#sleep token vessel imagine

[sleepiestoken]

some of my favourite lyrics from the whole album.. so vulnerable

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

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

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

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

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

Vessel

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

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

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

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

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

ii

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

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

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

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

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

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

iii

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

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

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

Ivy

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

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

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

[holding-on-to-smoke]

it wasn't alkaline

[glitterghost]

Vessel thinking anyone could ever forget him? Sir, you are permanently etched into all our ears, minds, and hearts. Like fuck, I don't think anyone could forget you even if they wanted to.

[babextoken]

♡⟡˙⋆It takes us a little higher⋆˙⟡♡

Summary: You've never been fond of your roommate Vessel, but a mortifying shared experience brings you closer than you ever thought possible.

a/n: MDNI - smut under the cut. Alternate, affectionate title is "Close the Fucking Door. Holy Shit."

roommate!vessel x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, some angst, porn with plot, accidental voyeurism, laundry day tension, vessel's favorite color seems to be emerald, reader and vessel are mean to each other, very brief slut shaming (the word "whore" is used twice derogatorily), “you’re the closest and hottest thing right now” type shit, rough sex but it’s comfort sex

No, roommates don’t have to be friends. There is no bylaw saying if you share a dwelling and the bills therein you have to be the best of friends with your housemate…but if there was, you and Vessel would be faced with a hefty fine. Where you saw the opportunity to be lighthearted, he would claim you never took anything seriously; yet when he attempted to be playful with you, you accused him of mocking you. Is this brownstone in town worth the strife? Actually, yes. Everyone has their own comfortable spaces, it’s close to everyone’s workplace, the rent is reasonable. And yet. This afternoon you’re in the little laundry room sorting things to go into the washer when you hear the heaviest sigh. “Just going to start laundry, then? No worries if anyone else needs it.” Oh, he’s grumpy today.

Vessel has his barely filled laundry basket in his long arms and impatiently drums his fingers on it. 

“Doesn’t seem like you were going to ask me. Now does it?” You nod at his laundry basket as he stammers a bit. “Just put it in with mine.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Vessel, seriously,” you snap, “you have barely anything in there. We’d be wasting water if I didn’t…”

“This is how I always do my laundry! Saying I’m the reason the water bill i–”

“JUST… put your laundry in the washer. Jesus.”

Vessel huffs and drops his laundry in like you said (or as you demanded as he would have put it). You two can hardly look at each other. He doesn’t even acknowledge you as you thank him. He shows his gratitude by switching the laundry and then sorting it once it’s dry. He does this in the living room with an inconsequential movie on. You join him for what you call “a folding paaarrttyyyyy.” This actually gets a little laugh from him. Humorless laugh, but it’s a sign of life. 

It had been a month or so of just existing in the same space since an “incident” had occurred. Neither of you brought it up but it lingered heavily between you.

𓍯𓂃

The morning of the incident you two had a civil, even thoughtful, conversation. You told Ves you’d be out that evening, maybe even all night. This delighted him. He could do some audio mixing without fear of interruption. Spread out in the living room. Oh the possibilities! He even asked who the guy was. Anything to encourage you to leave him alone for the night. Get you talking and excited about whoever the hell this poor man is so that maybe you’d get yourself all giddy and blushy and convince yourself to stay out all night. You deserve it…no wait…no. Vessel deserved it. He had to keep reminding himself he didn’t actually care. 

Except he did. The evening was actually boring. You’d only been gone an hour, and he was already thinking about going to bed. He idly wondered what you and the guy were doing. That emerald green dress you had on made it seem like you were dead set on seducing on him. The way it hugged your hips and didn’t even graze your knees. How your sheer black stockings made your legs glimmer just a bit. Vessel came to the conclusion that you actually could seduce this man without even trying…you’d just have to show up. Fuck. These weird, clouded, thoughts that flirted with being both positive and lustful rubbed Vessel the wrong way. That’s his roommate he’s thinking about. Maybe he’s just lonely.

Yes, that’s it. He’s desperate. And that feeling churns and grows to the point where he can’t ignore it anymore. He’s home alone, after all. Why not make a little “to do” about it? He dimmed his lights and slipped out of his clothes, splaying out on his bed with a little bottle of lube close by. This was something he missed. Indulging in a little fantasy and playing with himself, all while not having to wonder if someone would hear him or walk in or just make some goddamn annoying noise that would distract him. All he could hear was his ragged, raspy breaths and soft moans…and the slick pornographic sounds of his fist pumping his cock. God it was so nice to just edge a little…he really did deserve this. He tries to think of something to calm him down and dull the feeling. Your most recent argument about where the reusable grocery bags were was very helpful in this instance…except for when he remembered your little dress. How soft you looked piled in the satin. What kind of panties did you have on under that? No panty line was visible so maybe…no don’t go there. But he has to. He has to imagine what it would be like to let his fingers trail up your inner thigh to then lift your dress and see those fucking tights hugging your plush ass and maybe even how your soft thighs would expand as you sit back on your heels, your pretty eyes gazing up at him…

“Oh…fuck!”

But it wasn’t Vessel exclaiming. Why were you home? “CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR. HOLY SHIT.”

You had scurried into your room. Your cheeks hurt from your nervous grin and the blush dusting your cheeks; you feel like a little girl running from her crush. But this wasn’t innocent. You had just watched your roommate cum. The little whimpers and groans piqued your attention the second you entered the hall. You actually thought he had been crying but…good god. If there had been tears, they’d have been ones of ecstasy. The look on his face…you’ll never forget that. The way his jaw fell and his eyebrows knitted together…how his bobbing throat signaled yet another desperate moan. You had left your date way early for…reasons you’d rather not think about at the moment. You had a new problem. The image of arrogant, quiet Vessel truly enjoying himself…looking absolutely delicious…vulnerable…that wasn't leaving your mind anytime soon. And you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his abs flexed as he came…what would they feel like under your hand if you were riding him? Or against your own soft tummy while you’re on your back? Or even against your back as he spooned and fucked you while whispering filth in your ear. You stared up at the ceiling by the low light of your bedside lamp after taking care of yourself. The thrill from your momentary distraction from your bad date turns into guilt and settles in your tummy where your arousal once was.

Your mind won’t shut up. Berating you for being such a perv. And that’s when you hear Ves. Pacing. He does that sometimes. Of all the sounds you hear from sharing a wall with him, that’s the sound you’ve come to anticipate the most. How his mind reels at night. You start to ruminate, imagining that he regrets this. But it seems you finally have something in common tonight. You’re embarrassed. You’re awake. And you’re alone. Instead of nodding off, you take a chance. You reach up and knock softly on your shared wall. Just a little, “I’m right  there with you.” And as you drift off to sleep you hear two soft, timid knocks above your head.

𓍯𓂃

With the laundry folded in complete and utter silence, you sigh heavily and take your folded laundry into your room. Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you grin at the text…completely ignoring the visitor in your doorway. You don’t even look up but you speak. “I’m going out tonight.”

“Oh? Uhm. Cool.” Vessel tries to act as if he isn’t the one encroaching on your space. Too aloof to care. He certainly wasn’t feeling touch and attention starved. Not at all. That had nothing to do with why he was standing in your doorway, watching you poke at your phone. “Another date?”

“Yep. Been too long since the last one.”

Ves looks at you thoughtfully and weighs his options. Does he risk perhaps having to talk about the “close the fucking door. Holy shit” incident? Or does he continue to push you away? Continue to make you the villain in his inner monologue? He takes a deep breath, holds it, and bites the bullet. “Why did you come home so early that night?”

A long sigh escapes you. “I…got to the restaurant and, well, basically he told me I looked easy and that he liked that. So the whole evening was just…” you pause and look away. 

“He didn’t try to…like…”

“No.” You don’t mean to snap, but you did. Vessel nods, nonplussed by your tone. “No, I didn't give him a chance. Turns out I’m a whore for dressing like that and for not putting out. Such is life, yeah?” 

“Waste of an outfit, if you ask me.” You stare at Vessel for a bit. He seems angry. Tense. His legs jitter a bit and he wipes his face with a long exhale. “You should be taken out in that dress whenever you want…wherever you want.” 

You go to your closet and pull out a few dresses like your emerald and hold them up to yourself in the mirror. “Well, he’s getting a second chance tonight.”

He scoffs and crosses his arms. His height allows him to take up most of your doorframe; he secretly hopes that might keep you from leaving. From seeing that degenerate. If you just wanted to get fucked he wishes you’d just ask him. But he has to remind himself that some people need a bit more than that. He wouldn’t know the first thing about what you needed. He pleaded with himself nightly to not worry about it. It won’t work. It shouldn’t work. But damnit…you’re right there. The single hottest and closest thing. Vessel doesn't realize he’s just been staring, shaking his head with disappointment.

“Care to share or are you just being weird?” You say without looking away from the mirror.

“Why are you putting yourself through this? Hm? Do you like being treated like that?”

He purses his lips when your eyes pierce through him, getting ready to strike. “Well, not that present company can understand this but people can change and redeem themselves. Besides, what do you care?”

You’ve got him. Vessel looks down, sniffs, and shrugs. “Maybe you are a whore.” He immediately winces. That was mean…and stupid. He pushes himself off the doorframe and sulks back to his room. But you’re on his heels.

