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dirtyvulture · 11 months

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Darkest Knight

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Mutant!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You meet a pretty woman in a bar...

AN: Came up with a new idea, let me know if you all like it. 👀

Natasha shivers when the door opens behind her, wrapping herself tighter in the thin jacket jacket that is not meant to be worn during the winter. Although she’s sitting in the corner, trying to make herself as invisible as possible, the icy wind stabs at her back and it practically takes her breath away. Her whole body aches from a lack of sleep and food, although so far the bartender had only been generous enough to give her a single glass of water.

It’s almost 9:00pm, evident by the pitch-black gloom outside the windows stained with dirt and snow. Natasha doesn’t know what time the restaurant closes, but she has no way of leaving it safely, having used the last of her energy to stumble here through the surrounding woods on foot. The next city over was probably at least 25 miles away. She closes her eyes, overwhelmed and despondent, reaching for her water glass with trembling fingers.

A lot of luck had gotten her this far, more so than her own skills, but she feared tonight would be when it finally ran out.

Someone drops noisily onto a barstool three seats away from her. “I’ll have a beer.”

Natasha looks over warily at the person joining her. You’re wearing a leather jacket over a flannel shirt that is only buttoned halfway up, and Natasha feels colder just looking at you. You puff on a cigar as you pull out a few folded bills and toss them on the counter. The smell of smoke causes her to cringe away in distaste and she notices you immediately take the cigar out of your mouth and stamp it out on the counter.

The bartender comes over, frowning at the new ashy ring on his wood countertop.

“Add it to my bill,” you grunt, pushing the money towards him and swapping them for a bottle. After you take a sip, you glance over at Natasha for a second, turning to face ahead and watch the television behind the bar.

Natasha drinks her water, wondering if she has the dexterity to steal from the tip jar when she can’t even feel her fingers. She had seen how much cash you had in your pocket–at least another $50–maybe if she played you up a little you’d buy her dinner. You were the only one in the restaurant who hadn’t eyed her like a meal, and Natasha knows you only put your cigar out for her. She has to put her plans on hold, however, when she hears heavy footsteps pad up from behind her. Someone taps on her shoulder.

“Hey, honey,” a gruff voice mumbles.

She doesn’t turn to look at him, but from the corner of her eye sees that it’s the big bald man who had been watching her from a booth since the moment she entered the restaurant.

“You came here alone, didn’t you?” the man asks. “You walked here.”

Natasha doesn’t respond. She notices your attention has moved from the television to the man standing behind her.

“Let me give you a ride home,” the man says, his voice heavy with unsaid intentions.

“No, thank you,” she says.

The man leans in closer to her until his alcohol-laced breath is hot against her ear. “It wasn’t an offer, honey.”

“She said no,” you growl. Both Natasha and the man looked surprised at your intervention.

“Fuck off,” the man spits. “You’re always taking girls home, let me have this one.”

You roll your eyes at his comment. Natasha looks at you with trepidation now as you get up, your footsteps somehow heavier than the man’s despite being shorter than him.

“Go home, Stu,” you tell him. “Alone.”

“Not tonight,” he spits, grabbing onto Natasha’s arm. Normally, she would never allow herself to be handled like this and would have broken Stu’s nose on the counter by now, but that’s a fight she didn’t know she could win in her current state. She tries squirming out of his iron grip but is dragged off the barstool instead. No one sees you lunge forward, cranking your arm back and punching Stu in the face. Natasha cringes when she hears what sounds like clanging metal and pushes away from Stu as he falls to his knees, crying and screaming while clutching his face.

“Are you okay?”

Natasha looks up and sees you offering her a hand. She grabs it, your palm rough but warm, and hops over Stu to stand next to you. She’s shocked to see that the lower half of his face is completely drenched in blood from his broken nose.

“You motherfucker!” Stu gasps, struggling to his feet.

“Stay down,” you suggest. “We should probably leave,” you tell Natasha, and against her better judgment, she eagerly follows you outside even after witnessing you take down a full-grown man with a single punch.

The wind is prickly against her skin and the cold weighs down her bones. Snow falls in hard pellets and Natasha lifts her arms over her face to protect it.

“My truck is over here!” you shout over the wind and Natasha numbly chases after you. It’s a beat-up red pickup truck that has certainly seen better days, but Natasha gives no comment as she climbs in and you turn on the heater, blasting her with warmth. “Sorry about Stu. I’ve never known him not to be an asshole,” you say, adjusting the vents in Natasha’s direction.

“Thank you,” she blurts out.

“Oh. Uh, you’re welcome.” You sound like you’re not used to being thanked. You turn the windshield wipers on to clear off the snow collected there. “I know Stu was right about one thing, though. You’re not from around here.”

“No,” Natasha admits. “Do you know if there’s a motel nearby I can stay in?”

“The closest one is thirty miles out,” you say. “But we’d be lucky to move even five with the snow picking up.” The windshield is almost fully caked in a layer of white again. “My place is only two miles from here. You can crash for the night and I’ll take you up to the city first thing tomorrow when the weather clears.”

Natasha wants to tear up at your generosity. She hasn’t known you for more than five minutes, and you’ve already rescued her from a creep and offered her a place to stay. Maybe her good luck is hanging on longer than she’d thought.

“I’d like that,” she says, and you nod, revving up the engine and driving out of the parking lot. The drive is completely silent but in a comforting way. Although you’re focused on the road, you only have one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift in a very relaxed, almost casual way. Natasha stares at your hands, curious as to why she can’t see any bruising on your knuckles from when you practically turned Stu’s face inside-out. You seem to notice her staring because you suddenly clear your throat and adjust your position, moving both your hands to the 5 and 7 o’clock positions of the steering wheel.

True to your word, your cabin is relatively close to the restaurant, although the drive feels longer to Natasha because you can’t go faster than 15mph. You park on the driveway, hurrying out before Natasha can even unbuckle her seatbelt to have her door open for her.

“Thank you,” she says, although reluctant to step back out into the cold.

“Go through the front door,” you tell her, handing her your house key. “I need to get some firewood from the garage first.”

Natasha darts to your porch, fumbling with the key frustratingly before she can get the door open. She stumbles into your home, stamping snow off her shoes. She finds the light switch, flipping it on and surprised to see how barren your house is. There’s a couch, a television, and a potbelly stove in the first room, and an opening to the kitchen on the left and your bedroom ahead. There’s not even a shelf of books or knick knacks as far as she can see.

“Sorry about the mess,” you grumble as you come in behind her, carrying an armload of splintered wood. “I wasn’t anticipating any visitors tonight.”

“It’s cozy,” Natasha comments as you throw a few pieces of wood into the stove and light some tinder underneath.

“The bathroom is through the bedroom if you need it,” you say. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Oh, wait, you don’t have to do that,” Natasha starts. “I’m your guest–”

“Don’t worry about it.” You wave her off. Natasha doesn’t know how to respond to your unending kindness. Sometimes, she forgets that good still exists in the world after all the evil she’s been running from. “I’ll heat up some soup. I hope you’re okay with ham and potato.”

“Thank you,” is all she can manage.

“Go ahead and wash up. I’ll need some time to warm up the soup. Use whatever you need. There’s a clean towel and some clothes on the left side of my closet that might fit you. They belonged to…an old friend.” Natasha hears the wistfulness in your voice, her curiosity piqued. But she doesn’t pry and goes into your bedroom, closing the door. She finds the clothes and a folded up towel that you mentioned, so she carries them all into the bathroom.

The hot water has never felt so wonderful as Natasha washes off the grimes from several days’ of traveling. But she enjoys it for too long and soon, the water runs cold. Motivated to step out, she dresses in the clothes you provided, glad for the wool that keeps her insulated and toasty. She joins you in the kitchen, where you’re ladling soup into two chipped bowls on the table.

“Feel better?” you ask her. You’ve taken off your leather jacket now, your checkered flannel fully hanging open over a white tank top. Natasha has no idea how you’re able to withstand the cold in the cabin, although the fire from the potbelly stove has made the temperature much more tolerable. In one less layer of clothing, she can see the muscles in your chest and shoulders, which certainly explained where your powerful punch came from. You have a beaded chain around your neck holding a pair of dog tags. While Natasha is still not sure what to think of you, she has a better idea now.

“I feel amazing,” she says, “Although I think I used up all the hot water–”

“It’s fine. Do you want a beer?”

“No, thank you. Water is fine.”

“Sure.” You pour her a glass from a pitcher in the fridge and grab a beer for yourself. She waits for you to sit with her before dipping her spoon into her bowl. The soup warms her up from the inside and before she realizes it, her bowl is empty before you’ve even had a few spoonfuls. Her cheeks heat up as you fill her bowl without being prompted.

“Thanks,” she murmurs and once again you only grunt in response. After you finish your soup, you don’t refill it, instead sitting back and sipping your beer. Neither of you talk, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. Natasha finishes her third bowl, scraping every drop onto her spoon, before her curiosity finally wins.

“Can I ask why you’re being so nice to me?” she asks.

You stare at her as if she’s just asked for your answer to a complex math equation. There’s a few seconds of pause before you respond. “Because you’re someone who doesn’t ask for help, even if you really need it.”

Your answer has Natasha even more confused.

“You remind me of myself,” you add, as if this is enough clarification. When you talk, your voice is low and gruff, almost like you’re not used to having someone listen to you. From the furnishings in your home, or lack of them, it’s clear you live alone and probably have for a while. With the closest settlement 30 miles away, Natasha is surprised you haven’t set up further out. Whatever life you had lived, it seemed like you just wanted to retire in peace, despite that you didn’t look older than 30 years.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she says. “After tonight, you can drop me off in town and I’ll be out of your way.”

“You’re not a burden,” you reply.

“And I’m not trying to be.” Natasha takes her bowl to the sink to wash it, but you stop her.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean up in the morning. You should get some rest.”

“Come on, let me do at least one nice thing for you,” Natasha begs.

“Hmm,” you mumble, your face twisting as you appear to think hard about her request. “How about you let me use the cold water in the bathroom to wash up, and then the bedroom is all yours?”

“Deal.”

But while you’re in the bathroom, Natasha sneaks back into the kitchen and washes the dishes. She can’t help herself; it just feels wrong to take advantage of your hospitality without giving you anything in return. She leaves the dishes to dry on the counter, then guiltily hunts around the remaining rooms for any further insight into your life before you get out of the shower.

In one of the kitchen drawers, she finds a small pocket knife that when folded, can be concealed perfectly in the palm of her hand. She had lost her own knife running through the forest earlier that day, and even though she can’t imagine having to use it against you, it makes her feel better to have a blade on her. She pockets it, hoping you won’t miss it, and keeps looking. But there is nothing to find: no receipts, no tags, not even a handwritten sticky note to yourself.

Natasha jolts when she realizes she hasn’t even asked your name yet.

You emerge from your bedroom, your hair flattened by the water, a towel slung around your neck. “Bedroom is all yours,” you say, dragging a moth-eaten blanket to the couch and dropping down on it. “I’ll be out here if you need anything.”

“One more question,” Natasha says. “I’m Nat. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.”

Natasha smiles. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Nat.”

***********************************************************************

BOOM.

You feel like you’ve only just fallen asleep, but you sit up at the sudden noise, momentarily forgetting where you are.

“Police! Open up!”

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

“What the…?” You blink in confusion, tripping over the blanket as you stumble to the door. Peeking through the blinds, you see four men in SWAT gear standing on your porch. All of them are armed with multiple guns and one of them holds a battering ram. But you don’t see any police insignia on any of their uniforms. A tank of a truck is parked on your driveway, blocking the path to your own, and any chance of unnoticed escape.

“Police! Open the damn door!”

“Y/N? What’s going on?” Natasha suddenly pops up in your bedroom doorway, her hair tousled and face drowsy.

“We’ve got company,” you respond, as there’s pounding at the door again. “They said they’re police, but I don’t think that’s true–”

“Oh, shit,” Natasha gasps. “They found me.”

“Found you? Who?” The hair on the back of your neck stands up.

“I’m so sorry. Oh my God. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you into this.” Natasha begins pacing your living room as bright lights stream through the windows. You probably won’t have much more time before they force entry.

“Nat, what’s going on? Who are these people?” you ask, running over to her. You’ve hardly known this woman for 12 hours, but you have a fierce desire to protect her from whatever’s hunting her. When you had first seen her in the bar, looking roughed up and sad, you had the urge to help her. But scaring Stu off wasn’t enough and even taking her to your home couldn’t keep her safe.

“I should have never come here,” Natasha cries. “You don’t deserve this, after everything you’ve done for me–”

“I can help you,” you insist. “Please, Nat. Just tell me who they are–”

She looks up at you, and even in the darkness the fear in her eyes is unmissable.

“The Red Room.”

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AN: Any guesses on R's mutant inspiration? :)

Click here for Part 2!

Please leave likes, comments, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

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indigoflorals · 1 year

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toxic - r.c (18+)

ex!rafe cameron x reader

your obsessive ex craves you

warnings: slight cnc, unprotected sex, oral, breeding kink, very rough sex, slight praise kink, toxic canon rafe warning </3

a/n: exbf! rafe won the poll <3 also! there is some terminology used to reference an american restaurant. if you are confused, the hostess is the person who seats guests, and the reader is a server/waitress <3

It was a Tuesday night, and the restaurant was slow. You had barely had any tables all night, and your tips had been bad. The hostess stepped into the kitchen where you were finishing up your break.

“I just sat one of your tables,” she frowned, pointing to a back corner, “Young guy, all on his own.” you turned, leaning to peak your head out of the kitchen. The table was empty.

“There’s nobody there.” you scoffed, taking a bite of your sandwich.

The hostess furrowed her brow, leaning out to view the table again. “Hmm,” she huffed, “He must have left.”

You walked out to the table to find the water the hostess had left empty, and a singular hundred dollar bill left for you.

The rest of your shift was slow, with you only having two more tables the entire night. The man at the corner table had never come back, and you didn’t worry about it.

“See you tomorrow,” you smiled, grabbing your bag and waving to the dishwasher. He smiled back, still sorting silverware. You checked the time again on your phone. 10:13. Still fifteen minutes to catch the last bus home.

You opened the back door to the restaurant, stepping out into the cool December air. Reaching into your bag for your sweater, you jumped at the sound of the door slamming behind you. Spinning around, you saw nothing. “It’s just the wind,” you exhaled, raising your arms to put on your sweater.

The moment you pulled your face through the head of the sweater, your felt a hand close in over your mouth. You tried to scream, but the hand pressed firmer. You wriggled and fought against the strong body behind you, but to no avail.

Your attacker leaned into your ear, holding you tight to his chest. “Relax baby,” Rafe cooed, laughing slightly at your clearly shaken up state, “Just me.”

He relaxed his grip, and you pulled free, panting, eyes wide. “What the fuck Rafe!” You half whispered half yelled, still very aware of the presence of your coworkers inside.

“I missed you. Wanted to see you,” he smiled, reaching a hand to cup your face. You slapped it away, staring at him in shock.

“So tried to fucking kidnap me?”

He huffed, extending a hand to you. “I was worried you’d get like this. Just let me give you a ride home.”

“You think I’m gonna get in your truck?” You growled, attempting to push past him.

He gripped your arm, stopping you. “Well,” he smirked, lifting his watch face to you, “It’s 10:23, and you won’t make it to the last bus in time now.”

You froze. How had the time gone by so fast? You were furious, partly because he had wasted your time and partly because he wasn’t wrong. You conceded, relaxing against his grip. “Okay. But you have to take me right home.”

“Of course, baby,” he nodded, pulling you towards where he was parked in the lot. You entered the vehicle in silence, placing your hands into your lap and your bag in front of you on the floor. You could feel his eyes on you.

“You look so beautiful,” Rafe raised a hand to touch your face but you swatted him away. He frowned, turned to start the car. “You know,” he huffed, driving to pull out of the lot, “You could be a little nicer to the person who’s taking you home.”

You glared at him. “You know why I’m not being nice to you.”

He rolled his eyes, “I told you I didn’t have sex with her. She only blew me. Plus you’re the only bitch I want.”

Before you could retort, you turned your eyes back to the road. This wasn’t the way home. “Rafe,” you slapped at his thigh, pointing out your window “My house is the other way.”

He didn’t reply, only sped up.

“Rafe,” you repeated, louder this time, “We’re going the wrong way.”

His eyes stayed on the road as he sped up again, “You’re staying with me tonight. Been so long since I’ve tasted that pussy.”

Your face flushed and you turned away from him. “No Rafe, I have an exam tomorrow, I need to–“

He shook his head, “I’ll take care of it. You just relax and come with me.” You stared at the bright lights of Tanneyhill as you pulled into the driveway. It had been months since you had seen it. Rafe put the truck in park, getting out to come to your door. He helped you down, pulling you into his arms.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” He pulled you into a quick kiss, “She meant nothing to me.” Your heart fluttered at his words. You really had missed him too. His strong arms enveloped you. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils. It was all so familiar.

You shivered a bit. “Can we go inside, Rafe?” Despite his warm body around you, the wind was tickling your skin. It was freezing.

“Of course,” he grinned, pulling his house key from his pocket and unlocking the door. He opened it quietly as not to disturb his sleeping family. He snaked an arm around your waist, ushering you inside ahead of him.

His home was dark despite a few small lights around the ceiling. It hardly mattered, because you knew the layout. You knew exactly where the stairs where even in the near pitch black as you walked up them, sliding your hand up the railing. You could hear Rafe’s footsteps behind you. Reaching the top of the steps, you knew also exactly which room was his in the minimal lighting. His arm snaked your waist again, leading you to the door. He pressed a kiss to your neck as you opened it. The two of you slid inside quietly, closing the door behind you.

Immediately he pushed you back against the closed door. You collided with it with a soft exhale, and the frame shook. You gasped, but where cut off by his lips on yours. You moaned into his mouth as his hands explored you body. Unhooking your bra, he slid his hands under it. He groped at the flesh of your tits, running his thumbs over your perked nipples. He broke the kiss to pull your shirt up and over your head.

“Look at you,” He whispered, leaning down to take your nipple into his mouth. You let ouf a soft moan, arching your chest into him. He reached around your body, pulling you harder into him. Releasing your nipple with a pop, he looked to you again. “My beautiful girl.”

Rafe took a step back before pulling his own shirt off. You stared at his muscular chest and arms, raising a hard to feel his bicep. He smirked, amused by your actions, “I’m all yours baby. You can feel me.” He took your hand in his, leading it down to cup his clothed erection. Your eyes widened.

“You’re so hard,” you whispered.

He nodded, a stern look cast over his face. “Now, kneel for me baby.” You submitted to Rafe without question, kneeling into the hardwood before him. He grinned, rough hand coming to your chin. “Good girl.”

You immediately reached to unbutton his pants, your hands shaking with excitement. It had been so long since you had tasted him. You pulled his pants and boxers down, exposing his cock already leaking with precum. Looking up to him, you batted your lashes. “Can I suck it, Rafe?”

He nodded, a blush coming to his cheeks. “Please.”

You leaned up to kiss the tip, taking it just past your lips. You felt a groan reverberate through your ex. Taking more of him, you used your tongue to prod the soft underside of his cock.

“Oh,” He moaned, hand coming to his mouth to quiet himself, “You’re doing so good, baby.” His hips bucked, cock thrusting farther into your mouth. You gagged on him, throat contracting around his tip.

Your eyes watered as you continued sucking and bobbing your head, Rafe’s fingers slotted into your hair as he gave shallow thrusts into your mouth.

Suddenly, he pulled his cock completely from your mouth. “Fuck,” He whined, cock twitching, “I wanna cum in your pussy baby.”

He helped you to your feet, kissing you again before pulling your jeans off. He lead you to the bed where you crawled on top of him to straddle him. “I don’t know if I can take all of you,” you blushed, “It’s been a while. You’re so big.”

A hand came to massage the fat of your ass as Rafe leaned his face into your neck. “I’ll be gentle, baby.” At his words, he pulled you down onto his cock. You cried out, the stretch burning with pain and pleasure. He was so big inside of you, his girth filling you to the brim.

