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thewidowsledger · 27 days ago

Text

Mistake

Pairings: Professor!Natasha Romanoff x College Student!Female Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Tags | Warnings: +18 smut, ANGST, vile, mean, obsessive, hurt and dark Natasha, Natasha has a penis, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, hate fuck, crying but def not dacryphilia, kind of dubcon, noncon breeding

Author's Note: This is by far the darkest fic that was requested to me…I might be overreacting but I just a baby. I don't know how Latin honors works from others so I just referenced it to mine. Plot is kind of inspired with the song Teacher's Pet but it's the other way around. Request

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⧗

"What happened to us?" She asked again. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you know yourself wouldn't be willing to give.

Because you just want to forget it, forget it all—forget her.

⧗

"Isn't Y/N your rival since like 8th grade? You always hated the girl man! How come you're confessing your feelings to her on our graduation day?!" Rhodey groaned while rubbing his entire face as he talked to his best friend who just told his deep shocking secret.

"That's when I started loving her too." Tony simply replied.

You and Tony were actually schoolmates since grade school. And you have always been a top performing student ever since, while Tony only got to show his skills and intelligence not until high school—late bloomer as they say.

Who would imagine that the shy weird kid back in grade school would turn into a big massive fuckboy slash science freak in high school until college?

"So what's the plan, man?" Rhodey can only ask. He and Tony have been side by side since forever so there is no way he will not support him in getting to you. "Tony, as much as I want to support you in this…thing. You know your reputation. First, you are Y/N's acads rival, as long as there are numbers and letters and numbers and letters mixed together you are enemies and everybody knows that. Second, you have a reputation of sleeping with so many women. You know you didn't have your name cleared about the sleep night with the entire cheerleading team two years ago, in fact you didn't want your name cleared because you liked having that reputation."

"That was two years ago, I'm different now, at least I am trying too."

"I can't believe this. But honestly, I'd hit that." Rhodey smirked, showing your beach photo wearing a maxi skirt, a crochet top and the black glasses you always wore.

"Okay, enough of that! That's…that girl is mine, man. Please bro code." He snatched his friends' phone away from him and turned it off. Tony doesn't need to look at your photos anymore since he had memorized each photo of yours because he had been checking on your Instagram for at least twice a day.

"I was just joking! Of course I wouldn't." Rhodey chased his phone and was able to get it before Tony put it in his pocket. "So what's the plan? How will you…you know?" He shrugged while looking intently at his friend.

"Don't worry, I'm never running out of plans and pick up lines." He let out a laugh while also flexing his biceps

"Hey, hey! Friendly advice man? Just cut with your bad pick up lines and be a man. You just told me she's the girl you want to marry and she looks like the type who wouldn't fall for jokes or pick up lines. This isn't any rom coms, if you want her to fall in love with you, compliment and admire her mind—her intelligence."

"O…kay…where did that come from? That was a good one, Rhodey. I never thought I would hear that from you." Tony tried not to laugh his ass off, but the words of wisdom his friend just told him was something he needed.

Rhodey just shrugged, a genuine smile on his face showing as he looked at his friend. "I've always had it in me, Tony. It's just you never asked for some advice. Besides, you're different and so am I. And now, seeing you genuinely in love with this girl? I just know you need some unsolicited advice from mister lover boy right here."

"Hey, I'm a mister lover boy too." Tony pouted.

"You can be. But first, we have 8 minutes to get to Mr. Coulson's class."

The two sprinted out of the cafeteria, not even noticing Professor Romanoff sitting in the corner, her nails grazing hard against her own coffee mug.

⧗

"You're not gonna run for Latin?" You asked Tony, you were frustrated, you expected him to be your rival up until the end but when you knew you were the only one who filed for latin honors in your class, you were infuriated. You should be thankful, really, because you have no more competition but…

"I had 2.75 in molecular dynamics in 3rd year, if you didn't know. So basically, I'm not eligible to run for latin since then." You huffed at his reply, you don't know if it's out of disbelief or relief because he had that grade that made him not qualified for latin anymore.

"Did you purposely fail that class?" You asked him suspiciously. "Because I don't want to have this honor if you just basically gave it away. Like what you did in our elemag quiz bee during 10th grade, you said I only won because you basically let me, because you were just forced to join."

Tony pinched his nose, trying to hold a giggle. You are so cute, he thought to himself. Always so competitive and he loved every bit of it.

"I sucked at the subject, I promise, princess." He replied sincerely, not teasingly and provoking like he always was when he talks to you. Like when he tells you to calm yourself down before you internalize everything you had reviewed for a quiz bee, because it's just him you're gonna have to contend in some stupid quizzes.

You hated the man, but he's like a part of your system. You wouldn't function without him infuriating you—without him always competing with you.

"So…congratulations, summa cum laude." You were shocked at his words and genuineness but you didn't let him notice. For once, he didn't annoy you—for once—he's not your rival.

Before Tony could hand you the bouquet of tulips he was holding, a student suddenly rushed up to you.

"Hey, Y/N," the student said, her cheeks blushing as her eyes darted between you and Tony. "Professor Romanoff is asking for you in her office."

Hiding the tulips behind his back, Tony feigned nonchalance while you fought back your irritation. You couldn't believe it—even after all this time, he still had an effect on the women in your school. Unknown to you, the student had glimpsed the flowers he was secretly holding in his hands where she thought were for you.

"R-right now?" You stammered and the student nodded before bidding goodbye to the both of you.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked, noticing you turned pale.

As Tony asked you if you were okay, you found yourself blurting out, "Can you come with me?" You immediately regretted your words, silently cursing yourself for asking for help from the one person you loathed the most.

Despite the tension between the two of you, Tony agreed to accompany you to Professor Romanoff's office. As you walked, he fidgeted awkwardly, still holding the bouquet of flowers behind his back. Whenever you stole a glance in his direction, he'd turn away, so you wouldn't notice the bouquet peeking behind him.

The walk was filled with an uncomfortable silence, neither of you uttering a single word until you reached the professor's office.

Tony was about to reach for the door handle to Professor Romanoff's office, you quickly stopped him, passing him your bag. He shot you a questioning look, his eyes filled with concern as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You just gave him a small nod. He took your bag without protest and offered a reassuring nod in return.

"I'll wait for you here," he said, awkwardly holding your tote bag and wiggling his fingers as you go inside. His other arm was tired from having to hold the bouquet behind his back.

He could give it to you after, he thought.

⧗

You closed the door, but you deliberately left it unlocked. After a moment, Professor Romanoff emerged from the bathroom, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

"Professor." You said, your head bowed in submission. Despite your fear and trepidation, you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze, keeping your eyes on your shoes as you struggled to maintain your composure.

She walked towards you, your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead. Your lips trembled, and your shoulders tensed up as if preparing yourself for the worst. Your shoulders grazed onto each other as she locked the door behind you, trapping you inside with her.

"Is the pictorial done for graduation?" She asked, it came out soft but cold.

You took a deep breath, gathering what little ounce of courage you had left and managed to stammer out, "Yes."

Professor Romanoff's eyes traveled down your body, scrutinizing your outfit. You were wearing a skirt that teetered on the edge of being too short, paired with a fitted white top and a cardigan. You fidgeted under her intense scrutiny, feeling exposed and vulnerable under her stare.

"May I ask why I was being called, professor?" You asked, you bit your lip after for trembling too much.

"You're the only candidate for the Latin honors in our program. I talked to Professor Coulson and others in the faculty, and all of them said that your position is already secured for it not to drop below a 2," she stated. "Many professors are rooting for you to deliver your speech in 5 months."

And you? You desperately want to ask but you hold yourself back, keeping the question locked inside your mind. You wanted to speak less to her as much as possible, so you just nodded.

The room was filled with silence for several minutes, and you just stood there while she was still sitting in her office chair.

"I missed you."

Your heart literally dropped. The last time you had heard those words from her was two years ago, when you both had been caught up in a dirty secret affair.

"Didn't you miss me too? Detka? " You begged in your mind for her to not to call you those russian pet names again, well, it's one of your weaknesses still after so long.

You shook your head side to side in denial and screwed your eyes shut, as if trying to block out the words and the memories they stirred up. The mere thought of admitting to missing her was too much for you to handle—because you did, you missed her so much and you hated yourself for it. So every time your heart flutters when you see her along the hallways, you move to a different direction just to avoid her or if your mind starts to think about her, you immerse yourself in studying which most of the time failed to work.

You tried to be strong and you think you're doing good at it. You told yourself as long as you're not going to be alone with her again, you'd be fine.

And you are definitely not fine right now...

"After you came back from your immersion program, you didn't talk to me anymore..." Her voice was dark and tinged with hurt that had festered over the time you had spent away.

"What happened to us?" She asked again. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you know yourself wouldn't be willing to give.

Because you just want to forget it, forget it all—forget her.

Her words echoed in the air, a single tear slipped down your cheek, your breath growing more labored with each passing second. You couldn't bring yourself to answer her, your throat tight and your body trembling.

"Did you even lo—"

You didn't let her finish, you don't want her to ask you that question because you're afraid about the answer that you had kept hidden, locked in the deep, dark corner of your heart. "What I felt for you was…genuine."

What a nice way to put it.

"Genuine?" She huffed, she could take that one for now, Natasha thought. "If it's genuine then why am I a secret?"

"It was a mistake!" You rushed out before you could even blink. What would people think if they knew? That the top student in the university only got her achievements because she was basically a professor's cock sleeve?

"Nat—Professor…what…what happened before was a mistake. I told you that, right? And you know it too! We talked about it after I went to my immersion, that we'll stop. God, please, you know how wrong it was!" You cried desperately, it's not loud but it's enough for her to hear.

"Mistake?" she snapped and you can see the hurt in her eyes. "The bar, yes. That could be a mistake."

You cleared your throat awkwardly, memories of that night suddenly flooding your mind. The way the two of you danced, the way she laughed, how her lips tasted like whiskey...and then, the realization that hit you both when you're both sobered up. That was the night you slept with her, so much for being drunk you didn't realize it was your professor—the professor you had a crush on.

"What about here?" She pointed to her desk, where she had pounded you for dear life after class because you had joked to her that if you get a perfect quiz then you'll have a reward from her—and you did, she had made you cum twice for the recitation and quiz she had prepared for class, specifically for you. "And there?" You looked towards her sofa, where a lot of things happened between you two. You sucking her when she gets so frustrated during a meeting, riding her if she's too tired from paperworks—all the dirtiest kinks were done on that sofa. Even the softest ones where you both cuddled up after you didn't win the regional college quiz bowl or when you straddled her while teaching her how to tie a necktie.

"Motels, my car, my apartment, here again in my office during prom where you begged me to fuck your ass while wearing your prom queen crown." Her voice grew darker, matching the intense memories playing out in her mind. "Tell me baby, were those a mistake too? It would really hurt my feelings if you said yes."

You sobbed, shaking your head side by side, trying to dispel the memories and she can see the fear and denial in your eyes. You can just walk right now and end this torturous reminiscing. But you felt trapped in place, trapped in those memories, and she was too—she was trapped in the need to make you remember…

"Please, stop." You hiccup, trying to hold back a sob. You continue to shake your head over and over.

"You can't just go around, fuck me up and then say that's it's just a mistake afterwards." She spat, standing to walk towards you.

She loomed over you, her tall frame casting a shadow, making you feel small and vulnerable. She could see you shaking, hear your ragged breathing and it only fueled her frustration.

"Bent over my desk with that perfect little ass in the air, waiting..." She moved closer, her hand reaching out to trace your collarbone.

She watched you scramble to your feet, a dark satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as you approached her desk. She followed close behind, her heels clicking on the floor. When you reached the desk, she pressed a firm hand between your shoulder blades, bending you over it.

As she bent you over, you let out a soft moan, your face pressed against the cool surface of the desk. She could see your body relax, falling into the familiar position. Her hand slowly inched up your skirt, feeling the soft fabric bunch under her fingers. "You still remember, don't you?"

She stepped closer, pressing her length against your backside, feeling the thin barrier of her pants between you two. You found yourself grinding back against her feeling she was growing harder.

"Fuck you're still such a slut for my cock." She smirked as she gripped your waist. "Is it still a mistake? Huh? Slut? You grinding your slutty pussy back against my cock?"

You shook your head side by side, biting your lip to contain your moans.

"I need you to say it, slut." She spat.

"N-no, it's…it's not a mistake, professor." You said in a shaky tone.

Without warning, she reached down and unzipped her pants, pulling out her thick, hard cock. She wrapped her hand around it, stroking it slowly behind your back, the tip rubbing against your ass through your panties. "Fuck, I've missed this," she pressed the head of her cock against your ass, rubbing it against your panties. "Gonna fuck this tight little pussy again, just like old times."

She pushed aside your panties, revealing your vulnerable entrance, "Missed how perfectly you take me..." In one smooth motion, she thrust forward, burying herself deep inside you.

"N-nat!" Your back arched even further as you cried out a breath.

"I missed you calling me by my name." She said in a ragged breath, "I want you to shout it so Stark can hear it behind those doors." Her other hand reached around to grab your hair, tangling it in her fist as she pulled your head back, forcing you to arch your back further and to look at the door of her office where Tony was waiting. You didn't know how she knew Tony was waiting outside for you.

Your voice only seemed to spur her on. She began pounding into you, the rhythm steady and intense. She pulled out slightly, just the tip still inside you, before slamming back in with renewed ferocity. "You made me struggle, everyday, seeing you walk around in those fucking skimpy clothes...and letting anyone touch you, but not me." Each word was punctuated by a brutal thrust. "I didn't reach you because I respect you so much, love you so fucking much. And I know you will run back to me eventually…"

"But you didn't…fuck, you didn't come back to me. Am I…am I that easy? Y/N?" She asked with so much vulnerability and hate. "Do you know how hard it is to watch you go on for a day without me? When I couldn't?"

You felt some hot liquid dripping down onto your bare back, your clothes being bunched up…are those tears? You are too dumbed down to think but you noticed how Natasha held back a sob, covering up trying to sound cold and resentful towards you.

"Natasha…" you called out to her, you wanted to hold her against you but she snapped forward continuously and sloppily, hitting a spot inside you that made you whimper. "F-fuck!" You cried, it was loud and that made you cover up your own mouth.

Her climax hit and she buried herself to the hilt inside you, holding perfectly still as she rode out her orgasm. Waves of her hot cum filled your pussy, coating your insides, but she didn't say a word, she didn't tell you or even warn you. She just stayed frozen, her body shaking with the intensity of her release.

She gazed down, biting her trembling lip as she observed her cock, slick with both your arousal and her release, still buried deep inside you. A shudder ran through her as she felt the last drops of cum seep out on the tip of her shaft. Slowly pulling out, she couldn't help but moan softly at the erotic sight of her thick cum slowly oozing out of your well-used pussy. You innocently wiggle your ass as you move and it only intensified the lewd display.

You stood all by yourself and she calmly situated herself back into her leather office chair, cleaning herself up, refusing to look at your trembling form.

"N-nat?" You called, a tear running down your cheeks. You saw her reddened eyes and flushed cheeks—you were right—she was crying, but so are you. You slowly backed away, frantically tugging at your disheveled clothes, you could feel her cum still dripping slowly into your panties.

"Nat? Can we talk?" You tried again, you didn't like the feeling of this. You felt used.

"You can go now." She said flatly, her voice devoid of any emotion.

You walked towards the door, desperation etched on your face, hoping for some kind word, any sign of affection. You hated yourself for expecting some that you wanted to slap yourself. You frantically swiped at your wet cheeks, trying your best not to break down in front of her. But no matter how hard you rubbed, more tears spilled out. You couldn't catch a break, each blink bringing forth a new wave of salty drops.

And her? She just sat there, staring at her computer screen, her expression cold and heartless as if nothing happened.

She has done her plan for you anyways. So there is nothing to talk about anymore, the last thing on her list is you running back to her.

As you rushed your way out, you saw your bag on the chair with a bouquet of flowers. "Hey, Y/N. This is for you, I had to leave for the chess team. I really hate doing this but I'd like you to be my date on senior night. —T.S."

You could only huff, your brows pinching together to hold the tears that are threatening to fall again. But you weren't able to help it, you ended up having a break down outside her office, with the flowers on your arm and the evidence of what she did to you still oozing inside of you.

⧗

"Ladies and gentlemen, faculty, family, friends..." Your voice cracked slightly, betraying your nerves, but you steadied yourself, refusing to let the ghosts of the past dictate this moment. "We've worked tirelessly, overcome obstacles, and in some cases, experienced pain both personal and academic."

You glanced down at your notes, a faint smile playing on your lips as you continued. "I'd like to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support, my blockmates for turning sleepless nights into unforgettable memories, and lastly, I want to express my deepest gratitude to the professors who have molded us into the graduates we are today."

As you scanned the audience, your gaze landed on Professor Romanoff, who sat upright, her expression unreadable. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. With a deep breath, you concluded your speech. "Thank you, and congratulations to the class of 2025!"

The graduation ceremony drew to a close, and the air was filled with joyous cheers and the clicking of cameras. As you mingled with your fellow graduates, collecting well-wishes and hugs, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It seemed like everyone was drawn to you—your classmates, their families, even some of the professors. You were the center of attention, the summa cum laude, the valedictorian.

As you made your way through the crowd, congratulations ringing in your ears, a different sort of tension gripped you. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the growing pressure and the whispers that began to rise around you. Your swelling stomach was becoming more prominent by the second, stretching the fabric of your gown. You caught a few raised eyebrows and exchanged looks of confusion among your peers, their eyes glued to you.

The whispers grew louder, more urgent, as realization dawned on everyone. The batch valedictorian delivered her speech with a baby bump that had been concealed beneath flowing gowns and baggy clothes all semester, but now...there was no hiding it. Exactly four months along, your secret was suddenly the most spoken topic at this joyous event.

Tony stood near enough to be seen by you, a bouquet of roses hiding behind his back. He had been about to confess his feelings, to tell you that your intellect and beauty had captivated him all these years you had been rivals. But now, as he noticed the unmistakable curve of your belly…you noticed how he stepped back. His perfectly prepared speech shattered in his mind.

He walked away from you as if he was disappointed in you. At the same time you could feel the shift in the atmosphere, not just from him but the disappointment radiating off the crowd like a physical force.

You tried to smile to those around you to mask the dam that is going to break soon, but you still held your chin up with the little courage and confidence you had left in you.

"Mama, I'll just talk to someone. I'll meet you in the car." Your mother has been very supportive of you, yes, she scolded you when she got the news that you were pregnant. She always looked up and expected more from you, but still, she accepted and took care of you.

With a deep breath, you marched down the corridor towards her office. There were no people around and that's when it suddenly hit you. Tears started rushing down your cheek as your heels clicked urgently against the polished floor even though your OB gyne told you to stop wearing elevated shoes, you wiped them away frantically because you don't want to face her feeling vulnerable like this. The determination etched on your face chased away any lingering doubts. You were going to face this head-on, consequences be damned.

As you pushed open the door, she glanced up from her desk, surprise momentarily flashing across her features before smoothing into a smirk.

She leaned back in her leather chair, folding her hands atop the polished wood. "Y/N, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"Natasha…" you stepped forward, your hand traveling down your stomach. Your built up mask breaking, feeling vulnerable and exposed in front of her. You held back your tears, shaming yourself. "I have never been with anyone but you. I'm pregnant…I—I think you got me—"

She got your message, of course she did. Because this is exactly how she planned it to be, her claiming you in a way you didn't expect, you running back to her all vulnerable, and her turn saying…

"It was a mistake."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow

762 notes · View notes

cyberm4n · 11 months ago

Note

You've now filled my head with nothing but Alastor and Lucifer brainrot. Any other sharing thoughts you have for them? (I cannot stop thinking about them, I quite literally thought about them sharing me during my entire 8hr retail shift yesterday)

alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 3!

pt1, pt2

this was highly requested, thank you all for the love <3 im tagging anyone who asked/was fine with it last time but now you can fill out this taglist form to ensure you're tagged for future posts!

tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix @reaper-of-light-12 @ambi-squirrelly @hazelfoureyes @meggletoomanyfandoms @afernandez21

cw: angst ig?? idk reader is upset cause they keep fighting, general relationship issues for a moment, smut, reader gets eaten out, there's some light praise and condescension i think, alastor has a master kink, alastor discovers he LOVES eating pussy, there's like a weird sexual tension between alastor and lucifer for the majority of this if you squint, the ending is VERY suggestive

other: not 100% happy with formatting on this but i wrote majority of it on a 6 hour flight so like. you win some you lose some. not proofread that well, i kind of ramble at times too but it's fine. 2.1k word count and half of it is formatted in a headcanon cuase, again, lazy 6 hour writing. i also don't use the bolding and coloring that much cause it'd be a lot of work.

left the ending a little open, will probably do a poll tomorrow on if people want me to take this that direction.

■ okay so sex aside i would think outwardly everyone knows you're in a relationship with lucifer at the very least

■ but it's kept lowkey with the other part of the relationship

■ which both are fine with btw

■ lucifer loves pda so he's happy, alastor isn't a fan so it's whatever

■ the public part works out because alastor would genuinely be worried about someone trying to use you to get to him

■ it's bad enough that it's known the king of hell has a new partner, but nobody knowing that if they fuck with you they're fucking with the king of hell AND the radio demon is a silent advantage

■ if anyone knows, it's charlie. but only to the extent of like the fact it's a hinge relationship, everything else she doesn't know and honestly doesn't need to know

■ she's just happy her dad seems happy and is getting along better with alastor

■ i think alastor is the kind to really start caring during the relationship vs. lucifer caring about you deeply before

■ so occasionally alastor will pull you aside, or if no one is watching will just press a quick kiss on your forehead.

■ meanwhile lucifer is always making it known he's in love with you

■ arm around your shoulder, holding your hand, everything

■ again, alastor doesn't really mind unless lucifer decides to be an ass abt it

■ look they still compete with each other sometimes they can't help it

■ then it becomes a game of how much the other can get away with before you either get upset or it's too telling

■ that's the other thing is like, the competing gets really fucking annoying to you

■ we saw them in hells greatest dad it wasn't a want to be a better dad it's just wanting to out do the other

■ and when it transfers to your relationship it gets agitating fast

moving on

■ relationship side alastor isn't as involved with that

■ but if either of them did something that upset you or like there was a lovers quarrel between you and either side it's a big deal to them

■ especially if you're only upset with one half of the hinge

■ cause like, sure, they could compete with each other and purposefully drive you apart

■ but tbh.. both of them lowkey like this arrangement much more than they thought they would

■ so they end up talking to each other about it and figuring out what to do

■ same if you're upset with both

■ not that you're upset often it's just that when you are it's usually cause they crossed a line in their little competition

■ and they hate making their girl feel like a prize to be won :(

■ whatever their solution is, they do it together.

■ show you they can get along, that they both care about you enough

■ you're in your room, a bit of a blow up happened earlier after they got into one of their arguments

■ it's not that you genuinely think theyre using you to get to the other but sometimes with the way they act it's easy to doubt

■ anyways, they both come in, it's late

■ i cry when im frustrated/upset and i think it's a pretty normal reaction, so let's just say you're crying a little

■ they're both immediately at your side, apologizing profusely

■ you've never cried like this before

■ it scares them. alot.

■ for once there's absolutely no competition, the only worry is making you feel better.

■ both sitting next to you on the couch, lucifer murmuring how much he loves you, and how he knows how much alastor cares for you

■ i hate the whole "alastor doesn't understand emotions" thing because he does. he has to, he knows how to read people well.

■ it's just he hasn't ever comforted someone

■ he doesn't know what to do when someone he cares about is upset

■ so he's glad lucifer is here, as alastor just sits at your side nodding along and gently rubbing your back

■ alastor only tunes back in when lucifer offers to give some space for the night, and a little murmur from you agrees but asks they both come to bed that night

■ given its usually only lucifer who actually sleeps in the same bed as you alastor is surprised

■ but lucifer is beckoning him out for some space.

"cmon, we'll be back in an hour yeah?" he chimes from the door, and with a squeeze of your shoulder alastor is out of the door, but he opts to walk along with lucifer. "we gotta do better" lucifer sighs as he walks, not looking over at alastor. he's not accusing alastor, he seems equally disappointed in both of them.

"for her?" alastor adds, and lucifer gives a hum of agreement. "this while ordeal has been quite... stressful as of late, no?" alastor adds, "to our own faults, yes" lucifer murmurs, giving a sigh. alastor nods, and the two men walk in silence for some time, ending up in the parlor, husk far since gone to bed. "want anything?" lucifer pulls alastor back to reality once again, he's standing behind the bar while alastor had been staring off, his mind running with thoughtd of god knows what.

"whiskey, my friend?" alastor suggests, and giving it a considerate thought lucifer pours two glasses. the silence falls over them again, just the sound of the clink of their glasses on the counter.

"so tell me, how do you do it when you pleasure her?" alastor breaks the silence, lucifers eyes dart up to him. thinking for a moment before replying "i don't really think tonight is the time for that—" lucifer says, but in a gentle tone.

"no no, in the morning." alastor says, staring down at his glass. "you two indulge often in the morning, correct?" alastor says, now his eyes uncomfortably on lucifer. Watching as the other man almost pales a little, swallowing thickly.

lucifer immediately falters, giving a sigh. "look it's not— i‐ that's not her fault–" lucifer immediately starts, assuming this is a confrontation. his eyebrows raise as alastor shakes his head. "oh please, if i had problem with it i would have done something" he says, a static crackle echoing through the room. "no, i want to know how you do it when you... when it's just about her. how can i do the same?" alastor asks, and this is even more surprising to lucifer than this whole fucking idea in the first place.

■ so lucifer of course explains some stuff to him, of course it's hard because unless he's done it before it's hard to articulate some of his "moves"

■ i mean lucifer can hardly resist going down on you everytime, he's definitely experienced but it's hard to transfer that knowledge at times

■ but he's impressed alastor even asked

■ so when they return to your room, they're a lot more calmer with each other than before.

■ that night changed a lot between them tbh

■ it's slightly awkward for both of them when everyone gets settled in the bed

■ you're on your back, lucifer on your right side and alastor on the left.

■ they're both holding you to the best of their abilities

■ lucifer gives alastors hand a squeeze before shuffling it to have a better grasp on your waist

■ you all peacefully sleep through the night, not shifting much but it's pretty comfortable

■ is the morning you're mostly cuddled into alastor, which is entirely lucifers doing

■ when you're all awake though alastor gets arguably nervous

■ but you being you, you slump over onto alastors chest, murmuring some affection to him

■ lucifer gives a nod, it's time.

■ he'd honestly probably move to get out of bed, assuming some privacy is wanted

■ but he feels a shadow wrap around his forearm, it's a light pressure

■ alastor shakes his head, mouthing a small "please"

after lucifer processes for a moment what exactly is about to go down, he's okay with that. he settles back in, his eyes on the two of you as alastor tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips. "my dear, would you mind if i tried something a little different with you?" alastor chimes, and you blink your eyes open again, still a bit sleepy as you give a nod.

he gently maneuvers you on the bed so you're laying on your back, his hands pawing at your sleep shorts and pulling them to your ankles. lucifer watches, honestly a little mezmerized by the whole ordeal. he feels proud in an odd sort of way. “I think our little doe deserves a treat, would you like that?” alastor murmurs as he spreads your thighs open. You take a shaky breath before murmuring some form of agreement, maybe even a little plea.

without further prodigy, alastors finally leans down his tongue swiping down your folds, hands grasping your hips to pull you to his face. your hands go to hold lucifers, but he shakes his head tutting at you. “ah ah, that’s not very polite princess” he chides softly, guiding your hands to alastors hair.

and alastor makes good use of the tips and information lucifer gave him, his tongue plunging into your sweet little hole as his nose bumps your clit. his eyes wander up, making eye contact with you as he eats you out so wonderfully. you tug at his hair and he practically growls in pleasure, opting to change tactics and focus his mouth on your clit while his fingers slide inside you, gently curling into your sweet spot.

and lucifer watches it all, absolutely mesmerized. he doesnt know what it is about watching this but theres something about knowing alastor is doing exactly as told to in this scenario that makes lucifer feel warm. he lets alastor steal the show, doing only minimal work. maybe hes softly cooing praises or gently reminding you to show your appreciation to the one making you feel this good.

as you get close, evident by the murmur that falls past your lips, alastors eyes snap to lucifers for a moment, and he takes a moment to think before understanding. usually when youre close alastor is all over you, telling you to be such a good girl and cum, just slight praises and coaxing. given the fact hes face deep in your sweetness he cant really do that, so that job is up to lucifer now.

“isn’t alastor doing such a good job duckling? you want to make sure he knows how good hes treating you, dont you?” lucifer coos, scooting in behind you on the bed so you stop trying to writhe away. “I think he’d be so disappointed if you didnt cum for him, you think you can do that, hm? you wanna cum all over your masters tongue?” lucifer says directly in your ear, and alastor feels a bit of a warmth in his stomach by being referred to as “master”

when you give a weak moan in response lucifer sighs, shaking his head. “be a good girl now, you can do it little doe” he says which is what sends you toppling over the edge, your hips rutting up into alastors mouth, whiny moans coming from you as alastor desperately licks up your sweet release. this whole thing was quite enjoyable for alstor, but hearing lucifer call you “little doe” his petname for you made him smugly satisfied.

after some aftercare which mostly just involved more cuddling, alastor feels satiated enough to shift to leave, before getting a look from lucifer. he reluctantly stays, feeling as you come to lay at his side once more. lucifer seems to take note of something, giving alastor a nod down, he glances down, seeing the obvious tent in his pants. alastor looks back up, slightly annoyed. a like “yeah, no shit dumbass” kind of look is exchanged.

alastor looks back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sigh happily. but alastor tenses as he feels a hand on his knee, shooting a glare to lucifer as he traces his hand up a little. the two meet as and alastor takes a shaky breath as lucifer leans in just a little, breathing out the next few words with a calmness alastor admires:

“just keep cuddling her”

#lucifer smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar #radioapple #alastor the radio demon #alastor x lucifer #smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer

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dreamcatchers-husband · 11 months ago

Text

A Business Proposal

Male Reader X Fromis_9 Nakyung

Length: 12.6k+ Words

Tags: Angry sex. Teasing. Creampie

A/n- So the winner of the poll was was post it now. So here you go. Been a while since a new fic but this is in honor of my two years of writing smut on tumblr. Hope you enjoy.

Business proposals. It probably isn't a lie when you say they probably happen every day. Sometimes they can be rather fair for both sides but in your case, you couldn’t be more annoyed.

“What do you mean I have to marry her? And in a month and a half also?”

Your parents rolled their eyes as they then placed a contract in front of you.

“Look. Their company has always been a great partner of ours and this could help elevate both of us to the top. This union will combine both our profits and make our wealth reach new heights. The day you marry her, you will officially become the chairman of C Industries. If you don’t marry her then we will look for another board member to take the place. Please don’t make us do that.”

Your mother and father were hard workers. It took them 27 years but they managed to develop a company that was second to none. Now what was this company focused on? Honestly? Everything. C industries were just a jack of all trades. Tech development, construction of apartments, agriculture. Those were just a few things. It always amazed you how they managed to build their empire and you knew it was yours eventually until now.

You were destroyed hearing those words. Years of hard work would be ruined over one decision your parents made without warning.

“Shit. Are you going to make me do this?”

“Yes, Yejun. Now it’s it a yes or a no?”

Sadly there was only one answer.

5 frantic weeks went by as both companies got together and worked out the merger. Most of your days went by with you attending meetings from 7 in the morning until 8 at night. You met with lawyers from both sides as well as your parents and future in-laws but one certain lady was always missing.

Despite this marriage being forced on you. You were going to be a good husband and love and support your wife. So of course you were wondering about her after all this time. Currently, your meeting was ending with the Lee’s so you knew it would be the best time to ask.

“Excuse me, Mr. Lee. If I may ask, where has Nagyung been this entire time? Me and her will be running this company together yet she hasn’t even shown up for a single meeting.”

“Ah. She has been very busy deciding things for your wedding with the planner. We haven’t seen much of her either. We just get updates over some phone calls. You must be excited to meet your future wife. Why don’t you go give her a visit? She has her place in the city and I’m sure it would give the Two of you some time to connect. I will send you the address as well as the passcodes to enter.”

“Are you sure it’s ok for me to enter?”

“Of course, Yejun. You will be married in a few weeks. If she gives you any problems just tell us.”

“Very well Mr Lee. I will head over tonight when I get a chance.”

“Very well. I wish you a good night and hope to see you soon again.”

With a handshake, everyone in the room parted their own ways. Your parents didn’t even stay as they gave you a wave goodbye. Looking to the right, your eyes looked up at the clock and saw that it was 5 pm. Today was one of the lucky days you all ended it early. With the idea of visiting Nagyung fresh in your mind, you quickly gathered your things and went towards the elevator.

After a few seconds, the familiar ring echoed out in the hallway. The doors to the machine opened and you entered. The ride down to the garage took a bit as you were on the 45th floor. After about a minute and thirty seconds, the same ding came back and doors opened.

Respect is what could be felt in the air. As people passed you, they all took the time to stop and give you a bow. Of course, they would show that kind of respect to the future CEO. Despite that, you felt a bit weird and appreciated when they treated you like anyone else. You never wanted the money or power to get to your head. You hope it never does.

As you finally arrived at the black vehicle, your hands brought out the key fob and unlocked the car. The little chirp from your Toyota brought a smile to your face. You had just bought it a few days ago and loved having a state-of-the-art car for the first time in your life. Once in the driver seat, your foot stepped on the break and you pressed the start button. As the car roared to life, you waited a few seconds until the display screen in the middle of the console was active. Once up, you could see there was a Message from Mr.Lee. In the text was the address so you just clicked on it and your car put it in the GPS. With the instructions not playing in the speakers, you put the car in drive and took off.

A few minutes passed as you drove away from the company building. Taking a glance at the time, you saw it was 5 pm and a typical dinner time. With the GPS saying you were 5 minutes away, you began to glance around and look for some food. With your eyes scanning all the buildings, they eventually saw a large neon sign that caught your attention.

Seeing an open spot near the store, you turned your wheel and parked right in front of the building. Turning the engine off, you quickly jumped out and walked to the front door of the restaurant. The name “Very Very Good Chicken” certainly caught your attention.