“Tell me why you care, Vessel,” you demand to his back. He won’t turn and face you. “Fucking look at me.”

With a heavy sigh, he turns, shoulders slumped…and hard as a rock. His arousal can easily be attributed to the blood rush and emotions from being angry but truth be told it’s from imaging you in those dresses you were considering. And imagining you in that green dress, letting him take you out and then have his way with you.Your eyes are boring into him with a look he’s never seen before. “Want some help?” 

He nods softly. 

“Can I get verbal consent? Jesus Christ,” you huff. 

“Yeah…yes, I’d like help.” He watches as you slip off your hoodie and kneel like you’ve done this before with him. What a sight. 

“Take your shirt off, Ves. Please.” It all feels like a dream. Vessel is standing before you, rock hard and willing. Your hands rub up his thighs… to his hips…his abs…and he actually caresses your arms when they stretch up to gently play with his nipples. After moving your hands down to remove his pants, you place soft kisses on stomach and around his happy trail. Fuck. This is living. Your arms wrap around to his back as you hold him place, making him whine softly with each kiss. It’s impossible to keep from kissing and caressing your face right below his belly button. It’s unfair how good he feels against your lips and how lovely he smells from his body wash and just…him. As toned as he is, you find a soft spot and gently bite it. You look up expecting him to have his eyes closed but he’s actually staring down at you, biting his lip. It’s too much to bear. It feels like second nature to take his cock in your mouth. You’re lost in the feeling of taking him deeper until you gag softly. When you do, he caresses your hair, asking if you’re ok. His touch is so gentle, but you’re confused when he slowly pries you off his cock and stands you up. You’re about to take off your bralette when he shakes his head and tsks. 

“I need something to hold onto, don’t I?”

You’re unable to answer as he presses a hot, messy kiss against your mouth. He’s quite literally taking your breath away as he wraps his long arms around your body and his tongue prods at your lips. He needs to taste you. He meant to not just enjoy you…but to know you. To know how you like…no…how you need to be kissed. And where you like to be kissed. It’s not enough to kiss you where “everyone wants to be kissed” like your neck and collarbone…he needs to map it out. No one will ever know this body like he does. It’s like his brain has shut down. He doesn’t remember pushing you to the bed and  lowering himself to the floor on his knees as he took off your sweats and panties. But he’s fully lucid when he, without preamble, delicately presses his tongue against your heat for the first time. The sound that comes out of you…my god. He wonders to himself if you’d ever record yourself cumming for him or even let him make a little video sometime. Better yet…he’d just have you every night. 

But that takes time and that’s what he’s doing right now. His tongue is tracing slow circles around your clit as he commits this moment to memory. The feeling of your fingers playing with his hair excites him, makes him feel giddy. He moans softly against your little sweet as he brings it into his mouth. It becomes very clear after a while that he’s chasing your orgasms along with you. 

When he pulls away, he’s  all starry eyed and a little giggly. “Oh…you are divine. Can I do more?”

All you can let out is a pathetic whimper as you catch your breath. He looms over you, wiping you off his mouth. “Can I get your verbal consent, angel?” 

“Please. Yes…please…” you get out as your core aches to feel anything from him again. 

“Look at you. You’ve got a little pulse down there, good girl.” He lets his fingers trace your throbbing clit, but there’s no relief. You whine against his touch. “Made you feel good, huh? Tell me something…how badly do you want to get fucked?”

You whimper softly and roll over onto your tummy for him. No words from you are required when Vessel whispers soft encouragements and makes sure you’re comfy before teasing your cunt one last time with his fingers. “Just put it in, Ves, please.” 

Vessel gently pops your bralette strap against your back and chuckles at your impatience. “No warm up? I didn’t think you’d be this much fun.” Your front lifts from the bed as you moan into the bed, but Vessel smooths his hand down your back.“I know….I know. Just breathe, baby. Open your legs for me a bit more.” He runs his hands along your thighs and presses them into his bed. Like he said he would, he grasps the band of your bralette with one hand as he starts to fuck you. The stretch and feeling of him stroking you from the inside makes you cry out. You realize momentarily who’s fucking you…who’s making you cum. The forbidden idea that the energy between you two could spark both anger and the most palpable lust you’ve ever felt makes you press back against him harder. “Oh there she is,” Vessel grunts out as he lands a sharp spank on your ass. And another.

“Ffffuck. Ag…again. Please.”

“You like that?” Spank. “Such a sweetheart for me.” Spank. “You feel so fucking good…” 

Your head feels fuzzy as his hands melt into your soft skin and his moans become higher pitched. More desperate. He’s saying your name. He’s cumming for you. 

𓍯𓂃

You’re getting in late from a girls night out. It’s unsurprising that the house is dark, but you can hear whatever video game Vessel is playing…and sounding like he’s about to rage quit. His back is to you as he’s hunched over on the couch.

“Ves….” A beat. “VES! Turn that down…or off, preferably,” you huff.

“Tsk yes, mum,” he says smartly, turning the game off and tossing the controller. He wants to be grumpy…but there you were, settling in his lap…in that fucking…emerald…dress. He puts his forehead to your chest and presses sweet little kisses onto it. “Welcome home, angel.”  No, roommates don’t have to be friends.

[daddyhausen]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 7.5k

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

「 GENRE 」 — smut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“not too long now, my love” he reassures.

you give an acknowledging nod, your eyes finally meet the two of your clasped hands. in truth, you had no idea what your husband had mentioned or what place he had acquired for the month. he already had your bags packed for this trip before you had the chance to consummate the marriage. 

“i just wish you would consult me before making such decisions.” 

he releases your hand, not before placing a chaste kiss on the back of your palm

“what consulting would there need to be?  you're my wife now, i don’t want you to worry about such things.” 

“this is not exactly how i planned on spending my honeymoon, is all” 

“darling, have a little bit of optimism for once. trust me, you’ll love the place” 

you chew the inside of your cheek, holding your tongue from spitting any incredulous words in his direction, even if it were to take the remainder of the carriage ride. your husband’s voice fades into the background amongst the scuff of carriage wheels against rock and the whinnies of horses. don’t kid yourself you love your husband, dearly. you wish sometimes he would consider things with you in mind, the wedding venue for example, a lush vineyard in the south of italy, sicily to be exact and while the scenery itself was gorgeous no doubt, you had implored for emilia-romania, finding the cooler climate better suited to your taste, you were never one for dry climates. even then a destination wedding was not the first recommendation on your list, what with elderly grandparents, an ailing father, and an aunt, getting them to the wedding proved more of a chore than anything else. 

you let out a sigh, a short bitter one though your teeth. fingers idly twisting loose strands of lace from your dress sleeve, providing some form of distraction to your husbands incessant ramblings, you did admire his…his conviction, yes…how passionate he was about his business, it all he ever talks about it seems, even before the two of you were wed. 

he’d buy you a house fit for a queen, yet a queen you did not need to be. luxuries did not mean a thing to you, you’d rather have a simple, modest home, with enough room to house yourself, your husband and a couple of children, maybe a pet – a cat perhaps, not a dog…far too excitable. and you’d rather not hear your thoughts echo off empty walls in a cacophonous mockery. 

“stunning isn’t it?” your husband’s voice perked you out of your thoughts. 

“hmm?” you blink, humming absentmindedly.

your husband points outside the window, your eyes follow up his arm to where his finger is pointing. beyond the horizon, just peeking out from behind the hillscape, lays a gargantuan castle, standing tall and proud within a mountain slope, a stone bridge connecting the two paths. the sky darkens upon arrival, clouds almost black, and a ravenous grumble of thunder seems to wash over the landscape, despite neither you nor your husband hearing anything. 

it is surely a beautiful sight, the basalt and calcite pillars seem rooted into the earth, holding up the monstrosity of dark brick and stone. 

“y-yes..it is…” you clear your throat, the castle seems far more imposing now the two of you are sitting in front of it. 

you could see the vines of ivy scattered along the pillars, climbing desperately to reach even the faintest bit of sunlight. oddly…you could relate. 

your husband thanks the driver, tipping him a handsome sum for his troubles, retrieving your baggage from the back of the carriage, you watch him converse with the doorman so effortlessly, confidence comes naturally to him which you can applaud. you’d surely be burning up in anxiety even at the thought. 

taking slow steps outside of the carriage, you peer upward to glance at the towering door before you, sturdy and made of spruce, metal carvings of gargoyles and serpents, encircling a steel door knob. the door itself is held open by the doorman, a warm yet distant smile greeting you, a smile that seems to look past you, not quite fully meeting his eyes. 

you offer him a nod in passing, entering the castle. darkness surrounds you, quite literally, the room encased in blackstone and the basalt leaking in from the external walls. ceiling high and revered, candelabra chandeliers hung by rusting chains with unlit and freshly snuffled candles, that creak every time they swing, so ominously as you walk underneath them as if they planned to drop on you any minute. the entrance remains the same for what seems like miles, a repetition of chandelier and pillar, chandelier and pillar with a suit of armour or decorative painting in between said pillars. 

there is a stench of dust in the air, one that makes your nose itch and your eyes water. you scrunch your nose to be rid of the sensation. 

“well it…” you pause following your husband up the staircase, a hand running over the spiral knob of a dark oak banister, a handprint left in the wake of where the dust used to be. you clear your throat. 

