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xticklemeemox · 3 days

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The Love You Want, III: Part Nine

if some of this feels rushed i'm very sorry i struggled with the end smut and also the sex convo towards the beginning <3 and this ended up way longer than i thought, which seems to happen a lot

okay fine i struggled with pretty much this entire thing i kind of hate some of it for not being detailed enough but my mind has failed me

Word count: 15,426

ao3 version

Masterlist

Previous Part

Fic under the cut <3

Vessel was exhausted. All he wanted was to rest. As much as Vessel enjoyed the sex, enjoyed the pleasure and the affection III gave him, he's so fucking tired. It wore him out, the most taxing thing he's done physically in a while. There will be no rest to recover from it either, no death to reset his body at the end of the day. He promised.

Vessel feels worthless. All he had to offer was his body. Now III won't even want to have sex with him, Vessel is sure, and II hasn't come to Vessel yet. Vessel is sure he won't want to have sex with him, either. He'd heard, and well, felt, II and III have sex. Maybe III has decided that Vessel isn't good enough. He knows II must have been good, made III feel what they'd made Vessel feel, if III was that loud, if their pleasure was that great even if he was confused as to why neither of them seemed to actually cum. Vessel doesn't know how to take control like that, never, ever would have dared Before. He could never make III feel that good. It's no wonder they went to II if Vessel wasn't enough.

Vessel... didn't know how to make them feel as good as he did. He wants to, though. To show them how much he loves them in a way they won't get tired of. Maybe they'll stay with him if he's good.

I was trying so hard though, Vessel thinks, pacing back and forth in his room as he holds his arms around himself so tightly it hurts, nails digging into his sides. A silent sob squeezes his lungs, trying to keep up the image of concentration over the bond to make it seem like he was working on something. Its more difficult than trying to fake calm, and it feels wrong to do after III had asked him not to, but Vessel can't help it. They can't know that Vessel is being pathetic over something like this.

He was quiet, and obedient, and Vessel actually ended up enjoying sex for the first time in, well, ever. Vessel knows he slipped up a little bit, but III was kind enough not to hit him over his mistake. They even lied and said they liked it when Vessel bit them. That was so nice of III to do... Vessel didn't deserve that kindness. Didn't deserve III's kindness when Vessel demanded they stay inside, or keep fucking him, that first time. Vessel really shouldn't have done that. Maybe Vessel's actions drove III away and it only took a little while for the infatuation to go away.

Vessel was desperate to punish himself. He needed to. He'd been bad, he knew one wrong move and III would leave him, wouldn't love him anymore. He knew II, fuck- Vessel's beloved II, was far more worthy of III's love and affection. They deserved each other, deserved to be happy. Vessel fears he might get in the way of that.

His claws finally break the skin below his ribs, but the pain does not bring much relief. It brings guilt, and shame. The only thing he can see in his minds eye is the terrified expression on III's face when Vessel had cut into his arm what feels like so long ago. The way II's eyes had seemed to dim, usually such a bright blue, as he forced a smile on his face for Vessel's sake, still giving Vessel kindness he didn't deserve.

Vessel drags his nails, just a little, as he pulls his hands away from his sides. He clasps them tightly around a bicep, holding himself in a hug. The house is silent when he leaves his room, II and III's bonds still fuzzy with sleep. Silent footsteps tread the floor until he reaches II's room, and Vessel is glad the door doesn't creak when he opens it. Minimal light from II's window shines in on the bed, golden rays illuminating the two cuddled together. III, the warmest of the two of them, has kicked off the sheets exposing long legs and some insanely short shorts that make Vessel blush up to his ears. II is curled into his side, face hidden in the space between III's side and arm, only his top half covered by the sheets. His sweatpant-covered legs are entangled with III's, his hair peeking out from under the blanket. Elvira opens her shining eyes to leer at Vessel from her spot curled up at II's feet, tilting her head. Vessel tilts his in return, and for just a moment, cat and vessel to a God stare at each other. Vessel looks away first and accepts defeat with a small huff of a laugh.

Vessel takes his phone out and snaps a picture, or three. The smile that had twitched onto his face falls at the glimpse of something that fills Vessel with more shame. Visible on III's neck is a purple bite mark, teeth indents a darker color than the rest of the bruise. Vessel knows he is the cause of the damaged skin and hates himself all the more for it.

He turns from the doorway, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible. He thought it would be alright to go in, to join them, but Vessel doesn't feel as though he deserves it, doesn't deserve the safety and the reassurance it would bring to lay with them. Not after he left a bruise on III. If III won't punish him for it, Vessel will do it by denying himself the comfort of their presence.

Vessel finds himself outside, wandering Sleep's realm aimlessly. No shoes adorn his feet as he follows a small stream deeper into the forest. A hand trails along the bark of the trees as he passes, enjoying the harsh scraping against his fingertips. It feels less like he's intentionally hurting himself, and it makes him feel less guilty about pressing his fingers further into the bark so that the pain becomes greater.

Bracket mushrooms follow his fingertips, sprouting where he touches. Vessel loves this forest, every habitual breath he takes that he does not need is echoed here. He feels it in the trees, with every step he takes. The forest thrives with his presence, and Vessel feels at peace. The objects of Vessel's desire lay in that big house that contains his heart, but it is not his home. He has no home, has never had one.

A snap of a twig to his right causes Vessel's mind to be brought back to the present, to his body. He notices the silence in the forest first, no rustle of leaves in the wind nor birdsong. No animal life skittering over the floor or the telltale humming of a bug's wings. His head turns with the force of some instinct he can't resist, and he meets the empty-socketed gaze of a deer, a stag easily taller than Vessel. Its large off-white horns branch out from its bare skull, a skeleton with mottled remnants of muscle and tendons hanging off its bones. The stags ribs on one side are completely visible, showing empty space where organs should be, and where there is less bone, ghoul fungus protrudes and red moss is in the place of fur. It stands out against the greens and browns of the forest, the red leaves and vines like splashes of blood over the antlers, dripping down from the bones. It steps forward on legs that should not move, missing all of its nerves and tendons on its limbs, just a single step, and no further, then seems to wait for something, empty gaze seeming to bore into Vessel's intensely.

Vessel had seen this creature before, he realizes with a start. In Sleep's realm, the one time he had been allowed to rest. It had been there, nearby, staring at him when Sleep had returned Vessel's mind to this realm. It was such a brief encounter Vessel hadn't recalled it when he woke up, desperate to get out the lyrics his God had given him. He recalls it now, though, with the stag in the earthly realm.

A bird caws. All six of Vessel's eyes move towards the sound at its nearness, ending the stare down he had been having with the stag, both of them still as statues. On a low hanging branch, a crow sits, head tilted at Vessel curiously with a necklace clutched in one foot. Vessel tilts his head in return, following the crow's lead as it tilts its head the other direction.

"Pretty birdy." Vessel murmurs, and the crow stills.

It does not blink, nor even seem to breathe. Then, so suddenly it startles Vessel, it caws loudly, so loudly it hurts Vessel's ears. He flinches back from the sound, ducking his head as the bird takes flight. The necklace is dropped at his feet, and he reaches down to pick it up. Antique gold and littered with coins all along the lengthy chain, Vessel turns one over in his fingers, taking in the etchings.

When Vessel turns back to the stag, he finds it gone, nowhere to be seen. There are no footprints left where it stood, nor a trail leading off anywhere into the forest. It is as though the deer had never been there at all, and Vessel wonders if he hallucinated the whole thing. The necklace clutched tightly between his fingers says otherwise.

He fiddles with its coins for the rest of the walk, running his thumb over each coin, then the other side before moving along the chain. He repeats the cycle, taking in the forest and readying himself for when the others wake up. He's not ready to talk about anything sexual. Wonders what he should or should not say. There is no attachment to the act, for Vessel. At least... at least there wasn't. He can't shake the image of III falling apart above him, rough but never hurting him as they fucked Vessel... listened to Vessel's selfish requests and did not hurt him. III should have, Vessel would have deserved it.

It should be easy enough, in theory, to let II and III talk about whatever they want... but Vessel is confused, already, about what they're to talk about in the first place. He knows if he asks, they'll answer. They've always answered him. They have never ignored him, never made him feel as though his voice is not welcome. He feels guilty when he cannot give it to them, even.

It could have been minutes or hours since Vessel had seen the crow and the stag, lost in his thoughts, before he feels III waking. He starts back as soon as the fuzziness of sleep begins to clear from their bond, realizing quite suddenly that he did not leave them a note or a text to let them know where he was going. He brings out his phone as he walks, attempting to type as he goes but trips almost immediately over a stray root he had not seen. Vessel manages to save his phone from a terrible fate, but not his knees. They ache faintly when he stands, birds tweeting mockingly, and he makes sure to stand still while he texts this time.

(Eepies)

Vessel: Good morning :::) Went out on a walk, heading back now.

?¿?: good morning pretty! i love you see you when yuo get back!! be careful!!!

Vessel: I love you, too! :::D

III spams Vessel's phone with heart emoji's and blushing, smiling faces and Vessel feels warm with affection. He loves III so, so much. Wants III to love him enough to stay, for II to stay.

"You'll grow flowers without even being asked, and yet you let me trip and fall without a care. I suppose you really are attuned to my hearts desire for pain." Vessel mutters to the forest as he continues walking.

Another root sticks up and almost trips him again before he even finishes his sentence. Vessel huffs out an irritated laugh, "Do as you will with me, but try any of this with Two or Three and I'll set you on fire."

A raven croaks out something that resembles a mocking laugh and Vessel finds himself amused. He can't believe he's talking to a forest and the life within it is responding to him. The walk back is quicker, Vessel eager to see the others again, no matter how the conversation later is going to go. III is humming from the kitchen when Vessel enters the house and stops at the open doorway, hopping down from the counter after setting their drink down.

They taste like coffee when they ask Vessel for a kiss, sweet caramel flavoring on Vessel's split tongue as their curls tickle Vessel's cheeks. "I made your usual." III smiles, a pretty thing that lights up their face.

Vessel flushes under the affection, something warm bubbling up in his chest, taking the offered mug with both hands. He lets it warm his cold fingers as II stumbles into the kitchen, shirt askew, hair a mess, and sweatpants very low on his hips. Vessel finds himself staring over the lip of his mug as he takes a generous sip of his coffee, watching as III kisses II just the same as they'd kissed Vessel, handing II his own mug filled with steaming tea.

"Thank you, love." II says, holding the mug with one hand as he takes a sip, leaning into III's side.

"Anytime, Doll. We should have that conversation when you wake up fully. Vessel just got back from a walk."

"Yes, yes, of course." II agrees, walking over to Vessel's side and asking for a kiss.

Vessel leans down so his face is nearer to II's, smiling when II places a kiss to his chin instead of his lips. Vessel leans down just a little further at II's pout, letting the other plant a soft kiss to the bitten skin of Vessel's lips.

"Good morning, Vessel." II murmurs as he pulls away, breath ghosting over Vessel's mouth.

"Good morning, Two." Vessel breathes out, feeling a little dazed from just a single kiss. "I'm... I'm gonna put something in my room. I'll be right back."

Vessel sets his mug down, face warm as he fingers the necklace in his pocket. He wants to put it somewhere safe before he forgets about it.

"Miss you already, love." III says, taking a sip of II's tea.

II grumbles incoherently as he leans into III's side. Vessel walks away with a blush and a fond smile. Vessel's mug has been brought from the kitchen to the living room by the time he returns, and it makes Vessel feel warm, for a moment, that they had thought of him. Even so, Vessel shoves himself into the far corner of the couch, away from where the other two have pressed close, still sipping at their drinks. II looks far more awake now, tired eyes watching Vessel over his mug, just as III is.

Taking a deep breath, Vessel asks what has been on his mind since they first got together, diving right into the conversation even as he feels he may throw up from the nerves.

"Your main intent was to bed me, was it not? That is what all of the kissing is for, right?" Vessel blurts nervously, and almost stops talking entirely at the thunderous expressions that strike over II and III's faces, "It took longer than I thought it would. You waited longer than my other partners did."

III is practically vibrating with his fury, spindly fingers clawing at their jeans until he forces them away when they stand. II lets out a measured breath as he sets his mug down.

"No, Vessel. That is not at all why I have kissed you so profusely since we got together." III's voice is filled with barely contained rage, and Vessel shrinks back at the sound, arms coming to wrap around himself.

"Oh." Vessel's voice is small, shaky, as he keeps his gaze focused resolutely on the floor.

Despite what III has said, Vessel expects a hit for his gall. He knows he will expect a hit... for a long time, but he wants to believe that III won't hit him. He wants the other vessels to be different than the others of his past. He wants, and wants, and wants. Even so, he tenses, and resolutely does not meet III's eyes. That had only served to make his first partner angry, and Vessel learned better. There was only one scenario he had wanted Vessel to look at him, and this isn't it.

III keeps his hands loose at their sides and in full view of Vessel as they move closer.

"I'm going to take your hands now." III states as they kneel in front of Vessel.

Vessel does not verbally respond, does not nod or shake his head, he doesn't do anything. Only sits there, frozen like a statue. His hands are cold in III's when they take them, shaking visibly.

"I kiss you, because outside of holding your hand, Vessel, it is the only way I can show my love for you physically. I do not want to upset you, so I heed your wishes to leave your chest alone when all I want is to trace the markings there, to- To be able to hold you. I heed your wishes to not touch your neck when all I want is to lavish it in attention when I fuck you so you know you're mine. So you do not doubt my affections."

"I..." Vessel starts, voice hoarse as his throat starts to close up from the tears he is trying desperately to hold back.

They slip down his cheeks anyway, overcome with the desperate echoes of believe me, believe me, believe me, being sent from III's bond.

"I had sex with you because I love you, and I've been blessed with another way to physically show you."

Vessel feels stricken, and it shows clearly on his face. His fingers twitch, aching to reach for his mask to hide behind. His bond is a mess of so many emotions that he couldn't begin to properly pick them apart.

"I did not know. I am sorry. I am..."

Vessel swallows thickly. He wants them to know him. He wants them to love him despite how broken he is.

Vessel has always been quick to bend and break under his basic need to be loved and close to someone.

"I am not used to my partners wanting to show me affection without sex being the end goal." Vessel bites his lip, slowly moving his top pair of eyes to meet III's, "They did not kiss me for any other reason than to use my body. They did not show me affection unless they wanted something. Sex was not an act of love."

"...Any of them? Not a one of them fucking-" II mutters, shoving his hands under his thighs to keep them still.

"My first partner had already broken me out of refusing sex. I loved him, so I didn't mind. It just meant a few minutes of- Of his weight smothering me. Of pain when we fucked cause he was... so rough. But he was kind afterwards, would hold me if I asked, would kiss me as much as I wanted. He... stopped being that nice eventually. The others, neither of them ever asked to- and- and I wanted them to be pleased with me so-. I loved them. I loved them and- and they loved me too so it was okay if it hurt- I deserved it. I loved them."

"You deserve far more than whatever pitiful excuse for love they gave you. They did not love you in return, sweetheart." II cannot hide his ire, but he tries his damn hardest to not raise his voice.

"Is that why you were so confused when I prepped you, Vessel?" III struggles to keep the enraged bite out of their voice as they reach up very slowly to wipe at Vessel's tears, hating how Vessel still flinches back.

It just makes III angrier. Vessel had been working so hard to stop flinching, he'd been doing so well. Even as those thoughts flood III's mind, they can't stop going back to what Vessel had said, at what that means has happened-

And Vessel doesn't even understand it himself. Doesn't understand what has been done to him. III isn't sure he ever wants Vessel to know- to realize...

III glances up to II, foot tapping with the fiercest grimace III has seen since he's known him.

"I did not know it was something you did for whoever was on the bottom. Not with another male, at least. My other two partners after him were female. They did most of the work, didn't like when I- existed. So- I kept quiet, and did as told. I have always been easy to push around. My parents made sure of it." Vessel continues blandly, even as his face has crumpled into a nervous expression that screams of despair and shame.

So much shame.

"It felt better with the girls, almost good, even. It didn't hurt to have sex with them like it did my boyfriend. They- Liked to hurt in other ways." Vessel knows he should stop talking, knows that the other vessels don't want to hear any of this, surely don't want to know how useless he was at sex, but he can't, not now that he's started.

Talking about the sex is the easiest part of talking about his past. He had so little care for the act until III pleasured him like he'd never felt before.

"I didn't know sex was supposed to feel that good for whoever was on the bottom."

"It is." II says, distraught but striving to be gentle with his tone, "Sex is supposed to be feel good for everyone involved. Your past partners did you a disservice, Vessel. Every one of them."

"Sex is not a blood sport Vessel. It is not something where you fight for control and only one person comes out on top and gets to feel pleasure. We're going to show you that, if you'll let us. You deserve to know what sex is supposed to be like." III follows up with, looking just as miserable as II.

"I don't- I'm sorry. I didn't know." Vessel murmurs, feeling as though his shame is going to replace the blood in his veins.

"It is not your fault. You had no one to teach you. We will." II states, desperate for Vessel to understand.

"Did you really enjoy it when we had sex or did you lie with the bond again?" III asks, head falling down to rest their forehead on Vessel's hands still held in their grasp.

III feels nauseous at just the thought of Vessel not telling them if he was hurting him, if- If Vessel didn't want to have sex at all and III has just become like everyone else that has hurt Vessel. More tears prick their eyes, and III fears he may throw up.

No, no, Vessel didn't want III to think- This isn't what he intended.

"I enjoyed it. Believe me." Vessel insists, practically begging, "You were the first person I've ever wanted to fuck me. Before you, I had never- I always wanted it to be over quick. I knew they would leave when they were done. You- You stayed. You- Were so kind to me. You made me feel good."

"You, um, cleaned me up after, too. I didn't even bleed and you still-." Vessel mumbles, flustered, still feeling surprised at how nothing had hurt with III.

The relief III feels is immediate, flooding their system and loosening their tense muscles. His tears spill over at the relief, a harsh breath being released even as III knows it should be a sob, but they refrain with tremendous effort. Alongside that relief is the ever present hot coil of anger. Vessel had looked pleasantly surprised when he had said there was no bloodshed when they'd had sex. III knows that kinks can be painful, bloody, if that is what is desired. III knows that was not what Vessel meant, can see it on his face, can feel it in the bond.

"That's what you're supposed to do, sweetheart." II says gently, and Vessel can only nod because he didn't know that either.

"Can we, uh, get on with the conversation we had originally intended, about the sex?" Vessel tries to move on, needs the attention to move on from him even if only momentarily.

II and III share a loaded glance as III wipes their tears. It takes effort to stifle their shared rage, their shared despair, but Vessel is still keeping his bond open to them, is still willing to share parts of himself. They're not going to waste the chance to know more about him, no matter how it grates so deeply under their skin, against bone it feels like. It hurts to love Vessel, and yet it is so easy. They want him, they love him, no matter how it hurts because the pain that has been dealt to him is not his fault. The pain that has been dealt to him has not turned him towards cruelty. He has kept his kindness, kept his softness. He has not let it harden his heart. Vessel is a man filled with love for everything around him unless it threatens those who have his heart. Love for everything except himself.

"Okay, sweetheart. I know you don't have much to go off of, so I'll start, then Three can go. If you have questions about what either of us are into, I want you to ask." II starts off, and Vessel nods, even if he's still unsure about this whole thing.

"As Three found out last night, I'm into edging."

"Is that what you were doing last night?" Vessel asks, and II nods.

"Yeah, I like when I'm brought to the edge of cumming and then not allowing myself to. I find the orgasms feel, ah, more fulfilling I suppose?"

"Why were you doing it to Three, then?"

III snorts, cheek leant on Vessel's knee. He looks so pretty below Vessel, watery blue eyes filled with mirth. "I was being a brat. That's the role I like playing in the bedroom. I disagree or disobey and get manhandled or ordered into obedience. It doesn't hurt unless I ask it to. It's something to be talked over with your partner beforehand, though. I did something Two told me I shouldn't and he didn't let me cum yesterday. That is what's considered a punishment, but one I didn't mind receiving. Its not supposed to be anything detrimental to your health or peace of mind."

Vessel isn't really sure if that is something he would consider a punishment. Before III had finished speaking, the idea of II punishing them was concerning. Vessel could only think of II hurting III, but he didn't feel any pain from III yesterday when the two had sex.

"It would be better to show you, sweetheart." II says when he feels Vessel's concerned confusion down the bond.

III nods along, agreeing, "You and I have a different bedroom dynamic than me and Two, which is completely normal. Your dynamic with Two will likely be different too, if you have sex."

"I'm also technically considered a dom, or dominant. I like having control during sex, and usually don't like it being taken from me. I do like when Three fights for it, though. I know they have no intention of keeping any control they gain." II explains, finally scooting closer to press their thighs together on the couch.