As you pulled the glass door open, the strong fragrance of chicken hit your nose. By just a few smells you got, it was going to be good. Going up to the counter, a young man could be seen just standing behind the counter. His attention was facing down, so you could tell he was just on his phone.

As you finally reached the register, it took the young. Man, a minute to notice you were there. The sudden jolt from the man scared you since you scared him. Both of you began to laugh at this and calmed down after a few seconds.

“Sorry. Welcome to Very Very Good Chicken. What can I get for you?”

“Hi. Could I get half and half of the Ganjang and Yangnyeom flavors?”

“Of course. So half and half of the Ganjang and Yangnyeom flavors. Would you like any drinks to take with you as well or just the chicken?”

“Hmmm. How about a bottle of draft beer?”

“A bottle of draft beer. So in total, it’s the chicken and the beer. Your total will be 35,000 Won. How would you like to pay?”

Handing over your card the young man quickly swiped it and then handed it back.

“Please give us like 15 minutes to get that ready for you sir. Thank you for buying with us.”

Nodding towards him, your legs brought you over to an empty seat and you waited for the food. The 15 minutes went by in a flash as you saw the young man walking over with the bags of food. Standing up, your right hand extended and you took hold of the plastic.

“Thank you for buying. Hope to see you again!”

“Thank you!”

Walking out of the building, you immediately arrived at your vehicle and placed the food on the passenger seat. Getting back in the car, you took a look over your left and pulled out of the spot. Your GPS continued to direct you toward the large apartment building. After the Five-minute drive, you pulled into a large parking lot that was across the building. Your Toyota certainly stuck out from the various nice-looking cars that were stationed there.

Despite that, you parked your car in the first spot you could find. With the engine turned off, your hand took hold of the plastic bag and hopped out of the vehicle. Your footsteps brought you to the front door where a doorman was ready to let you in. Thanking the man, you made your way inside the building and took a look around. The giant glass chandelier in the center of the lobby certainly brought all eyes to it.

Moving past it, you eventually made it toward some elevators in the backside of the lobby. Pressing the circular button, your leg began to bounce as you waited for the elevator. A few more seconds passed until a ding echoed out in the lobby. With the door in front of you opening, you quickly hopped on the elevator and pressed the button to the 22nd floor. With the doors closing, all you could do was wait until you were on the correct floor.

A little jingle played in the metal cage as you stood there with the food. Honestly, you weren’t quite sure how to say Hi to Nagyung. Well hi was the least of your concerns. What would you talk about with your fiancé?

Your time to brainstorm ran out as the same Sound as before hit your ears. With the doors opening to your desired floor, you began to walk off the elevator and take a look around. On both sides, apartments lined down the hallways. In front of you was a sign. In the black font, you saw that on the right-hand side were all apartments from 2210- 2220. On the left-hand side were apartments 2200-2209. With a glance at your mobile device, you took a glance at the text and saw that Nagyung lived in apartment 2220.

As you moved down the right-hand side, your eyes scanned all of the apartment buildings until you reached the end of the hallway. With the number in front of you, your right hand went up and formed into a fist. Hesitation is what you felt until a sudden boost of confidence brought you to knock on her door.

Silence was all that could be Heard. A few seconds passed as you were getting ready to knock again. Before your right hand could hit the door, the sound of the lock being undone began to come from the door. As the white door pulled back, your eyes were met with a strange man who happened to be shirtless.

“Fucking finally. Forty-five minutes for damn fried rice.”

You didn’t even have time to react as the bag of food was snatched from your hand. A wad of cash was then thrown at your face as the man slammed the door. Were you at the wrong Apartment? Taking your phone back out, you decided to send a message to Mr. Lee. Your message only repeated the address back to the man. It didn’t even take ten seconds for the name to respond saying it was correct.

Now you were beyond confused. Who the hell was that man? Bringing your ear to the door, muffled sounds passed through but you could hear laughter coming from a couple of people. It could be seen as rude but now you needed to know what was going on. With the keypad on the left side of the door, your fingers put in the code that was given to you.

12418 imputed. You then pushed the door and were met with a house hallway. Stepping in, you gently closed the door behind you and lurked forward. A couple of nice-looking jackets were on the right-hand side. On the left side was a small wooden table with some car keys. The Bentley logo was very easy to see from the back of the key fob. Obviously, she had a very nice car. As you finally arrived at the end of the hallway, your eardrums picked up about three different voices who were joking around.

“What the fuck? This is chicken, not fried rice. I’m gonna yell at this place!”

Walking out of the hallway, you were met with The three individuals who happened to all be undressed. Nakyung as well as the man from the door yelled but you also noticed another young woman who just ran to cover her exposed body.

“YEJUN! WHAT THE FUCK?”

“Your parents said I could come and visit you. They gave me the code to your door.”

“Wait. You know this creep? Isn’t he the delivery boy?”

“Are you really that stupid Sangjun? That’s Choi Yejun. The future CEO of the company once the merger happens.”

“That doesn’t explain why he’s here?”

“Well, I came to visit my Fiancé. I didn’t expect to find her naked with another man and woman.”

The man’s expression changed from anger to shock when he heard those words.

“FIANCÉ? YOU TOLD ME THE MERGER WAS JUST THE MERGING OF THE COMPANIES! YOU ARE MARRYING THE NEW CEO?”

The young man quickly threw on his pants and then bowed before you.

“Sir I am so sorry. She never told me she was going to be married. I can’t lose this job!”

“Leave, and never disrespect a delivery driver like that again.”

“Thank you, sir!”

As he ran away, you took a glance at Nagyung and the other woman who were now clothed.

“Saerom unnie. Can you please give me and Yejun some privacy?”

The young woman gave your fiancé a nod and then walked deeper into the apartment.

As your eyes met with Nagyung’s, you could tell she was beyond annoyed.

“My parents really gave you the code to enter my home?”

“Your father said it was ok since we are going to get married soon. I’m sorry I’m still just confused. Who were those two?”

“I don’t think you deserve to know that info considering you broke into my home.”

“Look I know I did barge in but your father said I could. Who were they?”

Nagyung rolled her eyes and began to walk away from you. Following behind her, the two of you eventually reached a nice kitchen. The expensive appliances as well as granite countertops let you see the girl lived in such luxury. From a topside cabinet, the young woman pulled out a glass and a bottle of scotch. Pouring the brown substance into the glass, Nagyung took a seat in the nice leather chair and looked at you.

“Saerom Unnie is one of my assistants. I have a couple of other girls who work for me. Sangjun is just someone in the marketing department of my father's company.”

“That still doesn’t explain why he was naked. Or why your assistant was naked as well.”

“You can’t be that’s stupid. What do men and women do when they are naked together?”

Sure you weren’t dense but somehow your brain was trying to convince you that they were participating in some other activity.

“But why? We’re eng-“

“Engaged? That wasn’t my idea. The only reason this is happening is because my father said I had no other option. The company merger was going to happen. This way my family still kept their wealth and power and a say in the company. Did you want this to happen? I can’t say I would blame you for wanting to marry such a beautiful girl like me.”

“No. I didn’t want this. My parents threaten to take away my birthright. I would not be the CEO of C Industries unless I married you as a favor to your parents. Now I didn’t want this b-“

“I’m going to stop you there. We both didn’t want this so why are you getting mad? I’m going to be very blunt right now. I love sex. I honestly can never have enough of it so I sleep with any man or woman who even gives me a fuck me look. We are going to get married but I’m still gonna be looking for sex. Look Yejun, you look like a sweet guy but you probably can satisfy me at all in bed. I will act like a good wife in public but I am going to live my life how I want. So if you are now well informed then get the fuck out of my house.”

The way Nagyung spoke to you made you angry yet you also felt sad. Your body reacted on its own as you began to walk towards the exit. Everything was a blur as you were finally back in your car. The anger and sadness remained. Angry that your future wife thought you less of a man. Perhaps you were wondering why you were sad. Well, you always thought you would marry a woman that loved you back. Now that dream. No, fantasy is now gone.

As you pulled out of the driveway, you began to drive home in an almost robotic state. Fifteen minutes passed as you arrived at your apartment building. Pulling Into the garage, you made your way over to your designated spot and parked in it. Stepping out from your black vehicle, your legs brought you to the entrance where you scanned your keycard. With it unlocked, you made your way over to the small dinky elevator that was already there. Hopping in, the doors slowly closed with a bit of squeal behind them.

With the elevator going up, you didn’t have to wait more than twenty seconds to reach the 3rd floor. Walking out of the elevator, you walked to the right side and made it to the first door there. Taking out your key, the piece of metal then entered the key slot and turned to the left. Pushing your door open, you then made your way in and closed the door behind you.

Taking your shoes off, you left them near the door and walked to your couch. Unlike Nagyung, your home honestly was not the best. You didn’t see much of a need for an expensive home. It was all about what you made with the space you had. Wasn’t much but you loved this place. As you slowly removed some of your clothes on the couch, your phone began to ring in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw it was Mr.Lee.

“Hello, Mr.Lee. How are you?”

“I’m doing well, Yejun. Did you go see my daughter?”

……..

Silence. What could you even say to him?

Oh yeah, I went to see her and she told me she’s gonna be getting railed 24/7 by men and women who aren’t married to her. How she’s told me she’s going to constantly cheat on me? Should you say something?

“Yejun? Are you still there?”

“A-Ah yes. We had a little bit of a chat. She was busy with the preparations so it was just a short talk. I’m sure we will talk more.”

“Oh I’m sorry she was busy but I’m glad you got to talk a little bit with her. Why don’t I schedule a dinner for you and her so you get to know each other better.”

“Oh you don’t have to-“

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll set it up for tomorrow night. 7 pm and I will send you the location.”

You didn’t even have time to respond as the phone call ended. How would dinner even go? Guess that was a problem for tomorrow. For now, you should just rest.

7 pm came faster than you anticipated. Your future father-in-law reserved a dinner at Lotte Tower. Honestly, it was all uneventful as you arrived at your table. The view out into Seoul was just amazing. You had personally never eaten at this place but you were plenty excited now. A young waitress at the time walked over and placed a glass of red wine in front of you. With a nod, you grabbed the glass and took a sip. Looking at your watch you saw it was 7 pm exactly, so your date of sorts would be arriving soon.

One minute passed, then two, and then three. Soon it was ten minutes. By this time you could already imagine what happened. You were stood up. At least you thought you were until a young woman walked up to you.

“M-May I take a seat? I’m here on behalf of your fiancé.”

With a nod, the young woman took a seat across from you and grabbed the cup of water. Bringing it up to her red lips, the girl began to drink the glass of water until the glass was empty. Placing it down, her eyes met with yours and she quickly looked down.

“Hello, sir. My name is P-Park Jiwon and I will be your new personal assistant.”

“When did I hire you?”

“A-Actually, your Fiancé assigned me to the position. I was working at The Lee company already as her assistant but reassigned me. She already spoke to your parents and hers and they approved.

You weren’t even married yet and this woman was already making decisions for you.

“And let me guess. She’s currently not here because she went to meet up with one of her appointments.”

“Y-Yes sir.”

“Of course she is. Well then I guess-“

At that time, the young waitress brought over two plates of food and placed them in front of the two of you.

“Well, this food shouldn't go to waste. Eat with me. Let’s get to know each other if we are going to be working together.”

Jiwon looked a little hesitant but as you raised your wine glass to her with a smile, she nodded her head and raised her own.

Two hours passed and your table was full of laughter. This nervous girl was wacky and funny. You could tell that working with her was going to be a fun time. Since your dinner was over, the two of you walked out to your car and you helped her get in. You would end up dropping off at her home and then going back to your own.

A week passed and you found yourself moving things into your new office. As you placed your knick-knacks on the shelves on the right wall, a knock was heard at your door. From behind the door; Jiwon came and smiled at you.

“Ok, I think that’s everything, Mr. Choi. That last of your things were in the box.”

“When we are alone you don’t need to call me Mr. Choi. Yejun is fine. And thank you for the help.”

“Of course Mr.- I mean Yejun. So what’s next?”

As Jiwon walked over, her eyes didn’t notice one of the empty boxes near you. Before you could warn her, the young woman tripped and started falling forward. Extending your arms, you managed to catch Jiwon before she smashed her face into the floor.

“You ok Jiwon?”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you.”

“Well, don’t you two look nice and cozy.”

You took a look in the direction of the voice and were met with a glare from your fiancé. Jiwon quickly stood up and got away from you. Bowing towards her, Nagyung got closer and got face to face with Jiwon.

“Why don’t you go get me a coffee, Jiwon?”

“Yes, Ms.Lee.”

Running out of your office, Nagyung came over and glared at you now.

“Was it you?”

“What was me?”

“Did you tell the media we’re getting married?”

“No. I did not.”

“DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME.”

“Watch your fucking tone with me. Why the hell would I tell the media?”

“Because it played out exactly how you would want it. Everyone now knows I’m engaged and going to be married. No man wants to risk pissing you off so they all cut their ties to me. None of them will fuck me. Sure I still got some girls to mess around with but I need a man to please me.”

“Nagyung. I did not tell the media. It probably just made its way out. Maybe this will be a way for you to stop this little habit you have.”

“Oh shut up. You’re probably looking forwards to fucking your assistant. What the hell did I walk into?”

“She fell. I caught her. Don’t try to assume you know me.”

“Whatever. Since the news is out, the media will be outside our wedding. When we pass the camera’s we will be the perfect couple. Do what you need to do so that narrative will play out.”

You hadn't noticed Nagyung had a tight hold on your arm until she let go. Walking towards the door, Jiwon almost bumped into Nagyung as she was returning. Nagyung took the cold cup from Jiwon's hand and left your office. That nervous girl you had met at dinner returned around her. It’s something you hated to see.

“I’m sorry about that Jiwon.”

“It’s ok. She’s been like that for the two months I worked for her.”

“Well, I will make sure it stops. Don’t you worry about that.”

Jiwon’s frown turned into a smile when you told her that. In a short time, you already cared for this girl. You would make sure to protect her the best you could.

The chirping from birds let you know it was the next day. A little look from your crusty eyes saw that it was seven am. You had to be at the shop to get your hair done by eight. Begrudgingly, your legs threw your covers off of you and made their way to your slippers. Standing up, you managed to tumble your way to the shower and hop in once the dirty pajamas were off.

You knew your time was short so you made your shower quick. That cold water surely helped you to wake up. Since you were in a bit of a hurry, you took your time in the shower to also brush your teeth. Some people might be disgusted but you do what you need to when you're short on time.

Getting out of the shower, you managed to empty your bladder and run back out to your room. From your dresser came a casual pair of underwear, sweatpants and a shirt. Throwing them on, you then made your way to your kitchen and grabbed a few cookies from a container. Shoving them in your mouth, you then got to your shoe stand grabbed the comfiest pair of sneakers, and threw them on. Looking up at your clock on the wall, you saw it was 7:20 already.

Grabbing the keys to your vehicle, you rushed your way towards it.

The drive was uneventful as you arrived at the shop with 15 minutes to spare. With your parked near the building. You then made your way to the entrance and met with the Receptionist. The young woman smiled at you as she saw you.

“Well if it isn’t the man of the hour. Welcome, Mr.Choi. Please follow me, I’m sure you're ready to start getting spiffy for your future bride.”

With a nod, you began to follow the young woman down a pair of nice granite steps. This shop was amazing. As you finally got down the stairs, you saw plenty of workers running around getting different things ready.

As you passed a small section of the shop, your ears could hear why people were running all over. The voice of your fiancé was telling people instructions on how she wanted to look. The receptionist pushed you forward into an area with other males that were waiting for you.

“They will be responsible for getting your hair and other stuff ready. Your fiancé already brought your suit in which you will be married. They will make sure it fits you perfectly despite having your measurements beforehand. Have fun.”

With a nod, you walked over to the men and gave them a bow.

“Please make me look good today.”

The men all smiled and Instructed you to sit down.

Hours went by. It wasn’t just your hair that was getting done. By orders of Nagyung, light makeup was being applied to you. Somehow light makeup took nearly 4 hours. Wouldn’t that be heavy makeup? Either way, it was noon by the time your hair and makeup were done. The staff had ordered some small sandwiches for you all to snack on before you went to put on your suit. With your simple ham sandwich gone, you went and looked at your suit.

The black tux seemed to be custom-tailored to your size. You probably had your parents to thank for that. You could have sworn a suit of yours was missing from your wardrobe. Pulling a cover, you proceeded to remove the tuxedo from its hanger and laid it on a table. Removing your clothes, you proceeded to throw on the white dress shirt and buttoned it up. Grabbing the pants from the table, your right leg went into the right slot and the left leg into the left slot. You had plenty of practice with suits and such. Putting them on wasn’t hard at all.

After two more minutes, your belt was in the buckles and you had your pants and dress shirt on. The white bow tie that remained on the table stood out to you. Most women made their partner wear the same color their 2nd dress would be. This being the color could either mean she wanted you to look bad, or her dress after the wedding would be white as well. Either way, you proceeded to pick up the bow tie and put it on. The final piece of your outfit was the nice black jacket. As you put it on, your eyes looked into the mirror in front of you. Your outfit was complete. Honestly, it was a perfect fit.

Pulling back on the cover, you proceeded to walk out towards the stylists and they began to pass a lint roller all over your tux.

“Perfect sir. Your bride is going to be very happy.”

“Yeah, sure she would.”

“Your wedding is being held at 3 pm in the Seoul Cathedral. That’s about a 30-minute drive from here. It’s 1:30 pm so it’s time to head out. Good luck today and don’t forget to say I do.”

Giving the men a bow, you began to head back out the way the receptionist had brought you. It was nothing eventful until you found a giant limousine waiting for you. The older man waiting by the back door gave you a bow and pulled it open. Giving the older man a bow, you quickly entered the limo and the door closed behind you. After a few seconds, the man went to the driver's side and hopped in. Before you knew it, you were on your way to the cathedral.

Honestly, it surprised you how many times you were using the same word to describe your wedding day. Uneventful. The 30-minute drive was uneventful until you finally arrived at your destination. The flashing cameras began to surround the vehicle as well as yells from the media. Security was already outside and began to push the men and women away as your vehicle inched forward to its final spot. Once there, the large men who helped push the media away helped you step out of the limo.

Despite being pushed back once, the various news sites came piling back over once again. The yells of your security were all you could hear as they were throwing the men and women back. Step by step you began to go up the steps of the cathedral. You aren’t even sure how much time it took until you were finally at the entrance. Once past the wooden doors, you could finally hear yourself think.

As you began to move further into the church, various men and women began to walk toward you and say their hellos. Despite it being early, the church was already filled with various people. A large majority of these people were businessmen and women who wanted to get on your family’s good side. Doesn’t surprise you most of them are there to kiss ass.

The repeated motions of your arm going up and down were annoying. Sure everyone knows how simple a handshake is but once you reached 30 people, it was just bothersome. With the random businessmen out of the way, next was saying hello to the executives of The Lee Company. As you stood in front of the 6 men and women, your head went down and gave them all a deep bow.

“I welcome you all to my wedding. Thank you for taking the time to come to this event. I’m sure all of your schedules were packed.”

The oldest of the bunch came over and shook your hand.

“Of course, we need to attend to meet our company president. Some were hesitant but this merger will help make us all a lot of money. I speak on behalf of all of my colleagues here. I am Ru Sangki.”

“Mr.Ru. I thank you all for coming. Will you be joining us for the festivities after?”

“Who could ever say no to free alcohol?”

With a small laugh, you proceeded to make your way to the end of the church where your parents were waiting. As your mother's eyes met with your own, you could see she was beginning to tear up.

“Sweetie. Y-You look amazing.”

“Thank you, Mother. Please don’t cry. You know I hate that.”

“I just never thought I would s-see the day.”

“Well, it’s here whether we like it or not.”

Placing a hand on your shoulder, your father looked at you.

“L-Listen Yejun. Your mother and I know this wasn’t your favorite thing but we appreciate you doing this. This will help our families rise to new heights. I guess we’re beginning to sound like broken records but this has already had an impact. Our stock prices have risen 7% since the first word of your wedding. New investors are lining up. The two of you will make this into a worldwide empire. I’m sure of it. You’re both young. I’m sure you will learn to love each other.”

You wanted to roll your eyes but as a matter of respect, you just nodded your head to your father.

“OK then. Your wedding will start in a few minutes. Why don’t you go stand up there and we will get started once your bride arrives.”

“Yes, father.”

Walking up on the stage, you began to just wait and give everyone a nod as they got to their seats. Minute after minute passed as your foot began to tap on the wooden floor. You were in your own world until the sound of an organ playing spooked you. The stereotypical tune from weddings began to play for everyone’s ears. Everyone was sitting for a minute until the sound of the doors could be heard.

The crowd now standing, looked back and began to take pictures. Your eyes first noticed the older man with her arm intertwined. Next to him was the young woman who had a white dress. Nagyung’s wedding dress wasn’t like other women’s. Most women had massive gowns that could fall to the floor. The fluff from those dresses was always a lot yet Nagyung didn’t dress like that.

Your fiancé’s dress was short. Her legs were on full display for the crowd to see. The two straps on her shoulders showed her soft skin. The white down her body showed her beautiful curves that could make any man drool. Around her neck, the collar of her dress seemed to have jewels all around to just show a look of elegance.

Step by step, the young woman got closer as her father held her arm. Small cries could be heard on the left-hand side. As you looked, your eyes noticed Nagyung’s mother crying at the sight of her daughter. You could tell she was just happy her child was getting married. After a few more seconds, Mr.Lee and Nagyung were finally at the front.

Walking down the five steps, your arm then extended to take Nagyung. Mr.Lee in that moment caught you by surprise as he hugged you.

“Look after her please.”

You were a bit shocked by this action but after you composed yourself, Mr.Lee revived a nod yes from you. Taking Nagyung’s arm, the two of you went up the 5 wooden steps and met with a priest who seemed to appear out of thin air.

“Ladies and gentlemen. I would like to welcome you all here today. It’s not often family, friends and loved ones get the chance to gather all together but you all took the time to come here for a very special moment. The moment when a man and woman become one. This is a sacred event that has stood the test of time. One that plenty would feel blessed to have, and I am sure these two feel just that way. Choi Yejun and Lee Nagyung have brought you here today for this. Their marriage. Now as I stand before these two, I can see the nerves on their faces. What couple wouldn’t be nervous on their special day but this just shows the love the two have for each other.”

You could almost laugh hearing those words but you needed to keep the act up. Nagyung smiled at the priest and nodded her head.

“Now Yejun, the duty of a husband can be tough. Sometimes you will be a friend, other times a confidant but you will always be the head of the family. You will be responsible for the needs your wife will have. Be that someone to talk to or someone to just enjoy time together. The key to all this will be communication. Communication will be the thing to help your marriage last as long as people like your parents. I hope you can fulfill the needs of your family. Now Nagyung. That same goes for you. The role of a husband can be hard at times but you will be his friend and confidant. The two of you will also have the struggles of running a business but if you communicate, then you can stand everything thrown at you two. Now I know plenty of weddings like to go on for an hour and bore you all with different sorts of speeches but I’m not going to do that to you all. I’ll make it shorter than average. We will now move on to the vows. We will start with Yejun. Repeat after me.”

At least this wasn’t going to be long.

“I, Choi Yejun.”

“Take you, Lee Nagyung.”

“To be my wife.”

“To have and to hold from this day forward.”

“For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer.”

“In sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”

“Now Nagyung. Repeat after me. I, Lee Nagyung.”

“I, Lee Nagyung.”

“Take you, Choi Yejun.”

“To be my Husband.”

“To have and to hold from this day forward.”

“For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer.”

“In sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”

“Thank you, both of you. Now I must ask. Should anyone have any reason these 2 should not be wed today, please speak or forever hold your piece.”

Silence in the church.

“Well then. As I said I wouldn’t make this long. By the power vested in me by South Korea and god, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

As you looked at your bride. Your eyes met with hers and saw she was smiling at you. You could tell it was fake but you had to play the part. Putting your hand on your wife’s waist, you then pull her closer and put your left hand on the back of her head. Tilting your head to the left, you then pulled Nagyung’s face toward you and connected your lips. The kiss was simple, just your lips touching but your heart was racing. It had been years since you kissed a girl. You were ready to push your tongue forward until Nagyung pulled her face back.

Cheers filled the church as the two of you faced the crowd. Smiles were on everyone’s faces. Your parents as well as your in-laws seemed happy. With the feeling of happiness in the air, you couldn’t help but give a genuine smile. At that time, Nagyung pulled your head closer to hers.

“Carry me to the limo. Make it seem romantic, idiot.”

Now your fake smile is back. Picking the young woman up, you began to walk down the wooden steps and go down the aisle. The cheers continued as you went down and gave everyone a quick nod. Nagyung pulled herself up a little and began to kiss your cheek. Each step you took brought you closer and closer to the doors. Security was ready as you finally reached the end. Your parents and in-laws managed to keep up with you and were ready to go out.

“Take a few pictures for the media and walk to the limo. We will join you there.”

“Ready, Nagyung?”

“Let’s do this.”

With security pushing the door open, your eyes were immediately blinded by the flashing lights of cameras. Yells from your security as well as the media hit your ears once more. You thought they were crazy before but now that your wife was in your arms, they almost lost it. You were now the power couple of South Korea. Each push on the men that were in front of you wasn’t fruitful. It took a couple of tries for you to make any progress towards the limo.

More of your guards came and began to pull the cameramen away from you all. Taking a chance, you posed with Nagyung and she smiled for the cameras. After an intense struggle that lasted five minutes, you were finally at the limo door. For one final picture, you looked at Nagyung and attached your lips to hers. The kiss was the same as before, just on the lips. It made your heart skip a beat until your wife pulled away again.

Putting your wife down, the young woman stepped into the limo and you followed behind. Your parents as well as in-laws also hopped in the limo and then closed the door. Unlike before, security already had them away from the vehicle and you were able to take off. Hugs were passed around as everyone hugged their parents. Your parents then hugged Nagyung and your in-laws hugged you.

“Your dress was stunning. So different from other brides.”

“Thank you, Mrs.Choi. I-“

“Call me Mom please.”

“Thank you M-Mom. I had the dress custom-made by some famous stylists at Versace. It was worth every penny.”

The rest of your ride was filled with Nagyung talking about her dress as well as the different jewelry she had on her person. For not wanting to get married she truly went all out for her dress. Fifteen minutes passed as you reached the venue for the reception. A hotel. Your wife had reserved several rooms and suites in this massive hotel. As the limo parked at the entrance, security stood guard and helped you get out. Helping Nagyung get out, you extended your arm once more and began to walk in with your family.

“Now me and your in-laws will finish setting up the reception. You two go over to the conference room and we will come get you when it’s time.”

“Ok, mom.”

Walking to an adjoining room, you and Nagyung found a couple of reclining seats and sat in them. The only noises that could be heard were the music as well as the staff workers who were setting up. You Weren’t sure how much time had passed until you heard a small grunt from Nagyung. Looking in her direction, the young woman was standing up and walking towards the door.

“You ok?”

“I’m gonna go do something. I’ll be back.”

You didn’t get the chance to respond as your wife pulled the door open and left. You were getting ready to follow behind her until the door opened again. A smile filled your face as you saw it was Jiwon.

“Congratulations Yejun!”

“Thank you Jiwon. I didn’t know you were in attendance.”

“Well of course I needed to come. I want to support you and be here in case you need something. So where is your bride going?”

“She said she would be back. That’s it.”

Jiwon’s smile turned into a look of sadness when she heard that.

“I think I know where she went. Follow me.”

Should you?

Jiwon didn’t wait as she grabbed your hand and began to pull you towards the rooms. The first floor seemed to have a few hotel rooms. As you went down this hallway, Jiwon reached one of the many doors there and pulled out a keycard. Scanning it, the green light appeared and she pushed the door open. Walking in, you were met by a sight that angered you. Nagyung had her arms wrapped around another woman and was kissing her neck. Somehow they didn’t even notice you.

“Nagyung. You’re married now. W-We shouldn’t.”

“It’s ok. I’m sure he won't mind it being another girl, Seoyeon.”

You weren’t sure why you were surprised. She said she was going to keep cheating but with the men avoiding her, you thought the women would too. Your eyes seeing this were suddenly met with the worried young woman. You could see the fear in her eyes as what she worried about happened.

“M-Mr. Choi.”

Nagyung at that time turned around and saw you. Most people would act shocked when caught cheating. Nagyung just rolled her eyes.

“Did you bring my husband here?”

Jiwon was silent for a second until she nodded yes.

“Next time keep to yourself. Or you will be out a Jo-“

“You will not be out of a job Jiwon. I give you my word on that. Nagyung. I truly thought that maybe you would not do it but I’m here and you couldn’t give a shit. Wow.”

As you began to walk out of the room, you could hear Nagyung scoff and yell at you. You paid her no mind as you and Jiwon returned to your waiting room. Once there, you took a seat again and just closed your eyes. While anger was coming off in waves, you felt a hand touch your arm. It was Jiwon and you could tell she was sorry for you. In a short time, this girl was already proving to be a better friend than any you had before.

“Sorry. I know this wasn’t your choice but maybe if you have a normal conversation with her then she will listen and stop.”

You were just silent. It could seem stupid but it only really hurt because Nagyung was keeping stuff from you, lying. At that time your fiancé returned and took a seat. The two of you were just glaring at each other now. Tension was all that could be felt in the air. Nagyung could have probably jumped on you until a knock on the door caught everyone's attention. It was the party planner.

“Everything is all set. Let’s go show everyone the lovely couple.”

Your feelings would have to wait, you now had to be the perfect couple. Standing up, you and your wife met at the door and intertwined your arms. Both of you put a fake smile on your faces and walked toward the reception hall door. The doors were quickly pulled open and music began to play. You and Nagyung began to playfully dance to the tune while going into the reception hall. Cheers echoed in the venue as the two of you made your way to the center of the hall.

You were ready to continue walking toward your seats until a slow song began to play. Normally the first dance would be later on but it looked like it was at that moment. Placing your hand on Nagyung’s thin waist, the two of you began to stumble a bit and go in the opposite direction. To everyone, it was just nerves when in reality you had never practiced this with your wife.

“Get your shit together and dance. I better not be embarrassed by this.”

Looking to the right a bit, Nagyung began to follow you and you both swayed left and then right in tune. Your dance wasn’t amazing but it served its purpose. A couple of minutes passed as the song stopped and everyone clapped. Directed to your table, the two of you took your seats and looked out into the crowd. It would be a long rest of the day.

Hours went by. To say it was horrible was an understatement. Every few minutes Nagyung would pull you closer and complain about something you did. Insult after insult continued to go in your ears. How were you going to have a calm conversation with your wife? You were angry. She was angry and annoyed. Would your emotions cause problems in this chat? A sudden pinch on your arm brought you back to your senses. The two of you had been bowing toward everyone who came to the weddings and it had ended. As people packed the dance floor and music blared in people’s ears, your parents and in-laws walked over and placed a few folders in front of the two of you.

“We know it’s been a long night, and it’s still technically a little early but we couldn’t wait any longer. In front of you are the deeds to your new home. Now C Industries has been developing a new mega building near the heart of Seoul. Well, the penthouse is already done. This home would be worth several million but it’s our wedding gift to the two of you.”

Both you and Nagyung were surprised. The two of you thought it would be time to go home shopping soon but your parents gifted you one. Both you and Nagyung bowed your heads and the massive gift you both received.

“Finally. In front of you are the transfer of ownership documents for both you and Nagyung. It’s all set. You both just need to sign and Yejun will be the CEO while Nagyung will be the COO.”

Pulling the cover to the manilla folder, the documents were all there and you began to give them a look over. There were no tricks in the end. This was the moment you had been dreaming about your whole life. Picking up a pen, your hand went down to the bottom of the document and began to sign. Once your lengthy signature was done, you took a glance to the left and saw Nagyung was done signing as well. Your wife was smiling and u like her previous ones, this one looked genuine.

“We are proud of the two of you. Welcome the new leaders of C Industries!”

Finally after everything today you were happy now also.

“We know it’s a bit early but the presidential suit was reserved for the two of you tonight. Here are the keycards so you can enter. Go ahead and leave whenever you want. We love you both.”

With your parents and in-laws leaving, Nagyung immediately took one of the cards and looked up at the clock. It was 10 pm.

“Well, I will be heading to the suite. I’m done with all these fake smiles I’ve been giving. Have fun dumbass.”

Standing up, Nagyung made her way to the exit and bowed at everyone as she left. You were left alone at your table now. It felt awkward. Should you just go to your room also? Wait, what if Nagyung was meeting with another person again?

Your mind began to go in circles as you asked yourself that question repeatedly. Your body reacted on its own as you made your way to the exit. After saying your goodbyes, you quickly made your way towards the elevator and waited for it. After a minute, the metal cage arrived and you walked in. Scanning your keycard, you then pressed the button to the presidential suite and the doors closed. As you went up, your leg began to bounce as you waited to get to your room.

A loud ding brought you back to earth and the doors opened. Right in front of you was the entrance to the suit. With the card scanner on the handle, you quickly scanned the rectangle in your hand and saw the green light. Walking in, the door was pushed almost all the way but then stopped by a pair of white heels. Pushing your way past the door, you continued your way further until you reached the living room. On the couch sat your wife. The bottle of champagne on the table in front of her was opened and she was enjoying it.

“Why are you up here?”

“I have just as much right to be in this room Nagyung.”

Grabbing a glass, you then poured some of the contents of the bottle into it. You didn’t even hesitate to down the entire glass of champagne. Nagyung scoffed at this action and filled her glass once more.

“You’re acting like you had a tough day. I had to act like the perfect wife.”

“And you are acting like you aren’t a nightmare to deal with. I tried my best to be kind towards you all day yet all you did was treat me like trash.”

Nagyung’s scoff returned as she then stood up.

“I have been treating you well, all things considered.”

Your wife at that time walked towards the bedroom, leaving you shocked at her words. Following behind you raised your voice a bit.

“That was treating me well? How the fuck is that treating me well?”

“You got to kiss a gorgeous woman like me. I think that’s pretty good for a loser like you. Plus you ruined one of my chances to destress. I could have slapped you for that.”

“First. You need to stop calling me a loser. I don’t get where you got that idea and secondly, you went to do shit like that on our wedding day. You don’t even care.”

