#token x reader

[shouyuus]

thinking about making out with hawks and his scruff tickling your skin when he shifts his mouth down to suck big, wet hickeys against your neck, you pulling at his hair giggling and groaning at the same time, him pulling back with a lazy grin and hooded eyes like "hm"? but when you tell him that his scruff is tickling you, all he does is blink before leaning down to purposefully rub it against your face, making you squeal and try to squirm away but he's fast, way faster than you, so he'd pin you to his side and nuzzle you till you're breathless with laughter, chest heaving --

how he'd go still, relax his hold on you till he's just holding you in his lap, his eyes soft as he watches you.

"what?" you ask, reaching up to thumb at the scraggly bits of hair on his chin.

"nothin'. just... like lookin' at you, that's all."

when you crinkle your nose and try to hide your face, he bends down to tug your arms away, nuzzling his nose against yours with a soft groan, "goddamnit you're so fuckin' cute..." before melding his mouth to yours once more and kissing you deep enough to sting.

when he pulls back this time, both of you are breathless and he's got that dark, half-focused look in his eyes that makes your stomach clench in anticipation -- when he hoists you up into his arms and makes for the bedroom, you loop your arms around his shoulders and all he says is --

"well, let's go see if your thighs are as ticklish as your neck is."

[babextoken]

♡ Let’s Fuck Her Up ♡

There’s nothing wrong with an innocent game of truth or dare among roommates…unless they’re two guys who seem to have massive crushes on you and each other.

Vessel x IV x F!Reader

Smut, M/M/F threesome, Bi!Token, praise, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, finger sucking, some spanking, reader is yanked around like a fleshlight, p in v (pretend we talked about birth control prior), and they were roommates

A/N: a ✨ beloved mutual ✨ once said “hey what about a truth or dare fic” and then I was struck by lightning in Best Buy with this idea. Also I took to just naming them Ves and Ivy in this for my mental health.

You’re laying on the couch. Mindlessly scrolling. Completely zoned out from whatever Ves and Ivy are talking about. 20 minutes ago it was all “yeah let’s go out oi oi” and all that but no one had any good ideas. Well. You did! But of course, the “boys club” always overruled you. You knew there were risks involved rooming with two guy best friends—either they treated you like a helpless little girl that needed defending and items retrieved from high spots or like you were the neighborhood girl their respective parents had guilted them into inviting. Suddenly, you hear your name and a snap.

“What?! Jesus.” You say rolling your eyes as Ivy tries to get your attention.

“I asked you something…”

“She’s checked out, man,” Ves says chuckling.

“Yeah yeah, fine. I’ll ask again. Truth or dare?” Ivy asks with his elbows on his knees as he leans forward on the loveseat across from you. Ves shakes his head and stifles a laugh, whispering “you wanker” in reference to Ivy’s mischievous grin.

You snort and decide to play along just to prove how stupid of an idea this is. How old are we?

“Fine. Truth.”

Ivy taps his chin as if he doesn’t already have a question in mind. “Which of us is the best looking?”

“Me. Easy.” You say straightfaced. It’s incredibly satisfying to watch Ivy’s shit-eating grin melt into a scowl. Ves pats him on the back as if to say “there there big guy.”

“Well…ok…but…” Ivy sputters.

“You actually disagree with her, Ivy?”

“What? No, I mean, come on…apples…apples and oranges mate.”

“So why’d you ask her? That’s literally the same question you asked her.” Ves asks with an exasperated laugh, flailing his arm a bit.

You’re watching them banter and the same suspicion creeps up in the back of your mind. There’s something more there. Maybe. The way they look at each other. The little nudges. That’s not just chemistry…that’s not just…being playful.

“Boys boys boys,” you interrupt. They both look at you. “Ves…truth or dare?”

The taller man blushes a little. Maybe he didn’t actually want to play this game and thought Ivy was being a prick. Maybe he just couldn’t believe you were playing along. He shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. “Dare.”

You catch Ivy’s eye and realize you’re both chuckling at Ves’s willingness to take on a dare. A tiny moment. Another one of those times where you think, “is this something?”

“Alright…I dare you toooooo…hmm…read us your most recent sexts.” You laugh but the boys don’t. You expected Ves’s reaction—rolling his eyes and rubbing his temples—but you didn’t expect Ivy’s blush. Or him fidgeting a little. “Uhm…”

Ves shrugs. “I don’t sext.”

“Oh. Well…”

He snorts. “I’m fucking with you.” He fishes his phone out of his pocket as Ivy watches him with great interest. What is this? There has to be something going on. He unlocks his phone and scrolls a bit. “Ok…it says…” he scrolls some

more, “it says ‘you should have your lips around me instead.” And with that he locks the phone and puts it back in his pocket. He looks over at Ivy as if he’s sizing him up. You feel like you shouldn’t be here.

“Truth or Dare, Ive?”

Ivy rolls his eyes as if the game he decided they should play is the stupidest thing ever. “Truth, I guess.”

Ves responds immediately. “Tell her what you said about the last guy she brought over.”

Oop. Ivy’s eyebrows furrow, and you feel your stomach drop a bit. The last guy you had over was pretty sweet but didn’t seem quick to move forward. You still talk to him and go out sometime.

Ivy pinches the bridge of his nose and answers. He knows he needs to be a good sport for his own game.

“I said he was a loser.”

“And?”

Ivy groans. “And a simp.”

“What’s wrong with being a simp?” You ask with play seriousness.

“You need someone who doesn’t have to be pathetic to get your attention. Not some lost idiot.”

You laugh with a scoff. “Takes one to know one?”

Ivy throws a small pillow in your general direction and you toss it back when it falls near you. He dodges it and grabs the pillow Ves had been holding. He’s ready to start a pillow fight as you shriek and giggle as he comes toward you when Ves says “alright alright, Ivy it’s your turn.” Ivy lands a soft thump of the pillow against your side before sitting by Ves again.

“Fine. Sour puss. Alright princess, truth or dare?”

Your cheeks are still warm from the silliness and adrenaline. You gather your nerves and…

“Dare.”

Ivy nods and thinks for a second before looking back at Ves. Some unspoken boy conversation going on between them.

“Let us guess what color panties you have on. If neither of us can, you get bragging rights. If one of us guesses correctly…you have to prove it.”

Both men are looking at you like your word is law. They’re hanging on the edge on your every word. Waiting. Like good boys. Wait no stop that. You sigh and stand up, doing a little twirl. “Alright, do your worst.”

“Black” they both blurt out, straightfaced.

Fuck. You shouldn’t be surprised but here you are scoffing and rolling your eyes. You loop your thumbs under your shorts and pull them down enough to let them see your black boyshorts. “Congrats on guessing one of the most common underwear colors. Alright. Ivy. Truth or dare?”

“But it’s my turn!” Ves interjects.

“Dare.” Ivy snaps back calmly. The tension is building.

“Give Ves a little kiss.”

There’s a lengthy, heavy pause. Ivy huffs out a little laugh. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Ivy and Ves lean towards each other and you feel a pulse deep deep inside you. Ves crooks his finger under Ivy’s chin as their lips meet. Seconds feel like an eternity. Ivy cups Ves’s face and gently caresses the taller man’s cheekbone with his thump. Your breath catches in uncomfortable shock but your synapses are firing like crazy. They’ve done this before. And it’s so hot. It is so clear just how into each other they are as one kiss ends and Ivy immediately initiates another. At one point Ves gently bites Ivy’s bottom lip, and Ivy chuckles as he pushes Ves back a little. Not out of disgust…but more like “not here, not now at least”

Ivy looks at you as he runs his fingers through his blonde hair and licks his lips. You barely register that you’ve actually slipped off your shorts while watching your roommates make out. “You cool doing a dare,” he asks, nodding up at you.

You nod wordlessly. Your breath is coming heavier.

“Good girl. I dare you…”

He looks at Ves but his eyes are taking in every single inch of your body. Ivy lets out a dry chuckle and looks back to saying, “I dare you to sit in Ves’s lap.”

You look at Ves for some kind of reassurance or “gotcha” reaction, but instead he beckons you forward and pats his lap. As if in a trance you walk towards him and shyly straddle his lap. His hands gently tug you by the hips.

“There she is…” Ves whispers as he looks up at you and moves your hair off your shoulders. Ivy scoots closer and puts his arm around Ves.

“Look at her on your thighs…” Ivy says without breaking his gaze from your body.

“I know. Like an angel.”

“Mm like a queen.”

“Ah…yeah…a queen. On her throne. Aren’t you?”

You know you look dumb right now because you feel dumb. “Wha-…”

They both giggle at your adorable confusion. Ivy starts toying with the strap of your tank top as Ves kneads your hips and love handles. Ves lets his head rest back on the couch as his hands go under your shirt.

“Is it ok if he does that, babes” Ivy asks softly as he brushes your hair behind your ears before pulling down your tank strap.

You nod, “…yeah. I…I like it.”

“Good. I do, too” Ves says as he lifts your shirt a little. You instinctively suck in your stomach but both guys protest. Ivy caresses your tummy with his fingertips and hums happily. “She’s too cute,” Ves says as he lets one of his hands drift up to cup your face. His thumb rubs over your lips, and your tongue pokes out to touch it. You taste his skin as his long thumb presses past your lips. You let out a small moan which elicits reverent coos and sighs from the guys.

“You like how he tastes, princess?” Ivy asks as his hands smooth over your back and ass. He leans close to your ear… “you should really try his cock. If you like his thumb that much…” he plants tiny kisses on your neck… “then imagine how wet you’ll get when you’re deep throating him.”

You moan and move your head to kiss Ivy. His plump lips press against you in the most delicious yet agonizingly tender way. Ves moans as he watches and circles your nipple under your tank with his thumb…still wet from playing with your tongue. Ivy palms your other breast through your tank top as you grasp at his thick, delicious body. He moans gently and relishes in finally…finally kissing you. You’ve always thought he was sweet and gentle. Listening to you vent, ruffling your hair when you’re being silly or even when he’s proud. So kissing him was like coming home. A hug.

Ves’s free hand trails up Ivy’s chest and rests at his neck. You pull away reluctantly from your friend’s lips…only to lean down and kiss your other friend.

If kissing Ivy was tender and soft, kissing Ves was frantic and needy. Between the two of them, you’ve felt the most sexual tension with Ves. You often end up spending a lot of alone time together. Just scrolling or watching something mindless. It’s not that you don’t talk…it’s comfortable silence. And glances. So many stolen glances. But now he’s holding your hips tight and pressing you against his toned body like you might disappear. Ivy groans softly as he watches you two, his lovers.

“She’s sweet, isn’t she, babe?” Ivy whispers to Ves as you feel your shirt being going over your head.

Ves pulls back from the kiss to get your shirt off and bites his lip as he ogles your chest. “Like fucking sugar,” he says breathlessly. He pulls you close and licks a long line up up your chest, making you moan with your head back. Ivy turns your face to him and nuzzles your nose with his as Ves starts kissing and sucking at your tits.

“Ivy…mm..please…” you whimper…willing him to touch you.

“Use your words, sugar,” Ves growls, “tell Ivy what you want. You’ll love it…he’ll make you feel so good.”

Ivy chuckles as you tug at his hand. “Touch me…please…I need you…” you groan… “take care of me.”

Both Ves and Ivy make cute satisfied little sounds as Ivy’s thick fingers slide under your boyshorts. You gasp as he finds your clit and blush with embarrassment at just how good it feels to have him touch you as Ves sucks your nipples. Your fingers tangle in Ves’s hair and your teeth clench as Ivy moves to trace your slit. You sit up a little to give him more room but the angle is weird…and you’ve never had two men pawing at you before. You’ve never been shared. The pad of Ivy’s middle finger playfully taps at your entrance. This whole time he’s been kissing and nipping at your neck but now he moves his lips to your ear.

“You’re a needy girl, aren’t you? You like doing this, hm? Being in the center of attention?” He whispers as he ghosts over your clit again. You whimper as he pulls his coated fingers from your folds. “Fuck she’s hot. Ves…”

Ves briefly looks up and quickly pulls away from your breast when Ivy offers him his finger. You watch as Ivy traces his finger around Ves’s lips before Ves takes the finger into his mouth. He takes a sharp breath and moans as he holds Ivy’s hand steady as your essence off him. God you want to just stare. Seeing the way Ves looks up with eager eyes and the way Ivy just lets him clean his fingers breaks your brain. You feel like a chained up bitch in heat. You want to play. You want to be your normal, slutty enthusiastic self…to show them what you can do…how you can make them feel. But you feel intimidated. Sensing your discomfort, Ves pulls you close. When he disengages from Ivy’s hand, he buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent and biting you gently.

“It’s a bit much, yeah? A lot to take in,” Ves says softly as he trails kisses on your collarbone. “Do you want to keep going?”

You can barely think. On one hand you have no idea what this means for the dynamic afterwards, on the other…if you don’t cum tonight you might actually combust. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”

You feel Ivy pulling you off Ves’s lap and against his nude torso. You were so wrapped up in Ves marking you that you didn’t hear Ivy get undressed. He pulls you down to the floor and lays you down. You look up and see Ves slipping off his tshirt before laying beside you.

“He’s going to take such good care of you, sugar,” Ves says almost teasingly as he kisses your temple. “You’re gonna cum all over Ivy’s fingers and pretty face.”

Ves’s hand slides down to your now bare pussy and gently circles your clit before carefully spreading your lips to give Ivy better access.

“Fuck…Ves…”

“Ah Ves you should see how her pussy clenches when you touch her. Fuck you’re getting her ready for me” Ivy says right against your clit. He flicks his tongue sharply against it, making you jolt. Ves responds by kissing your cheeks and cooing words of praise.

“Yeah he’s good with his tongue, huh, babygirl? Do you like what he’s doing?”

You feel your pussy quiver against Ivy’s face as he alternates between licking and sucking your clit. Ivy reaches up to play with your tits. Ves caresses Ivy’s arm as your nipple is lightly pinched. You moan and try to lift your head to kiss Ves…or get his attention at least. His eyes are glued to your slick cunt and the gorgeous man eating it out. Ivy must be looking back because you see Ves blow a little kiss before he turns his attention to you. You reach up to him and finally get to m pull him in for a sweet kiss. Ivy moans into your pussy and adds two fingers. As he rubs your sensitive bundle from the inside you break the kiss and moan against Ves’s lips.

“Ves…Ivy…I…I…don’t—“

Ivy stops when he hears this. Both men are concerned about you when you whimper like that. Ivy lays atop you, his still clothed bulge pressing against your hot cunt.

“I don’t…know how to cum unless I do it myself.” You say blushing profusely. “It’s not that easy for me to just…let go.”

Ves pets your hair as Ivy softly kisses your collarbone. “Then you call the shots, love. What do you need? What would you like?” Ivy asks softly before he gently teeths your ear lobe.

“I need to get fucked.”

Ivy and Ves share a pleasantly surprised look. They thought for sure you’d say you needed a breather but here you were asking to be dicked down by your two closest guy friends. Ves leans in to kiss Ivy before whispering “you’re already on top of her…you go first, handsome.”

Your pussy throbs watching them kiss right in front of you. Ivy cradles Ves’s face so tenderly you feel like you’re intruding, but you quickly feel apart of the moment when Ivy begins tracing lazy circles on your tummy. Ves’s kisses trail down Ivy’s cheek to his neck, and you take the opportunity to sit up. Shyly, you reach out and touch Ivy’s bulge through his shorts. He lets out a sharp moan as you stroke the length. It’s thick, and you can already imagine the stretch that would come from taking it completely. Ivy gently pushes your hand away.

“You’re too good at that, babe. Mm slow down.”

You chuckle softly and start kissing the other side of Ivy’s neck. He groans whinly. “Oh fuck you both…mm…‘snot fair.” Ves chuckles and moves his kisses to your cheeks. “Yeah there we go. Let’s pick on our girl” Ivy says as he dive bombs the other side of your neck. You squirm and moan as they both kiss, suck, and bite at your neck. Ves moves to you close to him as he lays back on the floor. You’re positioned like you’re going to ride him but you hear Ivy taking his shorts off behind you.

“Ivy’s going to fuck you now…yeah? Can you handle that for us, baby?”

You swallow hard and whimper as your feel the head of Ivy’s cock tease your entrance.

“She wants it, Ves. You should feel it.”

“Oh yeah,” Ves asks with a bemused expression as his unceremoniously reaches down and fingers you.” Mmm. Yeah…you are awfully wet…and you’re practically trying to suck my fingers in.”

Ves removes his fingers but you don’t feel empty for long. Ivy presses against your pussy and presses in with delicious restraint. He’s big and you’re tight. It’s been a little since you’ve been fucked from behind so it takes a second for you to regain some brain power after Ivy’s cock finally caresses your gspot. You feel yourself clench on him and a gentle spank.

“She’s gonna make me lose it, Ves. She’s so tight.”

“Mm yeah? She gonna milk you dry?”

You moan and try to relax but it’s hard when they talk about you like you’re not here. How they praise you and flirt with each other.

“If I’m not careful, yeah…she just might.” Ivy spanks you again. “You’re gonna love her Ves…well…love her more.”

Your brain feels fuzzy as you look down at Ves as holds your hips still for Ivy. Ivy starts rolling his hips into you…the stretch and friction is incredible. You feel like you’re on fire and itching an in impossible scratch.

“Mm. Such a good girl. We just love you…don’t we Ive?” Ves asks as he stares up at you. Ivy can’t answer the question directly.

“God…fuck…finally…finally…such a good girl…fucking love you, babygirl.”

You cry out as you press against Ivy for a deeper fuck. “I…love you…Ivy…fuck…aaahh GOD baby.” Your climax ripples through you as he keeps you in place for his boyfriend. “Fuck. FUCK. I love you both.”

Ivy’s breath hitches and he grabs for Ves’s hand. Ves looks up at you sweetly and says, “Ivy’s gonna cum inside you. Ok? Such a good girl to take his cum. And then…I’m going to fuck his cum and my cum so deep in you that you won’t sit right tomorrow. And we’ll have to take care of you…sweet princess. Someone will have to kiss that pretty pussy better when we’re done. Would you like that? For your boys to take care of you and pamper you all day? All the fingers and cocks and…”

“Shut up Ves…I’m not gonna last long if you don’t…fuck…hnng.” Ivy desperately fucks into you. He’s holding back, you can tell. The pace is measured and careful…and so fucking hot. Ves winks and flashes a wicked grin.

“I’m just having a conversation with our girl. That’s all…” Ves starts moves hands to your breasts and presses hot, wet kisses on each one. You feel another orgasm clench Ivy’s cock.

“Ivy! You’re so….fucking big….” You cry out as you become overstimulated.

“Nah baby…fuck…fuck…you’re fucking right…god Ves, she’s so tight. You’re gonna love it….”

“Ivy cum for me…please,” you beg. Your confidence is growing, and since Ves isn’t holding your hips anymore, you fuck Ivy right back. You feel his wide hand press into the middle of your back, making you fall against Ves. Ivy cries out your name and moans out in whines as he coats your womb with his cum. Your pussy clenches hard like it’s desperate for more.

Ves breathes heavily after holding you as Ivy fucked you and made you his for the moment. “I don’t know if I’ll last long,” he says pathetically. “You two are so hot together.”

Ivy pulls out of you and comes to your side. You two share a deep kiss and stare into each others eyes for a bit.

“You’re so good,” you whisper to him.

“That’s you, girl.” He gives him a quick kiss. “Now let’s play with Ves.” Ivy pats you to get off Ves and he tells Ves to sit on the couch. Ves obeys and takes off his sweats. His cock is hard and twitching for both of you. He sits on the couch, and you straddle him once again. Ivy guides your hips and sets you down on Ves’s cock…slowly…slowly…slowly…

You moan and whimper as you’re stretched once again. Ivy was definitely thicker, but Ves had length and a slight bend that felt so yummy inside you.

“Fffuuuuccckk…Ves…baby…” your voice is barely coming out.

“Move her,” Ves whispers to Ivy as he plays with your nipples.

“Alright…work with me, babygirl, yeah? You want him to bust for your pussy?” Ivy whispers huskily from behind you as he starts to move your hips up and down. He has you bouncing on Ves’s cock…he’s in control. Ves’s fingers press roughly into your plush hips so hard you can feel the bruises blossoming.

“God you’re so perfect…such a fucking queen…” Ves whispers as he pulls you close for warm, desperate kisses. “Ivy…Ivy…I need to fuck her.”

Ivy lets go of your hips, and Ves immediately repositions so he can fuck up into you. Ivy has to cover your mouth as the most obscene moans and whimpers leave your pretty lips.

“You’re gonna be mine, too, baby. You’re gonna be so full from me and Ivy. So much love in your pussy…such a good…fucking…fuck….FUCK.” Ves cums inside you and keeps fucking through his climax. You both and breathing heavily…like you might hyperventilate. Ivy helps you off Ves’s lap and sits you on the couch between them. Ivy clings to your back as Ves moves to hug you. You turn your head as the two men press needy kisses on you, letting it become a slow, sensual kiss between the three of you.

[twice-in-a-blue-moon]

when solomon has sex with you for the first time, he makes sure to absolutely worship your body. during the first kiss scene with him, he said he's been waiting for a chance to do it. so with this, he's going to make sure his patience will pay off. not an inch of your skin will be unloved by him. it may have taken so long, but the end result will be perfect as the two of you are satisfied, love growing by the second

(Ooh, thank you for the food, anon!! Solomon's first kiss scene will forever have my heart) Reader is GN! :)

Minors DNI!

"Why don't you come just a little closer?"

You shift a little closer until there's no space between you two on the bed, and his lips are back on yours. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, softly rubbing his thumb along to solidify in his mind that you are here and that this is happening.

Somehow, miraculously, he finally got you alone...and you want him too.

Though he fears he'll get too eager and move too fast for your liking, leading to crossing a boundary or scaring you away. So, he's careful, treating you as if you were glass, slow to do anything more than kiss you like this. Truthfully, he could just do this all night and he'd still be over the moon. But he can't deny in his heart the need for more.

His hand on your jaw slowly slides down your neck, simply letting his fingertips brush against the sensitive skin. It's warm, and he can feel your pulse thrumming just beneath. He wonders how it would feel against his lips.

Solomon reluctantly pulls away from your lips, leaning down to instead kiss along the column of your neck. It elicits a soft gasp, and he feels giddy that he can get such a cute response from you. It only serves him to want to hear more. A secondary motive.

