slowly tracing her wet folds.
"Y-yeah... I need it," she moans, her voice breathless and desperate.
"Tell me what you need," the bartender asks, grinning.
"I need you. I need you inside me," she whimpers, her face flushed and her breathing labored.
"Is that so?"
"Yes. I fucking want it,” she begs, her voice hoarse and strained.
“Hmmm... Well, then,” the bartender grins, satisfied by her response.
“Please… Oh fucking please…”
Before he gives in to Seoyeon's pleas, he looks at the timer displayed on the monitor. There's less than an hour left before the challenge begins.
"Well, I guess we have some more time," the bartender tells her, a mischievous grin forming on his face.
"Then why don't we make the most of it?" she asks, her voice low and seductive. She spreads her legs wide open, showing him her glistening wet folds.
"Why, that’s a good idea."
He then stands up and starts taking off his clothes, wildly throwing each piece aside. Soon, he's completely naked in front of her. Seoyeon's eyes widen and she bites her lips as she watches this display, her gaze travels along his body. She takes in his muscles and broad shoulders, his strong arms and abs, and finally, his cock, already hard and twitching.
"Like what you see?" he asks, his voice dripping with desire.
"Definitely," she answers with a devilish smirk.
The bartender smirks and leans forward, his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers'. His hand finds its way to her hair, tangling in her long black locks.
"I can't fucking wait any longer," he growls, his voice husky and filled with lust.
"Me neither," she pants, her voice heavy and breathless.
"How do you want it, Seoyeon? How do you want me?"
She bites her lips and smiles.
"Surprise me," she challenges him.
"Oh, I intend to."
Without another word, he pushes her down, making her lay flat on her back. He then climbs on top of her and positions himself between her legs. He leans forward and grabs her wrists, pinning her down.
"Oh fuck," she breathes, her body trembling.
"Ready for this?" the bartender asks, his voice dark and husky.
"Yes... Fuck me like you mean it," she commands him, her voice filled with desire.
He prepares himself, pressing his length against her wetness.
"As you wish," the bartender tells her, his voice low and husky.
Without further hesitation, he plunges his cock into her pussy, making her scream in pleasure.
"Ahh! Oh shit!"
"Yeah, that's right," the bartender growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.
"Yes... Oh, you're so big," she groans, her voice strained and shaky.
The bartender then thrusts his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside her, making her scream in pleasure.
"Fuck, you're tight," he breathes, his eyes filled with lust.
"Mmmh, yeah... Give it to me," she moans, her voice heavy and sultry.
He grunts and continues pumping his cock in and out of her, his hips slamming against hers. She moans and whimpers, her body writhing and convulsing.
"Ohhh... Yes, that's so good," she moans, her voice hoarse and strained.
"Liking it?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.
"O-oh, yes," she nods, her face flushed.
"I'll make you feel even better," the bartender promises, his voice low and sultry.
He places his hands on her waist and grips her tightly, his fingers digging into her skin. He amps up his speed, pounding into her harder and faster. She gasps and arches her back, her body squirming and quivering.
"Ohh fuck... Oh fuck!" she screams, her voice breathless and ragged.
"Yeah. That's it, Seoyeon," he growls, his voice low and husky.
"Fuck... You're wrecking my—nghh!" she cries out, her voice strained and shaky.
"I'm gonna destroy your pussy," the bartender tells her, his voice thick and hoarse.
"Ooh, f-fuck me..." she whimpers, her eyes rolling back.
He then grabs her legs and lifts them, making her wrap them around his waist. He thrusts his cock deeper into her, his pace relentless.
"There we go," he grunts, his voice hoarse and heavy.
"Fuck, yes! Harder!" she cries out, her body arching and spasming. "Fuck me harder!"
He continues his assault, his hips slamming against hers' repeatedly, his cock pistoning in and out of her.
"Yes... Oh fuck... Mmmh, just like that," she whimpers, her voice breathless and ragged.
"Ugh... Your pussy is getting tighter," he growls, his body tensing up.
"Y-you... Your cock..." she stutters, her words failing her.
"Yeah? You like my cock, huh?"
"I-it'sh getting... Even bigger inshide me... Mnhh," she mewls out, her voice starting to become slurry.
"Yeah. Take that fucking cock," he growls, his voice filled with desire.
"Yesh... Oh fuhg..."
Her eyes roll back, her body twitching and spasming. Seoyeon starts to drool from her mouth, her eyes glazed and unfocused. Her hands grip his arms tightly, her nails digging into his skin.
"Nghh... You're close, aren't you?" the bartender asks, his voice gruff and rough.
"Hngg! Oh s-shit!" she cries out, her body arching and squirming.
He suddenly slows down his pace, making her whine in frustration.
"What the fuck—Mngh?!"
He then leans forward and kisses her passionately, his tongue exploring her mouth. He keeps a steady pace, his cock moving in and out of her slowly, driving her mad. She moans and whimpers, her body writhing and trembling.
"I fuhging lhuv dish," Seoyeon says, her words slurred, her voice barely audible.
"Oh? And what else do you love, hmm?"
"F-fuhking me... Fuhking my pushy," she tells him, her voice breathless and shaky.
"You love this, huh?" he asks, teasing her with slow yet powerful thrusts.
"Yesh... So m-mush," she moans, her voice weak and strained.
"I'll make you love it even more, then," the bartender growls as he pounds her harder, his pace becoming rougher and harder.
"Oh god... I lhuv you," Seoyeon mumbles, her voice weak.
"Mmhm. I love you too," the bartender replies, kissing her again.
Seoyeon wraps her arms around his neck, her nails clawing his skin. Her legs wrap around his waist, her heels digging into his back. The room is filled with the sounds of their flesh slapping together and their lust-filled voices, moaning and groaning as their bodies writhe and grind against each other.
"F-fuck... Oh yesh!"
"Yes. Fuck yes," the bartender growls. "You know you love it."
Despite their paces amping up, their bodies move in perfect sync. Their hips rocking against each other, their rhythm perfect. Non-fans wouldn't think it's their first time being intimate together, their actions are fluid and natural. It's a spectacle to behold.
"Fuck, fuck... Mhhh! I'm gonna..."
"You wanna cum, Seoyeon?"
"Y-yeah. I wanna cum so bad!"
"Then come," he whispers into her ear. "Come for me, Seoyeon."
"I'm... I'm gonna—oh shit! I'm c-cumming!"
Her body tenses up, her back arching. She screams in ecstasy as her orgasm hits her, her pussy clenching and convulsing as she displays another intense orgasm, her juices spraying everywhere.
"Ohh! Oh f-fuck! I-I can't stop cumming! Mmmmh!"
"Fuck yeah... Squirt all over me, Seoyeon," the bartender growls, his voice husky and filled with desire.
Her whole body trembles and shakes, her limbs flailing around uncontrollably. The immense pressure of her orgasm causes his cock to slide out of her.
"Oh, shit! I-I'm cumming again!"
"That's it. Let it all out," the bartender growls, his cock throbbing with arousal.
The petite vixen continues to scream and wail as she climaxes, her body trembling and convulsing. Her juices gush out of her pussy and splash onto the bartender's abdomen, soaking him in her sweet nectar.
"Fuck, you're incredible," the bartender tells her, his voice husky and filled with desire.
Eventually. Seoyeon's fantastic waterworks show subsides, leaving her a trembling, gasping mess. She can barely reply, her mind still hazy from her orgasms.
"Hngh... Mnhh... I..."
"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen," he responds, his voice thick and hoarse. The bartender smiles at her, his eyes burning with hunger.
"You... Y-you're..." she mumbles, her words failing her.
"Amazing, right?"
"Y-yeah. You are..."
"Again, I aim to please."
He then leans forward and kisses her once again, softly, his lips brushing against hers. He grabs her breast and squeezes it gently, making a soft moan escape her lips. His tongue gently enters her mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting her sweet juices. Albeit weak from the multiple orgasms she just experienced, she responds in kind. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their tongues dance around each other, their kisses deep and passionate.
"Mmmh… So good," she moans, her voice weak.
His hands roam her body, squeezing and kneading her breasts. His fingers pinch and rub her nipples, making her gasp and whimper.
"You really are gorgeous," he tells her, his voice low and husky.
"Why, you're quite the charmer yourself," she chuckles, breathless and husky.
"Only because you bring it out in me," he grins, his eyes filled with desire.
She giggles. "Why do I think it's not the first time you said that?"
"What makes you say that?" he asks, his voice heavy and seductive.
"I don't know, really," she laughs weakly. "You look like the player type."
He chuckles at her. "I promise you, I'm not a player."
"Whatever you say," she says, giggling.
"But I'd love to play with you," he tells her, his voice low and sultry.
"Mmhm. I'm sure you would," she replies, still catching her breath.
The bartender then leans forward and kisses her again, their tongues dancing around each other, their bodies grinding against each other. They lose themselves in the moment, their movements becoming more frantic and desperate.
"Mhnn... It's your turn, mister," Seoyeon coos, her voice low and seductive.
The bartender smiles and nods, his cock throbbing with arousal. He then carries her to the table next to them and lays her down on it. He positions himself between her legs, his cock pressed against her pussy.
