m = mature content
I should be scared, running away letting my feet pound into the earths body while my own pants for air.
This was one of those situations where your mind and heart fight, their limbs entangling and twisting in a gruesome battle to the death.
Yoongi has emotions, maybe he doesn't have humanity, but he feels something too.
I won't be like all those scientists, with their arrogance and pride in their veins, never understanding the mind of the person they are inflicting pain onto so carelessly.
His wings feel so soft, the feathers are like cotton bending underneath my fingerprints and engraving thoughts and memories in my brain. My feet pad the floor beneath us, I can see his muscles tense when I walk behind his stature. The fear slowly dissolves when I close my eyes to caress his wings and the feathers adorning them so beautifully; so perfectly.
They stretch long and wide, bigger then my body put together three times. I can feel the resent and hatred on his skin as it leaks like blood onto my body. I find myself losing my sanity when I step closer, and touch softer. I want to heal the wounds on his body, to feel him ease and smile. I want the edges of his eyes to scrunch in the sunlight, and to see his body doubling over clutching his stomach from laughter. I know how cruel his world has been, I can feel the memories and footage falling and crackling into the palms of my hands. I look, helplessly clutching onto him for just an ounce of joy, the emotion that makes you happy, but in his world; I see none.
Insanity, that's what I've fallen into.
Or at least, that's what the world would depict of me. Picking my brain, sputtering forsaken words from their tongues. That's when I rest my forehead onto the crevice of his back, between each of his wings.
"I won't give up on you."
My faint whispers trail down his spine, and for the first time since he's shown himself to me, I feel his muscles relax in defeat and safety. I know the uncertainty is walking on his bones still, but my fingertips tracing the details of engravings and spirals on his upper chest calm him so the uncertainty isn't there anymore. He turns around, surrendering his wings behind his back again, even though they rest there in the daylight, a part of me misses the soft crystal night feathers caressing my palms. I look into his eyes, nothing but hardness cracking along the irises, like winter ice. When he breathes out words, the ice breaks and I feel the cool water soothing my burning skin.
"Can I pleasure you?"
Normally, I would be flustered, and a part of me still is, with the pink heat on my face and nose. But oddly, I don't hesitate or stutter my answer, feeling entranced and drawn to his soft skin.
"Please."
It was one of those occurrences where your jaw drops in awe, and your heart pounds in your chest from the connection felt. He droops his eyelids, fluttering to my lips, then back to my eyes. He brings his head down, ghosting his breath over the corner of my mouth. When he places an open-mouthed kiss there, my eye lids close around my eyes, welcoming the darkness and wanting to feel only his touch. His breath seeps from his lips and entangles with mine when he holds my head in-between his hands, feeling my skin like a gentle breeze.
No other words were needed when I felt his warm tongue dangerously caress mine. His hands slide around my waist, pulling my body closer to his, and I press my lips closer, wanting, needing more.
His kiss is addicting, like his drug.
But no powder could compare to the heavy toxin that is him.
And when I feel my lips tingle with excitement, I realize that I want Yoongi to overtake me, for his body to bend into mine and to feel the ecstasy of his touch burning and sizzling into my bones. His fingertips draw pink traces of heat wherever they go, as he peels each piece of clothing from my skin, I feel more open and vulnerable. His tongue burns my skin, while his lips create blue and purple cherry blossoms on the crevice of my neck. We both become needy, wanting more and more; no matter what it takes. Our breaths start to become heavy, laced with lust.
I start to anticipate, every touch, every breath.
When I glance into his eyes, I see they are as dark as the night sky, swirling with stars and galaxies. I feel his sense of control starting to crumble beneath my fingertips, but no fear took ahold of my body.
I grumble out in surprise when his nails gently scrape up my legs and he carefully squeezes my ass. Such an action would make me crawl up in fear, but he makes me a different person. I went from a plain pure daisy, to a bloody crimson rose.
And I can't help but love every second.
