#I'm starving for content with all the deadly sins

[petitprincess1]

[Luci tucking Bel in after a long shift]

Satan: What in the Seven Rings are ya doin'? She's a centuries old goddess! Fuck's sake, Lu, treat her like one!

Lucifer:

Lucifer: If you wanna be tucked in too, you could've just asked.

Satan:

Satan: *pouts*

[lu-is-not-ok]

Lu's Guide to Sin Analysis

Welp, since my brain is too focused on having K Corp Hong Lu go full unga bunga in Mirror Dungeons to write full analyses, I decided I might as well give something else to all the people starving for Limbus Theory content.

So, here we are. A basic guide on how I approach the Sin Analysis portion of my analyses, covering my personal interpretations for each Sin, as well as how to use those when analysing both E.G.Os and Identities.

That way, ya'll can dabble in doing some of this on your own when I'm too busy grinding my way to 400 hours of play time on Limbus to write up full analyses.

Sounds good? Awesome. Under the cut we go, wheeeee!

Sin Interpretations

Let's start with the most important part - the Sins themselves.

I want you to take a moment and think about your own associations with those Sins. Perhaps your immediate thought is to take the words used literally. Maybe you immediately think back to the Biblical ideas of the Seven Deadly Sins. Mayhaps there's some other media you know that also uses Sins in some way, which you subconsciously default to when thinking about them.

Whatever those associations are, I want you to throw them away.

That's right. Whatever is telling you that Lust = Horny, Wrath = Angry, Envy = Jealous, etc, etc? Throw all of those preconcieved notions away.

This is the biggest mistake I see people make when trying to analyse Identities and E.G.O based on their Sins - they assume that those Sins have the same meanings in the context of Limbus as the popular, more common interpretations of them.

And while, sure, some of them can definitely overlap with what one would expect them to be, I think relying on those during analysis instead of trying to understand what the game itself is trying to tell us by using those Sins as symbols is doing its storytelling a massive disservice.

Do I think my personal interpretations of the Sins are a 100% accurate reading? No, of course not. I can't see into the mind of Kim Ji-Hoon or whoever else at Project Moon might have been the mastermind behind deciding what Sins connect to what. I have no way of knowing what exactly they intended here.

However, I do wish to believe that my interpretations not only strive to meet the game's storytelling on its own terms, but also hopefully make further analysis based on those interpretations a bit easier to wrap one's head around.

...God I really need to stop writing massive preambles and just get to the fucking point.

So let's actually get to The Fucking Point. Sin Interpretations, one by one. Let's fucking do it.

Wrath

The flames of revolution burn bright in the face of cold winds.

Wrath is the Sin of self-righteousness and defiance. To act with Wrath is to decide that one deserves better, that things around then should bend to their will, and then take matters into their own hands. It's the Sin of deciding one has the right to change something simply because they don't like the current state of things.

There are many ways one can act because of Wrath. It can show through trying to rebel against authority, to subvert one's fate, to escape one's unfavorable circumstances, or to even reject one's own true nature. To act with Wrath is to stand up for oneself and tell reality "No, I refuse!" loud and clear.

A common misconception of Wrath is the idea that anger is an inherent part of it. While it's true that those feelings often coincide with defiance, they're not required for one's acts to be fueled by Wrath. Some can be Wrathful while being completely calm and collected, as their acts of defiance could be more on the quiet and simmering side.

Likewise, being quick to anger isn't always a sign of Wrath. It's very possible for someone to have a short temper, while also being fully accepting of the reality they live in (Ryoshu, I am looking directly at you), thus lacking Wrath.

Lust

One's base insticts go all the way back to that genetic code.

Lust is the Sin of self-indulgence. It's the Sin of letting one's own desires and whims dictate one's actions. It's also the Sin of seeking personal fulfillment above all else. To act with Lust is to give up one's self-control and let one's instincts and wants guide them.

Unlike what the name and symbol might initially imply, Lust can include many different types of desires, not just the carnal.

Likewise, acts of Lust can be just as varied as one's desires. Satisfying one's most basic of needs, searching for a form of spiritual enlightenment, or even just saying the first thing that comes to mind because one feels like it are just a few examples.

Sloth

A stone will not care for what happens to it, nor the world around it.

Sloth is the Sin of apathy and resignation. Unlike other Sins, which mostly show through one's direct actions, Sloth can also show through inaction.

To act with Sloth is to ignore reality, to let oneself go along with whatever is happening with barely any complaints. As such, Sloth is commonly associated with blind obedience or unwillingness to act out.

Due to its nature as a Sin of resignation, Sloth can be seen as the direct opposite of Wrath, the Sin of defiance. This creates a unique situation where the inclusion of one can drastically shift the context of the other if both are a part of the same Identity or E.G.O.

Gluttony

Plants never stop waging wars, always wanting just a little bit more.

Gluttony is the Sin of hunger, and it's unique from the other Sins in that it equally represents two different ideas of that hunger, which can appear together just as often as they can be completely seperated.

The first type of Gluttony is one of the starving hunger of survival. In this context, to act with Gluttony is to do anything for the sake of scraping by and living to see another day.

The second type of Gluttony is the hunger for more, or in other words: greed. In this context, to act with Gluttony is to do everything for the sake of this idea of "more". To gain more wealth, to find more recognition, to make more progress.

Both of these types of Gluttony are unified in one main point - they are, by definition, endless. The struggle for survival never ends, unless one fails to survive. Likewise, there is no finite "more" that greed is reaching towards, it's a neverending process of one-upmanship.

Gloom

When a wave of emotion rises, many will be swept away in its wake.

Gloom is the Sin of dwelling on feelings. To act with Gloom is to be guided by one's negative emotions, to buckle under stress and let it control one's mind and actions.

While sadness, grief, and depression are the states of mind most commonly associated with Gloom, and are often a part of it, they're not inherent to it. The only "requirement" here is the experience of severe emotional duress, and acting out in direct response to it.

In a way, Gloom is the Sin of losing control over oneself, not dissimilar to Lust. However, the main difference here is the cause of losing that control. Gloom is the loss of self-control due to being overwhelmed by negative experiences, while Lust is the loss of self-control due to seeking out positive experiences.

Pride

Be careful, for that double-edged sword may cut you as well.

Pride is the Sin of ignoring consequences. Acts of Pride are all actions taken because of the belief that their benefits outweigh the cost in some way. While the most common way this can present is through actions that benefit oneself at the cost of others, it's not the only way Pride can manifest.

One can be Prideful when believing the benefit to many outweighs the consequences. Likewise, refusing to acknowledge the harm one brings to themself because their actions benefit them in some other way also counts as Pride.

The idea that Pride is inherently tied to selfishness or self-confidence is another common misconception. In fact, Prideful acts can manifest just as often from a lack of self-confidence or a misguided selflessness. Rather, one could interpret Pride as a form of willful ignorance, in a way.

Envy

Thorns don't go out of their way to harm, they merely react to your touch.

Envy is the Sin of reaction and retribution. It's the idea of doing something because of what someone else has done. By definition, one cannot act with Envy without some form of provocation.

Like is the case with many other Sins, acts of Envy can take many forms, from taking revenge to following orders. The main connecting idea here is letting oneself be influenced by another person, whether it's being coerced, provoked, ordered, or otherwise manipulated.

Out of all of the Sin misconceptions, seeing Envy as inherently tied to jealousy might be the worst one of all. While acts done out of jealousy would likely count as acts of Envy, they are but a miniscule part of the sheer scope that Envy represents.

...

Alright, so you know what each of those Sins means. Now it's time to figure out how to Actually Apply Them.

Sin Affinities in the context of Identities

The main way Sins play a role in a given Sinner's Identity is through their Sin Affinities. Mechanically, these are the Sins attributed to each of their skills, signifying both their type of Sin damage and what Sin resource they generate upon being used.

However, this is Project Moon we're talking about, and these fuckers can't keep their gameplay mechanics seperate from the story to save their lives.

So, this begs the question: what can we learn about a Sinner's given Identity through their Sin Affinities?

Here is the method that I believe works best in my experience:

The Sin affinities of each of an Identity's skills represent a different layer of their psyche and motivations. I'm going to try to show what I mean by using base Identities of the four Sinners who already had their own Canto.

Skill 1's Sin Affinity is the surface level motivation of the Sinner's actions. This is the most obvious and "shallow" reading of them and their actions, and also likely the one the Sinners themselves are most aware of.

Gregor's Skill 1 is Gloom due to him being constatly haunted by his trauma, with much of his cynicism and dark-ish sense of humor being shaped by his war experiences. Rodya's Skill 1 is Gluttony due to her tendency to value material goods and love for food, which are signs of her greed and will to survive respectively. Sinclair's Skill 1 is Pride due to him taking many actions (such as sharing his father's secrets or giving Kromer his basement key) for their immediate benefits, without considering the consequences. Yi Sang's Skill 1 is Gloom due to him falling into deep depression and letting the trauma of the past shape his current actions.

Skill 2's Sin Affinity is a deeper motivation of the Sinner's actions. It's delving deeper into their psyche to see what guides them in less obvious ways. This Sin Affinity can also have noticeably closer ties to the Sinner's background in one way or another.

Gregor's Skill 2 is Gluttony due to him being driven by the will to survive, most notably expressed by him leaving the rest of the veterans to escape the war and try to live after it ended. Rodya's Skill 2 is Pride due to her fully believing in what she does working out in her favor, completely ignoring consequences on the way. Her killing the pawnbroker is the biggest example of an act of Pride, as she fully believed that it would help her neighbourhood despite the consequences that murder would bring. Sinclair's Skill 2 is Wrath due to him not accepting his circumstances. His want to defy his future prosthetics procedure is what eventually led him to agreeing with Kromer, and his will to defy her is what drove him through the events of his chapter. Yi Sang's Skill 2 is Envy due to his passive nature and how easily he lets other people dictate his actions. It's especially notable in how after the League fell apart, he would have been willing to do anything Gubo told him at that moment.

Skill 3's Sin Affinity is what I would like to call a Sinner's Core Sin. It's the true main reason behind their actions, and has a much closer and direct tie into their past than the other Sin Affinities. In a way, this is the deepest layer of their psyche.