“it's surely been lived in,” you mention, lamenting almost, noticing the spiderwebs glistening under sunlight, almost pearlescent in their colour through the windows. 

“it is an old castle, you can not expect it to be pristine all of the time” he remarks, almost giddy as he examines the intricate spirals and swirls carved into the banister with such expert craftsmanship, it must have taken the carpenter months to complete. 

“but not to worry, darling. i made sure the bedroom is up to your standards” 

-

the bedroom, in truth, is glorious despite how much you want to disagree, the ceilings remain high like the rest of the house, the candelabra chandelier is now lit with warm, glowing wax candles, the bed, a giant thing it is,  a bed frame made from mahogany, with the same spiral signature of the unknown carpenter that had done the banisters,  splayed with a deep maroon bedspread and black velvet throw cushions with lace trimmings to match. you take a seat at the foot of your bed with a sigh, spreading down the sheets with your palm, more so to check if it too is coated in dust.

“are you tired, darling? perhaps you should rest before dinner” 

“i am quite refreshed from the carriage ride, i might have a stroll around the garden if that's all right” 

any excuse to stretch your legs i suppose, and to escape from the dust-ridden closet that was this castle, even for a few moments. 

-

you trudge down the stairs, fists full of your skirts to not dirty them on the dusty wood. you kept a vigilant eye, on the watch for any servants that lurked about, offering you directions to the nearest exit. at the foot of the staircase, you spotted one, an elderly woman, skin pallor and hair white as chalk, matted into some sort of bird's nest, unkempt. her attire is tattered, the skirts of her dress filled with holes, chewed through by moths covered in grime and dirt, yet no stench possessed her, if anything, she smelt…clean. 

“excuse me?” you ask, flagging her down. “could you perhaps direct me to the garden?” 

the servant woman turns to you, pallor skin wrinkled and aged, eyes glassy, cataracts cloud her vision all milky and white, despite this she stares directly at you. she opens her mouth to reveal a toothy grin, a rotten missing-teeth grin to be exact. the sight makes your stomach churn. she hums an unfamiliar tune as she feather dusts a candelabra, revealing the brassy exterior beneath the cloud of dust particles, the candle themselves freshly snuffed, and warm wax melts down the candlestick like cascading rivers, dripping onto her hand, she does not flinch. 

“past the dining area to the hall” she points towards the south with a bony, decrepit finger, long witch-like nails all chipped and broken. 

“thank you.” you respond quickly with a small bow of your head. not wanting to stay engaged in conversation any longer than you needed to. you pass the elderly woman, her eyes seeming to linger on you for longer than you were comfortable, seering through your skull as if she was sizing you up. 

“a pretty thing you are. tell me, have you had children yet? your hips are wide, good for birthing” she taps your hips with the wooden stick of the feather duster.

you are taken aback by the intrusive question, your throat running dry as you are stumped for words. 

“uhh…well no. i’ve only just married you see” despite the awkwardness you try to remain as polite as possible, despite the embarrassment burning on your cheeks and the uneasy sway in your step from foot to foot trying to distract yourself. the old woman simply hums with a nod of her head. 

“the young masters will be satisfied with you” she murmurs. 

you freeze. 

“what?” 

she turns away ignoring you, walking away with maid’s basket in hand, humming that same unfamiliar tune. you are overcome with a strange sense, possible paranoia perhaps? your husband made no mention of any residents living within the castle besides the servants who barely maintained it and why on god’s green earth would your husband even attempt to sell an occupied residential property? no… like you said before, just paranoia, and a strange old, possibly demented woman who still believes the old residents still roam amongst the halls. still, even as the woman walks away with her back towards you, you can feel those milky white irises piercing through you. 

you shake your head to rid yourself of the thought and continue onward to the garden. 

through the dining hall she said, an extravagant room it is, mahogany table that of the bed frame stretching as far as the room is wide, matching chairs with high back, velvet red and embroidered with decaying florals, the table has been left set, cutlery rusted, ceramic plates chipped and broken he cracks repaired with liquid gold despite their fragility. goblets encrusted with rubies and sapphires and emeralds galore, seemed rather strenuous to drink from. they still held stains of red wine around the rims. 

you did not think the house would feel so occupied yet empty. 

a painting caught your attention, plastered above the mantle of the fireplace, it glimmered with an alluring presence, even under drab candlelight. it draws you in, and on bated breath, you admire the two figures within it. both of them are tall,  well above six feet.  masculine, it was very evident. the taller of the two is lankier and thinner, his body shrouded in a grey suit, seemingly stitched to his body, a bushel of deep purple lilacs held in an inky black hand. just like the lilacs present in the field on the carriage ride over. he stands almost as if observing you, proud and cocky.

the second figure is draped in furs of presumably a wolf, his chest bare, specks of it covered with necklaces of silver and white gold. surely that would be a hindrance in the colder months, but then again you assume this was not their usual attire. his body is more defined than the first, and you could help the blush that spread to your cheeks. good god get a hold of yourself, you're a married woman for christ’s sake. you should not be fawning over a painting of two dead men. you shudder at the thought. 

you continue to observe the painting, only to notice that their faces had been painted over with a maroon paint, still fresh as it trickled down the canvas, over their oil painted necks and chest. the paint was very fresh indeed, a metallic stench still lingered in the air as you covered your nose to hopefully mask the smell of it. 

you recall the elderly women mentioning something about young masters, perhaps this painting was of them? you could only assume since it was definitely the most regal looking of all the paintings you’d encountered. how odd, why would their faces be painted out if that was the case? maybe they had done something in their lifetime that warranted the expulsion of their identity? god only knows. 

-

the wind flutters against your skin as you step into the garden, it seems like the only well-kept thing on the entire property, wildflowers grow between your toes, and white hydrangeas and peonies line the garden beds for miles, mixed in with once again, those purple lilacs. hedges carved into shapes of angels and devils, separated on either side, in a constant yet stagnant battle, frozen in time. you pursue forward, feeling the lushness of the shrubbery against your fingertips, how green and alive it felt despite the decay and dreariness of the castle. 

in the centre stands a statue made of marble, a fountain beneath it spraying out spurts of crystal clear water, and stone benches surrounding its diameter. the statue is of a woman, cloaks obscuring her features, much like the two figures from the painting, her identity erased. she seems more objectified. her stance is powerful, a scythe in her right hand, a reaper she may have been. from her back sprouted wings, defiant of the air around her as they stretched proud and wide. she is utterly beautiful. you sit on the stone bench across from her, simply admiring. had she been a real woman whose image was forever immortalised in the stone? maybe she was a lover of one of the masters? the marble around her feet began to decay as if she had made attempts to walk free from the stand she had been put on and for a brief moment, you connect with that. that yearning for escape despite in your right mind knowing there was nothing for you to escape from. you have a wonderful husband who adores you, a modest amount of wealth, not to mention your health. 

there is no need for escape, no need for respite. your life is wondrous, perfect even. still, a sense of dread overcomes you, a coldness that freezes your bones and chills your skin. like ice over a pristine lake. the sensation is eerily similar to the way the woman had made you feel, those eyes boring into your soul, trying to pry the thoughts from your inner psyche. this is…far more intense, those eyes instead burrowing into your mind making a home inside your skull. your skin ripples with goosebumps as your gaze drifts away from the statue, it is not her gaze penetrating you, no. for her eyes are shielded. this gaze was far more sinister, more lustful. your eyebrows knot together trying to decipher whatever this feeling is. 

you look around, surely you were alone, no other occupants seem to inhabit the garden, aside from the bumblebees that pollinate the surrounding flowers. gazing past the statue and the shrubbery you still see no one, how strange…maybe a solitary gardener had just finished pruning the hedges? yet that sensation still fills so…so…ominous…

rising to your feet you smooth down the skirts of your dress, taking a deep inhale to calm yourself. it’s nothing…surely nothing at all. your eyes linger on the hedge line for a moment, a shadowy figure silhouetted in the distance, it blurred by the leaves, standing ever so still amongst the greenery, blinking your eyes a couple of times and then fixating on it again, it was gone,  just like that. you shook your head to once again rid yourself of the thought, your mind just filtered with exhaustion, paying it no mind as you enter back into the castle, feeling the brew of a storm rising, as the clouds lowered and the wind whistled like a sinister threat. 

-

dinner could not have come soon enough, you were simply famished yet, your stomach had rescinded the offer to eat. a wild spread of pheasant and seasonal vegetables towered on your plate, the table scattered with white grapes, and red cherries so sweet the taste dances on your tongue, or so you’ve been told. you haven't had the stomach to try one just yet. crystal goblets carved with the most intricate of patterns, half full of merlot, not to your standards by any means but the taste allowed you some resolve from the swirl of emptiness in your stomach. 

your husband sits across the table from you, so far across the dining hall that you might as well have been eating dinner alone. you watch him shovel food into his mouth, like a man starved, simply unbothered, fixated on it like a wolf on a deer. he paid you no mind in the hours leading up to dinner, he had been busy of course, writing correspondents to back and forth between realtors and clients, a strenuous task. but dear god it’s your honeymoon for christ’s sake, you wished he would pay you a smidge of affection aside from a chaste kiss or a parting waist grab. the silence seems to fill the room, servants wait on hand for the meal to be over and in truth, you did too. you never did cope well with the silence, it allows your mind to fill with things you’d rather forget, like those eyes of the elderly servant, or the invisible ones that preyed on you in the garden earlier, still feeling their coldness burn into your flesh. you shudder in your seat clearing your throat, pushing around the potatoes on your plate with your fork still not eating them. 