“Rafe!” you cried, hips rocking into him, “It’s too much!” He pounded his cock into you mercilessly, and despite the pain, you could feel absolute pleasure inside of you.

Rafe’s free hand came to your face, pulling you to make eye contact. “You…are mine,” he grunted, fucking up into you, “Gonna fill up that pussy. Make you mine forever.”

You throbbed and clenched at his statement, sinking your nails into his shoulders. “Please Rafe, “ you cried.

You felt a warm sensation building in your tummy as Rafe fucked into you at a steady pace. His fingers came to your clit, and suddenly that warmth exploded. “I’m coming,” you whimpered, squeezing him.

His pupils blew wide at your words as he came inside of you, his thrusts going erratic. You felt the warmth pool inside of your pussy. His face was bright red and flushed, eyes trained on you.

As you both came down from your highs, you felt the guilt begin to sink in. “Fuck,” you groaned, climbing off of him, “Rafe, I need money for Plan B.” It hit you then that this was your cheating ex. He did happen to have good dick, but it was hardly worth it.

He shook his head, “I wasn’t kidding,” he scoffed, “You’re mine.”

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ozzgin · 11 months

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Yandere! Edward Scissorhands x Reader

On her quest to make at least one sale for the day, Avon lady Peg cautiously steps into the eerie mansion of a known inventor. She soon learns that it has long been devoid of life, with the exception of Edward, a synthetic human creation left unfinished. She returns to the bright suburbs accompanied by the poor young man, earning the curious stares of the bystanders. Among the colorful houses, however, Edward spots a gloomy dwelling that the neighbors seem to avoid. Who is the mysterious occupant?

Winner of the Halloween Poll! A short gothic romance in the style of Tim Burton, where two outsiders find solace in each other.

[Horror Masterlist]

The light yellow car slows down as it reaches the driveway and the engine stops. Peg makes her way out and hurries over to the passenger side, keys dangling between her fingers. She helps Edward out once she sees him awkwardly shuffling in the seat, unsure of his next step.

"You'll love it here. I just know it."

The woman hastily closes the door behind the tall, peculiar visitor. She places a gentle hand on his back and guides him down the asphalted path.

Edward's gaze briefly wanders further into the street. The houses are slithering along neatly, their vivid colors somewhat tiring to his unaccustomed eyes. Yet one of them sticks out. Strangely enough, it reminds him of home. A rusty iron fence surrounds the property, and patches of lush, unkempt vegetation creep through the bars. The walls are dark and crooked and the black tiled roof casts a shadow over the entire abode.

"Who lives there?" The question escapes his lips almost unconsciously.

Peg follows his gaze, eager to introduce the area to him. Once she settles on the source of his inquiry, her smile falters for a second.

"Oh, my. That's, well..." she lets out a forced laugh and encourages him to continue walking. "I'm glad you're already so curious, Edward dear. You'll get to know everyone soon, don't worry about it."

One more push and the guest has securely entered the house. As she prepares to twist the knob into a lock, she peeks out for the last time, surveying the surroundings with mild worry. A neighbor is walking their dog, whistling in the distance. As they approach the mysterious building, the animal begins to bark and the owner scurries to the other side of the street.

"He's so...strange!" one housewife exclaims, sipping on her lemonade.

Joyce is biting the temple tips of her sunglasses as she carefully inspects the dark haired man, currently using his sharp, spear fingers as barbecue skewers. She's batting her long eyelashes, entranced. She does like her men on the enigmatic side. In fact, she might just have a word with him. She folds the sunglasses and hangs them by the collar of her low-cut blouse. Of course, she doesn't forget her famous ambrosia salad as she departs from the rest of the fidgeting women.

"Ed, darling. You must try out my signature dish!" she daintily holds up a spoon and attempts to feed the pale newcomer.

He cautiously opens his mouth, unsure of how else to respond to the gesture. He tries to find Peg within the crowd, hoping she'll give him a new task away from this uncomfortably touchy person. And as luck would have it, his savior has come to the rescue. Peg doesn't hesitate to pull Edward away, cheerfully mumbling a domestic excuse.

Once freed from the shackles of awkward social interactions, the man tiptoes his way out of the yard and down the street. He doesn't like the constant murmur of people talking. He doesn't understand the jokes, the loud laughs, the complicit slaps on the back. He feels as if he's on the other side of a glass window, separated from an audience demanding cooperation despite him only being able to discern muffled, discontinued meaning.

None of this was mentioned in the Etiquette book. Or perhaps it has always been there, and the Inventor never got to the specific chapter. Died lamentably before he could explain how one navigates neighborhood BBQ parties.

Edward's step is clumsy and he doesn't have a particular direction in mind. In his scattered daze he nearly trips over something and turns around apologetically. You're sitting on the ground, resting against the fence. The book you were reading is now thrown aside, as you're too busy massaging the ankle that just got kicked by the sudden intruder. You look up, ready to scold the responsible airhead, but your eyes stop on an eccentric feature that catches your attention.

"What happened to your hands?"

You're a little embarrassed by your unexpected, tactless curiosity. The man seems entirely unfazed, however.

"They weren't finished. I'm incomplete."

"Hmm. Isn't everyone?"

Edward considers the question and recalls the people he's met so far. Peg and her husband. Joyce. The children.

"But they don't look unfinished. They have all the body parts."

You chuckle slightly at the literal observation.

"Well, you can't check them on the inside, can you? Most people have missing parts. Or broken ones."

"Where would you get it fixed, then?" Edward is startled by this new discovery.

"You learn to fix it yourself. Otherwise it just stays like that, maybe forever."

He lifts his hands and stares at them. Is he going to be like this forever, too? He hasn't pondered the concept of time much before Peg had found him. Yet now, 'forever' feels unsettling.

"Do your hands bother you that much?"

Edward doesn't know how to reply. He wishes he could resemble everyone else, that much is true. Then people wouldn't stare. And they wouldn't be afraid. As he mulls over the right words, he suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings. It's the house he noticed earlier, when he first arrived here. Which means...

He examines the person before him. They, too, look complete. So why?

"Why does everyone avoid this place?" He remembers the gathering he just left. "You weren't at the neighborhood party either. I thought all neighbors will show up."

"I was never invited."

"Why?"

You shrug.

"You're also not currently attending, are you? Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"I took a break. It's too loud. Can I sit here?"

Before you can answer, he drops himself next to you with a thud. His fingers swish together as he adjusts his posture.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. What is your name? I'm Edward."

"Uhh... (Y/N)." You mutter, taken aback by his direct approach. What an odd fellow, you think to yourself.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)." As he scans your features again, he feels compelled to add, "You look rather pretty."

A faint blush takes over your face and you twirl your hair in an attempt to hide it. Is he mocking you? You genuinely can't read his intentions.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Edward. I think the hands add to your charm." You eventually find the confidence to blurt it out, quickly following up with a laugh.

His heart tightens and he almost forgets about his hazardous extremities, having to stop himself from touching his now throbbing chest. He's never malfunctioned before. It doesn't feel like anything is wrong, either. Your comment, for some reason, made him very happy.

(Y/N). Looking back to everything that happened, he's glad. Maybe he should thank Joyce next time he sees her. He wouldn't have met you otherwise.

As the sun begins to set, you remind Edward that it's impolite to leave a party for too long. He protests, stating he prefers your company. As flattered as you are, you rephrase it as Peg being worried about his sudden disappearance and he feels bad enough to agree on his early retirement. On the condition he can hang out with you again. Once you guarantee a reunion, he makes his way back home.

As he lays on Kim's bizarrely fluid mattress, tucked into the layered pastel sheets, Edward is overwhelmed by a strange, unfamiliar warmth. A wide, childish smile is plastered on his face and won't go away. Each time he closes his eyes to fall asleep, he pictures the encounter. (Y/N). It's a nice name, isn't it? He finds it particularly charming. He whispers it out loud in the dark room, as if making sure it's real. Reminding himself you're real.

He can't properly explain it. It's the same thick window that stands between him and the world, but you're next to him. An outsider. A rejection. The idea that someone else out there shares his struggle has cleansed him of any longing for acceptance. Why bother with a sea of foreign, smudged faces? Peg becomes Joyce, and Joyce fades into Marge, and they all become a generic crowd of smiling pleasantries. It's a funny thing, being among humans. Once he left his old mansion behind, he realized how truly alone he had been. Still, being surrounded by people he could not comprehend made him feel even more lonely. That is the tragedy; sitting at the grand table, empty handed, unseen, unheard. Misunderstood. No one's fault, really. It just happens. But every now and then, if fate so allows, one might just find another starved attendant. With the same glint in their eyes, of someone not belonging.

Oh, he can't wait to see you again.

It's unusually noisy outside for a late evening and you can't help but glance out the window. That's when you notice the roaring crowd, trampling in a hysterical march of unknown purpose. You have a bad feeling about it. The horned moon leers down at you like a bad omen and you quickly throw a jacket on, sprinting into the street.

"What's this all about?" you shyly ask the nearest group.

"Witch!" Esmeralda scowls at you with a pointing finger.

Peg notices the commotion and runs towards you, completely disregarding the prophetic warnings of the woman.

"Oh, (Y/N). It's Edward. They..." she sighs, frustrated. "I know I don't have the right to ask you this, but you're his friend. Could you please make sure he's alright?" Her voice is pleading and regretful.

You nod without saying anything else. Before you turn to leave, you swiftly gesture to Esmeralda, raising your index fingers up and mimicking a devilish look. She gasps and throws her hands together in prayer.

It had to be done.

Meanwhile, Edward has reached his old mansion and just now stopped in the entrance hall, panting anxiously. He feels nauseous and helpless. It's not that he's being chased by the enraged members of the neighborhood that alarms him. He cannot stand the possibility of not being in your presence ever again. How frightful, how agonizing! He claws at a nearby column in turmoil.

It can't be, it won't happen. He'll tear his way through the masses if he has to. Oh, what a terrible thought. His Inventor would roll in the grave if he knew the violent ruminations that plague him right now. But if he has no other choice...Would he go as far as taking someone's life if it was for your sake? Well, technically speaking, his sake, really. He wants to see you. He needs to.

Panic slowly creeps through his body. The thoughts are piling up in an erratic hum and he can't find his focus again. He paces back and forth, attempting to recollect himself, but there's an urgency that drowns him in cold sweat.

"Edward?"

The ringing stops. A switch has been flipped and he snaps his head in the direction of the voice. It's you. Completely spellbound, he extends his hand to touch your face, verifying whether you might be an illusion of his feverish desires instead. The blade pierces your skin, leaving a bright red trail behind.

"I'm so sorry-" he cries out, realizing his act.

You softly lower his hand with a reassuring smile.

"It's just a small cut. Don't worry about it. I think we have more important matters at hand, won't you agree?" you joke as you nudge your head towards the window.

"I spoke to the police officer on the way here, so we shouldn't have any surprise guests."

You remove your jacket and throw it over some dusty furniture before climbing up the stairs. Halfway through you briefly stop and urge Edward to join you. He simply nods.

When the issue is settled and everything has been said and done, will you return to your miserable exile? Won't the neighbors become suspicious if you're frequently seen sneaking up the hill? Perhaps even the utmost secrecy won't prolong the visits much.

And then what?

As he considers the potential scenarios, he becomes increasingly impatient. The joy of your return has been tainted by the impending doom of abandonment. He wishes you'd just stay with him here, forever.

Once the conclusion has been reached, he lets out a quiet apology. Maybe to you, maybe to the beloved Inventor, maybe even to himself. He inserts a finger into the entrance lock and silently twists it.

You must forgive him. Or at least try to understand him. He just loves you too much, (Y/N). Is it truly such a hideous crime? To want to keep you safe? If so, he will live with the guilt. But not without you.

You're home.

#edward scissorhands #edward scissorhands x reader #johnny depp x reader #tim burton #tim burton movies #halloween imagine #spooky season #yandere #yandere x reader #halloween

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sofiareidings · 1 year

Text

Coffee Runs

Summary: The guy who's been coming to the cafe you work at finally asked why you've never called him by his name.

A/N: I'm sorry this story is so late, especially since I missed Monday's post. School has been so busy this week and I've also had a bunch if extracurricular lately. I'll try and be more on time from now on (Don't hold me to that) Also! I got the idea for this one shot from @hanllo-kitty

Word Count: 0.8k

Song Suggestions: Invisible String - Taylor Swift

It was a good job, a great job really. The cafe was in a nicer part of town and people would subconsciously give nice tips so your pay was good. Rarely were customers terrible. Most people that came in were students or really busy people rushing in and going.

There were a few regulars. Like Joe, Joe was an eighty year old man who came in everyday for a coffee and a sandwich. While he waited he would talk about the lotto numbers and how his kids were doing. There was also Lola, she was a journalist who spent most of her day sitting in the corner of the cafe while refilling the same cup until closing.

But there was only one regular you would think about while getting ready for work.

Come on, I don't know his name. Don't shoot the messenger.

He'd been coming in for the past three months almost everyday, right after the cafe opened for a coffee. He always looked a little tired and acted like it too. He barely made conversation and normally shuffled out of the store in the same fashion as the other overworked people; quickly.

You hadn't learned his name yet. He always seemed to forget to say it when you asked, which resulted in you making up something.

"Guy with the sweater vest!"

"Guy in the purple!"

"Guy with the scarf!"

You get the point.

He was your favourite regular because of his looks. God, even when he was incredibly sleep deprived he looked beautiful. He had brown hair that fell just below his sharp jaw. Brown eyes that always happened to be in the light from the cafe window, making the small gold flakes in his eyes shine. He was normally dressed in a sweater vest and neutral pants, he probably worked at some type of office. The one part of him that stood out in his outfits were his converse, odd for the rest of his outfit. You could've sworn a few times you saw brightly coloured mismatched socks.

***

The sound of the cafe bell echoed through the nearly empty shop, having only opened half an hour ago. Smiling in the direction of the person walking in you quickly noticed it was 'Guy with *whatever he had on*" who came in. Something was different, he had thick glasses on. That was new.

"Hey, just the regular coffee and donut?" You put the order into the computer, looking back up at him. Taking in the new look.

"Yeah, thanks." His lips creased into a line, you called it a tired smile, the same one he made everyday. He handed over his money and poured the change into the tip jar then stepped back to wait for his order.

A couple minutes later you came back to the counter with his order. "Guy with the glasses!"

He did his usual, smiled and grabbed his order saying bye. But just when he reached the threshold of the door he paused and turned. "Why do you do that?"

Having already turned around you paused, this was the first time he'd talked to you in a clear voice. You weren't really sure what he meant. "Do what? Did I get your order wrong?"

He cleared his throat and seemed a little frustrated. "You never say my name, you just call me guy with something. Is it just to annoy me?"

"What? No, you've just never told me your name." Laughing a little, realising the misunderstanding.

"I didn't?" His face changed to confusion, "Oh my gosh, I didn't." He realised his mistake then his face flushed a shade of red.

"Don't worry, it's okay. Guy with the glasses." You laughed, looking around the cafe for a minute, strange it was still pretty empty.

"I am so sorry, I thought I told you and you just wanted to annoy me. I feel like a jerk, you seem so nice." Genuinely sorry he apologised profusely. "Can I make it up to you?"

Deciding to take the chance, you'd been daydreaming about this guy for months. "Well, maybe you could take me on a date." A little shocked by your own boldness, your face went up like twelve degrees.

"Uh, yeah…" He trailed off, clearly flustered. "Yeah, I would really like that."

"Well then, it's a date." You beamed, internally jumping up and down out of excitement. Since when were you so forward? He made that smile he made everyday before turning towards the door again.

That's when you realised.

"Wait!" You shouted, louder than you expected. Causing your coworker to drop a cup. "You still haven't told me your name."

"It's Spencer. I'll make sure to be back tomorrow." He nodded again and chuckled lightly before finally walking through the door.

God could tomorrow morning come any quicker.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #fandom #fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #sofiareidings

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iliketangerines · 7 months

Note

hi!! i know you already did revenant johnny cage, but i was wondering if maybe you could do another one where he's, like, softer?? maybe like a part two to the first one, if that makes sense?

it's okay if not though!

i just wanna say that your writing is SO GOOD!! i found your account a few days ago and i'm literally starving for more mk content and your stuff is amazing!! <3

come back to me pt.2

a/n: i gotchu cutie, and thank you!! it means a lot that you like my writing. also, i do NOT condone kidnapping in real life

pairing: revenant!johnny cage x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), creampies, pussy eating, finger-fucking, overstimulation, stockholm syndrome

you’ve been stuck in the Netherrealm palace for an unknown amount of time, it’s hard to tell the time down in hell

you’re restricted to Johnny’s bedroom, which has a grand bathroom and closet attached to it, so you aren’t limited in terms of space at least

you aren’t starving either, someone mysteriously leaves food for you three times a day, like clockwork, and it’s the only way you’ve been able to tell whether it’s day or night

but you aren’t allowed to wear clothes, at most a night gown so sheer it might as well not be there at all, but with the heat, maybe it was better to only be wearing that

most days you’re bored though, boredom gnawing at your bones and unspent energy thrumming in your body

the first few days here you had tried to escape, kicking and screaming, but Johnny had quickly disciplined you, and so you decided it would be better to not fight back

the highlight of your days is when Johnny unlocks the bedroom door and rushes to you and smothers you in kisses before bringing you to bed and holding you close to him, as if scared you’re going to disappear

you’re waiting in bed again, staring out the window at the hellscape outside, you should be doing something, anything, your mind is hazy as the days blur together

but you hear the door clicking open and jump up in excitement, if you had a tail, it’d be thumping against the bed in excitement

it’s Johnny, tall and broad, opening the door and locking it behind him

he’s carrying something behind his back, and you’re excited, rushing toward him and immediately trying to see what’s in his hands

he laughs at your excitement, leaning his head down and asking where his welcome back kiss is

you huff but get on the tips of your toes to give him a quick kiss

when you try to pull back, he cradles the back of your neck, forcing you to stay up on your toes as he deepens the kiss

he taps the back of your neck, and you obediently jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, whimpering when you feel his hard cock press against your bare cunt

he squeezes your ass, and you open your mouth, moaning in surprise, and he slips his tongue into your mouth

by the time, he presses you into the bed, you’re wet and needy, whining for him to do anything besides kiss and run his hands along your skin

he tells you to be patient and pulls away to give you what he has in his hands

you take it from him and open up the box, eyes lighting up in surprise when you see chocolate-covered strawberries

you excitedly pick one up and eat it, moaning appreciatively at the taste, before proceeding to eat them happily

the food the mysterious person gave you was fine and all, but it had left you aching for something sweet, and you’re nearly in tears when half of the box is gone

you miss Earth, and its taste, and the sunlight, and your friends and you can’t help it as you start to cry as you eat

Johnny immediately wipes away the tears, asking what’s wrong as a worried look takes over his face

you look up into his glowing red eyes and ask him in a quivering voice that you miss home

he just coos at you and says that this is home now, and he moves the strawberries out of the way to kiss you

he traps you between his arms, deepening the kiss, and you just whine at the feeling and wrap your arms around his neck

he grinds into your bare cunt, and you follow suit until you’re breathless and dazed, mind retreating to a different place

he kisses down your body, never biting or teasing, just worshiping your body and its entirety

when he reaches your cunt, he takes a few seconds to admire how wet it is and how you clench around nothing before diving in

he takes his time, leaving long strokes with his tongue on your clit and fucking you nice and deep with his thick fingers

you’re a whining mess and grip onto his hair, tugging at it lightly as you get closer and closer to the edge

finally, he lightly sucks on your clit, and you go over the edge, stars dancing in your vision as your back arches off the bed

he fucks you on his fingers through your orgasm, and when you’ve come down, he takes his fingers from your pussy and licks them clean before moving back up so he’s face to face with you

you tug at his belt, desperate to give back the same pleasure, but he gently pulls your hand back up, saying that this is about you

he kisses your lips, sliding in slowly

you whine at the stretch, no matter how many times Johnny fucked you, you could never really adjust

he fucks into you with shallow thrusts, letting you get used to the stretch before switching to deeper and longer thrusts, the both of you groaning into each other’s mouths

he fucks you slowly and sweetly, rubbing your clit slowly with one hand, and intertwining your hands together with the other

he makes love to you, making you come over and over on his cock, all while whispering sweet-nothings to you

he says how he loves you so much, how you’re so perfect for him, that you’re doing so well for him

he gives one final thrust, staying deep inside of you as he cums inside your pussy

you’re whining, eyes unfocused and mind gone as he stays inside of you and peppers kisses along your face

you both fall asleep like this, and whenever Johnny brings you something sweet, a cupcake, some fruit, some chocolate, you know you’re in for a slow long night of love

and you slowly begin to forget your days on earth

#tangerine writes #mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat smut #mk smut #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk x y/n #mk x you #johnny cage #johnny cage mk11 #mk11 johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut

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kuni-is-daddy · 1 year

Note

OKAY HEAR ME OUT (new anon here btw :3)

summoner!y/n summons a demon, that demon being scara but he was a very… lustful demon and had needs for his own, using y/n as his own personal pet >_<

DOM!Demon Scara X Summoner Female Reader

//HI ANON. WELCOME TO THE SCARANATION I HOPE U ENJOY UR STAY♥️

ScaramoucheMasterList

word count: 1.67k(150 follower special ♥️)

Featuring: A mention of chongyun,xiao and Kujou sara.