With each article of clothing he removes from your body, he falls deeper in love as he sees his person bared completely to him. It signifies the trust you've built together. And he'll do everything to never lose it - a promise he quietly makes to himself.

From your neck, he lavishes kisses along your collarbones, down both of your arms, your shallowly rising and falling chest, your soft stomach, all the way down to your naval. Any further is iffy territory and he wants explicit permission before he does anything more.

Through a husky tone, he asks, "is this okay? Can I continue?"

Your approval and reassurance are resounding. The weight of worry eases a little, but he's still tentative to continue. He wants you to feel good. He wants this first time with you to be perfect. He can't help it, he's an ancient sorcerer in love for the first time in a very long time...if ever.

So, slowly, he ventures onward to where he sees the obvious impact he's had on you tonight. His talented silver tongue makes you squirm on the bed, your hands tangling in his soft locks as his name tumbles out of your mouth like a prayer. The taste of your sweet arousal is something he fears he could get addicted to.

Solomon can feel his own arousal growing past anything he's ever experienced before. He didn't know he had the capacity to feel so needy for someone else. Good lord, just what are you doing to him?

Once he feels he's prepped and pleasured you enough with his tongue and dexterous fingers, he pulls away to finally undress and bare himself to you. His eyes shift away nervously as he feels you studying his body now. He knows his skin is marred from centuries of living; the countless pact marks, scars he doesn't remember the stories of, and burns from experiments gone wrong. He's never felt self-conscious like this before, but it's another product of what you do to him.

When you sit up on the bed, crawling to him to brush your fingers along his skin, it takes his breath away. You aren't afraid to explore him. Tracing his pact marks, kissing his imperfections, never once showing disgust like he might've thought.

No, only care.

Solomon gently chases you back down onto the bed, crawling over your excited form with smiles and giggles exchanged in the otherwise quiet room. Once again, he gets your staunch permission before continuing. And once again, you reassure him that this is what you want. Any lingering doubt subsides, and with that, he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly slides in, letting you adjust once he's fully settled within you.

"D-Deus meus..."

His forehead rests against yours as his breathing turns ragged, reveling in how goddamn good you feel around him. It takes all of him to be patient, but he waits for your signal, and once he has it, he doesn't hesitate to start moving.

His hips snap against yours in deep, measured thrusts. Passionate kisses are shared, soft moans and grunts fill your ears, and his hands never once stop exploring your body. The love he gave it earlier wasn't nearly enough.

There's no rush. It's not frantic - it's not even desperate. It's slow and intimate as he guarantees you both feel good in this one moment of solitude.

Solomon isn't even thinking about afterwards or what those brothers might say. He's fully entranced by you. He makes love to you as if it's the last time he ever will.

Soon he brings you both to a mind-shattering orgasm. His body shudders above yours as he buries his face in your neck. The way you clench around him makes him consider asking for a second round. Though, he wants to take a break more - to love and care for you as needed. As carefully as he can, he pulls out, already missing being enveloped by you and your sweet body. The second his fatigued self hits the bed, you instantly cuddle up to him, locking him in place for the foreseeable future.

To say he's a little shocked is an understatement. Sure, you both just shared a moment of passion and pleasure, but there was still some part of him that wondered if you really wanted him. For you to take the initiative to cuddle up to him in the afterglow touches his heart. Solomon wraps his arms around you, humming at the shared warmth between your sweaty bodies and shielding you from the world outside of this room.

Tonight you're his. And he knows he'll always be yours.

[scribbledghost]

Slow

Pairing: inhuman!Vessel x Fem!reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 1,632

Warnings: smut, MDNI, Oral (f receiving), PiV, telepathic connection. Does... does this count as monsterfucking...?

Notes: Continuing with the suggestions from this ask: first time with inhuman!Vessel. It's soft, because that's who i am as a person.

It takes a considerable amount of time for the two of you to progress past kissing. Vessel has been around a very long time, so he's not clueless by any stretch of the imagination, but he doesn't want to overstep his bounds or make you feel disrespected.

He has experience, but not much since he was turned into... whatever he is now. He had more as a human, but being an inhuman vessel to an eldritch deity comes with certain differences that he hasn't had much chance to fully explore yet.

Vessel wants to do things right, though. He wants to treat you right.

So, things are slow. He waits for you to take the lead to start, even going so far as to pull away more than once when things get a little too heated.

It takes you flat out asking him if something's wrong for him to explain. It's not that he doesn't want you - quite the opposite, really - it's that he wants you to be sure it's what you want. Of course, the mental connection between the two of you more than confirms it, but he needs to hear you say it out loud.

You'll have to reassure him that you're okay with this. That you're not afraid of him. Because, deep down, that's where his fears lie: the idea of him scaring you away.

It's the same fear he had when he first removed the mask for you. It's the same fear he had when he confessed his feelings. It's the fear of you truly seeing him for the first time and not liking what you find.

Even once the two of you have that conversation, it'll take a little while longer for Vessel to come around. Things progress past your usual heated kissing sessions one late morning, when the two of you wake up together in Vessel's bed. One kiss turns into two, which turns into so many you don't bother keeping track. He tastes into you, and you do the same in return.

You feel him against your abdomen, his length twitching as you pull a low groan from his mouth. It's now, just like several times before, that he pulls back.

But this time, something changes.

"Are you certain you want this, my heart?" Vessel breathes into the space between you, all six pupils blown with desire.

A soft yes is all he needs in this moment.

He shifts you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. Both of you still fully clothed, he allows himself to take his time. To savor the sensation of his body grinding against yours.

It isn't until a soft "please" escapes you that he returns to himself.

"Tell me what you want," he says. "Anything you wish, and it's yours."

Your answer is quiet. So quiet he nearly misses it.

"Want you."

The simple phrase hits him like a crashing wave.

And suddenly things aren't quite as slow anymore.

His sharp canines nip at your pulse, his tongue darting out to soothe your skin when you whine in response. One of your hands finds his hair, tangling itself there as you tug. Pitch black hands slide up the shirt you slept in, groping at your chest before helping you remove the garment.

Vessel sleeps in only loose pants, so it takes little time and effort for him to discard those, as well as the rest of your own clothes.

"Please, let me taste you, beloved," he says against your lips. "Let me drown in you."

Well, how can you say no to that when he asks so sweetly?

There's something about Vessel that you hadn't noticed until this moment, and it's a hell of a time to realize it: his tongue is longer than a regular human's. He must have held it back all those times you'd drawn your own tongue against it.

He alternates between circling your clit and thrusting his tongue into you, his eyes rolling back in their sockets. Low, almost pained groans leave him, and you begin to notice his mental walls slipping away. His thoughts, normally so well-guarded, are projected straight to you, as if he's talking without needing to move his mouth away from you. They're disjointed and sporadic, a far cry from how eloquent Vessel typically is.

Good. So good. Smell good. Taste good. Feel good. I need more. Need it all. Never have enough. Won't stop until you come. Won't stop until you tell me to.

Between his enthusiasm and his own pleasure bleeding into yours through your mind, you feel yourself cresting far sooner than you'd anticipated.

"Ves-" you warn, "Ves, gonna-"

Come, he projects to you, his middle set of eyes opening to stare up into yours. Come for me. Give it to me. Let me drink you in.

Almost on command, your orgasm washes over you, your back arching as you grip the bedding beneath you in tight fists.

Yes, yes. That's it. You're so good. So beautiful like this.

You fully expect Vessel to ease you down slowly, but that's not quite what happens. Instead, he continues lazily thrusting his tongue into you, as if he's trying to savor every last drop of you.

Again, he begs. Please. I need more, my heart. I need another.

To his credit, he notices how much your hips buck when he tries to circle your clit too soon. He allows you to recover without fully coming down, avoiding any sting of overstimulation.

Your next orgasm is faster, but it doesn't find you as explosively. Instead, it's softer, as if a gentle cover of warmth is slowly pulled over your body. All the while, Vessel's soft words greet you in the ether.

He slowly kisses up your body when he's finished, your slick still coating his face. His eyes are lidded, almost as if he's in as much of a daze as you are.

"Thank you," he murmurs aloud as he kisses your lips softly. "Thank you for indulging me, sweet girl. Do you still want more? Or do you wish to rest?"

"More," you respond quietly. You want all of him.

He's quick to oblige you.

Vessel hitches one of your legs over his thigh, staring intently at your facial expressions as he guides his cock into you.

Once again, the world slows. Your brows knit together, and Vessel leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

Is it too much? he asks through his thoughts.

Though your thoughts are more general feelings than coherent sentences in the moment, he's in tune with you enough to know that it's simply the stretch taking a bit of getting used to. You're more than wet enough from two orgasms, so there is no pain or sting.

Once he's buried to the hilt, he rests. His pelvis notched against yours, both of you breathing into each other. Several slow kisses are exchanged, as are silent and softly spoken words.

A subtle shift of your hips tells Vessel that you're ready to continue.

His lips find their place on yours as he begins the slow roll of his hips, the two of you only separating with quiet gasps of pleasure.

It's... strange, almost, experiencing this through the lens of your telepathic connection. Vessel can't really remember any of his previous post-transformation encounters ever feeling like this. Sure, the physical sensations are largely the same, but the emotional and mental ones are vastly different.

As he loses himself more in you and increases his pace, he finds himself unable to tell where his mind ends and yours begins. Your pleasure is his pleasure, and vice versa. The atmosphere between the two of you is one neither of you can properly articulate. All Vessel can really comprehend in this moment is that this feels good. You feel good. An undercurrent of love an affection runs deep beneath it all, bolstering the pleasure and raising it further.

He loses any track of time he had, completely unaware of the world around the two of you.

It isn't until he begins to feel the familiar coil tightening in his core that he knows this can't last forever.

"Close," he breathes against your mouth. The only sign he receives that you heard him is a brief nod before you're pulling him to you again.

You latch onto him as his pace stutters, and as he tips over his own edge, he finds himself clinging to you as well. His muscles tense as he spills into your warmth, an almost pained groan leaving his lips as he comes. His eyes glow, and somewhere nearby, he vaguely registers a sharp pop, but it is quickly forgotten.

As the heat slowly dissipates and Vessel returns to himself, the air is still aside from your combined breaths. He props himself up just enough to look down at you, and both of you break into grins, then soft laughter at the same time.

"Are you alright, my love?" Vessel asks softly as he kisses you.

"Yeah," you whisper back. "Are you?"

"Very much so."

He rolls onto his side, pulling you with him as he does. It's a slow, almost torturous shift as he pulls out of you, and he soothes your soft whine with a kiss to your forehead.

It's several more minutes spent lying together in the afterglow before Vessel notices a glint of light coming from the nightstand. When he turns to inspect it further, he notices several shards of glass there.

"By the way," you say, a grin audible in your tone, "you busted the lightbulb."

Ah. That must have been that strange sound he'd heard earlier. Looks like his powers aren't quite as under control as he thought.

Nothing a good amount of practice can't fix.

[eepwriting]

I NEED Vessel with a size kink and a short reader in my life ASAP. Can I please have some praise and belly bulge in the mix as well. 🙏🙏😫😫😫

Size Kink Vessel Headcanons GN! Reader

Warnings: nfsw thoughts, size kink

OKAY I am currently working on a full vessy fic but I need to post something so have these NASTY thoughts. Thank you anon for this scrumptious ask 😙

!! mdni !!

✧༝┉˚ MASTERLIST ˚┉༝✧

✦ taglist: @ghostlygothicgay @skellyflowers @evisnotok @jeriiicho @adenobabe @trying-not-horny-on-main @rain-down-on-me

Join my 🏷️ taglist here ♡

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

✶ Bro gets offff at the thought of how much larger he is than you.

✶ Quite literally cannot keep it in his pants.

✶ Loves to hold your hold the sides of your face in his big hands.

✶ Likes to tower over you from behind and wrap you in a bear hug.

✶ Obsessed with manhandling you if you let him.

✶ Picking you up and fucking you against the wall.

✶ Dare I say he loves you flat on your stomach, his arms wrapped around you, big hand around your throat while he’s completely hunched over you, moaning about how good you feel.

✶ BELLY. BULGE. LOVER

✶ Has cum more than once from sitting bottomed out inside you, massaging his hand over your stomach and watching you squirm from the pressure.

✶ “Would you look at that.” “Feel good when I push down right here, hm?”

✶ Likes to take pictures of his cock lying on your stomach, showing just how far he can reach.

✶ Also loves when you’re on top so he can hold you in a vice grip hug and fuck up into you.

✶ He can’t stop thinking about how easy it is to hold you down and have his way.

✶ Praises you in a way that makes your head spin.

✶ “Just the right size for me, so perfect.” “Love how you feel in my arms, love.”

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

LORDY LORD

Big man make brain go fuzzy

K. Bye bye.

[betweenstorms]

It struck you one evening, somewhere in the midst of a quiet shower, the realisation that you had never seen your boyfriend listen to music. Simon Riley was a man carved from stillness, his silence so tangible it felt like an extension of him, as if he commanded it the way others commanded words. As if quiet itself belonged to him.

For you, music was as constant as breath, filling the spaces of your life. It hummed through the kitchen as you cooked, danced in the clink of dishes and drifted through the rooms with every fold of laundry. When Simon was home from deployment, he never complained about it, never reached for the volume knob or asked you to turn it off. He’d said he didn’t mind, that you could listen to whatever you wanted.

He lived in the quiet, and you lived in the sound, and somehow, those worlds had learned to overlap. But he’d never shown a preference, never reached for a song the way you did. Still, the thought nagged at you—what did Simon Riley listen to, if he listened to anything at all?

And then, one rainy morning, your answer arrived.

You had slept in, wrapped in the warmth of blankets, the steady patter of rain on the window lulling you into those extra minutes of rest. The world outside was only a distant hum, as if time had slowed down just for you. When you finally stirred, stretching lazily in the grey light, you pushed yourself from bed, the coolness of the room waking your senses.

And then you paused.

In the tender light of morning, he stood—Simon, his figure framed by the soft, pale glow. At the stove, his broad shoulders curved beneath the black sweatshirt, a presence as unyielding as stone. Even with his back to you, he commanded the room effortlessly, the quiet weight of him impossible to ignore. His arms, thick with muscle, spoke of strength honed in battle, yet he moved with a surprising grace, each motion deliberate, unhurried. But it wasn’t the quiet power of his form or the sight of him cooking that made you stop.

It was the sound of his voice.

Low, hoarse and gravelly, almost too quiet to catch, Simon was murmuring the lyrics of a song under his breath, so nonchalantly it nearly made you laugh.

“And just like the rain You cast the dust into nothing And wash out the salt from my hands?”

There was something so deadpan and painfully out of tune about the way his voice grumbled through the lyrics, it was almost comical. And yet, it was also extremely sweet.

In the quiet of the morning, there he was, humming along to a song you knew well—your favourite song, as though it had seeped into him without you ever knowing.

“So touch me again I feel my shadow dissolving Will you cleanse me with pleasure?”

You stood in the doorway, grinning to yourself, watching as he moved through the space, his stillness now softened by the gentle rhythm of the rain. You hadn’t known Simon even liked music, let alone your music, and the sight of him—the infamous Ghost—murmuring Sleep Token lyrics under his breath, made your heart swell.

betweenstorms (next) (masterlist)

[jumbojazzcats93]

Ok, so hear me out-

There is a cast out goddess doomed to eternal reincarnation on earth as a human. It's been centuries. Hundreds of new faces, names, and lives. Her followers are long dead, but her favored remain. The four of them, blessed by their goddess before her fall, seek her endlessly in every new life she lives. Her power is what keeps them alive. Regardless of if she has the ability to touch it or not, as long as she exists, her blessings still remain, and effected entities still reap the rewards. Her power leaks from her body in every life. Its what enables them to find her when she's reborn. Worshipping her is different now, but they're no less enamored by their Goddess than they once were.

And if I expand on this... who knows.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Ok hear me out: how would the ST boys react if their gf!reader let them hit raw for the first time?

(please I love ur writing & I‘m ovulating)

Go to fucking hell dude… I’m due any day now and you made me foam at the mouth with this. You all need Jesus… and so do I because I loved writing this way too much… Mary fucking cumshot sluts.

warning: smut and this time tissues won’t save your vagina. Bring a bucket.

Vessel

He’s quite careful with this shit. Doesn’t like taking risks. Sure, he had thought about it, but that dude doesn’t. But he can sacrifice that need for now. So even if you’re on birth control he is still using condoms. Until of course he is not…

It’s the worst fucking day he is having. The show is in four hours. The lights aren’t working. They can’t get the sound right, the echo is killing him. Some pieces of ii’s dum went missing. It’s just a bunch of anxious, overstimulated people feeding off each other and it’s suffocating. His head is going in loops. He can already see it all going to shit and then people dragging him through hell after.

“Come on”, you thread your fingers through his, giving him a little tug. “I need to go check…”, he starts, “You don’t, you need to get out of here and breath for a bit”, you cut in firmly, “At least for a bit, it will do you good”, you reach out cupping his face, “You have a show to play tonight”, “If we have a fucking show”, he grunts. “Vessel”, you say firmly, “Yes, break”, he lifts his hands following you to the back room. You let him in first, looking over the corridor before locking the door.

“Why did you lock it”, Vessel frowns slightly, “Go sit down”, you motion for the sofa. “Y/n”, he shakes his head, and you simply stare at him before pulling your shirt down and letting your breast fall out of the material. “Jesus”, Vessel grunts. “Sit down I want to ride you”, you lick your lips as you climb over his lap. “We can’t”, Vessel grunts, as you grind against him. Hands instantly reach for your hips. “Why not, no one is around. Everyone’s out on lunch break”, you lean over, letting your lips trail down his neck. “Don’t have a condom on me”, he bucks his hips against you. “So?”, you throw your hair over your shoulder, “On birth control, remember”. You let your fingers slip into his sweatpants as you pull his dick free. Already semi-hard. “You will be the death of me”, Vessel whines as you palm him, spitting onto your hand. “You haven’t felt me raw yet, hold on”, you chuckle, lining him against yourself before you sink down.

You both moan in unison. Your fingers digging into his shoulder. Vessel who usually has good sense of control loses it. Pushing you down his cock, no time to properly stretch you out. “Fucking shit”, he grunts bottoming out. The warm gummy feeling of your walls makes him feel lightheaded. “Your cock is fucking…my”, you moan as he lifts you back up before slamming you back down once more. You clench around him, making it hard to even pull out, “I’m gonna cum on another thrust if…”, but you just push him back into the sofa, bracing yourself against his shoulder as you move your hips in circles, moaning his name. “Cum inside me”, you whimper, picking up the pace, “Want to feel you filling me up”, “fuck you dirty bitch”, his hand wraps around your neck as he pulls you closer bucking his hips every time you bottom out. Both feel your climax approaching and it truly only takes a couple more thrust before you two are falling over the edge. Vessel pushing you all the way down till your hips meet as he spills inside you. “That was…”, Vessel sighs, leaning in to kiss your chest. “I never came so fast”, you chuckle, feeling the mixture of you both gushing from where you two are still joining. “I can feel…”, he swallows thickly, “Your cum in me, pull out and see the spectacle”, you chuckle pushing up on your knees. The gush of cum trickling down onto Vessel’s lower stomach makes him growl. “Come here”, he grabs for your hips as he flips you both over hovering over you. “What happened to Mr. I always wear a condom”, you chuckle teasingly. “Shut the fuck up and spread your legs open”, he grunts, plunging back into your cum covered walls.

ii

Birth control didn’t sit well with your body. He had watched you suffer through so many months of adjustments. You were willing to keep trying but ii had stepped in, quite frankly done watching you suffer. “We’ll just use condoms and if we get pregnant we get pregnant”, he cupped your face before throwing your birth control pills out.

Just the problem was that you two fell into these rabbit fucking spells from time to time. Especially when he would have to go away. It was silly honestly that a couple of weeks without sex would end up making you so desperate but that’s what happens when you find your person.

So it’s well into the morning, you’re sure your neighbors are casting death spells on you by now. You don’t even remember how many times you had already cum. ii came back after a festival they played in and the moment he walked through the door you were wrapped around his neck. It was pathetic the way you two fucked right against the door. Then bent over a kitchen counter. Sofa. Living room window. And then the bedroom. The sheets drenched from your cum and the used condoms piling up. ii reaches back into the nightstand, grasping for that foil package as you pull him closer kissing him desperately. But his fingers don’t seem to grasp anything.

“Hold up”, he pulls away slightly, leaning over the side, pulling the drawer all the way open. His brain blanks when he sees the empty box… surely you two haven’t... Your nails dig into his ass as you buck your hips against him, his dick rubbing against your soaked walls, making him moan as well. “Baby, we don’t have condoms”, he grunts, making you snap your head his way, “I can go and…”, “Just go raw”, you whine, hands already reaching between you two. “Hey, you’re not thinking straight”, he grabs your wrist. “I’m thinking quite alright”, you grunt, “We both are clean, been together for a while, go raw. We’ll grab a plan b pill when we go to the side shop for condoms”, you sigh, grasping at his neck. “Yn”, he grunts, he knows he won’t be able to hold back but this is big shit and he feels like he’s taking advantage. “Think with your little head now please”, you moan, “I need your cum, just fuck me”, you reach back out lining you two up once again. “Yn”, II whimpers feeling the head of his cock pushing past your swollen lips. “All of it, fuck me into the matters”, you pull his hand, pressing it around your neck.

“I fucking love you”, he moans, pushing into you, head hanging low as he tries to not cum on the spot. The feeling of you two with nothing in between altering his brain chemistry. “You feel like heaven”, he grunts, rutting into you full force, watching as your head falls back, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Ii”, you scream out, the feeling of his veiny dick stretching you out making you see stars. It’s ridiculous how fast you both manage to orgasm. No extras stimulation nothing, both cumming together right as ii bottoms out and he swears he has never cum so much in his life as he lets his chest fall onto you. Both breathing heavily.