"Well, maybe I do like having control for a little while." III smiles mischievously, winking up at Vessel playfully.

It makes him smile even if he's still confused. "It does sound different than when you topped me." Vessel adds, reaching slowly to play with a strand of III's hair.

III's leans into the touch with a smile, and Vessel carefully threads his fingers down to the scalp, holding his fingers there. III's eyes flutter closed for a moment, but Vessel does not yet move his fingers. He watches, waits for any sign III is going to pull away, any sign they will grow angry with Vessel, and then begins to run his fingers through III's hair.

"My third would pull my hair." Vessel blurts, and guilt immediately floods the bond like a dam has broken.

"I wish you would have told me, Vessel. I wouldn't have done that." III says, wiping a stray tear away hurriedly as he blinks his eyes open.

Vessel wishes he hadn't said anything. He expects III to pull away, but the other doesn't move away from Vessel's gentle hand that has stilled in their hair.

"Its alright, though. It didn't hurt when you did it. I did not even lose any strands of my hair. She would pull back so far that it made it hard to breathe, but she liked that. You were so careful that the memory slipped away before I could, ah, panic."

"I wouldn't mind if you wanted to do it again, since it's you, but it didn't make me feel good. It was just something you had done- Does that make sense?" Vessel stumbles, trying to explain but not sure he's managing.

"That just means its not one of your kinks, sweetheart. It's normal to not be into everything your other partner is." II reassures, pressing his arm into Vessel's so their bodies are flush against each other.

"I... liked being told I was good." Vessel offers, with a tilt of his head.

II and III don't even mind that the conversation has detailed from its original intent. Any information from Vessel is a blessing, no matter how saddening or enraging.

"I noticed. I like being called a good boy in bed, too." III affirms with a smile.

Vessel is a little confused though. It wasn't being called a good boy that made Vessel feel good, it was- It was being praised, he thinks.

"I think I just like being told I'm being good. In general. I like- I like feeling like I'm contributing to your pleasure. I just- I-" Vessel can't seem to articulate it properly, and he doesn't know if there's even a term for it.

"You've got a praise kink, probably." II offers up, almost certain he's right.

"You like biting, too. When you bit me, I could tell it was an instinctual reaction. You... stopped and pulled away very quickly." III brings up exactly what Vessel was hoping they wouldn't.

"I'm not allowed to bite. It's- It's weird. And just another of my freakish mutilation habits."

"Things are different here Vessel. If you want to bite, then you can. When you bit me, we both enjoyed it. I love the teeth marks you've given me, loved the sting when I received it. It's like- Like you've marked me as yours."

Vessel ducks his head to hide the embarrassed flush over his cheeks.

"I was surprised you didn't hit me when I did it. I expected you to. My previous partners would have... I bruised you. I left a mark." Vessel starts trying to braid strands of III's hair just to have something to do with his hands, trying to will away the new tears gathered in his eyes.

"Hitting you has never crossed my mind. It will never be something I even consider." III should feel offended that Vessel thinks so little of them, but knows that other, less kind hands, have hurt him.

"I deserved it, Three. I know I hurt you when I did it. I deserved to be hit for it."

"Would it make you feel better if every mark you left on me, I return? I'm entirely willing to bite you back." III offers, trying to compromise in a way Vessel will agree to.

III hates that they know Vessel will likely agree to this, if it means Vessel gets hurt back. They're going to get him out of this thought process that sex is going to hurt. If III is right, then Vessel is going to enjoy being bit in return. He's going to teach Vessel that III wants to be bitten whenever the need strikes Vessel because III likes the thought of being owned by him. Whether its during sex or not.

"I do not expect either of you to pander to my tastes." Vessel states, trying desperately to grasp on to some familiarity.

Fuck, Vessel shouldn't have said anything. He should have kept his mouth shut about anything sexual, for his own sake. They're going to leave him now for sure. He wants them to love him, he wants them to stay. He wants them to stay so badly.

III eyes the expanse of Vessel's thighs near his face, wondering where would be best, before they lean down and sink their teeth right above Vessel's knee.

Vessel's hand slips out of III's hair as he lets out something akin to a surprised squeak. III's teeth do not break skin through the fabric of Vessel's clothes, but that wasn't their intention anyway.

III catches Vessel's confused gaze, feeling triumphant at the thread of arousal now thrumming through the bond that certainly wasn't there a moment ago.

II watches in a mix of wonder and amusement as III moves to a different spot to bite down, sinking their teeth into a different part of Vessel's thigh. Vessel's arousal only grows, along with his bafflement and the blush staining his cheeks pink. Not once does Vessel's bond show any pain, a testament to III's control as they move to Vessel's other leg, biting on the inside of the thigh as Vessel releases a breath of held air.

"I am not pandering to anything. You're mine, ours, and I'm showing you. Claiming you. I've left my mark, now. I'll happily leave more if you'll let me." III says, finally pulling away.

His head lays on Vessel's knee again, a hand coming to trace the line of spit in the shape of his mouth soaked into Vessel's jeans.

Arousal surges through Vessel like a tidal wave at the words, and he wants nothing more than for III to fuck him right then. A smirk slides onto III's face, knowing exactly what Vessel wants and completely willing to give it to him.

III goes to stand, blue eyes stormy with lascivious intent, but II stops them, "Ah, ah, we've not finished our conversation. You can go at it in a little while, once we're done."

"But Two, he really wants it-"

"I said no, Three, or did you not want to cum today either?" II smiles knowingly, a hand coming to rest on Vessel's unoccupied knee.

A pout makes its way onto III's face, but they nod in agreement anyway.

"Words, pretty."

A groan is muffled into Vessel's thigh as III turns to hide, "Yes, sir. I understand."

"Good boy."

Vessel tilts his head, wondering if this is the dynamic the others had spoken of coming into play. It is... interesting to watch, to see how II handles III whining and pouting playfully. Its endearing to see, even, to see III this way. Vessel knows he would never have the courage to do something like this, nor be allowed to.

"Explain the safe word and color system, like I asked yesterday, Pretty." II says, and III nods, cheek smushed against Vessel's knee.

"I'm sorry, Vessel, I should've explained this to you when we had sex. Do you know what a safe word is? Or the color system?"

Vessel's head tilts involuntarily in confusion, and while II and III love how cat-like it makes him seem, it clearly shows he has no idea of what III's just asked.

"It's where you have a word used during sex if someone needs to stop. Its usually used for more hard-core sexual scenarios, but can be used whenever. The color system is basically like a stop light. Green for go, yellow for slow, and red for stop. Red means you stop whatever you're doing entirely, no matter what it is."

"I've never heard the terms before." Vessel admits quietly as his mind races.

II and III nod, having already expected this.

Vessel doesn't understand why they're explaining this to him. Doesn't understand what this has to do with him. He thinks, heavily confused, that they could just stop. They could pull away, stop kissing him, stop fucking him. They don't need to tell him anything, or use some weird color system.

"It's pretty easy to utilize once you're actually having sex, even if the concept seems a little simple, silly even." III goes on, both he and II watching Vessel closely for any ounce of comprehension.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Vessel blurts, brows furrowed.

II and III share a glance that Vessel does not miss. "So you can tell us how you're doing during sex, Sugar."

Vessel hunches into himself further, very slowly inching his hand back to wrap a finger around one of III's curls.

"Why would I say anything if it ruins your pleasure?" Vessel asks, meekly.

"Getting off means little if you're suffering mentally or physically, Vessel. You matter more to us than either of us cumming." II tries, but Vessel still doesn't seem to understand.

"We want you to enjoy the sex too, Sugar, and we want you to tell us with the color system if we do something you don't like."

"We went over this earlier, sweetheart. We want to have sex with you because it will feel good for all us, but mainly because we love you. We want to make you feel pleasure, just as much as we want to feel it too."

"I don't- I do not understand why it matters though. I will be content if only you two found your release. Mine does not matter."

"It matters to us." III asserts, "We want you to tell us if you're not sure about what we're doing, or if you want to stop entirely. We want you to tell us if you don't want to have sex at all. I will always listen to you. Always."

"Okay." Vessel agrees quietly, and III kisses Vessel's knee affectionately, an arm hugging his leg.

II leans his head on Vessel's shoulder, taking Vessel's hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. The conversation continues after a moment, as II and III go back to going over their preferred kinks. Neither have anything they don't particularly care for, but III admits that there hadn't been much want to explore anything. They keep trying to encourage Vessel to add on his own preferences, if he had any, but they all find that Vessel never got the chance to figure out what he likes outside of his biting kink.

"That's okay, sweetheart, we'll figure it out together." Is what II reassures Vessel with, but Vessel isn't sure how well that is going to play out.

Vessel does not intend to use the color system, does not intend to share his likes and dislikes. Just because the sex is suddenly amazing, it doesn't erase what everyone who has ever fucked him has said, what they've done.

III stays wrapped around Vessel's leg, only shifting positions a little once the conversation is over. II curls up at Vessel's side, leaning into him as far as Vessel allows. Vessel knows III's knees must ache as he continues kneeling, but III seems perfectly content to stay there as they reach for the game controller on the coffee table, starting up NieR: Automata again on their shared save file.

Vessel lets III play first since he's gotten through this part off the game on his own, content to run his fingers slowly through III's hair again, loose enough to pull away quickly in case III does not like him doing so anymore. The other vessels bonds were a mess of emotions, even as they all tried to distract themselves with the game. Vessel was sure that II and III were angry with him. Why else would their bonds be filled with such rage? He must have said something wrong, been too curious about what was being said. He must have made some sort of mistake. Vessel wishes he had the courage to ask what could be done to rectify it.

II frowns, eyeing Vessel as he glances back at the game. "Penny for your thoughts, Ves?" II's voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, trying not to disturb III who is hyper focused on the fight they're in.

Vessel takes some time to think of what he should say. If he should say anything at all. He wants them to know him, wants them to love him, to stay with him.

"I- Are you angry with me?" He murmurs, leaning over just far enough that his cold breath ghosts against II's ear.

It sends a shiver down his spine even as one side of his mouth tilts just so into a frown. "No, I'm not mad at you. I can guarantee that Three isn't either. We are upset, yes, but its at the people who hurt you."

"Why? There is no need for it."

II's brow furrows, first in confusion, then in thought. "I love you. I do not want you hurt. To imagine what you must have gone through, the pain... It makes me sad. It makes me angry at those who did it to you. It is the same as when that bastard hurt our Three. You were angry for him, as was I. It's- Vessel, honey, it's the same thing."

Oh... Vessel supposes he understands, and yet...

"I am not worthy of it then, your anger on my behalf."

"You are worthy of it though. You became worthy of it that first moment you smiled at me, the first time our eyes met. The first kind word you gave."

Vessel averts his gaze, gnawing at his lip in thought. II is glad to see him not refuting his words immediately, turning his head to place a featherlight kiss to Vessel's shoulder. "... It- feels nice to have someone be angry for me, instead of at me. I just- I do not feel as though I am worth the effort. I don't think I ever will."

"It took me a long time to realize that I was good at drumming, that I was skilled, not just talented. That I deserved the praise given to me by my teacher, by my mother's. I never thought I was going to go anywhere with my drumming, it was just a hobby, but... We're going to start a band. You, Three, and I. I know you two acknowledge what I've done to gain that skill. If we never make it anywhere with our music, you two, your acknowledgement of my time and effort, will be enough. What I'm trying to get at is that... accepting yourself, accepting your flaws, it is not easy. It took time and effort on my part, and my mothers belief in me, to want to love myself. To appreciate what I've done and the effort I've put into the things that are important to me. Am I- Am I making any sense?"

III pauses the game, leaning back between Vessel's thighs and looking up at him and II through wet lashes. "You are to me. I did not accept myself, when I was younger. I tried very hard to be someone I wasn't-"

III sucks in a sharp breath, turning in between Vessel's legs to kneel between them properly, reaching out for comfort through Vessel and II's hands, freely given. III's grip is tight in Vessel's own, and Vessel wants to show his support, to transfer all the comfort they've ever given him back to III. Their head comes to rest on Vessel's thigh, eyes falling closed as they think over what to say.

"I saw all of these people, kids like I was. Adults, elders, no matter their age... So many of them in that town went along with what was expected of them and they were not happy because of it. That old woman from that thrift shop we went to... the first time I'd ever bought a skirt for myself was there. I was terrified going up the register, trying to think up an excuse. She didn't care about what I was buying... She only asked if it was for myself or a friend. I told her the truth, and she smiled without many teeth left, and was so kind. She told me it was fine to wear whatever I wanted, no matter what anyone else said. It- It was a very short interaction but it meant the world to me. I never got to thank her for it. I'm surprised I remember that, actually. I thought Sleep had taken almost everything but our painful memories."

"He left some of my good ones, too. The important ones." II murmurs, lifting III's hand to kiss the palm.

III continues, "What I'm trying to say is that, if it weren't for that old woman showing kindness, accepting me, I'm not sure if my road to accepting myself would have been possible at all. Just one person believing in you, believing in your potential to change, to grow, can be enough."

"To love oneself is not the easy task we are sometimes told it is. We are all limited by something. We are all guilty of something. The first step is wanting to try."

Vessel does not say anything for some time. He turns their words over and over and over in his mind. He did not realize that II had struggled with his own self-confidence before. You would not guess it, seeing him now. Knowing what his wish to Sleep was. Seeing how much skill he contains in his short body. It was hard won skill, Vessel realizes now.

III had asked to be accepted by those around him. Vessel did not realize with them, either, that their want for acceptance from others had to first be attained for himself, by themself. They had both worked to be the people they are today.

Vessel, he does not want to stay the same. He does not want to be the same person he was before he became the Vessel of a God. Already, he knows he has changed. It was more than the physical changes gifted to him.

There was not a chance in hell Vessel would have ever tried to lessen his own pain, Before. Every slice into his skin was done with the intention to hurt. Every slice was meant to sting for as long as possible. He never would have cleaned them, bandaged them, Before. Not even when he first arrived to the manor.

II had helped him, encouraged him to take a little better care of himself. He always seems so proud of Vessel when he comes to him, having hurt himself and yet still had tried to take care of the self-inflicted wounds. Vessel never wants to see that look on III's face ever again, when Vessel had taken a knife to his skin right in front of them.

Vessel wants to be better for them, even if they do not stay with him. He... isn't sure if he wants to be better for himself which he is sure is what II and III would say is most important, knowing them.

He wants to be worth their love and care, if what they say is true. He wants to be worth the time and effort they've put in with him.

Vessel doesn't say anything, but he nods shortly, and II smiles, kissing Vessel's shoulder again, once, twice, before lifting Vessel's hand to kiss his palm. III unpauses the game after pressing a short kiss to Vessel's stomach, an action that causes him to let out a small laugh as III turns back around. A quiet thing that couldn't even be considered whisper-level, and yet the sound sent II and III's hearts soaring in adoration. III leans back between Vessel's legs again, and Vessel's threads his fingers through their hair, other held clasped in II's.

II and III stand to go make lunch around midday, dragging Vessel along with them despite his light protests. They stay close to him, giving him simple tasks that absolutely do not require the use of any sort of blade.

Vessel remains thoughtful, truly thinking over what II has said. II isn't sure he completely got through to Vessel about being worthy of their love and care, but this is progress. He never would have believed him when they first met. He declines when they ask him if he wants to join them in worship, and they let him go off to his room without a fight. Each had the same request of their God, and it was better for Vessel to not be near in case he refused them.

II and III kneel together at the altar, thighs pressed close. In front of them are bunches of daffodils and bellflowers tied together with string on either side of the table. Individual flowers without their stems lay strewn about, and a bouquet of the prettiest ones, touched by Vessel's hand, glow gently from their place on the offering plate.

They have been trying to keep their seething rage under wraps since their talk with Vessel. It was not rocket science to puzzle out what Vessel had said happened to him. What atrocity had been done to him, repeatedly, by people who claimed to love him.

The candles are lit, all except the largest in the middle of the table, set towards the back. Their skin darkens, going fuzzy around the edges while bits of black seem to flake off into the air before dissipating. The sight is familiar as Sleep's powers wash over them, as their worship commences. III's eyes glow brighter than II's, striking blue in the midst of the black of their sclera, of their skin.

"Would you allow us to kill those who hurt Vessel?" II starts off, voice a sharp blade of anger.

He tries keeping his voice low, so Vessel doesn't hear in the room over. The red candle lights, golden glow flickering against the sigil on the wall above and behind it. Their God has arrived, and in turn their eyes glow brighter, bodies humming with the presence of their God. It is a pleasant feeling, familiar. Their worship is stronger together.

'Those who hurt him? It is a long list including himself... Ah, I see. My First's past partners. If you wish it, the people of his past still live... Alas,' Sleep explains, voices heard only in their minds, 'It is not time for their lives to end.'

"What? But why?! Do you understand what they've done to him?" II struggles not to shout, hands fisted over his thighs.

In Vessel's room, they can hear a thud against the floor and a brief flash of pain. They both send their alarm down the bond and Vessel sends back his own reassurances, the blurred image of a knocked over stack of books following.

III's hand reaches out to take one of II's once they're sure Vessel is okay, forcing II to clasp their fingers together. The touch helps ground II, to calm himself some.

'You have not heard of all that has been done to him. All that he has done. You are ignorant of many things. When the Fourth is chosen, when you find out everything of import, you must all decide if you are to stay with my First. I will not keep fickle vessels who will not adhere to their purpose.'

"We're not going to leave him no matter what happens." II snaps, angry at the mere thought that he would ever abandon Vessel.

"He killed people for me. I would do the same for him, for Two. Nothing that has been done to him or that he has done is going to make us leave him." III tries, firm in tone and gaze.

'You are still ignorant of many things. Your continued devotion to him, to me, is not certain.' Sleep reiterates, distaste clear in His tone.

"What about the person, or people, who killed Vessel? Can we at least kill them so Vessel never suffers what I have?" III tries to bargain, grasping at any way to release their anger on those who hurt who they loved.

'There is no need. That will never happen to my First. Their killer is no longer of the human realm.'

"So they've died already?"

'Yes.'

"That's a relief, then." II says, turning to smile hesitantly at III, bond still a mess of anger and frustration.

"Yeah, Vessel doesn't need to suffer over something else from his past." III says, just as relieved.

If III could take back those words, knowing what is to come, then he would have in a heartbeat, would cut out their own tongue if it meant Vessel could be spared the pain soon to follow.

Sleep does not say anything further, does not spill the truths that his First has asked him to keep. Despite intending to keep the First's secrets, Sleep does not understand why the secrets need kept at all. Does not understand why Vessel refuses to tell the others what he does so that he can rest. The death is only temporary. With every blood offering Vessel gives Him, the easier it is to bring the First back from his death.

His First seems so sure they will leave him. That they will not choose to stay. Sleep is sure they will... but cannot be certain. His vessel has no heart in his chest, and human love, no matter how strong, can be torn away in the face of one's lack of understanding or compassion or a strong sense of morality. Sleep supposes he does understand, then, His First's worries. But Sleep chose these vessels for him, these vessels chose to live for as long as Sleep himself for Vessel.

"Two and I are offering our best selection of flowers, touched by Vessel's hand for longevity." III goes right into the worship they had also intended. "Oh, and this stone I found outside. It looks like a bit of meteorite, and reminded me of my devotion dream. The stars that were around me."

'I appreciate your offerings, my vessels. Truly. They are heartfelt, and so strengthen me. How are thingscomingalong with the musical aspects of your worship?'

II takes over the conversation, "Well, I think. The record label you influenced has given us a manager. We still need to come up with a name, though."

'I see. Decide quickly, Second. You may leave, if you wish. You'vedone well today.'

"Thank you, my God." II murmurs, bowing his head in reverence.

Despite their differences in opinion on how Sleep handles Vessel, II does love their God. Worships him the same as the other vessels. He will never agree with the God's indifference to the pains Vessel inflicts upon himself.

"Yes, thank you, Sleep." III adds as they, too, bow their head.

Sleep's presence brushes against their back, their marks tingling, and then He is gone.

"You didn't tell us about already having a manager! Sleep's right, we don't even have a name." III blurts, turning to II immediately.

II shrugs, sending down apologies, "Vessel will only freak out. He's nervous enough as it is with our new relationship. I planned on mentioning it when we picked a name."

"If you think that is what's best..." III says, "What about a guitarist?"

"I'm not sure. I was going to leave it to our manager, or put out an application or something. Its difficult because of what we are. I had been hoping for the Fourth to be with us by now, but that is not the case."

"Now that I think about it, how are we to work with anyone? We look... different."

"Masks on at all times, I'd assume. I don't think that's going to work well with anyone closely involved in the band though. Do you think we should call Sleep back?"

"Probably, but it can wait until tomorrow. We'll pick a name first, then worry about our image. Are we done here? I want to see Ves." III agrees, already moving to stand before they have even finished speaking.