Warning: Scara horni. ((Teasing,Blowjb,M/press,Biting, aftercare.))

MINORS AND UNDERAGED BLOGS/USERS THIS IS NSFW CONTENT! PLEASE DONT INTERACT BEYOND THE CUT.

A cycle, That is what you would call your life once you moved from inazuma at a young age and became the strongest summoner in teyvat. Waking up in your house by guili plains to be greeted by your younger friend, Exorcist Chongyun at the door. He was a good kid and even saw you as his idol despite being in rival clans. Summoners had demon familiars. And would lead exorcists and even the lone yaksha of guili plains to exterminate the corruption deep within liyue. You wore a similar outfit to him with opposing colors. A white embroided hoodie with dark blue aligned the stitches, a black undershirt and skirt, separated by a silver belt holding your vision and trinkets to sedate demons; leading down to your stockings and boots. Wake up, summon spirits to kill, Run errands for the higher ups, train and sleep. So, you had a plan, Rebellion. All you needed was shouki no kami. The first descendant of the raiden gakoden who was sealed by his own creator. He was known for mediocre things; giving wishes or killing those that the summoner wanted dead. Only for a small price..

After moving all of the belongings out to the living room you stood in your empty room infront of the tri electro symbol made of chalk as lightning struck from the outside. The only thing remaining was your made bed and backpack. Along each side of the tri electro symbol laid 3 'artifacts' Each one representing the three betrayals he once suffered. The first was a figure of the almighty narukami ogoshu, something you had plenty of thanks to your distant friend kujou sara. The second was a blade crafted by a swordsmith from tartarsuna. The 3rd was a doll representing a young male child. As a summoner it was against your sworn oath to ever summon a demon for evil. But it didn't matter, with this new life shouki no kami would give you there'd be no need to turn back.

With a deep breath you began the chant and closed your eyes. "Oh everlasting arcane demon of wisdom I summon you forth with the 3 artifacts of your betrayals. Please bestow your divine gaze upon me." With the last word leaving your lips the world fell silent, not a single drop of rain poured down your cracked window and remained suspended with the rays of lightening as if all time stopped. It was ominous and different from you previous summons. Painfully silent with your rushing heartrate in your ear as the only comfort. You opened your eyes at the disturbance and looked at the ritual. 'The offerings are missing..So it worked.' you began to take a step to observe your surroundings when a timid yet soothing voice echo'd from behind you.

"Another human asking for my help. Hah, to think such a self righteous species would run to a demon." You turned to face the demon, falling into his enticing gaze as if it was the abyss itself as he sat on your bed, legs crossed and head resting against his fist on your headboard. The demon had a beautiful face, indigo hair that covered his ears and slashed against the blood red eyeliner. His horns we'rent too big and neither was his black tail with a heart shaped tip. "I'll make this easy for you, im not in a good mood. So dont waste my time." you blinked out of his capitvating gaze and remembered why you summoned him. "S-sorry. Im a summoner and my name is y/n. I..Want a new life." The demon raised an eyebrow "Y/n.. Now thats a surprise." He looked you up and down, examining your appearance. It really was you. Same face, same vision and the same beautiful body.. The demon smirked. "uhm..Do you know me?" you replied "Tsk, who doesnt? 'y/n, the savior of liyue and summoner of demons." He mocked. "Alot of people want you dead, you know that?" your heart sunk at his words. "D-dead.. why?" "Dunno. But if it we're me, come one. Come all id say." Shouki no kami left you in shock. You've already thought this 'destined' life of yours was a burden. But others didn't even want you to live it any longer. Your stomach began to turn a the thought, covering your mouth from nausea.

"But would you look at that, I finally got to see this pathetic world's strongest." He smiled, watching as you covered your mouth in disgust. "Pft- Don't tell me you'd really believe everything I said just like that? I'm a demon, I could be lying to you~" he teased, but you we're to caught up in his words, if they wanted you dead.. why did he refuse and kill them instead? Looking back at the demon, he seemed unbothered.. intrigued actually. It began creeping you out more then the thought of having a unknown target over your head for so long. The way he looked at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes during the subtle silence of your nervous breathing to the way his tail would sway when you told him your name... 'So.. a new life. That's what you want?' No kami unproped his legs, hitting his heel on your bag. Interested, He looked back at you again still stuck in a shocked daze and turned back to it. Picking it up as his black nails tugged at the zipper, revealing the many cursed tools, a sigil of permission and even the picture of him you used for the ritual. He took out the ripped paper. 'Shouki no kami, scaramouche: The prodigal.' "WAIT- dont touch that!" you snatched the bag from his hand, letting out a relieved sigh. "T-theres all kinds of things in there that could hurt you...and why are you even going through my stuff?!" you said defensively. "Hurt me? you think those little toys in there would have an effect on me." he revealed the sigil of permission in his hand, flinging it around like a human feeding a dog while sticking out his tongue. You angerly placed the bag down, climbing onto your bed and trying to take back the sigil.

Scara relished in your attempts to take it, your skirt brushed against his shorts while the fingertips of your smooth left hand grazed along his ripped black shirt. The closer you got to the demon, the more you smelled a metaled tint coming from him. The small droplets of blood oozing onto your hand. He would never let someone be ontop of him, nor have him in a view of submission but compared to the past summoners who he's killed. You've been the only interesting one and ontop of that..The strongest. The demon licked at his fangs, slowly bucking his hips up against your lower body. But with his guard down you snatched the sigil back and tucked it ontop of the dresser. Relaxed by Leaning back and sitting on the demons clothed length. This is the life you wanted, peaceful with no worrys of who killed who and what to summon, ironically for a split second this demon gave you that life. "How childish, the strongest summoner chasing after a sigil like a cat." "T-thats not the point.. Stop acting funny and give me my wish!" 'brat' You insisted as your body passively grinded against him. "A new life, Is that all you truly want?" He flicked his free hand as a spark of electro glowed Infront of your face. It was enticing, you already we're told people wanted you dead so what more did you have to lose. "Y-yes! I want it..please Shouki no kami." your fingers dug into the demons shirt. His cock twitched at the way you pleaded for his blessing, over something so stupid as a 'new life' he knew more then anyone the divine dont mind playing cruel tricks on its prisoners.

----Smut

"Then get on your knees." The words left his smooth lips as his tail trailed to your leg, feeling against the texture of your stockings. Making you jolt up a little from the sensation. "E-excuse me?!" "You fucking heard me. Get on your knees and show me how bad you want this life." It was threatening, with no hesitation you quickly rose off of the demon as he began propping himself up just as you first saw him only his legs we're spread and eyes filled with lust. You looked back at the sigil only for scara to grab you by your hair to have you face directly at his pained boner. "To think the strongest would be more focused on a useless thing like this instead of me." He jerked your head again, "Now tell me, y/n. How bad do you want this life?" "M-more then anything shouki no kami! Please." He chuckled, "Anything huh?" "Y-yes shouki no-" He sucked his teeth. "Scara, call me scara." "O-okay scara..Please take my blood and-" He cut you off, "blood? You think i need your blood for this?" you nodded, "No, brat. I have something better for me and you." His black painted nails disappeared into his pants, slowly revealing the tip of his length then the rest of his cock. You gulped, From your position his size looked bigger then your whole head. No..you we're sure it was bigger. "Be a good girl and make me feel good, Maybe then i'll give it too you." He brushed the tip near your face.

Reluctantly, you licked your lips the trailed your tongue around the tip while the demon did nothing but stare at you as he held your hair, Unamused. "More. Do you not know how to suck a cock?" Your heart raced as he tightened his grip along your hair. It was humiliating with your title to be down on a demon like this and you we're sure the pervert was getting off to it. His length entered your mouth. "hng..Shit your so warm." You began bobbing your head up and down slowly, Adjusting to his size. "Fuck..Thats it..Go faster." He bucked his hips up into your face, Hitting the back of your throat as you desperately avoided gagging. "Fuck...faster. Be a good pet and make master feel good" You shifted your free hand down and under your skirt. Tending the sudden wetness inbetween your legs. Scara ran his hand through his hair, watching your hand trail down to your skirt. "Oh yeah? Is my pet getting off to this? How- Hng..Fucking pathetic.." his tail trailed against your hoodie and back to your neck. nudging against you more to take him deeper. "Fuck yes..Masters close, swallow it all pet- Ah swallow it~" He tugged his hand on your hair again, Pressing you up and down on his cock balls deep as he reached his high. Your eyes began rolling back as you choked on his length, tears streaming down your cheeks and Gripping your hand onto his thigh from his aggression while your other toy'd with your clit. With a loud groan his hot fluid rushed down your throat making you see stars as he pulled your head off his length. "Ngh...shit..Such a good pet..Who would've thought the great y/n would-" "P-please sca-master can i have my wish now?" he tilted his head at your request. Oh right.. you did ask for a new life. "Sure pet~ Get on the bed." you whined from his words "M-master~ please i-" He picked you up, slamming you onto the bed face down. squishing your head onto the pillow while jerking your hips up and ass near his cock. Your skirt poofed up, revealing your now ripped stockings near your private parts. Scara's fangs we're aching to just sink his teeth into your thighs or any part of your body but you we're the strongest after all, he didnt take that forgranted. The second he let his guard down again you'd most likely try to take advantage.

He trailed his hand under your skirt, while the other brushed your hips closer to his cock. All you could do was hug the pillow through your muffled pleads. "M-master! Please- wait- d-dont touch their its-" "Wet? Hah..I know pet~ you want this cock so bad dont you?" He ripped your stockings and skirt off and began stroking at his length before entering. Even slapping at your ass just to laugh at you jolting from it. "This...is going to be your new life pet~" In a blink he shoved his entire length inside you. "S-scara! Wait ah~ i-its too big!" He leaned down, grabbing and choking you from the back of your neck. "AH~ Mahster~ I-i cant~ Please~" He grew irritated at your pleads. "Shh..You'll be fine pet. Now be good f' me and take it~ fuck.." the sound of skin slapping and your headboard creeking echo'd across the room as scara groaned and even let out higher pitched moans from how good you we're taking him. "Thats it..Just like that.. Im gonna fucking cum inside you for being such a good girl. The strongest- Hah~ fucking summoner crying for me. Fuck yes~" He let go of your throat, as you panted and drooled on the pillow from his now faster pace. "Master~ AH~ Y-your going to fast! I- m' close!" "Fuck yeah your gonna squirt f' me? Do it y/n~ Cum all over my cock and ill give it to you~ Hah.. Ill give you what you fucking want~" A chord struck in you, and for the next couple of seconds it felt as if your mind turned to mush while you sunk into the pillow, panting from the juices that escaped onto his length. Scara couldnt help himself anylonger, He flipped you over onto your back then pulled his pants completely off as you still held onto the pillow in shock. Folding your legs onto his shoulders and pounding into you in a mating press. "Hiding behind a- ah~ pillow now? Tsk- you really are pathethic-" He tossed the pillow onto the floor and sunk his head into your neck. "Mahster! AH MASTER T'TO MUCH~ SCARA-" He sunk his fangs into your neck. Making you moan out and grab onto his horns from the shock wave of pain and pleasure. He came instantly from your grip and passive stroking on his horns. Painting your walls white with his sticky load. He pulled away from your neck after noticing your sudden rested breathing. 'She passed out' he thought. Scoffing, he licked up clean the small amount of blood from your neck. Leaving his electro symbol in replace of the healing bitemark. Scara didnt know what came over him, But his tail shifted towards the palm of your hand as if it had a mind of its own. Your too precious.

'To think id be setting up a bath for another human.' in a few quick teleports you we're in your tub surrounded by bubbles and a sweet smell of your soap. Your eyelashes fluttered from the water and vivid sight of the demon. "Tsk. Do all summoners have such a messy living room?" "S-sorry..Does that mean i get my wish now?" the demon wiped a lather of soap on your chest while admiring the size of your breasts. "Your still obsessed over that? Hmm..." "I-it is your job as a demon isnt it? To grant wishes. Or at least for you-" he smirked at your reply. "Clever arent you? Well..The situations changed since you've never specified what you wanted in this 'new life.' Your going to be my personal fu- pet. In exchange, I'll...Tag along with you. I want to see how strong the 'savior of teyvat' really is.."

In that moment you wanted to burry your head under the soapy water but all you did was let out a heavy sigh and sink Into the touch of him resting behind you, coating your skin in soap. Scara was right, the divine have cruel ways of playing tricks on its prisoners. But maybe..just maybe.. you we're both a blessing in disguise for each other.

THANK YOU FOR READING :)

#scaramouche smut #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x yn #genshin smut #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin thirsts #scaramouche x female reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #genshin x female reader

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years

Note

hello love! can i make a request for gaz x f!reader she a civilian and a florist and he keeps visiting her and they slowly fall for each other and he calls her his sunflower or something cute like that? you can make up the rest, sorry if it’s not super detailed!

Gossamer Silk Smiles

Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Florist!Reader

Synopsis: You loved your job more than anything, and at the end of the day, even with pricked fingers and cramped muscles, you went to bed happy. It had all been going well, insanely well. You were focused; self-assured... Until he showed up.

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Insane amount of fluff, this is the definition of a soft fic, beginning of a relationship

A/N: I know this man would treat me right. Also changed the nickname around a bit, but sunflowers are still prominent. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you opened your flower shop, you told yourself there was no going back – no distractions or second options. This was what you loved more than anything and at the end of the day, even with pricked fingers and cramped muscles, you went to bed happy. It had all been going well, insanely well.

Until he showed up.

It had been a shitty day, one for the record books, in your opinion. Shipments for Larkspur, Zinnias, and Sunflowers had come to the shop damaged. The boxes had been so beaten up you half-believed the mail carrier had gotten into a personal disagreement with them. All initial humor aside, you were now out of this week's product as well as a good chunk of money – the flowers couldn’t even be considered that anymore, seeing as they were really just broken stems and stray crumpled pedals. Then came the unusual amount of rude customers and the building of minor inconveniences.

But to your credit, you didn’t let it get to you.

Well…externally, at least.

“Have a great rest of your day,” you force out with a strained smile to an older woman who only huffs. She stalks out of the shop with a vase full of Daylilies, Purple Cornflowers, Yarrow, and Taro leaves. “I hope your brother gets well soon–” The glass door shuts with a clatter of the small silver bell attached to the frame.

Leaning back on your heels, your eyes close; taking down a deep breath, you hope your lungs won't explode in your chest as you hold it there.

“Fucking hell.” The air flies from you in a weak groan.

Your fingers tap against the countertop, and a small, humorless, chuckle later you’re walking out to change the window sign to closed instead of open. It was well past your usual shift anyways, but the previous customer had been relentless about the ‘perfect bouquet.’

“Like there’s even such a thing,” your lips twist into an annoyed frown as you speak to yourself in a grumble. “...Should have just denied her service… Didn’t even leave a tip.”

You really wouldn’t have minded helping her that much if she had just been kinder towards you.

Grabbing the small paper sign held up by a suction-cup hook, you flip it around with little thought, already trying to plan out a way to make up for the weeks worth of ruined product. You don’t even notice the man speeding down the sidewalk until his desperate face is staring right into yours – only separated by a thin piece of glass.

Yelping, your shoulders tense at the sudden visage.

The man was around your age, tall, and had a handsome face inlaid with eyes reminiscent of deep amber. Light reflected off the iris in ways you can only describe as the glinting sun does off waves of water; gentle. Nearly soft, really. He was wearing a ball cap with an embroidered British flag on the front and had a panicked look set on his lips.

Close to the door handle, his long fingers freeze mid-air and you find the prominent muscular build and set of his shoulders staining the back of your eyelids like a movie screen. Whoever this guy was, it didn’t stray from the fact that he was attractive.

You’re not happy about it, but your mind blanks as you stare with wide eyes; heart steady in your breast.

He blinks at you, square jaw loose, also double-taking from beyond the see-through barrier. His flickering eyes flew quickly over your form just as you had ogled him moments prior.

Silly, perhaps, and childish at best, but you felt your throat tighten with stilled breath. There was a small chunk of time that you both just gawked at each other – as if Cupid had suddenly stabbed you both with one of his blots; gazes inexplicably locked as blood dripped to the floor from copper arrowheads.

If you were more gullible, you would have called it love at first sight. But you were anything but that.

Sighing, you rip your eyes away and take a breath. Opening the door with more questions than answers, you were praying that it didn’t get dark before you could help this man with whatever it is that he needed.

I can see the fucking veins on his forearms. You think as the chilled air hits your face, recalling the peek you sent to the rolled-up sleeves of this stranger’s blue button-down.

The bell above you dings as you set the door in the crook of your shoulder, leaning out halfway. Clearing your throat, you ask steadily, “Can I help you, Sir…?”

He sets his stubbled jaw, vision snapping to the side for a split second that was so fast you almost missed it.

“Erm…my apologies, Ma’am, for rushing up like that.” He lets off a chuckle, and the flag on his hat is quickly explained away by the prominent accent. “Hope I didn’t worry you.”

Fighting the uptick of your lips you feel your chest let go of a sliver of tension. He was smiling slightly at you, the khaki pants he wears creasing as his feet set themselves; his brown eyes never leave your face.

Respectful, you think.

“Not every day you have people trying to barge into a flower shop. Trust me, Sir, I sleep well knowing no one wants to rob me.” Attempting a light joke, the stranger's chest jerks in a silky laugh. The tips of your ears heat, the blood under your skin rushing.

His laugh was like a blanket during a storm; a cup of hot chocolate during a blizzard. Could you be attracted to a laugh? You seemed to ask yourself. Already your mind was coming up blank at this, all of a sudden, welcome intrusion.

“Well, I’d imagine that’s a good thing, then?” He teases showing off pearly white teeth.

“Incredibly.” Opening the door wider, you beam. “You’re lucky I was still here. I’d normally be all locked up by now.”

You should be closing – telling this stranger to leave and come back tomorrow – but something inside of you told you to just open the door. It was illogical, unprofessional, and downright strenuous on your already foul mood…but this individual had such an air to him that you wondered who exactly he was. He made your skin pule with goosebumps.

“Thanks,” the man utters as he slips inside, nodding his head to you and fixing the position of his hat with one hand. “Yeah…I’m incredibly sorry about this but I’m runnin’ on a bit of a time crunch, to be honest with you. I’ve been checking every shop in town – you’re the only one with the lights still on…” He looks to you, “I really hope I’m not causing any trouble for you, Ma’am.”

Slipping your fingers into your work apron’s pockets, you let the door shut and tilt your head to the side, gaze softening at the pure candor of his words.

“Emergency flower orders are always my favorites to work on. It’s no problem, really.” You say your name as an introduction and ask what he would like to purchase as he scratches at the back of his neck with a boyish twist to his lips.

“Kyle Garrick.” He sticks out his hand and you shake it instantly. Kyle’s hands are warm despite the cold weather outside, and you have to stop yourself from melting into him as you pull back. But already your skin tingles. “Actually, I was wondering if you might be able to help me on that front. What flowers would be the best for an apology?…just not something too flashy, if that’s possible.”