Gregor's Skill 3 is Sloth as his resignation to his circumstances is what colors much of his past. He learned that resistance is futile early in life, and it shows. Though he didn't want to fight in the war, he felt like he had no choice but to. All of his life, he simply listened to orders without complaint, unable to see a way to change his situation. Rodya's Skill 3 is Wrath as her self-righteousness and defiance is what drove her actions at the deepest level. She first joined the Yurodiviye because she wanted to bring change the state of her neighbourhood, and likewise left them when she no longer agreed with how they did things. Her murder of the pawnbroker was her biggest act of defiance, of taking matters into her own hands and trying to bring change to her reality at all cost. Sinclair's Skill 3 is Envy as much of his actions were dictated by other people. Social pressure was what led to him first breaching the trust of his family, and Kromer's coercion and manipulation is what then led to his family's death. In a way, you could also interpret Sinclair's arc in Canto III as one big act of Envy, as he finally tries to take revenge on Kromer for what she has done. Yi Sang's Skill 3 is Sloth as his apathy to the reality around him is what led to him ignoring the warnings signs of the League falling apart, and the resignation that followed could have resulted in him helping Gubo and the New League out with their horrible plans had there not been an intervention. It's only by the end of Canto IV that he finally manages to break out of this state for long enough to stand up for himself and decide to keep on living.

So, that's the basics of Sin Affinities when it comes to Identities! Now, some of you might be asking, "Hey Lu, what about Sin resources needed for Passives?", and my answer to that is...

Honestly, I don't entirely know! I do think there probably is some reason beyond pure gameplay mechanics... Buuuuut I don't think their importance is as major as the main Sin Affinities of a given Identity, especially since there isn't a single Passive that is activated by a Sin that the given Identity doesn't have any Affinity to.

Sin Affinities in the context of E.G.Os

Alright, so, when it comes to E.G.O, we run into some additional complexities. Unlike Identities, which can usually have their Sins Analysed with minimal additional context, E.G.O Sin Analysis has to be done under a specific angle.

This is because while Identities represent the Sinner as a whole person, E.G.Os represent a specific singular part of that Sinner.

Base E.G.Os usually seem to tie back to a specific event or action or some other thing in that Sinner's past. Likewise, E.G.Os derived from Abnormalities represent the ways that Sinner connects to that Abnormality's own themes.

In a way, the game's worldbuilding even acknowledges the fact that a Sinner can only use the E.G.O of an Abnormality they relate to in some way, as Dante's Notes describe the process of the Sinners using E.G.O as trying to make the Abnormality's emotions and identity their own.

That little tangent aside, there are two main things to analyze sin-wise when it comes to E.G.O - the Sin Affinity, and the Sin Resources necessary to use that E.G.O.

An E.G.O Sin Affinity works similarly to an Identity's Sin Affinities - for a Base E.G.O, it's the main Sin that action manifests as. For an Abno-derived E.G.O, it's the Sin that contextulizes the way the Abno's themes connect to the Sinner in question.

The Sin Resources an E.G.O needs is where things get fun. These are what a Sinner needs to be able to use the E.G.O, both mechanically AND story-wise. The Sins here represent what a Sinner has as their motivation and drive to fully reflect what that E.G.O represents. For Base E.G.Os, it's why they took the actions they did. For Abno E.G.Os, it's why they connect to that Abno's themes and why they're able to relate to it.

Now... There is one more thing about E.G.Os that I don't really talk about.

Sin Resistances.

The reason why I don't talk about them... Is because I have No Fucking Clue how to interpret them. There has to be some importance to them (Hong Lu being weak to Wrath in all of his E.G.O thus far, I am looking at you), I just don't know what it is. In fact, I doubt we even have enough information available to us right now to be able to say for sure.

I don't know how to end these posts dear fucking lord-

So uh. Yeah. That's. Everything that I think is important to mention on the topic of Sin Analysis and how I do it. If I ever change my mind on something or have an epiphany regarding one of the things I currently have no idea about, I'll probably reblog this post with an addendum or something, but until then...

Uh. Yeah. Hope this helps the people who wanna get into analyzing Limbus stuff but don't know where to begin. Or just people who wanna understand the method to my madness a little bit better.

I'm gonna go to sleep now, cause it's 4 AM already and I spent like the whole fucking night writing this post.

[luvyeni]

LUST. ( s. johnny )

pairing. incubus!johnny suh x fem!reader contains. 18+ mature content , oral (f. receiving), squirting , dubcon (reader is technically asleep) wc. 0.4k author’s note. 7 deadly sins masterlist here !

he was finally getting what he want. "i've been wishing for this day." sneaking into your dreams night by night , slowly corrupting you , touching you , making you want him so bad that you'd beg him to give you that sweet release — and that's exactly what he wants , he wants your release.

"been starving myself for this baby." he left little burning kisses against your neck , all the way down , lifting up your sleep shirt. "no panties baby?" he chuckled. "you were waiting for me " you nodded , your pussy was dripping , he couldn't wait to get a taste of your sweet nectar.

"you're gonna give me everything you have , right pretty?" you squirmed against the bed. "y-yes , please." he wasn't gonna wait anymore , licking your folds. "fuck!" you moaned , he pulled away. "you taste so fucking good." he dove right back in.

you felt like you were floating , his skills were like magic — he didn't seem real. "fe-feels so good." you bucked your hips up into his mouth , grabbing his hair. "fu-fuck im gonna cum." you moaned.

"fuck!" you tensed up , clenching around his tongue , cumming. he could feel himself getting full from your juices — but he needed more.

you began to feel overstimulation , you pushed at his head. "i-i came." you looked down , your eyes widened at the sight.

the man before you had transformed , horns adorned his head. his eyes were a yellow color , his fingers that were once normal , now sharp and pointy talons gripping your thighs.

he smirked against your dripping pussy , his fucking into your hole. you should've been scared , you should've pushed him away , but the way his eyes stayed on yours , it was like you were under a spell. "oh fuck." you slammed your head against the pillow.

"i-im gonna cum again!" he pulled away , rubbing your clit. "i want you to squirt for me." his voice was deeper. "i know you can do it." he rubbed harsher circles on your bud.

you felt the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening — until it snap , your eyes rolled to the back of your head , your legs shook as your orgasm washed over you , he opened his mouth excepting everything.

he gave your sensitive bud a kiss , his lips swollen and wet , as he pulled away. "fuck pretty , i think im addicted to you." he chuckled.

"w-what are you?" you questioned once you finally came down. "i'm a demon baby , a sex demon." he said. "d-demon , what's your name?" he chuckled. "what?"

"you ask a lot of questions, it doesn't matter baby , but it's johnny." he said , you were confused. "why doesn't it matter?"

"because you won't remember this when you wake up."

©️LUVYENI

[tss-whumper]

egotistical - a sanders sides whump oneshot

(this was requested by a few of my friends, and inspired by an interaction i had while talking about roman in a discord server!)

summary: "Uh oh, better not give Roman a compliment. It'll stroke his ego, and we don't need that!". Roman is used to being the butt of the joke, the clown, the silly ingenue, the stupid prince. But what happens when the constant mistreatment and berating break him down past repair? After all, the ego needs praise and approval to survive. If Roman is constantly starved of the one thing he desires more than anything else, then he might just shut down.

word count: 4.4k

content warnings: verbal abuse, manipulation, all of the sides can be considered unsympathetic except for roman, virgil, and remus.

Roman was the ego. And nobody let him forget it.

Ego has a lot of different interpretations when it comes to the definition and what it could mean for Roman as a representation. Is he the Freudian ego, a part of the conscious mind that acts according to reality? No, that didn't sound very much like Roman at all. Is he the literal ego, which is a sense of personal identity and self-worth? Roman would like to think so, but he wasn't completely sure.

The definition of ego that all of the other sides, as well as Thomas, as well as the fandom interpreted Roman as was the figurative ego. Selfishness. Snobbiness. Inflated self-importance. In their minds, ego was seen as a flaw. Something that needed to be fought and suppressed in order to better Thomas.

It only made sense. Thomas was raised in a religion where greed and pride were both deadly sins. Wanting things was an aspect of Roman's purpose. He was the reason why Thomas reached for the stars to begin with. Along with this, was appreciation for Thomas' achievements. Roman was the cheerleader, the one who helped Thomas steel his nerves at auditions, the one who reminded Thomas that he was born to perform, and that the only thing stopping him from doing his best was his own doubts. That was all Roman.

But that wasn't the stuff that was noticed. And as hard as Roman tried to deny it, wearing his prince persona like it was a mask, his sash like a bulletproof vest as insults and backhanded compliments were constantly hurled at him, his visage was slipping.

---

"Look, look, guys, look!"

Roman ran as fast as he could out of his bedroom to the other sides, who were eating their lunch in the kitchen. Bouncing on his toes, Roman spun around, showing everybody the new outfit he had created, using red, orange, and brown accents instead of his usual red and white. It had taken all afternoon, and Roman was so happy with his work. Sewing and needlework did not come easy, and the prince spent a lot of time, trial, and error to ensure that this outfit would be impressive.

"Tada!" he cried out, "Do you like it? Isn't it cool? I can make you guys new outfits if you want! If you like this one, I can make a matching one!"

"Looks good, Princey," Virgil said with a small smile, between bites of salad, "I like what you did with the sleeves."

"You do? Really?" Roman's eyes glimmered with joy and he squealed, "Oh, I'm so glad! See, what I did was I puffed out the sleeves, and then-"

"Aww, come on, Virgil, why'd you do that?" Patton asked, a slight frown showing on his face as he grimaced, "Now he's not going to stop bragging about how great he is."

Roman felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

"Yeah, Pat's right," Janus chimed in, gazing at Roman's outfit with a critical eye, "And your needlework could use some, well, needleWORK, Roman. The stitches are so crooked."

"I made it for practice," Roman protested quietly, gazing down at his sleeves, hiding them with his hands, suddenly feeling extremely insecure.

Logan sighed with relief when he saw Roman duck his head.

"Oh, good," he said, "Now I can finally focus. Roman, there's really no need to constantly try and show off how great you are. We all have much more important things to focus on than your preening."