II laughs, a sad, weak little thing, at the reminder of Vessel and their intentions with worship today after finding out how he had suffered. It is quick work putting out the remaining candles, III leaving the flowers on the offering plate.

II and III corner Vessel in his room, intending to cuddle him, as close as he allows anyway, for their own benefit. III crawls onto the bed and asks for kisses, eyes a little wet and bond a muddled mess as Vessel sets his book down at his bedside. II follows, slower, shutting the door softly behind him, watching the two as he makes his way to the bed. There are more books in here than before, definitely going over the limit II had set, stacks of them at the foot of the bed. There is one nearer to the door that is still askew, teetering dangerously as though it had been restacked with little care. Little flowers that II knows III had gifted Vessel sit in small glasses and vases, glowing gently, on every available surface of the room.

As III curls up at Vessel's side, his plushie acting as a barrier between them, III notices that the plague doctor has gained a new necklace. II sits at Vessel's other side gingerly, smiling when Vessel tries to scoot over so they all have room on the bed.

"That necklace is neat Ves, where'd you get it? I don't remember seeing it around."

Vessel is silent, hesitant to respond. III waits patiently for an answer, running a finger over one of the coins gently. "There was a stag in the forest today, a skeleton more like. It looked otherworldly, which I know it must have been since I've only ever seen it once, in Sleep's realm. Crimson moss in place of fur, mushrooms growing out between the ribs. It was larger than I was, with red vines and leaves twining through its antlers. It- Had no eyes. Just empty sockets in its bare skull. It was beautiful. A crow had startled me so I turned to look, then it dropped this necklace at my feet. The stag was gone when I turned back."

"If you saw it in Sleep's realm, how did it get here?" II asks, curious.

"I'm not sure... You believe me?" He asks, quiet and avoiding the gentle gazes resting on his form.

II leans forward and places a tender kiss to Vessel's brow, "Of course we believe you, Vessel. If you went out into town, came back, and told me the sky had turned neon green, I'd believe you. I'll always believe you."

"Besides Sugar, we're vessels to a God." III muses, "I can probably turn my whole body into something very much not human. You have six, beautiful eyes. Two is unusually strong for such a short man."

Without a thought, II reaches over and flicks III right between the eyes. III grabs ahold of II before the other can pull away, wrapping a long arm around his shoulder and pressing all their weight into him so they both go tumbling onto the bed. Vessel watches with wide eyes as III steals a kiss from II whose brows furrow. "You're never going to stop making jokes about my height, are you?" II huffs, and III laughs, whole body shaking.

"Never. Unless they actually hurt you, then I'll stop. Promise."

II eyes III with serious eyes for a moment, gaze falling to their lips briefly, "No, its fine. I don't actually mind all that much. I get my revenge eventually."

"Is it really revenge if I like it?" III jokes, eyes bright.

The tension in II and III's shoulders seemed to have slipped away, and Vessel was glad for it. He didn't mean to, but he made them worry. Their arguments never turn cruel or painful, and Vessel is continually surprised by it. By the playfulness that they are able to so easily fall into. Vessel wants that. Wants to be comfortable enough around them- Wants to trust them enough-

Vessel doesn't know how to let loose that way. His jokes always fall short, he's sure the others only laugh out of pity. When II and III danced in the kitchen, Vessel had wanted to join, even if he knows he would surely not be able to dance so freely as III did. He'd end up as stiff as II, Vessel thinks. He can't remember the last time he had danced or had fun with his body like that, simply moved our of enjoyment or because he felt a beat in his bones and had to move with it. The closest he had ever gotten was listening to II drum away at his kit to a song Vessel had written. The beat had reverberated through his bone marrow and Vessel had the strangest need to move with it. He did not.

Vessel is torn from his thoughts, eyes growing wider, as II reaches up and grabs III's hair, slowly tilting their head back. Just once, II tugs on III's hair with as much force as they'd already agreed on, "We're both supposed to like it, honey."

Using his strength to pull his body up, II kisses III then, claims III's mouth as his own at the same time he pulls just that little bit harder on III's hair. III moans, eyes fluttering as they struggle to watch II, feeling II's tongue slip into their mouth to tangle with their own.

Vessel can't tear his eyes away, feeling himself growing hard as he watches them. He doesn't know what to do with himself, and nervously picks dirt out from the underside of his nails to have some sort of release for the restless energy he can feel slowly building inside of him.

II pulls away, body dropping back down to the bed, cheeks and neck flushed red, lips swelled slightly from the ferocity of the kiss he'd just shared with III.

III moves to follow II down, to take II's lips again but II stops them with a simple command to wait. II turns his head to look at Vessel, taking in the light blush on his cheeks and the growing bulge in his pajama pants.

"To clarify before we start anything serious, are you okay with me watching?" II asks, searching Vessel's gaze and bond for any uncertainty.

He finds none as Vessel nods.

II's voice is so terribly gentle as he asks, "Use your words, pretty."

Vessel's blush gets more pink, gaze flitting away nervously before forcing himself to meet II's gaze. "Yes. That is fine."

"Sir." He adds, a little panicked.

"You don't need to use that name with me unless you want to. And I mean it, Vessel, only if you want to. Three is a little brat, and likes to taunt me with it. That is likely not going to be your intention, is it?"

Vessel would never dare taunt II- Could not even imagine-

Vessel shakes his head profusely, and II smiles reassuringly. He turns towards III, who has sat back on their heels to watch Vessel and II, head turning to stare at whoever is speaking almost comically. "You've been quiet, Three. Not plotting anything, are you?"

"No, sir. This is important. I'm being patient." III smirks, proud of themself.

"Good boy." II praises, smirking in return before turning once more to Vessel with a kinder look, "Have you ever had a blow job, my love? Or given one?"

Vessel shakes his head to the first, nodding to the second, adding on quietly with a grimace he tries to hide, "My girlfriends would use their hands to get me ready for them. Was that for the same purpose?"

"Probably, yes. Different parts need different prepping. By the look on your face, I take it they weren't very good at giving hand jobs." II frowns, but forced a smile on his face for Vessel's sake, "How would you feel about Three giving you a blow job?"

"Giving me...? Why?"

Its so damn endearing how Vessel tilts his head to the side, something he does so often, but the confusion that seems ever present when they talk about anything sexual is saddening.

"I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?" III practically begs when Vessel's bond does not dip toward negativity at II's question.

"Think it over, sweetheart. Is it something you want to experience?" II urges Vessel to think it over, and he just grows more confused.

Vessel can only think of how it felt to take a cock in his mouth, the way his jaw had ached painfully for days, his throat bruised from the inside, how he couldn't breathe. The first time Vessel had taken a cock in his mouth, he shoved away, even with the hand still gripping his hair, no matter how it hurt and tore strands free, just to get away in time to puke at his side. He had not been given time to wipe away the vomit from his mouth before his boyfriend had pulled him back by his hair.

'Fucking look at me. God, you can't even do this right? Seriously, ___? You'd better learn fucking fast, fucking crybaby. If you don't want me to fuck you every time, the least you can do is learn to do this properly.'

Vessel couldn't have seen him through his tears as he shoved him to the ground, finally letting go of his hair. Vessel was ordered to go brush his teeth and be back at his boyfriends side quickly, or he would get angry. Vessel hated when his boyfriend was angry. Wanted to please him so he'd be kinder, gentle like he used to be. Vessel had choked on the toothpaste, too, scalp and knees aching as he retched into the sink, sobbing as quietly as he could manage at the time.

Why would III willingly want to experience something like that?

"I promise I'll make you feel good. Whatever experience you had with it before, I'm going to replace it with something better, I promise."

Vessel wants to believe III. He really, really does. III had made him feel things Vessel did not even know were possible, made him feel pleasure. So he nods, slow and hesitant.

"Your agreement in words, Ves, if you can." II requests, and Vessel does as asked only marginally less hesitant.

"Vessel will want to keep his shirt on, sir. Can I- Undress him?" III asserts, crawling closer to where Vessel leans against the headboard.

Vessel cannot stop his eyebrows from lifting in surprise as III makes a request for Vessel's own continued comfort, finding himself touched. Strangely, being considered makes him grow harder, to his own embarrassment.

"I am fine with it if Vessel is."

III turns to Vessel eagerly, trying their hardest to stay quiet and still, to let Vessel decide on his own, but the bond is rife with their anticipation. III has already seen him before, so Vessel nods easily, despite his worry over what is to come.

III closes the small distance between them, very gently pulling Vessel's legs so they're laid straight down the bed. There is indecision through the bond as III tries to figure out how he wants to go about getting Vessel undressed. They want to straddle Vessel, to see him under them as they take off his clothes, yet knows it is not likely to be easy that way. III finds he doesn't care when he glances up from inspecting Vessel's body to find Vessel watching him, all six crimson eyes attuned to every move III makes. III finally just reaches forward, kneeling on the bed at Vessel's feet.

His hands come to rest on Vessel's hips, barely brushing the fabric there as III comes to rest their knees on either side of Vessel's own. "Is this okay?" III asks, watching Vessel for any signs of distress.

Vessel nods, murmuring a yes. The action causes III to glance down at Vessel's lips, finding himself staring without a care for what he was just doing.

"Kiss?" III whispers, leaning in close as they finally press their hands to Vessel's waist, thumbs slipping into the waistband.

Vessel nods again, anticipation making his eyes bright. III leans over Vessel, pressing their lips together and slipping their tongue in to tangle with Vessel's own. III starts slowly sliding Vessel's pajamas down his waist, purposefully not dragging his underwear down as well. Vessel's split tongue slides against III's, and for a moment, III wonders what it would feel like for his tongue to be on III's cock and he moans into the kiss at the image. Surprise flits down the bond at the sound, and somewhere beside them II lets out a short laugh.

Vessel has grown increasingly harder with every gentle touch, with every second III's mouth remains on his. His underwear is growing increasingly tighter as his bulge grows, the friction it causes only making Vessel feel worse. Or better, to be more precise.

III only breaks away from the kiss to slowly slip Vessel's pajama pants down and off his legs, leaving him in only a shirt and boxers. He does not do so quickly, they take their time. They sit and watch as more and more of Vessel's skin is revealed, cannot stop themselves from tracing one of the tendrils of ink crawling their way up Vessel's thigh, as though reaching for the bandages still wrapped there. The gentle touch causes Vessel to shudder as tingles spread through him.

Vessel's underwear comes off next as II slowly slides one hand down his sweatpants, starting to slowly stroke himself with the limited movement his hand is allowed. Vessel's cock is leaking pre-cum when III manages to get his boxers off, stopping at the sight of it before he can get his underwear even halfway down Vessel's thighs.

The sight makes their mouth water, just imagining taking that large cock in their mouth or ass. Fuck, the stretch would be delicious.

"Finish getting him undressed, Three. You don't want to keep him waiting, do you?" II orders, leaning on his side with his head propped up on a hand so he can watch III when they inevitably start.

III refrains from taking Vessel's dick in their mouth right then, letting out a whine of impatience as Vessel watches with wide eyes, a deep blush overtaking his face and traveling up to his ears. They're quicker about getting Vessel's underwear off, then, dropping them off to the side of the bed with his pajamas.

It is quick work getting Vessel's legs bent and spread before him. III stops to take Vessel in with his hands on the others hips, the blush over his cheeks and cock hard, leaking pre cum from the tip. His shirt is slightly askew, lips swollen from all the kissing the other two had subjected him to, and he is staring at III with half-lidded eyes. III wants nothing more than to take a photo to capture Vessel's divine beauty.

A hand slides up from Vessel's hip to his stomach, taking his shirt with him. III's hand deliberately does not go even close to his sternum, keeping to Vessel's only rule. III lets their hand rest there, splayed over Vessel's stomach and feeling the barest hint of abs beginning to form.

"Such a pretty thing." III croons, "My pretty boy."

Vessel's blush gets deeper, one hand coming up to try and hide his face in bashfulness.

III moves up enough to stare in one pair of Vessel's eyes, taking the hand from his face gently, before planting a kiss over each of his six eyelid's. III peppers kisses all over Vessel's face, every one as worshipping as the last. They move to Vessel's jaw, placing a kiss on the right side before moving down to the exposed skin of Vessel's stomach.

Vessel's breaths get shorter, harsher, as III kisses down to his bellybutton and then lower, nuzzling into the pubic hair there before a long stripe is licked up Vessel's shaft. He lets out a whine, hips just barely bucking up as though he couldn't stop himself.

"Want it really bad, don't you, my love? Don't worry, I'm going to make you feel good."

III gives no other warning except for a small lick at Vessel's tip before opening their mouth wide, flattening their tongue, and taking Vessel's cock in their mouth as far as it will go. It is not an easy fit, III taking short, measured breaths in as he slowly swallows more and more of Vessel's dick.

Vessel can do nothing but watch, utterly entranced, at the sight of III taking him in with tears beading at the corners of their soft, mischievous eyes. It bumps against the back of III's throat, but III doesn't gag or show any signs of discomfort except for the involuntary tears. Their bond remains painless, happy even, as III sinks their mouth down further.

Vessel can't quite think of much outside of the warm, wet heat of III's mouth around him. This is what it feels like to be given a blow job? Fuck, it felt divine.

III does not allow Vessel a moment to breath, hollowing their cheeks and sucking while their tongue presses flat to the underside of Vessel's dick. Swirling their tongue around the shaft shoots more pleasure down the bond and Vessel's cock twitches in III's mouth.

Then III lets out an intentional moan, a low thing that grows in sound and the vibrations bring Vessel very close to the edge.

"Can you take him deeper, Three?" II asks, smirking as he runs a thumb over his tip, enjoying the show.

III hums out an attempt at an agreement that makes Vessel's head tilt back into the pillows involuntarily with a breathy little keen. He is quick to move his gaze back down to III, selfishly enjoying the sight of their pretty lips around Vessel's cock, taking him in so well. III looks beautiful like this, Vessel thinks, reaching down hesitantly to brush a stray strand of wavy hair behind III's ear as they take more of him down his throat.

Two pairs of Vessel's eyes remain on III, capturing every movement with ease, while the top pair watches II slowly jerk himself off, off to the side.

A swirl of III's tongue spurs a small whimper out of Vessel, eyes clenching shut at the pleasure coursing through him. He feels close to cumming, body alight with the ecstasy III's mouth is giving him.

Vessel's eyes shoot open when he feels movement on the bed, II crawling towards him with intense eyes. He stops directly at Vessel's side, kneeling on both knees before reaching out and cupping Vessel's face. Vessel leans into the touch, "Cum for Three, love."

Vessel does, hips bucking up into III's face as the other gently holds them to keep Vessel still as they swallow the cum spilling down their throat. III ruts into the bed, cock craving friction as Vessel's release spills over their bonds, too. His eyes glow brightly, like bloody moons in a night sky, and II's voice is firmer than intended when he asks Vessel to look at him, taken with the beauty of finally being able to watch Vessel cum with his own eyes. That, perhaps, was his mistake.

III is already pulling away when the first tremor of terror rocks down the bond between the three of them, eyes wide as Vessel completely stops moving.

"Red." II blurts before falling into a mutter, "Shit, shit, shit. "

He pulls his hands away from Vessel, afraid the touch will make him panic more. II isn't sure if it was something he did, or said, or if it was something III did.

Vessel can't breathe. Can't hear anything. Not past the voice in his ears, demanding he look at them and to stop fucking crying. Can't feel anything but the hand pressing painfully into his jaw, unkempt nails digging into his face and the smell of minty breathe in his nostrils.

Somewhere inside Vessel knows what II has said, has done, is not the same. Vessel feels terrible for ruining everything, trying to keep from crying as III pulls away and II stops touching him. He wants their hands back on him, the only kinds hands that have ever graced his skin.

"Ves, sweetheart, are you okay?" II asks, and the pure concern in his voice causes Vessel to let out a sob as silent as any other he's ever released.

The lack of touch only makes him feel worse, and he wants to beg, plead for them to hold his hand, or go ahead and hit him for being so pathetic just to feel the touch of their skin on his. He just wants to feel them again, when he needs it. Instead all he can do is lay over on his side, struggling to breathe with aching lungs, choking on the words he wants to say but is too afraid to let out.

His breaths come out in shorter and shorter pants, arms wrapping around himself as he brings his knees up to his chest. He looks small, II thinks, curling in on himself on the bed as if he could become one with the sheets and disappear completely if he tried hard enough.

Gold leaks from his eyes, clenched shut tightly. Vessel feels alone, even if the other two are right there beside him. They feel too far away, not close enough. He wants them near. He wants them to hold him. Vessel wants their gentle hands to brush his skin again just so he can force his mind away from the feeling of other hands on him, other, rougher hands pulling his face up with a bruising grip, straining his neck, demanding he look at them-

Please, please, touch me, hurt me, anything, please-

Vessel thinks that if words could be sent down the bond, his thoughts would have been shouted down the tether connecting their souls.

II must take pity on him and his pathetic form, staining the sheets with gold as he sobs silently.

"Is it alright if I touch you, Vessel? Just my hand, if that's alright, sweetheart."

Vessel nods so fast he gets dizzy, trying his damndest not to reach forward and crawl into II's lap, desperate as he is for them to show him the kindness he craves but does not deserve.

"Please." Vessel begs with every bit of desperation in his blood, fingers twitching with want.

III shakes, still half-hard and struggling to shove away the tingles of pleasure still coursing through them, longing to hold Vessel so badly it hurts. Not being able to hold Vessel, at the mans own request, has to be the worst torture III has ever faced and he was beaten and murdered for fucks sake. They want to reach for Vessel, too, to take his hand and run a soothing thumb over his knuckles just as II is doing, but Vessel's bond is just so overwhelmed with emotion, III fears he'll make it worse.

Anxiety and terror and the thick tar of being lost in one's mind that is filled with bad memories are all swarming Vessel's bond, fighting over which will cover the tether thickest.

"Don't leave, don't leave, please, please don't leave." Vessel mutters repeatedly, so quiet the other two vessels can barely make out what he is saying.

When they do manage to decipher it, it breaks their hearts. "Not going anywhere, my love." III says, watching helplessly.

They take Vessel's hand in their own when they notice him reaching out, only to pull back, then reach forward again. He can tell what Vessel wants but will not ask for.

II and III feel a little helpless as they watch Vessel's chest hitch with sobs that make no noise, face turned away into the pillow to hide. His trembling does not cease for what seems like eternity, squeezing II and III's hands tightly. It surely must be uncomfortable, to still hold their hands and yet be curled up, arms needing to stretch to reach. III uses his available hand to pick up Vessel's plushie, placing it under his chin. Vessel immediately tries to hide his face in it instead of the pillows. It takes time for his sobs to lessen then peter out entirely, breathing becoming less erratic, but still heavy. His mutters begins them not to leave have continued, but the vacancy in his eyes has cleared with the end of his sobbing.

"What happened, Ves? Was it something we said, or did?" II asks, so gentle, always so, so gentle.

"He used to grab my jaw when I couldn't meet his eyes. Jerked me around by my chin with a bruising grip." Vessel mutters, "Wasn't good enough. Have never been good enough. Not for anyone."

"Fuck, I'm sorry Vessel, I didn't know. I won't do it again." II looks so defeated as he says it, leaning into III as they continue holding one of Vessel's hands each.

Vessel scrambles to fix what he's done, needs II to know it wasn't his fault. "No, no, please, Two... you've asked me to look at you before and it didn't bother me! I promise. I think..." Vessel starts, stumbling over his words as more tears slip down the side of his face, "You've cupped my face before, too. It may have been the situation. I- This scenario was familiar enough. I was just never on the receiving end."

It feels strange for Vessel to be the one rationalizing what happened, when usually its the other two trying to reassure him, but his heart is so disconnected from anything sexual that his mind can see what has happened far easier.

"I liked it when you held my face, carefully like I was worth something. I liked what Three was doing, liked you watching. I've never- I didn't know that's what a blow job was supposed to feel like for the person on the receiving end. Suppose I was shit at giving them, Before." Vessel huffs out a humorless laugh, sitting up and wiping away tears.

Vessel hates the looks on their faces, not quite pitying but so distraught, and Vessel did that to them. He's the reason they look like that, all because he couldn't keep in control of the bond well enough to cover up what had happened. And then they'd shown him concern, and he'd crumbled.

Vessel forces his body to relax completely. Forces his muscles to finish untensing, shoves more calm down the bond, forces himself to meet II's eyes, to look at him like he had asked for. They'll be pleased with him when they finish here, Vessel is sure. Maybe they won't look so upset if Vessel offers up his body once more.

"I'm ready to continue with whatever else you wish. I feel better now." Vessel murmurs as he sits up, steeling himself for how he's going to have to fake his interest in the sex.

No matter how good it had felt, Vessel is exhausted. He wants to lay down and beg for sleep that will not come.