“My god I… you did that”, you whimper, feeling him still twitching inside you. “For the first time in my life I need a moment”, he chuckles tiredly. He pulls back moments later, “Want to watch?”, he whispers catching your dazed eyes. You brace yourself on your arms as you watch him pull out. His cum slowly dripping out, and his eyes go dark again, “Fuck”, you clench your walls sending a wave of white to gush out. “Can I?”, he looks up fingers itching. You simply nod watching him gather his cum back before pushing his fingers back into your sensitive walls. You can’t help but fall back against the sheets with a moan. “Don’t fucking do that”, ii grunt, “You’ll make me want to go again”, “Who said you can’t?”, you bite your lip watching him and he’s back on top of you in a heartbeat.

iii

I feel like raw dogging is how you live your life. Idk sure he always asks but you two love the feeling of it. You’re both adults so what the fuck is holding you back. The first time however is your first time in general. You two had been pinning after each other for months. Sexual tension is through the roof. He barely walks you back home from your first official date before you pull him into your apartment. Then there’s a whole mess of hands everywhere. Clothes flying. Side tables getting kicked before you two are tumbling into bed. Because he’s a gentleman he eats you out first, savoring the feeling of your walls on his tongue and fingers. You’re a desperate mess by then, clinging to him, “Just fuck me”, you whisper arching your back. “Let me grab a condom from my wallet”, he muses kissing the valley between your breasts. “You don’t have to”, you whimper, “I’m on birth control”.

“What?”, iii blinks at you, quite frankly it feels like a dream come true cause that’s all he had wanted to do but none of his previous girlfriends had agreed to it and he respected their choice. “Go raw, iii, want to feel you”, you lick your lips. And you don’t have to tell him twice. “You’re something else, darling”, he shakes his head, pumping his dick a couple of times before looking back up at you, “You’re sure?”, “Yes, yes I can sign the papers after, just fuck me”, you grunt, wrapping your legs around him as you pull him closer. “Needy, minx”, he chuckles, running his dick again your lips, “naughty fucking girl”, he nips at your neck as he pushes into you. Grasping onto the headboard, his whole body nearly giving out as he feels you stretching around him. “Fuck… yours so big”, you whimper, trying to stop your muscles from squeezing him. “Relax or I will bust like a teenager”, he grunts, moving to circle your clit, catching a glimpse of his dick stretching your tight pussy out. “I can’t”, you whimper, feeling the head of his cock brushing against your cervix. You both moan in unison as he does it over and over again. “Iii”, you whimper feeling your toes curl. “I’m right behind you”, he grunts, “fucking cum”. And you do just that, legs shaking as you try to push him away but his relentless sharp thrusts keep you pinned to the mattress. And the moment you feel the ropes of his cum painting your walls you swear you’re coming once again, arching off the mattress as he lazily thrust into you, watching you shaking beneath him.

“Good girl”, he brushes your hair away from your face, “Did you cum again?”, he’s smirking but you can’t even give him shit as you nod, still seeing black dots. “From me cuming inside?”, he chuckles, fingers reaching between you two, gathering bits of the mess you two made. “Suck them clean baby”, he pushes his fingers between your lips, you moan as you lap it up, hooded eyes watching him. “Don’t worry, I will help you”, he kisses your breast before moving between your legs.

Ivy

He was hard the moment you had put that sun dress on. He couldn’t help it you looked too good in it. The dent in his pants getting more and more uncomfortable as he watched you chatting with some other girls. Yeah, he hated this fucking party. He wanted to be back home between the sheets with you. “I can’t do this”, he grunted against your ear as you giggled walking through the crowd with him. “A couple more hours”, you promised and he swears time never went so slow. He’s standing up the moment the first person says they are going home. Pulling at your hand as he waves his friend goodbye.

“You’re so horny”, you chuckle as he opens the door to his car for you. “Tell me about it”, ivy grumbles, “Major blue balls now”. You can’t help but chuckle watching him angrily starting his car. “Give me your hand”, you whisper. “I can’t do cute hand holding now, yn”, he grunts yet his fingers still find yours. You know it’s insane. You’ve never do shit like this. But it’s late, the road is clear, you’re outside the city, and the road to the main road is still far ahead. So you dip his hand between your legs. His head snaps to you instantly, his fingers finding nothing but your warm wet pussy. “You didn’t”, he grunts, “eyes on the road”, you warn him. But he just turns the car slightly before slamming the brakes. “Out”, he orders. “What are you…”, “Out, yn, don’t fucking play with me baby”, he grunts and you watch him undoing his belt. You hop out, as he pulls the back seat door open before pushing you down against the leather. “You’re misbehaving, love”, he says through gritted teeth as he pushes his pants and boxers down. “No bra too”, you whisper, pulling the elastic material down, nipples hardening instantly against the coolness of the night. “Fuck me, women”, he growls, pulling your hips closer to him as lines himself against you without warning. And it’s something you two had never done before. It doesn’t even hit you that you two are raw dogging in the back of his car because you are way too worked up and fuck does it feel good. “Ivy”, you cry out as he snaps his hips into you, the car rocking with the movement. “You’re such a tease”, he grunts, spiting against his palm before moving to circle your clit. The sounds that leave your lips are primal, fingers pulling at his shirt sending buttons flying. The windows are foggy by now. You two aren’t even able to form sentences both two lost at the feeling before the string snaps and suddenly you’re filled with so much warmth. Ropes of ivy cum sending shock waves through your system. He braces himself against the arch of the door, lazily thrusting into you. Before his hips halt.

“Shit baby, I came… I came inside you”, and suddenly there’s pure panic on his face. As he reaches for his phone pulling the flash on as if maybe he had just imagined it but what he’s met is a mess on his leather seat, cum oozing out of your puffy lips. “Fuck”, “it’s okay, come here”, you pull at his hand, throwing his phone to the front seat. “Yn, this.. I'm sorry”, he whispers into the dark, “don’t be, on birth control remember”, you whimper, “fuck me one more time before we go”, “yn”, he grunts, “Maybe bent over the hood so I could drip over your car”, you bite your lip trying to suppress a chuckle as ivy lets out a breathy moan, “You’ll be dripping cum for weeks after im done with you”.

[intakeofbreath]

⎯ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴍᴜʀᴍᴜʀ. ᴘᴛ ɪɪ.

wc: {454} tw: heavy kissing, clothed grinding, soft dominance, body worship, emotional vulnerability, references to religion.

the first sound is her breath—ragged, caught between her ribs, trembling where his mouth just was.

the air is thick with incense, heavy with something that feels more like offering than affection. her back hits the dressing room wall, the coolness of it shocking against the heat surging under her skin. his hand follows a second later—flat against the plaster beside her head, a silent command, a cage made from shadow.

and then his mouth crashes into hers again.

hot, bruising, hungry.

she moans—soft and surprised—one of his hands slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, fingers dragging up her spine like he’s mapping out something sacred. the black paint that covers his skin leaves streaks across her body, across her clothes, like he’s claiming her in silence.

her hands fist in the edges of his open cloak, yanking him closer. the fabric smells like stage smoke. it parts easily, fluttering around them as he presses his hips into hers. there's heat, pressure, something desperate and aching between them—and he groans into her mouth, the sound low and sinful.

“you don’t know what you do to me,” vessel murmurs, his lips barely brushing hers. his voice is a rasp, his accent softened and reverent, like he’s whispering prayer. “you walk in and breathe—and i forget every word i’ve ever sung.”

her heart stutters. her fingers climb his chest, feeling the muscles twitch under the paint. he’s all contrast—cold mask, hot mouth, tender touch, brutal kiss. there’s something dangerous about the way he’s holding back. as if this, just this, is all he’ll allow.

her mouth finds the corner of his jaw—just below the edge of the mask. she kisses the exposed skin there, slow and aching. worshipful.

he shudders.

“let me see you,” she whispers—not asking for the mask. never the mask. just him.

and he gives it. just a sliver.

vessel tilts his head, brushing his lips against her temple, his voice close enough to crawl under her skin. “you already are.”

his hand ghosts along her throat—not gripping, just resting there, feeling the tremble of her breath. his thumb strokes the hollow of it, as if feeling for a heartbeat. or counting each second of restraint.

she tilts her chin up, lips parted, eyes half-lidded. “then touch me like you mean it.”

he laughs, quiet and rough. “no.” his mouth hovers over hers again. “i’ll touch you like i need it.”

and when he kisses her again, slower now—deeper—it’s a kind of worship that makes her knees go weak. his fingers find her waist and drag her flush against him, and there’s nothing gentle in the way he grinds against her. but his kiss?

his kiss is a confession.

[hopesangelsprite]

The Summoning

Pairing: Vampire!Illumi x Reader

Summary: Being immortal can grow very old, very quickly and Illumi's found that out the hard way. The only reasonable solution would be to find a suitable playmate, right?

Warnings: mentions of blood/death/murder, biting, size/strength difference, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, dacryphilia, breeding kink, degradation, female ejaculation, manipulation (vampire compulsion)

MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI

Viewer discretion is advised.

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God?

Or are you really here to cast me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

Illumi watched with half-lidded eyes as his servants removed a corpse from his feet, nothing left of the younger male but an empty, soulless husk. How many had he gone through now? 30? 300? Whatever the death toll was, it didn't matter. Illumi no longer cared for numbers, the sheer quantity of his years on earth drawing him to the conclusion that they were overrated.

"Bring me the next one.", he ordered while leaning further into the large throne chair he'd taken residence in, "If this one doesn't satisfy me, I'll be draining one of you in their place.". Illumi let threat roll off his blood-stained lips easily, keen on fulfilling it should he be presented another weakling.

There was a brief silence before the doors to his quarters opened, your figure edging closer uncertainly. The closer you got, the better he was able to analyze you. Unlike his previous victims, there were no tears in your eyes or trembling in your limbs. Though you eyed him warily, he sensed you were more curious than afraid. You were quite attractive, as well; with smooth curves just barely concealed by what was left of a skirt and halter top. As you finally got within arm's reach of him, you sank to your knees with fluttering lashes.

Illumi's cock twitched at the sight, the position giving him a perfect view of your tits and exposed thighs. "Do you know why you're here, pretty thing?", he inquired whilst making a mental note of just how fragile you were in comparison to him. To any mortal man, you'd be considered healthy, maybe even too much so for those on the weaker end of the male spectrum. To Illumi, however, you were nothing but a doll, a plaything he could bend and contort to his undead heart's content.

"I was running from my old life... I was promised shelter.", you answered after a moment and Illumi chuckled. He leaned forward, crimson tongue flicking over glinting fangs, and grasped your face with a large, ring-laden hand. "There's no safety for you here, little doll, only death or imprisonment.", he drawled out, keen eyes catching the way your thighs pressed together at his touch. With one hand, you removed his hand from your face, head turning to place a kiss on his palm. The other you placed on his dark denim-clad thigh, fingers tracing patterns into the coarse material. "Then I should aim to please, no?", you inquired as your hand crept closer to his belt.

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

I didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad

A smirk graced Illumi's lips at your insinuation, lust deepening within him as you carefully undid his belt's clasp. So, he leaned back, dark eyes watching you like a predator behind inky tresses. He pushed his hips forward to allow you better access to him, reveling in the tiny gasp you let out upon freeing his cock. His skin was milky, fading into a pretty pink closer to his weeping tip; a few veins adorned his shaft, a little longer than he was thick. Your mouth watered at the sight, core moistening as you took him into your hands.

Illumi groaned at the softness of your skin against his, catching his bottom lip between a fang as you gave him a few experimental strokes. You shuffled closer, knees no doubt bruising from the floor's harsh surface. You placed your chin on his knees, inquiring eyes boring into his as you swiped a thumb over his leaky slit; you were seeking permission, how wonderfully submissive of you. "Go on then, have a taste.", he permitted with a lazy nod.

His breath caught in his throat as your warm, plush lips enveloped his cockhead, your tongue following shortly afterward. You kissed him wetly, the taste of precum unfamiliar yet welcomed. You took him into your mouth once more, this time sucking him as far back into your throat as you could. A deep, satisfied hum rumbled through Illumi's chest as he watched you begin to come up for air, a blood-stained hand tangling itself into your hair to stop your rising and push you down further. "Now, now. Don't underestimate yourself, darling, you can take a little bit more.", he mewled over the sound of your gagging, "Can't you?".

Illumi finally let you up after a few moments, cooing at the sight of tear-streaked mascara kissing your cheeks. Still, your eyes only held a strange look of awe and adoration; one that Illumi found himself mirroring as you continued to suck him off ever so sweetly. Illumi hissed as he pulled you off his cock, leaning down to catch your lips with his. He deepened the kiss as he guided you from the floor onto his lap, the taste of his arousal on your tongue only making him harder.

As Illumi broke the kiss, lips dipping to nip at your neck while his hands slipped underneath your skirt, a low curse escaped him as his fingers met your bare, soaked core. He found his sanity waning. "Nothing underneath?", he hummed as he brought your face close to his, "What a pretty little slut you are.". He locked eyes with you, eye contact unwavering as he pushed two long fingers past your entrance and began searching for that soft, spongy spot he knew would have you singing praises.

You whimpered upon the intrusion, thighs quaking as he began scissoring you open. Illumi took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, enjoying your breathy moans and the noises coming from your sopping cunt. "Feels good, doesn't it.", he chuckled as your hips began rutting against his palm, "I think we both know what'll feel much better, though.".

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

Before you could reach your high, Illumi pulled his fingers from your cunt. Without a second of hesitation, he shoved those same fingers into your throat as he pulled you down onto his cock, allowing very little protest as your pelvises met abruptly. More tears welled behind your lash line as you adjusted to the stretch of him overfilling your pussy, tip nuzzled snuggly against your cervix and g-spot. "Filthy fucking whore.", he spat as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and began manhandling you up the expanse of his shaft, "My filthy fucking whore.".

You cried out in pleasure as he pulled you back down, setting a quick and unforgiving rhythm. Illumi watched your tits bounce beneath the fabric of your top ruefully as he continued to use you like a doll. He growled as he tugged at its neckline, hips bucking up into you as it freed your breasts with a loud rip. You shivered as Illumi leaned forward to take one of your nipples between his teeth, gently tugging at it before swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. He continued his ministrations, switching between left and right, with a single hand keeping a bruising grip on your hip while the other busied itself by rolling your clit between its thumb and index finger.

Illumi felt your soft walls flutter around him and he groaned into your skin, pulling your body impossibly closer to his. He released your tit with a loud pop, hips pistoning his cock into you faster as he licked a stripe up your chest and neck. It didn't take him long to find your pulse, suckling over the skin while imagining just how sweet you'd taste. Soon, his cock was throbbing in perfect time with your moans, his high growing closer and closer the more you called out his name and begged him to slow down. Instead, he removed himself from your neck, pulling your forehead against his to lock eyes with you.

The air between and around you quickly grew tense, a steady thrum of energy bringing you closer to your high as Illumi's dark eyes melted into a bloody, crimson shade. "Cum for me.", he moaned into your mouth, head dipping to pierce your skin with his fangs. Without warning, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, curses and pleas tumbling from your lips as the stinging pain of being bitten melded into overwhelming pleasure. Your mind grew numb as you came, your arousal spraying over Illumi's lap as he drank you in. And you let him, body trembling and unable to come down from the violent high he'd brought upon you.

You've got my body, flesh, and bone

The sky above, the earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

A taste of the divine

Illumi released your neck after a long moment, tongue lapping up a few stray beads of blood as he pulled your hips flush against his and filled you with his seed. Another tremor crept down your spine at the sudden hot, sticky substance filling your womb, Illumi whispering sweet nothings and pretty vows into your ear to coax you out of the trance he'd locked you in. You blinked once, then twice, to clear the white spots and tears from your vision.

"There you are, little one.~", he purred before placing a kiss on the now bruising bite mark he'd given you, "Was afraid I lost you for a second.". All you could do was whimper, slumping forward to rest your head in the crook of his shoulder. Your scent faintly mingled with sex and iron filled his nostrils, tempting him to finish draining and breeding you. He let you rest, though, leaning back into the chair with his cock still plugging you full as he, too, drifted into sleep for the first time in centuries.

Besides, the venom and cum in your system would need time to take effectively.

[aerynwrites]

Black Paint

Vessel x Fem!Reader

A/N: After almost a week of more i FINALLY finished this omg. sorry for all the teasing it just turned into way more of a beast to write this than i anticipated lol. Now that this is done though I have more of a horror oriented idea surrounding Vessel the character that I want to work on next. Hope you all enjoy! Word Count: 8.4k (oops) Warnings: none

--------------------------

The bar is busier than normal. You have to push the door rather roughly to not so politely get someone blocking it to move, and when you finally do make it inside, the air is thick with the smell of beer and warm bodies. 

Great.

You grumble quietly to yourself as you wade through the mass of bodies, laughter and the loud din of conversation assaulting your ears as you approach the bar, a glimmer of hope flickering in your chest when you see your usual seat at the end is open.  The bartender, Ryland, spots you immediately smiling at you as he gestures to the seat that is tipped forward onto the bar to signal its reservation.

He reaches forward as you finally reach your destination, tipping the chair back so it lands on all four legs and you slide into the well worn wooden seat. The patron to your left glances at you, eyes flitting from you, to the seat that you occupied, back to Ryland before dropping back to his glass. 

You smile warmly at the bartender as you pull your scarf from around your neck. 

“Thanks for saving it for me,” you say, talking about the seat. “I hope I didn’t put anyone out.” 

Ryland shrugs already mixing your drink as his eyes flicking to your neighbor for just a brief moment before they return to you.

“Couldn’t leave my best customer without her seat,” he says kindly, his words making you feign an exaggerated wince. 

“Ugh, Ry,” you groan, “you can’t keep calling me your best customer…it makes me sound like an alcoholic.”

Ryland laughs as he slides your already finished drink across the waxed wood bar top. 

“Well…” you chuckle as you take the drink. “Maybe this is sign enough.”

Your friend shakes his head. “You’re not an alchoholic love, trust me,” he emphasizes. “You might be one of the most regulars, but having one drink a visit doesn’t mean that much. No AA for you yet.”

You raise your glass as you laugh, “Cheers to that.”

Ryland opens his mouth to respond but a shout from the end of the bar cuts him off and he rolls his eyes before sending you an apologetic look. “Duty calls, sorry.”

“I get it, go do your job. I’ll be here,” you assure him.

“Oh, I know.”

His words make you chuckle again as he rushes off to tend to more customers.  Usually you spend most of your nights here at the pub after work talking to Ryland. It’s usually just you and maybe a handful of other people, also regulars. Tonight is different though, much busier, and you find yourself slightly disappointed you won’t get to chat much with him. 

You shrug to yourself, reaching down to retrieve the book you’ve been reading from your bag. Might as well pass the time somehow, you drove all the way down here - no point in wasting the trip.

However, as you turn in your seat to reach your bag hanging on the back of your seat, you see a set of eyes on you. Your bar neighbor. 

You ignore it at first, but then remember how he’d looked when Ryland revealed the seat he’d saved had been for you. Without thinking, you grab your book and lean over slightly to be heard over the loud atmosphere of the room. 

“I hope I didn’t take this seat from someone who needed it,” you say quickly, “Did you need it for someone?” 

The man shakes his head at your question, swirling the glass in his hand around idly. 

“You’re good.” 

His words are short, but you immediately take notice of the deep timbre of his voice.

You nod, taking his curt response as ‘back off’ and move to lean back into your bubble when he speaks again. 

“You must be pretty important to have the bartender save your seat though,” he says, lips quirked up slightly. “Especially if you only ever get one drink.”

You let out a small scoff, waving him off. “Nobody important, trust me,” you say. “I’ve just been coming here for a while, and between you and me, I’m a generous tipper - I think that’s the only reason Ryland puts up with me.”

He smiles at that, closed lips pulling rather upward before he tilts his head back to finish off his drink. “That will do it,” he tells you before falling silent as he lifts up a hand to signal for another drink. 

You follow the natural flow of conversation and let it end there as Ryland comes over to take the mans order, you turn back to your book. 

You get through a few pages of your book, successfully able to tune out the noise around you but unsuccessfully able to turn out the stranger next to you. For whatever reason, you find your eyes flitting over to him more often then they should. 

He’s handsome in a mysterious kind of way. You know you’ve never seen him in here before, so he’s not a regular. He’s not here with anyone either, just silently sipping his drink of choice and occasionally flicking through his phone. But otherwise he just seems to be…existing here. Head bobbing to whatever rock music is playing through the speakers eyes glancing around the room. 

However, the one thing that seems to catch your eye most of all are his hands. He’s constantly fiddling with his glass, the several silver rings that adorn his fingers, clinking softly against the sides. But what piques your curiosity is the small flecks and smears of black on his knuckles and staining the ridges around his nails. 

It looks like paint. 

And before you can stop yourself, you find yourself asking,

“Are you an artist?”

This seems to pull the man from his reverie, eyes turning to meet yours in slight surprise. 

You gesture to his hands when he doesn’t answer. “Sorry I just - It looks like paint. on your hands…”

He looks down at his hands, brows raising slightly as he lets go of his glass to absentmindedly pick at the stains. He chuckles as he does, the sound sending a pleasant flutter through your chest. 

“You could say that,” he says vaugly. 

“That’s cool,” you offer a bit lamely, your mind anxiously reeling for a way to continue. 

You hold up your book. “I’m more of a consumer myself. You know…instead of the creator.” 

God, what the fuck is wrong with you?

The man shakes his head, “I doubt that,” he says kindly. “Most people I know who read are the most creative out there.”

You shrug, “I guess that makes sense...” You trail off for a moment. 

He obviously didn’t seem comfortable talking about what exactly he does since he avoided your question so you try to dance around it. 

“How did you get into your…art?”

The man shrugs, starting to fiddle with his glass again. “I think…It started as a way to express myself I suppose. Most art does. Then I just never stopped. I think of it as an escape if that makes sense.”

You nod firmly, once again thumbing through your book. 

“It does. I think that’s why I love reading so much…”

The conversation continues smoothly after that, the strangers seeming more open to talk as you both ramble on about everything and nothing. He asks you about what book you’re reading and you tell him, surprised to find he’s familiar with the author. You both just ramble on from things as simple as interests to eventually arguing about drinks of choice. 

Soon enough you’re on your fourth drink - a first for you really - and laughing about some story he had told you about a friend of his. 

“No way!” You exclaim through broken laughter, cheeks warm from both the alcohol and the sound of his laughter.  “I don’t believe it.”

He shakes his head hand placed over his chest, “I swear it.”

“Oh my god that is…” your words devolve into more laughter as you take another sip of your drink. 

Your new friend goes to speak again but cuts himself off as his phone buzzes on the bar top. His smile falls, only slightly, as his eyes scan the screen before he lets out a small sigh, Turing the screen off and tapping the phone against the solid wood beneath it.