Roman forced a smile so big and splitting that it hurt. He hoped that nobody could see the tears that were starting to blur his vision.

"Got it," he said through his gritted grin, "I'll go fix these stitches, then. See you guys later."

He rushed back to his bedroom, only realizing after he closed the door that he had forgotten to grab a plate of food. But it was just as well. After that interaction, Roman's throat had closed up. His stomach was in knots. He wasn't hungry anyway.

---

"I chose the movie for Movie Night last time," Janus mused out loud, "Roman, why don't you choose this time?"

"Really?" Roman asked excitedly, "You guys never let me choose anymore."

"Don't act like it was for no reason," Patton teased, "You kept singing during the movies, even after we told you to stop. You'd better promise not to sing this time, mister!"

Something invisible stabbed through Roman's chest.

"Uh-huh!" he squeaked, trying to hide how much that comment hurt, though honestly, he was so excited about choosing the movie after weeks of not choosing, that he focused back on the DVD collection quickly. "I wanna watch Brother Bear!"

There was a collective groan.

"Is...is that okay...?" Roman asked hesitantly.

"I love Brother Bear!" Remus said enthusiastically, "The moose are so funny, and the faces the bears make are the best."

"It's...alright, I suppose," Janus shrugged, putting in the DVD, sighing as he did, "What led you to choosing that one, Ro?"

"It's about brothers!" Roman cried out happily, before sheepishly smiling over at Remus. "I like stuff about brothers."

Remus grinned in response. "Yeah! Me too!"

"Aww, how adorable," Janus cooed, petting Roman's hair, "You're so valiant, Roman. So considerate of others."

Roman's heart lifted. "You mean it?" he whispered.

"Of course I mean it, doll," Janus purred, "You're such a sweetheart. You ask that like you don't hear praise often. Now, I just know that's not true."

It absolutely was true. But Roman did not dare argue and risk ruining this perfect moment. He was smiling so big that his mouth and face hurt, but it was a real smile this time. He started to rock back and forth on the couch, so joyful. Janus was being kind to him! Janus was giving him a real compliment!

The movie started, and Janus hugged Roman gently as all six sides watched it together. By the time it was over, everybody agreed that Brother Bear was a great choice of a movie. Roman was positively glowing.

"Roman," Janus mumbled, grabbing Roman's wrist before the prince could go back to his room for bed, "Can we...talk for a moment?"

Roman smiled and nodded. "Alright! How can I help you, Janus?"

He bowed courteously, the way royalty tended to. But it was clear that Janus, in all of his smooth, elegant, almost sultry glory, was all business right now.

"I need you to come with me to talk with Thomas tomorrow," Janus whispered, "We have to tell him that Virgil is messing up Thomas' recharge time by constantly filling his head with worries the whole time. I'm sure Thomas has noticed it, and he's more likely to listen if it's both of us."

"Oh, um...I don't know," Roman admitted, wincing slightly, "I think Virgil's doing a good job, as well as he can, at least. Anxious thoughts are always gonna slip through the cracks, right? And- I thought Thomas said that his recharge time has improved."

"Huh," Janus remarked, his expression growing colder, "And here I was thinking that you actually had some sense, Roman. Some basic observation skills when it comes to people besides yourself."

Roman's eyes widened, and he took a shaky step back, confused and astonished.

Janus had just been so sweet to him. What happened??

"I'm sorry," Roman said immediately. By now, he had learned that the sooner he apologized, the better. "I didn't mean to be- um- to not- uh- I-"

"Spit it out!" Janus snapped, before pinching the bridge of his nose and regaining his composure, "You should know by now that an apology means nothing if you don't even know what you're apologizing for. And I thought I was the manipulative one."

"I'm not trying to manipulate you," Roman protested, a tear rolling down his face that he desperately wiped away, but it was too late.

"Crocodile tears don't work on me, sweetheart," Janus cooed, "I give you all these compliments, I build you up and support you all night, and you can't even do this one little thing for me? You just have to argue with me and be right? No wonder the fandom can't stand you. You need to be knocked down a few pegs."

Roman winced as Janus turned on his heels and walked away, muttering under his breath. When the sound of Janus' footsteps faded away, Roman finally let out the sob that he had been biting back. It hurt to restrain it, burning his throat and stinging his eyes, but he didn't want Janus to think he was only crying to make him feel guilty.

It wasn't fair, Roman couldn't help but think. He had really thought Janus' compliments were real. He should have known that the only reason Janus would ever be nice to him was to get something out of him.

After all, Janus said this out loud on camera. And nobody even batted an eye.

Manipulation, the prince learned, was only a sin when Roman was the one being accused of it.

---

"Woah, good flip, Ro!"

Remus laughed in delight as he watched Roman flip pancake after pancake. Roman was not usually great in the kitchen, but when it came to Pancake Saturday, he had grown to master the art. He absolutely adored dying the batter different colors and making silly shapes for each of his fellow sides, so they could wake up to a new art piece.

This morning, as usual, all of the sides were chatting while waiting for their pancakes, and Roman glowed at Remus' praise.

"Thanks!" he said eagerly, "I've been practicing since last week! I think I'm really improving my form, though, I guess it makes sense. I have a pretty strong left arm!"

"Oh, here it comes!" Patton interjected, grinning at the others as he pointed to Roman, "The ego express! Choo choo!"

"Careful, now, Remus," Logan said, a small, amused smile on his face as he cut into his asteroid-shaped pancake, "If you keep inflating Roman's ego, he'll become even more insufferable."

Roman's eyes widened, and his face flushed so with embarrassment that he started to sweat. Quickly, he turned to face the pan, realizing with a jolt of panic that his pancakes were going to burn. He quickly flipped them over and turned down the heat with a trembling hand.

All Remus had done was give him a compliment. Was that not allowed anymore? Was Roman just so insufferable that it was impossible for him to get any sort of kindness without it being immediately reversed into something bad?

"The last thing he needs is more ego-stroking," Janus chimed in, "All he ever talks about is himself."

"All he ever cares about is himself," Patton added with a disappointed sigh, "Maybe we should all lay off on the praise. It's spoiling him rotten."

Roman's grip tightened on his spatula. He was making custom pancakes for everybody, not eating a bite until everyone else had eaten their fill, and somehow, he was still being accused of thinking only of himself?

The prince's mind raced as he thought about all of the things he had done. He had given up the callback, his livelihood, the one thing he wanted more than anything. After bringing up the idea of communicating with both the director of the callback and the fiances of the wedding and being shut down, Roman was the one who had been punished for deciding on the wedding after the fact. It was always his fault. Everything was always Roman's fault, and he apologized, and groveled, and did everything he could. He listened to every degrading joke about him with as much grace as he could. Sure, Roman wasn't perfect. Sometimes, he was pushed to his limits and he just had to fight back. But it wasn't often. Roman went through so much pain to make the others happy. He gave up so much.

When would the sacrifices ever be enough for them?

"Aww, is Princey crying?" Janus taunted, snapping Roman out of his thoughts.

Roman realized that he was indeed softly sobbing, his tears landing on the hot pancake griddle and sizzling as they evaporated. This always happened to him. He got so lost in his own mind that he started to cry before he realized it soon enough to stop. Now the others would think he was being manipulative!

Immediately, Roman reached forward and turned off the heat on the stove. He scooped up the pancakes on the griddle and placed them on Remus' plate. And then, he ran as quickly as he could out of the kitchen and back into his room, hearing laughter echoing behind him. Roman could hear everything

He wished his door was thicker.

"Goodness, that Princey," Patton sighed, "He can't handle any sort of criticism, can he?"

Did Patton realize how hurtful receiving a constant barrage of criticism every second of the day was?

"No, he certainly can't," Logan agreed, "Frankly, it's very disturbing to see him acting so childish. He throws a tantrum every time he doesn't get his way."

Did Logan have any idea how often Roman did not get his way?

"He never listens," Janus scoffed dismissively, "I've tried to tell him to knock it off, but I swear, he's even more spiteful than Virgil."

How could Janus call Roman spiteful after throwing him under the bus in front of millions just because Roman didn't do exactly what he wanted?

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

Roman wasn't an idiot, as much as people liked to call him one. He read every single hate comment. He saw every single poll. Nobody liked him. The other sides didn't like him. The fans despised him. They called him a brat, a narcissist. They made him the butt of every joke, and wrote him as a bully in all of their stories. They only ever saw the person he had practically killed himself trying to erase. They only cared about what Patton and Janus said, and not at all about what Roman did.

"If so many people hate me, then maybe I'm the problem," Roman whispered to himself, gazing into his mirror, pristine and crystal clear. "I can't remember the last time I read a nice comment about myself online. I don't know if there was ever a time when Janus or Patton genuinely complimented me. Maybe I don't deserve compliments. I'm just stupid, old, egotistical Roman! And no matter how hard I try, I'll never, ever be who they want me to be! Never...ever..."

He collapsed against his mirror and cried bitter, desperate tears. His chest was being clawed from the inside out. Roman felt like the world was spinning, and like there was no way out of the hole he was being buried in. There was no winning on Christmas, no winning any day for the prince.

No matter what he did, Roman would always walk away the loser.

---

"Do you have any idea how fucked up that was?"

"You're sitting there eating the pancakes he woke up at 6am to make for you, and you're calling him selfish?"

Virgil and Remus were up in arms, side by side as they angrily questioned the other sides. It was rare that this ragtag duo agreed over anything. Their purposes were so opposite. But in this moment, the one thing they shared was their extreme concern for Roman.

One thing about Roman was that he was horrible at pushing down his feelings. But recently, more and more, Virgil and Remus had witnessed the prince putting on a perfect, flawless mask in order to hide his brokenness. Why wouldn't he? It was clear that when he did show his sadness or anger or frustration, it only resulted in punishment. Humiliation, or chastising, or exclusion. Even on camera, in front of millions, Roman couldn't escape the endless barrage of hate and torment.

"You're bullying him, and you don't even care!" Remus spat angrily, "Do you realize how much Roman has given up, just to make you all happy?"

"I can't even remember the last time you guys have been genuinely nice to him," Virgil seethed, "It's always followed by some smartass, backhanded remark."

"What are you talking about?" Janus asked, narrowing his eyes at Virgil, "You're always teasing Roman."