“darling whatever is the matter, you’ve barely touched your plate” he speaks still with a mouthful of food, a half-eaten bread roll in one hand and a goblet of wine in the other.

“are you feeling unwell?”

you place your fork down, staring down at your full plate. your stomach grumbles with desperation, ravenous with hunger, yet the thought of bringing food to your lips, makes it churn in discomfort. especially with how paranoid you seem to feel right now. every so often your eyes dart up, seeing if you could catch a glimpse of that servant, or if the painting of the two young masters would have miraculously moved. 

“i am alright. i just don’t have an appetite this evening” it is the half truth. in reality you did have an appetite for something and it certainly was not food. your mind wanders back to the sensation from the garden, even under the invisible gaze you shied away, cheeks blushed with an incredible heat, you felt…insatiable. 

“oh, i'm sorry to hear that my love. whatever is the cause?”

you debate on telling him about the garden, the elderly woman’s words, the painting of the young masters and the way it almost made you melt into a puddle upon inspection. you bit the inside of your cheek, hard enough to break your concentration from such thoughts. you inhale shakily through your nose, an almost silent confirmation to continue. 

“does this castle not seem strange to you?” you ask, picking up your fork again to prod now at the carrots in an attempt to distract yourself. 

“whatever do you mean?” your husband asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“i met an elderly servant today, she mentioned something about her young masters–the ones in that painting behind you i assume..” 

your husband nods his head as if he were listening, confusion is still evident on his features. 

“the way she said it made it sound that they were still alive. now i must have misheard it surely” you continue, prodding at the carrot until the fork spears it. 

“but when i was in the garden earlier, i felt…i felt like i was being watched. this intense sensation washed over me, i could not see anyone yet i felt their presence…” 

your husband nods again, putting down his napkin on his plate after cleaning his mouth. 

“darling like i said before it is an old castle, it was most likely a gardener.” he stands up, straightening his waistcoat. he strides over you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as a form of reassurance. 

“you look exhausted, why don't you head up to bed, i’ll be with you shortly” he offers yet another chaste kiss to your cheek. one that seems to dim the spark of your love for him. it was not enough, and your words weren’t exactly heard. maybe he is right, it is just the exhaustion from two days of long travel. the rest is what you need. 

“alright…” 

he smiles down at you softly. before retreating to the study down the hall, the servants begin hastily clearing the table in silence all before you had even risen from your seat. you stare up at the painting one last time, how their eyes seemed to bore into your soul while being obscured. good god you really needed sleep. 

-

“thoughts still troubling you darling?” 

your husband shuffles into bed beside you, fingers stained with ink from his quill as he pulls back the sheets. your body curled up in the blankets trying to retain the warmth of your body heat that seems to be sucked out by the cold brick of the bedroom. 

“is is odd isn’t it? i felt someone’s eyes on me…” 

“i’m sure it was nothing, just… try and get some sleep.” 

he kisses your cheek turning off the oil lamp on his bedside. despite his presence the bed still felt empty. your husband is a busy man, pleasures of the flesh held no time in his schedule. 

hours pass and the moon high in the sky. your husband's sound asleep beside you, back pressed against yours only heightened the emotional distance you felt, so much for a honeymoon. you only desire, even for one night on this cursed trip to be ravaged by him, taken apart and put back together again in exquisite pleasure. yet he remains asleep, snoring softly into the pillows. 

you try to close your eyes, try to lull yourselves into the depths of sleep. counting backwards in your head, counting bloody sheep yet nothing prevails. the air in the bedroom grew still, a chill present in the air, eerily similar to what it was in the garden. your skin rose in goosebumps, unknowing yet anticipating. your head glued to the pillow, body turned on its side to curl further into the blankets, it would be easier if your husband was not hogging the majority of them. 

and then…a rush of warmth floods your loins, and an unparalleled bout of arousal forms in between your thighs. feeling ever so similar to fingers yet, the only man present was your husband and heaven forbid he would even attempt such a thing. your eyes shoot open, an attempt to sit up only makes your thighs weak. the blankets now shuffled at your feet, back pressing against the headboard of your bed, nightgown tossed above your thighs, cunt slick and wet and exposed to the midnight air. yet you did not attempt to touch yourself for the strange phantom ministrations provide all the pleasure you desire. 

“a pretty dove isn’t she?” a voice calls out from the corner of the room, your head swings around to meet the sound. in the corner, stands two figures familiar yet unknown. immediately, you go to wake your husband, shaking him in an attempt to alert him. yet he remains sound asleep. 

“do not bother, he will not disturb us” the other voice calls out, more delicate in comparison to the other. your body froze, arousal still pooling in your loins as the phantoms of his fingertips ravage your insides. they step out from the shadows, their cloaks billowing in the wind from the open window. your eyes widen….them…oh god god not them….

the two young masters the old woman had told you about. the taller of the two, his stance was more aggressive. white hair was kept short and cropped, still donning that grey suit in the painting. long slender fingers twirl in small circles by his side, and you feel every single movement despite the lack of contact. the other one makes slow strides to the foot of the bed, his muscular frame looming over you, yet he does not attempt to touch you. his face is also masked, yet his mouth is exposed, revealing sharp canines. you gulp thickly shuffling higher against the bed frame, he swiped his tongue against his bottom lip and you swore you could feel the sensation of it running against your clit. 

“she craves pleasure, iii”  

iii, you assume the taller of the two come closer to inspect. dark eyes admire the slickness of your cunt, watching the way you clench around nothing. iii also does not attempt to touch you, his fingers once again make small motions in the air, and you feel your cunt instantly spread, taking in the phantom of him. you stifle a moan, trying to force the intrusion out. 

“she’s desperate”, iii chuckles, the other mirrors this sentiment, stalking around your husband’s side of the bed.

“why don’t you take the lead, vessel? i’ll make sure this one doesn't disturb us”

“what…mmm...what have you done to him…?” you mention to your husband who remains in peaceful, unaware slumber. 

“he sleeps. he is unharmed…” vessel motions, taking in your features, admiring every inch of your figure, each crevice and curve hidden beneath the cotton shift obscured behind the almost arachnid-like mask, six eye-shaped creases replacing the natural two. canines prod out past his lips, through the open mouth of his mask, sharp and intimidating as his tongue flicks over them with ravenous intent. 

your eyes flicker back to your husband, asleep still, in a trance they seem to have put him under while they ravage you with their eyes and phantom fingertips. they still made no attempt to touch you at least not physically, you could not help but let out a moan as vessel stood back, arousal evident beneath his cloaks, ghosts of his hands groping your breasts, a taut feeling rising in your chest, feeling him squeeze the mounds of flesh between his fingertips. iii now decides to inspect, pale eyes accompanying his stare, adoring the way your cunt pulses, dripping with wetness. 

“little bird, you're dripping” although you could not see, his tongue juts out shifting his mask ever so slightly, as he licks his lips, and you could feel this. the small, dainty circles he traces against your clit, the full force as he flattens his tongue against you, drinking you in. you try your hardest to fight back you truly did, even as iii crawled onto the bed, stalking you like a predator would its prey, he keeps his hands to himself, fingertips barely grazing the cotton of your shift tracing over your perky nipples through the fabric. you stifle a breath, mouth going dry. 

“don’t try to fight it. give yourself to us” vessel chimes in, his breath fanning against your neck, warm and desperate. 

it was too overwhelming, the sensation, the overstimulation. your body betrays itself, possessed and giving into the phantom movements of their combined tongues and fingers and other various appendages. this could not be real, it's only a dream, a hideous, frightful dream. you’ll wake up in the morning, in your husband’s arms, body as untouched as the moment you went to bed. 

an intrusion in your throat made itself known, the air rapidly vanishing from your lungs despite the lack of a physical presence piercing the back of your throat with violent thrusts. you could not protest, choking on what could only be described as an invisible battering ram. the intensity rises in your stomach, heightened by their unrelenting persistence, iii swirled his fingers against the bedsheets mirroring the reaction against your clit, vessel hand stroking himself through his cloaks mimicking the ministrations that riddled your throat.

sweetness drips down your shaking thighs, with a mixture of pleasure, uncertainty and regret. although they had not touched you, your body still felt marred by their presence. as your high comes down, they take a step back, eyes stalking, teeth sharp, primed and ready to strike, yet they cease, simply watching you as you drift into peaceful slumber. 

their whispers echo throughout your mind.

“your husband is lost to you. dream of us…only us” 

-

the next morning is met with silence, your eyes sunken and hollow from lack of sleep, your appetite still fleeting despite your stomach’s hunger, this time barely taking small nibbles from the strawberry speared on your fork. as much as you tried to disregard the events of the previous evening, thoughts and memories still prevailed in your mind, the way their hands caressed your body despite the physical contact, how their fingers, tongues, teeth and manhood ravaged you in the best of ways. your thighs clench tightly together under the dining table at the thought. 

“you were tossing and turning an awful lot last night” your husband’s voice breaks the silence, shaking you from your thoughts. your breath hitches in your chest, skin goes clammy and cold. surely he did not hear, he was asleep like iii said he was, even when you tried to alert him he remained dead to the world. your stomach sinks with regret, no- you should not feel regret, those monsters took advantage of you in your most vulnerable of hours, despite the lack of touch, it made your skin itch and burn with shame. 