"This is gonna be fun," he growls, his voice low and husky.
Seoyeon smiles at him and wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
"Do your worst," she tells him, her voice low and sultry.
The bartender then grabs her hips and slides his cock into her wet folds, making her gasp and whimper.
"Mmmh... Fuck, yes..." she moans, her voice heavy and strained.
The bartender then begins thrusting his cock in and out of her, his pace relentless.
"Ahhh! Yes! Oh, fuck..." she cries out, her voice strained and shaky.
He continues to pound into her, his hips slamming against hers. He grunts and groans as he fucks her even harder, his movements becoming faster and more frantic.
"Oh, shit! You feel so fucking good," he growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.
"Fuck yeah... Give me that fucking cock," she moans, her voice heavy and sultry.
"As you wish," he growls as he amps up his speed, his thrusts becoming rougher and harder.
"Yes! Oh fuck... Yes!" she screams, her voice strained and shaky.
Her eyes roll back and her body trembles, her orgasm building up inside her.
"Fuck... Oh fuck! Sho beeg!"
The bartender laughs. "I know. You love it, don't you?"
"Yesh! Oh fuck... Yesh I lhuv ith!" she screams, her voice weak and almost incoherent.
He laughs. “I thought so."
He then places his hand on her neck, gently pressing down on her throat.
"Nghk... Mnah!" she yelps, her eyes widening.
"You like this, huh? You like when I choke you?" the bartender growls, his voice thick and husky.
She nods, weakly. "Oh yesh... Choke me hard—Nghh!"
He squeezes her throat tighter, making her gasp. He then leans forward and goes for another passionate kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. Seoyeon can't help but accept it, her lips parting. Their tongues dance around each other, their bodies grinding against each other. As it happens, he revs up his pace, pounding into her harder and faster, his hips slamming against hers.
"Oh shit! Yesh! Jusht like that!" Seoyeon screams, her voice is strained and shaky.
Her body arches and spasms, her nails digging into his skin. His grip around her throat tightens as he continues to fuck her, his thrusts becoming rougher and harder.
"Ohh! Oh fuck... Yesh... Yesh! I'm gonna—oh shit! I'm cumming!" she cries out, her voice hoarse and strained.
"You wanna cum, Seoyeon? You wanna cum all over my cock?" the bartender growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.
"Y-yeah... I wanna cum... Oh fuck..." she moans, her voice breathless and strained.
"Let's cum together, then," he growls as he pounds into her relentlessly, his hips slamming against hers'.
"Yesh... Oh yesh! Ghiv it to me!" she screams, her body writhing and convulsing.
"You want my cum so badly, huh?"
"Yesh, pleash!" Seoyeon begs, her voice weak and shaky. "Fill me up with your fucking cum!"
"With pleasure," he breathes out, his tone desperate.
The bartender then repositions himself, he squats on top of Seoyeon with his feet planted firmly on the ground and his hands on her knees, pulling her legs up against his shoulders, allowing him to thrust deeper and harder. This speed is unlike what he’s done to her earlier, this time he's more brutal and animalistic, and his grunts are guttural. Add Seoyeon's wanton screams of pleasure to the mix and it creates an audio-visual treat.
The cameras are capturing such an incredibly indecent act. It's nothing like you've seen in any porn or erotic media. It's primal, it's savage, it's visceral. It's fucking hot.
The bartender's cock pounds into her tight little pussy relentlessly, her body trembling and squirming beneath him. Her eyes roll back and her mouth opens wide in a silent scream, her orgasm building inside her.
"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" she cries out, her voice hoarse and strained.
"Urgh... I'm close, Seoyeon. You ready?" the bartender grunts, his voice heavy and husky.
"Cum... Ghiv me your cum," she breathes, her voice heavy and sultry.
"You fucking slut," the bartender growls.
"Y-yesh..." she stutters, her eyes rolling back. “I’m your fucking shlut.”
He thrusts his cock into her even faster, his hips slamming against hers. He pounds her as hard as he can, his thrusts becoming rougher and more brutal. His breathing becomes more ragged and erratic, his body tensing up. While Seoyeon lets out an animalistic howl, a guttural noise from the back of her throat, the bartender grunts and groans.
"Here it comes, Seoyeon! I'm gonna—Nrgh!" the bartender growls, his eyes rolling back.
"Pleash! Oh, pleash!" Seoyeon screams, her voice hoarse and shaky.
He lets out a loud groan as his thrust his cock deeper inside her, spurting white stuff all over her pussy’s walls.
"Argh! Take it, Seoyeon!"
"Ohh! Oh fuck, yesh!" Seoyeon screams, her eyes rolling back.
After a few strong thrusts, the bartender's hips come to a sudden halt, then bucks them, as he pours his load inside her. Seoyeon can't do anything but lie there and take his load, her body twitching and shuddering, her moans hoarse and shaky.
"Ooh... Fuck yeah," the bartender groans, his eyes fluttering shut.
"Ahh... Your cum... Sho mush... Nghhh!" she moans, her voice low and sultry.
"So tight, Seoyeon…" the bartender whispers, his voice thick and husky.
He thrusts his cock in and out of her several more times as if milking his cock dry. Each time he withdraws, a mixture of their fluids coats his shaft before being pushed back in, creating wet sounds as the excess spills out of her.
After a while, the bartender withdraws from her, a large amount of his cum dripping out of her abused pussy. She moans and writhes as he removes himself from her warm folds. And once free, she starts to squirt uncontrollably. Her lewd juices, mixed with his seed, splattered everywhere. She moans and whimpers as she experiences an intense yet silent orgasm, her body convulsing and twitching like something similar to an X-rated movie. It's obscene and vulgar.
"Shit, you're letting out a lot," the bartender breathes.
"Ohh! O-oh god!" she cries out, her body spasming.
The bartender just chuckles and looks at her, a satisfied smile on his face.
After what might be a minute of her uncontrollable orgasm, Seoyeon collapses onto the table, gasping and panting. She's completely spent.
"Damn, that was hot," the bartender breathes.
Seoyeon desperately catches her breath, her chest heaving up and down. Her mind is hazy and cloudy, her thoughts jumbled and unfocused.
"You did great, Seoyeon," he says, patting her head.
Seoyeon doesn't respond, her eyes fluttering.
"It's okay, you can rest now," he assures her.
Suddenly, a loud ring emanates from a distance. The bartender looks at where the sound came from. The camera then switches to the view of the timer. It's up.
"Damn. Time's up," the bartender sighs.
One of the staff members can be heard speaking up.
"Mister bartender... Seoyeon... It's time for the challenge," the staff member informs them.
"Understood," the bartender nods. "However..."
He shifts his attention to Seoyeon, who's still a picture of a blissful, fucked up mess.
"I don't think she can right now," the bartender chuckles.
"But the challenge," the staff member reminds him.
"Well, I don't really have a say in this," he shrugs. "It's her challenge to do, not mine."
The rest of the staff then discuss the current situation with each other. Meanwhile, the bartender checks up on Seoyeon. He cups her cheek, causing her to open her eyes slowly.
"Hey. Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle and concerned.
Seoyeon just responds with a weak smile.
"Can you still do the challenge?"
Looking disappointed, Seoyeon shakes her head, still weak.
"You'll fail the challenge if you don't do it," the bartender warns her, a calm tone to his voice.
"I—ugh... Hahh... My body's too weak to move," she admits, still catching her breath.
"I'm sorry," he tells her. "I didn't mean to get that rough."
"No, it's alright. It was fun, anyway," she tells him, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.
"Thank you," the bartender smiles, relief evident on his face.
"I… I aim to please," she jests, a weak smirk forming on her lips.
The bartender laughs gently.
"So... Are you forfeiting the challenge?" he asks, his tone worried.
"Yeah... I guess I am," Seoyeon admits, looking down.
"That's unfortunate," he sighs.
"I'm sorry," she mumbles, her voice low and timid.
"Don't be," he replies, his voice kind and reassuring. "It's not your fault."
"Thanks, I appreciate it," she nods.
The bartender then turns to the rest of the crew, telling them what they just discussed. The staff nods in response.
"Unfortunately, Seoyeon has failed the challenge," the staff informs everyone.
"I'm sorry, everyone," Seoyeon weakly says.
"You have nothing to be sorry about," the staff member tells her. "We hope you still had fun."
"That I did," she smiles. "Thank you."
The timer on the monitor then disappears, followed by a message showing up:
"Sorry, Seoyeon. You failed the challenge. The pair should then proceed to the final area after a signal in a few hours. In the meantime, you can do whatever you want together in this area."
Seoyeon sighs. "That sucks."
"At least you still got to have some fun," the bartender replies.
"Fair point," she smiles. "You sure rocked my world, mister bartender."
"Why, thank you," the bartender chuckles. "But again, I'm sorry," he apologizes, his voice filled with guilt.
"Again, it's fine," she reassures him, her hand reaching for his.
The bartender looks at her hand and smiles. He squeezes her hand lightly in return.
"Well, I'm sure you're still tired from all of that,"
"You got that right," she chuckles.
"Then why don't you get some rest?" he asks, his voice gentle and soothing.
She nods, weakly.