"No, it's alright. We'll continue this another time." II says, and III nods along easily, concerned.

"I- I do not mind." Vessel tries, desperate, gripping the sheets tightly to stop himself from reaching out to III, who gets off the bed to collect the damp rag they'd set aside.

He doesn't want them to be disappointed, knowing he is the cause.

"Sweetheart, you just had a panic attack. Neither I nor Three mind continuing whenever you're ready, but I don't think that time is now." II refuses gently, reaching out and adjusting Vessel's shirt so that it sits properly on his body, no longer crumpled haphazardly.

"It's happened before. It- It doesn't matter. I can continue. I know I can." Vessel insists, but II's expression remains firm.

"No, Vessel. You're still shaking."

"I'm- No, I'm not." Vessel holds tighter to the sheets, fabric beginning to tear under the force of his claws, trying in vain to still his body.

"I don't want to continue anyway. I kinda want to go watch a show, why don't we do that instead?" III offers, climbing back into bed with the rag in hand.

Vessel levels suspicious, guilty eyes on III but their bond remains truthful, calm. II sends III a grateful look that Vessel misses while trying to probe III's bond for any sort of lie.

"I'm down for that, honey. How about you Vessel?" II agrees, gently wiping Vessel's cock off.

Vessel sits there, trembling, still fighting valiantly to keep any more tears from falling, and nods imperceptibly.

"You're not in trouble, Vessel. No one is upset with you. We're concerned, and so we're going to take care of you." II explains, helping Vessel slip his underwear back on, then his pajama pants.

Vessel feels a little like he is being coddled. Still, he thinks back to what II and III had said to him before. They say they love him. They... get angry on his behalf. They do not yell at him, they do not hit him. They kiss Vessel like he is something to be adored... Vessel's mind is a muddled mess of thoughts as his present fights with his past over the truth of their words.

Vessel lets them coddle him. Breathes out a shaky, but truthful 'yes' when II asks to kiss him. Leans into II's lips on his, does not expect anything further when II slowly slides his hand onto Vessel's thigh, where it sits, merely laying there.

III hops out of bed first, picking up all of their phones and holding them in one large hand, fingers bent in what is surely awkward positioning. They watch as II and Vessel kiss, a slow, languid movement of lips as II sends down every ounce of love his body possesses towards Vessel's bond. There's a spark of recognition on Vessel's end, a small thing, and III hopes it is Vessel beginning to realize that it is their love for him.

Vessel knows they do not love him, not the way he loves them. If they love him at all, it is the version of himself he has allowed them to see. It is the version of himself that hides his lack of heart, hides his desire for death. A version of himself close enough to his core that they think they know him, truly.

If they think him pitiable now, they know nothing of what is to come should they ever find out all of Vessel's hidden truths.

The spark dies, and whatever realization Vessel had been having slips away to be replaced by his crushing self-doubt and anxiety and aching, bone-deep pain.

II pulls away slowly, ever so gently resting his forehead on Vessel's. "I love you." He murmurs, pressing a chaste but tender kiss to Vessel's lips again.

The smile Vessel shows them is twinged with uncertainty, but he repeats the phrase back with every ounce of love in his soul, because he means it. He loves II. He loves III.

"Here, Ves." III calls, holding out Vessel's plushie as he and II climb out of Vessel's bed.

Vessel reaches out and grabs it without hesitation, holding it close to his chest with both arms. "Here, for if you get cold. Your hands and feet are always freezing." III says again as he wraps a large blanket around Vessel's shoulders, pulling a large bit of the fabric over Vessel's head as though he were wearing a hooded robe. Vessel lets II lead him out of his room and down the stairs while III goes to brush his teeth quickly.

Their hands shake as they do so, taking a deep, deep breath in and releasing it before stepping back into the hallway. Elvira waits for him, tail flicking back and forth as she sits regally.

"Hey, pretty kitty, going to come hang with us? Vessel could use the support right now." III says quietly, crouching down to pet her.

She rubs into his hand as he scratches her head, petting a line down her spine and up her tail that she leans up into. Elvira follows him back to the living room, hopping up on the couch beside II.

"Lay your head in my lap, sweetheart." II offers, patting his thigh invitingly as Vessel flounders on what to do with his body, more anxious than usual.

III starts up the TV as Vessel very carefully lays down on the couch, scrunched up as small as possible, placing his head on II's warm thigh. It's familiar, and comforting. Vessel realizes it has been a while since either he or II laid their head on the others thigh. III picks up Vessel's feet, placing them back down on III's own thighs after they sit. One hand remains on Vessel's sock-clad ankle as III settles back into the cushions, scrolling through an anime app.

Vessel listens as II and III debate over what to watch. When they ask his opinion, Vessel is honest, more forthcoming than he should be. He wants them to know him, as much of himself as he can bare. "Wasn't allowed to watch anything that wasn't a documentary. Or read anything other than educational books."

"Well, you can read and watch whatever you want here, Sugar. Let's watch Fairy Tail then, it's a good starter anime, despite its length." III says, knowing he and II will need to talk with each other, and Vessel, about it eventually.

It must have been his parents, III notes. They're not sure who is higher on his shit list, Vessel's parents or his past partners. Right now, Vessel's parents are at the top of the list, III decides, watching Vessel with an adoring smile. Vessel's book and movie choices so far have been explained. To think they wouldn't let him watch or read anything fun. It explains why Vessel never knew anything about video games, or any of the movies they had watched previously. They'll have to compile a list of their and II's favorites to show him.

Observing Vessel as he watches the show with rapt attention, body slowly losing the tremble, one hand coming to grasp II's by the shorter man's knee, III considers Sleep's words from when they had last spoken with the God, slowly trailing their fingers over Vessel's calf and back down to his ankle rhythmically.

Sleep had said that Vessel's killer had already passed on. III can't help but wonder how.

It's of no matter now though. As long as Vessel remains safe from that threat, III is content. He supposes getting a hang of his transformation power would be useful for the future. They'll have to speak with II about it, since they already intended to work on their gifts together. Maybe they can rope Vessel into it as well, though it doesn't seem as though the other needs it.

III turns his gaze back to the show, one hand slowly crossing the space between them to rest at II's side, just barely touching him as III's arm lays gently over Vessel's form. Vessel huffs out a laugh, pretty ruby eyes sparkling as he finds enjoyment in one of the characters penchant for taking off his clothes subconsciously. III adores him, they think, as their gaze slides over to II who is also watching the show with tired, but interested eyes. III adores both of them.

#sleep token fanfiction #sleep token #vessel sleep token #ii sleep token #polyvessels #sleep token fic #sleep token iii #poly sleep token

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triplesilverstar · 6 months

Text

A rather smelly Stampede

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Pre-Canon, Established Relationship, Canon typical violence, fluff and humor, domestic fluff, bathtubs, massage, Vash really does have bad luck

Word count: Roughly 4.3K

A/N: When you and Vash had rolled into town you just wanted to get into the room and sleep. Not be dragged along to help him repair a plant and then have some bandits show up trying to steal one. At the end of the day you regret having to deal with one smelly Stampede. This one came about because as someone pointed out there aren’t a lot of care fics for Vash.

“I don’t like this plan” Vash’s voice is registering high enough that you’re certain the dog barking outside the hotel can hear the whine in his voice.

“Well the other option is we do this outside, which I think will be worse for you.” Snorting as you keep back from him just enough to ensure you don’t touch your boyfriend who’s currently covered in a gelatinous mess of Toma feed, rotten food, engine oil, and who knows what else. “Just strip and get in the shower and leave your clothes by the door.” Looking back, what led to this moment had been kind of funny.

“You said the red cable!” Yelling out from under the raised platform of the plant container, on your back jammed into the small space.

“No I said the red and black cable” Vash is calling out to you from the control panel, even though he can’t see you, you mock his words feeling your body shake. “Come on Mayfly, I thought you said you’d help me with this.”

“Yes help! Not be wedged underneath part of a plant container while you yell at me to plug and unplug cables. I mean this whole plant engineer thing is very much your thing , mine is catching criminals.” You and Vash upon arriving in the town and after having gone into the hotel heard of the town problems, one of the plants had been having issues, and Vash being Vash volunteered to check it out. Arrangements were made and the mayor brought you and Vash to the station and you could tell Vash was concerned about one of his sisters.

The mayor had been suspicious at first but once the two of you started working the man relaxed to the point he seemed more than excited to have both of you there. And well, the mayor didn’t know about the connection between Vash and the biology energy generators known as plants, aka Vash was one. And he seemed to be content to leave both of you alone as once it was confirmed Vash did indeed know how to fix them, and you weren’t actually there to try and steal it. “I’m not yelling at you, but I need you to be careful while we reset the system.”

“It feels like you’re yelling at me, I'm not good at this!” This time as you undid the cable you were being admonished “cables unplugged!”

“Now unplug the blue one and connect it to the red and black one” moving a few items out of the way you see the cable he means coming up from the floor and connected to the panel under the plant. Unplugging it and waiting to see if a voice is going to call out to you, at nothing you plug them together.

“Done. What now?” You have to admit for how long you’ve been on your back you’re starting to get sore, the metal digging into your shoulder isn’t helping either.

“You can crawl out for now, I think that should be it.” Rolling your eyes, and trying to not be caught up in the cables you start to slide out, wiggling and shifting as you go. Once out you sit up, turning towards where Vash is typing away on the panel. You do have to admit he does look pretty cute with the way he’s staring at the screen, fingers tapping away at the keyboard, eyes focused and brow furrowed.

“So, things are going good then?” This time he’s the one rolling his eyes, fingers typing something quickly before hitting the command key.

“That should do it” rolling his shoulders and turning towards you as you grab your rifle from where it was propped up against the console beside him and sling it across your shoulder.

“So no more crawling under panels for me?” A laugh from him and a soft smile, yea he is way too cute when he smiles like that. True to the fashion of your life with Vash, something goes wrong. In the form of an explosion near the entrance to the station “that never bodes well” you deadpan.

Vash locks out the control panel, you aren’t sure why but you know he wouldn’t do it if he didn’t have a reason to. Both of you nodding to one another before running towards the entrance. And running into bandits. It’s a short exchange where you and Vash are able to at least get them from heading inside and stealing a plant, as for some of them one look at you and they bolted.

Most of them caught by surprise they’d been easy to deal with, at least for you and Vash, all but two of them tied up and left for the sheriff to find. Then you were off after the two that were running away, ending up near the waste facilities of the town. One of the goons deciding to rip pieces of the facility away to throw them at you, the other cackling and edging them on.

“Oh shit” shouting as you dodge one piece, right into the path of a length of pipe coming right towards you.

“Snipes!” If the pipe had hit you, it would have been right through your stomach, the jagged edges no doubt ripping through the muscles of your flesh and possibly your spine. Yea that would have been a bitch to heal if you even could heal it. Instead, you were blessed by the form of a red clothed Vash tackling you to the ground, covering his body with yours.

A barrage of bullets suddenly raining down on both of your prone forms “Ya know, I really want to know how we’re going to fight back right now.” You snarl at the blond above you who seems intent on being a shield for your body.

“Maybe we can talk this out?” You really want to smack him with that chuckle that he lets out, yup that’s a solution, talk with the two bandits that came to steal a plant and were shooting at both of you.

“Oh yea? Well you can talk but I think they have something else in mind.” Screw a canteen, there’s enough venom in your voice to fill a bucket. Trying to look up to see the bandits, the chest pressed above the back of your head making it a little difficult. “Ah shit!”

“Huh?” While you could sort of see, Vash could not and ended up being plowed off your body by the larger bandit ramming into him. More than likely trying to take you with him as well, clearly having underestimated your ability to stick to the floor when you wanted. With the speed that bandit had rammed into Vash at, you watched in almost slow motion as the momentum carried both of them to the edge of the garbage vat, and over. Into the grim below.

Wincing for your boyfriend you turned back to the remaining bandit who was looking absolutely flabbergasted that his cohort had done that to himself. Taking advantage you lunged towards him, legs burning as your pushed yourself to the limit of your running speed, swiftly grabbing his revolver and holding the cylinder so it couldn’t spin and punching him in the solar plex watching as he crumbled in front of you. Just in time for you to notice the local law enforcement show up, handing this bandit off to them before walking towards the garbage vat.

Greeted by the view of a sludge covered Vash and bandit, at least Vash doesn’t look to be as badly covered as the bandit that is being dragged out of the garbage while Vash is just standing there, trying to keep his prosthetic out of the gunk. Even from here you feel like barfing at the stench wafting from the thing, how the hell can Vash stand down in it.

Making your way to where the bandit is being lifted out you see the mayor standing there fretting, at the sight of you rushing over and thanking you and Vash for fixing the plant and stopping the attempted theft of any of the biological generators. Noticing Vash being pulled out you step away from the mayor, people pleasing was more Vash’s thing you still weren’t all that good with people. No matter how much the blond nagged at you about it, people just weren’t your forte unless you were one on one with them for a while. Well unless you were pointing the rifle at them.

The second the blond’s feet are on the ground and you’re within 3 feet of him you stop, if you thought the smell was bad before your nostril hairs feel like they’re burning now. It’s taking all your control to not empty the contents of your stomach on the ground in front of you. “You smell foul!” Pinching your nose and trying to not gag, while Vash’s entire demeanor seems to crumple in on himself and a part of you feels horrible.

Seeming to notice the discomfort the Mayor was quick to offer up a hotel room for the two of you that had a bathroom attached as a sort of payment for your assistance. Keeping enough of a distance and trying to stay upwind of him, once back in the hotel it was a flurry of activity. Workers moving your items from your old room and being brought up to the room. The words room not really doing it justice, it seems ornate and the only thing you can think is this must be a room used for when VIPs of some sort come to visit.

Vash stalking for the bathroom the moment it was pointed out to him while you take in the room, and the giant king sized bed. Oh that is going to be nice to sleep on later, the mayor and innkeeper and both chatting away, turning to ask them to leave you find the innkeeper shoving a basket full of cleaning products, some of which you had no idea what to do with into your arms.

Which brings you back to the present, standing outside the bathroom door, waiting for your very smelly boyfriend to strip.

At the sound of him shucking his clothes you remove some of your own as well, leaving your jacket hanging on the coat rack near the door. “Mayfly?” muffled through the door you call out an answer. “Even my underwear is drenched in this stuff.” Snickering, at his discomfort, the mayor had told the hotel to let you use their washer and dryer to make sure the smell was gone from his clothes. Wedging the door open and grabbing the pile of clothes, doing your best to keep any of the goop from touching your own clothes and skin.

“Gross” breathing through your mouth you still want to gag, being careful with the noxious load as you get to the area the Innkeeper had showed you, his clothes tossed in and the wash cycle started, all the while wondering just how well off the owners of this hotel are to have such a nice machine like this, far more used to hand washing your clothes and leaving them to air dry. Returning to the room you notice your shirt was not spared from the disaster and strip it off before heading into the bathroom.

You whistle, finally getting a good view of the bathroom noticing a stand up shower and a bathtub. Damn. Vash is still in the shower trying to get some of the sludge off his body “How you doing Sunshine?”

A yelp from the shower and a few thuds of things being dropped, after a few moments his voice calling out like a squeaky toy. “I still smell that stuff everywhere.” Looking at the bathtub you get an idea.

“What if I helped you wash yourself?” It makes sense in your mind, you’d be able to get a good lather going and hopefully get him cleaned otherwise you might not want to cuddle with your lover tonight. At the sound of the taps turning off, a sopping wet head appears making your heart stutter in your chest. He just looks so soft.

“How?” Some of the water is dripping from his hair down onto his face and making you smile. Not just because of his hair but the fact he’s trying to keep his body hidden from sight. It’s only been a recent development for him to let you see him naked, he’s still nervous in regards to taking your physical relationship to the next level. Yet he still has no issue letting you give him either a blow or hand job with his pants still on.

“You sit in the tub here and I’ll scrub that pretty little head of yours of course, and well anything else” you shrug your shoulders before heading back to the room and grabbing the basket. You might not know what a lot of the products are but you see some salt scrubs and bath oils, those might help.

“Anything?” You snort, of course he’d be getting cheeky now that the two of you are alone.

“Yea but it’s to get the smell off your body so you might want to think that one over” teasing him right back you start running the bath water. Opening the bottle of oil and being hit by the smell of vanilla. That takes you back. Tipping the bottle over and letting a few drops fall into the water.

“Where’s your shirt?” Oh right. You’d sort of forgotten you’d taken it off, turning back towards him and his eyes focused on your fabric encased chest that gives him a nice view of the swell of your breasts.

“Get your head out of the gutter and get in here! And my shirt is in the damn room. It didn’t survive its run in with your clothes.” A whine resounds from somewhere deep in his throat as you watch him step from the shower hand over his crotch and you have to grin. Clearly your words have caused an effect, but with his current predicament you decide to not draw attention to it. “Here, hopefully the waters not too hot.” The tub also isn’t a normal tub, it’s nearly twice the size meaning both of you could lay down in it if you want. An idea you tuck away for tomorrow possibly.

“It’s not too hot” he still seems tense and hunches in on himself as you lean over him taking a whiff of his hair and reeling back. It smells better but not by much, not by much at all.

“We need to wash your hair before we do anything else, Vash.” Another whine as he turns to look at you and trying to give you an expression you can only describe as puppy eyes. “Vash, don’t be like that. I promise you’ll enjoy it.” As the water in the tub keeps rising you look around, not that you’ll complain if you have to sit on your knees to help him but a stool or something would be nice.

And sure enough in the corner is a small stool, it makes you think of a kids one as you grab it and return to the tub grabbing the shampoo bottle that had been in the basket. Opening the lid and taking a sniff, hit once more by the smell of vanilla. Stool behind Vash, but before you sit down Vash is still looking at you like you're going to hold him down and do something terrible to him. “Vash you just smell, I'm not going to hurt you or anything.”

His shoulders are still around his ears and he ends up muttering so low you have to ask him to repeat it. “I just don’t want you seeing my scars in this much light.”

You feel your smile grow, placing a hand along his jaw and trailing it along the edges “I don’t care about them right now, I care about you not being a smelly Stampede baby.” His face is warm under your skin, the blush creeping up his neck as he turns away from your hand and quickly dunking his head under the water.

“Let’s get this over with please” his voice is so low and wretched it almost hurts your heart, sitting on the stool and working a lather of suds on your hands before starting to work your hands through his hair.

Being as careful as you can, you get to work grinning at the noise he makes as you start to work the shampoo into his roots, digging your nails in lightly against his skull. Watching as the tension in his shoulders starts to melt away. “See this isn’t too bad” you have to admit, this is rather enjoyable, sitting there with him and taking care of him. The longer you work away the grim and knots in his hair the more he seems to sink into the water, relaxing.

“I think this is making me think I like playing with your hair” you laugh, taking your time with the soapy strands, letting them slowly run through your fingers. Watching the light shine through the blond locks, and it was doing something funny to your heart.

“I like how it feels” his voice is so soft and it breaks you from the daze you’d been in, getting closer to him and taking a sniff of his hair.

“At least it doesn’t smell horrendous now.” As you drag your nails along the crown of his head, a noise of satisfaction passing his lips. “Want to dunk under so we can rinse the soap out?” He does and as the water engulfs his head you ruffle your fingers through the thick mane hoping it gets all the soap out.

Coming back to the surface you’re happy to see most of the suds gone, the only residue left trailing down his undercut. Using a hand to scoop some of the water up and drop it away. Taking advantage to press your palms and fingers into the meat of his neck working through the tension sitting along there. “Any other parts of you that need a good scrubbing?” You are genuinely curious since if he had that much trouble with his hair, were there other parts of him that he hadn’t been able to properly clean.

“Well” at the teasing in his words you slap his shoulder, able to see from the reflection of the water his eyebrows waggle.

“Not there! Sheesh Vash, what happened to the bashful disaster I met a few years ago?” Suds all removed you smile, looking down at his shoulders in all their damaged glory.

“Well, I started dating this bounty hunter who happens to be a terrible influence” he’s leaning back, waiting to catch your eye trying to be serious. Once he does meet your gaze he can’t keep the grin from spreading across his cheeks. “But in all seriousness, could you do my back?”

“Of course I can Sunshine” standing up and heading for the pile of towels and washcloths you grab one of the smaller ones which is thankfully soft, wondering if the Mayor realized just how much of luxury this was . Soap and cloth in hand, you return to your boyfriend sitting in the tub, working up a thick lather before taking it to his skin. Watching him flinch, even if he was expecting it, when the cloth presses to the nape of his neck.

Taking care to use just enough pressure to clean his skin, working the cloth gently across, extra care given as you drift over the scarred skin. A masterpiece of patchwork skin and metal keeping him together, each part cleaned like he’s a priceless work of art. “You don’t have to be that gentle ya know?” his voice has that wistful note you know has to do with his self depreciation.