“I don’t care. I told you I love sex. A wimp like you can’t satisfy me.”

Getting closer to Nagyung, your glare met with hers.

“I have asked you already. Stop calling me a wimp. I’m getting tired of this.”

“Wimp, wimp, wimp.”

Our anger was ready to boil over. You had this rage you wanted to release but you didn’t know how. You hadn’t noticed how close your face was to Nagyung’s until you could feel her breath on yours. The two of you were angry and needed to get rid of this feeling.

Your bodies reacted on their own as you both grabbed each other. Your lips were connected to Nagyung’s before you knew what was happening. This wasn’t like the short kisses you had before. You had wanted to push your tongue forward before and now you had the chance.

As your tongue moved into her mouth, the two of you began to fight against each other. You would have figured Nagyung would push you away but she continued to kiss you. The young woman’s tongue was shorter than yours, yet she managed to put up a good fight. Your tongues were pushing against each other and then circling, chasing each other. With your pent-up anger, you finally pushed your tongue against hers and took control in her mouth. Oxygen was something the two of you didn’t notice until your lungs felt empty.

Pulling back, both of your chests heaved as they took in as much air as possible. Still, your face ended up back in her body only now her neck. First, you began with small pecks on her soft skin. A few pecks later you began to nibble on her skin and pull a bit. The combination of your kisses and bites began to leave a red mark on your wife’s neck. Soft moans hit your ear as Nagyung held you close.

You weren’t sure when but after a little bit, Nagyung was already pulling off your jacket and ripped off your tie. Your hands stopped being idle after those actions and followed her lead. Your wife didn’t have much clothes on, so it was easy to begin to raise her white dress. Pulling back from your bride's neck, she began to help you remove her wedding dress. As the clothes began to leave her body, your eyes were blessed by the sight of her nude breast. Nagyung didn’t have a bra on this entire time. Just that thought made your already stiff cock to twitch.

Nagyung seemed impatient as the young woman ripped the buttons to your shirt open. With that out of the way, your hands went down to your belt and unhooked it. Pulling the leather belt off your pants, Nagyung quickly unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down. Raising both your legs, your pants were finally gone and you were matching Nagyung. Only your undergarments remained.

“Not bad for a wimp.”

“Shut up you bitch. Why am I even doing this?”

“Please, I'm asking myself that. You probably have a little shrimp dick.”

Nagyung’s hand reached out and took hold of your clothes shaft. Your wife had a smirk on her face until she began to feel around.

“Take a look then.”

Your wife rolled her eyes at the cockiness in your tone and dropped to her knees. As she went down, her hands wrapped around the band of your underwear and pulled it down. As your cock was freed from its confines, it accidentally hit Nagyung in the face as she got closer. A small gasp left her mouth as she stared at your dick. Raising her hand slowly, your wife’s dainty fingers wrapped around your cock.

“Well well well. I guess my husband is blessed with a nice cock after all.”

Slowly, Nagyung’s hand began to move up and down your length. With each small stroke, a bit of precum left your tips and began to move down your shaft. The clear slick began to slick up your wife’s hand a bit. Her hand was soft and moving slowly, yet it felt great. Nagyung. Could tell these small actions felt amazing as she then sped up a little bit.

“Awe. Your cock is heating up a bit. This is probably the most a girl has ever done to your length.”

“I’m not a virgin Nagyung. I just don’t Sleep around with anything that breathes.”

“Well you should be happy your wife loves sex. Because that means I’m an expert at this.”

Goosebumps filled your body as you felt something warm wrap around your cock. Looking down, your eyes met with Nagyung’s as her mouth trapped your tip. A few small sucks began to attack your cock head. A slight groan left your mouth as Nagyung continued this action. Sure it felt great but it would quickly bore you.

Nagyung seemed to have read your mind as she smirked a bit. Lower and lower went your wife’s mouth on your length. You weren’t sure how but Nagyung managed to move your entire length down her throat. After five seconds, Nagyung pulled her mouth back and off your length. Your wife then began to move her tongue on your length and moved it from the base to your tip. Left then right went her tongue around your cock. Moving down to your balls, Nagyung began to move her tongue around them and played with them. Your wife’s hand while she sucked on your balls stroked it up and down.

After a minute, Nagyung returned her mouth to your length and began to suck on your cock head. Down went her head on your length inch by inch until you filled her throat. The same action repeated two more times until Nagyung hit you with something new. When you filled her throat once more, you felt a vibration around your length as well as a constriction. Nagyung was somehow massaging your cock with her throat. It was unlike anything you had felt before. If you truly were a virgin, you would have blasted your load down Nagyung's throat at that moment.

Pulling back, Nagyung giggled a bit and just looked at you.

“How does that feel dear? I told you I’m talented. Or maybe you are just a virgin.

“T-That was….. ok.”

“Well. If it’s just ok then fuck my face. Dump a load down my throat.”

With the same insult being repeated, you decided to take her up on this invitation. Both of your hands took hold of Nagyung’s head and your waist began to move back and forth. At first, it was slow but when your eyes met with Hers, you saw she rolled them at you. With a sudden thrust, Nagyung’s throat was filled and her eyes shot out a bit. Back and forth your cock entered and left her mouth. Your wife’s throat was getting filled every second with your action. Despite this, she would take deep breaths when she could and took it. She truly wasn’t a rookie at this. Once again, Nagyung began to constrict your length with her throat. The feeling every time felt like the first time. The girl certainly wanted you to cum.

“F-Fuck. Guess you can do more than just complain with that mouth.”

You felt almost embarrassed but you knew you were close. Using as much strength as you could, you pounded into your wife’s throat. You didn’t have time to warn Nagyung as you thrust into her throat a final time, blowing your load. Shot after shot of your cum went down the young woman’s canal. A small pur left Nagyung’s mouth as your semen filled her stomach. It was one of the best orgasms you had in a while. Letting go of your wife, Nagyung pulled back and began to suck on your tip. Your whole body jolted as you were still sensitive.

“Fuck. I haven’t swallowed a load that big in a while. You must have needed to let one out for a while now.”

Your head just nodded a bit as Nagyung stood up and laid her back on the bed.

“Hurry up and eat my pussy. I better cum from that worthless tongue of yours.

After finally catching your breath, your legs dropped down and you brought yourself up to Nagyung’s legs.

“Sit back and enjoy, bitch.”

Wrapping your arms around Nagyung’s thick thighs, you then pulled your wife closer. Deciding to tease Nagyung, your lips went to her legs, and began to kiss them. Each peck down her leg brought you closer and closer to her panties. Nagyung being impatient wrapped her hand on her panties and pulled them down. With her privates uncovered, your kisses got closer and closer until you hovered about her pussy. Her slick had covered her legs already and you had a taste, but now you wanted more

“Fucking eat my pussy.”

You would have liked to leave her there frustrated, but you decided to be nice and gave her pussy a kiss. A little moan left her mouth and you gave her lips another kiss. You repeated this action as your hands moved up to her folds. Spreading them open, your tongue took the chance to push in and began to lick around. More moans left Nagyung’s mouth as your tongue began to swirl in her cavern.

With her folds parted, your eyes managed to see your wife’s clit. With your left hand, you began to run her nub in little circles. Letting go of Nagyung’s folds, you then used your right hand and pushed your index finger into her. The small moans were replaced with swears as your fingers moved in and out of her pussy. All 3 actions made your wife begin to jump around. She wasn’t ready for you to please her. Nagyung was truly caught off guard.

Adding two more fingers at once, Nagyung’s legs began to shake at the combined efforts of your hands and tongue. In and out your fingers pistoned Nagyung’s tunnel faster and faster. Your tongue with its continuous flicks on her clit began to speed up despite your mouth getting tired. Nagyung was close and you could tell.

Pulling back, you looked up at Nagyung and heard a groan from her.

“Why the fuck did you stop?”

“Maybe we should just leave you here as payback or-“

Nagyung wasn’t happy and pulled your head back into her snatch. Should you keep going? Nagyung didn’t wait as her fingers began to rub her clit. Your three fingers pushed back into her snatch and your tongue licked her folds. It didn’t take long for Nagyung to get close to her orgasm again. Moving your fingers as fast as possible.

“F-Fuck. Just a l-little more.”

Keeping the same pace, Nagyung soon began to jolt around and yell. A rush of fluids hit your face and you then opened your mouth. Each squirt of your wife’s fluids filled your mouth quickly. Drinking it, your body shivered as you had the best-tasting drink of your life. Pulling back, Nagyung was panting for air and had a bright smile on her face.

All of this made you hard again. You thought you were turned on before, but now. You wanted to fuck the life out of your wife. You didn’t hesitate to stand back up and line your length with her folds. Nagyung saw this and smirked.

“Look at you. Taking charge. I wonder if that cock can make me cum.”

“I already made you cum.”

“That was with my help. I doubt you can do it on your own but go ahead and try.”

“Let’s see if that loose pussy can make me cum.”

Your cock head began to push forward and wrapped around your length. You didn’t hesitate to go as deep as possible in that instant. Every inch of your length was wrapped by Nagyung’s walls, and it was the greatest feeling ever. Pulling back, you began to move back and forth.

“Mhmmmm. Such a beautiful cock but I’ve had better.”

Your anger returned as you wrapped your hands on her hips. Harder and harder your cock began to shove itself into your wife.

“Little better but I think I should go find a better cook than you right now.”

Adding a bit of speed, your hips thrusted more and more into Nagyung’s pussy. Achieving a steady speed, you continued to fuck Nagyung.

Clap clap clap

Those were the sounds that could be heard in the room. Finding a bit more strength, you began to move harder. Grunts left your mouth as Nagyung moaned.

“T-That’s fucking it. Keep going, wimp”

Grabbing Nagyung’s hair, you aggressively pulled your wife’s upper body closer to you.

“S-Stop calling me a wimp.”

“Y-You want me to stop. Then make sure I cum.”

Lowering your hand, your fingers began to search until you found her clit once more. As your wife did before, your fingers began to move her clit in circles. You could feel your wife begin to constrict her walls on your length from this action. You hadn’t noticed Nagyung had her arms wrapped around your neck until now. Letting go of her upper body, your head moved down and went into her breast.

With your mouth wide open, you managed to find Nagyung’s right nipple and wrapped it around your lips. At first, you began to give it a few teases but soon you began to suck on it harder. You were never the best multitasker yet you managed to keep fucking Nagyung, playing with her clit and sucking on her breasts. Raising your head, you then moved your mouth to her left breast and began to suck on her nipple.

“Fuck. I-I’ve needed this.”

“M-Me too.”

You were surprised at that moment as Nagyung pulled your head back. You thought she was going to push you away until she brought her lips to yours. The two of you were in a battle once more. Your tongues fighting for dominance. This kiss was aggressive, yet you could feel almost a sense of care in it. Pulling back from the kiss, Nagyung smiled at you and kissed your cheek.

“B-Babe. Keep going, please. I’m going to cum if you keep this pace.”

Your heart fluttered a bit when she called you that. You were going to help her cum. Keeping your thrusting pace, your fingers sped up and stimulated her clit even more. Nagyung at that time began to yell once more and jump around in your arms. Your wife’s eyes began to roll back as she continued to jump around. The construction around your length was just as good as her throat, you were ready to cum. With a few more thrusts, your length reached the end of your wife’s caverns. Your seed began to flood your wife’s snatch as you fell on top of your wife. Your cock throbbed more than five times as you filled her to the brim with your semen.

You weren’t sure how much time passed as you felt Nagyung kissing your neck. Getting back up, you looked down and saw your cum leaking out of your wife’s pussy. Nagyung brought her fingers down at that moment and grabbed some of the semen that was dripping.

Raising it to her mouth, your wife playfully spun around and raised her ass towards you.

“Put another load in me.”

You didn’t need to think twice about that invitation. Despite everything, your cock was still plenty hard. Nagyung at that time reached back and lined your length up with her folds. With a push, your length was enveloped in your wife’s caverns once more.

“Fuck. How are you so tight?”

“How do you have such a nice cock?”

Picking up a little speed, your thrusts began to get harder. Nagyung at that time brought her upper body up and you took hold of her arms. From your wife’s delicate arms, they began to go up and take hold of her breast. Your lips once more went to her neck and you began to pepper it with kisses.

“God I love that. Maybe I really won’t need another cock after this.”

“Here y-you go again. This is the only cock you are going to have from now on.”

“M-Maybe but you get a pleasure other men have never had.”

“And what’s that you whore.”

Nagyung’s walls got tighter with that word.

“None of them got to fuck me without a condom. Let alone fill me with cum.”

“Then let me fuck a-another load into your loose pussy.”

Nagyung moaned when you insulted her again. Your speed began to increase when you could imagine another load in your wife. Letting go of her left breast, you immediately raised it and slapped her ass. A grunt left Nagyung as you then slapped her ass again.

“Y-You can do better dear. Fuck me like others have before.”

Your slaps continued on her ass after she said those words.

“S-Shut up you whore.”

“W-Whore? Yet you’re fucking me.”

“B-Because this is my pussy now.”

Your thrusts increased and Nagyung began to grunt like you.

“C-Choke me.”

You would have never thought of yourself grabbing your partner's neck during sex but with the way Nagyung spoke to you, there wasn’t any hesitation. Both of your hands wrapped around the young woman’s neck and began to squeeze a bit. This seemed to turn Nagyung more. The constriction around your cock got tighter with each squeeze you gave her neck. Nagyung began to lower her hand down to her clit but you saw this and slapped her hand away.

“Y-You come when I say so.”

Your right hand continued to give a few squeezes to her neck while your left hand went to her clit. Rubbing it in circles once more. Your combined efforts were bringing Nagyung to her orgasm, and you were soon to follow. Should you be ashamed about cuming so soon again? Probably not when you were making her cum quickly also.

Every one of your actions went as fast as they could. The rubbing of Nagyung’s clit, the choking of her neck, and the thrusting Into her walls.

“P-Please. Just a little more.”

With your constant pace, you saw Nagyung’s body begin to shake as her third orgasm of the night came. A rush of fluids hit the bed as you gave her neck one final squeeze. Just like your hands. Your wife’s walls squeezed around your cock and tried to milk you of all you had. Letting go of her neck, your cum began to fill Nagyung. Pants for air and mains filled the room, just like you filled your wife.

After a minute, Nagyung pulled her body away from yours and pulled the covers to the bed. Hoping under the covers, you followed her and wrapped her in your arms.

The room was silent until Nagyung broke the air.

“Can I be honest?”

“Sure.”

“That was some of the best sex I’ve had in a while. You were great but I still want to sleep with other partners. I have been doing this for so long and it will just be so hard to change myself.

You began to chuckle a bit hearing that.

“I have a compromise. Why don’t you let me sleep with other women and you can sleep with other women as well?”

You were amazed at what you just heard. You were mad about your fiancé trying to sleep with others but now your mind was debating if you should take this offer.

“It’s called an open relationship. And to stay clean I will only sleep with women I introduce you to and you can sleep with women I introduce you to. You already proved that cock can satisfy me. I won’t lie to you anymore or try to trick you but please let me continue this life, dear.”

Should you do it? should you change your morals just to have more sex?

“I’ll let you fuck Saerom unnie first if you would like.”

Your cock twitched at the thought of fucking her. Her beautiful body certainly had never left your mind when you saw it. This deal would be in your favor.

“Fuck it. Let’s do it. So much for being angry at you for trying to sleep with others."

Nagyung laughed and hopped back on you. The young girl smirked and began to kiss your neck.

“I hope we can wake up early. Our flight to Jeju is at 7 am. This week is going to be filled with fucking. Let’s see if you can keep up, wimp."

“One way to find out.”

Plunging Nagyung back on your rod, the young woman began to bounce as you pulled her down for a kiss.

This relationship is going to be Interesting.

A/n 2- Thank you for reading. Not the best but i hope you enjoyed it. Not sure when i will come back with another piece so until then. Thank you for reading, sorry for typos and see you next time

#kpopsmut #smut #fromis9smut #female idol smut

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shuenkio · 3 months ago

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Halloween's Love | Psh. 🎃

Paring: Sunghoon X M!reader | Genre: Smut.

Synopsis: A fun day turning into a hot Halloween when Sunghoon saw you in that witch costume that he brought for you.

Cw: Heavy smut, cursing, belly bulge?, mentioned of cum, gigantic Sunghoon size, curse, aggressive sh, bad language.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

🍁AN: Advance Halloween special for y'all after haven't active for 4-5 days. Again I'm still nerf in the smut field so, hope you can read peacefully ;)

It's the fall season, which means today was Halloween time. Also this is the first time in your relationship that you spend with your Boyfriend, Sunghoon. Even though it's not quite fun however since Sunghoon was here, everything is completely fine.

As for the Trick or Treat approach in the evening, You have nothing to wear for the costume since you forget to buy one, but lucky enough Sunghoon was quite thoughtful as he brought you a nice costume, just in case, and very unexpectedly one. A witch. It was quite revealing just for the thighs Abit but it's still appropriate for the public. Or not for Sunghoon?

Meanwhile Sunghoon, he was dressing up as a pumpkin man, you have never thought he would before, the fact that he was the cold one. However, this one is different from the pumpkin man you had known, Sunghoon was wearing loin clothes above his pants underneath, and a tight polo tank top that was clinging on his tone skin, if this isn't the pyramid head reference, you didn't know what else.

But actually what's going on inside his head? That's what you thought. The whole evening of trick or treat was fun, full of laughter and smiles, everywhere you explore the whole neighborhood. Everyone compliments that both of you and Sunghoon fit perfectly for the theme and as a couple too. Which somehow draws a satisfied smile on Sunghoon's face under the hot pumpkin head.

Getting back home, a basket full of candy. This year was the best year that you've spent your entire life. So fun so good so far. On the other hand, you noticed that your boyfriend was taking time in the bathroom to change, rather than longer than usual, and it makes your worries slightly. Heading toward the bathroom, you knocked on the door to ask how was him, but all you got was a Heavily breathing, like.... He was moaning?

A flash appears on your face once it clicks on your mind, yet you try to brush it off just because no way Sunghoon would do it, right?

But isn't that weird that it sounds like he was pleasuring himself. Somehow you didn't want to disturb him, but some part wanted to know if he's alright just in case.

As you open the door wide, your thoughts come to life. He was like what you're thinking. Your face grows even redder as you saw a glimpse of his tip before quickly turning around and looking away. Sunghoon was surprised to see you, a shame of embarrassed washing over him, however did he mind, no he don't. He was just catching off guard, you catch him in a moment like this.

"I-im sorry, I didn't mean to" Nervously mixing with excitement, you apologize. Sunghoon didn't know what to say so he responded back with another apology instead. Weird.

"It's not your fault M/N, I got carried away because y-you did wear the costume I brought for you" He explain, rubbing the back of his nape as he cover his crotch with a towel on, while your back still facing his.

"so... That was the only reason?" Swallow hard, in disbelief he was turned on by you wearing this witch costume, it was that sexy?

"No um it's hard to— say M/N but it have been a long time since I saw you in um y'know, showing off your skin and I want to ask— nvm" Sunghoon quickly turn around from facing your back, as his word slipped out what's from his mind. It's obvious what he wants from you. You gaze grow soft, once you realize he wants to make love with you— and turn this relationship to the next level.

"love! Why don't you tell me in the first place there's nothing to be embarrassed about, I can give it to you, now say the word" You state, turn to face him as he slowly turns to face you back and unfortunately, his towel falls off, accidentally revealing his massive length right there.

"You didn't mind? Uh yes i-i do want it, a... Lot"

"that's what I like to hear" You smile as you return him back with a kiss while your naughty hand, wrapped around his cock.

////

The bed's shaking from the movement of both of you, especially Sunghoon. He didn't hold back from what he meant that he wants it a lot. Even better, he's the one who suggested that fucking you in this sexy revealing Halloween costume on, was one of his dream and now you fulfilling it.

His rhyme was rough, and aggressive like a damn wolf, the way his cock moved in and out of your hole, the wet sound shatter alluring in this room, didn't do any favors but to make it more heat and aroused in the bedroom. It should be a crime, that his size was gigantic, very. The way his balls clap together and are full of load, lord if only he was asking for this earlier, you biting your lip, groaning in pleasure as he pounded on you very hard.

"fu-ck Sunghoon ~ you gotta speed it down, m-my hole won't hold on if you are this rough" you cry out in bliss, even if he would you'd not complain about it, this session was life changing.

"No M/N you feel too good to not, SHebal, you're so t-- tight ahmmm" His head throwing to the back, whimpers under his breath when he hit his sweet spot, as he continue to arching his hip, buried himself deeper and thrusting harder inside of you, chasing for that crazy climax, while snuggle his hands around your waist.

Subsequently, it became worse, the pace of his hip grew more uneven, the outline of his cock on your belly appeared extra clearly, as you both breath became more hitch and patted heavily, chasing for the perk.

But who was the one that feeling insane and drive themselves crazy about this fuck? There's no other than Sunghoon. Seeing his own work on your body, just giving him a satisfied achievement to himself, not only the way your dick bouncing up and down, leaking in pre-cum, as he is, back shooting you like there's no tomorrow only to make him, overwhelmed by amusement or should you say, it make him overstimulate?

"For God's sake, M/N fuck fuck fuck FUCK I'M CUMMING CUMMING—" waste no more time, Sunghoon feel a huge wave of orgasm building inside of him, as he spilled all his cum, finally empty himself inside of your ass, tighten his strength around your waist even harder as he thrust all in.

Eventually, both bodies collapse on the soft bed, since Sunghoon passes out already while still inside of you. Soon after, you also follow his orgasm through, cumming on your own abdomen, undone.

Once it's settled, you lay there beside him, taking some moments to catch your breath as you are facing him on the bed, staring at his wasted expression that he did for himself, adorable.

The atmosphere turn into quite and peaceful once again after this intense FUCK. The way his cock still in you, meaning that even if he was not in his mind right now, he'd still be close to you, in any way possible, and that the way he loves you, and you love him for that, also.

"Maybe you really want it, haha but look, you're the first to pass out"

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13uswntimagines · 3 months ago

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Safe Harbor II (Alessia Russo X Singer!R)

Request: R and Alessia go to an award show, and just how they handle the whole public outing

Warnings: There are definitely some D/s undertones (and overtones) in this fic. The use of Daddy. Light Smut- not super descriptive, but it's there.

Author's note: This universe is super fun, and I'm going to keep writing in it. Let me know what you'd like to see. I really wanted to explore the difference between when r is submitting and when she isn't because I think the dynamic is fun. There are also a bunch of references to Sunset Boulevard because I love the musical and I think some of the things are fitting.

You sighed, fidgeting with the bow tie that defiantly remained crooked no matter how many times you tugged at it, trying to ignore the city lights glittering off the mirror that took up the entire wall.

It was gaudy, and unnecessarily flashy in your opinion. Something you would never want in your own home, despite how… useful your stylist claimed it was. You supposed it did have its place, here in the world you did your best to avoid.

The one you only tolerated because it let you do the thing you loved.

The one the character you play was far more…comfortable in.

You blew out another breath, undoing the silky material around your neck and letting it hang over limply across your shoulders.

It wasn’t that you were… ungrateful.

You were not.

You understood how lucky you were. You appreciated the fans more than you could put into words.

You just didn’t appreciate being paraded around like a circus animal for everyone’s enjoyment. Or an exotic creature to be gawked at.

It felt like they owned you most of the time now. Like you were just a marionette dancing at the behest of someone else. Your life had turned into a performance.

That’s pretty much all award shows were.

Behind the glamorous veneer, they were filled with hollow conversations and forced smiles. While some genuine people like Taylor and Kelsea attended, there was a reason it was called a snake pit.

It was why you detested them so much, and why you did your best to get out of them.

Your manager, Pepper, had been very clear though. There was no getting out of this one. Not when you would be the first-ever recipient of the American Music Awards Horizons Award.

“Let me,”

You blinked at the voice that appeared behind you, and the hands that landed heavy on your shoulders. They relaxed instantly under her touch.

You hadn’t realized you were staring at yourself in the mirror.

You dragged your eyes away from the polished version of your form to meet Alessia’s in the mirror.

There was understanding in the depth of her blue. They made you feel naked, despite the dark blue shirt and silver vest that clung to you.

She saw beneath the glossy shell of your character. She always had, and you had faith that she always would.

She tugged gently on the silvery tie laying across your shoulders, the ring that perfectly matched it glinting off of the sharp hotel lights.

You frowned at the ring, large and gaudy with a rock that sent flashes of light across the room with every movement of her hand. It was not the thin silver band you had slipped on after she said yes.

You supposed you should be happy that she would keep the real one private between the two of you. Something the fans couldn’t have.

Still.

You let out another breath as the tie slid from your skin, and she used gentle pressure to turn you to face her.

“You’re overthinking this,” She said when your eyes met hers again, as she used a finger to tilt your chin up.

You hummed at the feeling of her hands brushing your neck in familiar movements, and the careful pressure of the tie.

You didn't have to voice your thoughts for her to understand, not that you could form coherent words at this moment.

It was always a… weird headspace for you, the space in between who you were, and who the world expected you to be.

What was making it harder tonight was that it would be the first time Alessia walked with you down the red carpet. Your stylist even had you in matching outfits, as if your arm around her wasn’t enough of an indicator that you were together.

The whole thing made it nearly impossible to separate the different parts of yourself.

“Take a deep breath for me,” Alessia said calmly, tightening the silky material around your neck, her gaze never wavering.

She took an exaggerated inhale, and you did your best to mimic her, your pulse slowing automatically, the gentle lingering of her hands in your skin grounding you with her.

“You’re not usually this wound for things like this,” She said, her voice soft, curious, but unwilling to push you like she normally would.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, gaining strength from her steady hands. “I’m just. Sometimes I feel like I’m a piece in someone else’s game. It’s like they own me. I don’t want them to own you too, even though I know your fans are nearly as bad.”

You could already see the tweets now, talking about the stunning blue dress she was in, and how it perfectly coordinated with the dark blue lapels of your suit jacket.

They would dissect every interaction between the two of you, from how your hand rested on her waist to every look the two of you shared.

Alessia’s eyes softened, as she finished the knot of your tie, tightening it just enough so you could feel it, but not enough that it cut off your air.

It was comforting in a… strange way. Grounding like the collar you wore when the two of you were alone, or the bracelet that was always a part of your wardrobe, no matter how poorly it matched your outfit.

“I know,” She said finally, and there was something more intimate in the words than the flashy hotel room deserved. Something deep, that belonged only to the two of you. “But they can’t own what they don’t understand,”

Her hands left the tie, moving up to cup your cheeks gently, carefully of the makeup your artist, Pamela, had all but forced on you. “They can’t own what they can’t see,”

You made a low sound at the implication.

It was why she was wearing a giant rock on her finger instead of the band you had gotten her.

They could have that part of her and you, but they couldn’t have this one.

“They don’t get to own who we are.” Alessia finished, leaning in and placing a very gentle kiss on your lips. “Remind me who you are,”

You blinked at the feeling of her breath on your lips.

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n,”

She hummed, kissing you again. “But who are you?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the order. At the reminder of the parts of yourself that she always held like they were precious and fragile. The parts she was fiercely protective of.

Because even if this… facade belonged to your fans, the parts that really mattered were hers.

“I’m yours,” You said, the words barely audible in the space between you. “Im yours, always,”

“Exactly,” She hummed, running a thumb gently over the skin below your eye. “And I’m yours too, no matter what ring Selena and Barbra decide to have me wear,”

You made a low sound, coming from deep in your chest, as the final tendrils of tension left your form at her reminder.

Your relationship wasn’t a one-way street, though that’s what some people would assume if they knew about your dynamic. But the truth was that it was equally give and take. You supported each other and did things together.

She was as much yours as you were hers.

It still made you feel warm to hear her say it though.

You leaned in and placed another kiss on her lips. “Don’t hold anything that happens tonight against me please,”

You didn’t add her title to the end of the sentence, despite how much you longed to. You knew if you did, you would never be able to leave the hotel room. You wouldn’t be able to paint on the face of a superstar.

“Nothing within reason,” She smirked, pulling away from you. “I know you have a show to put on, but the rules still stand,”

You nodded, knowing that the rules always stood, no matter the setting.

“Alright, lovebirds.” Your publicist, Tony, said, entering the room with a clap. “Your car is here, and Stevie is getting anxious about the paparazzi out front.”

“We’ll be there in just a moment,” Alessia said, her eyes and her steadying grip never leaving you.

Tony huffed at the dismissal, settling down on the white sheets of the full bed closest to the bathroom.

You rolled your eyes, stepping out of Alessia’s grip and grabbing your suit jacket. “You don’t have to babysit us,”

Tony made a low sound. “The last time I left you two alone in a hotel room before an award show you missed the Red Carpet, and Steve made sure I couldn’t sit for a week. I’m not taking a chance this time,”

You slipped the jacket over your shoulders, an easy smirk taking over your features. “It’s not my fault Ms. Kyle and Ms. Gordon always pick an outfit that makes Ms. Russo look so… delectable,”

Alessia couldn’t help but giggle, catching your hand.

Tony didn’t need to know that she was the reason you hadn’t left for the VMAs on time. That the red and black suit you had worn made you too irresistible.

“Whatever,” Tony huffed, pushing himself to his feet and leading you to the main room where your security, publicist, and team were waiting for you.

And as you stepped out, you felt the mask of who you were expected to be slipping firmly into place, whether you wanted it to or not.

******

You supposed you should be used to the cheering. The screams that followed you everywhere you went.

The volume still surprised you as the dark SUV pulled up to the beginning of the red carpet, stopping so your door was positioned between two thick, red velvet ropes.

“Ready?” Alessia asked, gently squeezing your hand.

You hummed, glancing out the window towards the growing crowd, and the men dressed in dark clothing trying to hold them back.

“As I’ll ever be,” You said, your voice taking on a quality that didn’t exist in your regular speech.

You closed your eyes for just a second, taking a steadying breath before you grabbed the door handle and pushed open the door.

The wall of sound that met you was indescribable, and the million-dollar smile you were known for came easily to your lips.

You waved toward the crowd of screaming fans, and turned back to the car, extending your hand to help your fiancé out.

Her fingers were warm as they wrapped around yours, and squeezed gently.

It was a gesture that would go unseen by the blinding flashes behind you. One that was just yours.

The fans only got louder as she emerged, her dark blue dress flowing across her curves, complementing the sharp lines of your suit.

You wrapped your free arm around her waist to steady her, never letting go of her hand.

“Such a gentlewoman,” Alessia said, her voice just barely audible over the squealing fans and the clicking cameras.

Your signature smirk got wider, your eyes glinting in the camera flashes.

“Only for you my darling,” You said in your best impression of Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard, your smirk softening when Alessia giggled. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” She agreed, leaning in and placing a careful kiss on your cheek.

The crowd responded immediately, cheering as though it was more than just a kiss on your cheek. You could already see the tweets and Reddit boards looking at every microexpression.

You hummed, shaking your head, feeling the heat in your skin where her lips had touched you. It centered you as you stepped into the onslaught of people held back only by tiny velvet ropes and security.

The fans and the paparazzi only got louder as you finally took your first steps on the red carpet. It was like standing too close to a speaker. The cacophony of sound vibrated in your chest, and voices blended together into indistinguishable mush.

Flashes burned your retinas, never stopping despite you not being in paparazzi ally yet.

You wished Tony would put up a no flash photography sign for you like they did at the zoo. He would probably laugh and remind you that the circus made no such exceptions for their animals.

What was worse is that you were used to it. Your face was a commodity to be bought and sold, your attention probably garnering enough cash to last someone for the month.

You easily navigated the carpet, following Tony as your security buffered you from the public from behind.

The fans were too far back for you to interact with (you waved anyway, flashing them charming smiles), and you didn’t mind Steve, Clint, Loki, and Thor blocking any cameramen from getting butt shots as you approached the alley line with little Xs.

You had a split second to breathe while the paparazzi focused on Hayley hitting the final X with Josh before one of the workers held up a sign with your name, and the yelling re-started.

“Y/n, Alessia this way please,” The attendant said, directing you to the first x.

You wrapped your arm around Alessia’s waist, pulling her close to you as you took the spot they wanted. You painted your famous million-dollar smile across your features and unwillingly dragged your eyes away from Alessia.

The barrage of camera flashes was overwhelming, and the calls for your name blended together in a cacophony that would deafen even the most narcissistic of people.

“Y/n to your left,”

“How about a kiss?”

“Alessia on your right,”

“Show us that ring,”

Your smile turned slightly more cocky, as Alessia’s left hand found the center of your chest, flashing the rock on her finger as she leaned in and pressed a kiss on your cheek.

It was different than the private one you had shared.

The kiss just spurred you on, your eyes twinkling with amusement as Tony gestured for you to move to the next X. You caught Alessia’s hand on your chest, bringing it to your lips, seamlessly showing off the expensive ring on her finger before you guided her to the next spot, your fingers running gently over the embroidery on the silky material of her dress.

“Y/n here please!” The photographers yelled as you got set, and you tired your famous smirk toward the sound.

“Alright Mr. Demil, I’m ready for my closeup,” you winked at the cameras as the clicking rapidly picked up, and you heard several chuckles from behind the cameras.

Alessia also chucked from beside you, resting her hand on the center of your chest as the two of you posed again. Your arm tightened around her waist, your fingers tapping her hip gently just out of the view of the cameras.

The two of you stood there for another long second, looking every bit the power couple you were portraying, before Tony gestured for you to move to the x.

You squeezed her hip as she turned, leaning close to her ear. “Least I didn’t have to murder anyone to get their attention,”

“No,” Alessia agreed with another giggle, aware that her response was visible to the crowd. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re a pop star instead of an old silent movie actor. Though your acting is quite good,”

You grinned widely, as you made it to the final X and she turned to face you. “It’s easy when I have you on my arm,”

She hummed, a bit of red spotting her cheeks, and your grin turned quite wolfish as you tightened your arm around her to draw her closer for the final set of photos.

“You’re just so ravishing,” You said, far enough away that you knew the cameras would capture it. “Isn’t she?”

You directed the last question at the men behind the cameras, and the clicking of the cameras increased. You didn’t add that their chuckles and cheering didn’t bother you because you knew that Alessia was yours as much as you were hers.

Alessia hummed again, having expected you to do that. You were never shy with your admiration when you were in public.