"Thank you," she smiles.
He returns the smile and gently pats her head. Cradling her in his arms, he carries her over to a nearby couch, unblemished by their earlier debauchery. As Seoyeon settles into the plush cushions, she closes her eyes and succumbs to fatigue. Sitting down beside her, the bartender's hand rests on her thigh as he observes her drifting off to sleep. Even as the video fades out, the camera manages to capture Seoyeon's captivating figure; and you can't help but admire every inch of her nude body looking serene in sleep.
A few minor adjustments and another video is ready, revealing their intimate moments for the world to see. As you wrap up the video editing, hunger finally hits you after delaying it for so long. You quickly prepare the next episode of the show before going out to grab a well-deserved meal.
Pretty sure everyone will love to see the “captain” in action.
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Author’s Notes:
Another Spotlighting chapter down and many more to go! Thinking of a plot is easy with Seoyeon, but executing it is what's challenging. Not only am I clueless about her drinking habits, but I'm also clueless how people "make love in this club". 😅 So I might have to apologize if some (if not most) parts of the story are hard to read. Though I still hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter nonetheless.
And again... I would like to thank @digipigichopshop for lending his time in helping me writing this one. As well was @braaan for this really awesome poster. This might be my favorite so far, to be honest. I like what you did with the spotlight effect. 👍
Once more, thank you very much for reading! 🙇
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To find the light, we must first touch the darkness
Please also check out @bluepinkangel’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤
dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader
summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.
warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; power imbalance; forced relationship; violence; death (minor character); D/s undertones; gun play; gun play kink; explicit sexual situation; faint choking kink; mention of breeding kink;
I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜
word count: 8k
Touch the Darkness Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Chapter 4. Heated hail
~ * ~
Hues of orange and purple brushed over the horizon in softest strokes as the sun settled down, but your heart couldn’t settle in your chest, every few hours jumping into a rapid patter to the tune of anxiety.
Staying in the safety of your apartment for two days after the horrid events didn’t help much, it still felt impossible to ease into your new life with its stains of alluring darkness.
You called in sick the morning after your engagement. Then stayed home for another day, as well. Hiding worked no miracles, your brain was very much conscious of the events that happened and of the things awaiting you, but at least you didn’t have to face it all for those few more hours of denial.
Though no one appeared on your doorstep and you didn’t sense any eyes on you as you occasionally walked out onto your tiny balcony, you were convinced that Steve knew very well where you were.
At all times.
It was a blessing he didn’t march into your home with a wedding gown, forcing you to say the vows immediately. You half expected it, since your continued talk after the kiss included Steve’s announcement that you’re to be married in a month.
He wasn’t interested in waiting.
It seemed that even when Steve Rogers appeared patient, it was only when he knew the results he demanded would come precisely in the time window he approved of.
Giving you a month was undoubtedly an act of grace in his eyes, since he could’ve as well dragged you in front of some registrar the very next day.
Or maybe it was a wicked torment on his part, making you organize a wedding you didn’t really want. Not ripping off the band aid quickly, but making conscious decisions (as indifferent as they may be) about details regarding the ceremony of binding yourself to Steve for life.
True torture was playing the part of shocked and grief-stricken when Natalie called you a few hours earlier to inform you of Felix’s tragic car accident.
You nearly laughed hysterically at that.
Car accident. Sure.
Against a truck branded Rogers.
You had no idea if they staged it so that it looked like an accident after they'd beaten him to death (or done worse things to him), or if Rogers had enough officers under his thumb that they classified it as such, without letting anyone know the truth.
But you knew the truth. Most of it, anyway, without gory details.
Maybe you shouldn’t feel sad, considering Felix gave you to another mobster on a silver platter. Who knows how that meeting would go, if Steve hadn’t intervened. However, you were still human and, even if occasionally you felt a taste for drawing blood when someone pissed you off, you didn’t wish anyone death.
You would have to play the shocked and sorrowful employer in front of the health center employees, which was also why you dreaded going back to work.
It would be easier, perhaps, if your mind reacted in the way it was supposed to.
Though you knew people reacted to trauma in various ways, there were certain symptoms you expected from yourself. They never came.
When you dragged yourself to bed, you fell asleep easily. Steve Rogers haunted your dreams, but they weren’t exactly nightmares you’d expect.
Those dreams were ridiculous, really. Dark, yes. In a gothic horror setting almost. No terror wrecked your body, however. You didn’t scream in fear, nor wake up drenched in sweat as you dreamt of running away from the altar only to fall straight into Rogers’ arms.
You were processing it all too logically, as if you were only wedding stressed and annoyed with Rogers, not in fear for your life and that of your loved ones.
If you were your own patient, you’d ask yourself if there were aspects of the arrangement with Steve that you found benefiting? Something that perhaps drew you to him?
You still had no answer to that question as you finally walked into the health center on the next day.
Steady, slow steps; a pace perhaps a heartbeat slower than your usual. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor echoing through the quiet halls.
Natalie waited for you in your office, as she always did without fail. In a way, she was playing a role just like you; wearing a mask to function without a hitch. Organizer in hand, she recited to you the changes she made due to your short sick leave and those that needed to be made for the day of Felix’s funeral.
A thought crossed your mind briefly, of what Steve would say about you going to Felix’s funeral. Since he apparently belonged to a branch of the mafia, attendance of Hydra mobsters and other of their operatives was highly possible, and you didn’t think Rogers would want you anywhere near them.
You viewed yourself as merely a civilian boss of the man that passed, but you possessed enough intelligence to recognize you were now also a part of a rivaling mob - no matter how reluctant your participation was.
Not only by shared business, but ranking now much higher in your status as the fiancée to the ruthless mob boss.
You didn’t mention to Natalie that you weren’t sure if you’d be going to the funeral at all, only nodding at her skilfully reorganized schedule.
“There’s one more thing,” she said, closing her calendar.
She walked to the door, opened them and beckoned someone over. A young man, a boy really, entered your office with a shy smile on his face.
Unruly hair, which he combed neatly, but they still betrayed harmlessly chaotic functioning of youth. A pressed collar of a button down shirt peeked above his blue cardigan. He reminded you of first year students, or apprentices at their first posting.
The first person in the past few days who seemed innocent and you welcomed that change with a softened heart.
“This is Peter Parker.” Natalie announced.
“Hi! Nice to meet you,” the boy cut the space between the two of you and extended his hand for you to shake.
“Peter has just applied for our vacant position.” Natalie’s voice remained neutral and professional, but the way she accented vacant position left no doubt that it meant Felix’s job.
Which shouldn’t be announced this soon. No one would post an ad without your authorization. So unless one of the center’s workers tried to push his own son or nephew into free position, that Parker kid was sent in by someone who knew of the brutally gained opening.
“Son of a bitch.” You cursed under your breath.
Natalie arched a single brow, but said nothing as you picked up your phone and unlocked it with a murderous glare. Parker said nothing either, only looked your way slightly bewildered.
Shame that Rogers didn’t warn him about your newly discovered tendencies to outbursts.
That it was Steve Rogers’ move, you had no doubt.
You found his name in your contacts - Steve typed it in himself, teasing you that a fiancée should have her future husband’s number in her phone.
He picked up quickly, actually surprising you that he answered at all. You thought his phone number to be more of a reminder for you that you gave yourself away to him, rather than being able to actually call him. So when you heard his voice on the other end of the line, you choked on your words for a second.
“Princess?”
You wondered if he saved your number under that pet name.
“The center was supposed to remain under my control,” you hissed into the phone when you regained your voice. “Hiring people should be my decision.”
“Peter’s very approachable and he learns fast,” came Steve’s reply; his voice soft, but there was that lining of finality to his decision.
You paused, once again surprised. This time by the fact Steve wasn’t playing lying games, just cutting straight to the core of the problem. Which also meant he anticipated your reaction, but did it anyway, disregarding your opinion on the matter.
You’d laugh at the irony of it - that a man being truthful and direct in an important conversation (traits you valued), at the same time was the fucking bane of your existence.
“Is he even of age?” You snorted, glancing Parker’s way. “He looks sixteen.”
“I’m twenty two.” Peter chimed in and you frowned.
He really didn’t look to be over twenty. Then again, in the past you’ve been asked for an ID even though you were way over twenty five. You had no idea how young people were when they started working for the mob.
Perhaps Rogers had no conscience and hired kids for dirty jobs too.
“He’s legal,” Steve sounded amused. “No forged papers on him. Lives alone with his aunt, so a solid job, like the one at the center, is something he needs.”
You did not believe in Rogers’ sympathy, not for a second. Perhaps he took care of his employees in a peculiar way, but you wouldn’t mistake it for him actually caring if Peter’s dreams come true, or if his economical status is secured.
Moreover, you suspected he used Peter’s wobbling financial stability as a means to lure him into the mafia in the first place.
“Then he could’ve applied without your commendation. Since it’s his own motivation to work here, right?” You allowed yourself a defiant tilt of your chin and a challenging gaze, since Steve couldn’t see it anyway.
You weren’t stupid to believe Steve pushed the kid into this position only because Peter needed it. More likely, Steve wanted someone from his own batch to infiltrate the center. Maybe even to keep an eye on you, though you seriously didn’t imagine how a barely-out-of-teens boy was supposed to do that.