“Duty calls,” he says ruefully, moving to stand as he pulls a pen from his pocket and scribbles something onto a dry drink napkin. 

You sit up straighter now, fighting off the pang of disappointment as he starts to pull his jack on. 

“Work?” 

He shrugs, sending you another one of those half smiles. “Something like that,” he says before pulling out what is obviously way too much money for his two drinks and tucks it and the napkin beneath his glass. 

“Get home safe,” he says, before turning to push his way through the mass of bodies. 

“You too!” You call after him, hoping he heard you over the din of the room. 

A low whistle catches your attention from where you watch the him exit the bar, and you turn to see Ryland has joined you once again. His eyes are bright as he looks at the empty place beside you, the cash and napkin in his hand as his eyes scan over it. 

“What?” You ask, leaning forward to get a peek at the note.

Ryland sends you a wicked grin. “Seems like someone made a good impression,” he chuckles, shwoing you the napkin. “Your tab is payed for, love.”

‘For the lady’s drinks as well. keep the rest.’

The handwriting was surprisingly neat, a mix between print and cursive as it flows across the delicate paper. You glance back up at Ryland as he whistles again. 

“Damn good tipper too, at that,” he admires. “Hope he comes back.”

It’s then, as your friend is drooling over his tip and you glance back down at the note in you hand that your realize it. 

You never even learned his name.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

It’s several types typical days at the bar before you see him again, and to say you’re surprised is an understatement. It had been almost a week since the night you met him, and you had resigned yourself to the fact that you’d probably never see him again. 

So, when you walk into the much calmer bar tonight, your eyes don’t search the room. Instead you make a beeline to your usual seat, waving at Ryland as you do. You hand barely meets the wooden back of the tall chair before a high pitched whistle sounds from behind you, turning several heads in the pub, including yours. 

You csilently curse the way your heart leaps in your chest as you find the source, a familiar face raises a glass from a booth in the back before waving you over. However, unlike last time, he’s not alone. There are three other guys sitting with him at the table, all eyes on you as you glance from them, back to your usual seat, before falling to Ryland. 

Your friend, who stands in front of you now gives you a scathing look. “Girl if you sit down in the chair I just might kick you out. Go,” he points to the table before walking off. 

You can’t stop the chuckle that leaves your lips as you listen to him, hand falling from your familiar place in order to walk towards the back table. 

The stranger from before assess you as you approach, eyes trailing from your face to your feet then back up again, and you can’t stop the shiver that runs up your spine at the action. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. 

You give him a confused look. “I did tell you I was a regular here right?” You ask. “I should be the one saying that about you.” 

He smiles, “Oh I didn’t forget,” he assures you. “How could I forget this place’s best customer?” 

“Oi, quit flirting and let the lady sit down!” One of the other guys at the table interrupts, leaning over from his place next to you to push out the last free chair as he looks at your strange companion. “You haven’t even introduced us.”

At the mention of an introduction, the man seems to freeze, as if he too realizes just like you did last time, that you never exchanged names. 

“Well…Uh, this is-”

You interject quickly with your name, sticking your hand out to the one who had pulled out the chair for you. He laughs at your formal greeting and playfully swats your hand away as he stands. 

“We’re the hugging type I’m afraid, but-” he pulls you into a quick hug before ushering you into your seat, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m iv”

You look at him puzzled for a moment, as you take your seat, spotting closer to the table. 

“Four like… like the number?” You ask, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. 

The man laughs, as if he expected that reaction and nods. 

“You heard right. I’m iv,” he gestures to the man to his right, who has shorter white hair, “This here’s iii, and that-” he points to the man sitting next to your friend, “is ii. And well, you already know Ves.”

Your slight confusion must show on your face as laughter erupts from the table, the boys nudging one another as they all pause to take sips from their various drinks. The one named iii waves his hand in a dismissive manner, shaking his head. 

“It’s a bit of an…inside joke I guess. Nicknames we gave each other that just kind of stuck,” he explains.

You nod at his explanation, still perplexed but accept it nonetheless. And plus, now you know the name of the mystery man from last visit. 

Ves. 

You wonder if that is some sort of nickname too. 

However, you don’t dwell too long on that fact before the conversation last time with Ves comes to the front of your mind. With brows drawn together, you lean over slightly towards Ves, pointing a wandering finger towards the other three guys. 

“Wait, so was one of them the one that went streaking through the park after a night of drinking?”

The grin that splits Ves’ face is all you need to know the answer as a cacophony of groans and loud protests erupt from the table. But it’s not until iii slaps his hands on the table as he leans forward with a betrayed look on his face. 

“Ves, really man? We promised we’d take that shit to the grave! Why are you out here dissing me like that?”

The only response iii gets is a laugh from Ves and soon the other guys follow, elbowing their friend and tossing teases across the table, and before you know it, you join in too. 

***

The night goes on much like that, more stories of their wild times together coming to light, and they even get you to spill some more embarrassing, albeit funny, memories from your college days. Its through these conversations that you determine the must have been friends for a while, and you smile at the thought of what other antics they could get up too. 

This time, and idle chatter also reveals something else to you. 

More black paint. 

It’s still apparent on Ves’ hands like last time, although it looked like he tried to do a better job of scrubbing it away. The same couldn’t be said be said for the other guys. The dark pigment adorns their skin in small amounts much the same way as it did Ves’ the first time you met him. It’s mainly prominent on the ridges of their knuckles and fingernails, sometimes on their wrists when you can see the skin form where their shirts or jackets ride up. You even notice a particularly larger smear on the side of ii’s neck when he lens back to laugh particularly hard at some lame joke you said. 

It’s probably nothing, they probably all work together, it would make sense. But no matter how many times you try to ignore it, your curiosity won’t let it slide. 

And ii notices. Probably from when you let your eyes linger on him a bit too long when you noticed the paint. 

He takes a swing of his beer before gesturing to you with the glass. “Alright, out with it,” he says casually, “I know I’m attractive but nobody stares at me like that.”

iii reaches across the table and swats at his shoulder. “Oi, don’t be so full of yourself mate-”

iv joins in on the banter. “Yeah, we all know I’m the best looking-”

Playful banter breaks out at this, the lot of them seeming to forget about the question ii even asked you, and in the break from the spotlight, you eye drift over to Ves. 

Only to see him already looking at you, a pensive look on his face. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you look away quickly, reaching for your glass to take another drink as your eyes fall to your watch. 

Holy shit, it’s late. 

You let out a small huff, quickly downing the last of your drink before setting the glass back on the table with a soft thunk. 

“I have to head out,” you say, turning to gather your purse before moving to stand. 

The announcement brings out a chorus of protests and pleas to stay but you shake your head. 

“I don’t know what you all do for work but I have to be up in...” You look exaggeratedly at your watch, “oh five hours, so with that-” you reach into your purse and pull out several larger bills, laying them on the table, “Drinks are on me tonight as a thank you for a lovely evening.”

More protest follow, but you wave them off and before you know it the three guys you met earlier are out of their seats and giving you hugs as if you’ve known them for years, murmurs of ‘see you around’ and ‘drive safe’ meeting your ears before they back off. 

Then, Ves’ is in front of you before you can blink, and it’s only now that you seem to realize just how huge he is. Well, in reality, he’s not the tallest person you’ve ever seen but he still towers over you and has a…presses about him you can’t seem to place. 

You look up at him and smile as he holds your coat up in his hands, having retrieved it from the back of your seat before you could. He helps you as you slip your arms through the sleeves, and you turn back to him, smile still tugging at your lips. 

“Thanks.”

Ves nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“I can walk you to your car,” he offers, nodding to the windows. “It’s dark.”

You shake your head in an automatic response, “You don’t have to do that-”

Ves’ is steering you towards the door before you can finish, “I insist.”

The boys call out their goodbyes as you leave, and Ves just chuckles as you make for the door. 

“They liked you,” he says as he pushes open the door, holding it for you until you’re both out in the crisp night air. 

You laugh, turning right to head towards your car parked just down the street. 

“I liked them too, they’re a riot,” you say fondly. “I can see why you’re all friends. They seem like good people.”

Ves smiles softly at this, nodding his agreement. “They are - basically saved my life a time or two.”

A silence falls over you too then, neither of you sure what to say as you lead him further down the sidewalk, your car now in view. The only sound is the soft thudding of shoes on concrete and your own breathing. 

Your over active mind races for something to fill the silence, but you reach your destination before you can think of anything, and you try to swallow the disappointment you feel as your night draws to a close. 

“Well,” you say, pulling out your keys, “this is me.” 

You turn to face Ves, your back to your car as he stops just a few steps from you, closer than would be considered normally appropriate. 

Not that you’re complaining. 

He looks down at you again, features obscured by the shadows casted by the street lamps. But he seems to be studying you, that curious tilt to his head making your heart stutter slightly. 

“It was nice to see you again,” he says finally, voice gentle in the quiet night.

“It was nice to see you too,” you say, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth in a moment of contemplation. “I had been looking for you. Before tonight.” You admit. 

His brows raise at that, slight surprise painting his features. 

“Really?” 

You chuckle, “Yeah. I remembered after you left that we never even learned each others names and…it was silly. But I’m glad I got to see you again.”

Ves smiles at your words just a small gust of wind blows though, sending a shiver through you as part of your scarf falls down from around your neck. He reaches up instinctively to adjust the fabric, his knuckles brushing the underside of your jaw as he tugs it back into place. 

“Well,” he breathes, “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

You’re looking up at him again, closer than ever and you can barely muster the weak ‘yeah’ that falls from your lips, before his hand drops back to his side. 

“Have a good night, love.” 

And then he’s walking back towards the pub. 

Your mind is racing again, and like a total dumbass you blurt the first thing that comes to your mind. 

“Baby oil!” You call out, stopping the tall man in his tracks as he turns to send you a very confused look. 

“For the paint,” you clarify, gesturing to your own hands. “Baby oil gets paint off pretty good. Better than soap and water.”

Ves smiles, and just nods turning back to continue his journey.

But even from this far away, the silent night allows you to hear that deep laughter slip from his lips. 

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Today was one of the bad days.

Everyone has them, you know they do, today is just your turn, you suppose. You don’t have many of them, or at least - you don’t go to the pub when you do. But even Ryland notices your dour mood, noticing right away when you by pass your usual seat without so much as a wave in favor of picking the tiny booth at the very back of the establishment. 

He only offers a small pat on the shoulder as he drops off your usual drink, muttering a quiet offering of solidarity before walking back off.

It feels stupid. To be this upset when nothing even really happened. Your car didn’t break down, you didn’t have a partner dump you, you didn’t get laid off, it’s just-

The tears seem to come without warning. Burning at the back of your eyes, lower lip wobbling in an attempt to stop the onslaught of tears and the sob clawing at your chest. 

Get it together!! You scream at yourself, frustration further fueling the tears. 

Life just sucks sometimes for no particular reason it seems. 

Work is overwhelming, your hobbies aren’t interesting, your house too quiet it seemed to scream at you instead of comfort you. 

You take a sip of your drink, wiping furiously at the tears that escape as you do so. 

You’re thankful you chose the booth seat facing away from everyone. How embarrassing to be a caught in a pub crying  over -

“Fancy seeing you here.”

The all to familiar voice shocks you from your own mind and you jump in your seat, making the mistake of looking over your shoulder to see none other than Ves. 

“Oh my god,” you mutter wiping hastily at your cheeks as you watch his lips turn downwards in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, coming closer despite your inner desire for him to leave. 

You shake your head, wiping your nose for good measure as you stare down into your drink. 

“Nothing,” you say, voice clogged with emotion. “Don’t worry about it.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself when you realize he’s sliding in the booth across form you. Plastering on a watery smile you clutch your glass between your hands as you look at him. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you try to say casually, but fail miserably. 

Ves just shakes his head, eyes soft as he rests his clasped hands on the table before him. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, “not with me.”

“Do what?” You say, lip trembling again as your tears bubble up once more. 

“Pretend you’re okay, when you’re not.”

The laugh you let out is a bitter thing, small and broken by the tears that drip from your eyes that you wipe away again and again. 

Ves doesn’t say anything as you try to compose yourself again, but you find yourself unable to, and he eventually stops you from fruitlessly wiping away tears by reaching up to take one of them in his own. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks again, somehow even gentler than before. 

All you can do is shrug, tears salty against your tongue as you lick your lips. 

“Nothing, really,” you say again, continuing when he looks like he’s going to argue. 

“I’m just…sad. Don’t know why.”

Ves nods understandingly, thumb swiping comfortingly over your knuckles. He doesn’t say anything. Maybe because he doesn’t know what to say or maybe because he knows it won’t really matter. Either way you appreciate his presence - it’s nice to know someone is here, even if no words are shared. 

After a few quiet moments, he grabs a drink napkin with his free hand, offering it to you. 

You take it, fingers brushing his own and notice something that takes your mind off of your own turmoil. 

“The paint’s gone,” you say softly, turning his hand over to inspect it. 

You glance up only to see Ves’ lips twitch upwards ever so slightly. 

“Baby oil,” he says, “who knew?”

His words make you let out a soft chuckle, and he joins in, his hand never leaving yours. 

And suddenly, you’re not so sad anymore. 

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Laughter bubbles up from your chest as you and the boys spill out of the bar into the cold night air.  Your breaths materializing in front of you in puffs of white steam. iii is hanging of off iv’s shoulder, doubled over in laughter at something that someone said - you can’t even keep track of the conversation anymore, laughter cutting most of it off anyways. 

However, after a few more long moments of racouys laughter, iii perks up brows raised slightly as he looks to you. 

“Holy shit I almost forgot,” he says, letting got go iv to address you now. “You’re coming tomorrow night right?”

You send him a quizzical look before looking over to Ves where he stands next to you, only to see him waving his hand in front of his throat in a ‘cut it out’ motion, stopping abruptly when you catch him. 

“Go where?” You ask, curiosity piqued. 

You watch as ii rolls his eye, “Come on Ves,” he groans. “We already decided to extend the invitation.”

You hear Ves let out a huff, running a hand through his hair as you speak up again, confusion turning into annoyance. 

“What are you guys talking about?” You ask, exasperation lacing your words. 

It’s iv who speaks up this time, wrapping an arm around iii.

“There’s a concert tomorrow,” he says grinning. “We have an extra ticket and wanted you to come.”

“A concert?” You ask, turning to Ves only to see an almost imperceptible blush tinging his cheeks. “Why are you so worked up about a concert?”

Ves huffs again, shaking his head as he digs around the inside of his jacket for something. “I’m not worked up,” he grumbles, finally finding what he was searching for and pulling it out. “I just-”

II interrupts Ves with a clap on the shoulder and a shit eating grin on his face. “He’s just mad because he wanted to be the one to ask you.”

Ves shrugs his hand off his shoulder and lands a playful punch to his friends arm, mumbling something about being a prick and he’d pay for that later, before he turns to you, offering you what you realize now is a small badge attached to a lanyard. 

“Here,” he says, softer than when he addressed iv. “It’s VIP, just show up an hour before show time and they’ll tell you where to go.”

You take it from him, the black lanyard soft beneath your fingers as you examine the item. The badge is sturdier than you expected, seeming to be made of metal instead of plastic. it’s all black with a red symbol you’ve never seen before printed on both sides the name of the band printed just beneath it with the words ‘VIP PASS’ below that. The lanyard itself is black with white lettering echoing the same as the badge. 

Sleep Token.

Huh. You’ve never heard of them before, but that doesn’t surprise you as you haven’t been a huge music buff most of your life. Then, as if Ves’ words finally register with you, you look up at him again, brows pinched in confusion once more. 

“Wait. They’ll show me where to go - are you guys not coming with me?” You ask, “Because this ticket it wasted on me if you guys don’t come, I don’t even know the band-”

“Oh we’ll be there,” iii laughs from his place next to iv.

The boys all laugh at his words, leaving you feeling utterly left out of some inside joke they have. But before you can get to worked up about it, a warm hand reaches out to take your own that holds the pass. 

“Don’t worry about them,” Ves says, rolling his eyes. “Give me your phone.”

You comply without really thinking about it, watching as the much taller man takes it from you and types something into it before handing it back. 

“There. I put in my number, just text me when you get there tomorrow and we’ll find each other.”

You nod, stomach fluttering as your fingers brush his when you take your phone back and pocket it. 

“Sounds good.”

ii claps his hands together, seemingly satisfied with tonights events. “Alight, now that’s settled we probably need to get going. Big day tomorrow boys!”

The rest of the group whoops in agreement, grouping together as they head down the sidewalk, only Ves lingering behind at your side. Only when he gestures towards your car down the street do you realize he wants to walk you there. 

“Oh, right,” you say, chuckling softly as warmth rushes to your cheeks. 

You’ve been getting unusually flustered around him lately, unable to control the fluttering in your chest when he’s around. 

It’s silent for a moment before you break it, gesturing with the pass to the guys ahead. 

“This must be some band for them to be this excited about it.”

Ves laughs at that, an actual laugh deep from his chest instead of the usual soft chuckles he gives you. 

“Yeah, they…You could say it’s a huge part of our lives,” he says.

You hum softly, looking back down at the pass. 

“Well then, I’m sure I’ll like them if you all enjoy them this much. Ill try to listen to some of their songs on the way home-”

“No!” Ves interjects, voice loud on the quiet street as you both come to a stop in front of your car.

He clears his throat when you give him a withering look, caught off guard by his outburst. 

“I just…” he begins, “they’re best live,” he tells you, rubbing the back of his neck. “Promise you won’t listen to them before the concert tomorrow.”

His eyes seem to be pleading with you, and you can’t find it in you to deny him despite your curiosity. 

“Okay…I’ll wait until tomorrow.”

Ves sighs, relief evident in the way his shoulders drop ever so slightly, and before you can even blink his face is right next to your own, warm lips pressing quickly to your cheek before he’s back out of your space, grinning like a fool.

“Good. See you tomorrow night.”

And all you can do is stare, stunned silly, as he jogs to catch up with his friends. 

You only realize when you pull into your driveway that you never got the location of the concert, or the start time at the same exact moment your phone pings with a message. It’s from an unknown number but lists an address and a time, followed quickly by a second less cryptic message. 

Hope you got home safe. See you tomorrow.

-V

* * * *

Even though you get to the concert venue an hour early like Ves told you too, it’s already packed. You almost don’t find parking until you get lucky with a street spot a few blocks over. When you finally make it to the entrance the line is down the block and seems to keep going. You look around for a line labelled for VIP, anything to tell you where to go, but all you see is the sign pointing to the long line for general admission. 

You pull your phone from your pocket, pulling up Ves’ number to shoot him a quick text. 

‘Hey! I’m here but I don’t see a sign for VIP…where are you guys?’

You wait less than a minute before a response comes through.

‘V: We’re running way later than expected. Find an attendant, they should be able to point you in the right direction.’

You huff at the message anxiety gnawing at your mind as you bit your lip. Late? You don’t know anything about this band or this venue, you don’t really want to go in without them-

“Miss?” 

A voice behind you makes you jump, turning to see a younger looking man with tattoos put his hands up in mock surrender as he chuckles. He’s wearing a t-shirt with the same logo as your lanyard.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says kindly, gesturing to your lanyard. “You’ve got a VIP pass. I can get you to where you need to go.”

“Oh,” you say, looking down to the pass hanging around your neck. “Yeah I was just texting my friend about where to go I don’t…” you hesitate for a moment. “I’ve never been to one of these before.”

The man smiles, holding a hand out as he gestures for you to follow him towards a side entrance to the venue. 

“That’s alright. In your defense we don’t have the best signage for VIP’s,” he chuckles. “We don’t get many of them.”

Surprise tugs at your chest at his words.

“You don’t?” You ask, “My friends are supposed to meet me here, will they know where to go?”

The man chuckles at this, eyes glimmering with mischief as he looks over to you before opening the door to head inside.

“I think they’ll be fine.”

You follow him inside the venue and marvel at the gargantuan space as he shows you around. The stage is set up, lights on but not moving and the bands logo projected onto the back wall of the stage. The venue looks big enough to hold thousands of people. The floor closest to the stage is void of seats, allowing for people to stand up close to the stage while stadium like seats art up about half way back and up all around the room. 

“So this is it,” He says as he brings you up to the side of the front of the stage on the floor, right next to the barricade in a small roped off section separating you from the rest of the open floor seating. “They’re going to be letting GA in here in a few minutes and concert starts soon after that,” he extends his hand to you. “My name’s Sam by the way, if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask someone.”

You smile, your nerves from earlier dissipating slightly at the thought of knowing someone here as you take his hand.

“Thanks, Sam.”

He smiles back, before his phone buzzes in his hand. He looks down at it before waving it in the air slightly. 

“Duty calls. Enjoy the concert!”

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone in the big empty room waiting for your friends.

* * *

‘Ves, where are you guys???’

Your text has gone unread for several minutes, but your nerves are at an all time high as the room around you continues to fill with excited concert goers. The doors had opened half an hour ago and the room was already packed to the brim, people who had floor seats rushing in to be the first at the barricades as the start time drew closer. 

You send another hurried text, looking around you in hopes that Ves and the guys would show up any second. 

‘The concert is about to start!’

For a brief moment, dread settles in the pit of your stomach. What if this is some cruel joke being played on you. What if they bailed last minute and decided not to come, leaving you here by yourself. An ache settles in your chest as the fleeting memory of lips agasint your chilled cheek flashes before your eyes and you go to send another text. 

‘Ves…please tell me you guys are coming.’

As if on command, the room around you goes pitch black, the crowed around you erupting into a deafening roar as the stage lights slowly come to life with the sounds of harsh guitar strings flooding through the speakers. 

You phone lights up with a text message. 

‘V: We’re right here’

The crowds roar around you continues to crescendo as the music flows from the speakers, the blue lights on the stage illuminating a sole figure emerging in the center of the stage to greet the adoring crowd as the drums behind him explode in a rhythmic beat. 

You don’t have time to try to direct Ves’s message, your attention draw and held captive by the presence now on stage. 

They approach the front of the stage, just mere yards from you where a microphone stand sits, and you’re immediatly observing the sight in front of you. It’s a man, that you’re now sure of. He moves to the beat, the black cloak he wears billowing out behind him. He’s not wearing a shirt but any skin that would be showing is covered in black paint - from the portion of his face not hidden by a hood and face mask to his chest and right down to the fingers now wrapping around the microphone.  