You leaned close to her ear again. “So ravishing that I can’t wait to eat you up,”

“I might just give you a chance later,” She laughed, pushing your chest very lightly. You pulled back with another cheeky grin, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Alright lovebirds, that’s enough,” Tony said after several seconds, stepping in between you and the cameras, and gesturing you off the final X as the cameras all turned to whoever was going to be taking the alley behind you. “Reporter Row is next, but you only have to make a couple of stops so you’re not late to your seats,”

“Just Call Her Daddy and the slow-mo guy right?” You asked as you guided Alessia to a part of the carpet between 2 walls, hidden from view, and your security team created a little pocket around you. “And I want to say hello to the fans,”

“Yes,” Tony nodded, looking over his shoulder at the line of media outlets standing less than 3 feet apart from each other. “I’ll keep the rest away from you.”

You swallowed hard and nodded once, leaning into Alessia’s hand that was still on your chest for a long second.

It didn’t matter how many times you participated in Red carpets, how many times you were trotted around like a show pony in this parade of excess, it never got any less overwhelming.

You took a deep breath before you let Tony guide you forward, your million-dollar smile taking over your features once more.

You waved at the reporters as Tony directed you past them, only stopping for the slow-motion camera (dipping Alessia in the photo) before you were standing in front of Alex Cooper.

“And here is the couple that everyone is talking about. You both look absolutely stunning,” She said, smiling too widely with an easy wave of her hand. “how does it feel to be here at the AMAs,”

“Thanks, It’s great,” you matched the expression, tightening your arm around Alessia’s waist. “The fans have been amazing so far and I’m very excited to get to see the performances tonight. Plus any time I get to spend with my gorgeous fiancé is amazing,”

You winked at the camera and placed a very sweet kiss on Alessia’s cheek. Both women giggled, and Alessia ran her thumb over the back of your hand.

“And you’re receiving the very first Horizons Award,” Alex pushed on, knowing she had a very limited time with you.

You nodded, your expression turning serious. “I’m very very honored, though I think the spotlight should really go to the people doing the hard work like folks at the Trevor Project and GLAAD,”

Alex nodded. “You’re also performing tonight. Any spoilers you can give?”

You hated how quickly she moved on from the topic you actually cared about. The topic that could actually help other people.

But you didn’t show it on your face. Instead, you let your features turn mischievous, meeting Tony's eyes off to the side. “You know I don’t like to give away my secrets,”

It was a silent signal that you could handle this yourself. That the slight podding wasn’t an invasion you needed him to deal with.

Alex chuckled, holding her little microphone out to Alessia. “What about you Alessia, anything you can say?”

“I actually haven’t seen it yet, but I’m sure it’ll be fantastic,” Alessia said and you turned your entire attention to her.

You were sure that there would be memes of the way your expression immediately softened, or how she had all of your attention the second she spoke, but you didn’t care.

Alex shook her head in mock disappointment. “Well, I’ll let you two go, good luck tonight,”

You blinked back toward Alex, smiling brightly once again. “Thanks,”

Then you let Tony guide you away, keeping a protective hand on Alessia’s waist as you headed towards the arena, and you felt your shoulders relax.

The hardest part of the night was over.

*****

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you made it to your seats in the front row, with Haylee and Josh on your right and Taylor and Travis on your left.

You supposed they wanted to keep all of the footballers together so they had something to talk about while their significant others were stuck being exhibited on stage.

“What’s your color?” Alessia asked, gently squeezing your knee as the show went to commercial break.

You hummed at the all too familiar, catching her hand and intertwining your fingers. So far the show had been… bearable.

There were a couple of good performances, and you had won 3 awards. There were also minimal jokes from the host directed at you and your fiancé, which you appreciated.

You were feeling good. You were feeling in control.

“Green. Are you enjoying the show?” you asked, leaning in close to her in case one of the online fan cams was trained at you.

She nodded. “The performances have been very good. I really liked Luke’s,”

You grinned wider. Luke Combs had done a mashup of Beautiful Crazy and Forever After All, both of which were songs that you had helped pen. “It’s funny you’re marrying me when you're such a sap for country music,”

Taylor gasped to your left, leaning around Travis to playfully glare at you. “Are you making fun of country music over there?”

You turned a mischievous smirk on her. “No. I would never,”

She rolled her eyes dramatically at you. “Pop music is just glorified county you know?”

And you couldn’t help but smile at the pompous tone.

“Maybe country music is just slow pop music,” You shrugged, matching her tone.

“I’m confused by what’s happening,” Travis said over your head towards Alessia. “Do they do this frequently?”

Alessia couldn't hold her giggle anymore. “Since they met. You would think that neither of them writes country music,”

“Oh,” Travis said, turning a slight shade of pink.

This wasn’t your first time meeting him, but it was his first time attending one of these with Taylor, and you could tell he was nervous.

You leaned back into Alessia’s side, just as the lights flashed, indicating that the show would be back in 30 seconds. “I’m glad you liked Luke’s performance,”

“And I’m going to love yours too,” She said, and you made a low sound.

You were most nervous about what she would think of what you had planned. The performance that you had been working on for weeks.

Her opinion was the only one that mattered to you after all.

The lights flashed again, in the 10-second warning and Tony materialized in front of you. “Hey kid, I need to steal you,”

“Go be amazing,” Alessia said softly, pushing you gently to your feet.

You sighed, eyes darting back to you when she gently tapped your ass as you stood, and she looked the picture of innocence.

Travis was coughing to hold in his laugh from the other side, and Taylor was smirking.

You rolled your eyes and let Tony drag you away, though Taylor did catch your eye as you left, sending you an easy nod.

At least you knew that Alessia would be entertained while you were gone.

*****

Alessia could understand why you despised award shows as much as you did.

You had disappeared 45 minutes ago, and your seat had been filled by a random stranger only there to make the arena look full. There were more commercials than performances or actual show.

Though it was nice to talk to Taylor and Travis, it was inherently boring and slightly unnerving because of all of the cameras.

The announcer kept mentioning that you were coming up or up next, and really Alessia didn’t think anyone needed more suspense.

And then Taylor was whisked away by Tree, and the lights were flashing, and she knew that it was finally time.

Taylor stepped out onto the stage with a brilliant smile, walking to the front.

“As artists, we have incredible platforms. We have fans that stretch around the globe, and our next performer has gone above and beyond to give each and every one of them a voice,” Taylor said. “From raising more than 600 million dollars for charities like the Trevor Project to granting more wishes this year than anyone else, all well releasing an album that stood at number one for a record 29 consecutive weeks, she is the embodiment of what a star should be. That is why she is this year’s recipient of the Horizons Award. I’m honored to welcome my friend, Y/n Y/l/n,”

The stage shifted, the side Taylor was on was going dark while the curtain lifted on the other, revealing you standing in a spotlight.

You weren’t dressed in the suit she had last seen you in. Instead, you were in a white shirt, suspenders, and Khakis, and you were barefoot.

You took a big deep breath, your shoulders moving with it as the opening piano notes of the song started, and Alessia felt her own breath catch in her throat.

It was when the party’s over.

You looked up at the crowd and started to sing.

At first, Alessia thought that this was going to be the performance. Just raw and painful. Completely vulnerable.

But off to the side, another spotlight shined, showing a dark-haired woman in a white flowy dress that had yellow around the bottom, matching your kakies. She danced towards you, the dress billowing around her ankles as she twirled.

She touched your shoulder and you melted into her, catching her hand and beginning to dance.

Alessia’s breath caught. The world had never seen you dance before. Not like this.

There was a lot of push and pull. Moments where the dancer would hold you close and others where she would shove you away. With every movement, your perfectly pressed clothing became disheveled, one suspender dropping, several buttons of your shirt coming undone and your always immaculate hair going very messy.

The two of you flowed together in a beautiful story of pain and disappointment.

It was… indescribable, and Alessia and the entire arena were entranced.

She could feel herself leaning forward as you got to the bridge.

You twirled the dancer, pulling her close so your foreheads touched and your lips were nearly brushing. It was intimate and stunning, but Alessia didn’t feel jealous.

Let’s just let it go

Let me let you go

You breathed heavily, the sound echoing around the arena, as everything stopped.

Quiet when I’m coming home and I’m on my own

The dancer pulled backward, walking away from you, and you left your arm out, fingers stretched as she disappeared off stage as if you were calling her back.

Suddenly you were alone again, stuck in the spotlight.

And I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that

Your voice faded out and the stage went dark.

Everything was silent for a long second before the crowd erupted around her, people pushing themselves to their feet as the lights came back on. You ran your hand through your messy hair, pushing it back as you bowed to the standing ovation. Your eyes roamed the crowd, finally landing in Alessia.

Your head tilted at her in acknowledgment, like you were asking ‘What’d ya think?’ in the stupid southern accent you sometimes affected to make her laugh. She nodded.

Words could not describe how proud she was.

Her chest welled up with pride. With awe until it was practically overflowing. She felt lucky that she knew you. That she got to love you. Even the parts of you that you didn’t like to talk about.

She sent you a kiss, and you caught it, sliding it into your pocket with a wink. And then with a blink, the mask of your character was sliding back into place as your fingers briefly ran over the braided bracelet that never left your wrist.

Taylor approached you with a crystal trophy, passing it to you with a hug and words only you could hear whispered in your ear.

You nodded as you pulled away, saying something back with a cheeky smile. Alessia knew there would be lip readers all over TiK Tok later trying to decipher the exchange.

And then you turned back to the audience, looking out over the crowd like you were royalty surveying your kingdom, your eyes twinkling as they continued their ruckus applause.

You waited another long second before you held up the crystal trophy reminiscent of how Alessia had helped hoist the Euros trophy, before you took another bow and then were gone, disappearing backstage with Taylor.

She wasn’t sure how you got out of your speech, but she guessed Tony would release one for you later.

“That was fucking incredible,” Travis said as they retook their seats. “How does she sing that high and dance at the same time?”

Alessia dragged her eyes away from where you had disappeared. “She does a lot of breath training,”

Travis nodded like that answer was sufficient, just as Tony appeared in front of them again.

“Do you want to go backstage? I'm not sure if Y/n will be coming back out,” He said softly. “The show is almost over anyway,”

She met his gaze, seeing the message that he hadn’t said out loud. The worry hidden in brown eyes. It was familiar in a slightly unnerving way.

You were always the consummate professional, brushing off concern with ease and navigating situations that put you on edge without a hair out of place.

You would push through because that is what the Hollywood machine expected from you, even in your most vulnerable moments, and no one would know the difference.

You were excellent at pretending until you weren’t.

She knew from just one look that one of two things had happened: you had asked him to come get her or he had seen you struggling and done it himself.

“Sure,” She said, letting him help her up. “It was nice meeting you,”

She directed it toward Travis who nodded in return.

“Taylor should be out in a few minutes,” Tony said toward the man before he led her away.

She didn’t look back to see his response, staying very close to Tony as he led her out of the row.

Clint took up her back the second they made it to the aisle.

She didn’t ask Tony if you were ok, though she wanted to. She would just have to wait and see for herself.

******

Your fingers curled against the wooden counter of the makeshift vanity, as you leaned all of your weight forward.

You closed your eyes and did your best to focus on your breathing.

You were ok.

It didn’t make sense for you not to be.

Your performance had gone off without a hitch. You had accepted your award and not made yourself look like a total idiot.

So why was there a boa constrictor around your lungs?

Maybe it was how claustrophobic the little changing room they had given you was. Maybe it was the fake smiles and handshakes you had received from everyone except for Taylor.

You tried to pull in more oxygen, but it felt like you were sucking air through a straw.

You shook your head, forcing your eyes to meet themselves in the mirror (adamantly ignoring the gleaming award sitting next to you), knuckles turning white as you tried to ground yourself in the moment.

They were wide, terrified with pupils blown wide like you had taken too much of your ADHD medication.

What the fuck was happening to you?

You tried to force another breath through your lungs, sucking in deeply through your nose and pushing it out your mouth.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

You didn’t even blink when the curtain that separated your small changing room from the hallway was slowly pulled aside.

You didn’t have to. You already knew that the only person Steve and Natasha would let through was your fiancé.

“Hey,” She said, stepping up behind you and placing a very careful hand on your shoulder. “Tell me your color,”

Her voice was soft but twinged with the edge of command that never failed to make you melt. She wasn’t asking you where you were at, she was ordering you to tell her.

It took a moment for the question to filter past the roaring in your ears, and the rapid beating of your heart. It took another for you to assess what you were feeling.

You knew you could just say yellow, the blanket term for caution, but you also knew you had a plethora of other options. Ones that reached past the traditional stoplight system to be more descriptive. Ones that made it easier to put your emotions into words- something you had always struggled with.

You swallowed hard, reaching for a color that you hardly ever used outside of the bedroom, and even then you had only used it once. “Orange, I think,”

Alessia’s hand tightened on your shoulder, but her expression didn’t change.

Orange meant anxious. More than anxious really. It meant trapped. Too confined. Too constricted.

It meant on the wrong edge of panic, but not far enough gone to be red.

“Ok,” She said, her voice even, calm. A complete contrast to how you felt. “Can I come closer?”

It was probably a strange question considering that the changing room was so small that she had to be within a foot of you to be inside, but you appreciated the thought (likely born from the last time where you had pulled the quick-release cord on the rope harness Alessia had crafted and hadn’t wanted any contact for almost an hour).

You nodded.

You wanted her touch. You craved it, and a part of you knew it would be the only thing that would help you breathe again.

“Words my little one,” Alessia prompted you softly.

You nodded again. “Yes, please,”

She moved immediately, dragging her hand across your shoulders as she stepped behind you, and down your arm to rest on your wrist just above your bracelet while the other slid across your abs. You didn’t even remember undoing your shirt.

Her chin hooked over your shoulder as she pulled you back into her, pressing her lips very gently to the skin under your ear.

“Breathe with me,” She said, taking an exaggerated breath in, her chest expanding against your back.

You did your best to copy her, even if it made your chest ache.

It took several minutes, but eventually your stuttered, shaking breaths steadied, and you relaxed in her arms.

“Good girl,” She hummed when she felt you settle into her, placing a very gentle kiss by your ear. “Better?”

“Better,” You agreed. “Thank you,”

“Always,” She said, her fingers tapping gently on your abs. “Your performance was incredible by the way. I’m so proud of you,”

“Really?” You asked, your voice going soft, and an insecurity you didn’t let anyone by Alessia see creeping into your tone.

“Yes,” She promised, her lips tickling your ear. “You were spectacular. You had everyone on the edge of their seats, including me,”

You leaned back into her, your head tilting to give her more room. “Thank you,”

It could be considered strange sometimes, how your need for physical touch changed after anxious moments. How sometimes you shied away from it and needed space to ground yourself. Other times you needed it desperately to bring yourself back down to earth.

It could be considered strange how…quickly you could go from one end of the spectrum to the other. But it had always been that way.

You could tell that she was trying to gauge your mood by the way her hand splayed low on your stomach, shifting just enough so her pinky was brushing the waist of your khakis. Silently asking if you needed more contact.

Your breath caught in your throat as her lips turned to your exposed neck, her teeth gently grazing the skin.

“What is your color,” She asked you seriously, and you held in your groan at the tone.

“I’m ok,” You said, fighting to keep your voice even, and your body still (one of the rules that existed when the two of you did things like this). “Want more,”

She hummed, but her hand didn’t move and her lips completely detached from your neck. “That isn’t what I asked you. Tell me your color,”

You met her eyes in the mirror, a shiver running down your spine at the icy blue you found there.

You knew what she was really asking you.

It wasn’t just about if you wanted to go farther. She was making sure you were still present. That you were there enough to consent. That you weren’t just doing what you thought she wanted you to do.

You swallowed, working through what you were feeling, rolling through the more descriptive menu of colors you had to choose from.

“Amber,” You decided. One of the colors that was in between green and yellow. The one that told her you couldn’t deal with anything heavy or teasing, but that you were coherent and most importantly able to consent.

She hummed, her lips returning to your neck, and her hand glided further down your abs. “That’s what I thought too,”

You couldn’t stop the low groan that left your lips when her hand slid past the waist of your Khakis, or when her thumb began to toy with the hem of your boxers.

“You did so well tonight, my little one,” She said into your ear. “I’m so proud of you. Let me take care of you now,”

You let your head fall back completely on her shoulder, as her hand finally dipped into your boxers and her teeth gently joined her lips at the sweet spot on your neck.

Her fingers were gentle as they walked down the front of your groin until they landed between your lower lips.

She didn’t immediately go for your clit, choosing to dip lower between your legs instead.

A shiver went down your spine when she ran through you, making a low sound just below your ear.

“You’re wet,” She said, the words tickling your ear. “Is this for me, little one?”

You swallowed hard. “Always for you,”

Her teeth nipped at your ear. “For who?”

“You Daddy,” You murmured. “Always for you,”

It was true. You had been ready for her as soon as you saw her in her dress.

Selena and Barbra knew that blue was your favorite color on her because of how it brought out her eyes. They knew you were obsessed with the feeling of silk and satin.

They had known what they were doing when they chose your outfits, and not just in the sense of what the fans would think.

She hummed, her fingers slowly dragging through you. “And to think all of those people out there think it’s for them,”

“Not for them,” You said, shaking slightly as a finger slipped inside. “Your daddy,”

“I know,” She agreed, her voice soft, soothing despite the harshness of her teeth on the soft skin of your neck, no doubt leaving a dark mark you would have to cover later.

Or maybe you wouldn’t cover it.

That was a decision that could be made later.

“You performed so well. You’re so good,” Alessia repeated, as she finally began to move, a second finger joining the first after only a few thrusts. “Now let daddy reward you,”

She shifted so her palm grazed your clit with every movement as she picked up the pace.

The pressure was perfect but it wasn’t enough, even with her fingers curling against your inner walls.

As if reading your thoughts, Alessia’s free hand moved. It trailed up your arm to under your chin, cupping your neck, the warm metal of her ring pressing into your skin.

She didn’t apply enough pressure to cut off your air, just enough for you to know her hand was there. Enough for the pressure to ground you. To prove that she was there.

You sucked in a sharp breath, melting back into her.

“That’s it, my good girl,” Alessia crooned, her mouth never leaving the abused skin just under your ear. “You’re doing so well for me,”

You were good.

You were doing well.

You could feel yourself rising higher, the coil in your tummy pulling tighter. You knew what was coming, the sweet release that would wipe every thought from your brain.

“Please,” You breathed out, feeling a smile curl on the lips against your neck.

She hummed as if considering the request.

The rational part of your brain knew that she wouldn’t string you along like she sometimes loved to do, not with the color you had given. The rational part of your brain knew she wouldn’t ruin the orgasm threatening to crash over you like she enjoyed when you were both bored at events.

She wouldn’t make you wait when neither of you had agreed to play a game tonight.

But the rational part of your brain wasn’t in control right now.

“Cum for me little one,” She said after a long second, her pace never changing, the hand on your throat squeezing just a bit.

But that was all it took.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you felt the hand on your neck move to form a seal over your lips, stopping any sound from leaving you.

Alessia kept up her movements, working you through your orgasm, and supporting your weight as you went nearly boneless against her.

“Good girl,” She said, slowing her hands as the final aftershocks rocked through you. “Always my good girl,”

You groaned low, your eyes opening to meet her smoldering blue in the mirror and her hand fell away. “Say it again please,”

“You are my good girl,” She repeated, keeping eye contact with you, carefully removing her hand from your core. “And I’m so proud of you,”

She brought her fingers to your lips, and you accepted them without question, sucking greedily at her skin until it was clean.

She pulled them from your lips with a chuckle. “I take it you’re feeling better?”

“Yes,” You agreed, leaning back into her. “I don’t know what happened. I got off stage and it was like I couldn’t breathe,”

“Well, you went from a very emotional performance, which was breathtaking by the way, to winning a massive award,” Alessia reasoned gently. “That’s a lot of emotional bandwidth to handle,”

You made a low noise. “It’s always coming down that’s the hardest,”

“I know,” Alessia hummed, kissing very gently just below your ear.

“You helped,” You continued.

“I will always help you,” Alessia promised fiercely, and you believed her. “Are you ready to get changed so we can get out of here?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

But you made no move to leave her arms.

You were too comfortable to move, wrapped in her safety, and she let you stay there for a few more minutes before she carefully unbuttoned the two buttons left on your shirt, and did the zipper on your pants.

You didn’t remember her unbuttoning those, but then again you were a bit… distracted.

She pulled away as she dragged the shirt from your shoulders, dropping it unceremoniously on the makeshift table next to your Horizons award. You slid your pants down and turned to face her.

“Selena dropped off my after outfit,” You gestured towards the garnet bag sitting in the chair behind her.

Alessia undid the zipper, pulling out another blue suit, this one more plain than the first.

“I think she knew how this night would end,” Alessia said, passing you the extra pair of boxers Selena also included in the bag.

You hummed, swapping the boxers. “Perhaps we’re getting too predictable,”

“Or our stylists just know us too well,” Alessia countered, holding out a black button-down for you. You slipped your arms through the sleeves and stepped closer to her so she could do up the little snaps. “And changing our… routine doesn’t exactly appeal to me,”

“Me neither,” you agreed, taking the pants when she was finished and thanking the universe that there was elastic around the waist. You tucked your shirt into them and pulled on the dark blue vest that matched. “Will you help with the tie?”

“Of course,” Alessia rolled her eyes, pulling the blue silk out of the garment bag. “Come here my love,”

Your nose scrunched involuntarily at the nickname she had chosen, but you straightened and stepped closer to her.

“What’s with the face?” She asked, lips ticking up as she placed the tie around your neck.

You shrugged, looking away slightly, red bleeding into your cheeks. “I like the other nickname better,”

“Which one?” She questioned, using a thumb to move your chin so you were looking at her again. “My little one or my good girl,”

A shiver ran down your spine as she repeated the nickname.

It wasn’t the one she usually went to, because you didn’t usually enjoy it. But tonight was different.

Something about it felt… right.

“Ah,” Alessia said, reading your expression. “Keep your chin up so I can do your tie, my good girl,”

You let out a low sound but kept your chin tilted up.

It only took her a second to do the knot, straightening the bow so it was centered. “There, good as new, and gorgeous as ever,”

The red on your cheeks bled down your neck and up toward your ears. “Thank you,”

“Always, my good girl,” She said, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Do you want the jacket too?”

You shook your head. “Why don’t you wear it? It’ll look smashing with your dress,”

“It is a bit chilly in the hall,” Alessia reasoned, and you leaned around her to grab the soft material, holding it for her.

She turned and you draped it over her shoulders.

“Perfect,” You murmured, your fingers lingering on her shoulders.

There was something incredibly sexy about seeing her draped in something that was yours. You wondered if this was how she felt when she saw you wearing the braided bracelet (or your collar), or when she wrapped you in intricate knots or left dark bruises just under your chin.

It was how you felt when you saw the real ring on her finger.

“Enjoying the view?” Alessia asked, raising a perfect eyebrow at you.

You blinked at her, not realizing she had turned to face you again. More heat joined the flush already in your cheeks.

“Always,” You said, your eyes crinkling with your smile. “You’re still as ravishing as ever,”

“Let’s go before we end up here all night,” Alessia hummed, holding her hand out for you. “You might want to run your hand through your hair,”

“I think it’s adequately messy,” You shrugged. “The fans will enjoy every hair being perfectly out of place, and I’m going to put on a beanie once we get to the car,”

“Wouldn’t want them to see your favorite disguise,” Alessia said, as you took her hand.

You wiggled your eyebrows. “No. Then I wouldn’t be able to sneak into arsenal games undetected,”

“You mean it wouldn’t allow you to get mobbed at games because your disguise is never good enough for general admission,” Alessia corrected, moving toward the curtain of the dressing room.

“That was once,” You huffed. Alessia raised her eyebrow at you.

“Fine, twice,” You conceded with a wave of your free hand as she pulled you out of the changing room.

“Try 6,” Tony said, as soon as you stepped into the bustling hallway.

You didn’t ask how he knew what you were talking about. You didn’t have to.

You knew your privacy wasn’t really private. Especially not here, even if you wanted to pretend it was.

“More like 8,” Steve intoned, stepping away from his spot guarding the entrance to the little makeshift room. “You have a bad habit of ending up in places you shouldn’t be without enough security,”

You shrugged. “Yelena and Natasha are plenty,”

“Together, yes,” Steve sighed, as Clint appeared behind him. “Not when you only take one or the other,”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to Alessia, and wrapping your free arm around her lower waist. “Details,”

Alessia hummed, noting the change in your demeanor, her eyes drifting up to see the cause (a little black camera on the ceiling further down the hall).

“Shall we go, darling?” You asked, again imitating Norma Desmond. “The cameras are waiting, Ms. Russo,”

Alessia nodded, squeezing your hand. “Yes, let's go home. I believe we have some unfinished business to attend to,”

“Ah yes,” You agreed, wiggling your eyebrows. “I still need to get my taste,”

Alessia and your security laughed, though there was a glint of something very familiar in your fiance’s eyes. Something that told you that this night was far from over.

Something that told you she would be… claiming you as soon as you were away from prying eyes.

Something that told you this night would be ending with something just between the two of you.

Something that was yours that the outside world couldn't take away from you.

“Don’t worry, my good girl,” Alessia murmured, pulling you close. “You’ll get all the tastes you can handle,”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #safe harbor universe

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auspicioustidings · 3 months ago

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THE OMEGA DRABBLES THAT YOU KEEP ADDING ON…. So delicious thank you for the scrumptious meal i cant emphasize how much i fucking love it. Almost want to know how they’d react if reader still found some random alpha to fuck anyways 😩😩💕

not saying it as a way to pressure you into writing more ofc i hope it doesn’t come across that way 😭 also love your kinktober series! Please don’t pressure yourself if you ever get writer’s block for it! 🫶🏻

I fucking love omegaverse, like I only read my first omegaverse book when I was bitterly depressed and in bed at the start of this year and oh boy I have not looked back.

She would find another alpha to fuck is the issue. Lots of ways it can go, but I do love the angsty version even if the fluff or smut versions would probably be more fun.

Like she's not an idiot, she has some self awareness about this weird thing between her and pack 141. Ghost is over protective of her on missions even when he pretends he isn't, Soap consistently scares off other alphas who are around her when she's in the mess or rec room, Gaz is always brushing against her, touching her in the small ways he can without giving himself away and Price... she knows she fucked up with that shirt. She realised too late and by the time she went to grab it he had taken his laundry bag. And yet his shirts keep being left for her.

If she spent her heat with them it would all fall apart. She's barely managing to resist the pull to them as is, she's noticing that sometimes they aren't complete fucking assholes, Christ she's actually finding herself smiling over things they do or say sometimes.

Soap confronts her over the heat clinic paperwork. He's mean, they fight. He says some absolutely horrid things to her about how she's slutting it up with civilians, how she's going to embarrass the whole department presenting like a bitch and whining for alphas. He knows he crosses the line, but he's so angry without understanding why. He barks her. He fucking barks her. "Ye'll naw go tae some fucking clinic tae whore yerself out. Withdraw the application."

It's well over a boundary. Once she withdraws it, it's too late to resubmit even after the bark wears off. They had been in base, she hadn't had any sort of ear piece in to help resist a bark because it was unthinkable any of her allies would do that to her.

He doesn't realised what he's done. Like he storms off thinking he's been a right cunt to her but that she'll go to a clinic anyway because his plan to convince her to spent her heat with him went completely to shit before he could even propose it.

And because he tells the others that's what she did, they all think he's right. They're all mad at her when she gets back from heat leave, cold. Gaz will not touch her. Price doesn't leave shirts. Soap leaves her to the mercy of pushy alphas in the mess and rec room so she just withdraws entirely from those spaces. Ghost takes missions, just removes himself from having to see her at all.

Of course none of them know she spent her heat in one of the military's heat rooms because a sanctioned heat clinic will not take someone last minute (and she wouldn't go to a non-sanctioned one, that would be dangerous but worse could get her fired if found out). The military do not like omegas, so it's almost a punishment. Padded cell, clinical nest, cold hose downs every so often to keep her temperature down. Little camera blinking in the corner so someone can come in and sedate her if she starts hurting herself.

She thinks they are all being extra horrid to her because they watched her lose control, so she is just as angry at them if not more. It was a violation what Soap did, but to watch her in that cell lose her fucking mind? They can go fuck themselves, she's a good goddamn soldier and it's not her fault she needed to go through a heat. They'd never have survived it, they'd never have gotten through the pain and delirium of being forced to do it alone. She is stronger than they could ever fucking dream of being, and she is going to prove it.

(if you want to go ultimate angst version then the military heat rooms have officers fuck her through it and oh boy not only are they awful but they will taunt her with the video footage).

#mhairianswers

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lonelyprincess666 · 3 months ago

Text

Welcome✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Hi💕! How u doing? This is my personal blog were I talk about my struggles and (as u see in my description) daddy issues and loneliness. I only want to write my thoughts and use this blog as journal. Hope u like what u read. This is a safe space and I only want this to go for the best💕 thanks for reading this. Read the sentences in pink pls!

To all people who think I'm ghosting them or k don't reply. Unfortunately I don't have service in my phone and when I go to school I can't reply to my DMs and then when I get home I try to respond to most of them. I'm sorry if I didn't reply to u but I do my best...

Also. I don't spend all my day on this app. I also have my things to do and my personal life. I'm not a chat robot always there on ur phone... Some people just forget this somehow.

About me✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I'm a 18 year old girl.

I'm curvy/chubby (my tummy isn't flat)

I'm 5.4 ft.

I'm bisex.

I'm a virgin.

I discovered that I'm autistic like 1 month ago... Yeah. (Edited)

What I like✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I'm an artist that has draw for her entire life. Art is a really important part of my life and what helped me going through lots of terrible stuff that made me suffer.

I'm a metalhead. I love the rage that starts in my head when black metal starts playing in my headphones.

I sleep a lot.

I'm a library rat. I read everything that is about love stories, smuts and life stories.

Little edit:

This page is free judgement and it's safe for everyone. I'm really open minded. 💕

I tend to gosth or disappear for sometime, but it's because I get easily tired and I sleep a lot. I'm sorry in advance! 💕

I'm bisex, so girls hmu! I don't bite. I'm a good girl 💕

If u want to get in touch with to become friends feel free to do that. I'm pretty lonely... 💕

If u want to DM me feel free to do that. But just keep in mind that I don't send nudes and I don't want any weird request. 💕

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

#personalblog #daddy issues #vent #venting #journal

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kitorin · 2 years ago

Text

one more time.

contents. 6.031k words (gave up on proof reading i'm sorry-), second chance romance, hurt to comfort, author + psychologist reader, swearing, nsfw (not smut just mentions), getting drunk, one nightmare, abandonment issues, kaiser’s terrible with people, it takes a while for kaiser to appear

part two to this

a/n. i guess you could read this as a stand alone, but a lot of the details won't make as much sense (like they'd have a lot more relevance and meaning if you've read part 1). and you're being referred to by your first name by your nephew for the sake of keeping it gn

"y/n?"

Your nephew's question brings some of your attention towards him, with the rest focusing on the road. Rain droplets raced along the windows, and he must've gotten bored of guessing which one was the fastest.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"When are you getting married?"

The innocent yet so significant question made you choke on your own spit. It was unexpected for a child to not gag at the idea of intimacy and love, let alone one questioning your marital status.

"Why are you asking something like that?" You carefully dodge the question, given that you have little to no experience with any sort of romance, the closest to love was an eternity ago. Despite graduating from college already, nothing about that had changed.

"Well." He begins explaining himself. "Mama and papa met each other in high school, they got married when they were younger than you." Unlike you, your sibling had a quite successful love life, already married and with a child. The fact that they were even high school sweethearts seemed to only accentuate your sorrowful envy.

"Your parents were lucky. Not everyone gets to meet the person they love forever in high school. Even if they do not everyone ends up marrying them." It was a difficult approach. You wanted him to fully understand the possible outcomes of love but didn't want him to avoid it entirely. "Love is dumb luck. Sadly, not everyone ends up loving someone who loves them back."

"Hmm." He sounds like he's deep in thought, which also surprised you given that he was still young and oblivious to these sorts of discussions. "Were you unlucky? Is that why you're not married?"

The query stung a bit. Not necessarily because it hurt to be reminded of him, but because it wasn't mere misfortune. It was ultimately up to him to act that way.

"Hmm, I guess. Your father got all the luck I suppose." You chuckle, an attempt to conceal that your heart was begging for some sort of closure, even after all this time.

"But that's not fair."

A sigh leaves your lips as you continue. "It isn't. But that's just life."

"What happened to them? Did they not like you?"

"They did at one point. I think. It was pretty obvious but after I liked them back, they became a bad person" It felt so weird. You've bottled up all the memories and emotions, sealing them away from the world, yet with this tiny child you've decided to open up. It's odd, but not uncomfortable.

"They're dumb."

"You can't say that. It's not their fault for not liking me-"

"But you're amazing. You always spend time with me since Mama and Papa are too busy to. You bring back yummy snacks and tell the best stories. You even teach me so many new things. You're the best person ever."

Although misery from the past had been reawakened and nurtured at the topic of the conversation, his kindness seemed to combat that, you can't help but grin.

"I'm glad you appreciate that."

"You deserve better!"

That makes your breath hitch up, a weird, indescribable sensation accumulates in your chest, and for the first time in a while your eyes begin to prickle.

You blink away the sensation. Three, simple words uttered by a literal child, yet it seems to affect you so much to the point you're moved to tears.

Because no one ever told you that.

No accusations of you being delusional and crazy. No sort of discomfort inflicted through others attempting to make it public.

It was what you've been waiting to hear for so long.

"Thanks bud. Keep this a secret from everyone else, yeah?" You come to a stop at a red light, turning towards him with a grateful smile.

He mimes zipping his lips. "Of course!"

"I know everyone's asking about me getting married, but it won't happen."

"Why?"

"Because." Because you feel undeserving of it. Because you're terrified of being abandoned like that again. Because you're simply just scared. "Because it just won't. I'd rather focus on making sure you and your parents are happy."

"Am I supposed to do that when I'm older?"

"Maybe not to my level. Make sure you treasure your family, but your lover too." Now that piece of advice makes you wonder what it'd be like if you got lucky.

"I don't want to get married even if I'm lucky. I want to be cool like you and take care of family too."