“just a bad dream is all, do not worry” you respond taking another hesitant bite of the strawberry. 

your husband chewed the inside of his cheek, his eyes not holding the same optimism as the day before, maybe he was just overworked, he did come to bed later than expected last night. 

“well all right then” he stands up from the dining table.

“oh, by the way, darling, i have been called back into town, something about closing a deal on a mansion in south london, i must leave before noon”

“what?” you are stumped by the sudden revelation. getting up and following him up the staircase as the servants once again began to clean the table with haste. 

“and what of our honeymoon-?”

“darling please do not argue with me on this, it is of the utmost importance that i close this deal so that way we can afford that cottage you wanted remember?”

“am i not important to you then? do you just expect me to stay here in this shithole by myself” 

“you watch your tone-!” you are taken aback by his sudden outburst, taking a small step back against the bedroom door. his breath heaving in his chest with frustration. “ no darling, you are important to me-”

“then i’m coming with you” 

“no, please. i’ll only be a couple of days” he begins to re pack his suitcase, which had conveniently been placed atop of the bed, its weight sinking into the plush velvet bedspread. 

“and what do you expect me to do for the time being huh?”

“i don’t know love, find a way to entertain yourself” he places a chaste kiss on your cheek. speeding out the door without a proper goodbye, you're left alone, seated in the silence of the bedroom, lingering thoughts of those two apparitions, monsters of whatever the hell they were in your mind and most definitely in your loins. and their eyes, cold and unloving stare you down, waiting with bated breath in the shadows, marring your skin with lust. 

-

you kept yourself locked in the bedroom for the rest of the day, servants leaving morsels of food left over from lunch and dinner at the foot of the door, plum scented merlot lingers in the air, and your stomach craves it. your body too heavy to lift the covers, to downtrodden in your own anguish to move, even as the moonlight bled through the curtains and their figures appeared through the window left ajar. 

their stares as ravenous as ever, vessel’s especially, canines desperate to gnaw on your flesh, consume you from the inside. their cloaks less formal, iii only adorned in a white dress shirt and a simple pair of linen slacks, vessels attire remains more or less the same, less form fitting you'd say. 

“you two…” you begin sitting up, feeling the warmth already pool in your loins despite your mind objecting to it in every sense of the word. vessel and iii remain silent, keeping their gaze fixated on you

“i’ve felt the two of you…crawling like serpents in my body…”

iii cocked his head to the side, white locks seems so contract against the black of night. his eyes crinkled into a cocky smirk. 

“it is not us” iii begins, taking a step forward towards the bed. “it is your own nature”

“no-! i love my husband-”

“your body says otherwise, little dove” vessel interrupts, pulling the sheets back, your body grows heavy again, locked in place with invisible shackles no matter how much you tried to break yourself free. iii runs his fingers up your exposed thigh, the sensation of him touching one unlike any other, gentle yet dominating. you wonder if vessel felt the same. 

“you are villains- monsters!”

iii’s finger traces even higher, drawing shapes into the skin of your upper thigh, so dangerously close to the axis, to your void of warmth. vessel accompanies him, only his fingers mimic iii’s actions down your chest, just at the lace trimmings where your breasts lay beneath. 

your breath hitches in your throat, a moan stifled underneath. iii and vessel’s ears perk up eagerly at the sound. 

“we are an appetite, nothing more” vessel reminds, fingertips sneaking underneath your shift, gingerly across the valley of your breasts. 

“you are deceivers-mmh-!” you moan despite your words of protest due to iii’s fingers finding your clit, taking solace in how swollen the hidden pearl had become under his touch.

“you deceive yourself” iii muses, drawing harsh shapes into your clit. your fingers tightened around the sheets, trying to ground yourself in reality.

this is all a dream it is not real-!

vessel’s hands grope your breasts, palms pressed firmly against your perky nipples. he leans in, tongue whispering against the shell of your ear as he speaks. 

“your passion is bound to us” his words are sinful, an unholy choir, his fingers, the conductors of chaos as they work their way around your body. 

“you cannot… mhm….you cannot love” your hips roll to the movements of iii’s fingers, now teasing your entrance with slow, intentional strokes. 

their cocks throbbing beneath their cloaks, iii grinds against the mattress, desperate for any form of friction. vessel strains in his shrouds, his size almost pressed against your cheek. your breath heightens, the sensation overwhelming as you try to gather your rationale. 

“we cannot…” iii mutters his voice slightly sombre. “yet…we cannot be satiated without you, little bird” 

vessel’s fingers linger at the straps of your shift, tugging them down with methodical delay. your breasts are now revealed to the midnight air, iii lets out a growl of hunger, ceasing his movements on your clit as he crawls up the bed, inspecting the stiffened buds further. iii begins to untie the ropes of his slacks shuffling them down, his cock slaps against his stomach, warm to the touch, drooling with pre-cum. vessel bares his fangs, canines grazing your skin. 

“you are our affliction…” vessel lulls, his tongue jutting out past his lips to lick the skin of your neck. 

before you can protest, he bites down hard. blood instantly pools in his mouth and he drinks you in reverently, determined and hungry with lust. a gasp catches in your throat and iii, ever the opportunist decides to silence you with his cock, forcing the lengthy appendage down your throat. your eyes well with tears, from the brutal force of iii’s cock and vessel’s teeth combined. your body retaliated, trying to push back yet the wetness still pools in your loins, iii’s fingers still wet with your slick as he holds your head still, hips pistoning his cock in and out of your throat. 

“god…she feels incredible…” iii mentions to vessel who continues to drain your lifeforce, swallowing drop after drop of crimson so much that iii had to remind him to satiate his appetite. 

vessel pulls away, licking up the small droplets of blood, trailing like ruby tears down your neck. your vision faded, they were nothing but blurred shapes clouding your senses. you gasp, ii having pulled out of your throat, to allow you some respite while vessel repositions himself between your thighs, your blood still dripping down his chin. 

“she tastes divine” vessel shudders with pleasure, swiping his fingers against your cunt, gathering the wetness from between your folds and sampling you. the taste of your essence mixed with your blood was nothing short of incredible, like ambrosia for him. iii only wishes he could indulge in you if it weren’t for the mask obscuring his mouth. 

iii’s jealousy spiked at the action, forcing his cock back down your throat, holding his position, adoring the way you gag around him. despite the lack of air, you did not attempt to stop him, the feeling was foreign but oh so wondrous, the air leaving your lungs, dark spots in your vision began to form only to disperse once he started moving again, only faster this time, taking strands of your hair between inky black fingertips, forcing you to take each inch of him. 

vessel is more delicate with his actions, his tongue twirling around your clit, drawing shapes and symbols into the swollen nub, gathering your juices on his tongue. your body feels heated, not sure if for the loss of blood, on the venom his fangs poured into you. either way, you felt elated, weightless, pleasure surging through your veins as you allow them to claim you, painting your body with invisible marks of lust, indentations of where their fingers prodded, tongues licked and palms caressed. 

“a goddess she is…” vessels words are muffled between your folds, lapping up each drop your body secreted. he kisses your inner thighs offering you some respite from the assault of his tongue. 

“i did not think she would take us so easily” iii comments, holding his cock in the back of your throat, almost on the edge of orgasm.

“she is skilled…that bastard is a lucky man indeed”

the two of them continue overworking your body, to the point where your thighs ached, your throat burns with pleasure and your cunt pulses with need. you moan around iii, oddly happy to receive the effort of his labour, pre-cum already mingling with your tastebuds, and you desire more, craved more of him, and of vessel too. 

without warning, vessel inserts two fingers inside you, your cunt welcoming the slender digits, his lips curl around your clit, sucking greedily at the sensitive pearl. 

“she is close…” vessel remarks, engaged in conversation with iii as if you weren't even there. 

“so am i” iii mutters through clenched teeth, his cock throbbing with an unparalleled need for release. 

you gush around vessel's fingers, dripping into the sheets below. his eyes darken, shot blood red as he licks your cunt clean. your throat constricting around iii, his cum pumped into the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow every last drop of him.

“fuck..” iii growls, pulling out of your mouth. 

your mind so fucked out that you did not even recognise that they were repositioning themselves. a mixture of shapes and colours clouded your vision, sensing iii was now behind you, he tugs you up by the hair, bringing his face to your neck, to where vessel had bitten you, inhaling the sweet scent of your blood deeply, a shuddering breath leaving his lips. 

vessel positions himself underneath you, hands groping your waist, juices your dripping cunt down, lower onto his cock. 

“let us ravage you, sweetheart. your body craves it” 

you could not produce words, syllables falling flat on your tongue as your throat burns from iii’s assault. instead of allowing you to speak, vessel kisses you, and the clash of your lips causes a cacophony of emotions to swirl through your mind. lust, hate, regret, disgust. iii from behind mimics vessel's actions, driving his cock into your already full cunt, your walls tight enough as is having to spread and make room for the both of them. and the pleasure…it is instantaneous, arousal swirling in your stomach, both of their cocks prodding out through your flesh. 

vessel breaks the kiss, his movements substantially slower and softer than iii’s. despite his masked features, he gazes into your eyes, drowning you in a sea of emptiness, a void unknown. a hand delicately comes up and cups your cheek, smoothing gentle circles into the skin with his thumb. 