“Yes I do.” Quick to shut him down as you rub the soap over the cloth again “for once Vash, let's not get into it about how you feel about your scars. Just let me take care of you, I'm not always good with words, so let me show you” that seems to have done the trick getting him to shut his mouth as you continue your gentle actions against his back. As you reach lower and press against one of the small metal plates near his spine and watch him shiver.

“Sorry babe” you whisper into his ear, starting to make wider passes just above the water line of the tub. Catching on one of the lines of metal wires along next to his spine, and hearing him hiss from the cloth pulling on his skin. “Damnit, I really didn’t mean to do that baby” you whisper in his ear gently removing the fibers hooked on the edge.

Surprised when one of his hands reaches up behind him to reach for you, allowing the cloth to fall into the darkening water and grasping his hand and intertwining your fingers. “It’s fine, Mayfly.” A turn of his head and you lean closer to press your forehead against his, letting your eyes slide shut. After a few moments you feel his warm breath fan across your face “the water is starting to feel cool.”

Keeping your eyes closed you grin “I guess you should rinse off, and we can drain the tub. And refill it if you’re still smelly.” A quick response of hey and you're laughing, before you feel him laughing along with you.

Releasing his hand you lean back, and watch as he sinks under the water to remove the suds from his skin. When he comes back up, you smirk, darting your head forward to stick your nose into the crook of his neck and taking a deep inhale. While you’re first hit with the smell of Vanilla, your nostrils are then filled with a smell you know is Vash all by himself. “Do I still smell?”

“Nope.” Grinning and pressing a quick kiss to his skin “no more smelly Stampede.” Sliding back on the stool and standing, rolling your shoulder. “I’ll leave you to get dried off, but I’d prefer if you came out with only a towel on.” Spinning back around and raising your eyebrows at him “I might have an idea for after you come out.” You don’t give him a chance to react, grabbing a jar of lotion from the basket and skipping out of the room.

Hearing the water drain you laugh tucking your fingers under your nose to try and keep your giggles from being too loud. Even if he had been pretty smelly, and maybe the exhaustion from the day is catching up to you, but you are feeling pretty giddy at the moment. Cracking the jar and unsurprisingly the smell of vanilla coming from the opening once more.

It’s not long before Vash appears, a towel around his neck and one around his waist. Right. Clothes. You could have at least pulled some underwear out for him but it makes what you want to do all the better. “Come sit on the bed baby” you point out where you want him to go, standing before him and towel drying his hair taking the same care you had while washing it. Feeling his hands come to rest on your hips and hearing him let out a satisfied hum.

“So, what did you have in mind?” Vash is trying to sound suave, but you can tell he’s faking it from his posture, still trying to keep himself hunched over and smaller. The towel he’d wrapped around his waist was also almost long enough to reach the floor. Not answering him you keep working at his hair until it feels dry to the touch, removing the towel and tossing it over your shoulder.

Digging your fingers into his head and scrapping your nails along his skull, “a few more moments of pampering I think baby. Then you get dressed and I go check on our clothes, and maybe throw a load of our travel clothes in that washing machine.”

Digging his fingers into the side of your hips and looking up at you with that soft smile you know is him being shy. Leaning down and pressing a kiss to his beauty mark. “Now lay down on your stomach for me.” A grumble from him but he does as you ask, settling on the bed and sticking a pillow under his head so his arms are crossed under the fluffy object, body tense.

Once he’s done situating himself you move, so your hips are settled over his butt jar in hand, scooping enough out to cover your hands. Pressing them against his shoulders and rubbing into the muscle of his trapes, a noise not unlike a pleased animal rising from him. You don’t comment, just slowly work your hands down his back and working the kinks you find out of the muscles as loosens up. “See babe, this is nice and relaxing right?”

A happy hum from him as a response, and you keep working, stopping when you hear him starting to snore softly. It’s been a long day for both of you, going and throwing the laundry over after ‘borrowing’ one of Vash’s shirts. Almost all of your and Vash’s clothes going through the washing cycles, and dried before you head back to the room.

All the while wondering how successful this town was given all the amenities you don’t normally see and curious if there is something simmering under the surface. Getting back to the room in time for Vash to wake up, once again bashful to have his scars on display but at least not hiding as much this time around. Both of you getting changed and cuddling under the covers, a few soft touches, both too tired to try anything beyond cuddling and giggling while you speak in low voices.

Back to Masterlist for the series

#vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun #twink writes #Bullets Bandits Ghosts & Typhoons #tristamp

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thethistlegirlwrites · 9 months

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♔ : Finding the other wearing their clothes

♜: Shoulder rubs

♥: Reacting to the other one crying about something

♦: Slow dancing

For Sierra and Shay (you know why I sent that last one 😉)

Ah my precious human (and non-human) dumpster fire disasters I love them dearly and I know you do too... they got long so once again they're below the cut!

"Is that my sweatshirt?"

"Correction. Our sweatshirt," Sierra replies.

"I didn't realize communal property extended to my clothes."

"I did the laundry this week, so yeah."

"No fair. I can't steal your stuff on my week."

"You could, but it would be kind of funny." She chuckles at the thought of Shay in one of her t-shirts; it would look like a crop top on him.

Between her chronically broke bank account and landlords' (unfortunately still fully legal) refusals to take on a vampire with a criminal record as a tenant, she and Shay had finally decided the most practical option was sharing her place. A one-bedroom apartment isn't a lot of room for two people, but with a coffin of home earth replacing the dilapidated college-purchase futon in the living room, they're making it work.

They're splitting the rent fifty-fifty, Sierra buys food (as the only one who actually needs it) and Shay takes care of utilities. They trade off on the chores. Pete made them a literal actual chore chart for the fridge.

He sure does love his spreadsheets.

"Well, I'm not going to fight you for it," Shay says, grinning and reaching past her to the blood shelf in the fridge.

"I'd hate to have to reset the 'Days Without Incident' board," Sierra says. They literally have one of those too, courtesy of her and Shay's tendency to ruffle each other's feathers and say things that set the other off. If they make it to seven days, it's cause for celebration.

'We haven't murdered each other yet' seems like a pretty low bar for roommates, but Sierra thinks that in this case, it's actually a pretty good one. They're living (or maybe undead, in Shay's case) proof that humans and vampires can co-exist.

And in a world where that's becoming increasingly important to prove, 'we survived another day together' might be one of the most valuable statistics they have.

She's pretty sure, somewhere, Pete has all of this on a spreadsheet. ... "Isn't it a little weird to be visiting a graveyard after hours?" Pete asks, glancing behind them at the chained gate.

"Well, I sort of wanted you all to meet him, and Shay can only come at night. Besides, unless they've changed their tactics a lot in the past couple years almost no one patrols this place. My high school friends and I used to come out here when we wanted to be sure no one would catch us drinking or smoking." She shrugs. "Now it feels kinda weird knowing I could have been sitting on my dad's headstone that time Javy convinced me to try my first cigarette."

Shay laughs, a sort of harsh sound that echoes off the stones. "Okay, you have to admit, that is pretty funny."

Sierra stops in front of a rough-cut, unassuming stone. It's probably from the ranch; her dad was the first generation not allowed to be buried in the family plot on their own land, but his family clearly wanted to leave a piece of his home with them.

It's like some inverted theory of home earth. Sierra kneels down, tracing the letters cut into the stone.

"Hey dad. It's me again. I brought friends this time. Well, better friends than I used to bring." She swallows, feeling warmth running down her night-chilled cheeks. "This is Pete, and this is Shay. Pete's my hunting partner. And Shay's a vampire but I think you might have liked him." She shrugs. "If it counts for anything, your brother doesn't actively hate him."

It's supposed to come out as a laugh, but it's more of a choked sob. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Stoker. Gotta say, you've got an awfully nice grave. Take it from someone that means something to." Shay lays a hand on top of the headstone, and this time, Sierra does laugh.

She knows what he's doing, but she doesn't mind. She'd rather laugh than cry, she thinks her dad would approve.

Pete just shuffles, clearly not as comfortable with the whole joking in the presence of the actual dead thing, but he takes a sprig of mesquite bush he'd found on the ranch earlier and lays it on top of the stone, tied around with a thin bit of red string. Apparently that's something from his family.

"Okay. We have two more to visit before we leave." Sierra leads the way to a pair of low graves with simple small stones at the heads, in a weedy, neglected corner.

"Who's here?" Pete asks.

"These were the graves of the vampires I staked." Sierra traces a finger over the stones. "When they died in a gang war, they were unclaimed and ended up buried here." Their ashes are scattered somewhere in the desert now, but it still means something to her to see the place they should have been laid to rest.

"Most hunters believe, on some level at least, that killing a vampire is simply freeing their soul. Like those stories about ghosts who are only trapped because they have unfinished business, and solving it helps them cross over." Sierra says. "But I didn't know that then. I didn't care about giving them peace, or freeing them. I just wanted them dead because I thought they were monsters."

"So what do you think? Am I a tortured soul you're doing a disservice to by letting me live?" Shay smiles a bit, fangs showing. "Would we both be better off if you freed me?"

"I think you could say the same thing to justify killing a human," Sierra replies. "As long as this life is what you want, I have no right to take it from you."

Pete taps Sierra on the shoulder and then points toward the entrance. "Lights."

He's right, a car is coming, and the way the road curves is going to send those lights right over all three of them.

"Okay, let's get out of here." ... Sierra parks in the lot of the library and glances at her passenger. The sun has been down for at least an hour, but Shay still looks nervous about getting out of the car.

"You still want to do this?"

He just nods.

Cody has been supplementing the LAPL's "Human Library Books" program with his suggestion of "(Non) Human Library" since they got the event off the ground. Robin's gone to almost all of them. Uncle John says Emma has gone a few times, when the events are in the evening late enough for her to feel comfortable going out but early enough she doesn't have to run her club.

But it's Shay's first time.

"I'm pretty sure half of the agency's going to be here. If anyone tries to harass you or pull something we'll deal with it." She's heard stories of people 'checking out' vampires only to try and poison them with garlic or expose them to UV light. There's a security process now, to make sure they're not carrying stakes or any other harmful items, but that doesn't mean someone can't get disturbingly creative.

"I'm not worried about that." He shrugs. "I just...I don't usually tell people about my past. Before I turned. They either pity me or start looking at me like somehow being an addict was worst than being a vampire." He tugs at the cuff of a sleeve. "If they ask what it's like to be me now, I can answer anything, but if they ask how it happened or what that was like..."

Sierra reaches across the car to rest her hands on his shoulders. The tension in his muscles is vibrating like an idling engine, and she rubs her thumbs into the back of his neck, hoping to ease it.

"You told me. And Pete."

"Yeah."

"And we don't treat you any different."

"Well, to be fair, I don't think it was going to get worse than handcuffed in the back seat of a Camaro."

"You are never going to let that one go, are you?"

He laughs. Halfhearted, but still real. "Nope."

"My point is, the people coming here, if they're being genuine, want to understand other people. They're not coming here to judge you. They're coming to learn what it's like to be you."

"Okay." He opens the car door. "Maybe you're right. I mean, I got to ride up front this time."

Sierra slaps his shoulder. "Okay, go on, get out of my car. I'm right behind you." ... "I don't think I fully realized what finding out I was a Stoker was going to involve," Sierra mutters, tugging at the flowing skirt of her gala dress. "Apparently I'm expected to represent my family name by showing up to this shindig in an evening gown."

"Well, you are basically ribbon-cutting this program," Pete says, adjusting his own tie. "It was your idea."

"I threw it at Maira and ran out her door. Figuratively. I had nothing to do with the past two years." She swishes the extravagant skirt around her ankles. It's not terrible, it's only ankle length and the slit side allows her both freedom of movement and access to the stake holster on her thigh, but she still doesn't have to like it. "They just want me here because I'm the legacy name with a connection to it. I'm going to trip over this thing and make a fool of myself."

"Well, that would certainly liven things up around here," Shay says. "Stop it." Sierra slaps his arm gently.

"Okay, go on, they're waiting for you." Pete says, tapping her arm and pointing her toward the stage.

She doesn't trip on anything, or mix up the notecards on the podium, but she's still glad when her speech is over and the actual party gets started. Even if she's not much for the dancing that picks up once dinner is over.

At least John convinced their DJ to include some Tejano in the mix. If she closes her eyes she can almost see her parents dancing to it playing on the Camaro's radio, in some empty field.

She's still in her seat, watching Pete tripping over his own feet trying to keep up with Saanvi, one of his fellow forensic accountants, when Shay pushes his own chair back from the table, stands up, and holds out his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

"Do you know how?"

"Do you?"

"Fair point. I know line dancing." Sierra motions to the room full of people. "And this is not it."

"Then it's perfect. Neither of us knows what we're doing and I think we're both coordinated enough to avoid stomping each other's feet."

The current song ends just as they step out onto the floor, and the new one is slower and softer. Sierra curses under her breath. She could fake her way through something high energy and upbeat. She's not good at calm and graceful.

She settles for sort of leaning into Shay's arm and swaying, moving incrementally like she's trying to keep the floor from creaking under her shoes.

It's actually not terrible, once she catches onto the rhythm and the music's tone, and eventually, as it grows louder and stronger, her steps gain confidence, until by the last few powerful notes she feels confident enough to spin out to the end of their connected grip and then whirl back to finish the song how they started, leaning against each other but not quite touching.

She looks up, wiping back an errant strand of hair that's escaped her neat bun, to see there's a circle of several feet of space all around them and most of the other people on the floor have stopped dancing.

Shay seems to have realized the same thing.

"Are they all watching us?"

"A vampire and a Stoker sharing the dance floor, as partners no less. This is probably real life 'Beauty and the Beast' to them," Sierra says. Shay chuckles, and Sierra leans into his shoulder as the song ends.

#asks #compass #sierra aguirre-stoker #shane barrett #pete jemison #I love them so much

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 2 years

Text

Moon Phase Series - Waxing Crescent

Summary: Moments in the life of the Moon Knight system.

I don't know how many chapters this will be. Not really connected so if you pick one up randomly you should be fine. Mostly feel good, maybe a little sad, maybe a little comfort. I wanted to explore little moments of them just being.

Warning: None yet.

Word Count: 932

Part 2: Simple problems. Grocery shopping can be a nightmare for any neurodivergent. Good thing this is not just any single Neurodivergent, but three. How does anything get done around here?

---

Sometimes it was easy for Steven to forget to do things.

At work, he used to get distracted by any new exhibit or display. He would walk by and notice a new plaque or new stand and immediately do a 180 to go investigate. First judging the display itself, taking in the location in relation to foot traffic and visibility, then he would take in the item of choice. Lastly, he would read the information plaque and judge it heavily to see if it gave enough info (it never did) or if it contained any typo errors or factual errors.

By the time he was done analyzing the new item, he had forgotten why he was going that way to begin with and have to start his journey over again.

Steven learned to make lists for important outings. Lists of places he needed to go and lists of things he needed to do at said places. Once done, he could check them off and feel accomplished.

Marc did not make lists. Marc would focus on one important task at a time. He would mutter to himself “Bank” in the most assertive tone and then leave the apartment as if he was setting out on a tactical mission.

Once the mission was done, he would return to the apartment to reset his mind and prepare for the next task. This resulted in many many unnecessary trips. If the mission needed more than one task, like a grocery store, he would become overwhelmed in what was presented to him versus what was actually needed. This often meant he would set out for orange juice and return with a bag of chips.

Of the three, Jake was the most organized. He made lists of all the things needed and would leave the apartment whistling a calming tune. He saw the world as a driving map and knew the layout in his head. He would plot out the best route to take, the fastest route if there were more than one location, and all the possible shortcuts should the need arise.

However, there were some things that Jake could not prepare for. Road closures and traffic jams always left him feeling irritated. He also never seemed to remember holidays and would often get to the store to find it closed.

The most frustrating outing was when the grocery store was undergoing revisions and everything in the store had been moved around. The bread was no longer in aisle 14 and a familiar gap between aisles was now blocked by a row of fruit.

When Jake became frustrated, it was fairly common for him to respond in one of two ways:

He would give up and go home. If he didn’t leave right then and there, he was likely to lose his temper and then no one would be happy.

He would decide he was done fronting for the day and shove someone else in place without so much as a how do you do, often leaving that person having no idea why they were suddenly standing in the bread aisle holding a bag of potatoes.

If they were lucky, Steven would be the one to take front, see the shopping list, and go about finding the rest of the list. It would take him far far longer than Jake would have, but it would get done.

If they were unlucky, Marc would be shoved to the front and stubbornly refuse to ask anyone for help. He would shove the list in a pocket and wander around the store picking random items that caught his attention and then they would go home with nothing that was needed, but a lot of items that no one actually wants.

If they were very unlucky, Jake would have already lost his temper before pushing Marc to the front. Marc would already be in a bad mood and decide he was tired of Jake always shoving him into these types of situations and attempt to force Jake to finish the job. Steven, who would have been up all night studying his current fixation, would attempt to co-front in an effort to actually go home with the items that he really wanted, but the lack of sleep would only make the situation that much more confusing.

This particular occurrence results in a two hour meltdown of them standing in the frozen section while Steven pleaded for them to just let him buy the bag of vegan burgers while Marc and Jake argued about the location of items they did and did not need.

After that escapade, Layla introduced them to pre purchasing items online and picking them up in store. An agreement was made that Steven would order the items if Jake would pick them up. Marc was not to touch the computer as he tended to be won over by the many ads for bulk purchases. This was the reason for the gallon of mayonnaise that was currently in the cupboard.

Of course there were still problems now and then, like Jake not wanting to front that day and leaving Steven and Marc to get the items, or the time that they found the order full of novelty items that Steven had decided he really wanted. Or the time Marc had insisted that the ten packs of steaks was too good a deal to pass up.

With the groceries more or less taken care of, the next obstacle was trying to keep Steven from visiting the new bookstore down the street every day.

They were not winning that fight.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight fic #Short fic #Marc Spector #Steven Grant #Jake Lockely #Look those bulk deals are so very tempting #they don't even eat mayonase #Steven kept the jar to shame Marc #Narrator fic

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nikkireedsource · 20 days

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Nikki Reed Has a 5-Minute, Not-So-Hollywood Cleanse for You

The actress, newlywed, and wellness guru is opening up her pantry for a new recurring column.

Welcome to Take Five, my new recurring beauty and nutrition column on ELLE.com culled from a lifelong passion for animals, the outdoors, and feeling good. For me, the notion of taking five—whether the number pertains to ingredients in a food or just a moment to ask your body how it's feeling—can make all the difference. Consider this your 300-second-long wellness retreat.

Six years ago, while living in Greece, I was eating everything under the sun, but still felt really clean, pure, and wonderful. When I came back to the States, after a year of being abroad, I realized that I was just not feeling well: I was putting on weight; my skin wasn't good; and I couldn't figure out what the issue was. I started putting together my own theories about our food system (more on that later), and I realized that being gone for so long, and cleaning myself out the way I did, gave my body the opportunity to start over—if I wanted it.

I realized that there was something unhealthy happening with our food system (an awareness that eventually led my husband, Ian Somerhalder, and me to work as ambassadors for Thrive Market, an organic-at-wholesale company). In addition to my own evolving instincts, I tuned in to the habits of the people around me such as my uncle, a yoga instructor and raw vegan, and my brother—my super handsome, super buff brother—who is a perfect example of someone who can live within a mostly plant-based diet and still look the way he wants.

In addition to recalibrating the foods I was putting into my body, I began tinkering with making my own beauty products. I wish I had some super secret formula that makes my creations really unique, but I mostly use items I pick up from the natural food store. My rule is: If I can eat it, I can put it on my skin. Coconut oil mixed with olive oil is what I put on my body every day; I put rose hip oil on my face. If my hair feels dry, instead of going and buying something filled with chemicals, I put egg whites or avocados or mayonnaise in my hair. I leave it on there for an hour or two and I wash it out.

It may sound complicated, by my routine really is so, so basic. If you look at the Polynesian culture in Hawaii—a lot of my family is from Hawaii—you can see how what they put into their bodies manifests itself in other ways. Polynesian women are known for their long hair, glowing skin, and thick nails. And that comes from the local diet, which is mostly plant based with a little bit of fish and a lot of natural fats and oils. It's about eating things that are living and raw and applying that same logic to what you put on your skin and hair.

For me it's all about not ingesting chemicals. I tried for a long time to only eat things with less than five pronounceable ingredients—hence the name of this column. If you're lost and looking to press the reset button, that's kind of a cool, easy way to start. (FYI: You can find some really great protein bars and nut bars that still only have three or four ingredients, like ground-up cashews, honey, and cinnamon!) This may sound surprising for someone who works in Hollywood, but I do not count calories and I don't even care about weight gain, which I know sounds really bizarre. I listen to my body. I don't just wake up in the morning and cook whatever I eat.