"Then do that. But don't close off your heart completely. Your dad didn’t think of love when he was a kid, look at him now. But it's completely okay if you don't love anyone." Obviously, you'd support him no matter what, but a part of you desperately wished that he'd be lucky enough to never experience what you did.

He nods but changes the topic. "What about you? You seemed happy when you talked about that person. A different kind of happy."

What was that supposed to mean?

"It's just nostalgia."

"That's a hard word. What does it mean?"

"You'll learn when you're older. Promise." And with that you dodge the topic of love, adjusting the conversation to one about the new Doraemon episode he watched the other day.

"Holy shit Ness look at how good they are at this."

"Fucking useless."

"Please help me with trig, I'm begging you. Really? Thank you so much."

"That's such a bitch move. Class average was so low, yet they're still scared of showing their high B. Fucking pussy."

"I love you."

Fuck.

Another nightmare. It's only a mess of his words, both the good and the bad; followed by overwhelming dread and fear swallowing you. A wave of relentless cold engulfing you and drowning you in the depths of torment.

The dream leaves you drenched in sweat and panting. It doesn't fucking make sense. It's been years, you were only kids and now you're an adult. Yet it still leaves you so affected. You don't even clearly remember what he looked like. Only the cerulean orbs and the blonde wolf cut.

Most people brush off any sort of heartbreak in high school as trivial and temporary, yet yours has clung onto your heart so persistently, that it still constantly haunts you.

Nothing's working. Attempting to date others only accentuated your paranoia and abandonment issues. Trying to open up to trusted ones caused the words to get stuck in your throat, to the point it feels suffocating. You even wrote an entire book about it; sure, it was effective in expressing yourself and it was a huge hit and profitable, but something deep down still hurts.

You keep trying and trying, heart craving for closure. But the only way you'd satisfy that miserable desire is through meeting him.

Only you know that so damn well.

Maybe that's why you keep fiercely trying. It's your own way of hopelessly trying to escape him.

But it's futile. It's so draining.

It doesn't matter though. It should stop soon. It's such a stupid thing to be sad over. You're successful, a now bestselling author known for your beauteous expression of love and hurt, while still working as a psychologist. You've achieved something majority of people couldn't do, and you're seeing the fruits of diligence and hard work. But it still hurts.

You do your best to shrug off this sense of dread, focusing on what's important.

"Thank you for today!"

Your nephew wore his signature grin, one that was adorable and so full of joy. It was almost impossible to not smile back at him.

With the commencement of school holiday, you decided to take him to a nearby soccer match, France vs Germany. You didn't know anything about soccer, but he loves the sport, constantly practicing and rambling about Julian Loki (a.k.a. his favourite player of all time) You got extremely lucky, if it weren't for Yoichi and his connections to the JFA you wouldn't've been able to surprise your nephew. Yoichi wasn't prepared to see you constantly thank him ("You're my closest friend, your nephew's a good kid too. Lemme coach him some day!"). He even managed to get you three VIP seats.

"Yocchan, how do I win more? I want to shoot the most goals in my team!"

You passively listen to Yoichi's advice for your nephew, as you can't understand or contribute to the conversation much. It's impressive how people play with this many people watching. The whole stadium was flooded with people, except for the VIP section but that was purely due to how expensive it was.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to France vs Germany!" The commentator booms, earning a cheer from everyone. You expected it to be loud, but not to the point you think your eardrums would burst.

The event went on normally. Player names were read out, with an energetic screech from your nephew when it was Loki's turn. At this point in time, you were pretty laid back, given that you recognized no one.

"Aaaaand Germany's ace and forward, Michael Kaiser!"

You froze.

Michael Kaiser, the Michael Kaiser from back then?

Finally, you have a vivid image of what he looks like. His blonde hair was partially dyed blue, the pretty shade slowly fading out, and navy roses decorated his neck. Red eyeliner adorned his almost feline like eyes. He looks almost unrecognizable yet he's still the boy who had a crush on you.

Suddenly, VIP seats weren't so tempting anymore. Suddenly, you want to drag yourself out of there and ask Yoichi to supervise your nephew.

But he still looks beautiful.

"I hate that bitch." Same Yoichi, same, you silently agree with him. "He's insufferable and a fucking prick."

"Language." Although you'd agree with him, it was a bit too early for your nephew to start speaking like Yoichi (though you wouldn’t mind him learning how to verbally defend himself from Yoichi).

It's only 90 minutes. There's over 20,000 people. Kaiser won't notice. Besides, high school was years ago. He's a professional player and seemingly a famous one, he would've met plenty of players and coaches, too many to even remember your existence.

You suck up your fear, the three of you cheering on Loki.

"Do you think I can be like Loki?"

The game concluded, and to your nephew's joy with France's win, 3 - 2. To be honest, you were still clueless about the sport, but you could at least tell Loki lived up to his name, rapidly scoring and leaving his opponents in the dust.

"Of course, you could be better than him!" You appreciate Isagi's support but that probably wasn't the right thing to say in an environment full of soccer fans. Nor the smartest.

"I'm going to head to the bathroom, I'll meet you outside." You hurry away, ready to get out of the stadium.

You were being too paranoid earlier, obviously nothing would happen. To a national athlete like him, someone he hurt all the way back in high school, someone who he entirely ignored for a few years too.

"Fucking found you."

As if the universe was transpiring against you once more, you're dragged into some unknown corridor, a hand silencing you.

It's him.

Michael Kaiser, now a full-grown adult. His high school popularity bloomed into real world fame and glory now. While your success had sprouted from seeds of hurt.

Now you're pressed up against a wall by him again. This time with his arms having an iron grip on your shoulders, roughly pushing you against the wall.

You can't help but reflect on last time something like this happened. But instead of childish affection it’s aggressive and rough, with his aquamarine eyes clouded with something unreadable. That wasn't particularly new, but what changed was that the foreign but hostile glint flickering in them.

All Kaiser does is stare, hair messy from the match and breathing unstable.

You don't say anything either, you can't even think properly, let alone find the right words to say.

"I've waited for this for so fucking long. You're too distracting."

His arms wrap around you, tightly, as if his life depended on it.

You can't move. Your body won't let you. It's not like you were petrified with fear. It was more so all the conflict of emotions. You weren't sure if you wanted to reciprocate the hug, scream for help, or spit in his face and swear at him.

"Kaiser... Please let go."

He abides, partially, changing back to his original position of holding you against the wall.

"No."

"Please?”

" You always fight back when you're uncomfortable." He wasn't wrong, you didn't exactly hate being in his proximity. You hated how he treated you, and how he's suddenly here again.

"You don’t mind this, right?”

Despite his words, his releases you, allowing you to run away whenever.

But you don't.

Because even though it'd be smarter to run away and never see him again, the tiny hope within you is still pleading for closure, and Kaiser himself.

"Kaiser, I can't, my nephew-"

"Is with Yoichi." Kaiser brings his face a lot closer to yours. "If you wanted to run away, you would've already."

Both of you remain silent, as your cheeks heat up at his touch and presence. His hands reach towards your face to caress your cheeks, the roughness of his calloused hands contrasting your soft skin. Annoyingly, you whimper at the unfamiliar sensation. It earns a cocky smirk from him.

"Cute, you really haven't changed."

"I don’t want to see you."

"Why? We both know you would've already kicked and slapped me if you really hated me."

"Because" Because he scarred you beyond words. "Because you hurt me. A lot." Your voice cracks up at the end, he's the one person you didn't want to be vulnerable around, both before and after heartbreak.

For the first time in forever, there's something vaguely readable in his eyes. Was that regret? Sorrow? Guilt? Empathy, even?

"I know, I could tell-"

"Then why did you do it?"

You've given up on sounding stoic, evident anger was displayed in your voice.

"I tried everything, dating other people. Yet you still haunt me to this day." Years of accumulated feelings were finally released. "Just when I finally figured out, I liked you, you fucking did that then, and then." The rest is cut off by him.

"... You liked me back...?" There's a significant shift in his tone, from cocky and confident to vulnerable and shocked. "You, liked me...?"

"Of course I fucking did Michael." A quiet gasp leaves his lips at the sound of you finally using his first name again. "You were so sweet and was always there no matter what, until you decided to hate me for no reason."

"No, I've never hated you-"

"Just stop lying. Please. First you lie about loving me and now-"

He swallows the rest of your words with a kiss, denying your claim. The kiss gives you butterflies, your cheeks heat up even more and his lips taste you and him; sweet and irresistible.

When he's done his face is flushed as well, lips swollen. His chest rises up and down, he seems more flustered from the kiss rather than the actual match itself.

It's back to the uncomfortable silence, his hands gripping your shoulders tight and various emotions clouding your mind and heart.

Without a word, Kaiser just leaves.

The action evokes a nostalgic yet dreaded emotion, it's just like how he initiates whatever he wants without considering anyone else.

You swallow your hurt, leaving the hallway and finding Yoichi and your nephew.

You don't lie to your loved ones. You’d rather die than deceive your nephew or your best friend Yoichi. But tonight, was an exception.

It's not like you wanted to make Yoichi baby sit your nephew ("Sorry, work suddenly called me in), but you were too hurt to spend time with anyone.

The bar's loud, all the noise drowns out your thoughts, as you're up to the nth bottle of alcohol, no one was keeping track.

It's out of character for you to drink so much, but the state of being disconnected from the world, not having to deal with any worries was irresistible.

"You're drinking a lot." A stranger seated next to you comments, you don't bother questioning who they were.

"I desherve it." You slur out, evidently flat out wasted. "I hate men! Especially the German ones." A few glares were probably received after you said that.

"Why's that?" Their calm tone juxtaposed your upset and livid one.

"Because, because, this bitch leaves me heartbroken for years, appears out of nowhere, kisses me and." You're cut off by a hiccup. "Disappears again! I, I-" You're a complete mess, hiccupping while chugging down alcohol, and now sobbing with tears messing up your expression.

The stranger doesn't respond, taking a quick sip from his own glass.

"Did you know," You begin explaining, despite them not asking. "I did so much. I never wanted to date much but I tried to so I could forget him. I even went to a party, and I'm scared of those. Heck, I wrote a whole ass book! At least I can monetize my pain."

"You must hate this guy."

"Beyond words, he's the reason why I think everyone will leave me, but I still feel like I have some kind of hope. If you want to know more, you should read my book." Now you were self-promoting, but the alcohol diminishes your shame. At this point it wouldn't be surprising if people were concerned about how much you've drank. "There's no point of a stupid psychology honours degree if I can't fix myself."

All they do is chuckle, still calm. "I'll read it, and I'm sure he likes you back if he kissed you. There's nothing about you to fix."

You burst into laughter; you sound borderline manic. "That's what I thought after he said he loved me." Another glass, swallowed down by you with ease.

"After all, there's no way the Michael Kaiser would actually love me."

The next morning you wake up, with a splitting headache and swollen eyes.

You try to get up and get started with the day, but the lights are so blinding, only amplifying the splitting headache.

How much did you drink?

Now you start remembering last night, the (probably) unhealthy amount you drank, your inconsolable bawling and that mysterious yet kind stranger. Your immediate reaction is to grab your pillow with plans of screaming into it, out of embarrassment, praying that you'll never meet that person again and that they'll forget who you are.

Wait.

Since when were your pillow cases white?

And where did your bookcase go? What about the drawings from your nephew and childhood you cherished and decorated your room with? And what happened to your clothes, since when did you own white robes?

Shit.

"Finally awake?"

Your eyes have finally adjusted to the light, and blinding white melts into something, no, someone.

Kaiser.

He's seated at the end of the bed, white robe matches yours, with his exposing his toned and muscular chest, and the navy roses blooming on his neck.

What the hell happened.

It's as if your fight or flight response was triggered, and your brain decided on flight with full confidence, you scurry backwards, avoiding him like the plague.

"Did we-?" The new and completely different outfit and waking up in his bed were obvious hints.

He blinks.

There's no fucking way.

"Did you at least use protection? If I get fucking chlamydia because of you, I'll ki-"

Kaiser laughs. So hard that it sounds like he can barely breathe.

"I didn't say we slept together. The y/n who never understood anything remotely sexual, instantly assuming we went that far." He composes himself, "No, we did not fuck. You were too drunk to consent."

"Then..." Your hands grip at the robe.

"Nothing happened. All I did was give you that to change into"

Alright, now you've confirmed that you don't need to get tested for any STDs or STIs.

"Goodbye then, where's my stuff?" As you try to get up, his hand holds you and your shoulder down, denying your question.

"Don't run away."

It's so ironic for him to tell you that when he stopped talking to you, avoided you, and even went as far as treating you badly. Anyone would want to run away if their first love who had scarred them emotionally randomly reappeared in their lives.

You remind yourself to remain rational, to stay calm and respond maturely, to deescalate the cascading sentiments overwhelming your heart, like a proper, polite, and perceptive adult.

But you don't want to be an adult. Not when it feels exactly like your high school years, ones where you had stayed up late just to innocently fawn over Michael Kaiser. Only for your heart to be a toy, one that he had thrown away and ruined merely because he had enough of playing with it.

You're a scared teenager alone in your room again, fearful of everything, heart closed off to the point not even you could fully comprehend what it was feeling.

You just want to run, to run away from all your problems until they'd give up hunting you down, until they found other prey to pursue, until you could live at peace with your scars.

When people mention 'confronting your fears', most would imagine someone fearless and undisturbed, someone who knows what they're doing. Yet you completely contrast that curated image, a troubled individual who wants to return to how they were before their irremediable suffering.

"Don't give me that crap. You're the one who fucking did that to me."

He's the one who decided to poison you with the suffocating fear of abandonment.

"You never cared for me in any way, why should I bother listening to you now?"

To break your heart was one thing. To do it out of nowhere without explanation after years of captivating affection was another.

Kaiser remains silent, expression still stoic.

"I hate you."

That's what you've told and convinced yourself for so many years, yet something inside of you refused to fall for your self-inflicted dishonestly. The part that miserably prayed that Michael Kaiser would one day go back to the boy who was head over heels for you.

You've managed to forget this torment for years, but all he's doing is ruining it, making it even more difficult to get over him and the indescribable hole in your heart.

But now, it doesn't seem like you're the only hurt one.

By the end of your speech, you're panting, despite only staying still in bed. You still have so much more to say, but you're already in disbelief that you've finally expressed the hardships plaguing you, and to the reason for said burdens.

"Why'd you hurt me?" And it finally happens. Tears. Ones that had hid from the world, cowering at the thought of another witnessing this pathetic vulnerability. “Everything would be so much easier if you never appeared again, but you had to randomly appear again to kiss me, only leave again.”

He finally speaks. Voice equally soft and weak as yours. “I know I did. And I know it wasn’t right. But I never wanted to, I never wanted you to hate me or end up hurt. I’ve always wanted the opposite.” Kaiser shuffles closer, hand inching closer towards yours, not daring enough to hold onto it.

He inhales, deeply, as if this whole ordeal had an emotional toll on him too.

“I didn’t avoid you because I hated you, or wanted you to get hurt. I wasn’t trying to play with your emotions either. I was young and foolish.” For the first time, he’s readable, evident sorrow painting his features. Right now, he was a complete juxtaposition of his image on the field, assertive and lionhearted to now frightened and uncertain.

He’s not done yet. “I’ve always liked you, from the day we started talking. I wanted to love you properly, to take you out on nice dates and to be a boyfriend no one could ever compare to. I was just… scared.” The Michael Kaiser admitting to fear was something new. “Scared of ending up as a disappointing lover or you never reciprocating. I ran away yesterday because I was a coward. But I don’t want to stay as one. I refuse to."

Kaiser continues. “It feels unreal, the idea of you liking me back when you’re so perfect. You’ve always been mature, diligent, and hardworking, your future seemed so bright with how academically proficient you were. At the time I was so unsure of myself and felt so inferior, it doesn’t justify anything I’ve done but I wanted to rather hurt instead of being hurt.”

“You, think I’m perfect…?” It’s such an innocent question. The praise seemed to melt away the resentment accumulated within your heart, and momentarily you forget wanting to leave.

“Of course, I do.” There’s still the same vulnerability in his expression, but this time it’s complemented with a soft smile. “I mean, look at you. You always got the top marks, and you’ve achieved a dream of entering the psychology field. I still love what you wrote about PSTD.”

How did he know that?

“I never mentioned my job.” He still remembers that one piece you wrote, a task that your English teacher had given. You were allowed to write anything you wanted to, and that was the birth of that PTSD essay, which Kaiser had found impressive for the level of detail it had.

“Your books state it.”

And how does he know about those too? You used a pen name for privacy and to avoid any attention to your personal life and loved ones.

“I never mentioned being an author.”

“You certainly did last night. I quote ‘you should read my book’.”

Wait.

A wave of realization crashed over you, the poor individual you complained to about Michael Kaiser was Michael Kaiser himself. Now the memories are flooding in, the declarations of hate, the miserable murmuring, and your stupidly embarrassing behaviour.

But even after recalling all the events and details of that night, you don’t remember providing a title and your pen name. It’s a complete secret, not even Yoichi or your own family know.

“I didn’t tell you the novel name though?”

Kaiser’s now grinning, but there’s still the soft feel to demeanor. “I’m a bit of a fan. ‘Where the Sea and the Horizon Meet’ is my favourite." It’s the book you wrote about him.

“But how did you know I wrote it?” Anyone can write about their tragic first love and the bitter yet beautiful saccharinity it entails. Your pen name didn’t allude to your legal one in any manner, and you dismissed any questions that interviews that attempted to intrude into your personal life.

“Because I instantly knew it was about you, about us. I’d never forget that day, right before English. When wanted to tell you I loved you since it was so pretty that day. I missed bothering you. I missed you.”

He actually remembered?

All this time you had assumed it was a memory that had been sitting at the back of his mind, only to be forgotten so easily after a couple of years.

You don’t say anything. It’s so confusing and overwhelming, the person who hurt you did it out of the fear of hurt, yet still missed you.

“You didn’t forget?”

“No. You were the first and only person I’ve ever loved.”

First… and only too?

You hadn’t shown any signs of auditory hallucinations recently, right?

Even though he himself just said it, it’s still a fever dream to you, unreal and fictitious.

Did you hear that right? You’re the first and only person he’s ever loved; all those touching memories were real, that heartfelt proclamation of love wasn’t fake.

Despite Kaiser’s confession to being in love with you, there was the tiny part of you that was still convinced that you were dreaming; that none of was real.

Because someone who completely destroyed you so long ago shouldn’t be able to waltz back in so easily.

Yet every part of you is begging for him to come back.

You haven’t said anything for a while, only lost in the storm of thoughts while trying to navigate the seas of your emotions.

“Same.” You whisper, you wish you had said something more than a simple agreement, but it’s all you can muster. And it’s true. No one else had been that loving with you. “I don’t hate you. I hate the pain I felt.” You take back your claim, and he looks like he’s received the best news of his life, relief washing over his features.

“I know, which is why, I would never do again. That’s if, if you’re willing to give me another chance.” He finally has the courage to hold your hand with his own, fingers ghosting over your knuckles. “I want to love you. Again. This time properly, and until I learn how to do perfectly.”

There’s an undeniable fear of you have of vulnerability and love, yet the offer is so tempting.

Is the risk really worth it?

You’ve always depended on logic and rationality to make decisions, and here, it’s clear that trusting someone who hurt you isn’t a smart idea. It’s common sense, but something about him makes you want to oppose your usual ideals; to get hurt over and over again until something works, to finally break down the walls you’ve miserably built, and to expose your heavily guarded heart.

“I love you y/n.”

It doesn’t the possess the same grandeur it did that day, years ago, but it still conveyed the same passion, laced with his true feelings for you.

Only this time, you say it back.

“I love you too… Michael.”

“Am I allowed to kiss you again?”

You permit his request, pressing your lips against his, and it tastes just as saccharine and tempting, but this time it’s now garnished with satisfaction.

“Congratulations on your wedding, Kaiser!”

A smile tugs at his lips as his teammates congratulate him, well pleased with how the event had been turning out so far. His parents were overjoyed about you and the occasion, and everything was running smoothly.

It’s been around three years since you had given him another chance.

You looked flawless, the outfit you chose complemented all your tones (though he’d argue that any colour and shade would’ve looked beautiful on you).

Kaiser couldn’t find the right words to describe how euphoric he felt. The closest to this happiest he’s ever gotten was when you accepted his proposal.

He's relieved and buzzing with a sense of pride. Not the typical, cocky kind, but the kind of proud where he’d be able to happily tell his younger self about all of this, that it all works out in the end, that he eventually makes up for his actions; that he ends up marrying his long time crush.

Everyone was happy, at least, except for one person.

“I can’t fucking believe you’d date and marry this man.”

Kaiser snickers at Yoichi, someone who he’s been competing against constantly and has been his rival for years but is also your best friend.

“I swear, he’s not that bad. But I understand if you’re disappointed.”

“Excuse me, I’m the perfect boyfriend and husband.”

“Oi, did you hear something? Must’ve been a fly. Didn’t expect any here.” Michael’s jaw drops at being ignored by Yoichi.

“Shit, I’ve forgotten the bug repellent, my bad. My mother might’ve brought some.” Michael lets out an exaggerated gasp at the betrayal.

“You guys are so mean.” You and Yoichi grin at his faux pout.

“Well,” Yoichi begins to slip away. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone; I’m going to go say hi to Kunigami and Hiori again. Kaiser I’ll kill you if you ever hurt y/n.” He waves a small bye to you before running off.

“Someone seems to trust you a lot.”

“I- “Before Michael can try to defend himself and respond with a witty comment, your nephew interrupts, with his parents following from behind.

“y/n! Congratulations!” He comes running towards you with a bouquet, so big that it was almost the size of him, it’s a miracle how he’s able to carry it. You quickly accept, hoping that it wasn’t a hassle for him to bring it.

“Thank you. How’d you carry these? They’re too big for you.”

“He insisted.” Your bother replies to you, his wife nodding. “He said he wanted to be the ones to give them.”

A hand playfully ruffles his hair. “Thanks bud.” Even after years he still has the same kindness and enthusiasm.

“We’re going to say hi to everyone, are you coming?”

“Can I talk to Michael and y/n more?” They nod, reminding him to be polite and greet everyone afterwards.

“I can’t believe you’re dating the Michael Kaiser though.” Kaiser stands with pride at your nephew’s disbelief, about to make a confident statement until your nephew continues. “You better behave properly, you clown.”

Again, Michael’s jaw drops and the sight has you biting your lip to avoid laughing uncontrollably. Your nephew runs off to his parents, saying that he wants to see his grandparents.

“Since when did he talk like Yoichi?” He nudges you, still shocked at being called a clown again. “He even waited for his parents to go. And he ran off immediately. ”

“No idea, but I like it.”

“Of course, you do…” He takes a few moments to stare at you, dazed by your beauty and seemingly in a trance. “You’re stunning.”

“What’s with that suddenly?”

“It’s not sudden, you’ve always been cute. And pretty. And just perfect in general.”

“Someone’s cheesy.” But your smile is out of control.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Giving me a second chance.” The morning you woke up in his hotel room comes to mind, and although you were conflicted on whether to let him back into your life again or not, you don’t regret anything.

“Liebling, I’m truly forever grateful for it.” His hand takes yours, planting a kiss on your knuckles.

Because it’s been amazing with him. From the small yet sweet things like how he'd pay attention to literally everything about you, and remember every time detail about you to his grand proposal by the beach, the one that was located near your high school, the one outside of the window when he first declared he loved you. You adored it all; the connection you and him had that no one else would ever understand, to how the sun sunk into the sea, breathtakingly beautiful. Even the aftermath of arguments because he always refused to deal with them immaturely, knowing the consequences of not doing things right better than anyone else. The mere thought of you crying could bring him down to his knees.

Now, if someone were to ask you about Kaiser you'd end up stumped, thinking of all his actions of love, from always defending you no matter what, even if it's him against the world and the media, to how he constantly teases you (he never shuts up about how you assumed you had slept with him when you woke up in his hotel room.) He's your everything, your boyfriend, lover, your own proof reader and soon to be husband.

Now, you'd describe him as your favourite, someone you adore beyond what words could capture, not even your experience as an author could ever change that.

“I love you, so so much. I would die for you Liebe.” Kaiser eagerly kisses you, and no matter how many times he does you never get sick of how he tasted, or how soft and tender they were.

“I love you too Mihya.” You breathe out, crimson dusted all over your face as you’re panting in between words.

He really wasn’t lying when he said wanted to love you properly.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #michael kaiser angst #michael kaiser #alexis ness #michael kaiser x you #fluff #second chance romance #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x y/n #hurt to comfort #bllk x you #bllk angst #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you

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x-press-it · 3 months ago

Text

Devilish Desires - 2/8

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others…) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn’t know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Very quick mentions of drugs - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers.

I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator. Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited. Get ready for some push and pull.

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 2/8

Word Count: 5.1K / 60K+ for now

The smell of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, thick and rich. Logan leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his usual black drink steaming beside him. This was his morning ritual—his quiet moment before the mansion came to life. It was the one part of the day he could claim as his own, a sliver of peace amid the chaos.

Then he heard her before he saw her. The soft click of polished shoes on the tile floor, a subtle shift in the air, and a scent that was both unfamiliar and intoxicating. It unsettled him, that scent—it reminded him of something dangerous, something he couldn’t quite place, out of time, ethereal.

E stepped into the kitchen, moving with that effortless grace that always put Logan on edge. Their sharp blue eyes scanned the room before they approached the coffee pot, casual, composed, like they belonged in every space they entered.

Logan’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that got under his skin. Maybe it was how she moved, like a predator—silent, sure, and entirely aware of her surroundings. Or maybe it was the way she didn’t acknowledge him with the same apprehension or deference others showed. No fear, no caution. Just… presence.

They poured their coffee—black, just like his—and took a long sip, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of their lips as they leaned against the counter opposite him. The air between them thickened. For a second, their eyes met, and Logan felt the weight of her gaze, heavy and searching, like she was peeling back his layers one by one.

He grunted, turning his attention back to his mug, refusing to acknowledge the sudden prickle of heat crawling up his neck. But E didn’t need him to say anything. They felt it—the way his focus shifted, however briefly—and they drank it in. It was like fuel to them, feeding something deep inside, something dark and hungry.

“You always this quiet in the mornings?” E finally broke the silence, their voice smooth, too smooth, like they were toying with him, testing boundaries he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Logan’s grip on his mug tightened. He didn’t like how she talked, like she knew something he didn’t, like this was a game and she already had the upper hand. “When I got nothin’ to say,” he muttered, keeping his eyes trained on the dark liquid in front of him.

E made a soft sound, almost a hum, taking another sip of their coffee. Their eyes never left him, as if they were studying him, waiting for something. “Strange. You strike me as someone with plenty on their mind.”

Logan’s gaze flicked up, his eyes meeting hers for a moment longer than he intended. She was watching him with an intensity that made the back of his neck tingle, amusement dancing in those bright, unflinching blue eyes. “You don’t know me,” he muttered.

“Don’t I?” E’s voice dipped lower, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of something deeper, something more dangerous. They set their cup down, the movement deliberate, controlled, before stepping closer. Too close. Logan’s muscles tensed instinctively, his body coiled, ready, but for some reason, he didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

“You don’t like people seeing through you, do you, Mr Howlett?” Their voice was soft now, yet sharp enough to cut through the thick air between them. “It makes you uncomfortable.”

His brows furrowed, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as an old, familiar defense mechanism kicked in. “I don’t care what you think you see,” he growled, his voice gravelly, rough.

But E’s smirk widened, a flicker of something wicked glinting in their eyes. “Oh, but I do see plenty and it’s fascinating, really.” They leaned in even more, their voice a low purr, words wrapping around him like a net. “The way you try so hard to keep that mask up. Makes me wonder… what happens when it finally slips?”

Logan swallowed, his pulse quickening despite his best efforts to stay calm. He didn’t like this feeling—being out of control, the way she so easily slipped under his skin and played with his instincts. But damn if he wasn’t drawn in, hooked by something primal, something he hated to admit.

E’s eyes flicked over him, slowly, deliberately, as though they were savoring the conflict bubbling beneath his surface. “Don’t worry,” they whispered, leaning in closer, their breath warm against his ear. “I won’t bite. Not yet, anyway.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, every muscle in his body taut, every instinct telling him to move, to get away. But he stayed rooted to the spot, caught in whatever spell she’d cast over him. His breath hitched—barely noticeable, but E caught it. Of course they did. Their smirk deepened, a silent acknowledgment of their victory.

And just like that, they pulled back, their composure perfectly intact, as if the entire exchange had been nothing more than idle conversation. They picked up their coffee cup, taking one long sip, their eyes never leaving his.

“See you around, Logan,” they said, voice lilting with amusement as they turned to leave the kitchen.

Logan stood there, fists clenched, heat still simmering beneath his skin. He watched her go, tension radiating through his body as he tried to shake off the lingering effects of her presence. But he knew, deep down, that this wasn’t over. He was in deeper than he wanted to be—and he wasn’t sure if he could get out.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting warm golden rays over the garden, and for a moment, it almost felt peaceful. Logan jogged down the stone path, his muscles loose from the run, sweat clinging to his skin. The garden wasn’t a place he came often—too many damn flowers. But here, in this quiet stretch of the grounds, he could think. Or rather, try not to think. Fewer people, fewer distractions.

His boots hit the stone in a steady rhythm, the soft whisper of the breeze the only other sound. The air was fresh, almost cool, and he welcomed the solitude. For days now, he’d been trying to shake this nagging tension that had settled between his shoulder blades. It gnawed at him, an itch he couldn’t scratch, a restlessness that no amount of running seemed to ease.

As he rounded a corner, his steps faltered. She was there.

Sitting on one of the wrought iron benches, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders, a thick leather-bound book resting on her lap. The sun kissed her deep, radiant skin, glinting off the small obsidian bumps above her hairline, and for a moment, it seemed as if the light itself was drawn to her. Logan’s breath hitched—just for a second, but enough for her to notice. His senses sharpened, every instinct firing off in a way he couldn’t quite control, as if she was a predator waiting, calculating, and he’d just stepped into her line of sight.

She didn’t look up. But he knew she felt him. The air shifted around her, just the faintest change in posture. It was subtle, deliberate—the kind of thing he’d notice in the heat of a hunt. Her fingers turned the page slowly, like she wasn’t in a hurry. Like she had all the time in the world. Like she knew he was watching.

Logan gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep moving. His boots thudded against the ground louder now, as if the noise could drown out the unsettling quiet that coiled between them. He wouldn’t get drawn in again. Not today.

But as he passed, they tilted their head just enough to catch him in their peripheral vision. It was barely a glance, but it hit like a shot of whiskey straight to his gut. A shiver crawled down his spine, one he tried and failed to ignore. Against his better judgment, he glanced back. A mistake.

Their eyes met his, sharp and knowing. They didn’t smile—they didn’t need to. A flicker of something—satisfaction? amusement?—crossed their face, gone as quickly as it appeared. But it was enough to make Logan’s pulse quicken, enough to unsettle him.

“You always in a hurry, Logan?” Their voice slid into the air between them, smooth and teasing, like they already knew the answer. Their eyes had returned to the book, fingers trailing over the page, as though this conversation was just a casual aside to whatever had their attention.

Logan’s jaw clenched. He kept moving, even as something in his guts told him to stop. To engage. “Just trying to get some air,” he muttered, not slowing his stride, not letting her pull him in.

“Air, huh?” Their voice held that same amused lilt, like they were playing a game only they knew the rules to. “Funny, considering how tense you look.”

Damn it.

Logan stopped. He couldn’t help it. His muscles tightened under his skin, irritation flaring hot in his chest. He should’ve kept going, should’ve ignored her like he’d been trying to do since they first crossed paths. But there was something about the way she spoke, the way she prodded at him—casually, confidently—that made it impossible to walk away.

He turned slowly, narrowing his eyes at her. “What’s your point?”

Their eyes finally lifted from the book, locking onto his with an intensity that made his skin prickle. And there it was again—that hum in the air, electric, thick with something unsaid. Their gaze wasn’t just piercing; it was probing, searching for the crack in his defenses.

“My point…” they said softly, closing the book with a soft thud and setting it aside. They stood with deliberate ease, every movement slow, unhurried, as if they knew exactly how much space to take, how close to get without pushing too far. “…is that you seem restless. Distracted, even.”

Logan snorted, crossing his arms over his chest like it could shield him from whatever she was about to say next. “You think too much, sweetheart.” The nickname came out sharp, deliberate, as if he were using it to keep her at arm's length, a verbal wall meant to keep her at bay.

But they ignored it and took a step forward instead, their smile small but dangerous. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re the one thinking too much.”

Another step, and Logan could feel the heat of her presence, the air between them charged with something he hated to admit was getting under his skin. She stopped just shy of invading his personal space, but close enough that the tension between them was palpable, a tight wire stretched too thin.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Their voice dropped lower, softer, like a secret meant only for him. “That tension… the way the air shifts when we’re in the same space.”

Logan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He hated how right she was. Hated how much he noticed her, how much his body reacted without his permission, as if some primal part of him recognized the threat—and the allure—she posed.

“I don’t feel anything,” he growled, the words rougher than he intended, betraying the lie he was trying to sell. He knew it. Hell, she knew it too.

Their lips curved into a knowing smile, slow and deliberate. “You’re lying.”

They didn’t need to step closer. Didn’t need to touch him. Just the way they said it, with that quiet confidence, made Logan’s blood simmer. His fists clenched at his sides, every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready to spring—but he couldn’t move. Not yet.

“Maybe one day,” they murmured, their voice dropping to a purr, “you’ll stop fighting it.” Their eyes never left his, watching, waiting for that crack in his armor, for the moment when he’d let something slip. And damn it, they were close. Too close.

Logan’s heart hammered in his chest, his pulse thudding in his ears. He wanted to walk away, to tear himself free of whatever hold she had on him, but his feet wouldn’t move. His fists clenched tighter, knuckles white.

“Don’t talk like you know me,” he muttered through gritted teeth, almost a growl.

Their smirk widened, just enough to send another shiver down his spine. “Oh, Logan,” they whispered, their tone dripping with something dark and sweet. “I know you better than you’d like to think.”

With that, they turned, their movements as smooth and deliberate as ever, leaving Logan standing there, chest tight, blood pounding, the weight of their presence lingering in the air like smoke after a fire.