“Recommendation is an additional bonus to an otherwise great employee you’ll be hiring.”
You didn’t know Steve well enough yet to assess by his tone alone if he was growing annoyed with this conversation, or rather bored (since he knew you would be agreeing to his demands anyway, unless you wanted more harm happening).
“That depends on the recommendation,” you muttered, too late realizing you said it out loud.
“You don’t trust my word, Princess?” A deeper timbre resounded in Steve’s voice, sending a shiver across your skin.
He wasn’t there, but you could easily imagine the glint in his blue eyes as he peered at you from beneath his long eyelashes. An edge of a blade caressing your breakable skin.
“I’m miffed at you planting your fucking seeds in my center, when it was supposed to stay under my care!”
There was a pause after you snapped.
One in which you cursed yourself inwardly for once again antagonizing someone who held your life in his hands, quite literally. Your heart thumped loudly, you felt the echo of it through your bones.
However, when Steve’s voice returned with a reply, it wasn’t a promise of your death.
Though it may as well have been, considering his words.
“I can plant different seeds, if you wish. Inside you, Princess.”
Your intake of breath was sharp, your pupils widened and your mouth hung open. He did not just say that!, your mind screeched, while your body roused in alertness.
You hung up the phone without uttering a single more word to Steve, then tossed it to the far edge of the desk as if it burned you. Your gaze lingered on it for a moment longer, in fear of it ringing to life.
You couldn’t comment on Steve’s innuendo. Acknowledging it meant recognizing this particular aspect of marriage, which you somehow repressed from your mind.
No, your marriage to Rogers was supposed to be only on paper, only for his gain of the lands and immunity.
A facade, with a shiny ring and your new last name stained with the blood of Steve’s opponents. Not a true merging of two people, neither in minds nor in hearts, definitely not in bodies.
A quiver pattered down your spine like a strummed string at the sudden, vivid image of Rogers’ thick body pressing into your naked space.
Fear, it had to be. But it also carried a rush of adrenaline that tingled in your nipples and brought heat to the sensitive shell of your ear.
“I need a break,” you shook yourself out of it and abruptly moved. “I’m going for coffee.”
“I can make you some,” Natalie offered, observing you with perfectly masked curiosity.
It was a change in your behavior, this sudden restlessness and outbursts of unresolved tension. As stressful as taking over a big health center was, you managed to remain calm and professional since the first day. Natalie witnessed you roll your eyes a few times and assertively set yourself, but this was a novelty.
She could only assume it was because of the tragic loss of an employee so early in your work, maybe suspect Rogers was threatening you. You doubted she’d ever imagine the extent of sweet terror he planned for you.
“No, I have to get out for a few minutes.” You weren’t even sure you really wanted coffee, a shot of vodka would be a better option.
But you needed to step outside for a few minutes; to not see Peter’s boyish face with its innocence written all over it, while you knew the darkness he was signing his soul to. You hoped his only job was to tattle on you.
You grabbed your handbag, purposely ignored your phone still hanging on the edge of the desk, and strode toward the exit.
“What about Peter?” Natalie asked before you reached the door, both of them staring at you expectantly.
“Hire him.” You sighed, anger whipping in your tone.
“And you!” You glared Peter’s way. “Make sure your other boss knows that within these walls your duties are only to the center.”
It was a bold statement. One you probably had no leverage to actually make real. In terms of power, Rogers had more of it, since he had it also over you. If he gave Peter a different task to run along his duties at the health center, that order would come first.
Still, you wanted to make your opinion clear and install some respect for the work here.
As you walked to the nearby coffee shop, you glanced around a few times to check if anyone was following you. You had no proof of Rogers sending someone to trail you, yet you were convinced of it.
If he had, they were skilled at blending in, since no one seemed suspicious to you.
The usual buzzing noise of the coffee shop - conversations combined with quiet music and clinking of glass - felt like a soothing lullaby to your strained nerves. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries.
By the time you got your order, you had mostly calmed down. You were still pissed off, but there was no point in exhausting yourself fighting a losing battle.
It was time to accept the uncomfortable truth of Steve’s upper hand. At all times.
As you stirred your coffee with a paper spatula, someone stepped next to you. In your peripheral vision you caught their hand reaching for three packets of sugar.
“I’d suspect having Rogers on your tail requires a stronger brew than coffee.” A smooth, melodic male voice started casually.
His words froze you in place for a second, trepidation stopping your heart and then rushing it into a rapid beat.
You said nothing, tossing your spatula into the bin and quickly reaching for the cup lid to put on your paper cup and leave the place. The man’s hand slipped between you and the lid, pushing it to the side as he reached for the cinnamon sprinkle; his gesture seemingly so innocent.
As he withdrew his hand, glass jar of cinnamon in his hand, your gaze dropped onto a leather casing left on the counter right next to your coffee.
A police badge. In the name Quentin Duvall.
Was it a test? Since all signs on earth and in heaven pointed that Rogers had police and other agencies in his pocket, this could be a game to see if you’d stay loyal to your future husband.
Logically, he shouldn’t expect you to. It was only your lack of connection that you didn’t dare to seek help in the law enforcement, for if you had some friend of a friend who was an officer then you’d go to them in a heartbeat.
You were quite certain Steve knew you would and he probably didn’t care.
“He’s a pain not only in your ass,” the man said, exchanging the cinnamon for his badge. “It’s hard to build a case against him when more than half of my colleagues are on his payroll.”
“What do you want?” Your fingers squeezed the paper cup, coffee sloshing to the brim.
You didn’t lift your head to look at him, figuring it was best to keep the impression of a casual conversation over coffee station. If you were being watched, perhaps it wouldn’t be too suspicious.
“There’s an ATF agent working to build a case against Rogers’ mob. He’d like to meet you and propose a way to provide you protection for whatever you can bring to the table.”
“Why won’t he contact me directly?” Deliberately, you picked a jar of chocolate sprinkles and added them to your cooling coffee.
“Since he’s one of the very rare daring to hunt Rogers, he’s on the fucker’s radar. If he appeared anywhere near, Rogers would know of it and it could end badly for you.” There was a hint of concern in Duvall’s voice, but not enough to be a poor actor’s play.
Then again, maybe it was a perfect play. Luring you with a safeline, but making it risky so you wouldn’t see it as a trap right away.
“If you want to help-” he picked a spatula and stirred his own coffee- “if you want to get out of Rogers’ grip, come here the day after tomorrow at the same time. I’ll give you the meeting details then.”
He took his cup and left, merging with the group of friends that were exiting at the same time. You waited a few moments, carefully putting the lid on your cup and lifting it to your mouth for a long, thoughtful sip.
Your walk back to the center was sluggish, your gaze switching from staring blankly ahead to staring at the pavement beneath your feet.
If it was a test and you failed it, what sort of consequences would Steve draw out? If, by some miracle, a just officer could save you from the dragon guarded tower, shouldn’t you risk it?
As you sat in your office, too preoccupied with the new dilemma, your irritation grew. That someone appeared and rocked the boat on an already stormy sea.
Though a flicker of hope tempted you to take the risk and meet the agent, you were annoyed that it came as another drastic change in your life in such a short time. Honestly, a part of you simply wanted to just go steady with one route, even if it was the one with you on Rogers’ leash.
At least it would be settled. If you kept fighting, not only would it piss off Rogers, but it meant exhaustion for you. Perhaps a never ending one.
Because was there really a chance for protection from Steve, if his ties reached to the Capitol and beyond?
Natalie found you deep in thought and blankly staring at the window of your office. She did a quick scan of the untouched documents which you should be working on, then flicked her gaze to you.
Whatever she saw in your face, it made her close the door to your office and lock it.
She moved a free chair to sit next to you on your side of the desk and in a hushed tone asked what was going on.
You looked at her for a long, silent moment. It would be reckless to tangle another innocent soul into the sticky, dark web in which you were trapped. You didn’t want to put her in danger. But you needed someone to know, someone who was a part of it from the beginning even if it was as a bystander.
Natalie and Felix were the ones who told you the truth of who Steve is in the first place, so at least you didn’t have to reveal to her something she wouldn’t already know about the man.
With a sigh, you opened your mouth and told her everything.
As you studied Natalie’s face afterwards, you realized she might have been the best choice to share the burden. There was no fear on her face, no panic settling in. She frowned, processing it all and you almost could sense the cogs in her head turning as she conjured up a plan.
“That officer, what was his name again?” She asked, sliding her phone out of her pocket and typing rapidly.
“Duvall. Quentin Duvall.” You told her. “Why?”
“I fucked a guy who has ways to check people’s background,” Natalie replied without an ounce of shame or awkwardness. “A computer geek. I’ll ask him to check if officer Duvall is who he claims to be.”
“Oh!” That way at least you’d know if it wasn’t a scheme. “That’s helpful. Thank you.”
Natalie didn’t acknowledge your gratitude, as if it wasn’t even needed. Determined and focused on the task, she exchanged text messages with whomever was so into her he still agreed to do for her something that was probably illegal.
Since you were engaged to a mob boss, you weren’t going to judge.