The mask is obviously the most striking thing. White with a red symbol of the band painted on the front, missing the lower half to leave his mouth free to sing. 

Which he does. 

The vocalist starts to sing into the microphone, a song unfamiliar to you, but no less enchanting as a streak of familiarity zings though you. His voice sounds familiar in a far off distant way - and for a moment you wonder if you have heard this band before somewhere. 

Without really thinking, you find yourself swaying to the beat, foot tapping against the ground as the bas reverberates through the room. Your eyes flit from the lead singer to another figure you see drifting across the stage, guitar slung over his shoulders as he plays. 

He’s also masked, visible skin inked in black and the suit jacket he wears having a hood pulled up over his head. 

In fact, all the members of the band wear masks with any visible skin painted black. From the drummer to the back up singers to the other bass guitarist now waltzing along the stage towards the section your standing in. You notice as he get’s closer that he’s the only one not wearing a hood, his ash white hair flipping this way and that as he moves to the beat. 

As if sensing your specific gaze on him, the bass player looks up from his guitar strings to where you stand, and sends you a playful wink before turning back the way he came, all but swaggering off. 

It all seems to click into place in an instant, your eyes going wide as they flick from the shock of white hair back up to the lead singer, who’s now pulled the microphone from the stand and walking to your side of the stage, never missing a single word of the song. 

He stops right in front of where you stand, an the crowd behind you goes wild as he reaches out towards them, before bringing just slightly to look directly at you, sending you an almost imperceptible smile before he’s up and back the way he came. 

You can’t stop the laughter that erupts from your lips as realization sets in, you finally push past your confusion to join the crowd in jumping and clapping and trying your best to sing along to songs you’ve never heard before. 

It feels like you blink and the entire time passes by going from upbeat high energy songs to slower more emotionally charged ones. You find yourself completely drawn into the whole experience, especially on the soft songs, and you can tell that parts of himself were poured into them when they were written.

In no time the concert is drawing to a closer the last notes of the set flowing through the speakers as the crowd erupts into more deafening screams and cheering as Ves’ bows thankfully to the arena. You just barely manage to catch it as he looks over to you, turning and placing his hands together in a ‘thank you’ motion before you feel a gentle hand on your elbow. You turn to find Sam, the one who lead you in earlier, gesturing off to the side of the stage. 

“Come with me!” He calls, struggling to be heard over the crowd. 

You nod, casting one last glance over your shoulder before you’re lead out of the main arena to the backstage area. 

“So, what did you think?” Sam asks, genuine curiosity lacing his words. 

You smile wide, adrenaline still coursing through you from the excitement. 

“It was amazing! I’m just sad I didn’t know the songs…”

Sam let out a small laugh, “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to learn them all someday,” he says before coming to a stop in front of a door towards the back of the backstage area. “You can wait in here. Vessel and the others should be by shortly.”

Vessel…

You don’t have time to dwell on the name reveal as Sam opens the door and ushers you inside and barely has time to close it behind you before a round of raucous laughter and cheers assault you as three of your four friends all but jump you as you enter. 

You laugh and hug them all, noticing that their masks are now gone, replaced with the familiar faces you recognize, just streaked with black paint. 

“I can’t believe you guys!” You exclaim once the noise dies down a little bit. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were in a band?”

iii waves a dismissive hand at you, moving to plop back into the couch in the center of the room. “Where’s the fun in that?” He teases, taking a water bottle that iv hand him. 

“Yeah,” iv agrees, taking a seat by iii, “it’s all part of the fun, love.”

You roll your eyes, turning youthful attention to ii who has yet to say anything from his place propped agains the edge of the couch. When he notices your eyes on him, he throws his hands up in surrender. 

“Don’t look at me, I was the one who wanted to tell you. These blokes,” his eyes shift to look at something behind you, “and him - outvoted me.”

You turn to face the object of ii’s attention, only to be met with a familiar towering form, the white and red mask still in place. Now that you’re able to see him up close, you can’t help the way your eyes roam. He truly is imposing like this - not in a bad way - but he seems to take on a different persona adorned in the costume. You take note of the paint still on his skin, but noticeably patchier from where it rubbed off or has dripped away due to the thin sheen of perspiration coming through. And from this close, you’re able to fully see the mask he wears, the intricate details and the way the eye holes are formed to create the illusion of there being 3 sets of eyes instead of just two. 

There’s so many thoughts running through your head, yet the only thing that you’re brain manages to verbalize is a very simple, and quiet - 

“Hi.”

Ves chuckles at this, the sound low and deep as it reverberates through his chest.

“Hi,” he mimics before casting a glance behind you. 

He must have silently communicated with the other guys because you soon hear rustling behind you as the al stand and start to move towards you, and thus the exit. They all murmur quick goodbyes to you, telling you and Ves to come find them later and you al can go out for drinks again, until eventually it’s just you and Ves alone in the room.

Neither of you have moved and you can feel a certain tension in the air that either of you have left to break. Until you finally work up the courage to speak. 

“So…Vessel?” 

The word comes out as a question, and you watch silently as he lets out a small huff, lips quirking upward in a small smile. 

“I figured ‘Ves’ was a more socially acceptable way of introducing myself,” he jokes, reaching up to tap the mask. “Despite what you might think, I don’t try to scare people away.”

He pauses for a moment, hands clenching at his sides slightly before he speaks again.

“So…what do you think?”

You can’t help but perk up at his question, flashes of the concert coming back to you immediately as you practically bounce on your toes. 

“What do I think?” You repeat, exasperated. “Ves, that was amazing! I might not have known the songs that well but it was phenomenal…”

Your words come out faster than you can really control, rambling on about everything you loved about the concert and their music. You’re so caught up in recalling the recent events that you fail to notice as Ves moves ever closer to you, eliminating the space between you both.

“And then when you were on the piano and singing that song I could just tell that you poured your heart into it and it reminded me of that night at the bar when I was upset and you -”

Your words are cut off before you can continue, large calloused hands cradling your cheeks as warm lips capture your own in a kiss that takes your breath away. You barely even notice the way the mask he wears presses into your cheek until one of his hands leave your skin in order to pry the offending article up and off his head, lips breaking from yours only momentarily before kissing you once more. 

You hands fall to his sides instinctively, skin warm beneath your palms as your try to pull him closer.  He obliges your request by moving to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you too him until he eventually breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against your own as you both struggle for breath. 

“You are truly amazing,” he says softly, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. 

You pull away from him then, just enough to look up and capture his gaze with your own, heat flooding your cheeks. 

“You’re one to talk,” you jest lightly, reaching up to wipe at the pain smudged on his cheeks. 

“Never in a million years would I have guessed you literally cover yourself in paint. I thought you were a painter!” You exclaim.

Vessel laughs at that, eyes crinkling at the corners as he does so. 

“Well, I guess technically I am a painter-”

“Not what I meant,” you argue, reaching up to wipe at something tickling your cheek. 

Vessel reaches up and grabs your hand before you can wipe your cheek again, eyes widened slightly. 

“Stop, you’ve got paint…” 

You glance at your hand in his, only to see black paint smeared over your palms from where you’d touched him earlier. 

“Here,” he says, reaching up to wipe at the smudge you assume is now on your face.

However, his nose scrunches up as he does so. “Oh…” he tries to wipe it again. “I - I’m just not helping at all really-”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles as you imagine him just smearing more paint around in an effort to clean it up, and he soon joins in before reaching grabbing the corner of his cloak to use instead. 

He takes your chin between his fingers, tilting your head to one side as he used the piece of fabric to delicately wipe away the traces of paint. His eyes trial over your features as he works, taking you in until he eventually drops the fabric back to his side in favor of cradling your face in his hands once more. 

“I really want to kiss you again,” he whispers, eyes shimmering with mischief.

You smile.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

And then his lips are on yours, and you couldn’t be happier for that busy night at the bar all those weeks ago. 

[mappedfantasy]

> wash me clean again

summary: vessel is far too exhausted to wash off his own body paint, so you help him. pairing: vessel x gn!reader warnings/tags: sleepy!vessel, roommate!vessel, bf!vessel, clingy!vessel, use of petnames (darling, babe), established relationship, showering together, size difference, praise, touch starvation, biting as a love language, begging, making out, non-sexual intimacy, slightly suggestive (if you want to view it that way), reader heavy dialogue. word count: 1.1k a/n: read this fic by @badomensgoodomens the other day and felt inspired to write something of my own based on the same concept. thank you for making it, very sweet, loved it <3

ao3 link

You hear Vessel faintly calling for you from the bathroom. 

“Darling?”

You push the bathroom door open to find him sitting down in the bathtub with the shower running. Your heart crumples in your chest at the sight of him. Poor thing. It only worsens when he lifts his head, puppy-dog eyes catching yours as if to plead. He looks fucking exhausted.

“Darling, can you help me?” he asks, voice at almost the same volume with the water, lowering for the sake of saving whatever energy he can.

This is when you notice that the washcloth in his hand is stained gray, and that his body paint has low effort scrubbing streaks. 

“Yeah.” You drop down to a squat at the side of the tub, reaching for the washcloth from his hands. 

He snatches it away, low in attempt. “You’ll get the floor wet.” God, he’s nearly whining. You catch a glimpse of a frowned pout on his lips. 

You push yourself, hands on your knees, into a standing position. You begin to slip off your clothes, discarding them into a pile on the floor. A hand slides the shower curtain over even more so than it was open before, like that wasn’t getting the floor wet. 

“Vess, let me help you up,” you tell him gently, offering a hand down for him to take.

And he does. He takes your hand in his, becoming easily engulfed by the size difference of you two. He gets to his feet with a small stumble. Being this wrecked surely was making his head foggy, maybe enough to spin. You slip in, in front of him, closing the curtain behind you.

“That’s it.” You guide his hand to your shoulder, to keep him steady. He keeps the other on the shower wall after handing you the washcloth finally. 

You begin to wash his stomach. The touch is full of love despite the pressure you have to put down to get the paint to come off. 

“Are you really tired, hm?” You ask him, flickering your eyes up for a second to try at meeting his. 

But his eyes are closed, trying to get himself through this from what it seems. “Mhm…” he gets out. It’s muddled and taut. 

Moving upwards his chest, you wash out a spot enough to plant a kiss in, then change to a graze of a bite that was stronger resemblance to your teeth scraping against his skin. He groans out quietly, barely there at all. 

“Can you do that again?” He asks you. You both knew you could never say no to him. 

His stomach and chest have been stripped clean of black, remaining only his shoulders and neck. You apply more soap to these areas since it had run mighty thin from the other scrubbing. Exposing the pale skin of his shoulder under the dark makeup, you take a bite of him. Harder this time. By now, you knew he had a little thing for biting, was a love language to him. Vessel needed it. You feel a shiver shock through him. You land another nip onto his neck where you have to stand on your tiptoes to reach, lurching him down by the smallest hint. 

Vessel’s body slouches against yours, his back hunches over due to the height difference between the both of you. His cheek smooshes into your shoulder and his slickened skin slides along yours to rest his nose in the cranny where your neck and shoulder meet. You feel him huff subhumanly. His arms dangle beside him which almost brush your body. And one of your arms is wrapped around his lower back while the other gently washes at his sides to get rid of any residue paint there. His arms are slow in movement as they come around your back, resting low there, and gently pushing you closer to him. You use your nails just barely on his back, causing a low groan to come from Vessel’s mouth. 

“Fuck…” he drags the word out low, “that feels good.” He’s hushed, almost at a whisper if his voice wasn’t thick on getting those words out. 

Your mind can’t go there, and so, you won’t. You want to take care of him, softly. He deserves it firstly, but secondly, he also needs it. 

Instead, you hum in an agreeing tone. “Yeah?” Your nails go along his back, back and forth laggardly. “That feel good, babe?” You hope he picks up on the smile in your voice.

He grunts and you feel the brush of air on your neck again. You let out a small laugh, dry one. 

“Good,” you say.  

You throw the blackened cloth into the corner of the tub, bringing Vessel close to you in a hug. “I’m so proud of you,” you tell him. His body sinks further into yours, his weight becoming more of your responsibility than his. His lips press unhurried kisses into this side of your neck and down your shoulder. Retracting back, up, into his normal stance as much as he can bear with his fatigue. 

And you start to move back too. He needed to get into your bed as soon as he could get there. But he stops you. 

“One kiss. Please?” 

His face is brought down to you by your hands cupping his jaw, placing a tender kiss to his lips. They work slowly with yours as he makes another whine. You try to match the noise, licking into his mouth one good time before pulling away fully. 

“So lucky to have you,” you murmur to him.

Vessel looks at you with those same pleading eyes. “Can I have another? Just this one. Please?” 

Your lips catch his for one last kiss, relishing this one, him licking into your mouth this time. Whine.

That’s where you step away and cut off the water. You step out of the tub. You turn to hold your hand out for him to latch onto. And he does. You help him to not slip, his brain was not functioning at all if it was in any shape to work before. The two of you share a towel, not being arsed to use two separate ones. He nudges his head into your hand when you began to towel dry his hair. 

“How about we get you to bed, hmm?” You ask, tossing the towel somewhere into the bathroom. That, along with finding clothes, was a worry for a different time. Later, after Vessel had been taken care of, after he got some sleep.

He trails behind you like a lost pup. “Please.”

[babextoken]

𓍯𓂃Lovesick

mdni 18+

Summary: Vessel becomes fixated with you after you provide him some comfort at a party. Are you as gone for him, too? Pairing: Vessel x fem!reader wc: 4.7k head's up: vessel x you, smut with plot, friends to lovers, afab!reader, no y/n, oral sex (m receiving), pining + yearning, talk of male masturbation, texting, absolutely idiots in love, angst, bit of a slow burn (?), use of "good boy" and "good girl," tit play, couch sex, cowgirl, light choking, HEA, threats of waxing poetic about progressive metal

Taglist aka Situation Enjoyers™️: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @0hg00dgirl @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @cheomain @evisnotok

“On your knees….please. Yes, like that. Mmmmph. Thank you.”

Vessel can’t help but still be polite. He can’t believe his eyes. Nor the feeling of the night air on his hard cock. He’s floating above himself and watching himself get jerked off outside at a house party. It’s not enough that he feels the spit on your palm. That could be his hand and this is just an elaborate fantasy. One of many.

But it would be the first about you. You were untouchable. You’re just a friend…just a friend…just a friend…only a friend. 

“Can I use my mouth?”

Holy fuck. This is real life.

In his fantasies, no one asks. Vessel doesn’t dream about giving consent. He dreams of being craved. Taken. Always willing. His breath catches. 

“Hey, it’s ok,” you whisper, “we don’t have to anyth-“

“Do anything to me. Please.”

His head falls back with a soft thud against the house. Getting head was always fun but this felt therapeutic. You had, of course, asked Ves why he seemed down. You always asked him those kinds of things. “Someone who cares asks those things,” he’d told himself, “but someone who loves you does something about it.” Now you’re on your knees in the dirt sucking him off. How did this even happen?

𓍯𓂃earlier...

Vessel slumped in the couch and mindlessly dragged his fingers on his thigh. He had made his rounds and said “hi” to the people he wanted to talk to and smiled awkwardly at the people he sought to avoid or didn’t know. He deserved a little sit down after that. The past few months had put him in a rut. There was always a post-tour slump but this one hit different. Vessel felt down. Down because he had writer’s block. Down because it had been gloomy this week and the week before and before that etc etc. Down because his bed was cold. Thinking back on the hook-ups during tour already got boring. The old encounters going stale. Does he hook up again with someone randomly against his better judgement or does he deal with it?

On more than one occasion, Vessel had been accused of being naive when it came to love, to which he responded, “I’m just being cautious.” Where some might be naive about love and affection and throw themselves at the first person who did the bare minimum, Vessel was naive in that he just figured people were being nice or he just got lucky. Otherwise, people didn’t really want to mess with being in a relationship with a musician. They’re broody. They’re too busy. They’re married to their work. They’re full of themselves. Vessel internalized those things. Sure he was broody to begin with, but that was his brand. But everything else, sure, he could be married to his work and keep himself busy. “Just earth sign things!” Easy as that. And maybe one day someone else’s indifference towards commitment would rub off on him. His rumination is interrupted when the couch sinks a bit beside him and he feels a soft punch on his arm. 

“What does it mean when I don’t get ‘hi’ or your awkward smile, hm?”

His heart warms up a bit. It’s you. You teeter somewhere between “friend” and “good friend.” It’s always nice to see you but you leave it at that. You see each other when you see each other. He shrugs and looks over at you. “Didn’t see you. Bet you were hiding or something.” 

“Tsk. Fine. Maybe I was. We know too much about each other’s awkward little quirks,” you sigh. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to see you, though. How you been?”

Vessel laughs to himself, thinking of the miserable spiral you interrupted. “Imagine how much more awkward this could get if I told you the truth.” But you don’t laugh at his little self-deprecation. That makes him nervous. His insides churn. You’re just watching him, waiting to hear what he has to say. Why do you do that? So many people ask “how are you” because it’s polite…why do you care so much? “Look.” Vessel finally speaks again and flattens his hair. “I’m not great.” 

You shift and exhale softly. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He can see it in your eyes. You’re not trying to have some misery-loves-company-circlejerk. You have that same “mask” on as him. “Hate to hear that.” For a second Vessel feels something stir within him. Your tone is unenthusiastic but he knows it has nothing to do with him. He’s just glad to bond with someone, even if it’s over something lame like depression or whatever is eating at you both. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh just…general bullshit.” You shrug but Vessel knows whatever it is, you can’t just shrug it off. “Like if I’m so stuck, maybe this is where I’m meant to be. Even if it hurts.”

He makes an “o” shape with his mouth and is lost in thought. He has certainly felt that way before, but hearing you say it about yourself is heretical. He hates that you think that way. “No.”

“Oh. Well…alright. Thanks Ves, you healed me.” You chuckle dryly. He rolls his eyes and pats your leg. “So what’s got you down? For real.”

Vessel’s smile fades. “I feel…stuck as well. Just…going through the motions.” He scratches the back of his neck. “All the excitement of the last couple of months just…ripped from me. Gets hard to keep up with my emotions when I’m…frankly…bored. Bored of feeling this way. My own company.”

“I get that. Like you have to have things changing or moving all the time.”

“Exactly. Like some kind of jump that isn’t a substance or…whatever.”

“Hah…yeah… sometimes I just feel like…” you begin but pause.

“Like what?” Why are you blushing like that, he wonders idly. And why is it suddenly the cutest thing he’s ever seen?

“Uhm. I feel like…I need to get laid. That would fix me, right? Huge load of emotions and hormones released with someone you like…what could be better?”

“Oh is it that simple?” Vessel laughs. A genuine, warm laugh. You’re so silly, he just loves talking to you. And he loves how you laugh with him. He was scared for a second that you might take it personally, but he’s glad to see that you too have a sick sense of humor when you’re feeling unwell. 

“Maybe it is. Guess…we won’t know until…” you trail off.

“Until we try…” Vessel’s throat goes dry. He tries to swallow hard before nonchalantly scoping out how many people were on the patio. 

𓍯𓂃

Vessel always had to make things happen, and he was fucking exhausted from it. Now you were happening to him. You clued in on what he wanted when he suggested you both get some fresh air. Hell, you were the one who found the perfect spot for this tryst. 

“Y-you like doing that?” he whimpers. He can’t make out much of your features but he feels you nod and smile and…fuck, take him deeper in your mouth. He’s holding his breath. He knows he shouldn’t but if he doesn’t exert some kind of control over himself he’ll lose it. But when you grab his waist and start literally fucking your face with his cock he has to let go. He grips your hair, willing himself to resist overpowering you and thrusting harder against your movements. “Ffffff-fffuck.” He whimpers softly and bites at his lip… wishing you had kissed him before you got started so he could imagine it again while you savored every inch of him. His entire body shivers when you moan against his cock, making him realize you like the sound of his whimpers. His pathetic little pleas and moans.

“‘That feel good, Ves?” You whisper, stroking his cock as you catch your breath? “Hmm?”

He nods and whines, trying to not be loud. Thank god it was dark, otherwise you would have seen the tears threatening to spill. The way he bit his hand to keep from moaning out loud. What if you two got caught? What if another friend heard what you pulled from him? “Fuck…you’re gonna make me cum…”

“That’s a good boy.” Vessel feels his stomach drop as you start sucking him off again but with more enthusiasm. Like you need him to cum. And he does. But you don’t move…you keep your mouth on him. And he  might be the one cumming down your throat but he’s not claiming you. No. 

You. 

Own. 

Him. 

Somehow, and much to his delight, Vessel does not lose sleep over the ordeal or his new-found, all-consuming feelings for you. In fact, he’s never slept better. Sleeping once meant loud, restless dreams; now it means a nestling in and wondering about you before dozing off…imagining he’s holding you. He keeps telling himself it’s infatuation. It’ll go away. He’s just starstruck from the way you took care of him. But then…the ruminating started…

Each morning, Vessel wondered about you. Maybe today you’ll share something on Instagram that he can make a little comment on. Send a react. Yes, sure, you’re friends, but you’re not “close.” When he looked into your soft, sweet eyes the other night he wondered how a darling little thing like you learned to give head like that. Suddenly your life story became his Roman Empire. Were you a natural? Did someone give you gentle pointers the first few times? Or did you have to do it a lot to get good? Did you have to go jumping from man to man to find the love you so desperately craved? This made Vessel’s blood run cold. The thought of sweet, wonderful you merely being an option to other men. A small voice told Vessel that perhaps he himself was just an option. Maybe you did stuff like this a lot. One among many. Vessel chided this voice. Locked it in a dark little room with no ventilation. You were good. You wouldn’t use anyone. In fact, you probably did learn this from practice because who wouldn’t love you?

Vessel knows he’s being stupid. You two like each other but he won’t reach out. Then again, you don’t reach out either. That’s ok. He had no coherent plan of moving things forward. He was also terrified the spark you two shared would be gone if you tried hanging out again. What if you couldn’t handle his schedule? Or didn’t find it endearing when his moods never let up? What if that stupid voice was right? Most of the time, he resigned himself back to “I’ll see her when I see her,” and a cheeky wank to take the edge off. But that always left him feeling guilty. Empty. 