"Not the way you three do," Virgil snapped, "Always getting after him just for feeling happy? Making him think that he can't ever be proud of himself, that he can't ever express self-worth. You guys are all suppressing the most important part of Roman! I know he can be a bit braggy and over-confident sometimes. But that's his literal fucking job!"

"It's not like we humiliate and dogpile on Janus whenever he lies to us!" Remus exclaimed, "Because we know that's his job! We don't make fun of Patton when he has a bug up his ass! Everyone is allowed to do their job, everyone is allowed to make mistakes and take wrong steps except for Roman. And it's fucked up."

"You two are being ridiculous!" Patton exclaimed, tears forming in his eyes, "Why are you blaming us? Are we not allowed to critique Roman anymore? He has a lot to learn. He's the reason why everything's been going downhill to begin with!"

"Don't you ever fucking say that again," Virgil hissed, getting up in Patton's face, which was something that Virgil hardly ever had the courage to do with Patton. But when it came to Roman? Virgil was ready to unsheath his claws at a moments notice. "Roman was the one who suggested that Thomas talk to Lee and Mary-Lee about the callback. We all shut him down. Because we didn't think Roman was capable of having a good idea. Janus, Patton, you two kept pulling Roman in opposite directions, using him as a pawn for your stupid fucking games! Treating him like a trophy, or- or an accessory instead of a real side with feelings and wants!"

"Nobody ever asks Roman what he wants," Remus added, "That's why he's so outspoken. Because nobody ever asks him anything. Nobody ever even tries to make Roman happy, so he, because he's a big, stupid, naive, oblivious idiot, tries to make himself happy! But it never works, because you sick fucks can't stand to see him happy! All three of you use Roman like your free punching bag. Say and do whatever the fuck you want to me. But leave my brother alone. He's fragile, and you know that. He would never fight back hard enough to actually match the amount of hurt you've caused him. And that's why you chose Roman."

"You know it's true," Virgil muttered, grabbing Remus' wrist and walking away, "Come on, Re. Let's go check on Princey."

"He's the egotistical side," Janus said as the two sides walked away, "He needs to be knocked down a peg."

"The only sides who need to be knocked down a peg are you three," Remus responded icily, "Not Roman. Anyone with a brain can see that he's already at the bottom."

---

Roman? Wow, he's a horrible person!

I can't stand Roman. He's so annoying.

Don't tell Roman that you made him happy, it might boost his ego.

By now, Roman was crying so hard that he could barely read the words on his screen. He swiped the top of his hand against his eyes as he tried to move the neverending tears out of the way. Deep down, he knew this wasn't a good idea. Reading hate comments was never a good idea.

But Roman felt like he deserved it.

After all, he was the egotistical side. If he didn't change, then he would never escape this endless hell of insults and deception. Roman had to choose between his own well-being, and the happiness of the others. It was tearing him apart inside. The deepest core of his identity was being stretched thin.

Roman was the ego.

But he could no longer think of himself without feeling disgust and hatred.

"Hey! Open the door, fuckface!"

Roman gasped as he heard Remus' voice. He struggled to his feet and stumbled to the door, wiping and wiping at his face to try and get rid of the tears. He opened the door and tried to smile, in the most unassuming way.

But Virgil and Remus were not having that.

"Stop that, you fucking idiot," Virgil said, before quickly correcting himself, "I mean...Princey."

"What's going on...?" Roman whispered hoarsely, "Did I do something wrong? If you're here to get angry at me, please- just do it. I'll fix whatever I did wrong. I'll change it. I swear."

Virgil and Remus stared at Roman, slack-jawed, for a long time. Roman squirmed.

"Did I say something bad...?" Roman asked hesitantly.

"I'm going to kill them," Remus said simply, his face relaxed, but his eyes manic. "I swear, I'm going to fucking slit their throats."

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Virgil mumbled, guiding Roman to his bed and sitting him down on it, "You're Roman. You're...you're the ego."

"I know," Roman said, his voice pained, "Please don't remind me."

"I have to remind you," Virgil pressed, "Because- you- you're throwing away the most precious parts of yourself. Just to appease those stupid sons of bitches out there. Janus, Logan, and Patton? They have no idea how hard it is to be you. For months, I've watched them bully you and treat you like- like a toy. They never stop pushing you around, and I don't understand how you've survived it this long."

"I haven't survived it," Roman whispered, curling in on himself, "I picked the wedding."

"Because Patton basically made you!" Remus pointed out, "He kept guilt tripping you! He knows how much you care about being a good person, and he used that against you!"

"I- I made fun of Janus' name, though," Roman protested, squirming where he sat.

"After he manipulated you to hell and back and openly admitted that he was only ever nice to you to get something out of you!" Virgil cried out, "I wish you'd done worse!"

"I can't," Roman said firmly, staring at Remus and Virgil with a chilling sureness to his gaze, "You can, Virgil. And you can, Remus. But me? I can't. I can't do anything about this. If I do, it'll just- it'll make everything worse. Every time I try and say something- every time I try and defend myself- it just doesn't work. I just become the villain again. I'm always outnumbered, and- and nobody cares about how the egotistical, stupid prince character feels about anything."

"You're right," Remus said, surprising both Virgil and Roman, "That's why we have to make them care. We should make our very own video, all about you. Telling the fans about everything from your perspective. There are people who care about you. I know it. There are people who call you their favorite side. I just know that there are. We just have to find them."

"But- I can't make a video all about me," Roman whispered, "That's so self-centered."

"Yeah," Virgil said, gently putting a hand on the prince's shoulder, "That's your literal job, Roman. You're supposed to be a bit of a self-centered brat. Just like Remus is supposed to be a dirty-minded fleabag, and I'm supposed to be a paranoid bitch. We're all supposed to be a little flawed. Everyone expects you to be perfect without expecting that from anybody else, and it's...it's fucked up. But the only way we can change that is by you embracing who you're supposed to be. Instead of constantly trying to be who everyone else wants you to be."

"Virgil...that is the most High School Musical pep talk I've ever heard," Roman remarked, "Except for the calling yourself a bitch part."

"Thanks," Virgil snickered, "I learned everything I know about cheesy pep talks from you. You're Thomas' cheerleader, kid. But- you can't be Thomas' cheerleader without being your own cheerleader too. And I know it's hard. Those other sides are dicks."

"Total limp, floppy, teeny tiny dicks!" Remus piped up.

"Yeah, that," Virgil agreed, before continuing, "But- we just have to be stronger. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you were all alone, because...I want you to know that I always have your back. Always. We fight, but- you're a good guy, Princey. A great guy."

"And you're my brother!" Remus exclaimed,"We're supposed to fistfight each other to the death every full moon! But...you never forget about me. You never act like I don't deserve to exist. What we have isn't exactly friendship, but...I'd call it brotherhood. In that rough-and-tumble, dysfunctional, indie 90's movie way."

"I like that," Roman admitted, "You guys are the best. I- I'm sorry if I haven't been the greatest to either of you before. If I'd known you felt like this about me...I just- I've always been scared to get closer to you two."

"Of course you were scared," Virgil pointed out, "You had no reason to believe we wouldn't treat you just like Patton, Janus, and Logan do. Why would you risk adding to the bully collection? I get it, Princey."

"I get it too," Remus said, "Now come on, guys, can we please stop being cheesy and start getting some revenge?"

"I don't know about all that right now," Roman said, smiling as he let the tears pour down his face, though now, they were tears of joy. "I don't know if I'm ready yet. But one thing's for sure...from now on, those three can make their own damn pancakes!"

All three of them dissolved into giggles. Together, they turned Roman's room into a blanket castle, with pillows stacked to the ceiling to make towers, and string lights hung around the walls to create a nice ambiance. They watched all of Roman's favorite movies, and together, they all sang as loudly as they wanted to.

And it was wonderful.

Roman realized as he tussled and roughhoused with Remus and Virgil between the pillow columns that it was okay to be the egotistical side. And that even though it was hard, Roman was so happy when he was thinking highly of himself, and bragging, and showing off. And he was even happier when Virgil and Remus were supportive, showing off their own flaws with devious pride.

Pride was okay. Here, pride could be, for just a little while, a good thing. And it was so refreshing.

[cherryblossomtease]

Chapter 15

18+ only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Because sometimes all you need is a simple reminder of who started this mess in the first damn place 💜

Warnings : as always 18+ only please- dom Zemo, sub Bucky, sub reader, punishment, m/m, m/m/f, light bondage

Authors Notes: Really didn't think I would be posting this weekend but it's a holiday in the states so why not! Still working on the rest by you know, neglecting everything that matters to create this fictional world. Anyhow, I can honestly say this is by far the most graphic story I've written so I'm a little nervous but it's already done, can't change it now, and I honestly don't want to! That said I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!

~

Nothing lasts forever, especially when it’s this good. And this fabricated reality is about as good as it gets. Still, you know this boat will dock soon and goodbyes will be said. There’s really no way around it, try as you might to come up with a plan to talk Bucky into staying. Even now as you fight to stay asleep, your brain is working hard to create a solution while you refuse to give into your worries so early in the day.

You turn onto your stomach ignoring the dark thoughts, choosing instead to enjoy the feel of a strong arm across your back and a leg, hairy and heavy over both of yours.

Settling again with a content sigh, sleep starts to pull you back under. Thank the stars. You really aren’t in the mood— even if your dreams apparently are.

And what had you been dreaming about anyway?

A little house on a wide cliff overlooking water, and something else? The harder you try to remember the more you feel yourself slipping back into that dream space.

There was a small animal. What was it? A rabbit? Its fluffy body too close to the edge of the cliff. But in the dream you’d stayed standing in the doorway of the little house too indifferent to go and save it….

You feel bodies moving lazily, a stream of breath along your back that tickles; arms and legs and the men they belong to not fully awake and starting to stir like you, even as you quickly slip back into sleep until you’re standing in the doorway of that house again with the warm winds on your face and a view of the French sea below. The drop is dangerous. Deadly even.

Why haven’t you started talking Bucky into staying yet? Because you don’t like thinking about it too much. That's why. You start walking towards the edge of the cliff and you’re fully aware of your worlds crossing over —real thoughts present in your dream.