“you shall be one with us for all eternity…mmhm…do you swear it?” his voice was like honey in your ears, a far cry from the ravenous, violent grunts of iii behind you.

your mind draws blank, empty and fucked out with pleasure. 

“do you swear it, little dove?” vessel repeats.

“i swear it…” you repeat the phrase like a mantra, perhaps in the hopes to actually have it come to fruition. vessel smiles a toothy, vampiric grin, placing another delicate kiss to your lips. 

a far cry from the chaste, almost platonic kiss your husband left you with. and it broke your heart to think so. yet as of now, your mind is preoccupied with pleasures of the flesh, the way these hellish creatures worship your body, and crave your presence even for just a moment. the missing piece to their unyielding lust. 

iii fills you, unannounced and your body is unprepared for the visceral reaction. his cum leaking out of you like a faucet, dripping down your inner thighs and coating vessel’s hips. 

“oh gods…” iii grumbles, his cock softening within you, still keeping you plugged and full of him. 

vessel chuckles softly. 

“pay him no mind, he just adores you so” 

iii hovers over you, nuzzling his face into your sweat-slicked shoulder blades. 

“you ours now, pretty bird” 

vessel grew closer to release, his cock throbbing inside you warmth. you lean into him, lean into the feeling of him as warmth spreads throughout your body. their cum mingles with yours, filling your womb with their unholy spawn. as vessel softens inside you, the two of them hold your body close, allowing their combined releases to incubate inside of you. 

“our angel…” iii begins, breathless pants ravaging his breath.

“you are to remain in this castle, forevermore. your husband is a stranger to you now. the only men who will be able to satisfy your desires will be vessel and i” 

vessel smirks into your neck, kissing the place where he had bitten.

“what do you say little dove, care to be ours forever?”

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

[tempered-grace]

in a darker universe, vessel wears crocs for every performance

[yandere-wishes]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨⋆White Roses Black Doves⋆୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⭒⌒★ Yandere!Sleep Token x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 ♡ ｡ ゜  

｡ ₊°༺Nothing Good Ever Happens After 2 AM ༻°₊ ｡

⋆｡˚ᶻ ᶻ 𝗓 ᶻ 𐰁˚｡⋆ Vessel

There's an ache behind his eyes, a potent decay from within. Vessel blinks trying to subside the pain, the biological furor of reason. The celestial glare of the vending machine doesn't help, then again it's hard to feel anything but pain when you've foregone sleep for just a little over two weeks. The kaleidoscopic of options lobotomizes his brain, Monster or Red Bull? Carrion or cruor? He's about to claw at the keypad when he hears the familiar thing approaching. He can't help but be reminded of supernovae when he sees you, diaphanous little star killing herself from within, burning, and molting until there's nothing left to neither hurt nor hold.

Vessel loves watching as you bleed fatigue, bloodshot doe eyes pried open by phantoms, and yet he can still taste the innocence reflected in your cornea. "Same as always?" he asks, already stepping aside as you press tenderly on the decrepit eight. You eat KitKats like you're smoking a cigarette. Vessel finds it a tad too hilarious, a morbid joke. He'll be long dead from the poisonous vapor he inhales like oxygen and you'll be standing over his grave smoking sugar and coco beans. He licks his lips as he stares at your fingers, slender, shaky. He wonders what the marrow would taste like erupting between his teeth. "Rough day?" he mutters as he sinks down beside you. You only ever look at him, too shy to speak. That's fine, he thinks, he'll coax out that pretty voice someday. Behind you, the vending machine stirs a light mechanical hum like a choir hymn. You hand him the last piece before disappearing into the night. Vessel's eyes follow you until you're engulfed by the darkness, he'll see you here again like clockwork. Prayers of gratitude spill from his lips as he waits for morrow night.

♡꩜♡꩜♡ II

He's seen this scene before. Enshrined it in fact. Watched you until your essence engraved itself behind his eyes. He's memorized the ice cream you like, which foot you use to cross the threshold. The gentle jolt of your body as you slide open the freezer door. The clock strikes midnight and Cinderella appears with dark bags under her eyes to match the ebony paint he wears like an oath. ii watches as you lean over the freezer, face greeting the hoar.

His fingers twitch longing to sink into the plush of your hips, to entwine through your silky hair as they push you further into the frost. He'll trail kisses across your neck as you suffocate. Bite your jawline playfully and mar the gossamer flesh. Body pressed to yours, impaling your stomach on the freezer's edge. He'll say he loves you, because he thinks he does, or maybe there isn't quite a word to describe this emotion. This enthralling all-encompassing obsession etched deep within his bones. You're frozen in his thoughts, the little princess that roams the convenience store he likes to haunt. What do you call it when someone is imprinted upon your soul? When their essence is more familiar to you than your own? ii reaches for the same ice cream, letting the frost sink in like a kiss. When your fingers grace his, he interweaves them like a vice.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- III

There's something endearing about the emptiness, the void.

How the space continues to function even when the crowds have gone home. The lights, the pop songs, the machines, they all continue to dance even when the crowds have gone home. iii weaves between the games looking for something to pass the time. It's rejuvenating, he thinks, breathing without the panoptic. When you live in the limelight -no matter how hard you try to remain anonymous- you still leave all your pieces amongst the public. Forgetting how to fill your whole husk when the spotlight wears off.

The first time iii sees you he's nothing short of annoyed. He'd thought he'd get the place to himself. No screaming teens or crying kids, but your presence proves a complication even if you've yet to register the man behind you. He peers at your reflection smeared across the glass, sees you trying to ensnare a rabbit within the claws, your eyes closing for milliseconds in between only to reopen to the rabbit having plummeted once more. "Here let me help you" he offers. And truly at first he had meant it, an innocent act brought on upon both wanting to win the game and wanting to be rid of you. But the way your body slacks against his as he pushes against your back. The way your tiny hand fits so perfectly in his as he helps you navigate the joystick. You're perfume wafts over him, floral, dainty, like walking through flower fields at midnight. It takes three more tires before he wins you your rabbit.

But he doesn't stop there. iii drags you to the other games, enjoying how malleable you are within his hands. He notices how you can't help falling asleep no matter what you're doing. He wonders why you're here, amongst the neon lights and prizes instead of tucked away in your bed. By the time the sun has risen, iii's won you one too many prizes that you struggle to carry in your arms. He follows you back home, making sure to keep to the alleys and walls. It's so you don't get hurt he assures himself, but deep down he knows he just can't let you go. He's always had trouble with parting, wishing to keep everything locked away with this ribcage. Safe and sound. You've started to find plush animals outside your apartment door. Always with a morbidly painted guitar pick strung around their necks. You used to take them straight to your bed, giggling at your secret admirer. You'd give them names while inspecting the pick, wondering who you knew who played guitar. But recently you've started to notice crimson specks across the dolls. People have been missing, people you know and love. The crimson spots only keep growing…

˙✧˖° ⋆｡˚ IV

He feels you like a marble balancing on his tongue. Cold until it's corrupted by his heat. Your eyes are always open, but they never seem to see. IV wraps his arms around you pulling you closer as the movie screen flashes with some creature feature. He's found that you're happiest when he lets you out of the house. When his presence is lost amongst the outside world. Still, IV is ever cautious he knows how easy it would be for you to slip away. He's taken every precaution taking you outside only at night and usually to the cinema, usually, the ones that run old movies till the brink of dawn.

IV's mask nuzzles into your side, you only let out a low groan. It's always so hard for him to tell if you're awake or not, your brain seems to be perpetually elsewhere. IV grabs your chin, forcing your attention on him. "Darlin" he hisses, all warning and toxin. "Yes," you mutter like your mouth is filled with medicine you refuse to swallow. He pushes his mask above his lips, before sealing you in a kiss. All teeth and tongue like he's trying to devour you. You push on his shoulders at first, trying to break free, but when futility settles in, you give up, letting him take over. IV's fingers squish into your cheeks, his kiss deepens, ravenous, hungry for his stubborn little girl. You feel like you're drowning, letting the sea monsters devour you. Funny how the only place you'll ever be free of him is when his dear deity Sleep takes you away.

The screen overhead gleams in black and white, the monster has captured the girl, and the hero is nowhere in sight.

🎀Taglist: @blvckmvgicwoman @pastlivesxpastlie @enchantingarcadecreation @bloodmoon-bites

[prettypinkporkchop]

Bite Me

Vessel x f!reader

Description: Sleep token started to work with you for helping them write their songs. You have a studio in your basement, which the band comes to use for the night. You and Ves do NOT get along... until you do.

Warnings: sexual, language, ves is daddy, IV cockblocks yo

The lights flicker as the thunder grows rougher. You close your book and toss it across your bed,letting out a sigh. You lean over and pull your phone off the charger. The screen turns on, and you see that Vessel had messaged you. You're confused because you both hate each other. He only texts to ask questions about upcoming studio dates. You guys don't have any more until a few months.

You open the message and realize it's a series of texts.

Vessel: sorry. Not interested.

Wrong person.

Don't ask annoying questions.

You raise an eyebrow and ignore it.

---

The next morning, you sit on the couch and watch TV. Your phone starts ringing. It's ii. You answer it. "Yes?" You ask.