He stood frozen, his breath coming in ragged pulls, his body still tense with that simmering heat they’d left behind. It took every ounce of willpower to shake off the feeling, to force himself to move again. But as he walked, the itch—the pull—they’d left behind only grew stronger, gnawing at him with every step.

And deep down, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

The sound of fists pounding against the heavy bag filled the gym, echoing off the walls, mingling with Logan’s low grunts as each strike landed. Sweat trickled down his back, soaking through his shirt, but he welcomed the burn in his muscles. It was another way to keep his head clear—pushing his body until he couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but the raw force of each hit.

He shifted his stance, throwing another punch, harder this time, letting out a sharp breath. Just as he pulled back for another strike, the gym doors opened, drawing his eye.

There she was again.

Logan’s fists slowed, his attention shifting against his will as she walked in, crossing the room with purpose until she stopped at the bench press. He kept throwing punches at the bag, though his rhythm faltered. She eased under the bar, wrapping her hands around it before lifting a weight that would make most people hesitate, her body moving with a sleek, powerful grace that tugged at something deep in his chest. The bar rose and fell smoothly, muscles straining under her skin but never faltering, her breathing steady and focused.

He wasn’t easily impressed, but there was something about the way she moved—so precise, so damn effortless—that made him pause.

For a moment, he just watched, his brow furrowing slightly. Most people in the mansion wouldn’t touch that kind of weight, but she handled it like it was nothing. A flicker of surprise ran through him. Admiration, even.

He quickly shook it off.

E finished their set, their chest rising and falling as they sat up and wiped the sweat from their brow with the back of their hand. Logan felt the pull before he even realized it, his eyes meeting hers across the gym. Her blue eyes were sharp, sparkling with an intensity that sent a jolt through him. It felt like he’d stepped into her space—invaded it—even though he’d been there first.

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he forced himself to look away, turning back to the heavy bag. He swung again, his fist connecting with more force than necessary, trying to drown out the sudden spike of heat that had crept up his neck.

But it was too late. They’d already sensed it. That brief flicker of admiration—of unspoken curiosity—it rippled through them, feeding that bottomless hunger that simmered just beneath their surface.

Logan could feel it in the air, thick and electric, as if the room itself had shrunk around them. He could sense her gaze lingering on him, watching him, but he refused to meet it. His knuckles slammed into the bag again, harder, trying to force the tension out of his body. But all it did was stoke the fire that had been building for days now, ever since they first locked eyes.

Footsteps padded softly across the gym floor, and Logan cursed under his breath. He didn’t have to look to know who it was. She was getting closer—he could feel the heat of her presence, the way it shifted the air around him, making it harder to focus.

He kept his fists flying, trying to ignore the growing need that tightened in his chest, in his gut, making it damn near impossible to keep his head straight.

“Nice form.” Her voice was smooth, that teasing, silk-like tone threading through the space between them. Close enough now that it was impossible to ignore.

Logan didn’t respond, didn’t stop. His fists continued to pound the bag, but the rhythm had faltered, his focus slipping. He could feel her just behind him, standing too close. Close enough that he caught the faint scent of her sweat, her skin, mingling with his own.

“What is it about you that makes you go quiet every time I try to talk to you?,” they continued, circling slowly, casually, as if they weren’t even trying to get under his skin—but they were. Every move they made, every word, was deliberate. And it was working.

Logan finally stopped, his fists lowering as he exhaled sharply, his chest heaving. He still didn’t turn around, but he could feel her at his back, her gaze searing into him, making the hairs on his neck stand on end.

“Not in the mood,” he growled, his voice rougher than he intended.

“Oh, I think you are.” Their voice dropped deeper, the teasing edge more pronounced now, hinting at the heat pooling in his lower stomach. They stepped closer, just a fraction, but enough for Logan to feel her body heat at his back, enough to make his muscles coil with tension. “You’ve been in the mood for days now. Haven’t you?”

Logan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. Every ounce of reason urged him to move, to put some distance between them, but his feet stayed planted. His instincts—the feral part within him—wanted nothing more than to pull her closer. Damn it. Why the hell was it so hard to walk away from her?

“You’re real sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Logan bit out, finally turning to face her. His eyes were hard, but his chest felt tight with something else—something that felt like surrender, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

They were standing close, too close, their lips quirking into that infuriatingly confident smile. “I’m sure of what I see,” they replied, their gaze flicking briefly to his chest and shoulders, before locking back onto his eyes. “And I see a man who’s barely hanging on by a thread.”

Logan’s breath hitched, his hands flexing at his sides. “You got no idea what’s goin’ on in here,” he muttered, tapping his temple with a rough finger.

Their smile widened just a fraction, head tilting as they stepped in closer, their voice dropping to a soft, lingering murmur. “Maybe.” They paused, closing their eyes for a heartbeat before looking back at him, deep satisfaction dancing on their face, as if savoring the richest taste. “But I can feel this.” Their gaze roamed over him once more, a spark of hunger lighting up their features as their hand rose—slowly—hovering just above his lower belly, palm not quite touching but close enough to stoke the fire burning in him through his t-shirt. “That delicious tension building inside you.” The words rolled off their tongue, each one deliberate, dragging out the moment. “The want…” Their voice dropped even lower. “The need…” Tantalizing. “I know exactly what you crave, Logan.” Their eyes locked onto his, piercing and intense, the heat coiling tight in his abdomen until his breath turned shallow.

Logan swallowed hard, knuckles white, his throat suddenly dry. His pulse raced, blood pounding in his ears. He should’ve pushed her back, should’ve told her to get lost—but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when each of her words sent a shiver down his spine, not when the air between them was thick with tension, every inch of space charged with the unspoken need that he was trying—failing—to ignore.

“I don’t want anything from you,” he growled, but even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. Weak.

They leaned in just a little, their breath ghosting over his jaw. “Liar.”

And with that, E pulled away, their gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before turning back to the bench press. Logan stood there, rooted to the spot, watching them walk away, a noticeable bulge in his sweatpants. His fists were clenched at his side, his jaw tight, throat dry, heart hammering in his chest. Every muscle in his body was taut with the effort of holding himself together. The heat pooling low in his gut and that tension between his shoulder blades were getting worse by the second.

And he knew—damn it, he knew—they were right. He was losing control.

Logan’s boots barely made a sound as he moved through the library, the soft thud against the polished floors blending into the quiet. His intention had been simple—find Marie—but that goal dissolved the second he saw her. Seated under the warm glow of a desk lamp, she was surrounded by a stack of documents—papers, brown files—engrossed in whatever work she was doing.

The library, once expansive and peaceful, seemed to shrink in around him. Logan paused mid-step, his gaze lingering on the curve of her neck, tracing the line of her arm, down to the way her fingers moved with precision across the papers. Every gesture felt purposeful, calculated—yet there was an ease to it, a control that pulled him in.

He knew he should move. Keep walking. Find Marie and get the hell out of here.

But then E’s eyes met his. Calm, but laced with that flicker of hunger he knew too well. It twisted something deep inside him, tightening his gut, stirring up emotions he wasn’t ready to confront, stoking the fire he tried so hard to put down when he saw them. And the smirk—barely there, just a hint at the corner of their lips—felt like they’d caught him in the act, exposed something he hadn’t meant to reveal.

Logan’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his shoulders tensing as he snapped his gaze away. He turned quickly, moving deeper into the rows of shelves, needing space. Needing air.

But even as he tried to put distance between them, he couldn’t shake the feeling—the awareness that her eyes were still on him. It was like she had a direct line to whatever was churning inside him, pulling on it, drawing it out even when he was trying his damn hardest to push it down.

Behind him, E leaned back in their chair, fingers drumming lightly on the wood. That brief exchange had sent a ripple of satisfaction through them, a confirmation of something they’d suspected. Despite the tough act Logan was putting on, his resolve was breaking, little by little.

And that? That only made the game more interesting.

They returned to their papers, but they weren’t really focused. Not fully. They were waiting, ready for the next time his eyes would drift back their way, because they knew it was only a matter of time.

The kitchen was quiet, the soft hum of the fridge filling the space as Logan stepped inside, his eyes scanning the cabinets. It was late, the mansion long since settled into its usual nighttime lull, but for him, sleep still felt a long way off. He reached for an apple on the counter, rolling it between his fingers, the cool skin grounding him for a moment.

That’s when he caught it—familiar and unmistakable.

Spice wrapped in smoke.

His senses sharpened as he turned slightly, watching E glide into the room, moving around him with a deliberate ease. They flowed effortlessly, brushing against him just enough to send a jolt through his veins, lingering close as they reached for a cup from the shelf, not even looking his way. Each movement was unhurried, a silent dance that seemed to say the world outside could wait as long as they wanted it to.

Logan’s heart raced, the tension thickening in the air. He tried to focus on the apple, but his gaze kept drifting back to her. Finally, she poured steaming water over the tea leaves, the fragrant scent of jasmine lazily curling through the air, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. Their hair, still damp from a recent shower, fell in loose waves over their shoulders, glistening under the soft kitchen light, revealing the smooth, rounded tips of their obsidian horns that rose just above their hairline, looking a tiny bit longer than he remembered.

"Late-night snack?" Their voice, soft yet intimate, broke the stillness, the sound of it sending a faint shiver down his spine, already igniting the flames in him. She hadn’t even turned to look at him, but Logan knew she was aware of every move he made.

He grunted, biting into the apple with a sharp crunch. "Somethin' like that."

E stirred their tea, the metal spoon chiming softly against the mug, their attention fixed on the swirling liquid as if it held all the answers. Then they turned to face him, and their eyes met his. For a moment, Logan couldn’t look away. There was something unsettlingly perceptive in the way she watched him, as if she could see right through him, past the gruff exterior and down to the parts of himself he kept locked away. His chest tightened in response, and for just a moment, he hated it—hated how easily she could get under his skin without even trying.

"You seem restless." They took a slow sip of their tea, never breaking eye contact, their voice smooth, drawing him in like a riptide.

Logan shrugged, leaning against the counter, trying to shake off the weight of her gaze. "Got a lot on my mind."

They raised an eyebrow, a faint smile teasing the corners of their lips. "I bet you do."

The air between them thickened, heavy with tension that seemed to wrap itself around Logan, holding him in place. He could feel it—the pull she had on him, like an invisible force drawing him closer even though she hadn’t moved a muscle. It gnawed at him, that frustrating desire to pull away while feeling stuck, as if she held onto something deep inside him, a red thread connecting them, so tight she could pull at it whenever she wanted.

E set their cup down and stepped closer. It was subtle, just a shift in their stance, but Logan felt it—the warmth of her body, the way her presence seemed to fill the room. The soft, floral scent of jasmine with a hint of honey drifted between them, mingling with the heat of their closeness, and Logan’s grip on the apple tightened.

"You ever think about finding a way to… relax?" Their voice dropped, soft and teasing, the question hanging in the air like a tempting offer.

Logan narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenching. He didn’t trust easily, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to start now. But the way she said it, the way those words curled around him, made him wonder if she meant every word that escaped her lips—innuendos included.

"I relax just fine," he muttered, taking another bite of the apple, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. Even he didn’t believe it.

E smiled, stepping even closer now. They leaned against the counter beside him, their fingers brushing the surface near his hand, not touching but close enough that Logan could feel the warmth radiating from her. His pulse quickened, a heat pooling low in his belly as his body betrayed him, reacting to her proximity.

"You keep playin' with fire," Logan warned, his voice rougher than usual, like he was fighting to keep himself together. But the usual edge was missing, softened by the heat building between them, the struggle to maintain his composure growing harder by the second.

Their eyes darkened, something deeper flickering beneath the surface as they held his gaze. "Maybe," they murmured, the words dripping with challenge. "Or maybe I’m just waiting to see if you’ll give in."

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. Logan could feel it—the tension tightening around them, pulling him in closer, like invisible threads wrapping around his resolve, threatening to snap it in two. He knew he should walk away, retreat to the safety of distance, but once again, he stood rooted to the spot, his body betraying him at every turn. The rational part of him screamed to break the moment, to turn away and shut her out like he always tried. But another part of him, the part that felt the heat of her body and the way her gaze made his heart pound, wasn’t so sure anymore.

E stepped back just enough to let the moment unravel, lifting their cup for a slow sip, their eyes holding his, unyielding. "I’m headed to bed," they whispered, casual words wrapped in something heavier, something that lingered in the space between them like an unspoken invitation. "You should too…" Their voice trailed off, hanging in the air for a couple of heartbeats before they finished, softer, almost suggestive. "Might do you some good."

Logan’s jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white around the apple. His eyes tracked her every movement as she turned and walked away, her hips swaying in that same deliberate, confident way they always did. But this time, there was a slowness to it, a knowing in the way she left him standing there, like she was daring him to follow.

And for a split second, his body nearly obeyed. His muscles tensed, his feet itching to move, to follow her down the hallway and give in to the pull that had gnawed at him for weeks now. But then he caught himself, stunned by how close he’d come to losing control, to how easily she had him dancing in the palm of her hand, right on the edge of giving in.

Instead, his eyes followed her, glued to the way she moved, the heat in his chest simmering as desire coiled in his gut.

As they disappeared into the hallway, Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His resolve was breaking, little by little, and each time it slipped, he found himself caring less and less about stopping it.

To be continued…

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

✨ Masterlist ✨

Don't forget to follow the tags "Devilish Desires" and "xpressit writings" to stay tuned for the next chapters 😁

🔖 @quillycrow

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crushedgraham · 1 year ago

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Is it possible to do junker queen HCS? Like sick fic. I’m a sucker for sick fics. Some smut too:D and al

Junker Queen x Sick Gf

hate to break it to you babe....but Odessa doesn't know what the fuck to do

usually you're the person who knows what to do, you're the rationality to her recklessness

so when you get sick she's freaking out

Dez ends up lashing out and threatening her friends/"court" to help educate her with this stuff

she'll come back with 20 different grocery bags of weird shit that'll act as "remedies"???

like hows a box of poptarts gonna help...

Dez will bombard you with all the things she bought but you whisper in a scratchy voice that you just need cuddles and some tea

she pouts and holds up a paw patrol fan; "ya sure you don't need this for your fever?"

anyways, Odessa gives the best cuddles

she's so big and warm, she can just curl herself around you with her muscular arms holding you securely

and yes, even though you have a fever you still want her cuddles 😠

Dez turns on the ceiling fan and an oscillating fan in the corner so you won't get too hot from her added body temperature

i feel like she has a really good immune system so she doesn't really care how close you two are

she'll actually turn into a whiny baby if you don't give her a kiss for a certain period of time

Odessa won't admit it but she hates how you turn your head to the side whenever she tries to kiss you bc you don't wanna "get her sick"

she'll scoff and say "fine! i didn't wanna kiss ya anyways 😒" (please kiss her she needs one or her entire day will be ruined)

this also means she's still ready to get down and dirty even though you're sick

this woman has the sex drive of a teenage boy.

when you're cuddled up into her side and your hand starts tracing her abs?

she's ready to fuck the sickness out of you

and if you're the one who gets horny first?

bro she's gonna go feral

seeing you a little disoriented from the fever while fisting her crop top and sloppily grinding your soaked pussy along the ridges of her abs, literally drives her C R A Z Y

though Dez will be a lot gentler since she doesn't want to push your already exhausted body past its limits

after, she'll run a colder/lukewarm bath and set you in it

Odessa will kneel on the side and wash your body while your eyelids grow heavy

once you're clean she'll slip one of her shirts onto your body and she'll hold you close while you sleep peacefully in her arms

while you're asleep, Dez finally gets some time to actually think clearly about her experiences with sickness

being a wastelander meant she was fighting for her life every single day

sickness was a sign of weakness so every time she felt a little off, she would just brush it off and push through the rest of the day

but when she glances down at you and your pale, sweaty skin; she concludes that being sick isn't so weak if it's you going through it

#overwatch #overwatch x reader #junker queen #junker queen x reader #junker queen overwatch #odessa stone

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genderkoolaid · 2 years ago

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okay, so, i keep seeing this take come up a lot from non-trans men and non-trans mascs, and it’s making me a bit uncomfortable. for background, i’m a trans man that writes smut for trans mascs, trans men, and non-binary folks. i write in fandom spaces so this is a strictly fandom basis and not irl basis

more and more often i keep seeing non trans men and non trans mascs saying “if you think mpreg is gross you’re just transphobic” without nuance and when i explain “hey, this maybe isn’t a good take to have since there’s a LOT of reasons people may be grossed out by mpreg (eg. dysphoria, how heavily fetishized it is in fandom spaces by non-trans writers, how it’s used to fetishize trans m characters, the person grossed out may be a closeted trans man or trans masc or don’t realize that the “gross” feeling is dysphoria, etc.)”, i get shouted down and told that i’m wrong. and it’s kind of making me question my own line of thinking.

i guess, i’m just looking for some perspective from trans men and trans mascs on this topic? if there is any? bc i honestly can’t tell if i’m having a knee jerk reaction to my own personal experiences with fetishization. idk if you do much with fandom spaces, but i also don’t really know where else to get perspective

I think there's an important difference between different interpretations of "finding mpreg gross." One interpretation is male pregnancy being a squick for people as individuals for a variety of reasons, such as dysphoria. But in the context of systemic transandrophobia, "gross" is describing the idea that male pregnancy is an obscene, disturbing fetish akin to guro, something that is objectively abnormal and inappropriate.

The reason why "mpreg is gross" is transphobic is because its based in the idea that a pregnant man is unnatural and wrong, and that pregnant men can only exist as a "fucked up" sexual fetish. People are incapable of being normal about male pregnancy in any context and will compulsively go "EWW mpreg is so weird and fucked up!!! is this omegaverse!!!" even when talking about real men's experiences or desires. Male pregnancy is seen as a joke, a kink, or a crime against nature, but never something normal, natural, neutral.

Feeling dysphoria around pregnancy for yourself isn't transphobic, and people can write/depict male pregnancy in ways that are uncomfortable. Personally, I don't like how a lot of people's first thought when it comes to male pregnancy is cis men getting pregnant, with trans men- men who can and do actually get pregnant- are an afterthought. Its annoying to see posts joking about "getting a man pregnant" where people immediately jump to "cis male mpreg," distancing transmascs from our own bodies' abilities & replacing us in the cultural mind with cis men. I don't think cis male mpreg is inherently bad, but there are valid criticisms to be made.

And while you are just talking about fandom stuff, I don't think we should entirely separate this from the wider treatment of pregnant men- who are constantly dehumanized irl, treated like walking freaks (I was just reading an article the other day where a trans father talked about being called "it" throughout his pregnancy, and this is not uncommon), and having their gender validity heavily scrutinized for using their "female anatomy" even though they "want to be a man," sometimes even from other trans people. The way mpreg is treated in fandom spaces does very little to counter this narrative- if anything, in my experience, it just adds that "dirty" connotation, where pregnant men aren't just freaks, their pregnancy must be inherently sexual and should be kept out of public spaces. And this really does not help the idea that trans people are groomers who shouldn't be around children- I have also seen transphobes fearmonger about transmasc fathers & their children & whether or not the children will be safe, or be able to grow up properly, or if they'll be traumatized because of their father.

This is all to say: I don't know exactly the contexts you've heard "saying mpreg is gross is transphobic" in, but to me, arguing against "mpreg = gross" is a necessary part of dealing with the objectifying & dehumanizing way we see male pregnancy discussed in fandom spaces. Male pregnancy should be just the same as female pregnancy. Its normal, its natural. Some people have fetishes relating to it. Some people are really disturbed by the idea of it happening to them. & while there are unique brands of misogyny directed at pregnant women, the image of a pregnant woman isn't treated like something inherently dirty and obscene the same way a pregnant man is. People finding male pregnancy strange or gross- not because of dysphoria or personal preference, but out of transandrophobia- is the status quo right now, and its important to counteract this by normalizing male pregnancy as A Thing Some Men Do.

#m.#ask box #male pregnancy

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xticklemeemox · 3 days ago

Text

The Love You Want: III, Part Eighteen

Word count: 18,484

fun fact this would have been uhhhh 27,424 if i didnt cut out like three scenes and the smut that's probably happening next chapter (probably. we'll see.)

notice anything weird or a half finished sentence, PLEASE let me know and i will go to fix it as soon as i can. long chapters are hard to keep organized and edit ;-; I also don't really read back through the whole thing so i miss typos and inconsistencies sometimes.

Ao3

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

The vessels leave with Terzo and Omega the next morning, the Papa offering to drive them home. Vessel silently frets that it will be out of the way for them, but II accepts the offer easily enough. Omega stuffs his large frame into the driver's seat, Terzo slipping on a pair of sunglasses as he rolls his eyes and urges Cardinal Copia to return back to the main branch and inform Sister Imperator that, and Vessel quotes, "We'll be home within a day or so, she needs to untwist her undergarments and remove the stick from her ass."

III laughs into a closed fist when Copia flounders for a response, only quieting when II jabs him in the side, letting out a harsh 'oof!'.

Cetus, Nova, and Orion all see them off, all six of them, vessel and ghoul, masked. Orion remains a bit away, sparing only a sharp nod in Vessel's direction as they leave. Somehow, Vessel feels as if they've become acquaintances, at least, though he's sure Orion must still greatly dislike him. Vessel waves, a little meek, but trying to carry himself with the decorum Terzo seems to think he is capable of. Nova jabs Orion in the side, and he reluctantly waves back. Vessel smiles underneath his mask, then, leaning onto III where they're all shoved into the backseat, Vessel behind Omega, then III, and finally II behind Terzo. II had tried to sit in the middle, but Vessel had quickly moved to one corner so as to avoid touching II more than Vessel deemed allowed.

Their belongings are all shoved into the trunk, though they had little with them to begin with. Their clothes had long since been worn and traded out for spares, only for those to have needed washed and switched out for their original outfits. Cetus had seen to their washing, never once complaining or accepting the help Vessel quietly offered every time. It had been just another kindness afforded to them.

The car speakers play ABBA's discography at a moderately acceptable level the entire drive, Terzo and Omega both faintly humming along. II perks up when Voulez-Vous begins playing as they roll onto the gravel driveway of the Ministry branch, tapping out the beat on his thigh with one hand and holding III's hand with the other. It isn't long into the drive before II falls asleep, Slipping Through My Fingers being sung quietly by Terzo from the front seat. Vessel wants to ask him about the music Ghost makes, and resolves to pose the question to III at some point, leaning his head onto the blonde's shoulder. It's a bit of an uncomfortable stretch for his neck, but Vessel doesn't mind, not when III hums the songs into his hair between gentle kisses, more of a pressing of fabric to soft strands than actual kisses. Vessel sinks into the heady warmth of affection III's attention causes, gently pushing his love down the bond so as to not wake II by drowning him with it. The drive is long, and its glaringly obvious it's out of the way as the hours pass by and Omega asks for directions more and more, as things become unfamiliar to him.

With time, II's sleeping form starts sliding down, the movement bringing a spark of pain to the bond. It wakes him up, once or twice, sleepy eyes a bit unfocused from exhaustion. When Omega stops to get gas, III and II switch places. Even as a fully grown man, despite his shorter than average stature, II manages to curl up in the backseat with some difficulty, feet and legs bunched up on III's lap while his head and some of his torso are in Vessel's. Slipping off his hoodie is done without much thought, folding it up for II to use as a pillow. He falls asleep again before Omega gets back into the car, Terzo watching through the rearview mirror with fondness hidden beneath his sunglasses. Gnawing at his lip nervously, fearing for his secret or fearing II's closeness after Vessel hurt him, he rests an arm around II's frame, thumb stroking over a palm as he holds II's hand. III snapping a picture from the opposite end of the car goes unnoticed, one hand moving back to hold II's ankle.

The trees part for the Ministry car at Vessel's will, but they don't get far onto the dirt road before Omega is forced to stop. The rotting stag stands at the side of the road, large frame stagnant and head tilted curiously. Vessel rolls down the window, motioning the stag forward. Sleep's presence can be felt faintly, curiously poking at the edges of their awareness as if to make sure they're all alright. He doesn't speak, magic feeling sluggish and faint, but relieved perhaps, guilty if Vessel dared to think about it any further.

"It's here again!" III whispers, leaning over II slightly to get a better view of the stag.

"Mm. I don't think it likes visitors, or for us to leave for long periods." Vessel replies softly, letting the stag sniff at his fingers.

He must smell different after so long in another God's domain, not to mention he is still glamored. The stag reaches down to nibble at a coin on his necklace, antlers keeping it from moving it's head too far into the car. Sensing what it wants, Vessel glances up towards the front seat before slipping his necklace off. His mask is still on, thankfully, but the rest of him can be seen. Pitch black arms, golden cracks almost like veins, marred only by grey scarring just a few shades lighter than the black of his skin, the ink reaching up towards his shoulder where hints of an apple tree's blossoms peek over. He truly looks like a vessel for a God, Sleep's marks seen by so few.

The red sigil on the hollow of his throat, bared by the stretched out collar of his t-shirt, is in full view. Secretly, III longs to reach out and run a thumb over it, to see how Vessel reacts. II shuffles, beginning to wake, and III focuses on very quietly informing him of the situation as he sits up carefully. Whether knowing or unknowingly, he takes Vessel's hoodie with him, face half buried into the soft material, breathing in deeply with sleepiness like a loose net over the bond. He slumps over into III, wincing at the movement but uncaring so long as he can cuddle up to his lover. For the time being, II is uncaring of the displays of affection. It is only the vessels here, well, and Omega and Terzo. II doesn't think they would say anything rude though, observant eyes and a keen mind putting things together not long after he'd awoken from his long rest. One day, II hopes they can love each other freely.

The stag - and they really should come up with a name for it - turns it's head to level an empty stare at Omega, stomping it's foot and dragging it across the ground. Vessel knows what it wants immediately. He looks between the stag and Omega, nervously weighing his options. Ultimately, he decides to just ask. Omega can always just... tell him no, right? He thinks that would be II's opinion on the matter.

"Your glamor, Omega... the stag needs to see you as you truly are." Vessel speaks up, voice breaking with his nerves, only one pair of eyes blinks, the others closed more out of uncertainty than anything else.

Omega turns to share a loaded look with Terzo before the Papa gives the go-ahead, quiet and encouraging, "You can remove your mask, and let your glamor go. This is nowhere near the ministry."

Omega's voice is a low rumble, a trace of fear, of hesitancy within, "Are you sure, Papa? I will not be the only one affected should Sister Imperator find out about... well, any of this. About us. She hates you and we both have rules we must follow."

"Sister Imperator is not here, my dear, there is no one who knows her, nor will tell her if we asked them not to, right boys?" Terzo's voice is loving, metaphorical mask slipping off easily once he receives a quiet chorus of agreements.

Taking a moment to contemplate, Omega eventually reaches one hand up to slip his mask off his face, simultaneously letting his glamor fall away in a soft shower of glittering purple magic. He hunches over further so the sharp point of his horns, that start at his skull and begin sweeping back before jutting up into points aimed at the heavens, do not tear into the fabric over the ceiling of the car. After a moment, they disappear again out of necessity, but the way the rich purple color, almost as dark as his hair, had glittered with tiny amethyst-like cracks and sparkles, was captivating. His skin was a cloudy grey color, and where a human would be colored pink with a blush or naturally warmer tones, his skin was a murky purple, as though fading berry stains lay upon his flesh.

He was a magnificent creature, something clearly God-made as the vessels were, but with Lucifer as his maker. There were similarities, though, like the black sclera and, painted claws that were more impressive than Vessel's own.

"There you are, my love." Terzo murmurs, open affection being shown as he takes the dull silver mask from Omega's hands, setting it in his own lap.

Omega's tail slowly slithers through the air to wrap over the top of Terzo's thigh in lieu of an answer, resting there, spade end flicking now and again in a very cat-like manner. It makes Vessel miss Elvira, greatly. He cannot wait to be home, to see her.

Turning away from them to give them some amount of privacy, Vessel sets his attention back onto the stag.

"Have things been well while we were gone?" Vessel asks quietly, the stag snorting in response, air leaving the bones as if it were a creature not rotted beyond being able to perform that action.

"I choose to be optimistic and consider that a yes!" III chirps, smiling as they reach a long arm out.

The stag sticks its large snout into the car window as far as it can go, rubbing hard bone against soft flesh, III's smile contagious. He goes back to leaning against the car seat, patting the side of the stag's jaw once in farewell. The harsh scraping of antler against the metal of the car's exterior was not easy on their sensitive ears, after all.

"Drive slow, but don't linger in one place too long. It doesn't trust you and I don't think your Sister Imperator would be pleased if this car ends up with a dent." Vessel suggests, petting the stag's hard snout one last time, letting his hand fall back into his lap.

Terzo laughs, Omega huffing lowly as the stag backs away a few feet. Vessel tilts his head just slightly, confused. He hadn't been trying to tell a joke.

When Omega slowly begins driving again, the stag follows beside the car, easily keeping up. Terzo watches the stag curiously, turned in his seat to observe it, unbothered by the gore. He glances in the rearview mirror at Vessel every once in a while as if comparing them, sunglasses pushed up into his hair and exposing green and white eyes.

Omega stops the car not far from the house, letting the vessels get out and grab their meager belongings from the trunk.

"Would you two like to come in?" II offers, slightly breathless from the ache in his side, breathing in deeply and feeling the twinge of Sleep's - and Vessel's - presence in the air, their magic strong and ingrained into every inch of this forest.

"No, not this time, Two. Perhaps another time, when your God is not so eager to reunite with you and you're not injured. Go inside, rest, heal." Terzo declines, smile kind.

II nods, accepting the answer for what it is. Terzo reaches a hand out in offering, and II stares at it in confusion, exhausted brain lagging behind. After a moment, something seems to click and he reaches out to take Terzo's hand. He starts to shake it, but Terzo merely places his own hand overtop of II's, patting gently, a fatherly motion.

"May the Eye of the Evil One shine upon you." Terzo utters, something other in his voice as his eye glows.

II would compare it to wishing Sleep's own gaze be cast upon someone with good intentions in mind, a warmth settling at the base of his neck. Terzo releases II's hand and then beckons III forward, who is grinning.

"Three, my boy, I hope your time spent learning our ways was fruitful."

"It was, Terzo! It was a pleasure to meet you properly, despite the situation. Your religion is so interesting and rich in history. I've never had the chance to see the opposing viewpoint before. Not to mention all the different botanical and floriculture books stored there! I've learned of so many new flower species I'd never heard of before!"

"I'm glad it was a learning experience for you. If I come across any botany books, I will send them your way, if possible. My eldest brother Primo has always had a similar fascination. You and he would get along well." III is nodding eagerly, a teethy smile pulling uncomfortably at their cheeks.

"I would love that. Thank you! For everything, really."

Terzo repeats the prayer he said for II, and III's smile widens impossibly at the warmth traveling down his spine, an unfamiliar heat, "We don't really have any prayers or phrases. But... hm, worship. We all worship."

Terzo's grin matches the liveliness in III's eyes, "You're right, my boy, we both worship though our gods differ."

III pulls Terzo into a hug, tall frame leaned over into the car and wrapped around Terzo's similar build. From over III's shoulder, Terzo watches Vessel, brow furrowing as if in thought. Vessel wonders if he has noticed how Vessel never hugs his lovers. He hopes he doesn't ask.

When III pulls away, heading back to II's side and taking their bags from his capable but shaking hands, Terzo beckons Vessel forward. Afraid he is going to be pulled into a hug in front of his partners, Vessel goes slowly, unsure. Terzo only smiles encouragingly, a gloved hand taking Vessel's own. "You have come far from your rebirth, haven't you, Vessel? I'm proud of you for growing beyond the rot, for letting fragile life bloom within. You are a good man, as I've said, and in time, you will find that which you have sought, and it will be eternal."

Vessel's crimson eyes widen behind his mask, all six welling up with tears. Terzo seems so assured that Vessel will be happy ifgiven time for him to grow further.His selfish desire is to attain happiness, to keep it for eternity. To hoard the love granted to him like a possessive dragon with it's amassment of treasures, shove it into the empty cavity of his chest as a replacement for what he gave away to attain it. He's so tired of denying himself these things that he desires, and tired of watering the seeds of hope that his lovers have sown within him with gentle hands and kinder words.

He cannot deny that he has... changed, grown, since II's arrival, then III's. Sometimes, he doesn't recognize himself in the mirror when he can bring himself to gaze into it. Sleep has changed him, and he has changed himself further for the sake of his lovers, but his evolution is more than just physical. Vessel has always been afraid. To fear is such a human thing. Everyone is afraid. Though, with time, with their love, Vessel is finding some things to be less terrifying. For every step forward, it often feels like outside forces and his own mind drag him two steps back. But he is trying, he is trying so hard. He wants to be worthy of the love he receives.

"You are so kind to me, when I have done nothing to deserve it." Vessel whispers, blushing up to his ears when one pair of eyes glances over to find Omega smiling at him with no small amount of fondness.

What has he done to deserve these people smiling upon him so kindly? What has he ever done to deserve all of this? Not just this kindness, but II and III's? What did he do to deserve his God choosing him out of the entirety of the human race to be His First Vessel? He feels so unworthy of it all, but is too selfish to let any of it go.

"Kindness is a gift given regardless of merit. If I want to be kind to someone, then I will be. You do not need to be worthy of something like that, Vessel. It is okay to just give and receive kindness. The world is not an entirely cruel place. The worst people just so happen to have the loudest voices or the most money. You'll try to take this advice to heart, yes?" Terzo implores, careful of Vessel's claws as he still holds his hands.

The surge of emotions over the bond was unexpected, a rush of respect, of affection. Terzo reminds Vessel of what a father figure should be like. He doesn't know what to do with that realization. All he knows is that he wants to soak up the feeling like a sponge, bask in what he knows he was rarely given by his own parents. They did not respect him, barely even paid him any mind lest it was to make sure he stayed trapped in that house like a prisoner. The only thing they ever gave him was music, the ability to understand it, play it, to sing to his fullest potential. He thinks that gift was due to how it kept him at home when he wasn't being taught by differing instrumental teachers, absorbed in this new world music offered him. His parents were never proud of him, but it felt like the closest thing to it and so Vessel had grasped onto their not-approval tight with bloody, callousing fingers and a heart made for music.

It's a cluster of good memories Sleep brought to the surface after being remade, to rekindle his love for music, since their worship was music based.