It’s probably bad luck to resent good deeds, after all that’s what he’s leaving you for. He wants to go off and live the life of the hero he never got to be. That and to keep Zemo’s location safe; but that’s besides the point. Hmm… Look at me, selfish even in my dreams. You smile when you shouldn’t.

Staring over the edge of the cliff it’s suddenly clear how unstable the ground is here and you gasp as it crumbles beneath your feet without warning.

Your eyes open with a start.

Well, that was a bit on the nose. Your subconscious does like to lay it on a thick sometimes, especially when you continue to ignore the things bothering you for too long and you've been setting these feelings aside since the text came through.

But just as quickly as you’re left to shake the shadow of the eerie dream, your frown fades replaced by a slow smile.

There is a very familiar poking at your ass that can sometimes be annoying-- this morning it’s welcome. You reach back and feel for the body that the greeting belongs too, comforted by the warmth and solid muscle of Bucky’s thigh under his tight boxers.

Mmmmm, the source of my distress and my desire, you think and grin into the pillows with a soft moan when his hand, hot and strong takes hold of your hip, massaging as he presses his erection into you.

You’ll talk to him about your dreams later.

Feeling a draft where there should be warmth, you open an eye to find breaks of sunlight in the space between Helmut’s arm and torso. When you turn your head you’re met with the sight of his bare chest, broad and covered in the softest dark hair. His necklace hangs off center, and you, as always, are helpless to it.

Your hand leaves Bucky’s thigh and your fingers slide over the delicate links in the chain and down into the soft chest hair as you turn your head to find he and Bucky locked in one hell of a kiss for so early in the day. It must have been their movement or the sound of their lips that woke you and pulled you from the doom of your fatal fall.

Dreams are so strange…

Your heart flutters when Helmut lays his hand over yours pressing it tight to his chest. “Good morning love birds.” You snicker and watch Bucky pull away from Zemo looking a little embarrassed. He does pause to kiss your cheek however before getting out of bed with a long stretch.

“So where the hell are we anyway?” He asks going to the balcony door, looking out at the passing waves. “Feels like nowhere.”

Zemo is looking down at you, stroking your profile, kissing your nose. “We should be well within the middle of it actually.” He answers, eyes still fixed on you.

“Perfect” You say softly letting him pull you so close that he blocks out the light as your lips meet.

“Breakfast is ready sir,” Oeznik calls from outside the bedroom door.

Zemo grumbles at the interruption but you’re starving. “What? I’m not going anywhere” You huff turning away, trying to escape. “You just said so yourself. I've got no place to go.”

“All by design” He smiles and lets you get up, giving your ass a smack as you go. Bucky is watching from the doorway and laughs at your yelp-hop-rub combination.

Swearing under your breath you go over to the closet, grab your silk robe and pull it on over your shorts and tank top, yawning as you drag your feet over to Bucky. You pat his stomach, kissing him quickly. “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Lets go up.” You say tugging at him as Zemo gets up and puts on his own robe across the room. It’s not the thick one you liked from before the raft, but silk like yours— Tom Ford if memory serves— god his influence is strong. How the hell do you remember this stuff?

You watch him scratch at the back of his messy nest of hair like he always does in the mornings, somehow looking both sexy and adorable, alternating between the two with the ease of flicking a light switch. You can only smile at the enigma that is Helmut Zemo and pull Bucky away from the doors.

The three of you leave the room shuffling along, making your way down the hall to the den. Zemo trails you and Bucky accepting a small espresso from Oeznik as he watches the way you and your Sergeant interact. Neither you nor Bucky are necessarily morning people and though it’s nearly ten, you’re both somewhat irritable now that you’re actually moving around and slightly hungover from yesterdays sangrias as you make your way up to the top deck where breakfast will be served.

The sun is so bright you huff about not being able to find your sunglasses and Bucky accuses you of being a diva. The only appropriate reaction is to give him a shove.

Zemo snorts a laugh at your near sibling like banter which you’d established after so many months together, but once you find your glasses on the bar counter and get a fresh cup of coffee and a bloody Mary chaser in your body you’re feeling like a new woman ready to conquer the day… a day spent doing nothing really.

It’s all so casually decadent that it’s nearly sinful. Whats the one? The sin that doesn’t sound as good as lust but feels better after all that fornicating you’ve been doing— Sloth? Yes, you think reaching for what’s left of your blood Mary from the lounge chair, the ultimate of all the sins. Thou shalt not be a lazy ass sloth all day on your yacht.

Cheers.

You read on the deck for a while, play a few rounds of shuffle board with Bucky by the pool and attempt to best Zemo at chess in the den.

Lunch is wonderful, and you think you will need to meet this mystery chef at some point before the trip is over followed by a nap on the bedroom balcony.

When you wake up in the very late afternoon you venture down the hall with your book and unexpectedly find the men in your life moaning on the floor of the den in a tangle of beautifully tanned arms and legs. So you very quietly slip past, feeling a flush rise up your neck to your cheeks highlighting your wide but tight lipped smile.

You stay above decks giving them privacy feeling only the slightest twinge of jealousy. Not because you think you’ve been excluded but because you could use another session like last night.

A shiver runs deep in your belly thinking of the way Helmut brought you to climax, but you’re still more than happy to give them time alone. After all, you’ve had the Baron to yourself for far longer than Bucky.

You sink down onto the upper deck sofa, the image of them entwined, the sounds of their heavy breathing and Bucky’s near innocent moans enough to make you consider touching yourself but you wait, letting the urge build, one of them if not both will take care of you later.

So when Bucky comes up and finds you with a funny look on his face you’re completely confused. “Whats wrong?” You ask putting your book down.

He’s poured a drink and sits down beside you on the couch.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” He says shaking his head tossing back the bourbon.

“Do what?” You have an idea but you thought for sure he’d be eager to try, at least it looked like they were well on their way to his first time.

“Letting him control me, I’ve never had someone tell me no. Not like this.”

“Oh” You smile. It’s the no sex. The lack of it is a cruel form of control but the end results are glorious, if he could just be patient enough. “He won’t let you come?” You ask a little more patronizing than you’d intended.

“No!” Bucky whines taking his cue from you and you stifle your laughter. He’s so cute, even in the throws of his sexual agony. “And it’s making me crazy. I mean I’m already crazy but this is different.” He looks around and leans closer to you. “If you were to so much as look at my cock right now, I’d be done.” He says under his breath.

You let go and laugh rolling your eyes. Dramatics seem to come as naturally as submission to him. “That’s against the rules.” You warn eyeing him sidelong and attempting to go back to your book.

“I can’t take it. Fuck the rules.” He says again pulling the paperback from your hand.

You wave your finger in his face. “James. You’re not allowed.” You say playfully.

“Please.” He begs running his finger down your cheek, brushing your neck and gliding along your clavicle where he knows you’re sensitive.

“I can’t!” You lean away a little surprised by his attempt.

“He won’t know!”

You shake your head “I know but…” You try not to smile.

“I can’t take it.” He insists leaning in to kiss you. “I promise; it won’t take long.”

You give in and laugh sensing his desperation as you kiss. He does feel tense. The muscles of his arm and shoulder are wound tight as a chord. You smile against his lips letting him ease you down onto the couch, your book dropping to the floor as he moans, sliding his hand down your thigh, pushing your knee up and his own hips forward letting you feel what you’re fairly certain is the most rock solid hard on you’ve ever had pressed to your body. You whisper his name as his lips find their way to your neck and his hand slides between you to free himself from those amazing shorts.

“Shame, I had every intention of making your patience worth the effort. But you do love to prolong your torment, don’t you soldat.”

You gasp and Bucky hangs his head as Zemo comes sauntering over. Your laughter is a mix of nerves and feeling like you’ve been caught sneaking around with a boy like a damn teenager. It’s been years since you’ve felt a rush like this. Leave it to the Baron to stir that old excitement again.

“Don’t move” Zemo orders, pointing a finger in your face. You freeze, legs open where Bucky was, your arms tight at your sides. “Sit” He growls at Bucky who obeys begrudgingly as he slides back onto the couch.

Very quickly Zemo shoves your legs closed and grabs you by the arm pulling you up to standing. You lean away as he shakes his head keeping you close, his hold so tight you wince “I thought you knew better by now” He scolds you sounding disappointed.

“I told him not too?” You try looking as innocent as possible. You truly had no intentions of fucking him, but maybe a quick hand job?

There is a flicker of excitement in Zemo’s eyes. It's been so long since you’ve given him a reason to really go for it and you hold in your smile because you’re meant to be sad and hang your head. “I’m sorry Baron.”

He ignores your attempts to apologize and pulls you over so that you’re standing in front of Bucky. He looks you both over for a moment thinking and then smiles. You don’t know if you love or hate to see him looking so pleased. Nothing “good” ever comes of that smile.

“Look James.” He says, waiting until Bucky raises his head. “I want you to see what listening to your eager cock and not my rules get gets you— and her.” He tells Bucky before giving you his undivided attention.

Zemo turns your back to Bucky and you feel his hand between your shoulder blades pushing just a little. You bend at the waist, not all the way, just enough to make sure Bucky knows where his attention should be.

This flouncy little designer sun dress you’ve changed into after your nap only helps direct his gaze as Zemo drags the fabric up slowly so that the reveal of your ass is yet another way to torment him all on its own and you give yourself over to the Baron and wonder how bad this will be.

“Pull them down.” He tells you, his hand smoothing over your simple lace panties. His voice is not so angry as it was when he found the two of you, but every bit as firm, and you glance up at him as you hook your thumbs into the waist band. He nods and you quickly obey, pulling your underwear over the curve of your hips and ass and swear you hear Bucky groan when you bend to pull them from your ankles letting him see the diamond shape of your pussy from behind for just a second, your smile hidden from view.

When you stand again, Zemo offers his forearm. You rest your stomach against him, your hand gripping his shirt, the other you will have to try very hard not to cover your backside with because you know that the breeze will be the last nice thing that you feel.

He tosses your dress back up holding you, adjusting the way he stands just a little so that you are safe but immobile.

“Count them off; to five.” He says leaning just a bit closer. The tone in his voice is confident. Zemo knows that you’re well aware of what this means.