Routinely I go, 'Hmm, what do I want today? What do I see? Is there oatmeal? Does that mean I need carbohydrates? Is it bananas? Do I need potassium?' If you actually take a second to ask your body what it wants before you feed it, it will answer. Okay, so I know I sound like a crazy person, but how is my philosophy any more extreme than people who say, 'I'll diet for 36 hours' or 'I just won't eat today'? Nothing drives me crazier than girls who are doing these cleanses.

You can cleanse by just eating well. Don't believe me? Next week I will show you how. Until then, breathe in, breathe out, and remember to take five. (Also, feel free to laugh at this pic of me making homemade almond milk.)

Original article

#nikki reed #reads #interview #elle #take five #wellness

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handelplayssims · 1 year

Text

Twas the day of New Year’s Eve and goddamn it. It’s still blizzarding. Man I sure hope we’re getting a lot of wind power out of this. Only one person is super-excited for New Years in this family and that’s Izzy. She wants to stay up until midnight after all. Which yeah, kids love that excuse. Even if as a kid it was similar to what it was now, which was being on the computer and suddenly going “Oh hey, it’s a New Year.”

Anyway, Lara has two wishes. To hug someone and to make money. Good way to start on that is to sell off some flowers and garlic. 460 Simoleans out of that. 540 more to go. A hack outta serve us! Anyway, Cameron and Izzy woke up and decided to head on over to Lara. With Cameron’s second whim outside of sharing ideas being to have a baby, which no, alongside Lara’s want of a hug...yeah these two can spend some private time to themselves today. Once Lara gets done with this last hack to push her to 1000 Simmoleans.

I send Izzy off to read while Cameron and Lara have their home date. Because you can have dates at home! But why would you when you can go elsewhere for dates? But here in this blizzard, no one leaves home! So we actually got a date marker of watching tv, which hey! There we go, there is tv. And it makes a good excuse to have a nice chat as well. Though, once again, we aren’t going to have them be flirty at the same time. A passonate duo, they are not. Mostly because of that overclocked computer buff for Lara. ...that being said, if I cared a lot, I would get the emotional potions but I don’t care that much. These two being friends first and passionate lovers all the way down is very relatable for me.

Anyway, date was fine. Lots of chatting. Of managing needs in the middle of it. And the classic stand-by of flirting while playing chess. Which sounds like a great way for two nerds to befriend each other better. Meanwhile, Izzy is just...vibing. Well, experimented on the science playset, read a book and did some more yoga.

And I decided to end the date on something a lot more interesting. Rocket ship woohoo time! After the date, I had the family hang out together in the living room and chat a bit. Got one of those parenthood pop ups with Izzy asking about a lost toy and what she should do for it. I advised keep searching and she got her responsibility with less emotional control. At 10:30-ish, the tv was turned on to watch the New Years festivities and I thought, “yeah why not” and just let them enjoy the New Years show before the actual event happened.

...hey perhaps I should have fireworks as an event for this. But it’s usually a thing only offical things do rather than “people nab fireworks and have fun.”

Anyway, I got the midnight watch thing to work for Cameron and Izzy but not for Lara. Ah well. Anyway, to have a great holiday, I needed to do a little bit more so it was resolution time. For Cameron, I picked an easy one. Raise a Skill. I aimed for a promotion for Lara and for Izzy...well, she didn’t need to make a resolution but I did so anyway. Become a better student. Which for that would have also counted for Complete an Aspiration milestone but eh. Anyway, Lara and Izzy headed to bed but for Cameron, I had him napping. Because this would be the usual time for his work so we need to reset our sleep schedule. By the by, he finished his resolution via putting Izzy to bed and gaining level 6 in the parenting skill. Good for you Cameron. Nap finished and he wanted to work on his comedy skills so I guess why not make up a routine!? But it’s that time. The time for-

Neighborhood Watch!

Windenburg: The Sorenson household moved out.

#sims 4 #liveblogging #fletcher household #cameron fletcher #lara fletcher #izzy fletcher

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sergeantbuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

amnesia // bucky barnes

Summary: During a fight in Madripoor you get hit in the head resulting in forgetting the last ten years of your life. And most important, your boyfriend.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS, memory loss, zemo is a dick, sad bucky, angst

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @bob-kane for proofreading this!

divider by @firefly-graphics

main masterlist

He didn’t leave your side, not even for a second. Worry was eating him alive. You had been unconscious for a while now. Some asshole had hit your head pretty bad, and they couldn’t risk take you to a hospital to check if everything was alright.

You were still in Madripoor, so Sharon suggested taking you to her place. You were lying on her bed. Bucky had been beside you the whole time, his flesh hand holding yours .

“Are we even sure she’s gonna wake up?” that’s the worst thing Zemo could ask.

“If you don’t shut up, you will be the one not waking up to see tomorrow,” When it came about you, you were Bucky’s number one priority, the rest of the world didn’t matter. And he will definitely kill Zemo if he dared to say something like that again.

You’ll wake up. You had to.

He was right.

You opened your eyes and blinked. The first thing you noticed was the throbbing pain in your head. It was worse than waking up from a hangover. As you tried to raise your hand to wipe the sleep from your eyes, you realized someone was holding it. Stretching your sore body, you turned your head to examine your surroundings. Your vision was blurry and you could barely make out three vague shapes moving in the corner attested.

“Y/N?” Although your vision was still hazy you distinguished the figure of your friend approaching you.

“Sharon?”

At the sound of your voice, the hand holding yours released it, allowing you to wipe your eyes in an attempt to see things more clearly.

“What happened?” your voice was sore, you were still confused

“Some dickhead knocked you out,” Sam walked cautiously towards you

“How are you feeling?” You turned your head to find the source of the voice, at your left you saw a dark-haired man with blue eyes.

“Like I have been hit in the head,” the man chuckled, if you still had your sense of humor that was a good signal. “Where am I?”

“My apartment,” You narrowed at the response of your friend, you took a look at the room. This wasn’t Sharon’s place.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked when he saw the confusion on your face

“You had moved and I don’t remember?”

Sam, Sharon, and the man with blue eyes shared a concerning look.

“Y/N, we are not in Brooklyn. We are in Madripoor,”

“Where?” What kind of name was that for a town. Pretty sure they didn’t have a lot of tourism.

The man that had remained in the corner laughed. “Seems she had a reset”

At this the blue-eyed guy exhaled deeply and went towards him, grabbing him by his shirt “One more comment, and I swear I’d kill you,” rage and anger were dripping from his mouth.

“Y/N,” Sharon called you with a soft voice, you averted your gaze from the two men to your friend, “Do you know what day is it today?”

You looked at her confused, not knowing why she would ask such a question. “Friday?” you answered her question, not too sure.

“Year?” she insisted.

“2014,” now you were very sure about this.

Your friends shared concerned looks. “Do you know who this is?” Sam asked, pointing at the blue-eyed guy. You shook your head. “Are you sure?”

“I would remember a pretty face like that, Sammy,” but the truth is, that you didn’t.

“What about him?” He pointed to the man in the corner.

You scrunch your nose “Not my type,”

“Hey!,” the man seemed offended by your answer “For your information, I have a private jet,” he tried to impress you.

“I don’t care,” you simply said

“Y/N,” you felt the hand of your friend on your shoulder “It’s not 2014. We’re in 2024”

When you saw people get amnesia in the movies they always made it romantic, but this didn’t feel like that. You couldn’t recall anything from the last ten years of your life. You were unable to deal with the intensity of your emotions. You felt lost, you didn’t feel at home.

It was a lot to process, Sharon had been branded an enemy of the States, Steve was gone and now there was a new Captain America parading around, Tony and Natasha were dead….

“What about him?” you pointed with your head to the guy who claimed to have a private jet.

“These dickheads broke him out of prison,”

But Sam didn’t like the answer Sharon gave you, so he quickly clarified “He broke him out of prison,” he pointed at his friend “Not me”

You looked at the blue-eyed man “And who are you?”

Bucky felt a shard in the guts. That question really hurt him. You completely forgot about him. Your mind had erased every piece of him. You were his biggest support and now he had lost you.

“Steve’s friend. Bucky.” Sharon explained, “Steve talked to us about him, remember?”

You did remember. And you also remember Steve telling you how he fell off the train and died. “Wasn’t he dead?” You were confused.

“He survived. And HYDRA captured him.”

Your eyes widened. “They captured you?” He only nodded, his gaze fixed on the ground. “What did they do to you?”

Sam cleared his throat. “Let’s not talk about that now,” You didn’t press, knowing that it wouldn’t be an easy topic for him to talk about. “How are you feeling?”

“If we ignore the fact that I don't remember the last ten years of my life, pretty good, actually.”

“We have to go back to New York,” Bucky suggested “A doctor should see you”

“That would be best,” Sharon agreed.

Although you wanted her to come with you, you knew she couldn’t, not until Sam got her the pardon he promised. At least, that's what they told you.

“It’s going to be a long flight,” The ex-prisoner was the first in walking out of the room.

“I don’t like him,” you muttered

“Me neither,” Sam concurred.

Sam was sleeping in his seat, Bucky was looking through the window and the other guy was nowhere to be found, not that you cared. You were flying back to the States, with some luck you would see a good doctor and maybe you’d get your memories back.

“You okay?” you sat next to the blue-eyed guy, he averted his gaze to you when he noticed your presence.

“Yeah,”

“You don’t seem okay,”

“You’re the one who had been hit in the head. How can I be the one who doesn’t look okay?”

“Touché,” you laughed, and he gave you a half-smile in return. But you could see how his eyes hold sadness behind them. “When did we meet?”

He paused for a second, thinking if he should answer your question or if this was something you should remember on your own. But considering they already told you some of the things that had happened this last ten years, your question wasn’t that much of a deal. “In Bucharest. In 2015.”

“That was before the sign of the Accords happened, right?” he nodded “What team was I on?”

He chuckled, “Which one do you think you were in?”

You made a pensive look that made him smile. This time it reached his eyes, and you couldn’t help the thought of how beautiful he was. “Well, I have always been loyal to Steve, but I have to say that the idea of going against Tony scares the shit outta me,”

You don’t know when it happened, you kept talking for a while before you eventually fell asleep on his shoulder. He brushed the air off your face and caressed your cheek gently, not wanting to wake you up.

“You know it’s not the end if she doesn’t remember you, right?” Zemo sat in front of him “At least she’s alive,”

“It would be the end, for me,” yes you were alive and he was thankful for that but everything that you had shared wasn’t there anymore. He was a complete stranger to you. You didn’t remember all the nights you stayed up by his side when he had a nightmare, you didn’t remember your time in Wakanda together, you didn’t remember all the stories he had told you about the forties, you didn’t remember staying up until morning talking about your future, about building a family together, you didn’t remember all the times you made love, you didn’t remember him.

“She fell in love with you once, she can do it again”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

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mothwantstoswim · 3 years

Text

hearts broken (pun intended)

I am so disappointed with this heart business. A quick list of reasons:

1. I can’t send hearts to ACTUAL IRL FRIENDS because of different time zones or work schedules, so we don’t get to specifically spend time playing sky together??

2. Some players I did one thing with ages ago, still have a special place in my heart. Daily interaction doesn’t make a connection superior.

3. Sending a heart means “thinking of you,” it means “I hope you’re well,” it means “I love and appreciate you.” TGC is basically like, we don’t want you to show players that you care about each other UNLESS YOU’RE BESTIES.

3.5 (if their goal is to cultivate positive social connections, this actually CUTS OFF a LOT OF THEM). I think very fondly of the sky kids I never play with but can always depend on for a heart here and there

4. I get realtime interaction anxiety. Thankfully it’s mild, but I play solo a lot. So I don’t deserve hearts? I don’t deserve some funky pants and fun hair? Because that’s what hearts are for. I spend many hours on this game, trying to keep up with TS prices and stuff. I LIKE playing Sky. I put TIME into Sky. But I don’t do the Specific Action that they have decided to glorify as more valuable than anything else. So less hearts for me.

5. To make things WORSE, I can send a heart but not receive one. Or, I can receive one but not give one back. I feel guilty that I can’t reciprocate! One-way heart-sending is WAY more like “exploitation” than an even trade ever was.

6. The fact that we weren’t told.. it wasn’t tested... it feels so underhanded. TGC needs to recognize what people ALREADY love about this admittedly beautiful game, instead of getting all stuck on some Lofty Ideal of what the game SHOULD be and bending players to their will.

7. Also. There’s no way to tell who can or can’t send/receive your heart unless you like.. try send a heart to everyone in your friendship tree. I thought some friends were ignoring me but maybe it was just this disaster of an update

EDIT: 7.5. There’s no indication your heart doesn’t send! The open envelope is there, you tap it and the candles go to it, sometimes it even says you sent it! But then leave that friend menu and the candles zoop back to you and the friend never got their heart. AT LEAST MAKE IT OBVIOUS YOU CAN’T SEND. I had to go back through all my friends in a panic because I didn’t know who did or didn’t actually end up getting a heart. Two people I REALLY want to give hearts to are apparently two that I CAN’T. Would it be too much to grey out the icon and make it do the apologetic wiggle when you tap it? Maybe an alert that says “Spend more time with this friend to send them a heart!” This is the worst

8. Hearts are ALREADY HARD TO GET. Especially if you are trying to save up candles for travelling spirits, AND work on the regular constellations, AND not spend 3 hours grinding every day, you can only really support one or two daily heart trades. So think about it. Black cape is 50 hearts. That’s 7.5 weeks -- almost two months to save up for that one cape if you have one daily trade. And it’s just under a month with two daily trades. For ONE CAPE. And that’s with no other accessories you might want to acquire in the meantime.

9. I feel like the preexisting settings were already pretty good for limiting this so-called “exploitation”? Like, you can only send someone one heart a day. You can’t just spam each other infinite hearts as long as you have the candles for it.

9.5. Plus, I noticed form my one dear irl friend who doesn’t play sky regularly: say I send her a heart. I get the closed envelope icon and the message that says “You’ve sent this friend a heart!” Say two days later, she logs back in and collects it. That day, I still can’t send her another heart. Envelope remains closed. It must be collected, and then go through reset, before I can send another. Basically, it counts the day the heart is collected, rather than the day it’s sent. So if I send her a heart, she waits a few days to log in, collects it, and I try send another one on that day, she can’t get two hearts from me, for every one heart per login she can send me back. If that makes sense. I thought that setup kept things pretty fair.

In conclusion I have no doubt this heart update will drive a lot of people to give up on Sky. TGC has really been trying our patience lately and this is a pretty big disaster that impacts A LOT of players in the worst way. As a moth I’m sad that things have devolved so much even in the five months I’ve been around. Sky has so much going for it and I genuinely love playing but those little frustrations start to add up. I’ll stick around for now, but who knows what other inane updates are coming in the months ahead...

Please, please, the only thing we the community can do is make a lot of noise. Tell them on their Discord in the #live-feedback tag. FEEL FREE to use any/many parts of this post to help organize your thoughts and express to TGC your dissatisfaction with this update. Though maybe don’t copy/paste the bullet points word for word so they think it’s a bot or something I guess.

I hope that this clarifies a number of the nuances I (and maybe you) are feeling. If nothing else, this was certainly cathartic for me xD Let’s hope TGC gets their act together and actually listens. No one likes a broken heart.

#P.S. I'm going all out for days of Giving so if you want to heart trade DM me! we'll have to sit around in game for a while tho I guess lol #heart disaster #heart trade #Sky: Children of the Light #sky cotl #scotl #sky星を紡ぐ子どもたち #thatgamecompany #sky: cotl #heart disaster needs its own tag #tgc critical

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1randomperson15 · 1 year

Text

I posted 6,410 times in 2022

That's 5,354 more posts than 2021!

109 posts created (2%)

6,301 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@samantha-kirkland

@fandomandsparkles

@sword-of-stardust

@dreamsclock

@findingjoynweirdstuff

I tagged 1,138 of my posts in 2022

#long post - 102 posts

#my stuff - 69 posts

#lmao - 50 posts

#interesting - 42 posts

#r/place <3 - 35 posts

#amazing - 30 posts

#<3 - 30 posts

#liveblogging - 19 posts

#dsmp spoilers - 15 posts

#mairimashita iruma kun spoilers - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i feel like the only parents that will do it right will be people who went unsupervised and loved it but knew it could've been so much wors

My Top Posts in 2022:

This is so weird he's a stranger but he's not that's Dream that's where they're supposed to be. This is the world we live in now, they're together. Finally

121 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

@staff

152 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

The most important people to Iruma, everyone

166 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

So, Ace Race...what happened?

To give everyone a clearer, more objective view of the situation, I present: the spreadsheet. It contains a list of every player's two times and placements and who disconnected (Keep in mind there could be more, these are just the names I saw in chat join/leave).

I calculated how many places players went up or down and how their time improved. They are color coded by team, and for your convenience I put three lists next to each other: The original placements, the new placements, and what the placements would look like if the only new times you counted were the players that disconnected. (This took seven hours).

Analysis under the cut

For the record, when the first player logged off (Captain Sparklez), there was 4:30 left, when the last player rejoined (Scar) there was 4:01 left, the first person (Dream) placed with 3:28 seconds left. they stopped the game with 1:20 left. And 5up, as far as I know, didn't even rejoin until after the race was over.

Fruit brought up the issue in chat at 2:29 left (after he finished), a few others agreed with him. Oli brought up redoing it with 2:07 left. I don't know whether the admins didn't notice or didn't realize how many people actually dc'd or figured teams were equally affected, but they announced a redo at 1:44. It was tight, they made a decision in 2 minutes and 17 seconds if they noticed everyone disconnecting. Or in less than a minute if they only noticed when people talked in chat, and they did stop the game 14 seconds later.

Now for some analysis, many players dropped a few placements and felt upset about it, thinking they did worse. This leads to them becoming more frustrated with the reset. I suspected they likely didn't, it was just there were quite a few really good ace race players that got discontented (Illumina, Fruitberries, HBomb).

The vast majority of players improved their time, often by a lot. The only ones that didn't were: Dream, Sapnap, InTheLittleWood, Smallishbeans, FoolishG, Badboyhalo, and AntVenom.

To my knowledge: Dream tried and failed to copy Purpled's skip several times, Martyn had a really good run the first time/tried skips, and Ant's trident didn't work/he tried skips. Joel, Sap, and Bad's were 0-2 seconds worse. I don't know what happened to Foolish (lack of morale ?)

As to be expected, everyone who disconnected improved majorly from 45 seconds to over 1 minute and 30 seconds. Most also rose quite a few placements, but not all. And not enough to account for all the upset in the new placements, so what else?

Well, those who practiced for ace race a lot, vod reviewed, and had experience was now void of those advantages. Now, people had a fresh run, they are familiar with the movements needed, and they saw other people do skips that they can try.

Bad originally had a massive advantage because he has a unique way he practices it that familiarizes the movements to him, but that's now gone, though he only lost one second, he dropped 14 places. Hannah, on the other hand, had never played ace race in an event before. But with the reset, she did and thus performed much better, gaining 6 places.

Almost everyone got faster times, but certain people with certain circumstances were more affected by it. So players, rest assured, you probably did improve the second time around, others just improved more (others being players that were previously handicapped).

(Also Dream, yes it was at least 10 people that were dc'd, Skeppy has not played in 14 months and it was Fruit and Illumina.)

Here's the link if anyone was having trouble accessing it: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1TnIGRBftyOJUFE0IDK-cffCyTHVMVeQjeJ8nz-4egY4/edit?usp=sharing

I really hope this doesn't need to be said, but DO NOT use this as a basis to harass Scott or Noxite or any of the Noxcrew. I really hope this clears up some misunderstandings and make some people feel better, not make things worse. It was a tough decision, but I think it was by far the right one. You can see for yourself how much of a difference the disconnects made. Noxcrew does a lot every month to bring us the wonderful event that is MCC, Scott made the teams we're all so fond of, they just released the closed beta of MCC Island. No, things weren't perfect or ideal, but it was out of their control. Besides, we've only had 2 MCCs out of 24 that was this level of scuffed and I think that's a pretty damn good track record.

336 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The fact that Wil's stream, Skeppy's video, and even Phil's stream all made me laugh at one point or another really says something about Techno, I think

758 notes - Posted July 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #my stuff #tumblr was snide about my lack of tagging things #I don't bother okay #let me wordlessly reblog a stupid amount of posts in peace #I'm glad that Techno was first and Ace Race was second #Ace Race post is my favorite I love all the messages under it

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thesmokingguns · 3 years

Text

Not with the band

summary: hi everyone, I wrote this for @ayablackwood . I hope you like it!