"Yes, sir. I will." Vessel agrees, willing to try, if only so he can feel this rush again.

"Good, my boy." Terzo smiles, squeezing Vessel's hands with gentleness that has only ever been afforded to him by II and III.

When he repeats the same prayer of Lucifer's blessing unto Vessel, he tries his best to murmur along, following III's lead and adding on his own, "Worship."

The word feels weighted, almost like a proper prayer. A touch of Sleep lies within it, and Vessel thinks it could very well become a prayer for the vessels. What matters is intent, anyways. The surprisingly tender moment comes and goes with the passing of time, and soon enough, Terzo is seated properly in the car again, one hand wrapped tightly in Omega's. Vessel's hands have the faintest tingle of warmth, likely his mind tricking him into thinking some of Terzo's heat seeped through his gloves into Vessel's cold flesh again.

"Thank you for trusting us with your true self, Omega. I know it was not an easy decision." Vessel stresses, reaching up and removing his own mask with a bit of thought and a splash of magic.

Six eyes blink unsurely, fearing that even to a creature of Hell he is ugly, but Omega merely reiterates the sentiment back at Vessel with nothing but kindness and acceptance. A mimicry of warmth settles into Vessel's bones, spreading through him like heat from an open fire, settling there in the empty cavity of his chest. He smiles, vision going a little fuzzy as his bottom eyes scrunch with the movement of his cheeks. His empty chest, filled with vines and thorns left behind by those who hurt him, feels a little less heavy, like some of the vines have been clipped or rotted away. No, maybe not the vines themselves, but the thorns attached that have dug in, sliced him up from the inside out for as long as Vessel can remember.

Soon enough, Omega is pulling away when II waves them off with a heartfelt thank you and instructions not to stop until they're out of the territory. Terzo calls out through the open window as they drive off, instructing Vessel to keep in touch, slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes leisurely. His skull paint remains immaculate, head tilted towards the window to follow the stag as it, too, begins to walk along the road. It will be seeing them out, it seems. III helps II inside, nervous hands fluttering about as if to catch II should he stumble or fall, though II only spares him a fond, bemused sigh as he tells Vessel to go on to bed. Despite the injury still causing pain, II is able to walk without much difficulty, beelining for the kitchen to make a mug of tea, grumbling about the mess everywhere. III follows, and Vessel longs to do the same. He doesn't deserve to be near them, though, not after the mess he caused. He turns away from them once they're out of his direct line of sight.

"Three?" II asks quietly once he's sure Vessel is out of earshot, carefully setting his favorite mug down onto the counter with shaking hands.

"Yes, Doll?" III hums, busying himself with sweeping up the shattered remains of some of their spare mugs.

"The knives in the sink-" II starts, voice faint, and III turns quickly.

They'd forgotten-

"He didn't hurt himself!" III rushes out, widened eyes almost begging II to remain calm and not jump to conclusions, "He used them to kill Hate and it's minions. The blood isn't his, the creatures just... kept reforming."

II leans over onto the counter, cradling his head in his hands and sucking in deep, relieved breaths through the pain. "Okay. Okay, I trust you and what you say. I just- I saw them and thought-"

"You thought he'd hurt himself again, I know. I thought the same when I saw the knife block was empty. He used his telekinesis to float them back in from the living room. He's been doing well, aside from some hiccups when you got hurt." III explains, understanding thrumming gently down the bond, going back to sweeping.

He's only at it long enough to sweep up a small pile before a pained whine has him turning around, panicked.

"Can you- I can't reach my jar of apple tea leaves..." II laments, head pillowed in his arms on the counter.

"I'll get it! I'm sorry, I didn't even think-" III is nodding before II has even finished speaking, setting the broom aside to make his way to II.

As they're pulling the labeled jar of tea from one of the higher shelves of the cupboard above the counter, II snaps, ashamed, "Don't you dare apologize."

He finally lifts his head as III sets the jar on the counter, righting his position slowly and then turning to pull III into a hug. He tries first to hug as he always does, arms around shoulders, balanced on his tippy toes to reach properly so he can thread a hand into III's hair or cup his nape, caress a hand down their spine. The movement of lifting his arms sends pain through his system, just like mere moments ago, pulling a gasping moan of frustration. His hands fist into the back of III's shirt, clutching at them desperately as II gives in to his body's protests and just wraps his arms around III's middle. Frustration bleeds freely throughout their bond, relief and fear alongside it. II melts into the hug when III wraps their arms around him with no hesitation, pulling him tightly to their body so there is little space between them.

"I do not like feeling weak, and ever since Hate invaded our home, it is all I have felt. Waking up after all of that, knowing when I lost consciousness that you both were safe but it wasn't because of anything I'd done... knowing how scared you both must have been because I could not-"

"What, II? Fight off a God? One intent on playing with us like we were nothing more than insects. Having it's freaky little minions attack us and reform, over and over and over again? Hate wore you down and only then did it actually come after you, only then did it take you down. You fought hard, you held your own." III rests his head overtop II's, pushing love and reassurance down the bond, "It wanted us to devote ourselves to it, and when we wouldn't, it went for Ves. What a foolish God, to think they could sway Vessel from Sleep. Or us from Vessel."

"You're right. I know you're right, I just- Knowing something and accepting it when it hurts is difficult. Shit, Three, I haven't been awake with this injury more than a couple days and already I am sick and tired of how it hinders me. I can't even pull my fucking tea jars off the shelf. Every movement hurts, pulls on my side and sends... fire through my veins." II explains, something fragile in his voice that III has never heard before.

"I- I still remember the heat, the way I burned." It is an admission that sends ice through III's heart, cradling II to their chest as though the smaller man will splinter apart and shatter completely.

III knows II won't, far too strong willed to ever truly break apart, but the fear of it and the willingness to hold him together has III trying to pull him impossibly closer anyways. A small wet spot grows on their shirt, a faint sniffle from II follows what III says next, "You don't have to be strong all of the time, Doll. I'll love you either way, and so will Vessel. I want you to rely on me as much as we rely on you."

II doesn't say anything in response, knowing and hating that he can't promise such a simple thing. To even have admitted this much is instilling a sense of wrongness within him. He needs to be able to take care of the others and if he can't do that, then what use will Sleep have of him?

II knows well of his God's dislike for him. The love is there, but to a God, is that even a blip on His radar in comparison to His desires? III had gotten away with reprimanding Sleep for keeping Vessel awake for so long and then demanding He fix it, but they were still punished. If II were to say everything he wanted to, demand answers to every question that festered in his mind, what would Sleep do? Erase him, no doubt. And II doesn't want to leave III and Vessel. So he toes the line of insubordination, but does not cross it entirely for fear of the repercussions.

"Let's get your tea made, hm?" III offers, reaching up for a mug from within one of the lower cabinets.

II remains pressed to his side, surely making movement more difficult for III but neither one release each other. It makes II ache for Vessel, though, suddenly missing how Vessel follows him around in the kitchen like a particularly clingy puppy. It takes a bit more time than normal, but eventually II has a steaming mug of apple tea being pressed into his hands, III smiling gently. The heat startles him, staring into the steaming liquid as if it will jump out and burn his face. It's a ridiculous thought but II...

"Do we have any ice?" II asks quietly, unable to look up and meet III's searching gaze, setting the mug back on the counter with hands that tremble faintly.

"Yeah, we should, Doll." III comments, already turning towards their fridge and its connected freezer.

II is thankful III doesn't ask, he's not sure he could answer with a level voice. III plops a few pieces of ice cubes into the mug, sticking it in the fridge for a few minutes to speed along the cool down process. As they wait, III pulls II into another hug, leaning their weight down onto II and humming into his hair. II closes his eyes, arms around III's waist and head leant against his chest, listening to the comforting thump!thump!thump of their heart in his ear. III leaves long enough to grab the mug from the fridge once a decent amount of time has passed, handing the mug to II who takes it with shaking hands. The tea is cold when II takes a sip, and at first, his face scrunches up. It is not exactly displeasure that shivers down his spine, but the taste of cold tea is definitely something he will have to get used to. III holds him from behind after that, broom forgotten as II slowly sips at his tea and focuses on calming down the tremors wracking through his frame. III is warm behind him, arms wrapped loosely around II's waist with his cheek smushed against the top of II's head. It makes II feel small, in a good way. Protected instead of ruled over.

Sometime soon they will have to speak about the form III had taken, but for now II just wants to enjoy this. Enjoy being home in their ransacked house, with the ivy creeping along the walls, and III's garden outside. Where they are safe, as safe as they can be as vessels of a God.

Vessel's feet weigh him down as he climbs the staircase and enters his room, Elvira meowing happily as she shadows him. When II's panic lances down the bond, Vessel turns back, nearly back on the landing between the first and second floor when III shoves reassurance down the bond. Vessel hesitates on the first step down the landing, vines brushing gently along his arm in greeting, straining his ears to hear what II and III are speaking about quietly in the kitchen. After a moment, he decides that things truly are under control and starts towards his room again. He forgets to close the door (he should have closed the door- why didn't he-) as he crawls into bed in the middle of the day, not even bothering to change into pajamas. He closes his eyes after setting his mask on his nightstand, shivering underneath a blanket he pulls over himself. Elvira curls up at his head in a little ball, big eyes staring up at him. Vessel feels a swell of affection for her, so happy to see her again, and yet...

He is cold.

Vessel rises, grabs another blanket to cover himself in, and lays back down. Elvira meows, batting at his hair with soft paws. Petting her is done with shaking hands, little mrrphs and purrs rumbling through her chest that causes Vessel's lips to twitch up into a weak smile.

He is still cold.

Does he even remember what it was like to be warm? Truly warm?

Terzo immediately comes to mind, the warmth of his hands holding Vessel's, the way his arms wrapped around him and kept him close. Vessel wants that with II and III, he wants to be warmed by their natural body heat, to feel their hearts beat against his own still chest. He does not want the warmth of heavy fabric, he wants the warmth of a gentle touch. Vessel wants to be held, craves it desperately. He has seen II and III hug, how tightly III wraps II up in their arms, sometimes lifting him off his feet just to get a playful scowl in return. How II would move his arms from around III's shoulders, grab him by the waist, and swing him around as if III was as light as a feather, always so gentle when placing them back on their feet. Vessel... he wanted that. He wanted them to hold him in their own special ways. Would III try to lift him off his feet? Would they pull him close, press kisses into Vessel's hair? Would II get up on his toes so the angle isn't so awkward as he hugs Vessel around his shoulders? Pull him down into a kiss that sends a thread of adoration down the bond, warm like the gentle rays of the sun on a spring day?

Vessel runs a thumb under his eyes, swiping away gathered tears as they start to slip down his cheeks and into his hair. He wants that. He wants to be held.

Would Terzo let Vessel hug him next time they meet? Would that be an acceptable greeting as acquaintances?

He gets up again, grabbing a third blanket from over his desk chair, a thick blue one with simple white fish on it. The blankets are heavy when he spreads them over himself, curling around Elvira when she decides she has had enough of him moving around and lays half stretched out over his side in an unusual position. Still, he shivers and shakes, hands shoved under the pillow his head lays upon in some attempt to warm them.

Sleep claims him slowly with heavy eyes and then all at once while Elvira purrs cuddled up to his chest. He opens six eyes to Sleep's forest.

He's running, stumbling over roots and shoving past low hanging branches that scratch against the soft skin of his face. Bare feet squish into mud that slows him down as Vessel frantically follows the whispers of the trees around him, leading him to his lovers with a phantom hand pulling tight on the bond they share.

He has to find II and III, quickly.

A root lifts, and Vessel trips. He goes rolling as his forward momentum works against him. It should hurt, and his mind registers pain, but his body doesn't feel it. That should have indicated something was off, but Vessel can't think straight. Not when II and III are in danger, they're hurt, they're going to die- leave him all alone- please-

A quiet whimper of pain falls on Vessel's pointed ears, and he looks up, hunched over form bent into itself.

II lays a few feet away, weak hands struggling to free himself from where he is pinned to the forest floor. Vessel cries out, but no sound leaves him. Crawling desperately to his side, Vessel takes II's hands in his, pulling them from the solidified blood in his side almost too roughly. II screams, the sound echoing in Vessel's ears and II tries to wiggle away.

'Don't.' Vessel mouths, 'You'll bleed out.'

"You didn't come back for me? Why Ves? Why didn't you come back for me?" No more than a whimper of pain, II's words send a dagger through Vessel's empty chest.

'I tried! I tried, I swear!' Vessel wants to shout, wants to beg II to understand. 'Sleep took then kept me. I couldn't. I tried, Two, I tried. I'm so sorry-'

"You left us to die." II accuses, bloody lip curling up into a sneer as he coughs weakly.

Vessel sobs, shaking his head, cradling II's face ever so gently in his large hands.

'I would never.' Vessel mouths, hoping II will understand him. If the only limb Vessel had left were his arms, he'd still find his way back to them, digging broken, bloody nails into the ground and pulling a mangled body behind. If he had no eyes, he would still know each of their breathing, the sound of their steps, the exact cadence of their voices. Were he deaf, Vessel would know the feeling of their skin on his, their lips against his own. He would remember it all, in every lifetime, and no God would ever tear those memories from him.

Something tickles the back of his mind, like a realization, or the lead up to one, something right on the edge of his awareness, but it is plucked out before he can grasp ahold of it.

Vessel moves to try and lift II, but his hands go right through. II remains pinned, no matter where Vessel tries to lift him, and he lets out a weak cry of frustration, fresh tears bubbling over as he returns his hands to II's face, tracing over pale cheeks tenderly. He can touch him, hold him, but he cannot lift him. Cannot save him.

Vessel is forced to watch, to wait, to listen as II's life slips through his fingers, as black blood boils him from the inside and the god of Hate takes the first of the two most important people in Vessel's life. Time passes at once slowly, and so fast he cannot keep track of it. It could be hours, seconds, and Vessel would still only know the time through each breath that II takes, slower and slower, gasping, weak.

"You don't really love, Vessel, you just hate to be alone." II murmurs, icy blue eyes, once so warm with his love, beginning to crack into shards, freezing Vessel from within as he is trapped in his gaze.

The lyric, a truth, a fear close to Vessel's heart and soul, uttered by someone Vessel adores with every inch of his being, is like ripping his heart out all over again. To have it spit back in his face like this is a pain he would wish on no one, yet feels as if he deserves.

As II's breathing slows, stuttering in his chest, Vessel watches the light slowly leave his eyes, frozen in place and helpless. He waits, dead eyes boring into II's pretty blues, filled with ice, for death to claim his lover so that he can follow. There is only one final thing II can manage to utter, leaving Vessel feeling as if his world has fallen apart around him, burying him beneath rubble and shattering his bones, his soul.

"You should have let Hate kill you." The light starts to leave his eyes, and before that final star winks out, Vessel wakes, choking on a sob.

He trembles, struggling to escape from whatever is holding him down. Scrambling out of bed and hitting his floor, Vessel whines, partially at the pain, and partially at the dream he can't get out of his head. He crawls away, frantic, curling into himself against his nightstand that he slams into. The lamp rattles, but doesn't tip over as he paws blindly at the surface of the nightstand for his mask. He knocks it off instead of grabbing it, coordination off as he panics. It thuds against the floor, the bone white material making a loud clattering sound. Vessel doesn't even notice, giving up on that endeavor quickly. The confusion, the terror, the panic, causes Vessel to instinctually shut his part of the bond off.

The noise wakes II, the pain of his healing injury leaving him sleeping lighter than he is used to. He and III had crawled into bed with Vessel quietly, carefully, III bringing their own blanket and covering both he and II up with it after they squeezed in to the other side of the bed beside Vessel. The First did not stir, barely even moved as II and III got situated. His door was left cracked, an open invitation, and so they took it. Why wouldn't they have?

The immediate feeling of emptiness in the bond has II sitting up hastily in concern, knocking the breath out of his lungs as a pained whimper follows. For a few tense seconds, II has to struggle to catch his breath, still not quite sure what's going on. Sensitive ears soon catch the faint sound of sniffling and heavy breaths, tired eyes finding Vessel quickly.

Vessel is curled up into himself, leaned against his nightstand and facing away from the bed. His clothed shoulders shake, crying silently. Claws flex against his side, desperate to dig in, to rip and tear and maim-

"Ves, love, are you okay?" II asks, slipping out of bed carefully, shoving aside the minor pain the action still causes.

"Ves?" II tries again when he receives no answer but a shaky sob, the tail end silenced quickly.

"Don't touch me. Don't- I don't deserve your comfort-! It's all my fault. Almost killed you. Almost lost you. Almost lost you." Familiar with how Vessel falls into repeating phrases when he's upset, II kneels next to him, a hand hanging midair from where II automatically obeyed Vessel's command.

"Sweetheart, it wasn't your fault. We knew a god could attack at any time, we just weren't prepared." II reassures, frowning when Vessel only shakes his head in dismissal, still turned away.

The bond is not as devoid of life as II thought, but it's nearly completely hidden away. Vessel is keeping to his promise by a hair's breadth.

"No, no, no- You hate me. You hate me. Its all my fault, and neither of you will tell me so."

"I don't hate you, Vessel." II shoves as much love and devotion into his words as he can, but knows by the way Vessel's bond grows clearer, but only with more distress, that nothing he says will get through to him.

"Don't lie to me!" Vessel snaps, turning his head so II can finally see him, hands coming up to claw at his own face as he tries to hide behind his hands, "Don't you lie to me!"

There's a faint glow to his pupiless, red eyes, making it obvious that magic is at work here. Whether Vessel has any control over it is unclear.

"I am not lying." II almost snaps back in his sudden influx of worry, afraid Vessel will hurt himself, only iron will and his complete adoration of Vessel leaves his words softened.

Vessel flinches back anyways, dragging his nails down and leaving the faintest of red lines down his cheeks. He barely misses his bottom pair of eyes, but doesn't seem to care. Tiny droplets of red and black bead at the lines he's created, sliding slowly down his cheeks. II wants to reach out and wipe them away, tear Vessel's claws away from his face. He knows the action is likely to do more harm than good despite his best intentions and so he tries to calm him, think rationally about this. Vessel trembles, and not just with the cries he keeps quiet. II grabs the blue blanket from the pile spilling over the side of the bed, clearly having gone down with Vessel. It strikes him as odd. Vessel usually wears a shirt, yes, or even his hoodie, and while he runs cold, there is never any indication that he really was, no shiver down his spine, no chatter to his teeth. He has always explained the clothes as more of a comfort than a need due to a lower temperature. How cold was Vessel to have piled at least three or four blankets on himself?

"I should have let Hate do what it was here for. You were right. I- I shouldn't be-" Vessel mumbles, eyes a bit unfocused, like he's still caught in his nightmare, a fly in a web waiting for death to claim him.

Not letting his confusion at Vessel's words shine through his expression, II tries to slowly inch his way closer, socked feet helping him scoot across the flooring quieter. He remains a couple inches away, but reaches out again to attempt to pull Vessel's hands away from his face.

"Honey, let me just hold your-"

"No! I'll hurt you again- Don't touch me- Don't-" Sobs break Vessel's words into fractions, breaking II's heart with every syllable, "You already hate me, I don't want you to leave if I fuck up again. I'll hurt you and you'll leave. You'll leave, and Three will follow. I'll be alone. I don't want to be alone- Not again- I won't live like that again-!"

Sucking in a shuddering gasp, shock freezes II's face into an expression of horror. There's a sudden buzzing in II's skull, growing louder and louder around the echo of 'I won't live like that again.'

'I won't live like that again.'

'I won't live-'

II shakes his head, desperate to rid himself of that train of thought. Vessel self-harms, yes, but that does not mean he is also suicidal. Vessel wouldn't- He wouldn't.

"No, sweetheart, it's not your fault. I didn't get hurt because of you-"

"It is my fault! Of course it's my fault, why would you think that it isn't-" Vessel cries, six leaking eyes sliding up to pin II in place, the confusion and the heartbreak almost too much for II to bear.

Frantically, II stands. He moves too fast, Vessel flinching back, hands flexing to cover his face. More tears slide down II's jaw, and he takes a moment to rub both hands down his face, swiping away his tears resolutely. He turns to III, who has managed to sleep through the whole ordeal so far, and tries to wake him, not without guilt. Everyone is still exhausted, Vessel's bond filled with it alongside the ever present self-loathing and the fear.

"Three." II shakes the other man's shoulder, trying not to let any more tears fall, "Three, wake up, please."

III mumbles something incoherent, the bond slowly losing the fuzz of sleep, but eventually sits up, rubbing his tired eyes to try and focus. They clear quickly once the distress in the bond becomes apparent, going wide as their brain lags behind. Everyone was so tired when they got back home, and it was no different for III, who can barely think through their exhaustion.

"Three, I need you to hold Vessel for me." II can't quite keep his voice from breaking, looking between Vessel and III helplessly.

"He won't let me touch him." II whispers, a few traitorous tears breaking free.

Not trusting themselves to not slur or say the wrong thing, III nods shortly, moving to stand. Their bones protest the movement, but they ignore it in favor of crouching down beside Vessel who barely notices him. Gentle hands pull Vessel's claws from his cheeks, leading to Vessel finally taking a good look at III in front of him. A nail drives itself right into II's heart, a valiant effort being made to not let hurt bleed out into the bond despite how much it pains II to see Vessel letting III touch him so freely right now.

"Hey, pretty, what's wrong? Did something happen?" III keeps his voice low, aiming to pacify the terrified frenzy Vessel is in.

"Two hates me. Didn't go back for him. He hates me because I left him-"

"Oh no, hun, Two doesn't hate you. You came back for us, remember? Defeated a God just to make your way back to our sides?" III soothes, trying to spark the memories.

"He- He was bleeding out, wasn't he? He was- I saw it. He was all alone, Hate must have hurt you, too."

Vessel is clearly confused, the lack of sleep and the continuous stress finally catching up to him. III knew the crash would happen at some point once Vessel finally let himself sleep, but they couldn't have predicted this, didn't even want to imagine how terrifying it would be for Vessel, and seeing just how much worse it is in reality. He knew Vessel was taking II injury hard over the course of their stay at the ministry, he knew. But nothing III said or did ever amounted to more than minorly lessening that strain. Nothing they did truly helped, and now it's all crashing down on Vessel at once, it seems. If Vessel had slept at all while at the ministry, III is sure the nightmares would have swamped him then.

"That was just a dream, Sugar, we kept the object in Two so he wouldn't bleed out, remember? I was right there next to him the whole time, uninjured, even after you got there. We got Two help and he's fine now." III hopes his words will jog Vessel's memory, and those hopes aren't unfounded as some of the confusion seeps out of the bond.

"He... He is fine, now." Vessel murmurs, finally allowing himself to properly look at II, six eyes roaming over his form, catching on the tears II keeps wiping away, "You're both... alright."

The fogginess of sleep seems to finally clear from the bond, releasing Vessel fully from his dream. II hands over the blanket, III taking it from him and wrapping it around Vessel until a solid layer is between them. Only then does III pull Vessel to their chest, arms wrapping completely around him in a hug that offers none of the loving warmth of such. His fear and concern makes way for fondness as Vessel visibly sinks into the welcome warmth. Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, II lets the last of his fear slide away, gathering himself. His side aches something fierce, ignored in favor of trying to help Vessel, but it will not be so easily brushed aside now.

III pulls him impossibly closer, gently shushing quiet whimpers and heavy breaths as Vessel sobs. II watches, helpless, longing to wrap both of his lovers up in a hug, to smother them in his affection and shelter them from their pains and fears. Where before Vessel would immediately shut down his cries, desperate to not be heard, now he does not falter in the agonizing sounds spilling forth as he apologizes profusely as if there was anything to be sorry for at all.

"I'm sorry." Vessel cries, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Two, I didn't mean to hurt- I failed you. I couldn't protect either one of you-"

The apologies eventually taper off, a slow trickle down from sobbing to crying to mere sniffles. At some point, III has them all moved to the bed, leant against the headboard closest to the wall with Vessel practically in his lap, all four of his blankets laid over him carefully. II sits at his other side, nearest the nightstand, hesitant to lay down and rest no matter how his body and mind begs for it.

"I made you cry again." Vessel says weakly, so quiet II almost didn't hear him.

More gold gathers in Vessel's eyelashes, slipping over his cheekbone and onto the plush material of his jellyfish plushie that III hands him, eyes no longer glowing. "It's alright, Ves, it's good to cry sometimes." II hushes, aiming for a smile that falls flat despite his best efforts.

"Not... not like that... You look so-" Vessel cannot even finish.

"All I ever do is cry." He whimpers, reaching up to try and wipe away tears that just keep flowing.

"That just means you feel, love. You have a big heart, and you feel strongly. There isn't anything wrong with that." II says, offering up his hand.

Vessel stares for what feels like a long, long time, biting at his lip and peeling up the chapped skin. Then, he takes it, with no small amount of hesitancy. A thumb seeks out II's pulse point, and II just lets it happen, understanding it is a necessary comfort Vessel needs right now. The silence that follows is punctuated only by the breaths still hitching in Vessel's chest and the purring Elvira has kicked up at their feet. Time passes, and somehow II thinks they need this. Not Vessel's nightmare, no, but the time to just be with each other, alone in their home, finally.

Eventually, light filters in through Vessel's window around the edges of his blackout curtains, indicating it must be early morning. II sighs, rubbing a hand heavily over his face. Vessel had finally fallen back to sleep just a few minutes prior, curled up under a mound of blankets as small as he can manage with his tall frame. III is asleep, too, leant against the headboard with Vessel practically in his lap, a hand still weaved in his hair from where they were comforting the First. II stares at them, just taking his lovers in, then moves to stand. His side pulls, bringing pain with it, but he does his best to move past it, gritting his teeth. Elvira meows from the end of the bed, big eyes watching every move II makes. II pets her, smiling as she shoves her head up into his palm. With some regret, he does leave her eventually, softly ordering her to keep an eye on his boys. She meows in agreement as if she understood, and then II is exiting Vessel's room.

II has a God to speak with, after all.

The altar room is dark when he enters, but his improved eyesight that allows him to see in the dark makes getting around easier. He suspects his vision is no where near III's, nor even Vessel's, but he can see well enough. The room is untouched by the whirlwind that swept through the rest of the house, everything as they left it before II got injured. It brings him pause, curious eyes sweeping across the room. Vines cover every inch of the walls, all congregated around the rune etched into the wall, still dripping crimson. His heartbeat pounds in his ears as II walks forward, picking up the matches resting beside the golden offering plate. II lights the candles one by one, leaving only the centermost candle untouched for Sleep. When he is done, he sits back on his haunches with a pained gasp, and waits. It isn't long before Sleep arrives, the flickering golden flame casting the room in a shimmering gold glow.

Sleep does not speak, so II takes the chance.

"Take those nightmares away from him. I know you can."

"I cannot see his dreams anymore, my Second, let alone take them from him, now. I believe he is blocking me out, subconsciously." Sleep whispers, or, as close to a whisper as His many voices can, "He is gaining control over his dreams, becoming more than I ever intended. I gave him too much but if I hadn't..."

"You are a God, what do you mean you can't-" II spits, frustrated, hands clenching into fists in his lap.

"I cannot do it, Second. He is... He is becoming like me, my gifts are becoming his own and he is gaining his own power. I cannot take his nightmares from him for they are apart of his own domain, now."

II's brow furrows, confusion warring with creeping understanding. "Is- Is Vessel becoming a God?"

Suddenly, a lot of things make a whole lot of sense. It all started with his new sets of eyes, the forked tongue, scrawling golden cracks on the ink black of his skin, and now the silvery white hair... Each time he took more of Sleep's power, divine power, for his own use, Vessel would change. He is turning himself into a God for them, sacrificing his humanity.

"Not quite a God, no. He is approaching what could be considered a halfway point, and it is unlikely he will overcome that."

"What, like a demigod from myth? Does Vessel even know about this?" II's mouth falls into a flat, pale line, unease swirling in his stomach.

It would be just like Vessel to become a demigod for their sakes. No, not even just for their sakes. If Sleep had chosen some other people to be His vessels, if they were even half as nice- If they treated Vessel with even a shred of human decency, II is sure Vessel would do as he does now. Though, if II really thinks about it, it is not a matter of how kind they have been, but of how strongly Vessel's love for them runs. Had II ended up treating Vessel like his past partners had, if love had still bloomed in Vessel's heart because painful love was all he knew, then Vessel would still have done the exact same thing. It was in his nature to be gentle and kind, and... well, he is far too self-sacrificial for his own good.

Sleep responds, "I suppose a demigod would be an accurate title, and yes, I have told him of his growing divinity. My Second, I know my word means little to you, but believe me this once, if I could spare my First the pain of these apparitions, I would have. I wanted to take everything from him, when I first remade him, but there was so much damage to his... So many terrible memories and so few good, he would have been nothing but an empty shell. Some gods prefer that of their vessels. I do not."

"Sometimes, I wonder if that would have been better for him. I would have helped him, loved him, regardless. I can't speak for Three, but I'm sure he feels the same."

Sleep does not respond, but His presence, which had been faint and centered in the crimson candle, settles like a crown on II's head. In the next moment, the pain he had been feeling is gone. Something tells him it is only temporary, but there is no chance to ask for Sleep leaves, all of the candles going out with Him.

II is left staring at the sigil on the wall, at the paint perpetually dripping off of the lines of the rune. His heart still races, and only when II stands and leaves the altar room does the pounding leave his ears.

Once III and Vessel wake up, closer to evening, they find that II has begun cleanup on the house. The mess in the kitchen is swept up, the knives clean and put back in their rightful spots in the knife block. Vessel follows behind III, a hand clutching at the back of his shirt as the bond leads them towards the living room. Books are still strewn about where the creatures had carelessly tossed them, II sitting on the floor around a multitude of stacks that he is actively sorting. The tv is on, playing one of the Lord of the Rings movies at a low, unobtrusive volume. III goes to help without a second thought, Vessel following.

II turns and smiles up at them as they make their way over, offering up a soft greeting. He looks exhausted, guilt making a home in Vessel's gut at the sight of the bags under his eyes, thankful the emotion won't be visible on his face at least, thanks to his mask. Vessel wraps the blanket tighter around his shoulders, shivering where he lingers at the edge of the couch. A glance down at it shows blood and faint burn marks in the material, and Vessel feels suddenly nauseous.

"I've got this, you two, why don't you go check on your garden, Three? I'm sure Vessel wouldn't mind the fresh air." II suggests, but it comes across as more of a command.

"Sure, Doll, I was planning on doing so anyways! Come on, Ves, let's head outside." III agrees, smile widening, well aware of what II is doing and thinking it's a good plan.

"Just let me change into some outdoor clothes, be right back." III calls, already bounding off and up the staircase.

Vessel stares after him with something close to panic beneath his mask, fingers fumbling together nervously. II hates to see him so unsure of himself in their own home, as if Vessel had done something wrong or did not think he deserved to take up space. Or was it something II did?

"Are you going to go change as well?" II asks, taking in Vessel's rumpled clothes, which are the same as when they got home the day prior.

Vessel slowly shakes his head side to side instead of answering verbally, not meeting II's gaze from under his mask. It causes II to frown, hurt but not sure what is wrong. Quick as a lightning flash, III takes the stairs two at a time as he returns to the living room, sporting a t-shirt and a faded pair of blue jeans. It's one of the more casual outfits II has seen them in yet, but is unsurprised. III hates to ruin clothes when he works outside, and so has some outfits designated for garden tasks if they are doing more than watering. III grabs Vessels hand, lacing their fingers together, and soon enough they disappear out the front door. II wonders if it would be difficult to put in a door out to III's garden from within the kitchen, so they don't have to keep going the long way around.

The pathway to III's garden is littered with leaves, bits of moss creeping up and over the stone steps. There's a gentle breeze ruffling their hair, birds singing their songs all around them. Vessel keeps his eye's resolutely locked on the chipping paint on III's fingers, clasped in his own.

"Do you think we should clear some of this foliage off?" III asks, toeing at a bit of the moss with their foot.

"I like it." Vessel says, and so III replies, something terribly fond in their voice, "It stays then."

The words make Vessel smile, looking up from his bare feet for the first time since they left the house, and it's then that Vessel notices Kiwi looking at Vessel from her perch on III's shoulder. Vessel lifts up his hand to wave, smile growing wider when she waves back. III's garden looks mostly as they left it, all of the different types of flowers growing well in neat little rows. Vessel stands awkwardly behind III as they bend over to brush gentle fingers along a few petals of beautiful peony's. III plucks one, turning to gently tuck it behind Vessel's ear. Vessel blushes, thankful the mask he wears hides most of it, though it does nothing for the creeping redness of his ears. The kiss to where his nose would be under the mask only serves to make Vessel more... not embarrassed, shy? He is flattered, at least.

Not long after III begins clearing the few weeds that had popped up, cooing gently at his marigolds as they do so, Vessel wanders off with a quiet call over his shoulder, "I'll be back."

III turns to watch him go, contemplating whether he should go with him or not, but Vessel moves quickly, disappearing into the tree line still wrapped up in his blue starry blanket, accompanied by a crow on his shoulder. Feeling like they are being watched, III looks up and finds II staring out the kitchen window at the forest where Vessel wandered off, looking terribly sad. When he notices III looking, he smiles, but it does not lose the melancholy that fights to tilt it down into a frown. Before long, II is back to staring after Vessel, and III can only send his love down the bond as an attempt at comfort.

It is some time before Vessel comes back, long after II has gone back to organizing the bookshelves. III has finished watering his entire garden and clearing some fallen tree litter, Kiwi holding onto a braid by his face and speaking to him in wonder about the forest (which she has never seen before) and all the webs she has made in only the best corners of III's room since they'd been gone. There's dirt and bits of twigs on one side of the blanket Vessel has still wrapped around him, but the bond feels, lighter, almost. The peony still sits behind his ear.

The rest of the day is spent cleaning up the rest of the house, or what of it they can. Some things need repaired or replaced entirely. Something to be done when II's range of movement is not so limited. III and Vessel take on the brunt of the work when II inevitably is forced to take a break. Many of them, in fact, despite his mild complaints. III won't take no for an answer, forcing II down onto the couch with a glass of iced raspberry tea.

Vessel feels as though he is experiencing all of this at a distance, his mind continually going back to his nightmare and what dream II had said. Should Vessel ask? Does he dare? There was no way II and III knew of what Hate said to him, what It offered.