He trails with an awkward chuff, obviously not used to being in a flower shop before. You wondered if he even had a favorite flower. You hoped he did.

You could really tell a lot about someone based on the types of flora they surrounded themselves with.

“Apology?” You wonder, tilting your head. Quickly falling into work mode, you continue, “I can work with that. Do you have any preferences? Colors?”

“Well, she likes orange, yeah?” He speaks and your heart sputters for a moment. Smile freezing. “I don’t suppose that’ll help very much, but it’s really all I have to go off of. I’m a bit of a hopeless bastard when it comes to flowers.” Kyle lets off a huff of laughter.

She. Of course, he’s already in a relationship.

Nodding, you swiftly walk past the man, catching the scent of fresh-tilled earth and rainy grass as your shoulders nearly brush. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed. It wasn’t every day you found yourself attracted to someone. But, oh well, life continues on.

“Well,” heading towards the wall baskets, your body feels heavy, but you quickly force it to the side. You really shouldn’t be surprised. “You said orange? I have about seven you can pick from.”

“Affirmiti–erm, yes, Ma’am.”

“Hm.” You hear him come up behind you, following at a respectful distance. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you watch as his eyes slide over the various types of flowers, all separated by color, with deep thought.

A slight furrow was in his dark brow. His dedication was adorable.

“What’s this one called?” Kyle asks, moving around you to a bushel of orange poppies and accidentally bumping into your side.

Grunting, you lightly jerk forward until a hand swiftly grabs your shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering, you look up with shock at the embarrassed face slightly leaning over you.

“Shit, I’m sorry. That’s my bad.”

“N-no, you’re fine.” God, this was so awkward. Smiling shakily, you feel the press of his hand over your skin, separated only by the thin barrier of your shirt. Kyle squeezes your flesh before letting go.

He was staring at you, though. Brown eyes set into dark skin with a soft expression like Pygmalion staring at his marble-wrought Galatea. But as quickly as it was there, the look was gone and the man was clearing his throat, snapping his neck back to the basket and shifting his feet.

Even if you couldn’t explicitly see it, you knew he was blushing – just the same as the heat in your capillaries mirrored. Swallowing to get rid of the dryness of your throat, you realize you’ve been gawking before sliding your hands into your pockets and quickly looking away.

Why won’t my heart stop beating so fast?

“Those are Orange Poppies. Papaver orientale.” Speaking, you reach forward and grab the stem of a single bloom holding it to him as he gazes down at you from your side. “Common in ‘get well soon’ bouquets, if you were curious.”

Holding it up to him, you watch his fingers delicately pluck it from you like the flower was made of glass. It nearly made you laugh, but you settled on a small smile instead.

“It’s pretty…” Kyle pauses, and you read it well enough.

“...But not what you were looking for.” Settling on the answer, you giggle when he passes off a sheepish smile and a nod. “I kind of guessed. Here – how about this.”

He ends up buying a handful of orange Tulips, Myrtle leaf for greenery, and a small gathering of Baby’s-Breath. Behind the counter, you try to stay focused on setting the flora perfectly in the clear vase as your clippers lay beside it. Frowning, you take the long stem of a Tulip and snip the end at an angle, placing it to the far left of the rest with a concentrated set of your eyebrows.

“So,” Kyle says, breaking the silence, and your fingers twitch as your spell is shattered. Soul stilling, you look up at him as he waits on the other side of the counter with his arms comfortably crossed. He leans back on his heels, feet shoulder-length apart. “Busy day today, then? Other places around here are mostly dark by five.”

Standing straighter, you politely smile before going back to the arrangement, hand reaching for the small white tufts of Baby’s-Breath.

“Mostly, yeah.” You cock your head to the side, “I was supposed to be home two hours ago, but one lady was very adamant about getting the most ‘perfect’ flowers, as she told it.”

Chuckling humorlessly, you step back and stare at the vase, not aware of the eyes stuck on the tired slump of your shoulders or the slight frown staining the man’s lips.

“Two hours? Well, that’s a bit excessive.” Kyle remarks, eyelids creasing, “I’d hope she at least left a tip for you?”

That gets a laugh out of you, lungs jerking for a moment; focus once more brought back to the present at the preposterous words that just left your customer’s mouth. Those brown eyes suck you back in to a point where you wonder if you’d ever be able to look away.

“Now that’s funny, Mr. Garrick.”

He lets the subject drop, but you notice a slight crease in-between in brows – a narrowness to his eyes that wasn't there before. You try not to think too much into it, but Kyle certainly did seem like the man to get upset when people aren’t treated respectfully. The thought warms your heart.

Or maybe I’m just reading too much into this.

“Is there anything you’d like me to rearrange, Sir…? Do you want a note to go with it?” Seemingly lost in thought, Kyle comes back to you with a diligent shake of his head.

“It looks perfect, Love. And, please, just Kyle’s alright. You’re makin’ me sound like an old man when you talk like that.” He chuckles, and it’s a rich, velvety sort of thing – twisted with blue satin and wrapped in a gentle breeze. Your stomach twists.

“Then I suppose that’s it, then. I’ll get you the bill and you can be on your way.” Turning around to calculate the total price, you make a quick comment in passing, not really thinking about it as you tap on your calculator. “I hope your girlfriend and you make up.”

A stunned silence falls, but you only focus on the numbers, jotting down the total on a sticky note and turning around after re-running the costs a last time. When your eyes lock with him, your feet stall at the dumbfounded look on Kyle’s face and the confusion ingrained in his body language. His head had pulled back slightly, hat tilted.

“What’s that?” He asks.

“Your…girlfriend?” You say slowly, walking closer and passing him the sticky note, “you said you were getting her apology flowers?”

The handsome man blinks at you before realization lights in his eyes like fire. Kyle laughs deeply, putting a hand on top of his head and pressing down on his cap.

“Oh, Bloody hell, no.” He takes a deep breath and you feel your lips pressed together in confusion, innocent intrigue taking place in your skull. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I should have told you right off. This is for my mum.”

Blinking in surprise you pause, looking up with wide eyes.

Sweetheart?...Mum?! Your face heats to an intense level. Oh.

“O-oh I didn’t…” He’s reaching for his wallet with a large lop-sided smile on his face and understanding eyes, watching you as he flips it open. You settle with a single laugh and say, “sorry, I guess I just assumed.”

But you can’t help the sudden relief that sprouted out of nowhere that leaves your lips pulling back in a mirrored grin. You’d been doing that a lot, as of the last fifteen minutes.

“It’s no problem,” Kyle admits, “Thing is, I’ve been off on deployment for a while, and I missed my return date party, unfortunately. Just got back about noon today and I decided I was going to surprise her tonight.” The man pulls out a large stack of bills, “Thought she’d like that, yeah? Can’t go wrong with flowers, can you?”

“You’re in the military?” You ask smoothly but internally swoon at the thought of a son giving his mother flowers out of the kindness of his heart. Whoever she was, you know the woman who raised this man would be overjoyed with the prospect of simply having him home safe and sound before anything else.

Did not Penelope, wife of Odysseus, care for her son Telemachus more than anything? Above danger and possible death? They protected each other. You supposed it was the same in this situation.

Being able to be a part of it made your legs weak.

“Something like that, Ma’am.” Kyle’s lips flick into a smirk as he hands you the bills. “Feels like I’m surrounded by children most days, but there’s no place I’d rather be…When I’m not nearly getting my head bloody blown off, that is.”

You huff in amusement, and slight concern, taking the payment and settling it on the counter without checking the numbers; never doubting whether he gave you the right amount or not.

“Well, it seems like you’ve got it all figured out.” Garrick looks to his feet for a moment, pocketing his wallet, and clears his throat near mutely. He tilts his head back up to you.

“Nearly,” he whispers under his breath, a delicate wrinkle on his forehead as his lips pull in a minute, closed, grin. Sheepishly, you look away from his intense brown gaze before you can make a fool of yourself as giddiness sparks in your racing heart. What was happening to you? You have to ask yourself. Where was all of this blatant scatterbrained activity stemming from? No one had ever made you act like this before.

As you look away, your eyes unintentionally land on the wall clock across the room, and your thoughts still like water in a puddle. Eyes widening comedically, you feel your lips part.

“I really need to be closing up.” You say apologetically, looking back to the man who touches one of the Myrtle leaves carefully, running it between his thumb and forefinger. Under you, your feet shift over the floor. “Is this all you’ll be needing?”

“Pretty sure.” Garrick answers easily, “I won't keep you any longer, eh? I’d hate it if I made you go home by yourself after dark.”

“That’s very thoughtful, Kyle, thank you.” Pushing the vase over the counter, he takes it up and pauses as if he wants to say something. His mouth opens before closing – looking at his feet for a moment and itching at his neck with his free hand.

“I…don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Ma’am,” your breath hollows, watching carefully as you listen. “But, uh, I,” Kyle shifts his eyes to your face, standing a bit straighter as the corner of his lip flicks up, “You’re just about the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met – if that’s not overstepping, of course.”

He laughs stiffly to dispel tension, and the air suddenly gets ten times hotter at the brutally honest, if not mildly stuttered, confession. You can nearly hear the blood rushing to your head like a flood of ocean water – more violent and immediate than a tsunami. In your ribcage, your bones ache at the beating organ and the swell of your lungs. Having to take a deep breath to not forget yourself entirely, your mind rages.

Did he really just say that? He…he called me beautiful.

When was the last time you had been called that? By such a lovely and kind man nonetheless. Kyle seemed like a confident person, his profession telling you that already, but the way he was acting now he seemed hesitant; like he was appalled by the fact you would take what he was saying the wrong way and come off creepy.

But that was so blatantly opposite of how you were reacting.

“I-” You stutter, eyes snapping away and hands coming to hold themselves in front of your abdomen, “well, I think you’re very handsome, yourself, Kyle.” A meek expression spreads your visage as you see the breath in his chest hitch, “and I wouldn’t call that overstepping at all. Not by a long shot.”

His eyes widen, and a second of intense eye contact later, he smiles and glances away. Garrick sneaks looks as you bite your lip, and finally, he nods firmly before his phone starts to ring in his pocket.

As if a switch had turned, his hand snaps down and grasps the device, peeling it out of his khakis and checking the contact. Immediately he utters.

“Oh, Shit, this is her. I’ve got to run.” He walks backward a few steps before turning and lightly jogging to the front door. Following with your eyes, you’re somewhat entranced by the man.

Before he can walk through the door, he stops in his tracks.

“Sorry, again,” Kyle turns back around, and his dark eyebrows crease, “but, uh, what days are you open?”

The giddy smile that forms on your cheeks leaves your skin hurting.

“All of ‘em except the weekends,” you say, confidence suddenly sprouting in your veins, “but I’m sure if you told me ahead of time that you were stopping by, I’d make an exception.”

“I’d imagine for emergency flowers only?” Kyle teases, a smirk on his face. His eyes promise you, though, that this will not be the last time you see him.

“Of course.” You reply, raising a brow. “I’m a florist, after all, Garrick. Emergency flowers are my specialty. If you’re ever in need of more, I’ll be here, waiting.”

He laughs, stares for a few seconds longer with a distant sheen, and disappears through the door. You don’t follow when his form fades from the windows entirely. You don’t ask for his number, even if you knew you should have. You don’t look at the amount he gave you as you put it in the register, knowing, even by your intuition, that it is double the amount he was due.

You’d just tell him all about it when you saw him again.

Until Kyle Garrick showed up you had been focused; as immovable as a mountain, but then as the days drew on, you faltered. Your eyes would linger on the glass as people pass by, heart in your throat and feet tapping as you bound stems. Flowers had taken up so much of your life, but now another was trying to push its way in – slowly infecting you like a parasite in your mind as the days went on.

And as he kept showing up, month after month, he had taken to calling you Persephone. A goddess of spring and nature; beautiful flowers of all colors and shapes growing on hills and in vibrant meadows. It was perhaps the greatest compliment someone like you could have been given. At first, it had been a nickname until it had become as common as your actual title, and Kyle used it so much even regular customers teased you with it with smirks and side-eyes. You only rolled your optics with a burning under your skin and a small smile.

“Well, look, it’s Persephone…”

“That boy of yours here, Persephone? Hiding in the back room perhaps?”

“Persephone – you have any Peonies this week?”

You didn’t mind it…really, you didn’t. If anything, you thought it was precious. A man comparing you to a goddess that danced in green fields as flowers sprouted at her feet? Yes, that was quite alright.

Quite alright, indeed.

—

The office room was cold, he thought. Nearly a meat locker.

How in the hell can he stand to work in here, Kyle asked himself. Bloody place is like a damn winter storm just minus the snow.

He was seated in one of the two chairs in front of the mahogany desk, hands on the armrests and feet tapping the floor. When the Sergeant had gotten the order on his radio to come to Captain Price’s office ASAP, he had expected the man to already be here, but five minutes later he was still sitting in silence.

That wasn’t to say he was bored, though. He was thinking of you. He could never be bored when he did that.

It brings a small smile to Garrick’s face as he relives your last interaction, lips unconsciously twitching as his eyes grow distant.

You’d made him a flower crown, mostly as a joke, but had been left in raging fits of laughter when you’d placed it on his head.

“Hold still,” you grunt, sitting on the front counter and keeping the weaved headpiece in your grip as it hovers above the man’s scalp, “I want to get it centered on the first go.”

“Y’know,” Kyle chuffs, “I could always do it myself – I do have working hands, Love.”

“Shush!” Exclaiming, your breath fans his face, leaving him more still than a statue, if only to smell your scent and be content with your body so close to his. Kyle was still working out the best way to ask you out officially, but that didn’t seem to extend to his instinctual actions when it came to you. It was increasingly hard to stop his head from leaning just that tiniest bit forward and connecting his lips to yours.

The pressure on his head brings him back, and his eyes blink as if they could force all the rogue thoughts from his mind. Kyle clears his throat when you lean back, acutely aware of the longing set of his dark brows as he had stared off at you.

“Well, then,” The Sergeant clears his throat and smiles at your concentrated face, though he notices the hitch in your chest with a strange sense of pride. “How’s it lookin'? Is just as you imagined, eh?”

Your face scrunches, head tilting. Kyle couldn’t remember a time he’d let someone put a wreath of flowers on his head, woven with Forget-Me-Nots, Silver Dollar Eucalyptus, and Tiger Lillies. The others would make fun of him for this.

But he found he cared little. If you kept smiling at him like that, he’d let you do anything to him in a heartbeat.

“Perfect.” You chuckle. “You should have let me do this earlier.”

The shop was closed – it was a weekend, after all, and that was the time for restocking and number crunching. Not really the time for making crowns for a man who was totally smitten with you.

“You sure that you don’t need these?” Kyle asks, a hand reaching up to his head to touch the flora. “I’d hate to not pay you for them, Love. Can only imagine how expensive they are to order.”

“Eh,” rolling your eyes, your legs brush the Sergeant’s hips from where they sit around them, and the man has to remember how to breathe properly, “they’re the old product, anyway. I’d have to get rid of them by Monday. Better for such a handsome individual to have a crown of his own, with all the gallantry he practices in his job. It’s the least I could do, hm?”

You’re teasing him, a smirk taking up the frame of Kyle’s vision. He returns the action, hands coming to rest on either side of your hips; leaning forward until his nose with mere inches away. He hears your chest rattle with a slow breath.

“Are you teasin’ me, Persephone?” He asks sneakily, as you begin to giggle. “Insinuating I need a flower crown to be recognized at work? It’ll certainly get me attention, that’s for sure, yeah? Just not the kind I want. Soap’ll have a field day.”

“He’d just make a few comments, I’m sure.”

“You’ve never met him. The bloke would never let it go until the day I kicked the bucket.” You’re laughing, one hand coming up to cover your mouth.

Kyle hates himself at that moment because you’ve never looked so beautiful, and he can’t quite pick up the courage to just lean in. So he watches with a matching look of happiness and an embarrassing, yet adored, flower crown on top of his close-shaven head. He watches with an ache in his chest and a violent beat to his heart as your body heat melts into him; urging him, prompting him.

But he just smiles and watches a moment longer before taking a step back.

“Sir,” Garrick asks, settling back down and watching the older man slink behind his desk, “What’s all this about?”

The door opens with a firm hand. Kyle startles to his feet, tuning and about to go into an instinctual formal greeting before the Captain speaks, beating him to it.

“At ease, Sergeant. Take a seat.”

Price sighs as he takes a seat, slapping a large file that was previously in his hand to the wood before opening his drawer with a grunt. Gaz watches with narrowed eyes as his superior ignores his question, pulling out a large cigar from a lockbox and slotting it between his lips. A lighter follows soon after, and soon the smell of burning tobacco enters the air.

“...Captain?” Kyle was starting to get nervous now. Why was he looking at him like that? Blue eyes seem to dig deep into Gaz’s soul, trying to find something that was hidden behind layers and layers of flesh and bone.

John pulls the stick from his lips and holds it between his fingers, smoke now entering the air and rising to perforate like mist. Feet shifting over the floor, Kyle’s heart skips a beat.

What in the hell is going on?

That’s when the bearded man speaks.

“Well, who are they, then?” Price asks, tilting his head forward as his bucket hat sits where it usually does atop his brown hair. The Captain’s eyes are squinted; curious but still laced with that authority that never seemed to leave no matter how many years the two had known each other.

“Pardon, Sir?” Gaz has to ask, confusion prominent in his expression. “They?”

John raises a thick brow as if the answer was obvious.

“You’re distracted. Been checking your phone like it’s going to explode the last few days. So,” the Captain stares at him heavily, taking another drag before placing the cigar in his ashtray and breathing out a cloud of smoke. He leans forward and places his hands on the table, as Kyle watches, perplexed, “who is it, Sergeant? No use hiding it.”

“I…” Gaz trails before blinking dumbly, lips parting, “oh, hell, was it that obvious?”

“Painfully.” The answer makes the younger man cringe and his skin pulls tight. A pause leaves the room silent, the Sergeant avoiding his Captain’s gaze as he tilts his head away for a moment. He clears his throat.

“She’s just…” Kyle clears his throat, “someone I met in the city. A florist. Down on Main Ave.”

“A florist, eh?” Grunting, John nods his head to himself. “Asked the bird out, then?”

“What?” Snapping his head up, Gaz says loudly with stuttering lips, “N-no, Sir. Not yet.”

The man ahead of him hums, leaning back and flipping his file open, taking a moment to pick up the first page and skim the contents with small eyes. He looks over the top with a blank expression.

“I’d get on that, Son.”

—

Today was different, you knew. Something was going to happen. An unexplainable feeling was in the back of your mind, making you somewhat anxious even if you didn’t know exactly why. It was like a sheet had been thrown over your head and someone had just told you to run in circles without hitting a wall; feet tied with a rope.

The morning had started off normal, as had everything else that followed, but there was an air of expectation wafting in front of you.

What’s going on? You ask as you wipe down the counter with a wet rag, swiping stray leaves and petals into the garbage bin at your feet. Why am I feeling like I’m expecting something to happen?

It was Tuesday – nothing astounding ever happens on Tuesdays.

The front door opens with the ringing of a silver bell, and you say absentmindedly, still caught in your thoughts, “be with you in a moment!”

A cough startles you, your hand squeezing the rag a bit tighter as your neck twists upwards.

“Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Kyle,” you laugh and take a breath, “I didn’t expect you today…”

Freezing, your lips part in a silent gasp when you see it. The man you had come to have quite the crush on was standing a few paces from the door, dressed in a nice shirt and dress pants, jacket in the crook of his arm. He holds a single Sunflower in his grasp.

It wasn’t anything overly impressive, a bit small and dead at the tips, but nonetheless, your heart stuttered at the gift. Staring at it silently, you turn your gaze to Kyle as his feet shift over the floor nervously. A strange look had overtaken his face, but he had a confident air to him that you’d been seeing more and more of the last few visits.

“What’s this?” You ask carefully, body going hot all over and lungs swelling.