“Yes Baron.” You say exhaling, trying to prepare, but five? Fuck. He does not intend on holding back. If he was being playful he would give you ten or more, but five? He knows you won’t be able to take more that that.

You dig your fingers into his forearm and hold your breath.

The first strike makes you cry out.

The way Zemo can raise his hand and bring it down on your ass is unrivaled. He doesn’t mess around. There is no teasing, no playing, no cute little taps to warm you up. Just instant punishment.

“One.”

Your voice shakes and the rousing heat of adrenaline spreads through your arms and legs.

Again he lifts his hand and brings it down quickly with a stinging force that sends shock waves through your body. Your cry is weaker this time, trailing longer.

“Two.”

You pull his shirt tighter into your fist, your cheeks are on fire already when you feel the air stir as his hand rises again. You wonder if Bucky is watching, you wonder if he see’s how your thighs flex and your flesh shakes when the Baron strikes you.

You close your eyes and draw in your bottom lip trying not to moan, but you arch your back and your hips begin to circle ever so slightly with the anticipation of the next smack. You’re practically whimpering as you offer up your backside for more.

Zemo can feel the light vibration of pleasure sounding in your chest and his laughter is a low, very amused rumble as he raises his hand just a little higher this time.

The next smack lands and you toss your head back with a gasp. You would have gone to your knees if he wasn’t strong enough to hold you up. “Three” You whisper but you don’t move. The air brushes your pussy, wet in spite of your reddening skin.

“Don’t look away.” Zemo says.

There is the answer to your previous question. Bucky likes it, but it’s not always easy for him to watch.

“James!” Zemo snaps and waits. Bucky must be looking again because you feel the Baron move.

The fourth strike comes and you steady yourself knowing you can take it, wanting it, loving it as much as your feel your legs shaking. “Four”

You’re breathing hard, as you anticipate the final blow, desperate for it to be over but sorry for it to end. You rest against him for just a second feeling both safe in his hold and powerless to his dominance.

When the last of your punishment lands you hang your head, rounding your spine unable to offer yourself anymore. You can not pretend and this is why he’s given you so few.

Letting your hips drop as your body shudders and a single tear falls, you whisper, “Five” And only Helmut hears you say it.

Very gently he pulls your dress down, the soft cotton is cool over your burning skin and he turns you around to face him.

He brushes the tear from your cheek, holding you in such a way that you can go limp in his arms. “It wasn’t that bad, you’re just out of practice.” He says smiling at you knowing it wasn’t kind either.

You’d love for him to know just once. Maybe let Bucky give him a slap across the ass to make it fair. But when you look at him the thought is all wrong if not hilarious and you just shrug a little and hang your head again, resting on his chest.

“No breaking rules.” He scolds affectionately, “Even if you’re only trying to help. Understood?”

“Yes Baron.” Your voice is very small.

He gives a nod, kisses your forehead and looks over his shoulder at James. “So, is this what you wanted?”

“No.”

“No… no I don’t think it is.” He agrees. “But I understand. She’s damn near impossible to resist still you must learn to control yourself. Apparently I’ve not made that clear. Perhaps a more direct approach.”

You both look at him wide eyed. What’s more direct than this you think not even close to recovered from your spanking.

“Both of you, go down to our bedroom.” He says as though nothing has ever been more obvious “Take off your clothes. Wait for me on the bed.”

You look at Bucky. He looks at you.

“You fucked up,” You mouth to him.

Bucky just gets up and pushes past you both.

*

“I suppose you could say I’ve had to get creative with my plans for you. I know that pain is something you can’t respond to in ways that she can.” Zemo says, smiling as he glances down at Bucky and then over his shoulder at you on your knees behind him. “Have you finished?”

You look up from what you’re doing, hoping it’s right. “Yes, I think so?”

He comes around to look at the rope binding Bucky’s wrists. It’s just for show to heighten the experience. Of course Bucky could break free if he wanted to— his strength is no match for a few rough fibers— but this is a training of the mind as well as the body. “You see, pleasure can be just as awful.” Zemo says, his voice making you shiver as he checks your work, tugging and tightening the rope a little more.

Leaning in close, he strokes Bucky’s jaw, his finger reaching to trace the spine of his ear and you smile when the hairs on Bucky’s right arm raise and Zemo loses the air of control for a second simply becoming the man who cares for the other deeply. “The irony of tying you to a chair to satisfy you is not lost on me, based on what I know of your past. But if you can endure it, I promise it will be nothing like the pain you’ve known. I could never hurt you in that way. Still, if at any time this is too much, if it triggers memories that change it from what it’s meant to be, please— James— say the word, your word and it stops.”

Bucky nods. “I will” He says softly.

“Nothing now?” Zemo asks genuinely wanting to know. Bucky shakes his head. “No, nothing.”

Zemo gives a confident nod and kisses the back of Bucky’s head patting his cheek a little harder than he needs too. “I only want to make you feel good— eventually.” He teases and Bucky rolls his eyes with a small laugh.

Pleased, Zemo pushes up and goes to sit in the soft chair across the room, notably more comfortable than the one Bucky has been placed in. Although the more obvious differences being, Zemo is not bound, Zemo is not naked, and Zemo has not been so gently stroked and toyed with that he’s been left with a perfectly vulnerable erection like Bucky has.

You’d had a hard time focusing on the ropes as the Baron made it happen. The way he’d taken Bucky in hand, winding down the length of his sex was in a word, mesmerizing. And when Bucky made that sound, that soft, pleading sound and Zemo stopped — his brow raised with such smug confidence— you wondered who would break first, you or Bucky. He’d quickly brought his hand up with one last tease, his fingers swirling around the curving head of Bucky’s member only to let go as though he’d lost interest.

Bucky’s groan was deep. He was beyond frustrated, but instead of breaking out of his restrains and fucking one of the two of you, he sat there just waiting to be punished for breaking rules in the first place.

He watches as you come and kneel before him, naked yourself as you’ve been told to be. He actually looks slightly scared but mostly curious. His erection is as always flawlessly pretty, arching up and back, smooth while perfectly veined and so inciting.

You only know what it is you’re meant to do to him because you’ve had it done to you before. You figure it’s very similar, only the mechanics are different because his is a man. If Zemo doesn’t approve, he’ll tell you.

The Baron in charge picks up his drink, the ice rattling as he takes a sip and lets the scene settle in his sights for a moment. He likes to see the two of you together, his two helpless things— his to play with and his to love.

“Begin.”

Bucky inhales, but you smile at him to show that it won’t hurt— it’ll just drive him mad.

First you take the little bottle of body oil from the floor and put some in your hands rubbing them together.

He raises his brow watching you and starts to relax thinking he might understand now. You take him in hand and start to stroke, you are after all very good at this. Over and over again, up and down his long, thick shaft, curving your hand over the head of his cock until he moans and rolls his eyes shut. When he opens them he does seem a bit confused by this sudden attention and he flashes a smile because it feels so good. If this is all that’s been planned, he could get used to this sort of punishment.

The room is quiet, there’s nothing but the soft hum of the ship, his breathing and the wonderfully obscene sound of the oil you’re using against his skin as you work faster…

It’s not long before you feel him stiffen and his breath grows quicker, his thighs flex, his hips raise an inch and he starts to moan softly, a staccato sound of pleasure that makes even your heart beat faster. He’s been waiting and suffering through so much you can feel the joy of release seeping into every inch of his body.

“You feel it happening?” Zemo asks softly. “The start, the pressure mounting? You see, she is very good. And she will get you there James, every time— right to the edge”

You yank your hand away and he jerks forward mouth open cock twitching with the start of an orgasm he will not have.

“To the edge” Zemo chuckles. “A cruel punishment for a greedy man who must learn to wait.”

Bucky quickly lifts his head, the realization flashing in his eyes as his chest rises and falls. He looks down at you.

You smile and reach for him again.

*

“Please” He begs breathless.

“Not yet” Zemo says leaning forward a bit in his seat, the drink in his hand all but forgotten. You notice the ice has long since melted as you wait for permission, watching over your shoulder.

He gives you a nod and you turn back to Bucky.

Wrapping your hand around him again, you feel him so solid he’s like stone. His thighs are flexed, his hips raise up in the chair as you begin to jerk your hand up and down and the light reflecting off the oil makes you both shine like gold.

He moans and you watch the muscles of his abs flex as he feels the orgasm coming on, helpless to it and your skilled hand.

“I’m going to come.” He groans sounding sorry for and drops his hips.

“No, you won’t. I did not say that you can” Zemo says like the villain behind you.

“I can’t it hold back” Bucky pants, his voice is thin he sounds like he very well might lose control and you feel him pulse in your palm. You twist your hand around sliding it down to the base thinking it might help hold him off if your focus is less near the collection of nerve endings.

Zemo stands and comes to you, tapping your shoulder. You let him go with a quick up and down and Bucky’s disappointment is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard.

When Zemo looks down at the wonderfully pitiful sight, Bucky shuts his eyes. “Yellow.” He whispers. “Please, yellow.”

“All right.” Zemo says kindly and gives his head a rub. “Rest”

“Thank you.” Bucky manages.

You stand not caring what Zemo says and kiss Bucky’s cheek.

“You okay?” You ask, your hand on his shoulder, lifting his chin to look at his face.

“Please… don’t, don’t touch me for a minute?” He asks and you give an embarrassed laugh understanding his request. You’re not exactly innocent in his torment.

“Of course I’m sorry I…” Your sentence is cut off.

Zemo has you by the back of your arms and pulls you tight against him. “You, not her.”

Bucky sighs dropping his head.

“I’m still confused. Is, this what you wanted?” He asks feigning ignorance though with you naked its clear what Zemo means.

Bucky won’t look.

“Answer me.”

“No, I mean— yes Baron.” He concedes.

You feel Zemo’s laugh along your neck. “You wouldn’t have been fast enough to finish before I found you. Well, maybe you, but not her. Tell me, how quickly can you make her come?”

“What?”

“How quickly?”

You shut your eyes as soon as you realize where this is going.

“I don’t know. I mean she always got there.” Bucky says sounding slightly self conscious.

Zemo smiles. “Two minutes. I can finish her off in just two.”