A/N: this is my longest oneshot and I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you for Reading. If you want to make a request for a fix either message me or you can request HERE. Thank you!

tag list: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @ayablackwood @agroupiewhore

Word Count:6102

Izzy POV

The first thing I noticed about her was the big brown eyes. Sad eyes that showed she had lived her life and seen a few things in her time. I had never noticed a girl's eyelashes before but I could see the long black lashes sweeping down, staring at her drink before looking back up almost doing a reset. Maybe she was like me and thought that these parties took a lot out of a person. The constant talking to strangers, faking politeness or interest in a conversation with someone.

I got a reputation for being indifferent, a quiet introspective sort of person who didn't care about others. But that wasn’t who I was; I just found most people were just boring to be around. There are only so many times you can talk about your band before you realize that it’s not your band they care about. Most girls I met just wanted to sleep with me. It wasn��t even that they wanted to sleep with me but that they wanted to sleep with the guitarist from Guns n Roses. And that was fine. I had no problem sleeping with the girls who didn’t require me to put in any effort because I wasn’t going to waste my time trying to woo them.

But as I watched this stranger across the room, I couldn't help but start to think about who she was. I noticed she had a nervous tick of pushing her straight black hair behind her ear when men came up to her and when she was talking to her friends she’d place her hands on their forearms almost whispering secrets into their ears. She played with the tab of her beer can, the one she only sipped a couple times in the hour that I had been watching her. She wasn’t wearing skyrocketing heels or lace dresses. She had on a button up summer dress with a collar and short sleeves. Every once and a whole she’d stuff her hand in a pocket, letting her eyes sweep the room for someone she knew. She looked ready for a church picnic and not the rock and roll party at a beach house that would probably stretch though the entire weekend. She didn’t even seem to notice that she wasn’t all teased up 80’s glam; she was comfortable in her.

I had no idea who she was or who she came with but I couldn’t stop staring at her. She drank beer instead of the usual wine or booze that the girls at these parties consumed and instead of hanging out near a band member she was around other girls. They all seemed to come over to her, leaning close to whisper secrets in her ear, the sly smiles they spread across their faces. How did she know so many people here and I had no idea who she was? Finally, Axl’s girlfriend laced their arms, dragging her over to the couch where Axl and I were both sitting, giving me a chance to get to know her.

“This is Y/N, she’s my best friend. Y/N this is Axl and Izzy.'' When the introduction was done she pulled her down on the couch, our legs touching from the close proximity. I watched her lick her lips, turning to lean close to me so she could talk and have me hear what she was saying. I could smell her shampoo, like lavender, and feel the warmth of her body as she gave me a conspiratory look. It was intoxicating being this close to her and having her overwhelm my senses.

“I’m everyone’s best friend because I’m usually the designated driver.” she joked, the smile breaking out over her face like she was sharing this joke with me. Holy shit, it was like staring into the sun when her smile spread across her face, warming up those sad brown eyes and showing a twinkle of joy.

Hook, line, and sinker. I never reacted to a girl like this before and now this stranger was beside me on the couch and I couldn’t even think of something to say. All I could think about was how soft her hair looked and how much I wanted to wrap my fingers around a silky lock. Or how her nails weren’t painted the fashionable red or the neon colors but this soft pink. Everything about her seemed to stick out or maybe she was just sticking out to me because I was already obsessed with her.

“I’m Izzy.” She gave me a look and I realized that introductions had already been made and I was just making a fool of myself. This is exactly what I get for spacing out in so many conversations with girls. I lost any sort of ability to communicate with someone. “Do you want to get out of here?” Following up my reintroduction of myself with a line that I had used on a bunch of one night stands that I had wanted to stop talking about. It was that instant feeling of regret seeping into me.

“No, I don’t.” She didn’t give me any other explanation, only got up from the couch, headed over to a group of people and blended into them with ease. She hadn't even given me a look when she left.

“You have been staring at Y/N all night and I got her to come and sit down next to you and not even five minutes later you screwed it up. What did you say to her?” the girl on Axl’s lap asked me. I felt like a kid being scolded by my parents and even felt a burning in my cheeks.

“I’ll fix it, don’t worry.” I was standing up, walking across the room to where she was standing. It had been months, maybe years since I went up to a girl and not just let them come up to me. It was like she felt me coming, her head turning, eyes meeting mine and suddenly I was forgetting everything that I had prepared in my mind. Just the way she looked at me had me forgetting the apology that I had in my mind. “Just grabbing a beer.” I reached around her grabbing a beer from the bucket on the table watching her eyes follow me. Smooth. So fucking smooth.

It had been a week since the party and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I’d go to sleep thinking of her. She’d come to me in my dreams with those brown eyes waking me up. I couldn’t stop thinking about how the side of her lips curled up and her whole face lit up when she smiled. I started to realize I was putting her on this pedestal, obsessing over Y/N, a girl I had met once in passing at a party.

So I did the only thing that I could do. I called up Axl to have his girlfriend plan a double date so that I could see her again. With the double date she would have her friend there for support but she would also be there with me. This would give me the opportunity to charm her and show her I was capable of conversations that were bigger than just introducing myself or getting a beer.

The girls were at the bar and my heart got caught in my throat when I saw her. She was wearing a silky green dress, clinging to the curves of her body. Cherry painted lips, full and just needing to be kissed, were in a smile as she sipped a wine glass. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the night.

Her eyes landed on mine across the room, the soft smile she was wearing blooming larger as she shook her head, leaning forward to her friend before the pair of them were both headed over to us.

“I had a feeling it would be you here tonight.” she had that glint in her eyes again, “What was your name again? I don’t think that I caught it the first time.” the way she teased me so easily put me at ease. I didn't feel the stress like I had the night of the party. She was bringing me out of the shyness, fixing the way my mouth was tongue tied.

Y/N sat next to me at dinner, tight in the booth as we talked about all the usual things people talked about but instead of hitting the highlight rail and painting a rainbow over her life she was raw. When we talked about family she told me about her grandparents who had raised her and Aunts and Uncles who stepped in where her parents failed. She knew about the band because she was actually best friends with Axl’s girlfriend so when she looked at me there was a skeptical look in her eyes as if she knew the secrets and shames of my life. But there wasn't any judgement.

Y/N asked me questions, not about the band and what it felt like to be on stage or if I’d write a song about her but different questions like what it felt like when I held a guitar for the first time and how many songs did he write that never made it past notebooks. We talked and talked, snug in the booth together seeming to forget it was a double date and we just fell into a conversation together.

Finally a waiter came over to us letting us know that the place was closing and that the two of you had to leave. Time had completely gotten away from me as I had stayed wrapped up in her. Looking across the table I saw Axl and his date gone.The check was on the table but before I could reach for it she had thrown money down, smiling up at the waiter and letting him know it was all set.

“I’m supposed to pay for that.” I said as she scooted gently pushing me out of the booth. Her shoulders shrugged as she walked out of the restaurant, not waiting for me or seeming to care if I was behind her.

The sound of her heels on concrete, gave away which direction she was headed. Her bare shoulders were held high even in the cool night and I was rushing to be by her side, shrugging out of the denim jacket and wrapping it around her. The kind brown eyes looked up at me, skeptical for a second.

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Izzy.” her voice was clear and came out easily, “And I don’t date musicians.” She was matter of fact, shutting off the fact that we had just had a good night together and had gotten to know each other more.

I had watched the way she talked, confirming some of her nervous ticks. Like how she would look down and reset, sweeping her eyes around the room when she wasn’t comfortable. That had stopped about twenty minutes into dinner when we started to get along. There was no beer can tab to bend this way and that so instead her finger swirled around the top ledge of her wind glass in between small sips of wine.

“I never said anything about sleeping with you or dating you.” I said as we got to the corner. Her brown eyes were narrowed, regarding me with a strange curiosity like she was trying to make out what I wanted from her. “I want to kiss you though.” My hand slid through her black hair, as soft as silk, just like I had known it would be. She gasped, her mouth opening in a slight gasp not expecting me to be so close to her. Our eyes met and I watched her search me, as if there would be answers behind my eyes that I hadn’t spoken to her.

“If you kiss me I’ll never speak to you again. I don’t need boys kissing me.” her brown eyes were serious. There was an interesting spark there and it wasn’t like she was telling me that I couldn't kiss her. Y/N hadn’t moved an inch from my arms, she stayed looking up at me with my hands on her lower back. Having her in my arms felt good, not like the carnal or feral pleasure that I had with random girls. It was like we could communicate without words

“I’m not a boy, I’m a man.” The way she smirked at that statement was encouraging but there was still the fear in her eyes that I wanted to see gone. How could I get those brown eyes to only shimmer in happiness. “Let me walk you home.” I pulled back, watching the way her eyes sparkled for a second. It was the first time I felt like I had made the right choice.

Two days later I was sitting on the couch backstage, my fingers picking idolly on the guitar when two giggling girls burst into backstage. And there she was, eyes shiny with joy as she laughed with her friend. The pair of them seemed almost surprised that they were in the room with the band. Y/N looked up, eyes landing on me as if she knew exactly where I would be.

I don’t know why her eyes knocked the wind out of me everytime that they looked at me but I was made stupid in her presence. She didn’t come over to talk to me, staying with her friend. Her black hair was tied back in a red ribbon bow. If she could have reached the ribbon I’m sure she would have pulled it out; she was playing with the end of her ponytail. I didn’t know why she was nervous but I gave her space watching how every few minutes she would look down her eyes looking around until they landed on me. When we would make eye contact she seemed frustrated by it and would pull her eyes away.

I had her phone number which I had called several times since the double date without her picking up once. There had to be a reason she was ignoring me. I had thought of around 100 in the time that I had been obsessing with her. The biggest one, the one that made the most sense is she wasn’t into me because there was someone else. The logical part of my brain accepted this but the other part wanted to fight for her, prove that I was worth it.

Before we went on stage, I looked over at her again.She looked tired, like she hadn’t slept since I dropped her off. Small dark circles that she hadn’t bothered to cover in makeup stood out as she sipped her beer. She wasn’t trying to make everyone laugh or touching forearms as she leaned in to speak to them. One hand was firmly planted in the denim shorts she was wearing and the other on a can of beer that I was sure was warm from how long she nursed it. It felt like something was wrong and I didn't have time to figure out what it was.

During the show I looked over, almost doing a double take when I saw her standing there, watching us perform. Her friends were all moving to the music but she was perfectly still just watching me. Not the band but me. She caught me staring and sent me a small wave in return, I missed the next note getting a scathing look from Axl as repayment.

How could she be so inside my head? I had no idea how to deal with it. All I could think about for the rest of the shoe was getting off stage and talking to her. Or kissing her. I could imagine her pressed against her, her arms wrapping around my neck as I lifted off her feet into a kiss. The feeling of her plus lips on mine, her tongue that I was sure tasted like something sweet, dancing against mine. I blinked myself out of the image, stealing a look over at her as if she could read my embarrassing thoughts. Just like a high school idiot I was fantasizing about a girl. I needed to get a better grip on things.

It took me almost twenty minutes to find her after the show. Between all the hustle and bustle of people moving around it was like a whirlwind and then suddenly there she was walking towards me, what looked like my denim jacket folded over her arm.

“Hey, I just brought this back for you. I have to head home now.” She tried to hand me the jacket but I was too caught up in the idea of her leaving so soon to grab it. Y/N must have seen the confusion on my face, “I have a meeting I need to prepare for tomorrow. I probably shouldn’t have even come out to this.” She motioned around to the show and once more held out the jacket for me to take,

“Why don’t I take you home?” The weary look on her face was there again; she didn’t trust me. It was fair. We hadn’t known each other for that long and if she knew the same people as I did it wasn’t really a slight on me to not trust me. It was common sense, “I just want to have a couple more minutes with you. I won’t force myself into your apartment or anything like that.” I could feel my heart breathing as I tried to play off this cool, collected guy. When she nodded in agreement I had to bite my lip to stop the idiotic smile from plastering across my face.

We talked in the car, small talk about little things and I asked her about her meeting. I got to glimpse her face express joy, stress, hope, and a million other emotions at the mention of it and realized this wasn’t just her work meeting but her passion meeting. Y/N wanted to design clothes and had gotten a meeting to work with a company to see her line. If she was taken on she could have a clothing line out as soon as the Spring.

I had been around musicians for so long that it seemed second nature to brag or talk about our work. There would be a million times where someone would just pick up an instrument and other people would join in on a jam session and suddenly a song was written. Or the amount of times composition notebooks were passed around to judge song lyrics someone else had written. No one was really shy about their music because everyone had this sense that they were the best at what they did.

Y/N seemed to have a track record of people not fully believing in her. She told me about her grandparents having sent her to college to get a husband more than they had sent her to get a degree and when she had graduated with her business degree and a good job they had been proud of her but there had been this sense of failure with it. If she told them it would just feel like it was about her step away from their traditional expectations of how she should live her life. Her friends were all so wrapped up in what they were doing, most of them hanging around the scene and trying to land a rich boyfriend to take care of them that she felt like if she shared her work with them they wouldn’t understand what she was trying to do. So she kept her designs to herself, sketching out ideas and tracing out pattern designs when she was alone. She would take vacation days from work just to sew or spend whole weekends pretending she had the stomach flu to give her an escape from everyone else and just focus on something that she wanted to do.

Seeing her talk about it and feeling the sincerity of her passion coming out in her words moved me and I had to see it. I wanted to see what made her so excited and what her dreams were. It felt important to me because it made her happy.

“Do you think I could see what you’re working on?” I asked when we pulled up outside of her place. She looked at me, shocked and stared for a second before giving a slight nod as she got out of the car leading me inside the place that she lived.

It was exactly how I would imagine it to be, pictures on the wall of family and friends, fresh flowers on the counter, a coffee cup with a lipstick smear on her coffee table, and just a mess of fabric everywhere.

“Sorry for the chaos. I’ve been in a panic mood.” she confessed, clearing off the couch and starting to tidy up as I walked around, looking at some of the sketches on the wall and letting my fingers run over the clothing she had on some forms. I could feel her eyes following me, watching me as I moved around.

“You did all of this by yourself?” She nodded, those brown eyes scared as she shared with me the intimacy of her craft. The raw unfinished hems of art in progress. “You’re amazing.” her eyes widened at this and for a second I thought she was going to cry. I took a step closer to her, “You should be really proud of yourself for getting all of this done. And your work is amazing. Will you tell me more about your meeting?”

And she did. We sat on the couch, time once more seeming to melt away around us. Both of us talked about our goals and dreams. The life we wanted and just some of the things that we had dreamed about. It was easy to talk about the life that we both wanted because our puzzle pieces we wanted in our life seemed to fit together.

The sun tickled me awake, teasing me out of sleep as I woke up on a couch. I looked at my side where Y/N was tucked in, fast asleep. There was a smirk as she dreamed about something amusing, drawn over her face. Some of her dark hair had escaped the pony tail and spilled over the gentle features of her face. Absent-mindedly, I tucked them back watching amused as her nose scrunched up from my fingers.

I couldn’t remember waking up next to someone that I hadn’t had sex with. I wasn’t sure what I was even supposed to do. Could I make myself a cup of coffee? Could I sneak out and make it to the band meeting I needed to be at in thirty seven minutes? Shit.

Trying to be gentle I slowly got up from the couch, rearranging Y/N so she would stay asleep. I grabbed my jacket, laying it over her as she resettled into the spot. I wanted to stay so badly but knew that I couldn’t miss the meeting.

Finding a pen I scribbled a note, hoping that she could read my chicken scratch writing and that she saw the message before her meeting. With one last glance I looked at her before leaving the apartment.

Y/N POV

Oh man, another night on the couch. My back was protesting against my decision before I even opened my eyes. It smells like cigarettes, sweat, and cologne. It smells like Izzy. My eyes snapped open as I remembered talking to him last night. Now I’m waking wrapped in the denim jacket I tried to give him back and he’s gone. When did he leave?

Looking at the time I started rushing around, packing things up in the garment bags, getting dressed and grabbing my bag. I stopped seeing a piece of paper with different handwriting on the counter, Izzy’s name signed at the bottom.

‘Sorry for sneaking out on you well you slept, you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you. Your work is amazing and they’ll be so lucky to add your designs to the team. Good luck, Y/N. I’ll be throwing a party tonight. Here’s my address. Please come. -Izzy’

The kind words had my cheeks blazing. He believed in mr. He thought I had talent and could see the creativity and love sewn into each garment. He respected my craft and my passions. He had listened to my lamenting the night before about everything and he wanted my dreams to be realities.

The realization that I liked the guitarist started to seep in. The preconceived notions of who the band was and how they slept around was starting to slip; for the past couple weeks Izzy only had eyes for me. And when we talked it was so easy to tell him everything. At the parties and backstage Izzy had stayed away from the girls who wanted to sleep with him. He had even left to take me home. He hadn’t tried anything.

I had made this assumption about him because his band was just like everyone else. After the meeting I’d get ready and talk to him, apologize, kiss him.

Walking into the party I tried not to fidget with the leather dress. My eyes wandered around the house, I knew most of the people here but I couldn’t find Izzy.

It was twenty minutes later when I finally spotted him on the balcony. He looked uncomfortable, three girls crowded around him as he nodded his head absently. Every couple minutes he’d look up, eyes scanning the crowd before looking down at his drink, tipping it back to down the amber liquid. But the girls were going in rotation to the bar to keep them coming.

A weird cramping filled my stomach and my hands tightened in fists. The jealousy overtook me as I tried to figure out a plan.

“You’re staring at Izzy like he usually stares at you.” Looking over my shoulder I saw Axl staring past you to where his bandmate was trapped being held hostage by the hyenas. “Are you going to save him or are you going to let them take him upstairs? Better figure it out kid.” The lead singer moved away leaving me alone. I stewed in my anger, showtime.

One foot in front of another, hips swinging dangerously side to side I watched the eyes follow me. Izzy finally saw me when I got to the balcony, stepping forward to break out from his captors. My hand went to the back of his head, pulling him down a few inches to my lips and planting my lips on his. Hands slid down the smooth sides of the dress around me to my ass and back up to my lower back. Pulling away, my heart beating a million miles a minute, I looked into his shocked eyes. At least it wasn’t just me that felt the fireworks.

“I’ve had a very good day and I’m not going to let anyone ruin that.” I explained to him, flashing him a smile. Izzy cupped my cheeks, his lips hitting mine again as his body pressed me into the balcony. I could feel every part of him, hard and solid against me.

“I’ve been waiting to kiss you for weeks.” His head rested against mine and for a second I forgot that we were at a party surrounded by friends. Izzy seemed to completely forget, his eyes on me, one hand firm against my hip well the other ran through my hair.

“Did it live up to expectations?” I teased, watching the way he was looking at me. His gaze was intense and I felt like I was going to shiver despite the warmth of the night.

“It just left me hungry to kiss every inch of your body.” His words came out husky, vibrating through me and making the dress that barely covered my skin seem too hot to wear anymore.

A flip had been switched on and I couldn’t turn it off. After fighting it for weeks the feeling of Izzy’s hands in my body was exactly what I wanted.

“Are you going to fuck me like one of your groupies?” I asked, “Are we going to go upstairs and in an hour I’ll leave and never hear from you again?” His eyebrows furrowed together, confused.

“Do you think that I’m only going to take an hour with you, honey? That’s cute.” He was taking my hand, weaving us through the crowd and to his bedroom. My cheeks were burning red as he pulled us inside, locking the door behind us. “If you don’t want this, now would be the time to tell me because if you don’t say something in the next ten seconds I’m going to toss you on that bed behind you and do things with your body that I’m sure you’ve never had done before.” His eyes were staring so deeply into me, I gulped trying to picture what he had in mind but not being able to have a coherent thought.

“Why are we still in clothes?”

That was exactly the answer he was looking for. He took one step towards me, looking over my dress before spinning me around, his lips on the back of my neck kissing and biting around to my ear as his fingers pulled the zipper down, his middle finger tracing my spine as it went.

His mouth moved down, kissing until the dress was off, biting my ass cheek as I stepped from the dress. Izzy was on his knees behind me and I felt disoriented that I couldn’t see him.

“Bend over for me. Put your elbows out so you’re comfortable, Y/N. Good job, honey.” Licking my lips I followed his instructions and my body position ass up off the bed.

Hands on my hips rolled my underwear down, pulling it off as well as sliding off my heels. I felt on display, like I was his toy to play with. The idea of it having me bite my lip.

“Look at your pretty pussy.” His finger traced the outside lips, a whimper rolling out of my mouth, “I’m going to take care of you, honey. Don’t worry about that. Let me just enjoy the sight of you and learn your body, okay?” I nodded wishing I could turn and look at him. He rubbed his hands over my ass, pushing my stomach down and arching me higher. His hands went down again, pushing my legs open.

The way that Izzy made a hissing sound followed by a low grunt had me wondering what he was doing.

“Izzy, I can’t see what you’re doing.” I whined out trying to turn. A soft smack on my ass had me freezing in place.