You’d loved flowers for most of your life; worshiped them like the people of Delphi worshiped their god-chosen Oracle. But never could you recall a moment when you had been given any out of free will. Everyone always assumed you disliked getting them because of your job, but, oh, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Flowers were like declarations of emotions – they could mean so many things to so many different people. They were the truth laid bare in nature as plainly as it could be, wrought with promises.

Your breath stills, eyelids pulling back delicately; lips parting.

Kyle speaks softly, raising the flower in his grip.

“I remembered you saying you liked these more than roses – you called them ‘tacky’ if I’m…remembering correctly. The roses, that is.”

He was remembering correctly. But that had been just a passing comment to another customer you had been helping before him. Unimportant. A quick piece of yourself that hadn’t mattered while you were cutting stems and looping twine.

But he remembered it.

A giggle falls from you until your hand snaps up, trapping it behind parted fingers and an awe-filled face.

“I wanted to give it to you,” he continued, walking forward with measured steps, “and ask you a question, if you’d let me.”

“Of course, I would.” It’s breathless, the way you say it, and suddenly you know exactly why you've been so on edge today.

You’d been waiting for him.

And when he smiles at you, your mind runs to gossamer silk. Such a delicate thing; that smile, comparable to the millions of strands a spider spins in a lifetime. Gorgeous and so very easily missed if you weren’t looking at just the right moment. Gossamer Silk.

Since when has his grin become so important to you? To where you craved it just as violently as water or food? That look in his amber gaze – the one that left you breathless even when you simply thought about it, that was what you wanted to witness when you woke up in the mornings. You wanted his arms around you. You wanted his lips pressed to yours. You wanted him to be in your kitchen making you dinner as the rain fell outside and the flowers in your back garden grew strong and beautiful.

You wanted him to be yours.

Kyle stops behind the counter and hands you the flower. You reach for it without complaint instantaneously, wondering momentarily if he had just happened upon one and taken it in a moment of passion. Both of your fingers brush, and the imaginary sparks that fly make you turn slightly shy, head tilting to the side for a moment.

But a finger hooks under your chin, moving it back as delicately as bird wings, gentle feathers tickling your flesh and nerves.

A hum resonates in your chest, eyes crinkling as you stare into amber brown with flecks of gold. You could get lost in them if you looked too much.

But you didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“Persephone, would you do me the great honor,” the two of you laugh at the wispy and teasing tone, and suddenly you wish the counter between you would disappear into thin air, “of going on a date with me tonight?”

Tuesdays, perhaps, might have just become the best day of the week, and a small Sunflower with dead tips and fading yellow, your new favorite flower.

Ironic, how that works. He ended up distracting you more than you could ever imagine.

—

“Don’t you have to be back on base soon, Garrick?” You mutter into a warm chest, street lights shining into the windows of the apartment.

“Bloody hell, yes…But I’d crawl back to you, if you asked it of me.”

TAGLIST SIGN-UP || Here

TAGS:

@blueoorchid , @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210 , @antigonusyuki , @aerangi , @spikespiegell , @lora21 , @330bpm-whiplash , @michirulol, @john-pricee , @cl0wncxre , @jade-jax , @anna-banana27 , @lothiriel9 , @halfmoth-halfman , @ghost-with-a-teacup , @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @bespectacledhuman, @uberraschungg , @neelehksttr, @wolfyland07 , @shoe1412 , @levietc , @shmaptin, @dilfsaremyfavourite , @astronaut2029, @kk19pls , @omeganixtra , @semieitabby , @thriving-n-jiving , @voidinfernal , @sukunas-left-nut-sack , @cringe-kats , @serpahic , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @n1choles , @gaychaosgremlin , @icepancakes , @batmanunicorns523 , @gills-lounge, @nanialis, @pukbadger , @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet

(sorry that some of these don't work! I have no idea why!)

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tojiphile · 1 year

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summary. suguru geto wants you, desperately. so much so that he's conjuring up reminders that he's still on your mind. | one-sided suguru geto x reader

cw/ tw. fem!reader, roommates, light gojo x reader, panties sniffing, nudes received by an unintended person, for 18+ readers

suguru geto hates to admit it, but he's a fucking pervert. to the world, suguru geto is impressive—one of the best jujutsu sorcerers of the modern era. to you, his roommate, he’s all that, and also a funny, smart and kind guy, who’s best friend you happened to take an interest in.

suguru can’t act like he doesn’t know how you change when satoru is around. when satoru comes over, you change into tighter, skimpier dresses, leaning over just enough to give satoru a glimpse of your cleavage (he’d lower his sunglasses to get a better view). satoru isn’t oblivious, and during movie nights found excuses to slip an arm around your waist or place a lingering hand on your bare thigh.

suguru hates it. you, his kind, beautiful and wonderful roommate, falling for his best friend’s charms. of all people, why did you have to go after satoru? of all people, why couldn’t you have gone after suguru instead? he doesn’t understand.

suguru does everything for you. he cooks, he cleans, he even does your goddamn laundry. so when an instax photo of you happens to fall out of your pocket, suguru doesn’t bat an eye before deciding to keep it. it’s a photo of you, in flimsy lingerie that didn’t cover any part of your breasts, exposing your perky nipples. you wore a bunny ear headband, using one hand to toy with it. leaning forward and spreading your thighs slightly, you were acting so coy. “to S. G.” it read. suguru knew it was most probably your latest attempt at seducing satoru, but he wanted more to believe that you meant for him to find it.

yes, you felt bad that you were paying satoru so much more attention that you wanted to give suguru a little something. if not, why would you leave it in your pocket? you knew suguru did your laundry. yes, you wanted him to find it. you wanted him. suguru. suguru only.

suguru has his own head spinning, but his blood is unmistakably rushing downwards. he tugs on the waistband of his sweats and lets his thick cock spring free, already rock hard, leaking at the tip. he grips it loosely, tending to it with languid strokes as he admires your instax photo. you look so, so gorgeous. almost bare, you look like a bunny, ready to be devoured.

he takes a breather, stopping himself before he came on the spot and notices, in your laundry basket, a pair of your cute pastel pink panties. he grabs it roughly, bringing it close to his face and taking a whiff of your scent. your raw, unfiltered self, straight from your core. immediately, he’s obsessed. he brings your panties to his cock and starts rubbing them, trying to mingle your scents together.

suguru groans out loud as he takes another glance at the instax photo, pumping himself faster as he imagines what he’d do if you’d just let him. his eyes squeeze shut, thinking of fantasy scenarios all involving you. he knows that you’ve not only let satoru fuck you, you’ve invited an endless list of men in too. suguru knows, he’s only one room over. each time as he cracks your door open just to watch, he thinks, when is it my turn?

if you’d let him, suguru would be on his knees, hands spreading your thighs apart and lapping at your sopping cunt like a starving man. when the pleasure is too much for you, he’d hold you steady if you tried to squirm out. “let me take care of you,” he’d whisper, looking up at you with those puppy dog eyes, pleading for you to let him keep going. when you nod, he’s back, slipping his tongue into you, using a thumb to rub little circles around your clit.

or, if you’d let him, suguru would press you up against the window, bare breasts making your nipples harden against the cool glass. he would fuck you from the back, gripping you by the waist to pull him out before slamming himself balls deep back in. he wants the whole world to see that it’s him fucking you. not a stranger, not gojo, him. “tell me who you fucking belong to,” suguru would growl as you mewled, brain struggling to work. you didn’t respond and suguru retorted with a heavy handed spank, causing red to bloom where he’d hit you. “answer me, whore.”

god, he wants you so bad. he strokes himself faster, panties in hand, bringing himself to the edge of ecstasy. his mind is filled with nothing but images of you, you, you, you, you, you-

“suguru? what are you doing?”

suguru’s eyes snap open. standing by the door, oh god, you.

#tojiphile #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #suguru geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto #satoru gojo #geto smut #gojo smut #smut blog #jjk smut

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slutforgarlogan · 7 months

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Needy | Peter Maximoff x F!Reader

Summary: Based off this request. you're trying to do your homework but Peters being needy

Warnings: Oral (m!recieving), orgasm denial, peters a whiny pathetic man (i think thats it?)

A/N: this is a tad rushed i am so tired i went to bed at 4am and im running on a bottle of cough syrup (im ill), 2 large pizzas, a cookie and a can of fanta. Also decided to get mean on him at the end and deeping it i could never

You are sat at your desk in your room, working on your college homework, scared of falling behind. You've finally managed to get into the groove of things, understanding what the homework actually is, leaning on your desk a bit to concentrate.

And thats when you hear your bedroom window open. You roll your eyes, already knowing who it is, he's the only person who ever comes in through your window despite the fact you've told him countless times he is allowed to just use the door. You swivel around in your chair, facing the silver haired boy. "What"

He quirks an eyebrow, sounding amused "Lovely to see you too babe"

A small smile breaks on your face as you look at your idiot boyfriend, and take on a much lighter and playful tone than before. "What do you want Peter"

He gives you a look, a look that you know all too well and you roll your eyes once again. "I'm doing work Quickie, you can wait," you turn back round in your chair, going back to your homework.

He groans loudly and flops onto your bed in a starfish pose, ever the dramatic. You chuckle a little and speak to him, not turning round. "I've got cake snacks in the drawer on my bedside table, just eat those and shut up" You always kept the drawer on your bedside table full of twinkies. Because Peter was always in your room, and he liked them. You hear him open the drawer, and you smile, finally being able to work.

Though it didn't last long, not only did he devour the entire contents of the drawer, but he had now decided to go for a different route to get your attention, since groaning and whining like a toddler didnt play out in his favour. He was off your bed and stood to your side in a silver blur. Now leaning forward slightly and rocking back and fourth on his heels impatiently, with his hands holding each other behind his back.

"watcha doin"

"work"

"what work"

You just need him to shut up for 20 minutes.

"college work"

He doesnt say anything for a second, still rocking around on his heels next to you, heaven forbid he stay still and quiet.

"can i have a kiss" your lips curl up into a small smile, rolling your eyes lovingly. You turn your chair slightly to face him, pulling him down and giving him a short but sweet kiss. You can still taste the cake snacks on him.

When you pull away to go back to your work, Peter decides to lean down behind you and kiss your neck, sucking on it and leaving little marks. Your breath hitches, which doesnt go unnoticed by him, but you keep your composure, trying to ignore it and do your work.

He wraps his arms round you from behind where your sat, and he teases his fingers at your waistband. "Quickie i swear to god"

He pouts a little "please"

You roll your eyes, groaning and turning around in your seat, hands moving to his trousers to unbuckle his belt. He keeps his eyes trained on you now, pupils blown wide and eyes pleading.

You unbutton his trousers and pull them down to pool at his ankles. He steps out of them and you swap places, he's now sat in your desk chair, and you're in front of it, knelt down on the floor with his dick in your hand.

You bring your thumb to his tip, running your hand over the slit and spreading his precum around the head of his cock. He whimpers, bucking up into your hand "Please"

You pump his dick a couple of times, before leaning down to take the tip in your mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop and eliciting a string of moans and whines from the boy beneath you.

You take him fully in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head, as your hands work at the base and you look up at him through your lashes, relishing in how needy he is.

He involuntarily thrusts his hips up, pathetically whining and moaning, even more turned on by the eye contact you're making with him.

When you feel his dick start to twitch in your mouth, you pull off him. He whines loudly at the loss of contact, searching your eyes desperately. "no no no please"

"you can finish when i finish my work"

#evan peters #evan peters smut #peter maximoff smut #american horror story #quicksilver smut #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #rileys requests

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wheelie-hurting · 10 months

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@mundymae gave some great tips on this post about showering while physically disabled, here are some that i can think of rn! (some might be on the other list but i’m too lazy to double check lmao)

1. grab bars!!! great for ppl with balance issues and ppl who easily faint

2. low water temp, hot showers (especially with the door closed) can make u feel faint and also relaxes ur body, making it easier to dislocate/sublux shit

3. shower chair/shower table/changing table, shower chairs are great for ppl with chronic pain, ppl who can’t stand for a long time, ppl who faint easily etc. shower tables / changing tables are rarely mentioned, but are great for ppl who are severely mobility impaired who can’t use regular shower chairs/stools. there are also shower tables that function as bathtubs, which sadly is a luxury many times when u are severely disabled.

4. hand held shower heads, they are easier to use especially while sitting down, so u can make sure u clean yourself as much as possible. personal hygiene is difficult with the other ones that u can’t hold in ur hand, bc u can’t easily clean ur genitals and shit like that.

5. bring something cold to drink, water or those liquid iv’s or sport drinks, those can be very useful especially if u have hot water.

6. anti slip mats, these are great in showers AND bathtubs. what they’re for is pretty obvious based on its name, but when u are physically disabled (and these are great for ppl who aren’t as well) it is EASY to slip when loosing ur balance, when ur light headed or feel faint.

7. if it is possible for you i recommend those things/barriers on the floor that keep water from going everywhere, bc again, it is very easy to slip when getting out of the shower.

8. keep your phone close if you live alone or are alone when showering, and if possible, do not lock the bathroom door. if you have an emergency it is super important to be able to get help quickly and easily. if you live alone, it can be good to give a friend or family member your house/apartment key so they can help you. this has saved me many times after falling in general and not being able to get up by myself.

9. keep your mobility aids and disability aids close so you can use them after showering, if you use braces or compression socks it can be good to get to them quickly.

10. something i like to do is getting clean underwear and clothes out before showering so i can get dressed easily without having to dig out a bunch of clothes after showering when i’m exhausted.

11. sponges, sponges, sponges!!! especially on sticks. they are amazing when u can’t reach everywhere yourself.

12. if you are exhausted or in pain or whatever but really need to shower, only clean the most crucial areas. arm pits, skin folds, genitals, ass, where ever shit gets nasty. do not waste your energy on areas that aren’t absolutely necessary.

13. a tip for fellow fat disabled ppl, i mentioned it above but make sure to clean ur skin folds AND dry them properly after. if needed, powder or use creams. skin folds can easily get nasty with fungal infections and it hurts, it smells, and it’s not pleasant. areas to look out for: arm pits, under breasts, under stomach, groin and between toes.

14. keep everything u use to clean urself close, shampoo, conditioner, soap and whatever else u use. i have everything on a shelf right in front of me, i do not need to bend over or stretch to reach anything.

15. if your bathroom has a window it can be nice to open it to get some fresh air in there, otherwise i find that keeping the bathroom door open works fine too.

#cripple punk #crip punk #cripplepunk #physical disability #physically disabled #c punk #cpunk

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borathae · 1 year

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“The sun is kissing the old day goodbye and yet you and and your lover are very far from letting the day end. Drunk from witches’ wine, heated up from a beach walk and with eyes only for each other, you allow your bodies to connect in the most pleasurable of ways.”

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Smut, established relationship!AU

Warnings: devoted service sub!Yoongi, soft Dom!Reader, (love)drunk sex, love making, they are both giddy and so in love, lotsa kissing, he is such a Good Boy in this!, he kneels for her, body worship, oral (f. & m.receiving), rimjob (f.receiving), he fucks her pussy with his monster tongue, vaginal fingering, he touches her hole without slipping in, edging & orgasm control (f.receiving), multiple orgasms for both, hair pulling (m.receiving), he has sensitive nipples, she rides him Cowgirl and in Lotus, he wants to hold hands and hug!, eye contact, i will fucking break, loving dirty talk, praise, a digusting amount of “i love you”s are exchanged, possessive talk, it’s the trope of “i never liked sex but with you i can’t stop wanting it, so please hold me close. i need you”, i’m gonna throw up they are so in love!!

Wordcount: 14k

a/n: this is the night of this chapter from MV :( i literally!!! i love them so much :(( i don’t think i will ever love a couple as much as i love them :(

The door slams closed.

“Yoongi”, you gasp.

“Sorry, I used too much strength”, he apologises, chasing your kiss with puckered lips, “kiss me.”

“God”, you stumble and giggle, “we probably woke the entire house.”

“So? It’s morning already either way”, he dismisses you and chases you to the bed with you in his arms, “kiss me, please.”

Your arms hook behind his head again, your fingers tangle in his soft hair.

“You’re so greedy.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Kiss me.”

You chuckle, twisting his hair gently, “come and get it, lovebug.”

He kisses you instantly, making both of you stumble. He moans and cradles you against him with his fingers twisting your shirt. You giggle, leaning into him gladly.

The walk back from the beach took way too long. You just couldn’t stop kissing each other. You did so on the gravel path to the beach. Did so in the garden surrounded by lavender and rose beds. You did so with Yoongi’s back pressed against the window of the kitchen door. Did so with you sitting on the stone railing of the stairs while Yoongi was keeping you safe. And Yoongi tried to do it against your bedroom door, but you pulled him inside before that could happen.

Which takes us to this current moment. Lost in a kiss once more, you fall onto the bed after Yoongi pushed you against the mattress and forced your knees to bend.

The kiss breaks because your noses crushed together.

“Ouchies, my nose”, you whine.

“I’m sorry”, Yoongi says and kisses the tip of it, “so sorry”, he says and then he opens his mouth to take your nose inside.

“Yoongi, what are you doing?” you laugh, shaking your head to get free of your nose prison.

“I was healing you”, he says, pouting.

“You were being weird, that’s what you were doing”, you tease and rub your nose. He frowns. You giggle, “you’re cute, my love.”

His frown drops, sparkly eyes replace it.

“My love”, he says, “my love, I want to make you feel good.”

“You already do.”

“Better than that.”

“Okay? What are you thinking of?”

“Can I show you? I suck at words.”

“Of course, my love.”

“I think you’re the most beautiful person”, he whispers and lowers his lips to your neck. He nudges your head to tilt it up with his nose and then claims the emptiness by kissing every inch of you.

“Well, I think….you’re the most…beautiful”, you sigh the words, struggling with them because he makes it hard to talk. His touch is like heaven, his kisses paradise. He has reached your collarbones by now, kissing them gently as his fingers play with the hem of your jumper.

“Can I take it off?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He tugs it off, doing it with such vigour that your nose gets caught in it. He bends it into an unnatural position, earning himself a loud “aah!” from you.

“Sorry.”

The sweater hits the floor. He is sitting on your lap, you are staring up at him with a pulsating nose. His eyes are widened cutely, his pouty lips parted.

“Sorry. Does it hurt lots?” he asks and goes to rub his fingers against your nose. Softly and with the intent to heal.

“No, but gosh why do you hate my nose so much?”

“I don’t, I’m sorry. Is just hard to coordinate myself”, he whines and leans in to take your nose into his mouth again.

“Yoongi”, you squeak, laughing wholeheartedly, “don’t do that.”

Yoongi hums around your nose just once and then ends it with a flick of his tongue and a little kiss. You wipe it dry, sending him a faux annoyed look.

“So weird”, you murmur, but despite that you wrap your arms around him and snuggle your cheek against his chest.

Yoongi’s perky butt leaves your lap as you pull him close, his arms wrap around your body instantly.

“I love you, my Yoongi”, you coo, “oh god, you’re so cute and funny and lovely and I wanna squish you”, you say, shaking him from side to side gently.

Yoongi accepts it with burning cheeks and his eyes squeezed shut in a giddy smile.

“Mhhm”, you hum and lift your head. Yoongi meets your gaze, mirroring the drunken yet honest love you have for him, “do you agree, love?”

“With what?”

“That you’re cute and funny and lovely and the most beautiful person ever”, you say, smiling so brightly your cheeks puff out.

Yoongi’s cheeks are the colour of strawberries by now, he feels so giddy that he wonders whether his insides turned into jello. Lowering his eyes first, he nods his head timidly.

“You do? Then tell me.”

“I’m funny”, he murmurs.

“And?”

“And”, he lowers his head, “and cute and lovely and yeah.”

“One more thing.”

“Beautiful. I’m beautiful”, he whispers.

“Yes”, you squeak out, squeezing his middle, “oh Yoongi, I love hearing you talk like this. You are so precious.”

Yoongi feels too overwhelmed by this. By you. You make him feel so good without even trying and Yoongi can’t handle it. He pushes you into the sheets, knocking a breathy sound out of you, and lowers his lips to your chest.