Few hours later, just as you were finishing for the day, Natalie returned to your office with ready information.
“It’s your choice,” she said, taking her jacket off.
Thin bracelets on her wrist jingled faintly, a peek of a small spider tattoo on her forearm quickly disappeared beneath the folded jacket which she draped over her arm.
“But I think you should meet him. A meeting doesn’t yet mean you’re agreeing to anything.” She walked next to you as both went toward the exit. “If they don’t offer you actual solid protection, you simply give them nothing.”
“What if Rogers finds out about the meeting and it angers him? Even if I don’t say anything yet.” Somehow, as you thought of the consequences to your decision, it was Steve’s face that kept popping in your head.
His icy eyes trained on you; his fingers stroking you before clenching around your throat.
Natalie paused, glancing at you with a scowl. She didn’t seem annoyed with your question, but rather with the fact she had no certain answer for it. Natalie liked knowing everything.
“That I don't know.” She admitted, with a small pout. “In different circumstances I’d go for some predictable wrath, but honestly? He declared your engagement. That’s definitely completely unpredictable. So who knows what he’d do.”
It was a very small, very naive consolation, but you reminded yourself that if he wanted you dead, Rogers would have made that happen already.
If you were his employee who betrayed him, then severe torture awaited, if not aforementioned death.
What awaited an unruly fiancee?
You hoped to never find out. Being extra careful in your act of casual trip to the coffee shop on the pointed day, you already considered potential excuses for another meeting, details of which Duvall was supposed to give you.
It better not be on some late evening in some shady place, because even though you still didn’t catch anyone following you it didn’t mean Rogers didn’t have an eye on you.
To your surprise, and actual relief, Duval didn’t talk to you this time, just slipped you a piece of paper as he tossed out a napkin into a bin right next to which you were standing at the coffee shop. It contained the address of a small apothecary in a nearby neighborhood and an afternoon hour.
That was very clever. A visit to such a place wasn’t anything unusual, even if most people bought their medicine at the big drugstores. And since it would still be daylight, it seemed even more harmless.
Natalie agreed with you on that, telling you also about a bakery nearby into which you could also step in to keep the appearance of running errands.
Both of you probably watched too many crime shows, but it came in handy.
The lights in the apothecary were on when you went in, but it occurred to you that it was completely empty only when the door closed behind you.
There were shelves stacked with medicines, some key-locked cases and an antique looking chest of drawers, which you suspected was more for decoration than to keep chemicals inside.
There was no one behind the counter, however. Only the backdoor, leading to an additional room, was open.
“Hello?” You called out, not moving from your spot near the door, in case you needed to run.
There was some shuffling and then Duvall appeared in the backdoor. He smiled in relief, clearly fearing you would not come. He beckoned you over and you followed him through the short, narrow corridor into another room.
Spacious, but minimalist (to not say empty) compared to the front. There were two industrial tables and three chairs, some metal cabinets and neatly grouped apparatus.
The man who leaned against one of the tables didn’t look like a chemist.
Though you suspected a man like him may know a thing or ten about chemicals that blew up, judging by his close to military look. Well, since you never met an ATF agent in person, perhaps it was how they dressed.
“Claude Batroc.” He introduced himself, with a smile that perhaps would be charming if not for a hint of dishonesty to it.
There was something about that man that instantly made you feel uneasy.
Steve raised the hair on the back of your neck as well, but his type of danger was a sizzling black fog that engulfed you in its warm embrace and zapped your body with scary tingles. Batroc was the sound of screeching tires a second before a truck pummels into you.
Your instinct was telling you it’s best to squirm your way out of this, even though you haven’t yet heard the deal they offered.
“Officer Duvall claims you’re able to help me,” you swallowed past your nervousness and looked at him expectantly.
Like Natalie told you, you planned on making sure their promise was solid, before you jumped off any cliff.
“I am.” He nodded, tilting his head to the side. “But that depends on what you can give me?”
You frowned. You assumed they knew how new and short your acquaintance with Rogers was; that you weren’t one of his inner circle people, who could provide a lot of intel.
Foolishly maybe, but you thought being threatened and knowing of Felix’s demise was enough for them to consider you an important witness. There wasn’t anything else of heavy value that you could bring to the table.
“Does he really have the stones?” came Batroc’s direct question.
Simple, but completely confusing for you.
Out of all the things you could’ve expected them to ask you, that never came to mind.
“I don’t know anything about any stones,” you said slowly. Your frown deepened as your brain tried to work out, if maybe there were some jewels involved in the whole mess.
Was Howard hiding a diamond mine under the health center, or something?
“There’s a rumor that Rogers is in possession of the Infinity Stones.” Duvall mentioned and you glanced his way over your shoulder. When he saw your face, he sighed in disappointment. It was clear you were unaware of what they were talking about.
“They belonged to Thanos. A Greek mogul, who’d probably surpass Zeus himself if mythological riches and armies were comparable to the real ones. He was in possession of the six, most valued gems in the world. They are called the Infinity Stones.”
“Few years ago Thanos was found dead.” Batroc took over the story. “Along with most of his men. A job so clean, nothing pointed to a rampage. And nothing but the gems disappeared from his fortress. No organization ever boasted it to be their job. In time, Rogers’ name has been whispered as the one to do it, but he never confirmed. Never put them up for auction.”
You shook your head again. The only gems that came to your mind as you thought of Steve Rogers were the few that glinted in the dark, thick silver of his rings.
You doubted anyone would put the most valuable jewels in simple rings, which he wore daily on full display for everyone to see.
Then again, wouldn’t that be a perfect power move? A shiny middle finger and a warning to anyone who dared to think they could cross Rogers.
“A different angle then.” Batroc changed the topic. Quite eagerly, too, as if the one he was moving onto was to him far more important than a few shiny rocks.
“Why is he circling around the health center?” Something dark, greedy, flashed in his eyes. “He’s already got his people sitting all over it. Made an effort to reach you directly, not just work under your nose.”
When Batroc straightened and made a slow step forward, you stepped back. Duvall was standing in the doorway, blocking your escape route. You didn’t think you’d need one, but now your instincts screamed at you that there was something bad behind their intentions.
“Rogers isn’t the kind of man to tell his secrets left and right.” You tried to stand your ground, despite your pulse quickening in fear.
You weren’t a type of person to limitlessly trust the law enforcement, but since they were supposed to be determined to build a case against Rogers they should treat you (as the potential help in successful operation) with less creepiness.
At the moment, Batroc’s stance and the way his eyes danced over your form were displaying a poor skill at charm and comfort.
“Maybe you aren’t privy to his secrets.” Batroc shrugged, then bared his teeth in a sinister grin. “Or maybe you’re the one who actually holds the key to the project Rogers has been building, huh?”
“Quentin said you keep yourself guarded, which is smart if you’re going toe to toe with the likes of us. But there’s not a can that can’t be opened…”
Perhaps Batroc was an agent and maybe he was building a case against Rogers. His methods, however, were those of another gutter kingpin. He could be working for one, doing his official job and an extra one on the side. Or he could be one himself.
You should’ve predicted that your hope for help would be false.
You considered Rogers playing you, testing your loyalty, meanwhile another mobster scum was attempting to use you to screw with Steve.
“We’re gonna play some interrogation game. With bonuses.” At Batroc’s words, you made another hasty step backwards, your back hitting the metal cabinets.
A sudden wheezing sound and a loud thump of a falling body averted Batroc’s attention from you.
Duvall fell down lifelessly, face first onto the floor. At least a second passed before you noticed a pool of red spilling around his head like a horrific halo.
Then something heavy flew across the space, knocking Batroc’s gun from his hand as he reached for it.
Still glued to the cabinets, shock freezing you in place, you watched as Steve Rogers strode inside in all of his dark glory. Shoulders so wide he barely fit in the entrance, muscles straining under the fabric of his clothes.
He and Batroc clashed in the middle of the room - forearm blocking a punch, then a knee up to block a kick.
Both of them were fast and strong, their fight a darker, less choreographed movie combat. For every of Batroc’s hits, Steve delivered two. Despite his bulk, Steve was exceptionally graceful in his technique. His opponent stumbled for a second, shaking his head to get rid of dizziness after one of Steve’s hooks. Meanwhile Rogers didn’t even wince when Batroc managed to split his lip open.
It wasn’t a fight that would continue honorably, until one yielded and pledged fealty.
After disarming Batrock when he pulled out a knife, Steve kicked him a few steps away then drew out his gun and shot him three times. Twice in the chest, once in the head.
You flinched with each gunfire sound, but remained glued to the spot.
Your gaze was on Rogers, you didn’t pay much attention to other men stepping inside. Steve spoke to them, but all the voices blurred into a dull sound as your hammering heartbeat threatened to pound away each vessel in your body.
Only your sight remained focused. Your mind picked Rogers as the only solid point to anchor itself to.
Perhaps simply because he saved you. Once again. Even if it was to ensnare you himself.
You pushed against the cabinets, trying to bury yourself into them when Steve dismissed his people with some short orders and started towards you, but they didn’t budge an inch.
You weren’t attempting to escape him. You wanted to escape your growing need to wrap your arms around him and cling to the beast that spared your life as the only source of comfort at the moment.