This particular morning he had been deep in thought about what your favorite position might be and how many times he could make you cum just from fucking you at a torturous pace that way. Today’s position of choice was doggy, but bent over his desk, on top of his notes from recording and writing sessions. That was what you deserved. You drove him to absolutely hopeless distraction…you should be bent over while he stands behind you, fingers melting into your flesh, holding you in place. He swears this will be the last time he jerks off thinking about you…but because of that he can’t help but edge himself. Thinking about you is easy. Not because you yourself are easy…but because Vessel realizes how naturally desirable you are. Seeing the way you took control and took care of him opened his mind to this entirely new world of fantasies. The heat blooming from his groin to his tummy made him stop for the third time. Yes, in this fantasy you were bent over for him…but there was more to it. You were doing him a favor. Good boys got to take breaks. Good boys stuck in a rut need to empty their brains and fill up their girlfriends. FUCK he wanted you to be his girlfriend so bad. And that thought scared him…as does the sound of his phone buzzing a few times. His train of thought vanishes along with his hard-on. Cursing whoever who messaging him this early, he grabs his phone but then makes the most embarrassing noise known to man. 

You: hey isn’t this a band you like?

the second message is the link to an instagram post

You: they’re doing a last minute show next weekend 

And sure enough, one of his favorite niche prog metal bands was playing in place of someone else at a local venue on Saturday. And tickets were dead cheap. Another message. 

You: if I knew anything about metal I’d go with you. Not sure how much fun I’d be 

Sirens! Flashing lights! All the bells and whistles going off in Vessel’s brain are firing. His inner little voices of reason (and everything in between) begin a debate.

“She’s flirting!” “Obviously, she’s flirting she sucked your dick.” “Can’t be that deep mate, she’s just now talking to you after a month.” “Sure it is, it is has to be flirting! She’s practically begging for you to invite her!”

Vessel: lol I could send you a playlist :)

“Mate, come on, what are you doing?” “Invite her over to hear the playlist. That’ll will be cute” “and then fuck her. Fuck her like the sl—“

Vessel rolls over and screams in his pillow. He will not have a meltdown over this.

Vessel: or we could throw you in feet first? Come with me? 

… … … 

Those infernal fucking “typing” bubbles are killing him. 3 minutes of that. Then no response. Vessel isn’t sure what he did wrong or if he did do anything wrong. He tries to go about his day but there’s still that nagging suspicion that he did too much. But when he least expects it…

You: sorry this is so last minute. are you busy tonight? 

Vessel: no, I’m not. Why?

He bites his lip as he waits to see what you’re planning. He wonders if you want to talk about what happened…or maybe do it again…or maybe act like nothing happened. 

You: I just don’t want to be alone tonight.  Vessel: I don’t want to be either.

It’s set then. He’ll go to your place…maybe have some drinks…maybe get a chance to thank you for the fun. He wanted to taste you. To make you cum like he did for you. Too many nights he spent wondering what you’re into. He had cast you in his mind as a soft domme, probably just because that’s what tickled his fancy at the time. But you had this caring…almost nurturing sense about you that night. You touched him like he was precious…like he would break if you didn’t take your time. He wanted to show you he was tougher than that. He could take it. The mere thought of even getting a chance to kiss you and make you feel even a fraction of the pleasure you gave him made his cock twitch. The time between now and when he was reunited with you would be torture.

But when he gets to your place, he doesn’t feel confident enough to act smooth or even touch you. If anything, he wanted to touch your hair. Literally just brush back the strands you missed when you tucked it behind your ear. Finally he musters the courage to stand beside you as you’re getting him some water. You’ve sucked his dick, the least he can do is move your hair. He moves in for the kill…but perhaps a bit too fast, because just as his hand reaches your personal space, you turn your head to look up at him and... receive a cheek full of Vessel knuckles. 

He moves quickly to cup your face, desperate to show you he didn’t mean to whack you, but he’s greeted with a surprised chuckle and your smile. Not that one you put on for friends or staged photos…your real smile. He could die happy right now. Just absolutely melt. If he ever wanted to write true, honest to god love ballads he would think back to this moment. This gooey, gushy feeling. He feels confident, the same confidence the mask gives him, and presses a soft kiss where he accidentally got you.

“Ves…” 

You still smile but he sees something behind your eyes. Vessel keeps his hands on your face…his heart breaking and stomach dropping. He had noticed you weren’t posting regularly on your socials and even then you seemed a bit less animated. He’s learned your tells. There’s smudges from yesterday’s eyeliner that somehow looks effortless but still betrays the fact that you didn’t wash your face last night. In his mind, Vessel likened you to a shrinking violet. The kindest, most gorgeous girl who ever graced him with her presence trying to hide herself away. This wouldn’t do. Even though he didn’t feel like he had the emotional energy for himself…he desperately wanted to be here for you. After the past four weeks of falling down a rabbit hole imagining you as a soft, caring, dominant partner, he suddenly felt needed. He wanted to provide so bad it hurt. 

“What’s the matter, love?”

“I…” your voice cracks and you shake your head. He backs off a bit, letting you have some space. “It’s been a rough few weeks. I’ve…missed you and felt like…a fucking idiot the whole time.”

Vessel nods and takes a drink of his water. “Yeah. Getting laid didn’t fix us, did it?”

You laugh ruefully and cross your arms. “It’s made me worse. How about you?”

“You first.”

You roll your eyes and stretch your neck. Vessel nearly loses his mind at how you bite your lip as you look him up and down. This is what he wants. To be under your gaze. Please. Keep him there. His breath catches. You could tell him to leave right now and he would. But instead, you keep talking. 

“To be completely honest with you, I didn’t think there was anything between us other than like…being friends. So I don’t know what came over me when I just…literally threw myself at you. I shouldn’t have done that. That’s…stupid reckless behavior.” You wring your hands a little and look down. “How can I expect to be taken seriously if I just—“

Vessel puts his hand up. “Stop that.”

“But I’m serious, Vess-“

“I said…’stop that.’ I take you seriously. I’ve always taken you seriously.” Vessel considers you for a moment. While he’d love to take you to bed, he’s desperate to lift you up. To reassure you. “Love, if you think you shouldn’t be taken seriously, imagine how I feel. You could have written me off as a jerk for letting you—“ but Vessel stops himself before he waxes poetic about your blowjob skills and ruins the moment. “I didn’t even follow you after we were done. Call you. Message you directly. After everything…I shouldn’t even have the chance to be with you.”

You shake your head and look down. “I know you’re not after one thing…I know it. But…why can’t I believe it? It’s nothing personal, I swear I just-“

Something deep within propels Vessel to pull you in for a gentle kiss…and to his utter delight you melt right into his touch. You fit so ridiculously perfect in his arms and mesh so well against his lips. He lets out a soft moan right as you break the kiss. Vessel had already been taken with you, but now he was enchanted. “Give me a month. I’ll show you how serious I am about you. It’s not just the sex…I promise.”

Your breath is ragged…you’re overcome with emotion and desire. You nod up at him. “All the time you need…”

“Good girl…” Vessel cocks his head, amused that he just called you that. He meant it in an encouraging way but…if the shoe fits. “Would you like that? To be my good girl?”

Your eyes get a bit dark, but not out of anything malicious. Your chin raises. “Ves…I would be anything you asked me to be. I don’t think you understand what you’ve done to me…” You pause but Vessel can’t even begin to formulate a thought. Were you as borderline obsessive as him? “You shouldn’t be on my mind the way you are. I mean…what are you doing to me? You’ve shown me so much kindness and your own vulnerability…that shouldn’t turn me on. It’s endearing and admirable, sure, but why do I…I just want to take care of you. I’m sorry I just…I feel guilty for…for falling for you because see me and you let me suck you off…I mean…how old are we?”

He’s taken aback a little. Something in your mind is tricking you. “Sweetheart,” he cups your cheek, “if it makes you feel any better, I feel the same. When I saw how down you looked a bit ago…” he shakes his head and sighs, “took everything in me to not start confessing everything just to see you smile. I want you. I want…everything that makes you ‘you.’ And I get the feeling you want the same…right?”

For a long second, you don’t say anything. You stare up at him, glassy eyed. He doesn’t need verbal confirmation. He’s passed that. He’s no longer timid about you. His lips meet yours in an agonizingly slow, tender kiss. Vessel’s hips press you against your kitchen counter, letting you feel his excitement. It wasn’t pure arousal. It was the excitement of being open and honest with each other. The emotional push and pull of comforting you but also receiving your reassurance did things to him. Oh fuck. Oh no. This was love, wasn’t it? Your hands pull at his hips, bringing one of his legs between yours. You moan softly, and he pulls from the kiss.

“Do you think about me at all?” He whispers breathlessly? You moan as his lips ghost your ear. The feeling of your thighs tightening around him makes his cock twitch. He wishes your thighs were around his hips…or even his face. You bite your lip and whine a little as your hips buck involuntarily.

“I think about fucking you on my couch everyday.”

Obviously the next stop is the couch. Vessel sits down and pulls you to straddle him. His kisses become more ravenous. Finally…the girl of his dreams is on him. He’d do anything for you right now, but he wants you a little vulnerable. You, of course, had been pining, too. What’s the harm in being pathetic together? He pulls off your shirt and nearly looses his mind when your soft flesh comes into view. Your precious tummy. Your squishy tits. Fuck. It was all his. “Get your pants off.”

You hop off his lap and do as your told. Vessel just watches and unzips his pants, adjusting them and his boxers to let his cock out. He bites his lip and strokes himself teasingly as he watches you pull off your leggings and panties. Drooling at the sight of your nude legs…the hint of your pussy. He beckons you forward seductively, a little taste of what’s to come once you’re in reach. 

“How wet are you, love?” He asks, letting his fingers dip between your legs. You moan softly as his fingers trail up and down your slit, enjoying the wetness he’s caused. “I don’t even need to help you, do I? Excitable girl. Aren’t you?” All this gets from you is a nod. You’re so gone. He leans back on the couch and pulls you toward him. He’s still completely dressed in his henley and jeans, but you don’t seem to mind. He positions you on his cock and lets you set the pace. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been fucked, but he knows to be kind and let you adjust to his size. His eyes roll back and his head thumps against the couch. Something about how your body takes his cock makes his insides melt. You run your fingers through your hair and arch your back as you lower yourself completely on him. “Don’t move…don’t move, love.” He adjusts slightly to bring your chest to his mouth. His soft kisses and kitten licks pepper your breasts, causing your pussy to clench. It feels amazing. He’s being so gentle, but on the inside he wants to ravage you. Even after getting off everyday for a month thinking about you, you still excite Vessel into a frenzy. 

“Oh…oh Ves…” you gasp as he takes your nipple between his lips. You both moan as his cock twitches against your sensitive walls, but he keeps you still, cockwarming as he teases and makes out with your nipples. He shamelessly buries his face in your chest and moans, squeezing your ass to pull you close. Vessel can hardly believe it. You’re finally in his arms, his cock is stuffed inside you, and you want his love just as badly as he wants yours. He pulls his face away from your body to look up at you and whisper.

“You’re my girl now. You know that?” He puts his finger that had touched your pussy in his mouth and sucks, making sure you how see gone he is for you. “Gonna make you so happy…”

Vessel can hardly believe what’s coming out of his mouth, but pussy from someone who accepts you unconditionally will do that to you. He thought he was only built for fleeting infatuations and hooks up. But here he was…making promises he’d sooner die than break. After playfully torturing you with how his cock twitched inside you every time you kissed him or made a little sound, he starts to move your hips.  You look positively angelic on his lap completely naked taking his cock. His eyes roll back and he realizes that whatever half baked fantasy he had about fucking you didn’t prepare him for how good you felt. How warm and safe he’d feel under the weight of your body. It’s almost too much. Not that he’d cum yet. No. He just wants to say stupid things like “I love you;” and “we should move in together;” and “please call me a good boy.” That little submissive voice was still in him. He knew you were responding well to him taking control but he wanted that gentle control from you again. 

“Am…am I good for you?” He rasps out as you steadily grind against him.

“Mhm…so good…you…you like being good?”

Vessel’s eyes roll back and he nods pathetically. “Just for you.” 

You bury your face in the nape of his neck and suck little pink love marks up and down it. He moans with each one, clenching your body impossibly close. “I can’t move when you hold me like that…” you say backing up a little. You take his wrists gently and pin them against the back of the couch. He licks his lips and smiles dreamily. “Oh you’re pathetic, aren’t you?” Your fingers intertwine and he lets out a contented sigh.

“So pathetic…”

“You like being good but you like getting in trouble, too, huh?”

Vessel’s brain is mush. He knows you’re lightly degrading him and he fucking loves it but he has no concept of what’s happening other than “yippee perfect girl is being perfect.” He just nods and lets you fuck him for all he’s worth, cumming when you wrap your dainty hand around his neck. 

Later at what can only be described as a debrief at the pub, you share a large basket of fries. Vessel takes a deep breath as he attempts to act normal after having his mind blown and emotions pulled in all kinds of different directions. “This is good, yeah?”

“The fries?”

“For Christ’s sake…”

“Oh sorry, you mean…us…yeah. This is good. Really good. Are you scared?”

Vessel looks at the table and then at you. Honesty is his only option. “Terrified.”

“Same.”

He ponders for a moment and puts his hand palm up on the table. “Do it scared?”

You plop your hand down on his, “and together.”

“Now about this gig next week. I need to start your lectures on progressive metal-“

“Oh god.”

[xxcallmemaryxx]

You finally met your sweet creature. He’s a big shy ball of nerves. But he’s a sweetheart. What you don’t know is you just told a vampire to stop by any time he wants, and he fully intends on taking you up on that.

Vampire Vessel x GN reader.

For the full experience (or a little refresher)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

(I make some little callbacks to earlier vamp vessel fics, just incase you’re a bit confused reading this one for the first time.)

Under the cut ~ <3

It’s been a week. Vessel couldn’t bring himself to come back and see you. The embarrassment of what he did eating at his bones every second since it happened. He keeps replaying it over and over again in his head. Moping about the manor wishing he could bury himself.

ii was sick of his shit, to put it bluntly.

At this point, he’s resorted to means he never thought he’d turn to. Locking Vessel out of the manor being something even he finds himself at a bit of a loss over.

“This is ridiculous, ii.”

Vessel argues through the door. Standing there awkwardly like he’s on time out. In a way, he kind of is, even if it’s a bit backwards.

“You may come back in only when you’ve snapped out of it, or until the sun has begun to rise. Until then, do not return.”

And with that ii vanishes. Leaving Vessel on his own doorstep. He blinks at the manors front door. Feeling foolish, he kicks a rock and flips ii off. A bit childish, he will admit. But ultimately he can’t find it in himself to care.

He turns to gaze out at the openness of the woods and mountains he calls his home, his safety. Yet all that space and there’s only one place he can think to go. It’s muscle memory at this point.

ii watches him, high above through his bedroom window. Glad he chose not to sit on the doorstep and sulk all night. He can only hope Vessel returns feeling better. Vampires. Such moody creatures.

…

He almost didn’t expect to find you still here. Despite ii swearing you seemed completely unfazed, Vessel didn’t believe it. He knows ii doesn’t care for you, not like he does. He was positive iis words were just a ploy to trick him out of bed. He supposes he should cut ii a bit of slack, he wasn’t lying after all.

He settles into his branch, a branch that’s beginning to feel like his home away from home. He sets his sights on you, his beloved human. It feels like centuries have passed since he saw you last. He can’t believe he went so long without returning to you. You’re washing dishes and cleaning up from the day. Such mundane tasks, he wishes he could bring you to the manor. You’d never have to lift a finger again. He knows iii and iv would wait on you just as he would. ii, well he’d take some time to warm up to you… but you’d be the safest most spoiled human on the planet inside that manor.

He thinks long and hard about iis words. Not to return until he’s snapped out of it. ii didn’t specify how exactly to achieve that. Still feeling a bit peeved off with ii, Vessel is easily swayed into being slightly spiteful.

He doesn’t think twice as he jumps from his branch, landing properly this time, and marching up to your door with such gusto. It’s only then as he stands there looking at your front door does he falter. Movement beside him catches his eye and he whips around to face whatever danger is there to end him. When he’s not met with a hunter, the authorities, or any kind of danger, but instead met with a dreamcatcher swaying slightly in the breeze, his shoulders drop.

It’s his dreamcatcher.

The one he left on your door so long ago.

He forgot he made it. He can’t believe you kept it. His dead heart soars. He swears he felt it beat. One faint thump deep in his chest. A smile breaks out on his lips and the tips of his fangs poke into his bottom lip.

This is what is called a moment of weakness. A moment of complete foolishness. Because Vessel is not paying attention to his surroundings. He’s so caught up in his own world, picturing you finding the gift and then choosing to hang it up, that he fails to hear you approaching your own front door. The one he’s standing on the other side of.

He’s violently ripped from his own head when you swing your door open to put the rubbish out, only to collide with his solid body instead.

The scream he rips from you echos through the trees and you stumble back into your house like a fool. Vessel is a complete statue where he stands. Staring down at you realising what he’s done. He can’t even ask you if you’re okay. The only things on his mind is that he actually finally touched you, and that ii is going to fucking kill him.

You right yourself, dropping the rubbish bag next to you as you gear up to give this person a piece of your mind. But he sees the shift in your demeanor. You recognise him immediately. Because of course you do.

“It’s you.”

He stands there like an idiot. His hands are trembling, he can’t feel his legs, he can’t remember how to speak. He hasn’t blinked once since you opened the door and he’s sure if he could he’d empty his stomach on your feet right now. He wishes he could die. But then he remembers he is dead and all that does is remind him of everything bad about his life ever.

“Uh… your bag…”

Is all he can force out. He mentally face palms. His voice shakes and he points down to it like a donkey. You don’t even look down at it. Your eyes are glued to him and that just makes him feel even stupider. He’s never returning to the manor. He’s never returning to see you. He thought falling out of a tree was bad. He wishes he could go back to that night. That moment. What on earth was he thinking standing on your doorstep. He’s completely humiliated. What the fuck is wrong with him.

“I- I’m sorry-“

He forces his brain to shut the fuck up for one minute so he can right this mess.

“I owe you an apology…”

He forces out, he’s never spoken like this before. He barely recognises his own voice. So quiet and unsure. He’s an embarrassment to his kind.

“I believe I gave you quite the fright a few nights ago. Please forgive me.”

And his apology is honest. It’s genuine. It’s real. He really needs you to know he’s sorry. But he knows he looks like an utter fool right now. Twisting his hands nervously and speaking like he has a mouth full of cotton. He wouldn’t be surprised if you laughed him off your doorstep and sent the town after him just for his stupidity alone.

“You fell from the tree… are you alright? That must have hurt.”

Your eyes make their way down the length of him. He’d be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t like it. He likes it a lot despite how much it terrifies him. He watches you take him in and give him a solid once over. Concern and worry in your beautiful eyes. Worry for him. He can’t breathe.

“I am just fine. I was shaken, if anything. I would like to explain… if I may.”

He offers you nervously. His voice thick as he speaks. He doesn’t think it’s quite sunk in yet that he’s actually speaking with you. That this isn’t a fantasy. That this is real. You’re looking at him and listening to him and he’s conversing with you.

“Oh, yes please. I’ve been trying to figure out what the hell happened all week. I thought I dreamed it.”

You say to him with a sigh, a slight smile on your face as your eyes meet his again. He is dizzy. His arms feel like lead and he is positive his eyes are about to bug out of his head.

“So uh, you see this home has been vacant for quite some time. A long while before you moved here, I put a trail cam up in that tree. I rather enjoy watching the wildlife. I was simply retrieving it that night, I seemed to have misjudged my footing. I sincerely apologise.”

These words come easier to him. He’d spent hours coming up with a reasonable excuse, incase he ever had to explain what happened. He’d rehearsed it over and over again. Despite this, he seriously doubted he’d ever actually tell the lie. Yet here he is. Tweaking out of his mind over it. The irony of the lie is not lost on him either, given that those monstrous technologies are ones he avoids like the plague. He bites his tongue as he anticipates his demise.

“Ohhh… yeah I’ve seen them around the woods. I didn’t realise they were yours. Look, it’s no problem. But next time, just let me know. I wouldn’t have minded a knock on my door.”

You flash a beautiful smile at him, shrugging like it’s nothing. Your immediate acceptance of his lie shocks him. He almost wants to tell you off for it. For believing strange men when they tell you things. For not asking questions. For not picking his words apart. He blinks at you. And he has to get his thoughts back on track before he can answer you.

“Yes… of course. You have my word.”

He says sincerely. Placing a palm to his chest like this promise is the most important he’s ever made.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t catch your name. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Vessel watches in slow motion as you stick your hand out to shake his. His world stops. He realises briefly that you have quite the tendency to do that to him. He looks down at your hand like it could set him on fire. He doesn’t want to leave you hanging. So reluctantly, he reaches forward and grabs your hand gently in his. He brings it up to his lips and places the briefest of kisses on your knuckles. He catches the way your smile falters. He knows, deep in his soul, that it’s because of how cold his skin is. His eyes stay locked on yours as he does so, and even then as he slowly drops your hand. He swallows thickly, his nerves hitting him hard as he forces a wobbly smile at you. Careful not to let his fangs poke through his lips.

“I do not live nearby, no. I live…”

He hesitates. Is he really about to tell you this?

“… I live deeper in the woods. Private property, you see.”

Another lie.

He hates it. He wants to kick himself stupid for lying to you. He feels like he’s betraying you. He swore to himself he’d never lie to you.

“You may call me Vessel. It is of my utmost pleasure to meet you.”

He finishes off by saying softly, bowing his head as he does so.

“Vessel… you enjoy the seclusion too?”

You ask him casually after testing his name on your lips. He almost curses you. Foolish human. Using his name so sweetly. Speaking it so eloquently. Decisions like that get you eaten. He swallows thickly. He has to hold his breath so to not breathe you in too deeply.

“We do, yes. The towns aren’t exactly appealing.”

He answers softly, feeling good about his answer through his awful distraction before-

“We? You live with others?”

There it is. The slip up. He pales. Somehow it’s possible. He blinks down at you like you just insulted him.

“Uh. Yes. I do. Friends turned family. Much like myself.”

He forces out. Not even sure how to describe what the guys are to him. All he knows is he loves them with his whole heart. And now a human knows of their existence. How is he ever going to get out of this one. He’s feeling that bubbling of self hatred brewing deep in his bones again.

“Well, Vessel. It was lovely to meet you. But I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got a trek back home. Don’t be stranger.”

