Scaramouche 🌶 Y/n (m 4 a)

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🌸: Fluff
💧: Angst
🌶: Spicy
🫀: Yandere

Note:
There is slight angst at the last part.
I went full on figurative on this one
Still, no kids allowed
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 I went full on figurative on this oneStill, no kids allowed————————————————————

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"Addicted"

            His touches were addicting, like velvet caressing their body. His gentle and degrading voice drowns them in a bottomless pit of wine. His eyes of blueish purple hues lights a fire within that heats up the room as he looks deep onto their e/c eyes, teared up and in bliss, as if in a trance. Their lips were as red as a rose, much like their crimsoned face, red in ecstasy and lust, and they knew that those indigo eyes of his will continue to stare at every piece of skin, every little patch of red and little teeth marks that bear no blood, as he takes in their submission like hard liquor.

            "You're beautiful like this," he whispered, licking the outer shell of their ear. "Really, really beautiful." He starts to thrust once more, as if one round was not enough, and boy did he take his time savoring the sweet sounds of an angel, intoxicated with his tainting hands, like a devil who placed his mark.
             His eyes close, savoring the taste of their moans in his ear, like an entire dessert bar all to his liking. Their lips shiver at his peppering lips as his hands caress their body like it was the softest thing in the world. But this love was not all pink and flowery, relationships were not at all just vanilla. In fact, he thought of love as anything his pallet adores. And love was you.

              His thrust speed up by the second, mere thrusting became a memory, he was pistoning, pounding, rutting into their body while his lover laid completely and utterly immobile with the way the pleasure interferes with their brainwork, as if they had overdose themselves until their brain was a puddle, a homogeneous mixer that can no longer separate.
They hold on to him like a lifeline, as holding onto him would somehow keep their little pinky attached to the world, and the rest be drowned in pleasure. He smirks at the sight, the alluring angel under him writhing in pleasure crash per crash.

"You're near aren't you?"

The knot makes itself evident, like a closed fist forced to be opened, like butterflies wanting to burst out from their stomach.

"Don't worry, I am too."

          It hurts.

"Cum for me."

          It hurts so much, this pleasure obtain by his silly little ministrations landed a critical hit, when his voice lovingly precedes it, that they couldn't help but let that dangling string be severed, and their high reached as if everything was all a blur.
"Good, good... I'll cum too..."They marvel under him, becoming a puddle at his embrace, exhausted as they felt that he too reached that climax, chanting their name like a mantra...


Y/n, I'm almost there
Y/n, hold on a little longer.
Y/n, I'm cumming.
Y/n,
Y/n
Y/n!

...biting hard on their shoulder as they felt it crash like a wave on their walls, his essence.

And when he opened his eyes, he sees his lover, smiling with half-lidded eyes. His mouth makes way to theirs, kissing from their neck to their lips; again, savoring the taste of their lips as if it was their last meal on death row.

"I love you..." Y/n whispered until they were out like a light.

Y/n, Y/n, the one who makes him feel weak on the knees, but makes him strong; the one with flesh like nicotine and scented sweet.
But even so, he could never say those three words back.

Because he knew, they'd get addicted just as he was to them, and when the time comes that his strings will be severed, lying as cold as wintry winds and life-fleeting like fall, rehabilitation can't cure them no more.

So he keeps his words to himself and slept with their head on his chest.

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