Yet, you knew the sickness that bubbled in your stomach wasn’t because you felt a twisted sense of safety now that Rogers was here, but because you witnessed people being killed, blood splattering; hell, you nearly were mauled. Again.
The anxiety was skyrocketing. Or it would be, if not for the freezing shock still gripping you so tightly you felt like trapped in a glass box. It was an inner torment, procured by your own neurotransmitters and chemicals, that kept you on the edge of a malfunctioning fight or flight mechanism.
Steve’s broad form caging you in, shutting away the bloodied world outside of his arms, was the first thing that pulled your focus back to reality of now and here.
The feeling of a hot, metal muzzle touching the underside of your jaw snapped you out of the traumatic trance.
He pointed his gun at you. The one with which he shot Batroc.
A spike of adrenaline roused your body into full alertness. However, instead of logical terror and tearing up at the oncoming death, your brain paid attention to how delicate that pressure of a gun was.
How the warmth of it felt against your clammy skin; how refreshing was the metallic scent of it and how quickly it disappeared under the familiar now undertones of Rogers’ cologne.
That gun held so much power.
It ruthlessly disposed of a direct threat to you. An extension to the one who was behind saving you over and over (even if it was only, so he could be the one to torment you). Steve was living up to being your knight. Not in shining armor; not even one with good intentions. No, he was a black knight whose curse trapped you in a twisted realm.
“Did he lay a hand on you?” pressing the muzzle to your chin, Steve moved your face left and right as his eyes scanned your state.
Swallowing hard, you shook your head. You were unable to form a single word, your throat constricted with all the sobs which you couldn’t force out of yourself.
“Good.” Steve stated simply, without much genuine relief.
“Your naughty stunt served me well.” He mused as he gently dragged the barrel of his gun across your cheek and down your neck; like he was caressing you with fingers, not a deadly weapon.
“I wanted to get rid of Batroc for a while now, but he buried himself so deep it was hard to find him. I should’ve known he’d come up for something when he saw everyone else wanted it.”
You weren’t paying enough attention to Steve’s words to decipher their full meaning, your senses were more interested in attuning to the trace of his gun on your skin.
Holding your gaze captive with his icy blue eyes (so clear and unmarred with anger, despite what just happened), Steve kept moving the muzzle of his gun from one of your collar bones to the other. Slowly.
He had to read something in your body you weren’t yet aware of - a spark of curiosity ignited in his irises.
You realized what it was a few seconds later as you felt your nipples stiffen.
No!, a voice in your head whispered in utter disbelief. That current at the touch of Rogers’ gun was arousal. Underlaid with fear, but the kind that spiced the arousal higher, not switched it off.
It had to be the adrenaline still rushing, you thought. Your mind locked in an acute stress reaction, so that your body got confused; it didn’t know how to react, or which hormones to produce.
That had to be the reason, the only explanation. Because you have never experienced anything like this.
Rogers being despicable aside, you simply never entertained any kinky fantasies that included a gun, or any other weapon, or being overpowered so completely. That was never something you considered you might like.
But as much as you were afraid of Steve in general, in this very moment you somehow knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Not in a bad way.
And the gun pressed to your body was a substantial proof of his power. One that could touch you physically; do things to you…
“My, my, Princess,” Steve leaned closer; whether to feel you shiver, or to shield the view of you from any prying eyes. “You’re just full of surprises.”
He ran the gun down your body - between your breasts and down your quivering belly. When the still warm muzzle nudged the hem of your flowy skirt up, the haze of shock snapped.
“I-” you started, but your voice was weak and breathless, turning into a gasp as Steve drew the gun higher up your thigh.
“I should go.” You squeaked out, but somehow couldn’t tear your eyes away from Steve’s.
The only muscles you moved were those of your legs, which parted slightly as he slipped the gun over your clothed core.
His free hand shot up to your neck; ringed fingers curling around your throat in a loose reminder of Steve’s dominance. Like the first time he’s done it, your breath hitched in your lungs, your pupils widened and your knees weakened.
Then the solid barrel rubbed against your covered folds and your lips parted on a needy whimper.
While it shocked you, it absolutely delighted Steve.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Princess.” He cooed, dragging the gun back and forth over your pussy. “It’s okay to need to take the edge off. After the afternoon you’ve just had.”
“That’s not how-” a part of your brain tried to fight the building arousal.
You closed your eyes, instantly opening them again at Steve’s warning hiss. In his eyes danced a glint of triumph - bright and cold like a blade pulled straight from the forgery.
“Not like this.” You muttered, embarrassed with how eager your body was to experience the little thrill of being caressed with something that could so easily hurt you.
Sex as a way of destressing wasn’t a foreign concept. Hell, an orgasm or two often helped you relieve some tension after dealing with daily obstacles and minor inconveniences. You’d even agree about needing one to burst you out of the bubble of shock you fell into today.
But you could do that on your own, not by the hand of the handsome monster who forced himself into your life. And with your own toys - the normal, safe ones.
It was both a relief and a shameful disappointment when Steve withdrew the gun.
“Slide your hand into your panties, Princess,” he brushed the side of the gun against your arm, nudging your wrist.
Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t move. Your heart was still going like crazy, the beat of it pulsing in your clit.
“Come on,” Steve traced his gun up your arm, then tapped your cheek with it, “be a good girl and put your hand in your panties.”
You knew it wasn’t a request, but a command. No matter if Steve’s voice melted into a soft, thick and sweet like chocolate tone. Slowly, you reached your hand beneath your skirt and under the waistband of your cotton and lace panties.
“That’s it.” Steve brushed his lips over your temple, whispering dirty encouragement. “Now slide your fingers over your pussy. All the way.”
You did as he asked; trembling fingers dipping between your soft folds.
“Now show them to me.” He pulled back slightly.
You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole to cut your shame short, as you lifted your hand up for Steve to see.
Your fingers were sticky with your wetness, a pearly string of slick stretching between them.
“Seems to me that’s exactly how you need it, Princess.” Steve smirked; icy blue of his irises heating into white flame.
A retort was forming on your tongue, but died a second later. When Steve’s mouth closed around your digits and he sucked them clean.
His tongue lavished the crease between your fingers, teasing your rotten mind with a reflection of where else on your body he could use that tongue. Suction of his mouth wasn’t gentle, strumming down your nerves with vibration from his pleased hum. He pulled off, with a lewd swipe of his tongue.
For a millisecond, your gazes locked in quiet suspension.
A blink of an eye and then the gun was back beneath your skirt, while Steve’s lips were capturing yours in a filthy demand. He pushed the barrel past the fabric of your panties this time, hard metal grazing your delicate parts. His dark chuckle in response to your moan reverberated on your lips.
The fingers curled around your neck tightened slightly, his thumb pressing over your carotid, but not enough to cut off your air. Not yet, at least.
Stars danced in the corners of your vision, heightened pleasure mixed with delicious trepidation filling your body with bubbles of ecstasy unknown to you until now.
Steve angled his gun so that it spread your folds, rubbing your clit and teasing your entrance with each slide. Your hips rocked back eagerly. When he pushed a little deeper, pressing the muzzle into your opening, you almost seized.
One of your hands flew to Steve’s forearm, holding onto the wrist of his hand which was choking you. The other fisted his shirt near the collar. You let out a startled cry that turned from appalled to needy.
“Give it up, Princess,” Steve teased your bottom lip with his tongue, all the while nudging the muzzle into your cunt.
Muscles in your legs tensed, your eyes shimmered with tears that weren’t of sadness or pain. You were ashamed of your reaction to the filthy debauchery, but you wanted, needed it so badly.
“I’m gonna have you cum for me anyway, so just let go.”
That demand was sharper. Steve’s fingers on your throat tightened, cutting off the flow of air. At the same time, he pushed the gun deeper. Merely an inch or two slipped inside, but it was enough to feel your pussy stretch around it.
Your climax was an outburst with sharp edges, each tremor feeling like an electric current. Your cries sounded choked, though Steve released his hold on your neck enough for the air to flow easily into your lungs.
The gun wasn’t inside you anymore, but he kept moving it harshly against your clit, prolonging your orgasm to a point of painful throb that threatened to build into another humiliation if he continued longer.
If he slid the gun back, or his cock into your quivering cunt, you’d probably lose your conscience. While cumming all over him again.
Finally, Steve eased the pressure. He occupied your lips with sensual kisses, slow and lingering, and tongue dipping indecently into your mouth. The gun withdrew from your panties, the fabric clinging to your drenched pussy in an embarrassingly uncomfortable way.
Your arms fell to your sides when Steve let go of your neck and straightened. He wiped his gun, covered with your slick, in your skirt, then secured it back in the holster at his side.
“There now. Isn’t it better?” You weren’t certain if he was mocking you, or if it was a pure cocky smugness.
You were gaping at him, your breath still ragged. Your legs were shaking and your heart was hammering, but there was warmth and life and a vivid feeling of anger resurfacing. No longer the cold stupor of shock and fear.
No, Steve beckoned your brain back to reality. After short circuiting it.
“Better?” You hissed, clenching your hands into fists. “You pointed a gun at me!”