You say to him with a heart stopping smile. You bend over to pick up the long forgotten rubbish bag, and step outside with him to toss it in the bigger bin. He nods a little awkwardly as he watches you make your way back to your door, he steps off your door step slowly. Unsure if he’s grateful or devastated the interaction is over.

“I’ll-… I’ll keep my eye out around here from now on, just incase…”

He trails off, unsure if he said the right thing or if that came out wrong. But when you give him yet another smile, he believes every choice he’s ever made his whole existence that led him to this point, was the right one.

“That would be greatly appreciated, Vessel. Thank you. Don’t be shy, stop in whenever you like. Get home safe.”

And with that you close your door. Leaving him there staring at it with the biggest grin he’s ever sported. Fangs on full display. Eyes wide and full of wonder.

He realises too late that he’s crying. Why? He has no idea. But he’s so happy. He did it. He spoke to you. You spoke to him. You looked at him, you smiled at him, you touched him. He touched you. He KISSED you. He almost collapses. He has to leave. He has to leave before he makes a fool of himself again but he can’t will himself away from where he stands.

You told him to come back any time.

He has got to go and tell ii.

.

.

.

I was really anticipating this one, I’m happy with it. I hope you are too. Thank you so much for reading!! So much love for you.

<3 <3

[scribbledghost]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: inhuman!polyvessels x reader

Rating: T

Word count: 1,290

Summary: You spend a quiet winter day curled up in bed with the four vessels.

Notes: We're getting a ton of snow where I am right now and I just really wanted something soft and cozy so I wrote it. Tons of fluff (gets slightly suggestive in the middle but doesn't go anywhere), many kisses, and probably lethal amounts of cheese. I regret nothing.

The world outside the manor is quiet, a thick blanket of snow covering everything in sight. The sun has long since risen, but life has yet to return to the landscape.

Meanwhile, inside the sprawling place you call home, warmth and a gentle silence permeate the atmosphere.

There are many fireplaces scattered around the structure, and the fact they always seem to be well-kept despite little effort on anyone's part makes you think it may be the house itself keeping the blazes stoked and roaring. Of course, it may also be through some as-yet-undiscussed power of one of your housemates, but you have yet to ask properly.

The four demi-humans you live with have different needs than you do, but they have taken great care to ensure yours are always met. You aren't even sure if they can feel heat or cold, and yet your home is always the perfect temperature for you. Today is no different.

Of course, having all five of you curled up together in one massive bed certainly helps keep you warm.

It's not at all unusual for multiple people to end up in one bed. All of you have a habit of stumbling out of your rooms and towards another when the night becomes too dark and quiet. In fact, it's more common for at least two or three people to be in one bed than it is for all of you to sleep separately.

The perks of having four partners all connected by varying degrees of telepathic communication, you suppose.

"Are you comfortable, my heart?"

Vessel's dulcet tone cuts through the quiet, barely intelligible over III's snoring and the crackling of the fireplace across the room.

You turn your head slightly to nudge your nose against his, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Yes I am. Are you?"

Vessel only hums softly in response, his six eyes softening as he meets your gaze.

The rest of the vessels are still asleep around you. II is at your side opposite of Vessel, one arm slung over your middle while his face is buried in your neck, his even breaths fanning across your skin. IV is curled into Vessel's back, quiet grumbles emanating from him as he shifts. III, meanwhile, is sprawled across all of you, his head on your chest and his limbs stretched.

"All of my boys here in the same place, warm and safe," you muse. "I always feel better when we're all together."

Vessel hums softly again, one of his hands coming to rest atop III's to absentmindedly play with his hair.

"I understand," he says. "There is a certain sense of security knowing your loved ones are all present."

Suddenly, a particularly loud snort from III breaks the tranquility, and he jolts awake.

"You okay?" you ask. III shifts, turning his head to give you a lopsided, tired grin.

"Hiya, love," he says, voice thick with sleep. Your head tilts up, III's nose nudging it upward so he can nibble at the skin just below your chin. His extended canine teeth sting just slightly, but none of his movements are firm enough to draw blood.

You know this move. And you know where it leads.

"Mm, easy, love. Too tired for that," you say gently.

However, being firm is difficult when Vessel is also alternating between kissing your temple and nipping at your earlobe.

"Don't have to do anything, beloved," Vessel all but croons. "Just lie back and let the four of us do the work."

"I think II and IV might have a problem with that, seeing as they're still asleep," you murmur.

"They'll live," III says, his tongue now laving against your throat.

"I'm serious, quit it!" you whisper loudly with a laugh. "I'm comfortable!"

The pair cease their assault, a soft chuckle emanating from them both. Quick kisses are places on your cheek and lips, with III nuzzling his head against your chest once again. You're sure it's only a matter of time before he's asleep once more.

"You three are too loud."

This time, it's II's low voice rumbling against you. You know the faux-grumpiness is purely in jest, but you indulge him anyway.

"I'm sorry, my dear," you say, tilting your head to rest your cheek against him.

"Someone kiss me and I may consider forgiveness," he teases.

Your lips land on his first, but they're quickly followed by III's.

"Surely we've earned mercy now, hm?" you tease. "Two kisses for II?"

"Don't push it."

You and III both laugh softly as II squeezes you tighter, readjusting himself as he buries his face in your neck.

You turn to see Vessel looking at the three of you, pure softness and affection in his eyes. The sight of IV's arm slung across Vessel's waist draws your attention.

"I'm surprised he hasn't woken up yet," you muse.

Vessel gives you a look that you can't read before he reaches for IV's hand, gently bringing the latter man's knuckles to his lips.

However, it appears IV was not as asleep as you had thought. Before Vessel can react, IV uses the hand at Vessel's lips to grab him by the jaw and turn his head. One more quick shift, and IV has him in an almost bruising kiss.

It leads nowhere, and is more an admonishment for waking IV than anything else, but you still watch as IV leaves Vessel with a slightly dazed look when he pulls away.

Despite being rough with Vessel, IV is nothing but gentle with you, reaching for your hand to bring it to his lips.

"Sleep well, dove?" he asks, his voice deep with disuse.

"Sure did, thanks for askin'," III replies, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"Wasn't talkin' to you," IV deadpans, reaching over to tug at one of III's ears.

"Should've - ow! - should've been more specific then," III teases.

After a bit more lighthearted bickering between the vessels, the atmosphere returns to a soft silence. However, all attention shifts to you when you shiver slightly.

"Are you cold, my heart?" Vessel asks.

"Just a little," you admit. You're not quite sure how the chill has managed to find you beneath the furs that adorn the massive bed and the warmth of the vessels around you (or, in III's case, sprawled atop you), but it has.

III makes a move to get up and stoke the fire, but Vessel stops him with a gentle hand.

It's not terribly often that you witness Vessel communing with the manor itself - the action tends to drain him - but it's always a marvel when you do.

A soft blue glow encompasses his eyes as his arm reaches towards the fireplace. A low hum sounds in your mind, like distantly muffled words. You wonder if the others hear something more distinct.

You can tell Vessel is straining, a slight tremble visible in his hand. Thankfully, the connection isn't terribly drawn-out, and with a whooshing sound, the fireplace roars brighter.

Vessel's eyes return to normal, and his arm and body sag back onto the mattress.

"Didn't have to do that," III mutters. "I would've gotten up."

"I know," Vessel reassures him, giving him a soft smile.

You don't need a telepathic mental connection to tell that Vessel is ready for rest once again. Reaching for him, you manage to rearrange him so his head is tucked against your shoulder.

"Rest," you command softly. He doesn't argue, and neither do the others. II curls back into your side, III is already softly snoring against your chest, and IV's breaths even out as he holds your hand.

You drift back to dreams nestled amongst the vessels, the harsh world outside the manor unable to disturb the peace found within.

[daddyhausen]

hello, I love your writing so much!! I wanted to ask you, would you be down to write nosferatu!sleep token? You can do iii or vessel x reader (very possessive, protective, almost stalker-ish, monster style), whichever you want. I just love the new nosferatu movie so much and was curious if would write something like that. Thank you in advance, love you🤍

honestly could not choose between them so you’re getting both xx

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ 「 OUR AFFLICTION 」 ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 MUSICIAN/BAND MASTERLIST 」 | 「 VESSEL MASTERLIST 」 | 「 III MASTERLIST 」

「 COMMISSION INFO 」 | 「 LIKE MY WORK? BUY ME A COFFEE — KOFI — DXDDYHXUSEN 」

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 SUMMARY 」 — a secluded getaway was just what you and your new husband needed. the catch is, the two of you were not completely alone

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+ 「 MINORS DNI 」, DD: DNE,

「 TAGS 」 — [ nsfw ] [ smut ] [ threesome ] [ cnc ] [ noncon to dubcon ] [ vampires ] [ nosferatu inspired ] [ biting ] [ monsterfucking ] [ blood drinking ] [ blood play ] [ pussy eating ] [ double penetration ] [ double vaginal penetration ] [ blowjob ] [ face fucking ] [ throat fucking ] [ throatpie ] [ hair pulling ] [ degradation ] [ cuckolding ] [ phantom sex ] [ multiple orgasms ] [ sleep paralysis ] [ male + female orgasms ] [ squirting ] [ internal cumshots ] [ vaginal creampie ]

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 7.5k

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x vamp!vessel + vamp!iii

「 GENRE 」 — smut

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 TAGLIST 」 — @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @mjfass @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @janetreader @bonehead-playz @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @harmshake @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @selena-tyler-564 @nev-danielgarciawife @teenagedramaqueenlisa @miss-whiddlesmort @dykekota @summertimefun1982 @thebettergothgirl @inv3ga-sust3nna

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST 」

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

the carriage ride is more mundane than you expected, three hours traversing on a horse-drawn carriage over rocky slopes and muddy roads is enough to bore any woman out of her mind especially when your husband rambles on about business, real estate mostly. not that you pay much attention to detail so on and so forth. this is not what you were anticipating for your honeymoon. you were expecting a romantic getaway, someplace where your newfound husband would for once not go on about his business. now you are sitting in a carriage, on your way to spend your honeymoon in some drab castle your husband has listed to sell. you glance outside the carriage window, rolling hills of splendorous greenery for miles to come, the sunset melting into it, a mix of warm oranges and yellows of a traditional sunset, but the clouds hang low, grey, and heavy, brewing with an incoming storm. your view is interrupted by the swish of the driver’s whip, a flash of leather obscuring your vision of the wildflowers. 

“awful weather, this time of year isn’t it?” you mention, still keeping your gaze out of the window, the clouds ominous as they loom over the mountains. 

your husband’s ears perk up at the comment, almost confused by your sudden will of voice, since you’d been as silent as a field mouse the entire carriage ride.

“that is because it’s the beginning of springtime here, my darling. the weather isn’t as warm as it is back home” 

“don’t patronize me, love.” you retort, a hint of amusement on your tongue, shuffling closer to the door of the carriage to gain a better view of the wildflowers, a mixture of rich blues and purples from native lilacs, their powdery scent, reflective of almonds as they seemed to flutter through the breeze, you inhale deeply, reminiscent of your wedding day, your husband had a large bouquet imported from these romanian fields, the scent – although not as crisp as the natives, still conjure up the sweetest of memories, kept locked away in the museum of your mind. 

your husband takes your hand, smoothing over the back of your palm with his thumb in ginger circles, a soft smile falling onto his lips. he notices your apprehension, the tired, far-away look your eyes hold,  riddled with exhaustion from the gruelling trip. 

“not too long now, my love” he reassures.

you give an acknowledging nod, your eyes finally meet the two of your clasped hands. in truth, you had no idea what your husband had mentioned or what place he had acquired for the month. he already had your bags packed for this trip before you had the chance to consummate the marriage. 

“i just wish you would consult me before making such decisions.” 

he releases your hand, not before placing a chaste kiss on the back of your palm

“what consulting would there need to be?  you're my wife now, i don’t want you to worry about such things.” 

“this is not exactly how i planned on spending my honeymoon, is all” 

“darling, have a little bit of optimism for once. trust me, you’ll love the place” 

you chew the inside of your cheek, holding your tongue from spitting any incredulous words in his direction, even if it were to take the remainder of the carriage ride. your husband’s voice fades into the background amongst the scuff of carriage wheels against rock and the whinnies of horses. don’t kid yourself you love your husband, dearly. you wish sometimes he would consider things with you in mind, the wedding venue for example, a lush vineyard in the south of italy, sicily to be exact and while the scenery itself was gorgeous no doubt, you had implored for emilia-romania, finding the cooler climate better suited to your taste, you were never one for dry climates. even then a destination wedding was not the first recommendation on your list, what with elderly grandparents, an ailing father, and an aunt, getting them to the wedding proved more of a chore than anything else. 

you let out a sigh, a short bitter one though your teeth. fingers idly twisting loose strands of lace from your dress sleeve, providing some form of distraction to your husbands incessant ramblings, you did admire his…his conviction, yes…how passionate he was about his business, it all he ever talks about it seems, even before the two of you were wed. 

he’d buy you a house fit for a queen, yet a queen you did not need to be. luxuries did not mean a thing to you, you’d rather have a simple, modest home, with enough room to house yourself, your husband and a couple of children, maybe a pet – a cat perhaps, not a dog…far too excitable. and you’d rather not hear your thoughts echo off empty walls in a cacophonous mockery. 

“stunning isn’t it?” your husband’s voice perked you out of your thoughts. 

“hmm?” you blink, humming absentmindedly.

your husband points outside the window, your eyes follow up his arm to where his finger is pointing. beyond the horizon, just peeking out from behind the hillscape, lays a gargantuan castle, standing tall and proud within a mountain slope, a stone bridge connecting the two paths. the sky darkens upon arrival, clouds almost black, and a ravenous grumble of thunder seems to wash over the landscape, despite neither you nor your husband hearing anything. 

it is surely a beautiful sight, the basalt and calcite pillars seem rooted into the earth, holding up the monstrosity of dark brick and stone. 

“y-yes..it is…” you clear your throat, the castle seems far more imposing now the two of you are sitting in front of it. 

you could see the vines of ivy scattered along the pillars, climbing desperately to reach even the faintest bit of sunlight. oddly…you could relate. 

your husband thanks the driver, tipping him a handsome sum for his troubles, retrieving your baggage from the back of the carriage, you watch him converse with the doorman so effortlessly, confidence comes naturally to him which you can applaud. you’d surely be burning up in anxiety even at the thought. 

taking slow steps outside of the carriage, you peer upward to glance at the towering door before you, sturdy and made of spruce, metal carvings of gargoyles and serpents, encircling a steel door knob. the door itself is held open by the doorman, a warm yet distant smile greeting you, a smile that seems to look past you, not quite fully meeting his eyes. 

you offer him a nod in passing, entering the castle. darkness surrounds you, quite literally, the room encased in blackstone and the basalt leaking in from the external walls. ceiling high and revered, candelabra chandeliers hung by rusting chains with unlit and freshly snuffled candles, that creak every time they swing, so ominously as you walk underneath them as if they planned to drop on you any minute. the entrance remains the same for what seems like miles, a repetition of chandelier and pillar, chandelier and pillar with a suit of armour or decorative painting in between said pillars. 

there is a stench of dust in the air, one that makes your nose itch and your eyes water. you scrunch your nose to be rid of the sensation. 

“well it…” you pause following your husband up the staircase, a hand running over the spiral knob of a dark oak banister, a handprint left in the wake of where the dust used to be. you clear your throat. 

“it's surely been lived in,” you mention, lamenting almost, noticing the spiderwebs glistening under sunlight, almost pearlescent in their colour through the windows. 

“it is an old castle, you can not expect it to be pristine all of the time” he remarks, almost giddy as he examines the intricate spirals and swirls carved into the banister with such expert craftsmanship, it must have taken the carpenter months to complete. 

“but not to worry, darling. i made sure the bedroom is up to your standards” 

-

the bedroom, in truth, is glorious despite how much you want to disagree, the ceilings remain high like the rest of the house, the candelabra chandelier is now lit with warm, glowing wax candles, the bed, a giant thing it is,  a bed frame made from mahogany, with the same spiral signature of the unknown carpenter that had done the banisters,  splayed with a deep maroon bedspread and black velvet throw cushions with lace trimmings to match. you take a seat at the foot of your bed with a sigh, spreading down the sheets with your palm, more so to check if it too is coated in dust.

“are you tired, darling? perhaps you should rest before dinner” 

“i am quite refreshed from the carriage ride, i might have a stroll around the garden if that's all right” 

any excuse to stretch your legs i suppose, and to escape from the dust-ridden closet that was this castle, even for a few moments. 

-

you trudge down the stairs, fists full of your skirts to not dirty them on the dusty wood. you kept a vigilant eye, on the watch for any servants that lurked about, offering you directions to the nearest exit. at the foot of the staircase, you spotted one, an elderly woman, skin pallor and hair white as chalk, matted into some sort of bird's nest, unkempt. her attire is tattered, the skirts of her dress filled with holes, chewed through by moths covered in grime and dirt, yet no stench possessed her, if anything, she smelt…clean. 

“excuse me?” you ask, flagging her down. “could you perhaps direct me to the garden?” 

the servant woman turns to you, pallor skin wrinkled and aged, eyes glassy, cataracts cloud her vision all milky and white, despite this she stares directly at you. she opens her mouth to reveal a toothy grin, a rotten missing-teeth grin to be exact. the sight makes your stomach churn. she hums an unfamiliar tune as she feather dusts a candelabra, revealing the brassy exterior beneath the cloud of dust particles, the candle themselves freshly snuffed, and warm wax melts down the candlestick like cascading rivers, dripping onto her hand, she does not flinch. 

“past the dining area to the hall” she points towards the south with a bony, decrepit finger, long witch-like nails all chipped and broken. 

“thank you.” you respond quickly with a small bow of your head. not wanting to stay engaged in conversation any longer than you needed to. you pass the elderly woman, her eyes seeming to linger on you for longer than you were comfortable, seering through your skull as if she was sizing you up. 

“a pretty thing you are. tell me, have you had children yet? your hips are wide, good for birthing” she taps your hips with the wooden stick of the feather duster.

you are taken aback by the intrusive question, your throat running dry as you are stumped for words. 

“uhh…well no. i’ve only just married you see” despite the awkwardness you try to remain as polite as possible, despite the embarrassment burning on your cheeks and the uneasy sway in your step from foot to foot trying to distract yourself. the old woman simply hums with a nod of her head. 

“the young masters will be satisfied with you” she murmurs. 

you freeze. 

“what?” 

she turns away ignoring you, walking away with maid’s basket in hand, humming that same unfamiliar tune. you are overcome with a strange sense, possible paranoia perhaps? your husband made no mention of any residents living within the castle besides the servants who barely maintained it and why on god’s green earth would your husband even attempt to sell an occupied residential property? no… like you said before, just paranoia, and a strange old, possibly demented woman who still believes the old residents still roam amongst the halls. still, even as the woman walks away with her back towards you, you can feel those milky white irises piercing through you. 

you shake your head to rid yourself of the thought and continue onward to the garden. 

through the dining hall she said, an extravagant room it is, mahogany table that of the bed frame stretching as far as the room is wide, matching chairs with high back, velvet red and embroidered with decaying florals, the table has been left set, cutlery rusted, ceramic plates chipped and broken he cracks repaired with liquid gold despite their fragility. goblets encrusted with rubies and sapphires and emeralds galore, seemed rather strenuous to drink from. they still held stains of red wine around the rims. 

you did not think the house would feel so occupied yet empty. 

a painting caught your attention, plastered above the mantle of the fireplace, it glimmered with an alluring presence, even under drab candlelight. it draws you in, and on bated breath, you admire the two figures within it. both of them are tall,  well above six feet.  masculine, it was very evident. the taller of the two is lankier and thinner, his body shrouded in a grey suit, seemingly stitched to his body, a bushel of deep purple lilacs held in an inky black hand. just like the lilacs present in the field on the carriage ride over. he stands almost as if observing you, proud and cocky.

the second figure is draped in furs of presumably a wolf, his chest bare, specks of it covered with necklaces of silver and white gold. surely that would be a hindrance in the colder months, but then again you assume this was not their usual attire. his body is more defined than the first, and you could help the blush that spread to your cheeks. good god get a hold of yourself, you're a married woman for christ’s sake. you should not be fawning over a painting of two dead men. you shudder at the thought. 

you continue to observe the painting, only to notice that their faces had been painted over with a maroon paint, still fresh as it trickled down the canvas, over their oil painted necks and chest. the paint was very fresh indeed, a metallic stench still lingered in the air as you covered your nose to hopefully mask the smell of it. 

you recall the elderly women mentioning something about young masters, perhaps this painting was of them? you could only assume since it was definitely the most regal looking of all the paintings you’d encountered. how odd, why would their faces be painted out if that was the case? maybe they had done something in their lifetime that warranted the expulsion of their identity? god only knows. 

-

the wind flutters against your skin as you step into the garden, it seems like the only well-kept thing on the entire property, wildflowers grow between your toes, and white hydrangeas and peonies line the garden beds for miles, mixed in with once again, those purple lilacs. hedges carved into shapes of angels and devils, separated on either side, in a constant yet stagnant battle, frozen in time. you pursue forward, feeling the lushness of the shrubbery against your fingertips, how green and alive it felt despite the decay and dreariness of the castle. 

in the centre stands a statue made of marble, a fountain beneath it spraying out spurts of crystal clear water, and stone benches surrounding its diameter. the statue is of a woman, cloaks obscuring her features, much like the two figures from the painting, her identity erased. she seems more objectified. her stance is powerful, a scythe in her right hand, a reaper she may have been. from her back sprouted wings, defiant of the air around her as they stretched proud and wide. she is utterly beautiful. you sit on the stone bench across from her, simply admiring. had she been a real woman whose image was forever immortalised in the stone? maybe she was a lover of one of the masters? the marble around her feet began to decay as if she had made attempts to walk free from the stand she had been put on and for a brief moment, you connect with that. that yearning for escape despite in your right mind knowing there was nothing for you to escape from. you have a wonderful husband who adores you, a modest amount of wealth, not to mention your health. 

there is no need for escape, no need for respite. your life is wondrous, perfect even. still, a sense of dread overcomes you, a coldness that freezes your bones and chills your skin. like ice over a pristine lake. the sensation is eerily similar to the way the woman had made you feel, those eyes boring into your soul, trying to pry the thoughts from your inner psyche. this is…far more intense, those eyes instead burrowing into your mind making a home inside your skull. your skin ripples with goosebumps as your gaze drifts away from the statue, it is not her gaze penetrating you, no. for her eyes are shielded. this gaze was far more sinister, more lustful. your eyebrows knot together trying to decipher whatever this feeling is. 

you look around, surely you were alone, no other occupants seem to inhabit the garden, aside from the bumblebees that pollinate the surrounding flowers. gazing past the statue and the shrubbery you still see no one, how strange…maybe a solitary gardener had just finished pruning the hedges? yet that sensation still fills so…so…ominous…

rising to your feet you smooth down the skirts of your dress, taking a deep inhale to calm yourself. it’s nothing…surely nothing at all. your eyes linger on the hedge line for a moment, a shadowy figure silhouetted in the distance, it blurred by the leaves, standing ever so still amongst the greenery, blinking your eyes a couple of times and then fixating on it again, it was gone,  just like that. you shook your head to once again rid yourself of the thought, your mind just filtered with exhaustion, paying it no mind as you enter back into the castle, feeling the brew of a storm rising, as the clouds lowered and the wind whistled like a sinister threat. 