"Sorry to bother you! Would it be okay if the band comes to use your studio?" He asks.

"Sure!" You reply.

You guys end the phone call, and you just chill and wait for them. While waiting, it starts to storm again. You groan, realizing it's bad enough that you could lose power.

Within a few minutes, the whole gang walk inside in a hurry, a bit wet from the rain.

"Phew! Thanks for letting us use your basement for a few hours." iii says with a smile.

"No problem! Just don't leave a mess. Also, we may lose power soon, so use your time while you can." You smile back and then return to your phone.

The guys scramble to your basement. Not even 30 minutes later, the power goes out. All you see is black and small flashes from the lightening through the window.

"Perfect." You mumble.

The door going to the basement opens, and the guys step out with their phones lights on.

"Bummer." IV chuckles.

"Sorry, guys.. we'll try again in-", you try to speak, but everyone's phone goes off. You check your phone and see a tornado warning. "Perfect." You mumble again.

"I'll light some candles. Would you mind if we stayed here until it passes?" iii asks, moving to the candles you have set out, pulling out a lighter from his pocket.

"I don't mind at all. It'll make me feel better, too. It's too dangerous to be on the road. You guys can pick who gets the spare room and the couches in here." You giggle.

"Yeah, I'd rather get sucked into the tornado than stay here longer than I intended." Vessel says.

"Good for you. You get the couch then." You deadpan.

"If you two start bickering again, I'm going to bed. I call the spare bedroom." ii snorts.

iii gets all of the candles lit. It sends a small bright orange tint in the living room and kitchen. He sighs and sits on the couch. Everyone turns off the flash on their phones.

"Alright, I'm gonna go to bed." You stand up and walk into your room.

You pass out for a few minutes but wake up to loud thunder that shakes your bed. "Shit." You hiss. Your throat is dry, so you make your way out into the hall to get into the kitchen. But as you close your door, you bump into a body.

"Watch it." Vessel hisses.

"Why're you up?" You ask with attitude.

"Can a man pee without being questioned?" He starts to walk to the kitchen.

You follow because you need some water. "What were the texts about?" You ask, opening the fridge.

Vessel scoffs and sits at the table. You turn to face him. The candles light up just enough to where you can see his face.

"Of course you'd ask. A girl texted me. I wasn't interested." He crosses his arms.

"Okay." You chug the water.

"Thirsty?" He snickers.

"Bite me." You toss the bottle into the trash can.

"Dare me?" He smirks.

You sigh and start to walk away. He gets out of the chair and grabs onto your neck, pushing you into the fridge.

"Say it again." He threatens.

His face is close. You're getting nervous. You can feel his breath against your lips. He smells so heavenly. His hand on your neck slightly turns you on.

"Bite me."

He smiles before bringing his hand to your jaw, pushing your head to the side to give him your full neck. He leans in and gently bites your skin.

You gasp and out of instinct, and without thinking, you grab onto his waist. Your thumbs are on the sides of his abs.

He pulls away and looks over you. "You want me, don't you?"

You do. You always have, even though he's a dick to you. But you know this won't mean anything to him. He's going to push you to the side after you give in. You're just another girl he can get with. You wiggle your way out of his arms and look over him with shock. Just as you do so, the lights cut back on. "I.. better turn off the lights so that they don't wake up in there." You point toward the living room.

Vessel nods his head and stands in place. He watches you move around to the living room and switch off the lights.

You go back into the kitchen and blow out the candles. You walk over to the stove and turn on the small light underneath it. You ignore Vessel and begin to make your way back into the hallway. You walk into your room but you hear him follow behind you.

"You didn't answer my question." He closes the door behind him.

You sit down on your bed and look up at him. "You don't like me." You reply.

"You think so?" He crosses his arms and smirks.

"You're arrogant, cocky, and so mean to me! You know you're irresistible, and you can get anyone you want! But I'm not a toy, Vessel." You watch his face straighten out from his smirk.

Vessel steps in front of your legs that dangle from the side of your bed. He bends down to reach your level. He looks up at you with soft eyes. "I don't know how to love properly. You scare me." He whispers.

You're taken aback. Is he admitting he's had feelings for you? What a weird way to show them.

"I haven't been with anyone since I laid my eyes on you last year. I am disgusted by other women who aren't you."

"What made you have a change of heart tonight?" You ask shyly.

"The song we were working on before the lights went out, I wrote thinking of you. When you said, 'bite me', I lost my mind." His hands grab your outer thighs. His thumbs rub your skin.

His touch sends fire through your soul and mind. You reach to put his face in your hands. You run your thumb over his bottom lip. His eyes remain on yours, letting you do what you want at the moment.

"Bite me." You smile.

He smiles as well, chuckling darkly. He pushes you back onto the bed and hovers over you. You can't help but wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. His hand grabs under your thigh and pushes it down.

"Needy." He breathes on your neck. His tongue meets your collarbone and slowly makes its way up to your jaw. His kisses your neck softly before biting on your skin again.

His simple touches already send you into bliss. He hasn't even done much yet, and you're already mushy in your head. You lean back and softly whimper as he sucks on your skin.

He lets go of your skin and looks down at you. You see a whole change in the way he looks at you. He bends down and kisses you. His lips play with yours as you begin to push further and shove your tongue in his mouth.

He breathes in deeply through his nose and grabs your throat with a small pressure. His hand grabs your boob through your shirt.

You can feel his boner against your thigh, which you decide to take advantage of your position and buck your hips against him.

He groans and moves his hand down to your waist, pushing your body down against the bed to keep your still. "Fuck.." He pulls away from your lips.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Are you awake?" It's IV.

"Y-yeah.." You say.

Vessel sighs and moves to sit next to your heavy breathing body.

"The storm blew over. Do you know where Ves is?" He asks.

Before you can say anything, Vessel yells, "Yeah! I'm in here trying to make her feel good. Leave without me."

You blush and cover your face.

The footsteps slowly walk away from your door.

[the-summ0ning]

Sleep Token HC: being in a relationship with vessel

Hello, I hope you like my final HC for Ves. Fluff elements with highly NSFW ideas. 🤠 I’m always open to HC requests as well 🤭

Vessel, vessel, vessel—where do we begin?

Vessel the bf that is so deeply profoundly in love with you

If he could he’d rip his heart out of his chest for you and just hand it to you, he would.

His love languages would be words of affirmation and physical touch

He often battles with icky thoughts of himself, and you’re his ever radiant light in his bleakest days, so he would go out of his way to make sure it was known

Notes everywhere around your house, even a month and half into tour, you keep finding them

Praises in your medicine cabinet, crumbled pieces of paper at the bottom of your bags bc he know you won’t find them right away. Little Sonnets on your desk or on the fridge just so you know how much you are loved by him

Once you stopped finding them around the house or in your things, he’d start sending flowers or treats with love notes attached. Just because gestures especially if the night before you told him what a long week it was and knew you were struggling

You have so many of these notes, post its, scraps of paper you’ve compiled them in a scrapbook/binder and it’s on your bookshelf now

Texts for when you wake up reminding you to take your meds/vitamins, and to keep up with your water intake—voice memos too

Honestly he’d send you voice memos all the time like it was your own little podcast

Having black paint smeared on you because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself

Or would want you to apply his body paint before a show. Squirming underneath your fingers as you apply it because of your featherlight touches, listening to his quiet hisses when you’d go too low and gentle

“We’re not going to make it out of this dressing room if you keep doing that, love.”

Vessel would love to be big spoon, having you tucked underneath him or your back against his chest. Tracing patterns on your arms, hips, and thighs

He always loomed around you, everyone knowing if you were there, he was somewhere lurking around 95% of the time. He was a quietly protective man.

Coming up when you were talking with friends at an event, a comforting squeeze to the nape of your neck and a drink to quietly check on you

Wearing one of his extra robes backstage. It was so big and light, perfect for the hot and humid venues, a great blanket tbh where you could use the hood to cover your face

There’s a folder in his phone dedicated with pictures of you in many spaces of the venues they played just sleeping with his robe over you

Also the amount of videos of you two just frolicking around backstage, helping him with dance moves whilst in his robe that dragged on the floor, nearly tripping on it, when you wore it because it was so long on you

You liked to go into the crowd during the shows, enjoying the atmosphere of fans. Vessel would get a kick out of that, and you two would make it like a game almost

Instantly being able to spot you in the crowd through the lights and smoke. Always looking in your direction to lowkey serenade you and do little inconspicuous moves directed for you. In return, you’d run your hands through up and down your body swaying your hips to his voice. His own little siren in the sea of people

He loved watching you jam tf out with the fans so careless in your own world dancing with everyone or receiving bracelets from the fellow concertgoers (he would panic slightly watching you try to go into the mosh pit every time tho, one time he actually had to send a member of the crew to discreetly retrieve you.)