I kiss trails of heat down his shoulder, and he throws his head back, a breathy moan escaping his swollen lips. My ears tingle at the sound, more beautiful than any symphony could create. And deeper than the ocean, past all the dark life and colorful corals. Sparks of heat flood to my core, making me close my eyes and twist my lip between my teeth in concentration. He bends his fingertips into the flesh of my thighs, so harsh that for a moment I think our DNA was one; curling and pulsing together. My rationality yells at me for doing such vulgar and unreasonable things, but my rationality can't feel the pleasure sizzling up my spine.
I can feel his blood pounding throughout his body, I look around his face worried that something might be wrong, when I see him clenching his jaw open and shut, and how his face is a bubbling red from restraint I realize that I need to push him.
"Let go, I'm not afraid."
He squeezes my ass harder, digging his fingertips into the flesh delicately. Resting his forehead on my shoulder, I see his struggle inside and out, his eyes flickering from dark to pure; each side begging for release.
"I can't fuck you, not yet."
His words cause frustration to boil in the pit of my stomach, my muscles clenching and winding for attention; something, anything.
"Why not?"
He slams his palm onto the wall next to my head, his breath quickening and the veins down his neck bulging. Sweat trickles down his neck, and small beads are acquainting his temples. You can see the battle between his two sides coming out, but despite all of these things happening to him, not for one moment do I feel horror sneaking through my skin.
"Because you're not ready yet, I have to build up your tolerance."
My mind twists and flies in every direction, my tolerance? I can't seem to think straight, especially when his tongue traces lazy circles around the flowers he planted on my sensitive skin.
"What do you mean exactly?"
Resting his other hand next to my head, he lags his head away from my neck and lifts it up looking into my eyes. I inhale at the sight of his normal eyes, it seems he has better control than I thought. But then again he is, Min Yoongi.
"I mean, if I fuck you senseless here and now against the wall, you wouldn't be able to handle all of the sensations. So every day I have to build up each specific sense you have until your ready."
My eyes widen with realization, so that's what he meant. Part of me is angry that I have to wait, feeling my core pulsate sensitively and being needy between my legs. But then again, I don't know what will happen to me. But I can see the flicker of mischief in his eyes at my obvious frustration. I try and hide it but that only causes a dim fire to light up in his irises.
"We should work on your tolerance."
Heat trickles down the back of my neck, every word and thought in my mind trying to deny what he means; what I know he means. Instead I stay quiet, listening to the peaceful sound of our blood pumping through our veins like wildlife. But that peace is easily shattered into a million pieces when he moves to rest on his knees. I want to ask, to figure out what he could possibly be doing, but we both know that I'm not that innocent. Tracing his palms along the skin of my stomach, fire ignites wherever he touches, making me lose my sanity.
And unexpected gasp leaves my throat, dancing on my vocal chords violently when I feel two of his fingers slide into my core. He massages slowly, back and fourth like a ticking clock and my hands unconsciously slide to the silver roots of his hair. He bites his lip in determination, and part of me feels bad for taking out all of the awaited pleasure on his poor scalp. But any thought I had about his scalp disintegrated in his palms the moment he dove another finger deep into my throbbing core. Multiple profanities leave my lips and fly into the fresh air, influencing every move and touch that happens. Clenching my teeth together I hiss when he goes slower; achingly slower. Whines leave my throat and I never even thought I would find myself pleading, begging for more.
That's when white tingles fringe along the outsides of my thighs. Flowers delicately bloom along each fragment and piece of my body, lighting a path of pink ice wherever they choose. The amount of ecstasy lining my mind makes me feel like a beautiful sunset, the moon kissing the edge of the ocean delicately and bending onto the flesh of the saltwater. The night sky awakens my mind, and my body buzzes with the aftertaste of his soft lips. I start to calm down, my chest heaving and Yoongi releases his fingers from inside of me, bringing them to his mouth and sucking off each finger and piercing my eyes while he does it, causing more heat to ensue along my pulsating core.
"I've never felt anything like that in my life."
His face sparks with the same mischief I saw before, and I heave my body up, wanting to go and sleep in my bed after that amazing and exhausting experience. Scattering my eyes to look for my panties, I turn my body away from Yoongi for a moment to squint my eyes and try to locate the garment. But sear of pain on my bottom from his palm and a looming presence behind my blushing skin brings me back to that familiar toxin I know all too well.
"You still have five more to go."