“Ha!” Bucky doesn’t believe him, who would.

Oh Bucky…

“Tell him it’s true.” Zemo leans towards you.

You nod glancing at them both. “He does this… thing.” You tell Bucky. “He works my spot and my clit at the same time and I come. Fast.” You say simply and totally helpless to it.

“It’s not always the most fun, rarely my first choice; but great when we’re in a hurry.” He shrugs and takes a knee before you even realize that he has. “Open your legs.” He says looking up at you.

Your eyes go wide, surprised to see him down and waiting with Bucky watching. Still, you part your thighs and wisely lay your hands on his shoulders knowing you won’t be able to stay upright without the support.

“This? Right James? This warm, tight, safe place? This is what you wanted?” Zemo asks, teasing Bucky with the way he slides his fingers between your velvet soft folds. You feel him turn his hand and his finger circles your entrance. He sighs and takes hold of your hip to keep you in place.

Two fingers slip inside and you hiss against the stretch, biting your lip as your head lolls to the side. You try to hold in the loudest of your noise but it’s hopeless.

The Baron starts to do his thing and you wonder if you might be able to deny him the pleasure of making you come in front of Bucky again, but just like always you end up gripping his shoulders to keep from falling as he does a perfect come hither with his two fingers as his thumb rubs with the perfect amount of pressure on your throbbing clitoris. He can’t resist and licks your peak for good measure until you hold your breath as he sucks sloppily and until you come on his hand and just as quickly as always. Your wild moaning is nearly feral but you could not care less. It makes you smile to hear him laugh softly so pleased with himself and you and your eyes shut as you pant, catching your breath.

Lowering your head, your eyes only half open, you both look over at Bucky who is glaring at the Baron.

“James.”

“Yes.”

“Stop breaking the rules.”

“Yes Baron.” He says giving in completely.

Zemo smiles and slowly pulls his fingers free from you, raising his hand just enough to show them so wet and sticky and glistening. He kisses your belly and looks up at you. “Go lie down.” He says rubbing your stomach, smoothing his hand over your soft tuft of hair. You’re still floating as you do, happy to go and rest and leave them to it.

“Would you like to come now?” You hear Zemo ask Bucky as he gets up and goes around the chair.

“Please.” Bucky whispers watching you sink down onto the bed on your side.

“I can finish you off just as quickly as I did her.”

“Yes. Please.” He begs through clenched teeth rising up again as if presenting himself to be relieved, the steady rush of blood to his lower half turning his cock a darker shade of desperate as it rises up like a tower ready to fall. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” He pants “I’m sorry I tried to fuck her. I’m sorry for breaking your rules. And I will do anything, please just… fuck. Please!”

Helmut leans down hushing him, pressing his face close to Bucky’s, grabbing him around the chest as his left hand comes reaching over his stomach promising an end to the day’s long torment.

He grips the soldiers gorgeous, endlessly taunted dick; your natural lubricant replacing the oil to help glide his fingers along.

When Zemo starts to work Bucky you can see through the look on his face that this is all he’s wanted to do for so long and you are reminded that this is as much the Baron’s discipline as it is yours— as it is Bucky’s.

Bucky makes a deep sound that gets your attention. His body flexes and you think he looks like a bomb ready to blow. A sexy, finely muscled, lightly tanned bomb with a look of pained excitement as his legs open and his jaw flexes.

“Are you mine James?” Zemo asks, his lips brushing his ear,

“Yes” He says pitifully raising his hips, thrusting once into the Baron’s hand just as Zemo lets go. A deep frown fixes between Bucky’s brows as he waits until Zemo grabs again and starts to perfectly stroke him.

Bucky’s mouth opens, his eyes fix on the incredibly hypnotic rhythm of Zemo’s hand.

“You’ve always been mine haven’t you?”

“Yes!” Bucky nearly shouts, his brows turned down with the exquisite anguish of the nearing release.

“Say it again,” Zemo demands, his right arm tight around Bucky, his eyes shut relishing in the control and the love, you listen to the wet rhythm as it gets faster.

“Yes.”

“Say it!”

“I’ve always been yours” Bucky moans loudly and glances over at you unable to keep your hand away from your pussy selfishly wanting to come again.

“Once more.” Helmut says opening his eyes. The muscle of his arm is flexed beautifully as he pounds.

Bucky moans so similarly to you that Helmut just smiles. He knows, he understands the hold he has over you both.

“I’m yours” Bucky manages and the Baron focuses his movement as if pulling the orgasm from Bucky’s body willing it to come forward. He jerks his hand up and away…but this time he’s finished the job.

He holds Bucky as the man cries out, his hips rising high this time, his cock pulsing with a tight up and down as he finally —god, finally— gives a high pitched groan with that first explosive release of come that shoots past his stomach and onto his own chest followed by equally satisfying spasms that send milky droplets flying free into the air and across his stomach onto Zemo’s arms; Bucky’s groaning and gasping near tears with the absolute exhaustion and relief of his well deserved climax, his moans and gasps of surprise so raw and unaffected.

By the time he lowers back down to the chair unable to do much more than sit there, limp and panting with his eyes closed, Helmut is holding him, caring nothing for the mess. He seems to love the sight of the pearlescent results of Bucky’s incredible orgasm as much as you do.

Smiling as he strokes Bucky’s hair, kissing his temple, he says with a tone only Helmut Zemo could manage at a moment like this, “You see. When you listen to me, I make it worth every second, every moment of torment. Yes?”

Bucky nods but it’s weak.

Zemo chuckles softly, kisses him again and reaches down easily undoing the ropes.

“Look at you both.” He says trying to sound angry, as if it’s not all his fault. “You can’t come to dinner like this. I’ll run a bath.”

He leaves Bucky and comes to the bed bending over you, his hand so sticky from the combination is heavy on your belly as he kisses your lips. “Hows your ass?” He asks.

“Still on fire.” You say and he winks as he rises.

“Good."

*

“You’re pretty quiet over there.” Bucky says splashing you from across the large tub. You’ve both been in for a while now after Zemo took a quick shower and left you alone letting you know he’d be up waiting at the dinner table.

Roused from your daydream but still not sure you want to talk about why you’re so quiet, you glance over and shrug.

“Whats wrong? You’re not mad about what happened are you?” Bucky asks sliding a little closer. The tub is surprisingly big in an already large bathroom and yet again you wonder how you’ll return to real life when this all ends.

“What happened?” You ask him.

“Getting you in trouble? He really put a shine on your backside.” Bucky says, a smile breaking through any attempt at being serious.

You sit up surprised to hear that’s what he thinks it could be. “Ha! No. Not at all. That was amazing… god” You tip your head back, the image of Bucky, naked and tired to a chair with Zemo holding him and whispering in his ear will be seared into your mind for life. “I didn’t know you could come that much.” You say, slowly looking back down at him,trying not to giggle.

“Neither did I.” He says practically blushing before he grins. “Same goes for you.” He tosses right back.

You laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay well we both know he’s capable of turning us into sex crazed idiots apparently.” You say with a cheeky grin and Bucky laughs shaking his head with a sigh.

“What is it? Some Sokovian spell or something, magic from the old world?” Bucky says with a thick accent wiggling his wet soapy fingers in the air.

Laughing you scrunch your nose. “Nah, that’s all him. Just wait until you’ve been around him long enough to get to the good stuff.”

“The good stuff!” He looks shocked “Well what the hell is all this!”

“This is amazing, but it not… well it’s not him. Theres so much more than sex. Watching tv. Eating dinner in bed. Naps— once he read to me.” You say with a sigh and the room goes silent as you both slip into a day dream laced with Helmuts beautiful voice surrounding you as he reads the classics on a warm summer night…

“You think he sits around daydreaming about us like this?” Bucky asks with a frown. “I worry sometimes.”

“Really?” You ask looking into his big blue eyes. Hundred years old and still so sweet. “Of course he does. Bucky, he wouldn’t have done any of this if he didn’t spend as much time thinking of us as we do him. Don’t be so naive”

He nods looking out the window and you know he’s just out of practice. He probably had a swarm of girls around him back when his life was normal. Maybe even a secret guy. But how long ago had that been. And since he’d been released from the words, his only real time spent with anyone has been with the two of you. For a moment you wonder if that’s fair. He should go out on dates or something, but then again you did try to get him on some apps. He hated them all. Women swiped right like it was their job of course, but he thought it was strange and wanted to meet them the old fashioned way but when he did he could only focus on what he didn’t like and just compared them to you— and Zemo.

“Hey.” You get his attention again. “I mean it, I’m really not upset about anything that happened earlier. Thanks for being such a rule breaker.” You say with a wink.

“No problem” He laughs as if that was his intention. Bucky’s expression softens as he sits back, the water rocking under the bubbles.

Bubbles. Talk about a diva, is anyone is on this big ass boat it’s him. Two adults having a bath drawn from them; why not throw in the bubbles. You roll your eyes ignoring the way your chest gets tight with the feel of being so adored and loving every second of his over the top ways and focus on Bucky who looks stunning in the bath— your heart sinking just a little.

“So what is it?” He asks unaware of your many distractions.

You look back to the window staring up at the sky for a while. “I’m just… sad.” You say giving in to the truth “I mean, I’m thrilled being here. But I’ve had this idea that I could talk you into staying with us. I keep imagining this life with you and Helmut and I know it can’t happen for so many reasons but I’m stubborn and spoiled. I truly hate not getting my way. So I keep thinking, maybe.”

He goes quiet now understanding, and then you feel his hand on your knee under the water. “I know. I’ve thought about it too. Maybe a little too much. Definitely enough that I’ve almost convinced myself it could work, but no. It just wouldn’t.”

You press your lips hesitant to say in case you might offend him but decide to just go for it. “And you’re sure it’s not just that you miss it? Saving the world and everything? I mean, I can see how it would be appealing— from controlled killer to stoic hero.” You tease gently, wiggling your brows up and down until he laughs a little, probably more annoyed than you’d like, and whatever facade you’d put on crumbles. The look of heartbreak turns your brows down, twisting your face with the agony of losing him. He looks surprised to see you so broken about it and finds your hand through the water.

