Multiple women and men alike were trying to sneak a dance with you, and more often than not, a young person around your age was speaking about their wishes to marry you. It filled Almond with even more want, desire, need.
It was a shame how he carried on.
Unbeknown to Almond, you were gay. Full on gay. And your relationship with Pickle was a cover up you two Homos had been doing since childhood. She, in all her glory, was a transgender lesbian. And since not many still accepted the LGBTQ+ in Russet, you both used one another as coverups. That's what best friends were for, right?
You eventually became tired of the dancing and excused yourself, heading out to a lonely palace balcony. You sighed with content, letting the wind push back your hair. Suddenly, arms wrapped around your chest and a head set itself on your shoulder.
You had no reason to think it was anyone but Pickle, until the hands started to move, untucking the front of your shirt, then sliding up to feel around your slightly lined abs. You shivered, turning, only to be forced to look up at your senior detective.
Face flushed, you tried to pull away, laughing awkwardly. "Sir, I think- I think you've had too much to drink-" you were pulled back by the arms, forced into his chest. He lowered his head, inhaling your scent as his finger tips grazed your nipples.
Your breathing hitched as he kept rubbing, ever so softly, up and down. The feeling created a cold sweat on your forehead, back arching in need for more satisfaction. "You like that, hm?" he purred into your ear.
"Wait- please; this is- AH!" He covered your mouth with one hand quickly, pinching your left nipple repeatedly. You whined, trying to control your whimpers and needy moans. This was so, so, wrong. But he wasn't drunk. The smell of alcohol was nowhere to be found. God, the unprofessionalism though.
You desperately needed to snap out of the taller man's lustful trance, but your body ached. It'd been so long since anyone had touched you, and he was so skilled with his hands. You whined again, resting your head on his shoulder as you arched your back. Your body was practically begging for more at this point.
Gripping onto his forearms, you finally found the strength to rip yourself away, turning around as you gripped the railing. "Partner, this is- so unprofessional! We can't-" he cut you off, shushing you. His arms gripped the railing on either side of your body, pinning you underneath him.
"Listen, Y/N. I don't care how bad this is. I need you. You've been making me ache for so long, I can barely even think straight when you're around. One night, that's all I need. God, please, one night!" He didn't wait for answer, lowering down speedily and nipping your neck.
Surprised, you let out a squeak, gripping his shoulders. One night... That was it.... that'd be fine, right? Besides, you needed this, too. This release from all the stress.
"Let's go to my place," you whispered, pulling him by the hair and away from your neck. With that, you found Pickle, excused yourself, and had your taxi take you home. The ride, however, was difficult to make.
Almond had you in his lap, and since the driver wasn't looking, he was devouring your sweet spot on your neck. You bit your gloved hand in an attempt to keep your whimpers in. He was smirking, hands rubbing your thighs soothingly. Finally, the taxi stopped, you paid as quick as possible, then fumbled for the keys to your house.
Rapsutin [Almond x Male Reader🍋]
Start from the beginning