“And you creamed all over it, Princess.” Steve’s knowing smirk added to your shame.
“You shot someone!” You derailed, unable (and unwanting) to unpack the mess of your body’s reaction to being fucked with a gun.
“Just straight up shot them. In broad daylight!” It was now reaching your mind that all the terrors and dirty deeds, which have happened in the past half an hour, didn’t take place in the deep darkness of the night. It was a sunny afternoon, with people walking the streets just outside the front door of an ordinary apothecary.
“They would’ve hurt you,” came Steve’s remorseless reply.
Simple and direct, spoken in a warning growl.
“Nobody hurts what’s mine.”
There was nothing romantic about it, even if your post-orgasmic heart flowed with bonding oxytocin.
It was a dark claim, making you into Steve’s possession. His protection of you came only from the need to have his pride untouched - if anyone managed to steal or hurt his bride, it weakened Steve’s ruthless reputation.
“Now let’s get you out of here, so my cleaning team can swipe in.” Steve motioned at you to follow him as he moved toward the exit.
Your feet were frozen to the spot. There was a dead body of a man between you and the door; the pool of blood inches away from your toes. You definitely wanted to get out of there, but you couldn’t simply make yourself jump over someone’s corpse.
Steve’s impatient sigh was motivating - you did not want to get on his nerves too much. But your body wasn’t listening to any of your commands. As it didn’t listen to you when you tried to fight off the arousal earlier.
Suddenly, you were picked up.
Steve hoisted you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder. He carried you over Duvall’s dead body and through the narrow corridor, ignoring your outraged squeak.
“All that blood and death, you really need to focus on lighter things from now on.” He said conversationally, tone light as if aforementioned gore was just a chore from which one needed to take a break.
“For a while, at least-” Steve continued, as he carried you out the front- “Wedding planning should help with that.”
“No! I don’t want it!” You protested, kicking your legs.
With what just happened, you couldn’t imagine forcing yourself to organize a fucking wedding. One you didn’t want in the first place. You couldn’t imagine going back to your routine, daily life at all.
You just weren’t sure if it was the deaths you witnessed that changed your life forever, or the wrong kind of desire that Steve brought out of you.
“Oh, I’m sure you don’t. But you will.” He put you down on your feet once you were outside.
Steve cupped your chin, crushing it painfully between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted your face up.
“We both know you will be a good girl for me, Princess.”
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Smoke, Fire and Ash
Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.
Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)
Masterlist
Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.
Note: Did I buy a silver white lace front wig so I can parade around my house like a Targaryen? Yes. Was it the best purchase I've ever made? Also yes. Have absolutely loved the theories and messages and memes you have all sent through, still cackling at the divorce rock! Enjoy <3
Chapter 62: A good day
Returning to your shared chambers, you found Aemond had returned at long last. And not a single greeting or word was spent on you. He was leant over the table as he wrote quietly upon some parchment. A large tome lay open in front of him, and he did not turn his head to greet you as you entered, too enraptured by his quill.
You watched his long, slender fingers dragging the quill across the page, ink drawing neatly beneath it. You shut the door behind you softly and moved slowly across the room, craning your head to see what he was writing.
“Enjoying yourself?” Aemond drawled, not taking his eye away from the page.
You had no care to start an argument, nor the fire to snip back at him.
Today had been a good day.
You straightened your back as you moved away from your creeping and towards the window, perching upon the ledge to look out at the setting sun, watching the sky turn a soft purple.
A purple that reminded you of Helaena’s eyes.
She seemed to be everywhere with you today.
“I saw a beetle today.” You thoughtlessly spoke, not bothering to see if Aemond was listening.
He was.
He had lifted his head from the parchment and brought his gaze to you.
“It was the brightest green you would ever see, and beneath its wings, it had these pearly ones that shimmered.” You reminisced, smiling.
“Helaena had one, exactly the same, land on her during the union celebrations. And today, one came to land with me.” Your voice got quieter the more you spoke.
This was the most you had said in some time.
The most you had said that wasn’t a quip or a snarl, a sneer or demand. Instead it was simply an observation. The most simple of observations at that. A beetle, that was all it was, a small green beetle, and yet that tiny little bug would have never known the change it had brought to you.
“Helaena would have liked it.” Aemond’s voice carried across the chambers to you gently.
You smiled as you looked out at the water.
“She would have.”
Unbeknownst to you, Aemond watched as you smiled out at the water and could not help but feel a twinge in his chest as he thought of his sister. She was too pure for a world filled with such cruelty, and so it had become too much for her to bear. He was gladdened, in some ways, that she would not be there to witness the horrors of today. To have witnessed his cruelty fester inside of him. To bear the brunt of Aegon’s rising drunkenness, and their mothers disregard.
At least Helaena could no longer feel pain and was now at peace.
“The sky looks like her eyes.” You whispered, and Aemond stood, pushing the chair back slowly as he placed his quill in its holder.
You listened, without fear, as he walked towards you, standing at your side as he looked out at the ocean. The sky was a light purple, the colour of fresh lavender or blooming wisteria in the spring. The sun lowered behind the horizon, and the soft purple began to deepen.
“It does.” Aemond commented, as he looked out at the water beside you.
It was strange to have Aemond agree.
The fire between the both of you had calmed, and the embers had settled, and instead you were able to find peace in the space. Neither of you bickered, nor argued, snipped, nor snapped as you watched the sun set, and the sky darken into a deep blue.
Aemond moved himself away from the window as the last of the evenings light had left, and nightfall had settled over the realm. You watched as he moved to tidy the table, collecting the parchment and quill to place it on a side table amongst the decanter of wine.
You walked across the room as he moved back to collect the ink pot to place it with the others. Your eyes looked down at the tome that lay open on the table, skimming over the first line of the page that was open.
‘Weirwoods that had stood for two hundred generations were cut down to provide rafters and beams in the construction of Harrenhal.’
Weirwoods were the tree that you sat beneath. The Godswood was what you had grown to call it, though you knew the small courtyard where it sat was the true Godswood. A place for those who followed the Old Gods to pray.
But why were all those trees cut down?
Would that not bring about bad luck?
You knew that Harrenhal was said to be haunted or cursed, and as you read the page and thought of all those sacred trees being cut and placed inside of the old castle, it came as no surprise that perhaps the castle of Harrenhal truly was cursed.
‘King Harren soon came to know that thick walls and high towers are small use against dragons, for dragons fly. Aegon the First flew down on the mighty Balerion and-‘
Aemond pulled the tome towards him and away from you as he closed it to place it on the side table with the others. He poured himself a goblet of wine, and then one for you, walking back over to hand it to you. You took the wine and sipped, looking at him as you fell into a comfortable quiet before the maids came to deliver your supper.
You both ate together, not speaking, yet not arguing, with no tension between the two of you. It seemed that his days away had cooled his anger and spite, and your days alone had helped to cool yours. It was a civil meal, and you felt little urge to destroy the peace of the day.
However, the peace between the both of you did little for the pain that ebbed within. A cramp crawled through your lower stomach, causing you to tense in pain and wriggle in your chair. You hid a grunt under the guise of clearing your throat, but it sounded more like a wince. Aemond’s eye lifted away from his plate and landed on your face as you grimaced, your cramps building as you continued to sit.
“Whats wrong?” He asked, the tiniest hint of concern in his voice.
You met his eye across the table and shook your head almost in embarrassment. You looked back down at your plate as you answered him.
“I have my… blood.”
Aemond hummed, and you felt a blush crawl across your cheeks.
“Is there anything that you need for your…” He trailed off.
“No, I am quite alright. I was just... not expecting it, is all.”
I was not expecting to be spared from a child.
I was not expecting to be free for another day.
I was not expecting to feel elation at the sight of my own blood.
Aemond's eye continued to watch you in scrutiny.
“Sometimes... Peppermint tea can help.” You added.
Perhaps he could have some sent to the chambers.
“Do you need milk of the poppy?”
You wanted to laugh, but held it in to not offend him.
“No, I am fine... Thank you.”
Aemond nodded and resumed his eating, and you continued with yours, trying to hold still in your chair as the pain intensified. How long had it been since you had last bled?
Aemond’s eye was caught by your movement, and suddenly stood from his chair, moving across the room to speak to the knight at the door. When he returned to the table and sat back down, he watched you closely.
“I have sent for some tea.”
You did not expect that.
Why had he sent for the tea?
Your lips parted in shock and you stumbled over your thoughts on what to say, instead settling on a small thank you, before resuming back to your meal. By the time you had finished eating, the maids had arrived to your chambers, tea in hand and helped to ready you for bed. They helped to undress you, and brushed your hair from your braids as you sat, and sipped on your peppermint tea.
The tea sat warmly in your stomach, spreading comfort throughout your body, and soon you found that your cramps had grown duller. It gave you a comforting feeling too, it reminded you of your time with your mother back on Dragonstone.
A small, yet beautiful comfort.
By the time the maids had finished with the room, removing your plates and tidying the space, you had finished your tea and they had taken the empty cup and pot with them. You thanked them softly as they left, and they had bowed their heads to you.
You missed Saria and Aella.