“Thank you”, he gets out, “thank you. My love, you’re my love.”

“Oh that’s really nice”, you whisper, tingling all over. Your eyes flutter closed as your body falls into the sensations.

Yoongi doesn’t know where to stay. He is so overwhelmed by how much he loves you that he wants to worship every inch of you at the same time. One second he is loving the tenderness of your breasts and the other he is sucking hickeys onto your tummy. One moment he is running his hands up and down your sides and the next he can’t stop feeling up your arms. Truly, Yoongi doesn’t know where to touch and kiss. Every inch of you is so precious to him.

He does linger on your lower tummy, the hem of your pants to be more exact. The sweet scent of your arousal keeps him hooked. It mixes with the feeling of booze running through his veins and makes him so droopy that his head turns.

You were burning up in pleasure before the quietest call of your name makes you lift your head.

“Yeah?”

Yoongi is looking up at you with pleading eyes, “can I eat you out?” he pouts, “please?”

You nod your head and drop it in the sheets. Then you lift your hips so he could undress you.

Yoongi takes the opportunity gladly, getting off of bed for it. He slips your pants and panties down your legs and drops them where they leave your body. Then he connects his hands with your body, starting at your ankles and running them up your legs slowly.

The touch feels so good that you have to sigh and squirm.

He reaches your hips and tightens his grip, tugging you to the edge of the mattress this way. It makes you squeak and giggle because you didn’t expect it.

Your gazes meet. At least you think they would, because in reality, Yoongi is mesmerised by your middle, licking his lips repeatedly. You lift your legs and prop them up on the mattress. You are on full display this way, presenting yourself to him gladly.

“Oh god”, Yoongi chokes out, running his hands to your inner thighs.

“Do you like the view?”

“I love it”, he croaks and whimpers desperately, “wanna taste you so bad. You’re so pretty and, and wet…”

“Do it. Taste me.”

Yoongi pushes your thighs apart and dives in. He doesn’t waste time once he gets your consent. Especially not when it comes to giving you head. He loves it so much that his ideal reality would consist of him lapping at you for days on end. He knows that you would never agree to this, but Yoongi truly dreams of it. He could survive on nothing but your taste, he truly could.

“So yummy, you’s so yummy”, he babbles and hums loudly, “mhm you’s so yummy.”

“You do it so well”, you sigh, “ah Yoongi, it feels so good.”

He switches between flicking his tongue through your lips and swirling it on your clit. It sounds wet and sloppy, but feels like heaven. His big hands are grasping your thighs, keeping them apart for him. Not that you plan on closing your legs any time soon. He makes you feel as if you are floating.

“I love this, is so good”, he continues to babble. The alcohol makes him chatty. It’s cute as much as it is hot, “you’s so sweet. Mhm, so good.”

“You’re…c-cute”, you stutter, gripping the sheets to twist them. Harsh, wonderful pleasure shoots through your body, starting off at your clit and spreading through your veins rapidly. Yoongi is sucking on it, flicking his tongue over it at supernatural speeds.

“Slow”, you squeak, “slow it’s, it’s”, you gasp, arching your back, “too much s-stimulation. Yoongi!”

He is going to force you to climax. It’s going to be one of those quick, hot ones. The kind which leaves you more frustrated than anything. You love and hate them. You love the quick relief they give, but hate how unsatisfying they are. And his inhuman speeds are going to make you experience exactly that.

“Yoongi please”, you beg. One more second and you’ll break, “I- now-”

Yoongi moves away. The fire dies down. You drop into the sheets, tug at them vigorously.

“Fuck. That was cruel”, you whine, huffing out air in frustration. Being edged isn’t better either.

"I love your pussy, love it so much", Yoongi says and dives down again. He repeats what he did before, sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue over it at inhuman speeds. The fire begins anew. Harsh, quick, intense. You twist the sheets, arch your back, whimper his name. And by now, you know what he is doing. He stops again when you are on the brink of breaking, gives you seconds of calm and begins anew. Over and over again, with more vigour at first until he becomes gentler and a lot slower the harder you writhe in desperation. By the time he lifts his head for longer than a few seconds, a brush of a feather would most definitely be enough to break you.

“Yoongi. Please”, you let out, writhing and squirming on the sheets without pause. You need to move to be able to bear the agonies of being denied.

“Your pussy’s throbbing”, he lulls, drooling all over his chin, “is cute. You’re cute when you’re edged.”

“Shut up and eat my pussy, fuck. You’re torturing me”, you croak.

“Is what you get.”

“For what? I, I didn’t do anything.”

“Is what you get for being so perfect.”

“Eat my pussy and stop sweet talking, please.”

Yoongi follows, but not because he wants to do it for you. He wants to do it for himself. Your taste is so addicting. He thought that the witches' wine would be the sweetest thing he tastes tonight, but he was thankfully wrong. You are the sweetest thing. You are sweeter and more addictive than anything Yoongi could ever taste. Honestly, if he wasn’t as drunk as he was right now, you would be the reason why his head is turning so much.

He concentrates his sloppy licks on your entrance. You taste the sweetest there and you don’t get overstimulated within seconds. Yoongi sometimes hates that you love his oral skills so much. Not because he hates that you feel good or that you can orgasm because of them. But because you always get so incredibly close way too quickly. Yoongi always has to slow down or break away and he doesn’t like that. He wants to keep lapping at your sweetness, taste you and get lost in his favourite meal and yet he can’t. It’s so unfair that you love it so much! Yoongi wants it longer and oh so much longer.

So he really likes to stay at your entrance, switching between grinding the flat of his tongue against you and sucking out your sweetness. You flinch each time he does the second, ending it with a sigh of his name and a little giggle.

Yoongi more than anything loves that you can giggle in his presence and more importantly, that you giggle because of him. He wasn’t lying when he told you that he wanted to study you so he could love you how you deserve to be loved. Truly, he learned countless languages in his long life and yet there is none sweeter and lovelier to learn than your language of love. Yoongi thinks that it would be okay to forget every single language for as long as he still knows how to speak to your heart. That’s all that really matters anyways.

“My love”, he gets out and opens his eyes to look up at you. You have your eyes closed and head rolled to the side. You are practically glowing in pleasure, stealing his breath away, “you’re beautiful”, he croaks, “oh god, you’re beautiful.”

He buries himself back in your warmth and whimpers. He gets sloppy again, without a clear goal in mind. He wants to worship every single inch of you at the same time and yet he can’t. He moans and groans and whimpers into you, using his entire head to feast on your sweet pussy.

“Oh god”, you keen, “oh god, Yoongi. Yoongi, it’s so good. Please, oh god.”

Somewhere along his desperate quest of being everywhere at the same time, Yoongi manages to tilt your hips up and therefore force your legs to slip.

“Oh! Ah! Help!” you squeak, fearing for your life only for Yoongi to pick up your flailing feet and prop them against his shoulders. Like this, you are putting some of your weight on him, while he carries the rest by holding you under your butt.

“Rely on me. Is fine, you’re not heavy”, he murmurs, giving your butt a gentle squeeze.

Speaking of butt. Yoongi is greedy, gluttonous and without a clear thought in his foggy mind. His tongue slips to your rim. He flicks his tongue over it. Once because then you tense up and close your legs on his head. Your hands reach down and twist his hair.

“W-wait. Wait Yoongi, wait.”

He lifts his head. You are staring at him with widened eyes.

“Don’t stop me. I had to take it too, so you’re taking it too”, he says, furrowing his brows.

“But, but it’s-”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Every inch of you is perfect. Don’t be embarrassed, stop that”, he mewls and pouts, “you’s perfect. Please”, he mumbles cutely and pouts harder.

“Okay”, you give in, opening your legs, “fine. Do it.”

Yoongi watches as you close your eyes and relax your body.

“Can I really do it?” he still makes sure because the last thing he wants to do is force you to do something you don’t want to do.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Good. That’s good. You’re perfect”, he whispers and returns to where he loves it most.

He tilts your hips, allowing his tongue access to your tight hole. He swirls the tip of his tongue over it, tracing it, tasting it, feeling it up. He loves how soft you are and how you are tensing under him. He loves how your pussy is so wet that your sweetness managed to run down to your little hole as well and how it’s now coating his tongue. And he loves how you are digging your feet into his shoulders as you are chasing him for more.

Yoongi moans and gives it to you gladly. He can’t get enough of you and it’s only been a few seconds. He places the flat of his tongue on your hole and grinds it back and forth, incorporating eager sucks every now and then. He has to get every single droplet of your taste. He can’t live without it. He just can’t.

“Oh god, that feels…..” you writhe and twist his hair, “...Yoongi, fuck….”

So this is how a rimjob feels. No wonder Jungkook is so fucking obsessed with them. And no wonder Yoongi couldn’t control his voice when you made him sit on you. This feels fucking incredible.

You can’t stop moaning and writhing and twisting his hair. You thought that you wouldn’t like it at first – you’re awkward, still thinking that they would be weirded out by parts of your body – but you love it. It’s not embarrassing at all and his tongue is so, so warm and feels so incredibly wet against your rim.

You flinch into him, releasing a shaky moan. Yoongi lifts his tongue, thinking you wanted to flee.

“Do you like it, my love? Are you comfortable?” he asks.

“Yeah”, you nod your head, “yeah, like it. Yoongi, love it.”

“I love it too”, he says and returns to his favourite spot. He wants to taste your pussy again, planning to return to your rim once you are close again.

“Oh”, your hips buck up and bury his nose in your pubes, “oh god.”

Yoongi purrs, pulling you closer to his face and sucking on your clit with his eyes focused on you. You can’t see that he looks at you. You are too far gone to be able to open your eyes. Yoongi doesn’t mind that you aren’t looking, all he really wants to see is how your face changes in pleasure. It makes him so happy to see how good he serves you. He also loves how close to you he is right now. Your pussy smells so good and your pubes feel so soft against his nose. He could honestly live in here. He is so obsessed with every inch of you.

“Yoon-”, you whimper and he knows what to do. He stops sucking to lick up and down your clit instead. It’s a smooth rhythm, slow yet intense because he keeps pressing himself into you. The electric pleasure sits oh so deep inside your stomach, making you arch your back because nothing else helps.

“Yoongi”, the way you say his name makes his cock throb in his jeans. You are close again. He hates that you are because he doesn’t want to stop, but also loves it because he gets off on making you feel good. He guides his tongue through your folds. They are so fucking puffy and hot around him.

“You’re so swollen for me”, he lulls and chuckles against your pussy, “fuck princess, love it when your pussy’s all puffy for me.”

You mewl, gripping the sheets and twisting them. He can be so nasty sometimes.

“Gotta fucking love it”, he murmurs and wiggles his tongue into your pussy.

Your legs close around his head again. You squeak, tensing up because oh my god what is happening? His tongue is filling you up. Not only a little, but actually filling you up. As if he was fucking you with his fingers or stuffing his cock into you.

“Yoongi stop, wait.”

He breaks away from you, panting like a rapid dog with his tongue sticking out. You ogle it. It’s normal. Terribly pink and wet, but normal.

“W-what did you do?”

“Nothing”, he lies, “I won’t do it again. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did it.”

“No, no what did you do?” you say, “be honest, can you grow your tongue? I swear to god, you always do stuff like that and I can’t tell.”

“Maybe”, he says.

“Show me.”

Yoongi moves in and buries his tongue back in your pussy.

“No, I meant-”

He fills you up again. Wet, hot, long. He pumps it in an out of you quickly, curling it each time he graces over your g-spot. The sensation is so fucking intense that your head begins turning.

“-actually, yeah that’s exactly what I meant. Fuck”, you twist the sheets and open your legs as far as the position allows you to, “Yoongi…”

Yoongi growls, tearing up because he forgets to blink. He can’t believe how lost in pleasure you look. He is doing something so utterly selfish and you love it. You actually love it.

He thought about sticking his tongue into you ever since he first tasted you. He wanted to do it in the church, thought about doing it in the gym, craved it in the sitting room and ached for it each time he ate you out. But he always held back because his growing tongue is embarrassing to him and he was sure you would be weirded out by it. Tonight the alcohol made him reckless and he lost his composure, but instead of judging him, you love it. Yoongi is so happy that he could scream.

But he doesn’t scream. He growls into you like a fucking demon and speeds up his tongue. He is fast and he wants you to never forget that. He isn’t the fasted fucking vampire for nothing. He’ll use that shit to get you to scream in his stead.

And you do. Oh, you fucking do. You scream his name and about how he is making you cum all while your tasty pussy is convulsing around his tongue. And once again, Yoongi curses his own talent because fuck, why you gotta be so close again?

Despite his heart aching, he slips his tongue out of you and allows it to switch back to human size.

“Stop being sensitive”, he whines, but you can’t hear him. Too big is the agony of once again being denied.

“I wanna cum”, you whimper and sob, “please don’t edge me anymore.”

“Then stop being sensitive.”

“Wow okay, it’s not like a have control over that, Mister. You’re the one with the demonic skills.”

“Sorry, just don’t wanna stop”, he murmurs, lifting himself just a little so your hips naturally tilt up. Then he finally makes good on his promise and returns to your rim. It is wet from his drool and your dripping pussy, clenching under him as a shaky moan slips from your lips.

“You drive me insane”, you get out, digging your toes into his shoulders as hot pleasure courses through you, “like fuck, Yoongi you fucking demon.”

Yoongi growls, agreeing with you with his fingers squeezing your flesh. He is a demon and you are the fire he needs to live. His chest rumbles in a growl because this is all he can do right now. He speeds up his tongue on your rim and squeezes your hips. It feels so good and yet you want more.

“Yoongi”, you sigh, “Yoongi, I need your fingers too.”

Yoongi purrs, changing his grip on you so he could slide his right hand to your pussy. He connects two of his fingers with your clit and rubs circles on it. Then he buries his thumb in your pussy, eliciting a loud moan from you. His thumb has the perfect length and girth to fill you up. This is heaven. It really is.

“Holy shit, don’t stop”, you croak, curling your toes on his shoulders. This is it. This is the best thing you ever felt. His wet tongue on your hole and his long fingers working your pussy while he keeps grunting and growling like the sexy demon he is. You are dripping all over his fingers, soiling the hair on his digits with your pleasure. Yoongi will most definitely lick them clean later. He loves it when you soak his hair with your juices. It gets him so good. Or maybe he won’t clean it off. Maybe he'll keep your juices on his fingers so he can get a glimpse of your scent every now and then. You watched him do that before and it almost made you swoon.

Yoongi is moving his thumb in and out your pussy, timing the movements with circles of his fingers. He loves how you shake because of it and how your hole is fluttering under his tongue.

“I really wanna cum”, you confess, arching into him.

Yoongi has two options. Edge you again or make you climax. Both sound heavenly to him.

“Yoongi please my love, let me cum. Please.”

His tummy flutters because of your words. It is decided. He loves you way too much to edge you again. He has to grant you your wish. He can’t say no to you.

Yoongi moans into you and presses his tongue closer. He doesn’t change anything of what his hand is doing because he doesn’t want to fuck up your build-up. Then he moans again, grinding the flat of his tongue against your hole and circling his fingers on your clit. He needs your high so fucking bad.

“I’m cumming”, you whimper and grab his hair to make sure he stays, “please?”

He hums and nods his head.

“Oh god”, you croak, “Yoongi!”

As much as you hate to admit it, Yoongi was so right about edging you as much as he did, because this orgasm feels life changing. No words could ever describe how intense it feels and how you feel both alive and dead. Only Yoongi can make you feel this way. Only Yoongi.

After the high, you have to physically push away from him because of how much overstimulation hurts. That’s how good he gets you. He ruined you. He destroyed you to the point where a second orgasm seems out of question.

Yoongi lets you push him away even if he wants more. So much more. He wants more and more and more. He growls desperately in sync with you barely getting a sound out. He helps you lie down on the mattress and makes sure your feet are safely propped up.

“Shit”, he presses out and buries his face in your inner thigh to suck and lick you there. Something that tastes like you. It’s all he needs. He switches between your left and right leg, enjoying your taste with closed eyes and ragged breaths.

You like what he is doing. It feels good and is the perfect way to calm down after such an intense high. You are tingling like crazy, feeling butterflies in your stomach. He made you feel so, so good.

Yoongi moves on to kissing and biting your tummy once your thighs physically can’t offer any more space for him. He is gripping your waist so tightly that he brings it in a little. You giggle because it tickles.

“Wait, don’t tickle me”, you say, pushing at his shoulders softly.

Yoongi lifts his head, revealing his red eyes and black veins to you.

“Oh”, you let out.

He pants, dripping saliva onto your tummy without having any kind of control over it.

You reach out and trace his veins, “my beautiful.”

Within a second, his human face appears. As if all it took to get him back was for you to call him beautiful.

You smile, “you just made me see stars.”

“I did?” he whispers timidly. As if he wasn’t entirely cocky about his skills mere minutes ago.

You turn over so you were facing him. He is eye to eye with you like this, gazing at you with messy lips and his eyes sparkly. You are propped up on your elbow, resting on your tummy.

“You did. This was incredible”, you say, reaching out to cradle his cheek in your palm, “you’re an amazing lover”, you smile, “just like I said at the beach”, you add and giggle sweetly.

Yoongi lets out a little whimper, leaning into your touch. He looks so utterly high from you and droopy from the praise.

“I”, he begins but closes his mouth again, lowering his eyes.

“Tell me, my love.”

“I love pleasing you”, he confesses and shimmies closer.

“You do?” you whisper, tracing his cheekbone.

He nods his head vigorously, whispering a breathy, “yeah.”

“Oh Yoongi my love, you are so precious.”

He wiggles his shoulders, nudging your palm with his nose before he snuggles his cheek into it with closed eyes. Your heart flutters because of it. He is such a cutie when he’s drunk.

“Yoongi my love?”

“Yes, my love?” he looks at you with big, expectant eyes.

“I want you to know that you can say no, but I wanted to ask you if I could return the favour.”

“What do, do you mean?”

“Can I give you head?”

“Oh”, he lets out and lowers his eyes.

“It’s just that I’m so into you, my love and, and the few times you let me or Kook suck your dick are running through my mind. You’re so sexy when you get sucked off.”

“Oh.”

“So that’s why I’m asking”, you say and tilt his head up so he is staring into your eyes, “I wanna make you feel so good, my love”, you whisper, making him gulp and then part his lips.

His eyes race between yours. The silence between you and him is intense. Not because it’s uncomfortable, but because with every second passing in silence, the connection between you and him deepens. And it’s stealing your sanity.

Yoongi looks at your lips and speaks in a small voice, “would I please you with it?”

“Of course you would, but my love this shouldn’t feel like an obligation to you. I want you to feel comfortable and like you want it.”

“I do”, he whispers, “I’m awkward. I asked, because…like with my body. And my looks. What you told me. You know?”

“I do”, you give him a smile, “then, yes of course you would please me with it.”

“Okay”, he lowers his eyes, “I like that. It’s good. I’m awkward.”

“Don’t be, I’ll take it slow.”

“___”, he lets out and closes the distance between you and him, “kiss me.”

You tilt your head and Yoongi knows to take it. You fall into a deep kiss. Your fingers tangle in his hair, Yoongi grabs the edge of the mattress. He lowers himself until he is truly kneeling, sitting on his feet, and he has to tilt his head up to reach your lips. He loves doing that. He loves having to look up at you. Especially when he feels as fuzzy and soft as he feels tonight. He just wants to do good for you and prove to you how utterly and enthusiastically he is yours. There is no better way to show you than by looking up at you and following your every demand.

The kiss breaks because you broke it. Yoongi chases it with parted lips and an ache of longing in his chest. He cups your face in an attempt to tug you into another kiss, but you aren’t budging, leaving him to yearn for you.

“So? Can I make you feel good too, my love?” you ask in a soft whisper.

“I guess.”

“That’s not enough for me”, you say, “need you convinced.”

“I-”, he gets interrupted by you pulling him into a kiss. He moans deeply, feeling his chest tingle in happiness. He wants this to last forever.

Sadly it doesn’t because you cruelly break the kiss again. This is to rile him up. You know how needy he gets when you take away his beloved kisses.