-

dinner could not have come soon enough, you were simply famished yet, your stomach had rescinded the offer to eat. a wild spread of pheasant and seasonal vegetables towered on your plate, the table scattered with white grapes, and red cherries so sweet the taste dances on your tongue, or so you’ve been told. you haven't had the stomach to try one just yet. crystal goblets carved with the most intricate of patterns, half full of merlot, not to your standards by any means but the taste allowed you some resolve from the swirl of emptiness in your stomach. 

your husband sits across the table from you, so far across the dining hall that you might as well have been eating dinner alone. you watch him shovel food into his mouth, like a man starved, simply unbothered, fixated on it like a wolf on a deer. he paid you no mind in the hours leading up to dinner, he had been busy of course, writing correspondents to back and forth between realtors and clients, a strenuous task. but dear god it’s your honeymoon for christ’s sake, you wished he would pay you a smidge of affection aside from a chaste kiss or a parting waist grab. the silence seems to fill the room, servants wait on hand for the meal to be over and in truth, you did too. you never did cope well with the silence, it allows your mind to fill with things you’d rather forget, like those eyes of the elderly servant, or the invisible ones that preyed on you in the garden earlier, still feeling their coldness burn into your flesh. you shudder in your seat clearing your throat, pushing around the potatoes on your plate with your fork still not eating them. 

“darling whatever is the matter, you’ve barely touched your plate” he speaks still with a mouthful of food, a half-eaten bread roll in one hand and a goblet of wine in the other.

“are you feeling unwell?”

you place your fork down, staring down at your full plate. your stomach grumbles with desperation, ravenous with hunger, yet the thought of bringing food to your lips, makes it churn in discomfort. especially with how paranoid you seem to feel right now. every so often your eyes dart up, seeing if you could catch a glimpse of that servant, or if the painting of the two young masters would have miraculously moved. 

“i am alright. i just don’t have an appetite this evening” it is the half truth. in reality you did have an appetite for something and it certainly was not food. your mind wanders back to the sensation from the garden, even under the invisible gaze you shied away, cheeks blushed with an incredible heat, you felt…insatiable. 

“oh, i'm sorry to hear that my love. whatever is the cause?”

you debate on telling him about the garden, the elderly woman’s words, the painting of the young masters and the way it almost made you melt into a puddle upon inspection. you bit the inside of your cheek, hard enough to break your concentration from such thoughts. you inhale shakily through your nose, an almost silent confirmation to continue. 

“does this castle not seem strange to you?” you ask, picking up your fork again to prod now at the carrots in an attempt to distract yourself. 

“whatever do you mean?” your husband asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“i met an elderly servant today, she mentioned something about her young masters–the ones in that painting behind you i assume..” 

your husband nods his head as if he were listening, confusion is still evident on his features. 

“the way she said it made it sound that they were still alive. now i must have misheard it surely” you continue, prodding at the carrot until the fork spears it. 

“but when i was in the garden earlier, i felt…i felt like i was being watched. this intense sensation washed over me, i could not see anyone yet i felt their presence…” 

your husband nods again, putting down his napkin on his plate after cleaning his mouth. 

“darling like i said before it is an old castle, it was most likely a gardener.” he stands up, straightening his waistcoat. he strides over you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as a form of reassurance. 

“you look exhausted, why don't you head up to bed, i’ll be with you shortly” he offers yet another chaste kiss to your cheek. one that seems to dim the spark of your love for him. it was not enough, and your words weren’t exactly heard. maybe he is right, it is just the exhaustion from two days of long travel. the rest is what you need. 

“alright…” 

he smiles down at you softly. before retreating to the study down the hall, the servants begin hastily clearing the table in silence all before you had even risen from your seat. you stare up at the painting one last time, how their eyes seemed to bore into your soul while being obscured. good god you really needed sleep. 

-

“thoughts still troubling you darling?” 

your husband shuffles into bed beside you, fingers stained with ink from his quill as he pulls back the sheets. your body curled up in the blankets trying to retain the warmth of your body heat that seems to be sucked out by the cold brick of the bedroom. 

“is is odd isn’t it? i felt someone’s eyes on me…” 

“i’m sure it was nothing, just… try and get some sleep.” 

he kisses your cheek turning off the oil lamp on his bedside. despite his presence the bed still felt empty. your husband is a busy man, pleasures of the flesh held no time in his schedule. 

hours pass and the moon high in the sky. your husband's sound asleep beside you, back pressed against yours only heightened the emotional distance you felt, so much for a honeymoon. you only desire, even for one night on this cursed trip to be ravaged by him, taken apart and put back together again in exquisite pleasure. yet he remains asleep, snoring softly into the pillows. 

you try to close your eyes, try to lull yourselves into the depths of sleep. counting backwards in your head, counting bloody sheep yet nothing prevails. the air in the bedroom grew still, a chill present in the air, eerily similar to what it was in the garden. your skin rose in goosebumps, unknowing yet anticipating. your head glued to the pillow, body turned on its side to curl further into the blankets, it would be easier if your husband was not hogging the majority of them. 

and then…a rush of warmth floods your loins, and an unparalleled bout of arousal forms in between your thighs. feeling ever so similar to fingers yet, the only man present was your husband and heaven forbid he would even attempt such a thing. your eyes shoot open, an attempt to sit up only makes your thighs weak. the blankets now shuffled at your feet, back pressing against the headboard of your bed, nightgown tossed above your thighs, cunt slick and wet and exposed to the midnight air. yet you did not attempt to touch yourself for the strange phantom ministrations provide all the pleasure you desire. 

“a pretty dove isn’t she?” a voice calls out from the corner of the room, your head swings around to meet the sound. in the corner, stands two figures familiar yet unknown. immediately, you go to wake your husband, shaking him in an attempt to alert him. yet he remains sound asleep. 

“do not bother, he will not disturb us” the other voice calls out, more delicate in comparison to the other. your body froze, arousal still pooling in your loins as the phantoms of his fingertips ravage your insides. they step out from the shadows, their cloaks billowing in the wind from the open window. your eyes widen….them…oh god god not them….

the two young masters the old woman had told you about. the taller of the two, his stance was more aggressive. white hair was kept short and cropped, still donning that grey suit in the painting. long slender fingers twirl in small circles by his side, and you feel every single movement despite the lack of contact. the other one makes slow strides to the foot of the bed, his muscular frame looming over you, yet he does not attempt to touch you. his face is also masked, yet his mouth is exposed, revealing sharp canines. you gulp thickly shuffling higher against the bed frame, he swiped his tongue against his bottom lip and you swore you could feel the sensation of it running against your clit. 

“she craves pleasure, iii”  

iii, you assume the taller of the two come closer to inspect. dark eyes admire the slickness of your cunt, watching the way you clench around nothing. iii also does not attempt to touch you, his fingers once again make small motions in the air, and you feel your cunt instantly spread, taking in the phantom of him. you stifle a moan, trying to force the intrusion out. 

“she’s desperate”, iii chuckles, the other mirrors this sentiment, stalking around your husband’s side of the bed.

“why don’t you take the lead, vessel? i’ll make sure this one doesn't disturb us”

“what…mmm...what have you done to him…?” you mention to your husband who remains in peaceful, unaware slumber. 

“he sleeps. he is unharmed…” vessel motions, taking in your features, admiring every inch of your figure, each crevice and curve hidden beneath the cotton shift obscured behind the almost arachnid-like mask, six eye-shaped creases replacing the natural two. canines prod out past his lips, through the open mouth of his mask, sharp and intimidating as his tongue flicks over them with ravenous intent. 

your eyes flicker back to your husband, asleep still, in a trance they seem to have put him under while they ravage you with their eyes and phantom fingertips. they still made no attempt to touch you at least not physically, you could not help but let out a moan as vessel stood back, arousal evident beneath his cloaks, ghosts of his hands groping your breasts, a taut feeling rising in your chest, feeling him squeeze the mounds of flesh between his fingertips. iii now decides to inspect, pale eyes accompanying his stare, adoring the way your cunt pulses, dripping with wetness. 

“little bird, you're dripping” although you could not see, his tongue juts out shifting his mask ever so slightly, as he licks his lips, and you could feel this. the small, dainty circles he traces against your clit, the full force as he flattens his tongue against you, drinking you in. you try your hardest to fight back you truly did, even as iii crawled onto the bed, stalking you like a predator would its prey, he keeps his hands to himself, fingertips barely grazing the cotton of your shift tracing over your perky nipples through the fabric. you stifle a breath, mouth going dry. 

“don’t try to fight it. give yourself to us” vessel chimes in, his breath fanning against your neck, warm and desperate. 

it was too overwhelming, the sensation, the overstimulation. your body betrays itself, possessed and giving into the phantom movements of their combined tongues and fingers and other various appendages. this could not be real, it's only a dream, a hideous, frightful dream. you’ll wake up in the morning, in your husband’s arms, body as untouched as the moment you went to bed. 

an intrusion in your throat made itself known, the air rapidly vanishing from your lungs despite the lack of a physical presence piercing the back of your throat with violent thrusts. you could not protest, choking on what could only be described as an invisible battering ram. the intensity rises in your stomach, heightened by their unrelenting persistence, iii swirled his fingers against the bedsheets mirroring the reaction against your clit, vessel hand stroking himself through his cloaks mimicking the ministrations that riddled your throat.

sweetness drips down your shaking thighs, with a mixture of pleasure, uncertainty and regret. although they had not touched you, your body still felt marred by their presence. as your high comes down, they take a step back, eyes stalking, teeth sharp, primed and ready to strike, yet they cease, simply watching you as you drift into peaceful slumber. 

their whispers echo throughout your mind.

“your husband is lost to you. dream of us…only us” 

-

the next morning is met with silence, your eyes sunken and hollow from lack of sleep, your appetite still fleeting despite your stomach’s hunger, this time barely taking small nibbles from the strawberry speared on your fork. as much as you tried to disregard the events of the previous evening, thoughts and memories still prevailed in your mind, the way their hands caressed your body despite the physical contact, how their fingers, tongues, teeth and manhood ravaged you in the best of ways. your thighs clench tightly together under the dining table at the thought. 

“you were tossing and turning an awful lot last night” your husband’s voice breaks the silence, shaking you from your thoughts. your breath hitches in your chest, skin goes clammy and cold. surely he did not hear, he was asleep like iii said he was, even when you tried to alert him he remained dead to the world. your stomach sinks with regret, no- you should not feel regret, those monsters took advantage of you in your most vulnerable of hours, despite the lack of touch, it made your skin itch and burn with shame. 

“just a bad dream is all, do not worry” you respond taking another hesitant bite of the strawberry. 

your husband chewed the inside of his cheek, his eyes not holding the same optimism as the day before, maybe he was just overworked, he did come to bed later than expected last night. 

“well all right then” he stands up from the dining table.

“oh, by the way, darling, i have been called back into town, something about closing a deal on a mansion in south london, i must leave before noon”

“what?” you are stumped by the sudden revelation. getting up and following him up the staircase as the servants once again began to clean the table with haste. 

“and what of our honeymoon-?”

“darling please do not argue with me on this, it is of the utmost importance that i close this deal so that way we can afford that cottage you wanted remember?”

“am i not important to you then? do you just expect me to stay here in this shithole by myself” 

“you watch your tone-!” you are taken aback by his sudden outburst, taking a small step back against the bedroom door. his breath heaving in his chest with frustration. “ no darling, you are important to me-”

“then i’m coming with you” 

“no, please. i’ll only be a couple of days” he begins to re pack his suitcase, which had conveniently been placed atop of the bed, its weight sinking into the plush velvet bedspread. 

“and what do you expect me to do for the time being huh?”

“i don’t know love, find a way to entertain yourself” he places a chaste kiss on your cheek. speeding out the door without a proper goodbye, you're left alone, seated in the silence of the bedroom, lingering thoughts of those two apparitions, monsters of whatever the hell they were in your mind and most definitely in your loins. and their eyes, cold and unloving stare you down, waiting with bated breath in the shadows, marring your skin with lust. 

-

you kept yourself locked in the bedroom for the rest of the day, servants leaving morsels of food left over from lunch and dinner at the foot of the door, plum scented merlot lingers in the air, and your stomach craves it. your body too heavy to lift the covers, to downtrodden in your own anguish to move, even as the moonlight bled through the curtains and their figures appeared through the window left ajar. 

their stares as ravenous as ever, vessel’s especially, canines desperate to gnaw on your flesh, consume you from the inside. their cloaks less formal, iii only adorned in a white dress shirt and a simple pair of linen slacks, vessels attire remains more or less the same, less form fitting you'd say. 

“you two…” you begin sitting up, feeling the warmth already pool in your loins despite your mind objecting to it in every sense of the word. vessel and iii remain silent, keeping their gaze fixated on you

“i’ve felt the two of you…crawling like serpents in my body…”

iii cocked his head to the side, white locks seems so contract against the black of night. his eyes crinkled into a cocky smirk. 

“it is not us” iii begins, taking a step forward towards the bed. “it is your own nature”

“no-! i love my husband-”

“your body says otherwise, little dove” vessel interrupts, pulling the sheets back, your body grows heavy again, locked in place with invisible shackles no matter how much you tried to break yourself free. iii runs his fingers up your exposed thigh, the sensation of him touching one unlike any other, gentle yet dominating. you wonder if vessel felt the same. 

“you are villains- monsters!”

iii’s finger traces even higher, drawing shapes into the skin of your upper thigh, so dangerously close to the axis, to your void of warmth. vessel accompanies him, only his fingers mimic iii’s actions down your chest, just at the lace trimmings where your breasts lay beneath. 

your breath hitches in your throat, a moan stifled underneath. iii and vessel’s ears perk up eagerly at the sound. 

“we are an appetite, nothing more” vessel reminds, fingertips sneaking underneath your shift, gingerly across the valley of your breasts. 

“you are deceivers-mmh-!” you moan despite your words of protest due to iii’s fingers finding your clit, taking solace in how swollen the hidden pearl had become under his touch.

“you deceive yourself” iii muses, drawing harsh shapes into your clit. your fingers tightened around the sheets, trying to ground yourself in reality.

this is all a dream it is not real-!

vessel’s hands grope your breasts, palms pressed firmly against your perky nipples. he leans in, tongue whispering against the shell of your ear as he speaks. 

“your passion is bound to us” his words are sinful, an unholy choir, his fingers, the conductors of chaos as they work their way around your body. 

“you cannot… mhm….you cannot love” your hips roll to the movements of iii’s fingers, now teasing your entrance with slow, intentional strokes. 

their cocks throbbing beneath their cloaks, iii grinds against the mattress, desperate for any form of friction. vessel strains in his shrouds, his size almost pressed against your cheek. your breath heightens, the sensation overwhelming as you try to gather your rationale. 

“we cannot…” iii mutters his voice slightly sombre. “yet…we cannot be satiated without you, little bird” 

vessel’s fingers linger at the straps of your shift, tugging them down with methodical delay. your breasts are now revealed to the midnight air, iii lets out a growl of hunger, ceasing his movements on your clit as he crawls up the bed, inspecting the stiffened buds further. iii begins to untie the ropes of his slacks shuffling them down, his cock slaps against his stomach, warm to the touch, drooling with pre-cum. vessel bares his fangs, canines grazing your skin. 

“you are our affliction…” vessel lulls, his tongue jutting out past his lips to lick the skin of your neck. 

before you can protest, he bites down hard. blood instantly pools in his mouth and he drinks you in reverently, determined and hungry with lust. a gasp catches in your throat and iii, ever the opportunist decides to silence you with his cock, forcing the lengthy appendage down your throat. your eyes well with tears, from the brutal force of iii’s cock and vessel’s teeth combined. your body retaliated, trying to push back yet the wetness still pools in your loins, iii’s fingers still wet with your slick as he holds your head still, hips pistoning his cock in and out of your throat. 

“god…she feels incredible…” iii mentions to vessel who continues to drain your lifeforce, swallowing drop after drop of crimson so much that iii had to remind him to satiate his appetite. 

vessel pulls away, licking up the small droplets of blood, trailing like ruby tears down your neck. your vision faded, they were nothing but blurred shapes clouding your senses. you gasp, ii having pulled out of your throat, to allow you some respite while vessel repositions himself between your thighs, your blood still dripping down his chin. 

“she tastes divine” vessel shudders with pleasure, swiping his fingers against your cunt, gathering the wetness from between your folds and sampling you. the taste of your essence mixed with your blood was nothing short of incredible, like ambrosia for him. iii only wishes he could indulge in you if it weren’t for the mask obscuring his mouth. 

iii’s jealousy spiked at the action, forcing his cock back down your throat, holding his position, adoring the way you gag around him. despite the lack of air, you did not attempt to stop him, the feeling was foreign but oh so wondrous, the air leaving your lungs, dark spots in your vision began to form only to disperse once he started moving again, only faster this time, taking strands of your hair between inky black fingertips, forcing you to take each inch of him. 

vessel is more delicate with his actions, his tongue twirling around your clit, drawing shapes and symbols into the swollen nub, gathering your juices on his tongue. your body feels heated, not sure if for the loss of blood, on the venom his fangs poured into you. either way, you felt elated, weightless, pleasure surging through your veins as you allow them to claim you, painting your body with invisible marks of lust, indentations of where their fingers prodded, tongues licked and palms caressed. 

“a goddess she is…” vessels words are muffled between your folds, lapping up each drop your body secreted. he kisses your inner thighs offering you some respite from the assault of his tongue. 

“i did not think she would take us so easily” iii comments, holding his cock in the back of your throat, almost on the edge of orgasm.

“she is skilled…that bastard is a lucky man indeed”

the two of them continue overworking your body, to the point where your thighs ached, your throat burns with pleasure and your cunt pulses with need. you moan around iii, oddly happy to receive the effort of his labour, pre-cum already mingling with your tastebuds, and you desire more, craved more of him, and of vessel too. 

without warning, vessel inserts two fingers inside you, your cunt welcoming the slender digits, his lips curl around your clit, sucking greedily at the sensitive pearl. 

“she is close…” vessel remarks, engaged in conversation with iii as if you weren't even there. 

“so am i” iii mutters through clenched teeth, his cock throbbing with an unparalleled need for release. 

you gush around vessel's fingers, dripping into the sheets below. his eyes darken, shot blood red as he licks your cunt clean. your throat constricting around iii, his cum pumped into the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow every last drop of him.

“fuck..” iii growls, pulling out of your mouth. 

your mind so fucked out that you did not even recognise that they were repositioning themselves. a mixture of shapes and colours clouded your vision, sensing iii was now behind you, he tugs you up by the hair, bringing his face to your neck, to where vessel had bitten you, inhaling the sweet scent of your blood deeply, a shuddering breath leaving his lips. 

vessel positions himself underneath you, hands groping your waist, juices your dripping cunt down, lower onto his cock. 

“let us ravage you, sweetheart. your body craves it” 

you could not produce words, syllables falling flat on your tongue as your throat burns from iii’s assault. instead of allowing you to speak, vessel kisses you, and the clash of your lips causes a cacophony of emotions to swirl through your mind. lust, hate, regret, disgust. iii from behind mimics vessel's actions, driving his cock into your already full cunt, your walls tight enough as is having to spread and make room for the both of them. and the pleasure…it is instantaneous, arousal swirling in your stomach, both of their cocks prodding out through your flesh. 

vessel breaks the kiss, his movements substantially slower and softer than iii’s. despite his masked features, he gazes into your eyes, drowning you in a sea of emptiness, a void unknown. a hand delicately comes up and cups your cheek, smoothing gentle circles into the skin with his thumb. 

“you shall be one with us for all eternity…mmhm…do you swear it?” his voice was like honey in your ears, a far cry from the ravenous, violent grunts of iii behind you.

your mind draws blank, empty and fucked out with pleasure. 

“do you swear it, little dove?” vessel repeats.

“i swear it…” you repeat the phrase like a mantra, perhaps in the hopes to actually have it come to fruition. vessel smiles a toothy, vampiric grin, placing another delicate kiss to your lips. 

a far cry from the chaste, almost platonic kiss your husband left you with. and it broke your heart to think so. yet as of now, your mind is preoccupied with pleasures of the flesh, the way these hellish creatures worship your body, and crave your presence even for just a moment. the missing piece to their unyielding lust. 

iii fills you, unannounced and your body is unprepared for the visceral reaction. his cum leaking out of you like a faucet, dripping down your inner thighs and coating vessel’s hips. 

“oh gods…” iii grumbles, his cock softening within you, still keeping you plugged and full of him. 

vessel chuckles softly. 

“pay him no mind, he just adores you so” 

iii hovers over you, nuzzling his face into your sweat-slicked shoulder blades. 

“you ours now, pretty bird” 

vessel grew closer to release, his cock throbbing inside you warmth. you lean into him, lean into the feeling of him as warmth spreads throughout your body. their cum mingles with yours, filling your womb with their unholy spawn. as vessel softens inside you, the two of them hold your body close, allowing their combined releases to incubate inside of you. 

“our angel…” iii begins, breathless pants ravaging his breath.

“you are to remain in this castle, forevermore. your husband is a stranger to you now. the only men who will be able to satisfy your desires will be vessel and i” 

vessel smirks into your neck, kissing the place where he had bitten.

“what do you say little dove, care to be ours forever?”

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