“Hey hey hey.” He pulls but you’re not in the mood to be comforted. Bucky hates when you don’t let him coddle you, but he knows better than to fight it so he simply answers your question. “Yes.Well. No I mean, it’s nice. But honestly, if you really want to know, I could get used to being domesticated.” He shrugs letting go of your hand as he looks towards the shower where Zemo was and you swallow the tears that have been overpowered by your intrigue.

Managing a laugh at his expense you poke his arm on the rim of the tub. “Really? By me or Helmut?” You ask and swear you see him blush.

“You’ve already proven you can turn me into a homebody, and happy to be there, so —Maybe both?” He shrugs and there is such a tone of possibility in his statement that you’re instantly transported into a world in which the three of you are living happily. Maybe in this Mediterranean paradise, you’ve just come home from the market with ingredients for a dinner that Bucky has asked you to pick up and you help him cook while music blasts in your small but bright kitchen and you dance around until the house smells delicious and you set the table, flirting and toying with one another until everything looks beautiful before rushing to sit just as your Baron comes through the door…

Even here and now sitting in the tub with you, Bucky looks like the sweetest house husband glowing a soft gold in the light of the sun. What you wouldn’t give to be his forever. His his and hers, you think and your chin quivers with the threat of happy miserable tears.

Bucky isn’t oblivious to your hurting but he’s trying to keep strong, he can’t give in to you, not this time. “We’ll never know if I stick around.” He says and your little vision fades “I think I’ve got one visit, maybe two in me before someone notices an avenger hanging around their town and his cover is blown. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. I’d never forgive myself."

“I know.” You say and only realize that your head is down when his hand, which is covered in white bubbles reaches to lift your chin.

“Hey, come one. None of that. We’ve only got a little bit of time. I just want to make the most of it. Give me enough good memories to finally forget about whats left of the bad.”

You smile and nod, blowing the bubbles away before they go up your nose. “Fine.” You sigh and look back out the window hugging your knees. “Buck, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He says only cringing a little when you call him Buck.

“Do you think you might ever love him?”

Bucky freezes. He looks— odd. Uncomfortable. Exposed? You realize very quickly that he already does, even if he’s not aware of it and decide not to push him

“It’s okay. I was just curious.” You say and try to calm him with your smile “We come from very different worlds. Letting myself love a man like Helmut Zemo took little to no effort for me, for you— I know why it might come as a shock. But I think you’ll find, when you do admit it to yourself and to him, he might just surprise you with how quickly he says it back.”

[bluscryn]

ℭ𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔫𝔬𝔴

part 1 (we'll see)

a/n: it's the first time I ever share something I created...I'm kind of nervous

warning: sexually explicit content

° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

◇ P R E S E N T ◇

The lace around her neck was supposed to itch. Surely that unforgiving material couldn't have been as comfortable as the young female made it appear. Well, it was understandable in a way.

  That's because Lucinda haven't felt anything in years.

 

  The warm lights of the hotel's restaurant reflected off of her long, chestnut hair. She was sitting on a leather clad bar stool, eavsdropping on a boring conversation. Something about the upcoming election...When did this country stop being a monarchy?

  Funny how time slips by you when you're immortal. One moment you're on a balcony, sipping champagne with the Prince of France and the next you're at your great-grandniece's funeral in the Highlands - the one who had no idea she even had you in her family tree.

  After all, those were the risks you had to take when you decide to dance on the blade of darkness.

  Seemingly bored, Lucinda checked her long nails. Tonight, they were sharpened and painted with a bloody red. But then again, tonight was a special night for her.

   She heard him way before he got close to her. The smile she flashed in his direction could have competed against any shining star.

  In his eyes, Lucinda was the most beautiful woman to ever grace the Earth. What he didn't know was that her beauty was as deadly as cianide.

 

  The warmth of his touch was enough to almost make her melt - almost.

"Peter..." she breathed out, relieved to see him there. "I thought you wouldn't come after all."

"And miss the chance to see my muse? Not in a thousand years." his low voice filled the air, a smile growing on his lips.

His muse...The memory of her, sitting naked on his velvet sofa still lingered in Peter's mind, clear as day.

He was fascinated by her. From her dark, cunning eyes, sharp cheekbones and full lips to her heavenly curves that seemed to have been sculpted by a generous god.

He had written numerous songs about her, but never once mentioned her name. As if spelling out those letters would take away from the mistery of the woman he loved - no, not loved, adored.

Lucinda stood up, the heels making a small, satisfying noise on the marble floor. Even in her highest heels, the woman still had to get on her tip toes to wisper in his ear.

"I think it's time to retreat in my room. Wouldn't you say so?"

  Her voice was like honey to him, the warm breath giving him goosebumps.

"Whatever you want, my love."

His big arm wrapped around her waist, as she tried not to look into his eyes for too long. The icy blue shade was the one that still haunted her dreams.

  Night after night for decades, those eyes tortured every inch of her soul. Only the thought of seeing them again kept her alive.

  The only problem was that Peter was just an unlucky coincidence. Still...her soul could rest, for a while at least.

The minutes spent on their way from the restaurant to the room on the tenth floor passed like seconds. Lucinda was lost in her thoughts.

  Images from the elevator, Peter's lips on her neck and her own trembling fingers on the doorknob flashed before her eyes.

Moments later, her heavy dress was on the polished floor and Peter was lying on the bed, looking at her with hunger in his eyes. Hunger that she felt too, only for something else.

Looking at the strong man on her bed, Lucinda couldn't help but admire him, in a way. He was tall and muscular - she had a taste for men who looked like they could break her in half if they wanted to - with thick black hair that reached his lower back. His eyes seemed to burn holes into her skin and his angular face was partially hidden by shadows. He was beautiful, that was certain. Especially when his veiny hands were wrapped around her slender throat.

In those heated moments, she could close her eyes and pretend he was the man whose eyes she dreamt of every night. But that sweet illusion wouldn't last for long.

Still in her high heels, the woman approached him, with a soft sway of her hips. She shook her head, making her brown curls bounce a little as she stopped in front of Peter.

"Look at you. Still fully dressed, while I'm almost naked."

"Are you going to do something about it?" he asked, with an amused glint in his eyes.

She was going to, indeed.

Stepping out of the shoes, Lucinda climbed into his lap. His scent was intoxicating. Strong cologne adorned his pale skin and she couldn't help but smile.

  Running her fingers along his neck, the woman started kissing his cheek, trailing down to the jaw, the collarbones and even further, as she unbuttoned Peter's white shirt.

  A small moan escaped his sinful lips and Lucinda's whole body tensed. It was a natural reaction, almost an instinct.

  His long fingers were circling up her back and, anticipating his intention, she laughed.

"Not yet, my beloved." 

  The word left a sour taste in her mouth, but her eyes didn't betray that feeling.

 

She tangled her fingers into his hair, at the base of his neck and pulled a little. His eyes widened, only for a moment, as he squeezed her soft hips.

"My bad. Please, go on."

 

  His voice was no more than a wisper now.

  She lowered her free hand down his abdomen, grazing her sharp nails down to his happy trail.

  Biting his pink lips, Peter laid down on his back, letting her take control.

His large palms were sliding up her waist until they reached the lacy black material covering her breasts, but he didn't go any further than that.

 

Lucinda took hold of the heavy belt buckle and, with no struggle, took the belt off. With a satisfied grin, she unbuttoned his pants. Eager to finally get them off, the man raised his hips enough for her to finally throw the material on the floor.

"Mmm..." she mused,  "You're such an obedient man."

"Only for you."

In a matter of seconds, Peter laid his muse on the bed and kissed her feverishly. He slid the bra straps down her shoulders and cupped one breast with his right hand, while supporting his weight with his other hand, as to not crush her.

  Lucinda arched her back, starving for his touch. Licking his bottom lip, she plunged her nails into his back. The man tensed and bit her tounge.

"Marking me already? As if I could belong to anybody else..."

She just laughed and ran her fingers into his hair. Ah, if only he knew...

  Sliding his right hand up, Peter squeezed her throat, choking away the laugh from her beautiful lips.

"Look at me, Lucinda."

  And she did. She really looked at him.    

  For a second, it seemed as if the world froze around them. There was only this moment, only them. She, and his icy blue eyes.

  Not Peter's, his.

  The only man Lucinda has ever loved.

  Her soldier, her saviour.

  The man who left with half of her soul and her whole heart.

  Something switched inside of her and the darkness flooded her veins.

   What was she even doing?!

   Gifting her body like that to a man who wasn't him - the keeper of her heart.

  With a force she rarely showed, Lucinda pushed Peter under her. Her strong thighs were wrapped on either side of his abdomen, forcing him to stay still. Lust filled his eyes, thinking that all of this was part of their erotic game.

"Enough!"

 

  The shriek left her body, as tears began to fall on her cheeks.

He raised his eyebrows, pure concern painted on his face.

"Love, what's wro-..."

His words were interrupted by a sudden scream. His own. Looking down at her, he tried to push the woman off of him.

  It had taken her years to master a certain level of self control. But everything shattered in that moment. The pure terror on Peter's face turned her on. And she grinned.

  Lucinda - the monster, not the woman showed her true nature.

  Her fangs were deep inside the artery that ran down Peter's throat. His warm blood was filling her whole mouth, as she let out a sound similar to a moan. The coppery taste stung her tounge in the most divine way possible. The sensation was pure bliss. She tangled her fingers into his hair, in an attempt to ground herself.

  Then and there, any trace of humanity or sanity left her body. She feasted on the warm liquid like a rabid dog who had been starved for way too long.

  Between the euphoric moments, she felt his body stuggling underneath her.

   It only gave her pleasure, knowing that he was slowly falling apart.

 

   After she drained the last drop of his blood, Lucinda raised her head and looked straight into the mirror in front of her.

   Her hair was wild, framing her face in such a way that it accentuated the wildness in her eyes. Her skin regained a youthful glow, the one that she still had when she was alive. The blood was dripping from her mouth down to her neck and chest.

 

  Crimson on snow white.

  Such a beautiful contrast.

  After years of trying to create a perfect image of herself, Lucinda became, once again, what she had always been.

  A monster.

  One that seduced and drained men for survival.

  

   But only he could love her like that.

   And she was determined to make her soul whole again.