That night, Vessel crawls into II's bed (after III had informed II that he would probably not want to be in III's room due to all the spiderwebs Kiwi had made, and the little spider herself). He is careful of how the bed shifts under him, II's wound still tender enough to hurt if he moves even slightly the wrong way. Vessel wants to hold him, wrap his arms around II's waist and lay his head on the smaller man's stomach. He doesn't feel as though he deserves that, however, not with his nightmare still fresh from the night before. He settles on III's other side instead, letting III wrap Ii up in his arms and pretending he's perfectly alright with only reaching an arm over III's waist to lay on II's hip. As with the night before, Vessel layers blankets over himself, making sure to share with II and III, though it doesn't escape his notice that II barely covers himself with them. When Vessel goes to sleep, it is to the sound of his lovers steady breathing and the hope that his nightmare was just a one time thing.

It was not.

Vessel is running, stumbling over roots and shoving past low hanging branches that scratch against the soft skin of his face. Bare feet squish into mud that slows him down as Vessel frantically follows the whispers of the trees around him, leading him to his lovers with a phantom hand pulling tight on the bond they share.

He's running as fast as he can, for once thankful for his long legs that carry him over the rough terrain quickly. Like the first night, II is laid out over the forest floor, solidified blood pinning him onto the dirt as if he were a butterfly on display. III is there this time, hunched over II and holding a hand close to their chest. Vessel nearly trips when he sees them, so overcome with relief it brings immediate tears to his eyes. The relief is short lived, III tipping over onto his side just as Vessel reaches the both of them. His gaze zeroes in on the black blood protruding out of III's stomach, the dribble of crimson in the corner of III's mouth.

Time slows down. If Vessel had pupils, they would be mere pinpricks in the mass of his crimson irises, eyes widened in horror. When he makes his way to their sides, it is with shaking legs, stumbling steps that threaten to send him careening down onto the forest floor. II is completely still under III, glassy eyes staring up into the trees. Vessel sobs, pulling III up by his shoulders to at least check if they're still alive. III's chest is empty of air, not even the barest bit of movement to signify breathing. Vessel shakes him anyway, sobbing loudly with every sharp intake of panicked breaths, breaths he doesn't need.

Around them, the forest begins to bleed.

Red drips down from tree trunks like sticky sap, leaves staining from stem to edge a deep scarlet. Green moss froths, dying crimson. The dirt begins to swell, deep browns becoming rich, bloody red.

His hands slip, blood from III's wound, protruding straight out of his back, coating his fingers. The same thing that hurt - killed- II is sticking out of them, burning into Vessel's skin. His flesh blisters but Vessel doesn't care, barely even feels it. III's head lolls over Vessel's shoulder as he pulls them to his chest, careful of the protrusion. A hand comes up to cradle III's head, weaving into their loose hair.

"Why..." III gasps, coughing harshly, "Why did you come back?"

"Why would I not come back? I will always come back for you." Vessel whispers, voice breaking on the tail end of a shuddering sob.

"We don't want you anymore." Weak hands try to shove Vessel away, beating against his stomach and chest, pushing against his arms, but in an act of pure selfishness, Vessel does not allow it.

Vessel's world shatters into pieces. III's breath hitches, splatters of hot, wet blood leaving his lungs. Where it hits the ground, more blood rises from the cold dark earth.

"No, please, you said you'd never leave me. You promised-"

"I've broken promises to you before." III spits, breaking out into a coughing fit.

"Only one, only one, beloved." Vessel mumbles, "You've kept every important promise to me. Every single one."

"Two and I said we would never leave." Vessel's hands tighten where he is grasping desperately at III's shirt, dead eyes boring into II's equally as lifeless ones, waiting for the final blow to land.

So quiet now, fragile and dying, Vessel is only able to hear due to their close proximity, III's next words follow what already felt like a death knell, "We'll leave you, now. As you left us."

"No-"

III makes a horrible gasping sound. It rattles his lungs, seeming to echo in the silent forest. Vessel waits, pulling III closer. It is as close as they've ever been, Vessel thinks, despite the solidified blood protruding out of III's back. He wanted to hold them, but not like this.

When their last breath finally leaves them, Vessel makes not a sound. All at once, time starts again. Every tick of the clock rings in Vessel's ears, marching him to his awaited end. Golden tears are smeared in III's hair, wetting both of their clothes as Vessel continues to cry.

Carefully, gently, as though cradling the most fragile artifact in the world, Vessel pulls III away to lay them at II's side. Deft fingers close blue, blue eyes, starting with III, then moving to II. Vessel sits at their side, golden tears dripping freely off his pale cheeks. Claws threaten to dig into his thighs where he rests them, flexing and unflexing, over and over and over.

He has a promise to keep. He will not break it, he refuses to. Yet, he never promised not to... Yes. That's it.

It is as easy as breathing to summon a knife, the golden bladed ritual knife he used to cut out his heart. The dream bends to his whim, and if Vessel were not so caught up in 'his home is gone. His lovers are dead. He has no purpose. They're dead, they're dead and he must follow-', he would know that this will not kill him in the way he wants. He would recognize this as a dream. But the mind is an easy thing to deceive when it is shown it's worst fears. No matter that the fears were conjured up by the mind itself.

He really should have let Hate kill him. It would have hurt less than this, he is sure. Vessel deserves this though, as always. When he goes, when Sleep welcomes him, Vessel can ask to be eradicated. Maybe with a little begging Sleep will do it. Vessel doesn't mind giving his body over to the God to use as a true vessel for His will. Connected as they are, it should be possible. And if it isn't, will Sleep be able to erase Vessel's mind? Keep him locked up in a little box in the back of his own head, asleep forevermore and ignorant of the world that no longer is home to the only things that kept him going?

Pressing the knife to his throat, it is quick work to glide it against soft, yielding flesh.

"Vessel! Wake up! Please-"

Vessel startles awake, a burnt hand coming up to hold his throat. It comes back wet with blood when he pulls it away. Six eyes slowly slide up to meet the panicked, tear-filled eyes of his lovers, wide awake and surrounding him as though it was Vessel on his deathbed, like he hadn't just watched them both die-.

The sight of them rips a relieved sob from Vessel's chest. Instinctually, unable to help himself, he sits up with the intent to reach out for one or both of them, but pulls back at the last second.

"Vessel, honey, what's happened? You were so upset in your sleep that it woke us up and then we couldn't wake y- Ves!" II starts, cutting himself off in alarm when Vessel practically launches himself from the bed.

Like the first night when all of this began, the blankets follow him, try to keep him pinned onto the bed.

Vessel is cold. He wants- He wants-

Vessel is gone and out the bedroom door before II and III can process what is going on. They'd both awoken to the distress (and that word feels utterly lacking in the face of the pure emotion Vessel had felt) in the bond, overflowing and practically being shoved at them, like an alarm bell blaring within their souls.

It filled them with dread, and that feeling only worsens now as they watch Vessel flee away from them. III will not forget the red blood trickling slowly down Vessel's neck as if something had cut him there, tried to slit his throat...

II and III clamber down the stairs after Vessel just in time to hear the front door click shut, II lagging behind severely, hindered by his aching scar. III is unsure whether to leave II behind and follow after Vessel, or stay to help II down the stairs.

II decides for him, "Go. Ves is more important, go."

III gives a short nod before he is also out the front door. Frantic eyes scan the clearing around their home, searching for Vessel. He doesn't have to look far.

Vessel sits on his knees just at the edge of the clearing where well-kept meadow transitions into forest. He is hunched over into himself, folded in half with his arms over his head. Afraid that calling out to him will make Vessel flee again, III makes their way to his side, kneeling just beside him. Close now, the sobs wracking Vessels' frame are apparent though not for the noise they make, but how they shake his shoulders.

"Sugar?"

Vessel's whole body flinches, but he does not move to run away. He says something, but III cannot make it out, warbled and quiet as it is.

"Can you say that again, beautiful?" III asks, voice gentle as they hear the front door close as quietly as possible.

"Keep me. I'll be good. Just keep me. Please, keep me. Stay. Stay." An audible sob is finally hear, and then Vessel is sitting up, turning his torso so he can reach out and curl into III's lap.

II walks up beside them, struggling crouch down, an expression of insurmountable sadness seemingly etched into every pore. III lifts on hand up, already moving to wrap his arms around Vessel, urging II to stay standing to not strain his side. II barely listens, anguish, whether physical or mental, flashing across his face. He stays upright, and III settles their arms over Vessel's back, rubbing soothing circles over a bony rib.

"Please keep me. I don't want to lose the only home I've ever had." Vessel trembles, cold hands grasping at III's shirt so tightly his knuckles go grey.

III tightens his arms around Vessel's back, trying to pull him closer. Vessel cries against his stomach, wetting III's sleep shirt. There is not an ounce of care about it, the clothes can be washed of gold. "You're not going anywhere, Ves. We'll keep you forever if you'll let us."

"We want to keep you as much as you want to keep us." II whispers, settling on resting a hand on III's head.

It feels like a long time before Vessel pulls away, cries quieting to small sniffles, the sun yet to rise. The moon shines above them, the forest is silent. Things aren't okay yet, but III has to hope they will be soon. Vessel does not protest when III gets them both up, leads all three of them back into the manor. Elvira waits just inside the door, following their little procession to the bathroom and the first aid kit within it.

It is II that has to put a bandage over the thin cut on Vessel's neck, hurt by Vessel's nervous expression but resolved to treat him regardless. It had stopped bleeding quickly, black and red blood crusted around it. II wants to ask. So does III, leaned against the doorframe as II works and carefully avoiding the red so his fears don't send him into an illogical panic. They will not leave their partners right now, refusing to even think of it. His fear will not keep them apart. The burns aren't severe, somewhere between first and second degree. It is easy to guess what Vessel's nightmare may have been about.

The burns do not explain the wound on Vessel's neck.

Vessel lets III herd them all back to II's room, leaving momentarily to grab more of Vessel's plushies and make tea. Vessel and II long to touch, but Vessel will not reach out and II will not force it on him. They are left stagnant, yearning, Vessel's trauma once again making things difficult. It leaves Vessel guilty, lessened when II offers him a beautiful, lopsided but sad smile.

Vessel's empty chest warms, and some of the guilt alleviates. He has not apologized yet, he realizes. His mouth opens, closes, opens again. The apology for hurting II never comes out, and instead Vessel bites into his lip, angry with himself.

A glass of iced tea is handed to II from an old antique silver tray, carried by III with surprising ease. Vessel is handed a mug of hot chocolate, beverage type shared with III within their own mug. They all sit on the bed, Vessel finding himself under blankets again as they lean squished together along the headboard. Tired of the silence, III pulls up a movie on their phone, some superhero movie about a rich man who makes a suit of iron. The phone remains propped up on III's legs with a pillow, the screen the only source of light in the dim room. Curled against Vessel's feet and kneading the blanket strewn over them, Elvira purrs.

The movie catches Vessel's attention and manages to distract him, bringing out a couple smiles over the jokes and enraptured by the action scenes. II, relieved, presses a kiss to III's shoulder as the credits roll and discreetly wipes away the swelling of tears in his eyes. Hope that things will be alright now keep II going, sleep claiming him quickly, head leant against the very shoulder he kissed minutes prior. Vessel and III end up watching another movie, the second in the Iron Man franchise as the sun begins to rise. Their empty mugs sit forgotten on the nightstand.

Vessel is not okay, but he can pretend to be, throw himself into needed distraction and the affections of his lovers. It's easier to pretend, that way.

By the third night, faced with the same reoccurring nightmare as the two nights previous, Vessel dreads falling asleep, and yet he lays down to let it claim him anyway. Expecting the same outcome as previous nights, III holds Vessel to him, an arm over his waist, plushies piled between them for Vessel's comfort. II is on III's other side, desperate to touch but knowing Vessel will likely start crying again, begging II not to touch him, and putting II's recently fragile heart through a shredder.

When Vessel sleeps, he dreams in loops of the same nightmare. Sometimes they are the same, sometimes there are small differences. Sometimes, those loops include III injured or stuck in his spider form begging through their minds for Vessel to turn them back. It is not a gift they've been given, so Vessel knows that those at least, are dreams. Other times, times where reality and dream blend together, it is III laid out over the ground with II over him, tears streaking down their face as he tells Vessel to leave, to never come back. That everything was all his fault and if he'd just killed himself properly instead of pathetically begging a god for love, none of this ever would have happened to them.

The worst dream is always the exact same as the second night's. II already dead and gone, III dying in Vessel's arms. His splintering mind keeps going back to it, playing it over and over, each time worse than the last.

Throughout all of the dreams, the place where II and III died remains stained by red, the crimson part of the forest slowly seeping out further and further.

Terzo and Orion's words seem like a distant memory compared to the maelstrom within him. Vessel had said he would try, but every step forward seems to be followed by two steps back. He is trying, he swears it.

That third day, Vessel cannot manage even a word of greeting. He spends the day and then the night in his own room, the door closed and locked. That night II and III linger outside of it, hands clasped together. It is II who raises his fist to knock, and when he does, he receives no answer. The bond, their only lifeline throughout this, is quiet but not completely gone. Vessel has pulled away in that way too, keeping to his promise to not disappear, at least. They had hoped things were improving, but this has dashed those hopes completely.

Inside, Vessel lays shivering under a mound of blankets, face buried in his plague doctor plushie as he cries. He wants comfort, but every time he closes his eyes, all he sees is his nightmares, the cruel words of his dream lovers taunting him as the silence in the house stretches on. He knows if he gets up, opens his door, II and III will be waiting for him. They'll welcome him with open arms, grace him with pretty smiles and warm hands. They'll hold him as close as he allows. Vessel will not be alone, unloved, and his partners will be safe.

And yet, in the silence, the faint sound of breathing begins to reach Vessel's ears. A shuddering gasp, a low gurgle, the accusing call of his name.

Vessel lays awake, eyes wide open, trembling, tearful, carefully attuned to the tether of the bond connecting him to his lovers. As long as he is awake, he can make sure they still live. They will not die in his dreams if Vessel never lets himself dream in the first place. The night is long, and after it, Vessel refuses to spend his time being unproductive, refuses to let his mind wander around in circles as the worst nightmare of his life and rebirth replays itself.

II and III try their best to coax Vessel out of his room, attempting to lure him with chocolate or his favorite shows or movies (of the very, very few he's watched), anything, but the other is stealthy, quiet. II only catches a brief glimpse of Vessel lugging his electric keyboard up the staircase to his room. II audibly curses when his healed wound keeps him from following Vessel up the stairs quick enough. The sound of the piano is heard often, then, throughout all hours of the day. When II or III knock on the door, they receive no answer, just a gentle tug of the bond, a bit of reassurance sent their way. The vines move to cover the door a few days in, further entrapping Vessel inside by his own will.

As the days wear on with no sign of Vessel, III begs Sleep at His altar every day to convince Vessel to at least rest, to eat, even just to see them. Sleep, to II's continued detestation, refuses. Within a matter of a day, II was concerned Vessel had begun to hurt himself again without them there to comfort him. His only solace is the reassurance from their God that Vessel keeps to his promise. That, all things considered, he is doing rather well. A stern reminder is given that Vessel has gone longer than this without rest, and then the God is gone. II feels hate festering in his chest, holding III to him that night, side aching fiercely.

Outside their room, the faint sound of a piano sounds from Vessel's room. The instrument is a constant, and it is how II and III know Vessel does not rest, ever. It let's them know he is alive, so they take comfort in it where they can.

The thirteenth day finds Vessel listless, heavy eyebags stark against his pale skin under the mask he has kept on through every waking moment. Ever since the third night, the third nightmare, Vessel hasn't slept. He knows a nightmare will be waiting for him, and he doesn't want to see what horror his own mind will cook up. In weaker moments, being crushed under the loneliness of his self-imposed isolation, he hopes that he will spontaneously die. Just- Die. So he can at last have a peaceful rest. He wouldn't deserve the kindness the universe would have to grant him for that to be the case.

He finds his resolve wavering, exhaustion weighing him down. He had not yet gotten enough rest to recover from the two or so weeks he'd spent awake at the ministry, and again he is doing the exact same thing. He is tired.

He is glad, though, when he lays on his bed and allows his eyes to rest. He falls asleep quickly, body finally giving in to it's needs. Three restless nights of Sleep did absolutely nothing to abate his exhaustion. When he next opens his eyes, Vessel is back exactly where he hoped he wouldn't be.

II is where he always is, laid out over the forest floor. Instead of running through the forest to him, Vessel is already there, straddling him. Compared to the last few nights, II has a knife through his chest, blood spilling over his lips as he gurgles. Under him, spread out like an oil spill, is a concrete sidewalk, the grime of a city darkening it to something akin to an abyss, swallowing both he and his lifeblood.

Confusion and terror course through him. Vessel tries to lift his hands away from the knife but they will not move as if glued there. He tries the rest of his body next, but not an inch of him will move. Tears come quickly as II whimpers and gurgles punctuated by stilted, wet breaths as though he was drowning.

"Two. Two, I'm not- I wouldn't-" Vessel can speak, at least, and so he gets to begging the universe to save them from this.

"I would never do this. This has to be a dream. This- This isn't even how it happened! This wasn't how it happened!" Vessel almost wails as he tries to lift his hands from the knife.

His magic pulses weakly underneath his skin, a faint tingling down his spine. Vessel's chest aches, gold beginning to drip down onto II's barely breathing form. There's a weight growing on his skull, weight settling lightly over his shoulders as something else slides down his back, the gentle caress of magic slipping off of him. Golden tears fall onto II's paling cheeks, his lover mouthing something Vessel cannot hear, cannot understand.

It looks almost like 'I love you.'

"Hey! What the fuck is going on?" A voice shouts, but Vessel does not hear it, too lost in his panic and the confusion ripping through every bit of his body.

There's splotches of red on one of the fingers holding the knife. Is it blood? Is it II's blood slipping through the crevices of his fingers? He's killing him- He's- He didn't do this-

"I didn't kill him! He- he was robbed. I saw it. I didn't do this. I didn't. I would never- Please, I don't want to be here any more, I want to wake up from this terrible dream. I want to go home. I didn't do this-" Begging to anyone or anything that will listen, Vessel struggles in vain to move, to get up, to force himself out of this dream - he knows now that that is what this is.

He has never woken himself up before, but he thinks it might be possible. It has to be. Vessel would kill himself permanently at even the barest chance he would ever hurt one of his lovers like this. He would never do this.

"Hey! Fucking get off of-" The voice is closer now, almost directly next to him.

A force shoves him harshly, a body crashing into his.

For the briefest, most glorious moment, Vessel is relieved. He will not keep hurting II. Then, his mind catches up to the situation. He and whatever has just hit him both go rolling. Dirt the color of old blood and dead leaves fly up around them, getting in his mouth and eyes, crimson moss cushioning their bodies to no avail. Arms hold Vessel down by his shoulders, and he panics, flailing, trying to free himself of the weight settled over his thighs, a sob catching in his throat. His eyes sting, he doesn't understand what's going on.

He doesn't want to- Get her off- Get off- No, wait, he isn't allowed to refuse-

"What the fuck were you doing?" The person on top of him yells into his face and Vessel goes deathly still, squinting open stinging eyes hesitantly.

Oh.

It isn't her- His dream has not shifted from II's death to- To his girlfriend-

"Four. Four." Vessel whimpers, voice nothing more than a frail whisper, blinking dirt from his eyes as best as he can.

Four's presence further solidifies that this is all a dream. There is relief to be found in that, relief in not being alone in it.

The righteous anger in Four's eyes melts into confusion, and then slowly into realization.

"Vessel?"

Four seems to finally notice their positions, the fear still blatant within Vessel's wide, teary eyes. His hands raise, cradling them to his chest, scrambling off of Vessel but lingering close as he says, "Fuck, Vessel, I'm so sorry! I didn't remember you."

Vessel slowly sits up, wiping tears and dirt from his eyes and snot from his nose. He looks over, expecting to see II dead again, like so many times before, but there is nothing but a bed of spindly red flowers. No sign of concrete to be seen.

"Where did he go?" Four asks, looking around with concern.

"This is... It's a dream. It's just a dream. I'll wake up, and Two will be fine. Just like every night before." It's a clear attempt to reassure himself, Four frowning at the utter desperation in Vessel's voice.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, this is a nightmare. I've been having so many." Vessel replies, the forced calm in his voice blatant when paired with the tremble all throughout his body.

"You do not have to lie to me, Vessel. I know we don't really know each other well, but... If you're not actually feeling alright, then tell me." Four starts, trailing off when more tears gather in Vessel's eyes.

"You are too kind." Vessel murmurs, gaze continually wandering back to the spot where II laid.

"Thanks but uh, why don't we move away from here? You're not looking too good."

Vessel does not answer verbally but it is still clear as he moves to stand. Tentatively, giving Vessel ample time to pull away, Four reaches out and grabs his hand. Vessel has the strangest urge to lace their fingers together, as he would with II or III. Four begins leading them off. clearly having no idea where he's going, but Vessel doesn't mind. He is glad to be rid of the view of that crimson clearing. He avoids it as best as he can on his walks, the forest understanding it is a no-gone zone. The trees above their heads and the green moss below their feet begins transitioning quickly into red, a bloody scarlet, the further they walk. Vessel considers having them turn back, but as long as they don't venture too far in, it should be fine regardless of his trepidation. If Vessel pays enough attention, he swears he can spot the stag trailing along with them, mere glimpses caught between the trunks of tall, thick oaks. A white gazebo comes into view some time later, a dilapidated thing covered in thick, red clusters of silver lace vines. It is caving in on one side, lacking in railings, floorboards creaking underneath their feet and Vessel finds there is no bench. It is lovely though, a new landmark he has yet to discover. He wonders if it is apart of the dreamscape, or if it actually exists in the waking world. It is so hard to tell now that both the waking forest and the sleeping one are laced with spots of red. Four lets go of Vessel's hand as they enter under the canopy of flowers, and Vessel takes the chance to lay down, exhausted even in his own dream. Decorative flower motifs are etched into the boards above their heads, vermillion ivy vines offsetting the ruby of the the silver lace flowers. Even here, the vines reach out towards him, peeking up through the floorboards to say hello.

His antlers dig in to the wooden boards as he lays down, and it seems as though he is only now noticing them. A clawed hand reaches up to run fingers along the protrusions, a contemplative frown gracing his lips as the other hand wipes away the remnants of tears. Slowly, Four moves close enough to sit at his side before deciding to just lay next to him.

"Who was that?" Four questions, quiet, tentative, as though Vessel will shatter if the words are said too loudly, with too much force.

He looks over at Vessel, his cloak stained with dirt, staring up into the ancient canopies visible through breaks in the gazebo ceiling and plants. This part of the forest looks to be in perpetual autumn, Four taking it all in with curious, awed eyes. A bit of that awe is directed at Vessel, too, Four sneaking glances at the other occasionally.

Every bit of this place is beautiful, him included. Despite being in a dream, Vessel feels better than he has in days. The tiredness of his waking mind is lesser here, his mind clearer now that he is away from the main scene of his nightmares. The magic that always seems to settle over him is long gone, and it's like he has full control again.

"The man I was on top of?" Vessel responds, voice weaker than he intends it to be, hands coming to rest over each other on his stomach.

Four hums in lieu of a proper verbal answer, and Vessel sighs, a nearly imperceptible little thing, filled with bone deep sadness.

For the first time since Vessel had begun having these dreams, he actually wants to talk about II, about any of it. He couldn't, before, not when the dreams were so raw and terrifying and he had a difficult time differentiating them from reality. Not when fears he cannot tell II and III were a lot of the focus.

"That was one of my partners, Two. It was... it was like the way he died, mixed with, well, he got... hurt, recently. Almost died to another God. If I had just stayed with him-" Vessel cuts himself off, finding his voice too emotional and unsure if he should be explaining this much.

Four doesn't need to hear him break down, even though the sight of him doing so would likely be familiar at this point. He already witnesses so much when he finds himself in Vessel's dreams, and now to be dragged into what could have been a waking nightmare, what could have been Vessel's reality, what was II's reality...

"Oh, you've mentioned a boyfriend before. Is he... alright now?" Four says, soft, kind, curious.

Always so kind, despite what he's witnessed within Vessel's dreams.

"Yes. He's healed, but scarred now. It's all my fault." Vessel laments, "He must hate me. He promises he doesn't, but how could he not? I failed him. I left them and he got hurt-"

"Why did you leave him?" Four asks, curious eyes filled with something like hesitation.

"It... wasn't willingly. I was dragged away."

Four cuts Vessel off before he can continue further, "Then, its settled. You didn't leave him willingly, so it is not your fault that he got hurt. You clearly are torn up about the whole thing. Vessel, Two's injury is not your fault."

"But-" Vessel starts, bewildered and almost desperate to deny Four's words.

"It wasn't your fault." Four reaffirms, the ocean of his eyes a deep abyss, "You tried to get back to him, didn't you?"

"Of course! I- I forced Sleep to let me go to them. Threatened Him... in a way I never have before."

"He's alive, isn't he? Isn't that what matters the most? That you both, er, all of you are alive and breathing? The circumstances were out of your control. From your reaction, you'd go back in time and stop him from ever being near the danger in the first place. It isn't your fault, Vessel. Two must know this, and he surely wants you to know this too. He loves you, doesn't he? He doesn't hit you like your previous partners? Doesn't force you to do anything you don't want to?"

"No... never. Two is... They're both so good to me when I don't- When I feel like I don't deserve their kindness, their gentle hands."

"He loves you, so you should let him show that affection. Don't deny yourself their love because you think you don't deserve it." Four is oddly wise for a man who does not know the full circumstances, so self assured.

To have another near stranger, drawn to him as Vessel is, be so sure about all of this... Vessel is almost guilty that each of their words seem to be getting through to him better than II or III's. Perhaps its Vessel's fear of them leaving him. That feels like something II would say.

"I hurt him... I thought he was in danger again, and I hurt him while trying to protect. I don't feel like I deserve his affections anymore." Vessel admits solemnly, a hand falling to rest in the moss by his side.

It tickles his skin in greeting, as though even here the forest knows him, now unconstrained by the dreams Vessel has been having.

"That is for Two to decide. It was an accident, you were trying to protect him, as you said." It is something Vessel has already heard from III, and some part of Vessel already knows the truth of it.

It is a hard pill to swallow. The thickness of it clogs his throat, but Vessel had made promises to try, so...

He is glad when Four speaks up, giving him something else to focus on instead of the swarm of emotions swirling around in his empty chest cavity.

"You know, of friend of mine hit me at a bar the other day. He said I was making eyes at his girlfriend. I wasn't, too lost in the drink I didn't even want but he was too drunk to listen to me, and probably wouldn't have listened even if he was sober. My boyfriend caught me after I got punched, but he was so angry he didn't really notice how tight he was holding my arm when he hit him back, so hard it sent that friend of mine to the ground. Knocked him out, even. Boyfriend sprained his thumb though, punched the friend wrong I guess. I felt terrible, because he only got that injury protecting me. It doesn't erase all of the times recently that my boyfriend has hit me, or said... such cruel things, but it felt like a start. Like I was finally getting my boyfriend back, the one I fell in love with. He's been nicer about my mistakes for a bit now. Apologizing a lot more, too, especially after he- After-" Four, who had been rambling on almost as if he was talking to himself, quiets.

A hand comes to rest over his throat, massaging the skin there searchingly, as if looking for the bruises that must have lasted a while. Vessel remembers them from the second dream they'd shared, knows how Four's throat must have ached, how his voice must have been hoarse and broken for a long time even as the bruises started to heal. "Once I got thinking about it after the adrenaline of the situation wore off, I realized it wasn't my fault my boyfriend sprained his thumb. It was his decision to protect me, I did not force him to, did not ask him to. He smiled real big at me afterwards, getting a splint for his finger at the hospital. Said it was to start making up for all he'd done to me. I guess, what I'm trying to say is, oh, I don't know. I was trying to give you an example but the situation isn't really the same, is it?"

Four blushes, and Vessel watches curiously as his cheeks turn redder and redder the longer silence lingers between them. He really is very pretty, even with just a mouth and eyes. Vessel wonders if he can give him the rest of his features. An endeavor for a different dream, should Four come back.

There is so much Vessel wants to say. So much that it tightens his throat enough that he isn't sure he can say anything at all.

Vessel's first boyfriend was like that, and so was his first and second girlfriend. They all said they loved him, initially. Though as he went from partner to partner, the grace period where they didn't hurt him got shorter and shorter. There was little remorse to be had, but Vessel didn't expect any. He deserved it, or rather, felt he deserved the pain, the hurt. Four doesn't. Vessel knows without even a bit of doubt, that Four doesn't deserve what is happening to him. He opens his mouth to tell him so, to- to tell Four that he should leave his boyfriend but the words catch in his suddenly tight throat.

"You are... very kind, Four." Vessel settles on, the words tasting like ash on his tongue.

Four has already seen bits of what was done to Vessel, why can he not bring himself to speak of it? To- to warn the other man? Vessel is a coward, that's why. Foolishly optimistic just this once, to boot. Vessel hopes beyond hope that Four's boyfriend really will change for the better. He is not rotten on the inside like Vessel. Four is kind, so kind, so underserving of a boyfriend who treats him as he does.

"So you've said, but thank you." Four grins, cheeks still faintly red.

He's... adorable too. A blush of his own rises to Vessel's cheeks, and he realizes his mask is not on.

"This place is very pretty." Four deflects, "Lots of different reds. It's kind of unusual, but I like it."

"It is the forest around my home. Sometimes when I dream, red bleeds out into the forest, changes it." Vessel says, reaching a hand out to his side and growing a white calla lily up through the cracks of the floorboards.

When Vessel hands it over into Four's line of sight, he contemplates telling him it's meaning. Good wishes seemed a proper gift. Vessel decides not to say anything. Four takes it with a pretty smile, Vessel no longer staring above but instead at him, taking in what features are visible, drinking him in. Mildly embarrassed, Vessel straightens his head. There is silence for a few minutes, punctuated only by Four's soft breathing. Vessel is... oddly content considering how the dream started, as well as how the last couple weeks have gone. He has been terribly lonely, though it was his own fault. Always such a coward.

"Are you happy?" Four questions, holding the calla lily out above his head, watching how the sun shines through it.

"What?" Vessel responds, confused, pausing with his own hand above his face, watching a vermillion vine creep over his wrist towards his palm.

"Are you happy? Do your boyfriends make you happy? Does the life you live make you happy?" Four asks again, turning his head to get a proper look at Vessel.

Dirt slides off his forehead, specks of it making its way out of his pale blonde hair. A smile curls at his lips, ocean eyes wide and soft with curiosity, but also uncertainty. Vessel thinks back to the bruises he sees on the other man occasionally, and wonders for a moment before the sight of Four's smile falling brings him back to the question he was asked.

Is Vessel happy?

His first response is to say no. It is met with disagreement, an uncomfortable twist in his gut like a stone has plopped right down heavily.

He is happy with II and III. They do make him happy, he realizes with a start. He is overjoyed at every moment they spend together, whether they speak or not, whether they are touching or not. Vessel is content to simply be with them. Despite his anxieties and his fears, Vessel relishes in every moment they gift him.

"My boyfriends do make me happy. My life is only worth living because of them. They are trying to teach me that I am more than what other's have done to me, more than the mess of insecurities within my own mind." Vessel says, and since Four has seen some of what has been done to him, does not feel the need to explain himself any further.

"Then there is hope for me." Four mumbles, but before Vessel can even gather the words to respond to the admission, Four is barreling on into a different topic entirely.

"Are you a God, Vessel?" There's a light laugh in Four's voice, something light and airy and inquisitive.

It's cute, but then Vessel registers the question.

Vessel's mouth gapes open at the mere notion of-

Him, a God?

"No! Whyever would you think that?" Vessel blurts, incredulous.

"Your six eyes! The stag antlers! The way I keep appearing here and all this talk of Gods."

Vessel finds himself not surprised, not by the cloak around his shoulders, the pelt cushioning his upper back nor the decorated antlers on his head. This is all... something he had been more or less expecting, something he caught a glimpse of in the ocean's reflection when Four had seen that dream of Vessel's offering. He had expected to be changed. It is not so bad.

"I... I also saw you without your heart. How are you alive without your heart if you are not a God?"

Vessel pales, looking more terrified than Four has ever seen on his face, frozen like a corpse beside him. "You... you what? You... you remember?"

Four stills, an expression of deep confusion overcoming his blurry features. So little of him can be seen, and yet there is so much expressiveness in the tilt of his mouth, the downturn of his eyes. "Remember what?"

Vessel tilts his head to properly face him, voice breaking on a barely held back sob, chest heaving with a steadying breath, "Remember that I do not- Four?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm waking up." Four mutters, voice slurred as if he's in a daze, hands lifting above his face.

Flickering like a dying candle, the light shining through the canopies above begin to pass right through, and then he is gone. The calla lily goes with him. Vessel is left alone, laid out over floorboards that creak with every movement. Four remembers, he knows. Vessel had hoped that he wouldn't. Now, he is sure that two people know his secret.

It was different with Terzo, but the man who will become their Fourth is another matter entirely. Vessel is afraid, and yet, beyond that fear is the realization that Four had known Vessel was without his heart this entire dream, and yet there was no fear. There was no hesitancy in touching him, in speaking with him.

Someone else knows, and while that scares Vessel, it leaves him just a little bit lighter too. He wonders what it would be like to hug Four.

Vessel has no more nightmares, after that. When he dreams, he conjures flowerbeds to lay in, listening to artificial birdsong, content to pretend that he is awake and out in Sleep's forest. He would never dare tell anyone this, but he wishes that Four were with him. When he wakes not long after Four disappears, he seeks out II and III. Apologies for pulling away and an explanation are spilled through silent tears, accepted with loving hands and gentle kisses. Vessel does not tell them of Four, but he tells them most everything else. How Vessel's greatest fear (outside of the matter of his heart) is that they will leave him all alone, whether through death or deciding they won't want him anymore. Like every time Vessel reveals fears of his, his words are met with understanding, with love and assurances that lean into logic where needed. It helps, it really helps and Vessel is so... so grateful for his lovers.

Still, there is hesitance when Vessel leans down to press a kiss to II's temple that morning, hesitance when II reaches out to clasp their fingers together. II notices, and considers his options.

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