“Do you want me to describe everything to you?” His voice seemed deeper, husky and needy now. “I’m going to get undressed .” The sound of a fly going down, a belt buckle unclipping and the sound of clothes being tossed aside confirmed this. “Now, I’m going to get on my knees behind you and play with your pussy. It’s so juicy and wet I’m going to pump out some of the juices like this.”

Two fingers stretched me open, surging me forward. Izzy moved his fingers quickly for a second, curling them inside to rub against the swell inside of my body. He pulled them out after a second and I heard a slurping sound and a groan of appreciation. I could picture him tasting me off himself and moaning softly into the bed sheets.

“I’m going to get more of your wet pussy juice and use it to stroke my hard cock. Is that okay, honey?” I squeaked out a yes, feeling his two fingers teasing at my hole. My body pushed back, wanting to feel full of him again, “What was that?” He kissed my thigh, wet grin the juices he had just been working from inside of me.

“Please, Izzy. I want you to pump your cock with my wet pussy.” My heart was beating so loudly. I was so horny and just wanted him to work the orgasm from my body. I felt comfortable and trusted him with myself, feeling like he wouldn’t abuse the power in a way I didn’t like.

His fingers were once more inside of me, working at me again. My hands gripped the sheets, trying not to push back against him but I could feel the rocking in my hips.

“Do you need to cum? Am I not finger fucking you hard enough? Let me use my mouth. I’ll fuck you with my tongue and suck on that little swollen clit.” His fingers left my body and I whimpered. I could hear this wet grunting and knew he was fisting his cock as he played with me. “You have me so hard.”

“So fuck me.” I said panting. It felt like he kept getting me so close and stopping. I could feel the quivering in my legs and knew I was more than ready to cum.

“Patience. You made me be patient for you now you be a good girl and let me taste you. I want to lap up your sticky pussy juices before I bury my cock into you.” At the idea of his cock in me I could feel the tightening in my belly.

“Holy-“ I couldn’t finish my sentence. His warm tongue swiped over me, twirling around my home, dancing into my pussy and licking my walls before sliding out down to my slit where his perfect lips wrapped around it like a kiss before his tongue spun around it sucking and pulling it in his mouth.

I was rocking again, over-stimulated and wanting to orgasm more and more. My mind was blank, a coherent thought no longer feasible.

“You can cum for me. I’ll keep sucking and licking you and right at your peak I’m going to push my cock all the way in. You’re going to keep pushing back just like you’re doing now in it, Cumming against my cock and letting me drain myself inside you.” He whispered as he laid these over stimulating kisses over my glistening cunt. His tongue swiped down into me again, then a flat stroke over me and up to my clit. I felt his tongue slide around it sucking the small ball until I was shaking from the orgasm.

Izzy was quick to slide inside me, filling me with his cock, stretching it as he fucked me, dragging out my orgasm as my wetness slid down my thighs over his balls and on his own legs.

“That’s a good girl, cumming so hard against my cock.” His hands were on my hips as I pushed back wanting him to keep fucking me. My hands on the small of my waist helped to pull me back and keep me dripping over every inch of him.

The low groan he gave out let me know he was close and I squeezed, pushing myself back up on my elbows tk throw it back. His hand slid down to my ass smacking it knee again before hands were digging on my hip, his balls slapping my enforced clit as he shuddered inside me.

Izzy stayed like that for a second, both of us panting and gasping for air. He pulled out with a satisfied groan falling beside me on the bed and dragging me close to him in the bed.

His lips were on my head, soft kisses and hair strokes soothing me. Izzy dragged a bed sheet over us, his arms returning to wrap around me. I felt exhausted, safe, comfortable and something deeper for him. A new connection beyond just the carnal pleasure we just had.

“Do you want to stay here for the night? We can do brunch in the morning and you can tell me all about your meeting?” He had remembered the most important step in my career and was making time for me to tell him more about it.

I pulled him into another kiss, his lips tasted like me and I knew we weren’t going to leave this bed until that brucnh he was talking about.

#izzy stradlin #Imagine #request #Izzy straddlin request #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin imagine #Izzy stradlin headcanon #gnr imagine #gnr fanfiction #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #fanfic #izzy stradlin fanfic

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spencerreidsconverse · 3 years

Text

Connection

summary: When Spencer and Reader meet, they connect almost instantly. When she is kidnapped later that night it's up to Spencer and his team to find her.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: criminal minds style violence, swearing, brief mentions of parental issues.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: I got hit with a massive block halfway through this so it took forever to finish. I hope you all enjoy it!!

The lights were dim when you finally managed to pry open your eyes. You felt a splitting ache in the back of your head and your hands were tied tight behind the back of the chair you were restrained to. A feeling of panic rose through your chest as you pulled at the restraints, ripping the skin of your wrists as you struggled. You gave up after a few minutes when you heard movement from above you. It was then you began to truly examine your surroundings. You were in a basement of some sort you decided. It smelled of mildew and the only light was from the small hopper window to your left. Too high for you to get out of, even if you used the chair you realized with a grimace. Still, it would help you keep track of time. It was pitch black out save for the streetlamp a few feet away. You shuddered at the thought of being here for days or weeks.

You tried to think back on your day, and how you ended up here. As far as you knew, nothing unusual happened that morning. You remembered the two FBI agents, a small blonde woman and a tall lanky man with light brown curls and a beautiful face. who stopped by your cafe to ask you if you had seen a man they had been looking for. They told you he had been targeting women business owners around town. You looked at the few images they had, most of which were blurry enough you had trouble making out his features. Still, his face didn’t ring any bells. You apologized for not being able to help and the blonde agent whose name you couldn’t quite recall (Jergen maybe?) encouraged you to be safe before they left. The rest of your day continued as normal, until that evening. Your employees had left for the night and you were finishing up your inventory when you heard a knock on the glass.

You turned around to see the tall agent from earlier waiting outside. You rushed to let him in and he gave you a sheepish look. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were closed. I’m desperate for some coffee other than the burnt pot at the station. Is there any chance you have some left?”. I nodded and stepped aside to let him in relocking the door behind him. “Yeah, come on in. Is there anything in particular you’d like? I can make you something with espresso if you’d prefer” “Oh no, I don’t want to inconvenience you any further” Your smile grew at his politeness “It’s no trouble! I still have the machine open since I’ll be here for a while.” he nodded at that and copied your expression. “Alright, can I have a double shot latte with extra chocolate and vanilla syrup?” You shook your head and let out a small giggle. “Do you actually like coffee? Or are you just desperate for energy?” He laughed at your question “You caught me. I like a little coffee with my sugar. I usually just drown the police station coffee with stevia but I need something good.” You nodded along as you steamed the milk for his latte.

He had a troubled look on his face. He seemed far away like his brain was disconnected from his body. “I know we just met but are you okay? You seem kinda zoned out.” He locked eyes with you and it was silent for a moment before he answered. “Yeah… I just feel kinda burnt out I guess.” You sat the mug down in front of him, along with a large double chocolate muffin. He eyed you, but before he could argue about it you spoke “You seem like you need it. I really don’t mind.” He quietly thanked you before sipping the drink. He let out a soft sigh and he looked genuinely content for a few moments. He looked at you again and you suddenly felt like you were being examined. “Sorry”, he said noticing your discomfort, “You’re just interesting to me.” “Interesting how?” You felt your cheeks heat up. His gaze still didn’t drop but a soft smile met his eyes. “You’re kind but still stubborn. When we were here earlier you were insistent on answering our questions in your office only. When we told you that the man was going after women business owners you were genuinely concerned, but now you’re here alone at almost 11 at night. You let me in immediately when I showed up, but locked the door and reset your security alarm behind me. You’re worried about your safety but still here, alone.”. You pursed your lips at his analysis before letting out a long breath. “Yeah, I guess I care about my business more than my own life.” You laughed awkwardly at your failed attempt to lighten the mood. He continued to look into your eyes and you were hit with a deeply intimate feeling. It felt like he was staring into your soul and instead of running away, he was running towards it. You internally scoffed at your emotions. This strange man comes into your coffee shop and you start to fall for him and instead of changing the subject, you told him the truth.

“I didn’t want my employees to overhear us. I don’t want them to worry about anything, most of them are college kids with enough on their plate as it is. Plus it’d give them another reason to be on my case about staying here so late.” You did genuinely laugh at that. “We’re like a family here. Half of them call me mama. More than once I’ve opened my door to them and helped them get back on their feet.” He smiled with me at that. “I’m usually here this late. I suppose you could consider me a workaholic but I think any good business owner has to be. This cafe is my first baby. I’ve put blood, sweat, and tears into it. To be honest, it’s probably more secure here than it is at my apartment.” He looked at you with what you thought was admiration. Maybe it was concern. You talked for a while longer about your lives. He was from Vegas but lives in DC now. You told him you had moved to DC on a whim. You needed a new start and DC held a lot of promise in the form of an abandoned building with a low down payment. You talked about his work as an agent and his love of literature.

You asked about his parents and he grew quiet. He asked about yours and for the first time in what felt like hours, you dropped my head and avoided his eyes. He sipped at his coffee for a minute while you sat in silence until a shrill ringing made you jump and he reached into his pocket, “Hello? Yeah, Emily... Okay. Okay, I will. Yeah.” He hung up his phone and returned it to his pocket before catching your eyes. “I have to go but I really appreciate you letting me in. Thanks for the coffee.” He stood, made his way to the door quickly unlocking it and letting himself out, leaving you to wonder what he meant by letting him in. You packed up after that and a few minutes later you started the quick walk to your apartment.

You tried to remember past that. You never made it home. You cursed yourself for deciding to not waste the money on the cab. The sky looked like it was starting to lighten. Again, the noise started from upstairs and you heard a door swing open. A man came down a set of steps and flicked a light switch. You shut your eyes and slowly reopened them as they began to adjust. You tried to recognize the man in front of you but still came up blank. He matched the guy in the pictures but other than that you couldn’t place him. “It’s nice to see you Y/N. I’m glad you’re doing well.” His voice carried a condescending tone, and it mde your stomach lurch. “How do you know my name?” You demanded. You refused to show fear to this poor excuse of a man. “What, you don’t remember me? I wish I could say I was surprised. You never did care though so I suppose I knew that was coming.” You strained your brain to try and remember this kid. And a kid he was, he didn’t look any older than 20.

“What’s your name?” you tried again with a softer tone. “Jacob. Jacob Knighter.” He watched your face for any sign of recognition and when he didn’t see it, he rolled his eyes. “Of course you have no idea who I am. I’ve been leaving you clues and everything. I tried to tell you I was coming and you completely ignored it.” “Wait, you… killed all these women because of me?” “Oh don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t just to warn you. I needed the practice. This had to be perfect and there was only one way to better my skills.” His words made your stomach turn and you could feel the bile rise in the back of your throat. You choked it down and stared back at him. “Jacob, I don’t know what I did to hurt you but I’m sure we can talk about this. Let me make this right, you don’t have to do this.” He scoffed before stepping towards you, getting close enough the tilt the chair back. You wrinkled your nose as you smelled the alcohol on his breath. He was so close you could almost taste it yourself.

“You don’t have to do this” he mocked you in a high-pitched, whiny voice. “You know nothing about what I’ve had to do. This is your fault. You could have helped me and you chose not to.” He wrapped his hand around your throat and you felt the heat rise to your face. You jerked against him trying helplessly to get away before he finally let go. You let out several sputtering coughs, trying desperately to catch your breath. He laughed at you and your brain swam with rage as fought against your restraints, ignoring the sting of your skin. “Let me go you piece of shit! I didn’t do anything to you! I don’t know you!” His face quickly turned dark and you felt your adrenaline fade and panic begin to set in. You were in real danger here and no one knew where you were. “You’re going to regret this Y/N. You’re going to wish you had helped me when you could have. Now it’s too late and you have to suffer the consequences.” He turned and shut the light back off before storming up the steps and slamming the door. This time you heard the click as three separate bolts were locked into place.

Even with the light off, the room was brighter than it had been. The sky had turned a light grey and soon the sun would rise. You should be opening the shop right now. In twenty minutes or so your morning shift employees would arrive to a locked door and hopefully be reaching out to find out where you went. All you could do now is wait. Your head was still pounding and even though you had just woken up a few hours prior, the sudden lack of adrenaline left you unable to fight the urge to close your eyes, and in a few seconds, you were out cold.

“Spencer, would you please relax? We will find her.” Emily was doing her best to comfort him but spencer continued to pace the room, trying to make sense of it all. “Emily I hadn’t even been gone 15 minutes. In the fifteen minutes between me leaving and her leaving she was kidnapped and now we have no idea how to help her. We don’t know where she is or how to find her.” Spencer had told the team about the late-night conversation you’d had after he’d come in from a break to find Penelope reciting information about the latest missing person. He told Emily about the connection he felt and now he was watching it all fall apart in front of him. Emily tried to calm him down enough to be able to pick his brain but with every breath, he just kept ranting. “She’s such a kind person too, her employees care about her. She said she’s even housed a few of them from time to time. She talks about them like we talk about each other. They’re family!”

Emily froze. “She’s housed them? Is that a well-known fact?” Spencer stared at her for a few seconds before shrugging. “Probably. She didn’t say it like she was revealing anything. Why does that matter? The unsub’s not taking them to their own houses.” Emily shook her head, shocked that spencer was unable to connect the dots. “No, but we did say we thought the unsub was targeting women for reasons other than sexism. What if they’re surrogates? The criminal sophistication matches the average age of Y/N’s employees. Maybe she turned down an applicant who was in a rough spot and now he’s seeking revenge.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he followed Emily’s conclusion and they both rushed to Garcia. “Penelope” Emily called “Can you pull up recent applications for Y/N’s business? We think the unsub might have been rejected and now he’s going after her.” Penelope nodded and began typing, her fingers flying too fast on the keyboard for even Spencer to keep up with. “Here we go, the recent applicants for Cherry Juice, which is an odd name for a coffee shop if you ask me.” “Actually, it makes sense given that the fruit of a coffee tree is known as a cherry. Each cherry contains two coffee beans or a peaberry.” Emily ignored Spencer’s facts and reclaimed Penelope’s attention. “Penelope, can you run background checks on all of the male applicants? See if any of them had filed for unemployment or applied for housing in low-income areas.” “You got it!”

Spencer wandered off towards the break room to pour himself another cup of bitter coffee, feeling pain rip through his chest as he stared down at the dark liquid. He was completely off-put by the intensity of the feelings he had for you. He had just met you! Why was he so concerned for your wellbeing? Emily had told him that it was from being the last one to see you, but he knew it was deeper than that. Had he really managed to fall for someone in two hours? He ran out of time to ponder the idea any further because JJ stuck her head in the room. “Spence, we got the guy. You coming?” He turned towards her and nodded once, rushing out of the room, the mug of coffee abandoned on the counter.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you awoke to a man yelling upstairs. A few seconds after you opened your eyes, the door swung open and Jacob rushed down. “Shut up. Don’t say a fucking word, you hear me? I’ll fucking kill you.” You widened your eyes and nodded in agreement. You were confused but complied. It wasn’t until you heard the front door bust open that you realized what was happening. Someone had found you. “Y/N?” You heard spencer shout your name. You opened your mouth to scream when you felt Jacob close his hand over your mouth and nose. You panicked and fought against him struggling for air. Your vision began to go fuzzy around the edges. You thought you heard the door open but before you could tell the world went dark.

When you woke up, you were on the floor in a different room of the house and an EMT was wrapping your wrists while another was checking your vitals. “Spencer..” You tried to twist your head but the EMT stopped you. “Ma’am we have to finish checking you over.” You were annoyed but allowed him to finish his job. The sooner they were done the sooner you could attempt to find him. After your wrists were bandaged and they were sure you hadn’t suffered from any respiratory damage they helped you slowly to your feet and told you that if you had any problems to visit the emergency room. You agreed and thanked the two men before making your way out the front door. You tried to move faster but your legs felt like jelly after being tied up for so long. When you made your way to the front yard you saw two black SUVs that screamed government official. You scanned the small crowd of agents and officers who stood in between the vehicles before your eyes found the back of his head.

You began your half-limp walk over when a woman with a dark bob cut and bangs nudged Spencer’s side. He turned around and a look of euphoria washed over his face when he saw you. He ran over to you, saving your legs from the strain of the uneven ground. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. Even though you felt like you were hugging a brick because of his vest, you tightened your own grip around him. He smelled like stale coffee and sweat but to you, it was the smell of relief. You finally felt safe, you knew nothing could hurt you while you were in his arms. After several seconds, he loosened his grip on you just enough for you to pull your head back to meet his gaze. “I’m so sorry Y/N. I should have made sure you had gotten home safe.” “Spencer, you have no reason to apologize. You were just doing your job, and you saved me.” “Well, actually that was my team. I was too worried to be much of a help.” he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks turning a dusty pink. “Spencer, without you talking to me you wouldn’t have known anything about me except for my legal forms. You knew who I am.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up but before he could say anything else, a man from the group cleared his throat causing Spencer to look back to them. “Um Y/N would you like to meet my team?” You were startled by the question. However, you knew they were all close and if you had any hope of seeing Spencer again, his team might be a good way to start. “Yeah, sure. I’d love to.” He half supported your walk as you made your way down the driveway. Your legs felt like jelly and you couldn’t decide whether it was from being tied down or if it was nerves. You reached the group of agents and you were a little taken aback. Was it a requirement of the FBI to be dropdead gorgeous? You barely had time to process it when the dark-haired woman reached her hand out and you took it. “Hi Y/N. I’m Emily Prentiss. This is JJ, Luke, Matt, Tara, and Dave.” You smiled and waved politely as she introduced each of the team’s members. “And of course you’ve already met our resident genius.” You looked up to the man beside you who was once again blushing and scratching the back of his neck. “It’s nice to meet you all. I’m incredibly thankful that you were here. I mean obviously, you just saved my life..” you trailed off and shook your head a few times. You felt insanely flustered trying to thank them. “It’s our job Y/N, you really don’t need to thank us. Are you feeling okay?” The blond woman, JJ you now knew her as reassured you. Her nurturing tone was almost enough to reduce you to tears but you choked it down. “Thanks to you all, I am.” They all smiled, and Emily told Spencer they were going to wrap up back at the station.

“Y/N would you like a ride home?” I was shocked but grateful and accepted Emily’s offer. I told her the street address and a few minutes later we had arrived at my building. I thanked them again and climbed out of the SUV. I made my way towards the entrance when I noticed Spencer climbing out of the vehicle. “Spencer, shouldn’t you be helping them finish up the case?” “They’ll be alright without me, I wanted to make sure you got settled in alright.” You blushed and nodded, buzzing into the building and leading him to the elevators. “Are you sure you don’t need to go? I’ll be okay.” Spencer shook his head. “No, really it’s okay. I want to make sure you’re okay.” You were touched by the sentiment and tried not to feel guilty about pulling him away from his work. You reached into your purse that he had returned to you and dug for your keys. Once you got the door open, you led him into the living room where you set your bag down and pulled your sneakers off.

You watched Spencer as he slowly moved throughout your space, committing everything you owned to memory. After several minutes of watching him, you broke the comfortable silence with a yawn. He immediately turned to you as if he was just reminded of your presence. “You need to rest Y/N. You’ve been through a lot.” “I don’t want to sleep.” “Why not?” You pondered the question for a second before you decided to tell him the truth. “I don’t want to wake up and have this be a dream…” You trailed off sadly, imagining going the rest of your life without him. You had only known him for a few hours but it felt like a lifetime. “Y/N… I’d like to see you again if that’s alright - I mean if you’d like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you. You nodded enthusiastically. “I’d love to see you again Spence!” You scrambled around before you found your notepad and scribbled your phone number down on the top page, adding a heart at the end. You walked over to where he was stood studying the photos hanging on your wall next to the door.

“Here you go, call me sometime when you’re free okay?” He smiled and folded it before placing it safely in his pocket. He stared into your eyes, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “Y/N… You’re really beautiful, you know that?” Your cheeks tinged with pink and you tried to look away but his hand held you still, lingering on your cheek. “Aphrodite would be so jealous she’d smite you where you stood.” You giggled and before he could overthink, he touched his lips to yours. You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. After a few minutes, he pulled away and smiled at you. “I have to go now, unfortunately. The team will hate me if I write off a cab on FBI money. I’ll call you okay? Soon. Get some rest, you need it.” You nodded and leaned up to brush your lips against his once more. “I will. I’ll see you soon Spence.” He kissed your cheek as he opened the door behind him. “Sweet dreams Carissima. I’ll see you soon.” He shut the door behind him and you locked it before making your way to bed. You stripped off your clothes and left them in a pile on the floor. You climbed in between your sheets and closed your eyes, quickly drifting off and into dreams filled with Spencer.

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