Aemond already lay in bed, tucked beneath the sheets before you joined him. You crawled into the space beside him, and curled up on your side facing the wall. It was strange to have him back, it almost felt normal. But you still had this nagging anger and spite, nipping at the back of your head, which you pushed back down into the murky depths within you.
You had a good day today, and you weren't going to taint it.
You even felt a little bit more like yourself.
Was this progress?
Aemond blew out the candles around you and a soft darkness fell across the room. You felt him shift in the bed behind you as he moved. You let your eyes close and felt yourself slowly relax as the both of you stilled in the bed.
Aemond shifted again, his body coming closer to yours as heat radiated off of his chest and onto your back. He was always so warm. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt him touch a shy hand to your shoulder before slowly trailing it down your arm, goosebumps rising in its wake, until his hand settled on the flesh of your hip.
His long fingers rubbed the chemise over your skin as he softly caressed you, each passing moment making his movements bolder.
Do not react.
He only becomes crueller when you react.
Soft lips pressed themselves to the skin of your shoulder, Aemond's fingers dancing along the curve of your hip. A familiar warmth spread through your body as his hand slowly crawled across your front, fingers pulling the length of the chemise up.
You grasped his wrist gently to stop him, your voice cracking as you spoke.
“I have my blood, Aemond.” You whispered, hoping it would prevent his ministrations.
His lips pressed against your shoulder again as he hummed into your skin, his hand breaking free of your grip as they continued their task of revealing your core to him.
“Blood would not deter me.” He hummed.
And it didn’t.
“Please, stop.” You begged, hoping your voice would convince him, but it hadn’t.
He pushed against your grip on his wrist, and you wriggled in his hold trying to move away from him.
"Tepagon isse.” Give in, Aemond growled.
Your heart jumped in your chest, and your grip on his wrist faltered.
Let him have his way.
Let him do as he wished.
Do not let him ruin your good day.
Endure it.
Endure it.
Aemond’s hand moved back towards the chemise, breaking free of your grip to grasp the thin material and pull it up your thighs. He pulled it over the soft curve of your hip, as his fingers moved down between your thighs. Aemond pressed another kiss to your shoulder, and you had to force yourself to breathe.
Endure it.
This was your fate.
There was no running from this.
His long fingers came to skirt around the flesh of your thighs, running gently up and down them as he brushed your skin reverently. You squirmed beneath him as he continued to tease you.
Why fight it?
It would only make it worse.
You had to endure.
Aemond’s fingers came to gently rub through the tuft of hair on your mound, tickling the skin before he moved a single finger to glide between your folds. You were already wet from your blood, and you cringed at the thought of the mess it would make. He rubbed between your folds up and down, your blood making you far more sensitive than you usually would be. You breathed jaggedly as he pressed against your bundle of nerves, swirling his finger as he mouthed against your shoulder, shiver rolling up your spine.
It was so tender.
So full of love.
And it made your stomach do flips.
Was this what it could have been?
What should have been?
Aemond continued to swirl his finger around your bud, drawing soft pants from your lips as your hips bucked backwards into his lap. With a large hand, Aemond grasped your shoulder and rolled you so that your back was flat against the mattress. He leant over you, his hair falling around your face as he watched you writhe beneath him, his finger not slowing. He leant forward and placed a kiss to the corner of your lips, watching as you sighed when his finger pushed through your folds and into your heat. It was so sensitive, the pleasure was overwhelming.
Endure it.
There was no painful intrusion, no stinging or tearing, only the pleasurable stretch that it gave as he pushed into your welcoming folds, coming to brush against the soft spongey patch within. He found it quickly, and easily, as though he had memorised where it was, and soon began to rub against it. Your chest rose off of the bed as you whined, as Aemond moved to press his lips against yours finally.
Endure.
You let him kiss you, and you kissed him back, chasing his lips. Today was a good day. You were not going to let him ruin it. You pushed down your disgust and shame, and let your body guide you through it.
Endure.
He sped up his finger within, moving to slide in a second finger, guided by both your slick and your blood. He began to draw his hand in and out of you, palm brushing against your bud as you quietly moaned into his mouth. The coppery smell of your blood lingered in the air, and any lingering pain from your cramps disappeared to be replaced by the pleasure he brought you.
Aemond was being tender.
Kind.
Sweet, even.
It was about your pleasure and not his.
His attention was solely on you.
You could pretend this was normal. You could pretend that this was real love. You could pretend that nothing had happened. And you would. You would pretend, and let him have his way with you, and you would bask in the glow of pleasure he brought you, and the peace your submission gave.
Endure and enjoy.
Aemond's lips were so soft against yours, his tongue swiping to gain entrance into your mouth, softly licking into you as your hands gripped the sheets below, desperate to ground yourself from the steadily rising pleasure.
The coil within wound itself tighter, and tighter, as his fingers moved through your folds, his lips parting from yours so he could turn his eye to watch his hand disappearing into your heat.
A long groan fell from his parted lips as he watched your slick folds pulling him in, mouth opening as he sighed a heavy breath. You dared to let yourself look down, watching as his fingers plunged into your heat, coated in your blood.
You had thought that the sight would have made you ill, that the image of your blood upon him in your most intimate area again would bring back memories of your wedding, but it didn’t. Instead a wave of arousal burnt though you, and you threw your head back, hips chasing after his hand as he rapidly brought you to your peak.
“So good. You’re doing so good for me.” Aemond purred, watching your face scrunch up as you tried to hold in your noises, “Let go for me, let me see you.” His fingers pulled out and moved up to your bud, rubbing fast circles around it, drawing almost painful pleasure from you.
“Oh…fuck.” You gasped, back arching off of the bed as the coil within you snapped.
Blinding white hot pleasure coursed through your veins as he brought you to your peak.
Your core fluttered as you came, Aemond’s fingers swiftly dipping back into your heat as he prolonged your release, thrusting his fingers in and out of you with speed, the chambers filled with the lewd sounds of your wetness.
"Sȳz zaldrītsos.” Good, He murmured coming to press his lips against you, his fingers overstimulating you as you writhed beneath him, desperate to get away.
“Arlī.” Again, Aemond purred, thrusting his fingers into you faster.
Your eyes shot open, finding Aemond looking down at you, pupil blown wide as he breathed heavily, fingers fucking into your heat. Your hand came to grip his wrist, trying to slow him or have him remove them as you felt your second release building quicker than the first, and painfully.
“Kostilus, Aemond. Kostan daor.” Please Aemond, I can’t, You whined softly, pleading him with your eyes, hips trying to pull away from him.
“Kesā.”
You will.
His fingers pulled out to rub against your pearl, and the coil snapped again. Your release was pulled out of you so quickly you cried out, eyes scrunching shut as he ripped each and every wave of pleasure from you. Your hips jerked and twitched beneath him, until finally his hand slowed, fingers moving to rub through your folds as you came down, a small tear leaking from the corner of your eye and down to the pillow.
Your mind was hazy, and your body felt heavy, eyes staying shut as you slumped below him against the bed. He had pulled the life from you, body twitching with after pulses.
Aemond let out a breathy chuckle beside you, pulling his hand free of the mess between your thighs. His lips came to press the side of your face where the tear had escaped, capturing it with a gentle kiss.
The bed moved and the weight of his arm and hand left your body. The Prince pulled his slickened fingers up to his lips, licking your release and blood from the digits as he hummed. You could hear the sound of his tongue lapping at the wetness from above, and you kept your eyes shut.
Your core strummed from overstimulation. You felt like you were floating and sinking all at once. It was the most powerful release you had ever had.
Would it always feel this good?
“Gevie.” Beautiful, He whispered, eye still on your tired form.
Aemond's hand came to brush the hair away from your face, fingers tickling the skin. You huffed beneath him.
“Īlē vēttan syt nyke.” You were made for me.
Your eyes were too tired to open, and Aemond was content to stay looking down at you. He made no move to lay atop of you, nor did he move to touch you again. Instead, your husband let his fingers come to trail around your thighs softly, causing you to twitch from the tickling sensation.
You had done it.
You had endured it.
And you were okay.
You were safe.
But was it really enduring it if you enjoyed it?
Would he always be this gentle if you let him have you?
Sleep began to pull you down as you laid in the bed, your two releases having completely sucked any, and all energy from you. You just wished to rest. And Aemond let you. Though his fingers still trailed around your thighs, never quite returning to your centre, whilst he leant on an elbow looking down at you.
You were sure you looked a mess, covered in your own slick and blood, hair messy and tussled from writhing in the bed, and yet Aemond continued to coo praise at you, and slowly you drifted away to sleep. His voice still whispering out into the chambers as he watched you.
“Iksi lanta hen keskydoso,” We are two of the same, "Vējes ondoso se Jaes.” Fated by the Gods, His voice became further and further away as you drifted to sleep.
“Ziry ūndan ziry, zaldristos.” She saw it, little dragon.
“Lanta rōvēgrie zaldrīzes perzyssy, hēnkirī hae mēre. Spool hen kasta, spool hen zōbrie. Iā rōvēgrie ropagon naejot letagon lanta hubon. Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.”
Two great dragon flames, together as one.
Spool of green, spool of black.
A great fall to tie two threads.
Fated to burn together.
Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3
Tag List:
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