“Don’t do that all the time”, he demands with furrowed brows, but you ignore him.

You have to change positions, your neck started hurting. You sit down on the edge and let your legs tangle over it. You open them far enough that Yoongi has space between them and then you take his face into your hands.

“Come here”, you tell him and Yoongi follows happily.

He lifts his butt from his feet, but keeps kneeling. Like this, your face is just a little out of reach for him. You have to lower yourself and Yoongi has to lift his head. You manage to make it work, falling into a deep kiss this way.

Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist, moaning into the kiss. He didn’t care about kissing in the past. Hell, he hated it. The aspect of exchanging saliva with someone was disgusting to him. But with you he, not once, had these thoughts. The moment you kissed him for the first time in his music room, Yoongi was obsessed. He finally understood the meaning of it. It feels so good when you kiss him.

You run your hands down the nape of his neck and Yoongi tingles like crazy. You guide them to the front of him and Yoongi swears he can’t stop sighing. You dance your fingers over his exposed collarbones and Yoongi arches his back.

He breaks the kiss – surprising himself with it – and looks at you.

“I want this. Please”, he begs, making your eyes sparkle.

“You do?”

He nods his head.

“I like it when you, yeah, I like it when you”, he stutters and reaches out to trace your lips, “when you do that.”

You know what he wants to say with it, but you love to tease him.

“Do what, Yoongi?”

“When you do that, you know what I mean”, he whines.

You giggle, “no baby, I don’t. You gotta use your big boy words.”

“When you suck my dick”, he blurts out with burning cheeks and a pout on his lips, “why are you so mean? You know what I was talkin’ bout.”

“Oh my most loved”, you say and hug him against your chest. You kiss the crown of his head and sway him from side to side, giggling happily, “you are so cute. Oh my cutie, you make me so happy. Oh my love, I want to make you feel so, so good.”

“You do”, he whispers, enjoying your hug with closed eyes. He is resting against your naked breasts and they are so, so soft and warm. Yoongi loves this feeling so much.

“You’re my cutie patootie, Yoongi Boongie.”

“I’m what?” he looks up at you with big, sparkly eyes.

“My cutie patootie.”

“Oh”, he blushes, “I like it. I’m your patootie.”

You squeak, “oh my god, Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You are so cute, holy fuck. I’m gonna throw up, you are so cute.”

He hides away in your chest, “this was so dumb”, he mumbles, “I’m drunk, is dumb what I said. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t and it’s not dumb. It’s cute and you’re cute. God, I wanna make you feel so good, you have no idea”, you say and squeeze him, “I even have an idea about how I want to do it”, you say.

“Okay, tell me.”

“I’ll show you, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You let go of him and lie back down on your tummy. You are eye to eye again. You smile whilst he blushes.

“Now stand up and let me do it like that.”

He lowers his eyes, blushing harder.

“Do you want it like this?” you make sure.

“Yeah I do”, he whispers and throws his hand over his eyes, “oh god, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to, it’s just….it’s sexy, yeah.”

You snicker, “yeah? Like it?”

He nods his head, “yeah…” he confesses and gets to his feet. He scrambles to take off his jeans and later briefs. He steps out of them once they are by his feet. Then he closes the distance between you and him, covering himself with this hand.

You look up at him. The bed is high enough that your lips are exactly at the height of his dick. What a perfect coincidence.He looks really tall in this position, gazing down at you with vibrant red cheeks. Despite the major height difference, you feel in charge. There is no ounce of dominance in his gaze, no hint of authority in his stance. He is utterly and happily yours, ready to fulfil your every command.

You get to your knees to make it easier for yourself. Just for a little while. You have to make sure that he keeps his hands away. You take them and guide them behind his back. Like this, you can gaze deep into his eyes while Yoongi barely manages to look at you. Your fingers are tight around his wrists. Yoongi lets you move them without any sort of resistance, breathing heavily because of it. He feels so tiny and soft right now. It feels so, so good.

You are only a tilt of the head away from kissing him. The energy between you and him feels electric. Yoongi gulps, shivering unbearably when you dance your fingertips up and down the inside of his wrists. He is so tender there.

“Keep them just like this”, you whisper.

Yoongi intertwines his fingers with each other, squeezing his own hands. It brings a smile to your lips. The view is so addictive to him that his knees wobble and he squeezes his hands even harder just so he can do an even better job for you and make you smile brighter.

“You’re such a good boy”, you praise, dancing your hands along his waist to his tummy.

He chases your touch, biting down on his lower lip for a second before he licks it instead. You have no idea how much he is burning up. The alcohol in his system makes him so much more sensitive than he is on normal days. The knowledge that you were now truly and utterly yourself again without any evil witches hiding in your dreams, makes him so happy that he gets even more sensitive. And you are making him feel so safe and loved that Yoongi has been slowly and ever so slowly shifting into this soft, small and vulnerable headspace and it’s adding even more sensitivity to this. In conclusion, the mere air which you breathe out and which swirls over his skin is enough to cover him in goosebumps, your warm touch feels unbearable in comparison.

“I’m not a good boy.”

“You’re not?”

He shakes his head.

“No? Then you’re my patootie.”

“Stop”, he gasps and looks at the floor. He giggles. It’s high-pitched and sounds so not all like Yoongi. You can’t describe what this does to you. You just know that you are overcome with this urge to hold him.

Truly, sometimes you want to squeeze this man until he breaks in your fingers. Cuteness aggression. You read of it somewhere and never believed it to be real. It is very real. You are so overtaken by adoration for this man that you want to take him into your arms and squeeze until he crumbles.

But you don’t. Obviously, because you could never hurt him. Instead you tug him closer to you and begin covering every single inch of his pretty face in kisses.

“I love you, I love you, I love you”, you babble between kisses, “I love you so much, holy fuck I love you so much. My love, you’re my love. I love you.”

Yoongi laughs and whines and smiles and laughs so much that a few droplets of tears escape his eyes. He isn’t actually crying. He is just so happy that he wants to tear up. It’s not stupid. At least he tells himself that.

You kiss them right away, then cover his forehead in kisses as well.

“My love, oh my love. I love you”, you say, ruffling his hair from grabbing it so vehemently, “I love you.”

You end your love attack by kissing his lips. Yoongi moans into the kiss, fighting against his urges to wrap his arms around you and press you close. He has to keep his hands behind his back. You told him to do so and it feels so good to obey you. Yoongi blames the booze on his state of mind (it’s not the alcohol, he just secretly loves being your good boy, but he isn’t ready for that confession yet).

The kiss breaks when you are both breathless.

“Fuck Yoongi”, you press out, slipping your hands to the sides of his neck. Your foreheads are resting against each other, “you have no idea how much I love you.”

“I love you too, like, the most I ever loved another person”, he whispers and lowers his head as he exhales shakily, “please touch me.”

It was only three words, thirteen letters and yet they are so destructive to you that you have to gasp for air. Yoongi just asked to be touched.

“Yes”, you press out, “yes my love, of course I will touch you. Oh my love”, you kiss his lips, “I love you”, you get out and hug him, “god, I love you.”

He murmurs something you can’t quite understand, but you don’t ask for clarification. He definitely told you that he loved you too and was too shy to speak up. You squeeze him one last time and then you finally lay back down.

“I wanna touch you so well, explore you and find the parts you love the most”, you say, switching your eyes from gazing at his face to gazing at his cock, “you have no idea how much I’m thinking about touching you. It’s all I’m thinkin’ bout sometimes.”

His cock is as hard as it can get, leaking strings of desperation. It throbs when you look at it, making your tummy turn in excitement. Your love and adoration made him wet to the point where it’s trickling out of him. He can’t even hide how much he loves your attention. You feel so good because of it, because it means that he loves being coddled and you love coddling him, so you can do it a lot more from now on.

“Your cock is so, so pretty my love”, you say.

He throbs. Again. How cute. How wonderful. How perfect he is.

“And so leaky. God Yoongi, you have no idea how much I wanna taste you”, you say and wrap your fingers around the base of him, “come closer.”

He follows instantly, squeezing his own hands in anticipation.

“You seriously have the prettiest cock”, you mumble and kiss his tip, “so pretty. So, so pretty. The prettiest cock in the entire universe”, you babble between continuous kisses all over his glazed over tip. It’s so flushed and tender. You can’t get enough of it.

It’s also so adorable how pink Yoongi gets. His knuckles and fingertips, his elbows and knees, his cheeks and button nose. And his cock. Yoongi merely has to receive enough of your attention and his body shows you his happiness in flushes of different pink tones. It makes you both incredibly smitten for him and intensely hungry for more.

You dart your tongue out and swirl it over his velvety cockhead.

“Mhm”, he lets out and heaves for air. You know that he does, because you can feel the air he exhales swirl over your back. You like the sensation, rewarding him by tilting his cock up so you could kiss down his swollen vein. It throbs and pulsates under your lips and above you, Yoongi exhales shakily once more. Your skin tingles where his breath dances over you. It feels so good.

“So pretty, you’re so beautiful”, you whisper, worshipping his balls with eager kisses while your fingers massage his tip. You make sure to pay special attention to his frenulum. You learned from the few times he allowed you to touch him that he really likes this spot being touched. It’s not directly on his frenulum, but just left of it. He gets especially wet when you touch him there.

Tonight it’s intensified by the fact that he is drunk, super in love with you and overall in a very sensitive headspace. He is leaking like crazy, whining your name as breathily as possible.

“And you have such pretty balls too”, you whisper, kissing up his vein again, “seriously every inch of you is perfect. Every goddamn fucking inch.”

He drips into your mouth as you wrap your lips around him. He couldn’t help it. He gets so wet for you. Especially tonight. Oh god, especially tonight. Yoongi moans desperately and tilts his head back. Especially tonight. Why is he so sensitive tonight? Why does this feel so good tonight? What’s happening to him? What has been happening to him lately? First you get him to sit on your tongue and moan without control and now he can’t stop leaking for you. He is changing and he can’t control it. Oh, Yoongi has to squeeze his own hands because all he wants to do is grab your hair and pull you off.

He doesn’t want to pull you off. The need to do so is an instinct from his past. A stupid, exhausting instinct he needed for survival. But he doesn’t need to survive from you, he is allowed to live. Live for you and more importantly live with you. And living right now feels like paradise. Living right now means that he is allowed to have his cock worshipped and to actually like it. Living right now means arching his back and gasping for air as you let him glide over your warm tongue.

And living right now means moaning your name when he hits the back of your throat and feels the vibrations of your voice course through him as you moan around him. That’s what living right now means. Warm, safe pleasure. He can let go. He can enjoy. And he does. He really, really does.

You slide off of him, not only for air but also to check up on him. He hasn’t noticed it yet, you sent him too far away. His head is tilted back, his neck is revealed like this and from what you can see, he has his pouty lips parted.

“So beautiful”, you rasp, “oh my love, you’re beautiful.”

You take him back inside, moving your head back and forth on his cock while you suck him vigorously. You concentrate the attention on the first two inches of his length, swirling your tongue over his tip each time you can. The parts you don’t taste right now, you massage with eager fingers. He should feel good all over. You really, really want this for him.

Yoongi moans and forgets to think. He places his hand on the back of your head and closes his fingers around a bundle of your hair. The punishment is instant. You slip off, sit up and pin his hands back.

“Keep them behind your back, Boongie”, you order firmly but with blinding love in your eyes, “I want you to be my good boy and keep them behind your back. Please.”

Yoongi blinks at you with droopy, glassy eyes.

Studying his features, you furrow your brows “what’s wrong? What does this face mean?”

“I’m yours”, he croaks, having his knees buckle, “please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you, silly”, you say and smooch his cheek, “now behave and keep them behind your back. Okay?” you make sure and boop his nose.

“Okay”, he lets out, nodding his head in obedience.

“That’s my good boy”, you grin mischievously and add a whispered, “good kitty.”

Which results in Yoongi’s face falling in utter surprise and then becoming beet red seconds later. You giggle, giving his button nose one last boop for good measures.

And with that, you get comfortable again. Unlike before, you lie down on your back, allowing your head to tangle over the edge just enough that your throat is stretched. His cock is throbbing above you, leaking onto your lips.

“You like that?” you ask.

“Yeah”, he gets out and moans shakily as he exhales.

“I like it too. I think. I never did that before”, you giggle, “but I’m excited”, you confess and reach up to hold his cock. You tilt it down to your lips and let it slide back inside.

“Ah”, Yoongi squeaks out and looks away. He can’t look at this. You are gazing up at him with so much love, while your lips move around his cock and Yoongi can’t bear to look at it. It’s too sexy of a view. He will break within seconds.

You don’t mind that he is shy about eye contact. You like watching him blink rapidly as his eyes try to find a spot to focus on and how his lips open and close as he keeps continuously gasping for air. It’s adorable and arousing and you can’t get enough of him. You slide your hand to his hip and with a gentle push make him fuck into you.

He stumbles closer and presses out a curse, keeping his mouth open as he inhales so deeply his chest heaves up.

You moan around him, grabbing his other hip as well to show him that you want him to move like this. You can’t get the view of when he fucked Jungkook’s face out of your head. Ever since then, you have been fantasising about how it would feel. This is all you want to experience yourself. You need him to find pleasure this way.

“I-”, Yoongi gets out, tries to reach for you only to stop himself and squeeze his own wrist, “oh god”, he croaks, tilting his head back and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Goo- ‘oy”, you praise him even if talking is barely impossible. The vibrations make his thighs twitch. You tighten your grip on his hips and use his moment of weakness to push him closer. He slides down your throat in his entirety, surprising himself with it. You are surprised yourself. You didn’t expect to suddenly be buried chin first in his pubes and to feel an immense pressure in your throat.

You push him back. He flops out of you, dripping all over your face.

“Woah.”

He whimpers and drops his head, revealing his scrunched up nose and flushed cheeks. He twitches and shakes, aching for more. Fuck, he needs to keep squeezing his wrists in order not to reach to the front.

“Woah, did you feel that? I just took your whole dick”, you say.

He nods his head, curling his lips back as he grinds his teeth.

“That was so intense. I never did that before”, you confess and giggle, “this was so much fun.”

He nods his head and whimpers softly.

“Oh Yoongs, I love you”, you get out and take him back inside. You try to talk around him, telling him to move his hips which results in you sending various vibrations through his cock and making him shake with it. “ust ‘ike ‘is”, you mumble and guide his hips. He fills you up more and more. It’s so easy to take him in this position and it feels so, so good to do. He bottoms out mere seconds later and you guide his hips back and forth ever so slightly.

“I have to cum”, Yoongi confesses and tenses his arms as he fights the urge to hold your face, “please stop, I have to cum.”

You purr and shake your head, guiding his hips to make sure he keeps moving them. You don’t have to do much more. You just have to lay here, relax your throat and move his hips and Yoongi is already losing it.

“I have to- ah”, he trembles and moves his hands from his back. For a second, you think that he might reach for you, but he doesn’t. He slides them under his shirt and touches his own nipples. He doesn’t know that you can see it, but you can. Soft tummy and perky nipples, you can see under his shirt now that he is sticking his arms under it. And his fingers are currently rubbing and pinching his own nipples.

You moan desperately, bruising his hips from how aggressively you hold him. This is so hot. You speed up his movements, growling around his velvety cock as your head spins out of control. This is so hot. You need this man so much.

“You’re making me cum. Princess, you’re making me cum”, he keens, twitching with his entire body over and over again, “can I c-cum?”

“Mmhm”, you hum aggressively and nod your head. What a stupid question. Of course you want him to climax.

Yoongi pinches his nipples and as your chin gets buried in his groomed pubes, he feels the fire in his body get too much. He breaks, finding release down your throat. And it feels so good that he reaches for you, holding your face between his clammy palms as his hips keep twitching over and over again. It’s so cute how squirmy they are and how hard he tries not to squeeze your cheeks.

“___”, he whimpers, sounding utterly and incurably submissive.

You love this man so much. No language on earth, no amount of song and art and poetry will ever be able to describe what you feel for him. No words. There are no words worthy to describe your love for him.

You moan around him, feeling high from his cum. It’s coating your throat and tastes heavenly. Sweet like honey with a hint of grape to it. It’s probably because he is drunk. He doesn’t taste like grapes on other days, just like honey.

Oh how much you love this man. You slide off of him once he twitched for the last time and you swallowed every droplet of his sweet climax.

“Good boy”, you praise, “good boy, you’re such a good boy. Mhm, I love your cum, my good boy”, you babble, kissing his rosy tip over and over again. He is still hard, because he is gluttonous for more and needs no time to recover.

He does need time to heal from what you just did however. Overstimulation is still unbearable to him.

“Please. No”, he begs and places his hands over yours.

You slow down, gazing up at him through the hazy fog of drunken pleasure.

“Sensitive”, you breathes.

“Mhhm okay”, you purr, “did you like this?” you ask him.

“Yeah”, he breathes out and squeezes your hands in sync with his brows furrowing.

“I loved it too. I can’t believe I actually took your whole cock.”

“Is ‘cause you’re drunk”, he mumbles and huffs out air, “sensitive. Please no touching.”

“I’m just caressing you. Your dick’s so soft, my love.”

“Sensitive, please”, he begs and grabs your thumb, “hurts.”

“But you like pain.”

“Is too much.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Look, I’m already stopping”, you say and slide your hands to his waist. You massage it gently, “Yoongi my love?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too”, he whispers and finally opens his eyes to meet your gaze. His cock throbs and leaks. Cute.

You smile, “you’re so beautiful, my love.”

“My love, I-”, he begins and slides his hands down your neck and collarbones.

“That feels so good”, you sigh.

“I wanna be inside you”, he confesses.

“Yeah?” you open your mouth.

“No, in your pussy”, he says, feeling up your tummy even if he has to get on his tippy toes to reach you. He doesn’t even care that he is currently rubbing his balls all over your face. He is so mesmerised by you.

“Okay, you can just-”, you snicker, “-stop rubbing your balls all over me.”

He stumbles back, “sorry. I don’t- sorry.”

You sit up and tug him into you, “don’t worry about it. I liked it”, you assure him and close your legs around him, “how do you wanna take me? Like this?”

“No. Wanna lie and you’re on top.”

“Hot.”

“Do you want this too?”

“Of course I do.”

“Can we do it now? Please, princess?”

“Yes, my love. Let’s do it.”

You talk as you are switching positions.

“Was this nice for you?” you ask him.

“Yeah, was nice.”

“Did you feel uncomfortable?”

“No.”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable either. Your dick was really far down my throat and it was foreign at first, but I really liked it.”

“I was deep”, he says and lowers his eyes shyly, “it was good.”

“It really was. I also watched you rub your nipples. That felt good to you, didn’t it?”

He nods his head and blushes. He is sitting on the mattress, having his knees pulled to his body sideways.

You shimmy closer, “I will remember that”, you caress his arm, “one day I wanna know all the spots you love the most so I can make you feel as good as possible.”

“You already do.”

“No. No, I think I can do it even better”, you say and give him a playful grin, “I think you’re still keeping a few spots from me.”

“No, I don’t”, he lies, making you snicker.

“Okay, okay if you say so. I think you’re lying.”

“You can’t prove it.”

“Sure, I can’t”, you say sarcastically and snicker.

Yoongi grins, tilting his head to the side playfully. He even flutters his lashes at you.

“You’re so cute, my love”, you coo and lift your hips so you can get in top of him.

“Wait”, he stops you.

“What’s wrong?”

“I wanna-”, he stops taking and instead does it. He takes off his shirt, throwing it to the side. Then he looks up at you with big, expectant eyes.

“Really?” you breathe.

He nods his head, “I’m safe.”

You smile, cupping his cheeks, “oh my love, of course you are.”

“And I’m drunk”, he laughs shyly, “is ‘cause I’m drunk.”

“Okay, okay I understand”, you snicker, “you’re one of the wild ones when you drink, huh?”

He laughs, nodding his head, “yeah, wild ones. Just for you though.”

“Mhm okay, okay just for me. My wild boy.”

“No. Wild patootie. Wanna be that.”

“Okay fine”, you squeak, “oh you are so cute, I could burst. Can I get on your lap now?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m really excited for this”, you say.

“Me too. I like it when you do that, yeah.”

“Do what?”

“Ride me”, he pouts, “don’t make me say all the shit, it’s embarrassing.”

“No it’s not, you’re just awkward”, you tease and sit down on his lap.

“So don’t make me say it”, he whines.

You snicker, “you’re cute”, you say and place your hand on his chest to push him down. You don’t get to the pushing part, because he drops with the first touch, sliding his big hands to your hips and gazing up at you with devoted eyes.

You smile, he retorts it.

“You really wanted to lie down, didn’t you?”

He nods his head, “dizzy.”

“Me too”, you say, lifting your hips from his lap so you can move over his cock.

He furrows his brows, touching your waist and holding it tightly so he can stabilise you.

“Do you want this?” he asks.

“Of course I do, my love. Don’t worry about me, I like being dizzy right now. You made me dizzy, it’s nice to be drunk with you.”

“Okay. I think so too. I don’t feel so awkward.”

“Mhm and you’re really cute”, you say and touch his cock, “ready? I wanna sink down on you.”

He nods his head vigorously, squeezing your waist, “please take me.”

You lower yourself and allow him to slide into you. His eyes fall closed and his lips part in a breathy moan. You sigh, fighting the urge to close your eyes as well. You can’t miss out on his face, it’s too pretty not to look at.

“M-mine”, you whisper.

“Yours”, he croaks, running his hands to your hips, “is so good.”

“It’s so good”, you agree, taking in the last inch of him. You can feel him inside you. It doesn’t hurt at all. It feels like warm, constant pressure deep in your tummy. You run your hand to where it feels the most intense and press into the spot.

His thighs tense and his knees lift up for just a second before they drop again and he moans your name. You are always fucking obsessed with when he moans your name. It’s rare, which means that whatever you are doing is affecting him so much that he has to call out for you.

“You’re so deep, my love”, you sigh, “you’re reaching me all the way to here”, you say, drawing circles on your tummy, “it’s so nice, feel it.”

He lets you take his hand and guide it to the spot. You put gentle pressure on it and make him draw circles on it.

“Right there….” you breathe, “feel it?”

“Yes”, he croaks, squeezing your hip with his other hand. His fingers are shaking as he does, barely wanting to apply pressure. You are ruining him. This is messing him up. To feel how deep he is, how he is part of you, how perfectly you fit together. He couldn’t imagine anything more devastating than this. It feels so good to be with you.

“Keep doing that, please”, you order and begin moving up and down on him. You support yourself on his tummy, holding his soft waist safely between your fingers as you put some of your weight on him. Like this, you can rock your hips up and down on his cock. His knees try to lift again, his head rolls to the side and a deep moan slips from his tongue. It sounded so submissive, despite how deep it was. He presses his hand against your tummy oh so tightly, applying nice and warm pressure on where it feels the best. It intensifies how good his cock feels by a thousand times. You don’t even need stimulation to your clit to feel consumed by overwhelming pleasure.

“Yes. My love….you feel so good….”

“Good. Yeah. So good…”

Your eyes fall closed. Everything just felt way too nice. Your head drops and a shaky moan rolls off your tongue.

“So deep, my love. My love, you’re part of me”, you get out between your sounds of pleasure.

“Yours”, Yoongi answers you and peels his eyes open just enough that he can see you. You are glowing so much, looking so beautiful that he feels star struck. He abandons your hip to run his hand up to your breasts. He gathers one of them in his hand and massages it gently in careful, slow squeezes and with his thumb tracing your skin.

“That feels so good”, you sigh, arching into him.

“You’re so beautiful”, he whispers, “my love, my beautiful love.”

“You’re beautiful too I- ah fuck, so good”, you moan, squeezing his waist as he begins circling his thumb on your nipple as he massages you and that feels heavenly.

“My beautiful love”, he sighs, “my beautiful. So, so beautiful. My love.”

You love being with him. You really, really do. Not only because he makes you feel happy and safe and giddy, but also because of how good sex with him feels. It feels so right and so intense without having to be rough. You aren’t doing much right now. Slow movements up and down with his hands applying pressure where it feels the best and yet you feel ruined. You wonder if this is what true love feels like and hope that if it does, it never stops.

“___?”

You open your eyes to meet his sparkly gaze.

“Yes?”

Yoongi intertwines his hands with yours, props up his elbows and then wiggles your connected hands from side to side. He smiles, chuckling deeply as he does. He even goes so far as to scrunch his nose up and squeeze his eyes into little slits.

“Oh my god”, you let out, “oh my god, you are so cute. Oh my god, Yoongi Boongie.”

You have to chase the way he makes you feel. Your heart is fluttering like crazy and your tummy tingles so much. His length inside you feels so warm and nice as well. Not only for pleasure reasons, but also for connection. You have to feel him and make sure that the butterflies you are experiencing never stop.

You move your hips back and forth in slow rolls, squeezing his hands as you do because all you want is to hold him close.

Yoongi’s face morphs into a slightly droopy expression. His smiles drops and turns into parted lips and widened eyes. Then a breathy gasp leaves him. Quiet and just meant for you to hear. He squeezes your hands.

“Does that feel good, my love?” you ask him.

He nods his head and purrs quietly.

“It feels so good for me too”, you tell him, clenching down on him, “I love being so close to you. It’s so nice and…yeah, and warm.”

“Warm”, Yoongi lets out and then you can watch how his pretty eyes roll back and fall close. His lips part farther. He lets a soft “ah” roll off his tongue.

“You’re so pretty. Holy shit, you’re so pretty”, you breathe, “my beautiful Yoongi.”

He throbs inside you, squeezes your hands and releases another little “ah.”

You feel so good. You are riding Yoongi whilst holding both his hands. The position he has his arms propped up in, allows you to find support from holding him. Like this, moving on him becomes a lot easier to do. It’s like he is helping you without doing anything. You also love how his palms become hotter and hotter the longer you ride him. His body heat crawls up his pretty body in rosy spots on his chest and neck. It’s slowly creeping up his cheeks as well. The sun has risen enough by now that it dances into the room in swirls of golden light. It turns the pale colour of his vampire skin the most beautiful of human shades. He really is the most beautiful person on earth.

“Yoongi.”

He peels his eyes open slowly. It’s been so long since he last looked at you and now he has to moan at the view. Quietly again. Just for you to hear. You are glowing in the golden sunrise, the rays really bring out just how heated you are. Sweat glistens on your skin and makes your body look ethereal. He throbs inside you at the view, squeezing your hands.

You smile.

“You’re beautiful”, you say.

He mewls and closes his eyes.

“No. Look at me, please.”

Yoongi obeys. The flush on his cheeks turns a faint red. He squeezes your hands.

“That’s better. I love your eyes so much, my love. They look so pretty in the light.”

He flutters his lashes and exhales shakily, dropping his hands above his head. He drags your body with it this way, forcing you to rest your weight on his hands and for your back to arch so you can reach him. It’s an easy task to reach him because he grows just a little to make it possible. He grinds against your sensitive spots like this. You feel so warm and tingly because of it, grinding on him slowly. It’s enough for the both of you to feel high on pleasure.

“Careful”, you chuckle, gazing into his eyes. They sparkle at you, looking up at you with total and adoring submission. You smile. “Do you like that?”

“Yeah”, he lets out and nods his head.

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“I’m yours”, Yoongi chokes out and trembles, having to moan because of it. Just saying these two words sends bolts of pleasure through him. He can’t describe how intense they feel, but he doesn’t want them to stop.

“You’re mine. That’s right”, you say, making him moan again.

He closes his eyes. You squeeze his hands.

“My love. Eyes.”

“Princess”, he mewls, peeling them open. They sparkle even more than before.

“That’s better. Yoongi, my love, Yoongi I love this so much.”

“Love it too”, he sighs and closes his eyes halfway.

“I love you, Yoongi Boongie.”

“My love”, he lets out, reaching up to hug you. He tugs you down with one arm around you and his other hand on the back of your head. Your face falls into the crook of his neck naturally, he lifts his head so he can find refuge in your own. He inhales deeply and as he exhales, trembles and whimpers your name.

He smells so good. Like his perfume, but also like his warmth. He smells like heaven, making you feel hazy in the best way. Your chests are touching, your tummies too. Like this, your clit is grinding against his skin, so moving your hips is difficult.

Yoongi takes over for you, moving into you in slow but deep rolls of his hips.

“Oh god”, you let out, twisting your hands in his hair, “Yoongi…”

“I love you”, he chokes out, “I love you so much. My love, my princess, my beloved”, he chants, chasing you with needy hips. He never goes too rough or fast. This was supposed to be slow and relaxing. And it is. You feel so relaxed and at peace, whilst at the same time trembling in pleasure. Only Yoongi gets you like this. Both calm yet trembling. Both comforted and yet ruffled. Only Yoongi manages to get you that good.

“I love you”, he gets out between breathy moans, “my only love.”

These words are precious to him. They’re not easy for him to speak, not because he doesn’t want to but because he is shy about them. But he wants to say them tonight. Over and over again. He wants to tell you that he loves you. The alcohol buzzing in his veins makes him feel brave, your presence does the rest. The walk on the beach runs through Yoongi’s mind. He never felt like this with someone before and he doesn’t want it to stop.

He pulls you closer and chases you with deep thrusts.

“I’m yours”, he gets out shakily, “I’m yours.”

“You’re mine. All mine.”

“Oh god”, his hips stutter. He whimpers and squeezes your body, “oh god.”

He sits up with you, lifting you off his cock for a bit. He crosses his leg.

“Put your legs around me”, he begs, “please.”

You follow and seconds later he sits you down on his cock. He goes slow, gazing up at you with hazy eyes. He made sure that he shrunk again to make it as comfortable as possible for you. He knows that he doesn’t need to grow into supernatural sizes to rock your world. And he loves that he doesn’t have to, because he loves fucking you with his normal cock. He can be inside you fully this way and there is nothing better in this world than to feel you all around him. You are so warm and soft. Yoongi loves it like nothing else.

“Ah”, you let out, cupping his cheeks.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, tracing his lips, “it just feels so good that it’s hard to accept that it’s real.”

His eyes race between yours. He bottoms out. His brows furrow and he whimpers quietly.

“I don’t want you to be a dream”, he confesses.

“What do you mean?”

“You feel like a dream. I’m scared you’re not real sometimes.”

“I’m real.”

“I know”, his eyes become glassy, “I’m yours forever.”

“And I’m yours”, you lean in and kiss his forehead, “forever.”

“Again.”

You kiss his forehead.

“That feels so good.”

“You’re so pretty. And so cute.”

“My love”, he gets out and hugs you against him. He hides away in the safety of your chest, giving your middle a strong squeeze. Despite his strength in the hug, it never hurts. He could never go too far with you, always making sure to treat you like the most fragile treasure he ever held. And you are. Perhaps not the most fragile of all, but you are most definitely his most precious one. The one which will always shine the brightest.

“I love this, my love. I love how deep you are”, you sigh, playing with his soft hair and feeling dizzy because of him. You grind back and forth on him, getting immense pleasure from it.

“My love”, he whispers shakily, “my love, I wanna be with you forever. Please promise me.”

“I promise, my beloved”, you sigh, squeezing him as tightly as he squeezes you.

“Thank you”, he croaks and shudders in a sob, “thank you so much, oh god I love you.”

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

“I’m so dizzy”, he sobs softly.

“Do you need a break?”

“No”, he looks up at you, stealing your breath from you. His eyes glisten in tears and yet the happiness in them is contagious, “kiss me. Please.”

You grand him his wish gladly, cradling his beautiful face between your hands with your hips connecting with his’ in slow rolls back and forth.

The kiss you share is intense. Not because you are sloppy or nasty with it, on the contrary you are both very civil in the way you kiss. Tongues are involved, eager lips too, but it is never sloppy. It is almost respectful, as if you didn’t want to soil the other. And yet it is still intense. Intense, because of how utterly fatal it is for your hearts. You are so goddamn connected. Holy fuck, you feel like one entity right now. Not two individuals, but one connected entity. This is goddamn insane.

Yoongi breaks the kiss, because he has to moan your name, followed by a shaky, “I’m sorry, I have to cum. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, just…I need a few more strokes. I’m so close.”

“I, I can touch your ass. Will it, it help?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Yoongi slides his long fingers to your rim and connects them with it. He begins rubbing circles on it instantly, applying pressure.

“More pressure, please.”

Yoongi listens and you moan, clasping his heated face in a way so that you can still twirl his bangs. They are sweaty and messy, hugging your digits tightly.

“Yes”, you moan, tightening around him, “Yoongi, this is making me cum.”

“I’m yours. Yours. Yours…nothing but yours”, Yoongi chants, staring at your face obsessively, “don’t stop, my love. Please don’t stop. I’m yours.”

“Holy fuck, oh god. Okay, it’s happening”, you writhe, tilting his head up so you can press your lips against his’. You want to kiss him as you orgasm and oh, how you kiss him. How wonderful you climax, how warm you feel, how hot you are burning up, how much you are shaking and how deep the pleasure crawls. His lips taste like heaven, his moans are honey to your ears and sugar to your tongue. This is truly what life is all about.

You break the heaven once your high calms down, slowing down your movements.

“This was amazing”, you sigh. Your head is turning like crazy, your vision is blurry.

Yoongi whimpers, squeezing your hips. You look at him even if is difficult so soon after such a high.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can I cum too? Please? I have to so bad.”

“What? Yoongs, I thought you already did. Why would you hold back?” you whine, “god, you silly kitty. Of course you can.”

You run your hands to his chest and begin massaging his nipples. Then you move your hips, picking up the same rhythm you had going on before. It is difficult to move because your body is ruined, but you want to do it for him. He deserves to feel as wonderful as you did.

“Like this? Do you like it like this?”

Yoongi throws his head back and gasps for air. His lips look so pretty when he parts them. He can’t tell you how much he loves it because he is currently losing himself to the pleasure. Freely and without any kind of fear. This is the most intense way of living he ever experienced and he hopes that it never stops.

“My beautiful love”, you rasp, clenching around him to make it more intense. Yoongi reacts in a throaty moan and his fingers dimpling your hips, “such a good boy, you’re doing so well. My beautiful love.”

“___, you’re making me cum”, Yoongi croaks and arches his back.

“Cum for me. Don’t hold back.”

“Thank you”, he gasps and breaks, shaking under you as his high hits him.

This is way more intense than his first one. It leaves him unbearably dizzy and even disoriented for a few seconds. He drops into your chest, hugging you without any sort of strength, “thank you”, he mewls, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

"Fuck Yoongi, you’re the best. Keep going, that’s amazing. Fill me up”, you talk him through it, playing with his hair and clenching around him.

Yoongi presses put one last “thank you” and then his body finally stops shaking.

He loses even more of his strength, leaning his weight into you and pressing out a weak little whimper. He follows it up with an incredibly polite and droopy, “thank you.”

“You’re so cute”, you say, hugging him close, “I love you.”

“I love you too”, he answers without hesitation and sighs deeply, “was so good.”

“It really was.”

You fall into comfortable silence afterwards, sharing warmth through a hug. It feels so nice to recover this way. To be so close with him and to hold him. This is the only way to recover after such an emotionally intense fuck.

You go to the toilet once you somehow found your strength and by the time you return, Yoongi has already cleaned up. He is sitting on the bed with his eyes glued to you and no clothes on. You are so proud of him, enjoying the view with a racing heart. He is so pretty. Especially when he looks as ruined from good sex as he does right now. He is glowing so much.

You share his state, glowing just as much.

“You are so handsome, my love”, you say, strutting to him, “you are glowing so much.”

“I feel”, he hesitates and looks at his own hands, “I don’t feel ugly”, he decides to say in the end and lifts his head to gaze at you.

“I’m so happy for you”, you say, placing yourself between his legs and hooking your arms behind his head. You can play with his ruffled hair this way, ruffling it up even more, “you are so, so pretty and it’s amazing that you feel like agreeing today.”

He nods his head, running his hands up and down your waist.

“I think that you are the most beautiful person”, he says and runs his eyes over your body, “yeah, is what I think. It’s true. A law. Yeah. Law of nature. Hm.”

You snicker, “well, thank you, my love. It’s a law of nature too that you are the most beautiful”, you coo and giggle, leaning down to smooch his forehead.

He accepts it with closed eyes and a fluttering tummy. You step back, running your palms back and forth on his soft cheeks. It makes him pout naturally. He looks up at you with his fingers drawing circles on your hips.

“I leaked so much on the toilet right now”, you tell him, “you were seriously pumping me full of it, weren’t you?”

He lowers his eyes shyly, “I felt good. Was happy. I couldn’t help it.”

“Don’t apologise, I loved it”, you drop into the sheets next to him, “I’m so drunk, holy fuck my head’s turning.”

“Mine too, yeah.”

You chuckle and so does he. He reaches for your hand, holding it tightly. You squeeze him right back, gazing up at him with sparkly eyes. He mirrors the love you feel.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks like he always does. He wants to make sure that you are comfortable. This question will always fall after sex, no matter what you did and how you did it.

“No, you didn’t. I was very comfortable”, you assure him, “did I hurt you?”

“No. I felt nice.”

“Good, that’s very good. It made me happy to hear I love you from you so often”, you confess.

“I feel this way about you”, he says, looking at your intertwined hands shyly, “I wanna try to say it more when sober, but I’m awkward. Please don’t think I don’t feel this way when I struggle with it again.”

“Gosh Yoongi my love, I hope I didn’t make you feel guilty right now. Of course I don’t think that you don’t love me when you don’t say it a lot. I feel incredibly loved by you even without words. I just thought that you were especially cute tonight because you said it so often.”

“Okay”, he says and smiles timidly, “thank you for understanding. I feel so much for you.”

“Me too, my love.”

He squeezes your hand and then looks at you.

“Can I show you something?” he asks.

“Hmm? Of course you can.”

“Stay here, I’m getting something.”

“Okay?”

He leaves the room in nothing but his shirt. It’s long enough that it covers his butt and makes his legs look skinny. He looks cute that way. He returns after a few moments, carrying his guitar. He closes the door and locks it. He grins at you.

“There are people awake already. I heard them downstairs, but I kept quiet. I don’t wanna exist for the others”, he says as he hurries back to bed.

He sits down cross-legged, resting his guitar on his lap.

“Are you going to play?” you ask him, shimmying closer and crossing your legs. You are face to face with him that way.

“I wanna show you something. I’ll cry if you laugh at me”, he says and lowers his head to the guitar. He begins playing, filling the air with gentle melodies.

“Oh Yoongi”, you get out and seconds later you feel too overwhelmed to speak.

Yoongi begins singing, doing so with his eyes closed and his head tilted to the side slightly. He breaks up the singing with slow rapping, doing that with his brows furrowed in concentration.

And you are too stunned to speak. Your heart races like crazy and your skin is covered in goosebumps. He can sing. Yoongi can actually sing! He sings the song he wrote for you all those months ago. You recognise parts of the lyrics. He added so much more story to it, so much more love and beauty. He is really singing a song for you. Something he wrote from the bottom of his heart. Just for you. Wow. You are crying even before Yoongi finishes the song. This is the best thing you ever experienced.

Yoongi ends the song by strumming on his guitar. He plucks the last three notes then strums one last time and hits the body of the guitar softly as he relaxes his hand.

Silence for a second. He lifts his head halfway and then you are already around his neck.

“Yoongi!” you squeak and sob uncontrollably, “I love you so much. This was so beautiful and, and you are so talented and oh god”, you bury your tear-stained face in the crook his neck, “I love you. I love you so, so much!”

“Did you like it?” he asks in a whisper.

“Did I like it? Yoongi. I loved it!” you squeeze him, “holy moly, this is the most romantic, most beautiful, most amazing-tastic thing someone has ever done for me. I love you so much! Oh god, you are so talented, please don’t ever stop being so amazing. I love you so much.”

He smiles shyly, closing his eyes, “I love you too”, he whispers, feeling his tummy flutter like crazy.

“Now please, please play it again. Please, my love. I cried so much I, I barely took it in. Please one more time.”

“Okay, but please don’t laugh.”

He feels so alive when he is with you and in return so do you.

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