I imagine vessel being codependent af, and the simplest of tasks you were always requested to tag along

groceries, pharmacy trips, picking up takeout—he needed his emotional support person. Bribing and rewarding you with little treats to lure you with him thinking you’d say no how could you he’d hit you with the puppy dog eyes I just know he’s master at that

Staying up or waking up to listen to his late night rambles/dreams/conspiracies tucked under his arm while sharing a joint or bottle of spirits

Or sitting beside him as he wrote song lyrics, quietly running them by you for your opinion. You just blinking slowly in awe with what his mind created unable to provide the input he wanted

I thinks it’s a mutual consensus among us: Vessel loves to bite. He can’t help his carnal primal urge to. He does it with his friends, you… Everyone had a mark from him at this point

I don’t imagine him being into quickies (unless he was absolutely throbbing and thirsting for you) this man would take his time. Setting the pace all during the day teasing you

He loved nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, pressing kisses below your ear and whispering the filthiest things to get you flustered

“You look so good right now, I could take you right here.”

“I can’t wait to get you home and be deep inside you later, doll.” He would murmur, his hand squeezing your hip pulling you back into him feeling his already hardening length pressing in the soft flesh of your ass

Then when it finally happened, he goes at a nearly agonizing pace—he wanted to worship you. He didn’t like to fuck, he liked to make love.

intense and passionate, hips slowly rolling into you up til you were full of him. And he kept hitting that spot that made your eyes see stars and lulled to the back of your head.

He was not shy about how he felt, always moaning and praising you, but wasn’t too loud. Vocal fry as he quietly moaned about how good you made him feel

“You’re squeezing me so well,” rasping out, trying to look at where your bodies connected, resisting the urge to close his eyes

“Fuck, you look so pretty under me.”

He’s 100% a morning sex person

Not even letting either of you have a chance to get out of bed, one hand slipping down your front rubbing you softly while the other gripped your throat to turn your face so he could slowly kiss you—devouring your mouth with his—all in a blissed out half sleep stupor

Hehe, I woke up from my nap and chose violence horniness, sorry. Anyways thanks for the support and all the love on these 🫶🏻✨

[badomensgoodomens]

Hiii can I ask for a smutty request between vessel x reader, maybe reader is feeling down about vessel having to leave to tour soon so vessel takes care of her and its passionate and loving 🥰🤍

SLEEPTOKEN -VESSEL (smut)

not as loving but very passionate lol (my bad)

content warning: p in v, fingering n cunnilingus, overstimulation

smut is not my strong suit don't come for me.

_____________________

You woke up feeling ridiculously melancholic. Tomorrow V was supposed to leave for tour with the boys, you didn’t want him to leave, ofcourse. That was your man, and you were gonna do everything in your power to stop him from leaving-

“Stop thinking about it.” 

His voice breaks you out of thought, you were currently perched on the end of the bed in your undergarments. You two had a heated night last night, and were too exhausted to put clothes on. 

You shake your head, mumbling a soft “i’m not.” he sighs, shifting to sit next to you. “Ill be back before you even know it.” he says, kissing your warm shoulder. You shrug him off. 

“Don’t be like that, love.” 

You glare at him, a soft pout gracing your lips. 

“Lose the attitude.” he grumbles, gripping your chin. 

Your brows furrow, instinctively you turn away from him. His hand reaches for your neck, pulling you back to him. 

His head dips down to kiss your soft lips, tightening when your head chases his. Its a clash of teeth and moans. He pulls away, running his thumb along your bottom lip. 

“Let me show you…”

He drags you up the bed by your hips.

“How much i love you.” 

______________________________________

His hips snap up against yours, agonisingly slow. He was doing a great show of making love to you, savouring every moment. You whine, frustrated at the lack of movement. 

“m’ sorry baby.. You feel sooooo good.” he breathes out, head nestled into the side of your neck, small kisses pressing up to your jaw. 

You tug on the soft tufts of his hair, craving- no. needing more. “Fucking hell v. pick up the pace” you hiss, trying to work yourself up and down his cock. 

“I love it when you wear these.” he groans, fiddling with the strap of the emerald green bra you were wearing. “So fuckin pretty.” he whispers, watching the bra fall away from your skin. He had pulled your matching thong to the side in a hurried, horny, frenzy. 

He picked up the pace, the room filling with skin slapping and moans. 

Fuck. 

Neither of you were gonna last long after this. 

He pressed soft kisses down the valley of your breasts, basking in the scent of your skin. The smell of your moisturiser making him dizzy, sending the blood in his body straight down to his dick. 

He made quick work flipping you over, driving his cock in and out, shoving a pillow beneath you. 

“So fucking pretty.” he breaths out, head next to your ear. “All fucking mine.” 

He lets out a guttural moan as his hips begin to stutter. 

“Mm… fuck im gonna cum-” 

He makes an absolute mess of himself, biting onto the skin of your shoulder as he releases. He collapses against you, panting heavily. But oh no, he wasn’t finished with you. 

“Turn over. Gonna make sure you savour every drop.” 

He presses kisses from your soft tummy down each thigh, leaving bite marks. He gently fingers you, savouring the feeling of your insides. 

“Fuck.. all this just for me?” 

Your head is thrown back into the pillows, a mess of moans. 

His pace quickens, his other hand coming to rub up on your clit. Your whole body shakes with pleasure, strings of moans leaving your mouth. He admires you from down below, watching the sweat trickle down the valley of your breasts, and how your core shudders. 

“You gonna send me photos….

His fingers work quickly to make a mess of you. 

“And videos huh?” he says, watching his knuckles bury deep within you. He pauses when you don’t respond. You whine immediately, trying to work yourself up and down his fingers. He holds your hips down. 

“Answer me.” he snaps, gripping your thighs tightly.

“I promise.” you whine out. His head dips down, you were NOT gonna last long. He pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you, using his tongue and finger combined to eat you out in the most substantial way. Your body shook of overstimulation, your hands struggle against his as you try to push him away from your clit. “V-” you cry out, “cmon baby, just one more. I promise.” he whispers against your skin, you whimper and cry. “Cmon, sweet girl, i’ll take care of you.” 

That nickname was enough to snap the coil building inside you. He works you through your final orgasm, kissing your swollen lips. 

“Shh… shh.. You’re okay.” he whispers, holding you as you shake. He wipes the tears from your eyes, holding you together. 

“Did you like that?” he whispers, pulling you close to him in the dark. 

You nod, panting. 

“I like being able to take you apart and put you back together.” 

_______________________________________________

“You still mad…?” he asks, after gently cleaning you up and fetching you water. You shake your head. “Just gonna miss you.” 

He frowns, pulling you impossibly close.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Imagine laying your back against Vessel’s chest completely naked on the bed while he touches you 🥴 (his fingers/hands have me in a chokehold)

I don’t think that I’ve ever written smut for him but jesus I think I just ruined myself writing this… I don’t know who possessed me.

Warning: smut obviously bring tissues for your vagina. 😂

Chased pleasure

“Spread them open, baby”, Vessel mussed against your ear. His hands reached from around you, moving your thighs further apart making you whine from the soreness. You two had already been fucking for hours prior. Too lazy to move and do anything you had stayed in bed naked and just put a random show on Vessel’s laptop. Just it didn’t last long. With the view of your naked form pressed against him, Vessel had been hard in the blink of an eye. And what started with him softly kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples had now turned into your pushing back against him as you moaned.

“Look how pretty”, he lifted his finger from between your legs, the mix of both his cum and your arousal coating his long fingers. That alone made you throw your head back as you reached for his wrist bringing his fingers to your mouth, sucking on them. “You dirty little whore”, he grunted, bucking his hips against your back as he pushed his fingers all the way down your throat making you gag. “Such a horny little thing”, he muttered, “Gonna make you cum again do you want that?” You nodded already dazed, feeling the wetness pooling between your open thighs.

“I need words, baby”, leaning forward Vessel bit onto your shoulder, pinching your nipple between his fingers. “I want your fingers so bad, let me cum on them please”, you whimpered, grinding against the sheets desperately. “Put them where you want them, baby”, Vessel chuckled, “Show me what you want”. The way you yanked at his wrist made him let out a smug laugh. But you were too needy to care. Holding onto his two middle fingers you pushed them up and down your fold, coating them in arousal, before slowly sinking them in, thighs shaking as your boyfriend's long thick fingers spread your gummy walls once more.

“Vessy… ahh… baby fuck”, you whimpered, throwing your head back against his chest as you thrusted your hips alongside his movement. “Such a good girl, two at once”, he muttered, “someone’s needy”, he watched as you pushed his palm flat against your walls and he didn’t hesitate to curl his fingers upwards, “ahh oh ahh”, whimpered, already feeling your orgasm built from all the stimulation you had previously. “Fuck you’re tight even after all the times I fucked you”, Vessel whispered. “Move them… fuck me… do something”, you pleaded, moving your hips but not getting the friction you so definitely needed. “Desperate little minx”, he muttered pumping his fingers in and out slowly, “sheets all wet because of you”. You simply nodded no longer sure if you needed to answer him or not, your body in need of one thing only.

“Add a third one”, you cried out, and it’s as if something snapped in Vessel then. His fingers gripped your thighs throwing them over his legs as he spread you open. “Better hang on tight”, he nibbled at your ear before plugging three fingers into you, the stretch painfully delusion as his other hand came up to move his finger over your clitoris, “my god”, you sobbed, pulling your legs closer together. “Open up or I’ll stop and you won’t cum”, he clipped and you instantly followed his direction. His movements picked up once more, the sound of your juices gushing between Vessels's fingers filling the room. “Cum”, he grunted, “cum and make a fucking mess”, his teeth sank into your shoulder as he curled his fingers hitting your g spot each time. “Vess”, you moaned out, pushing at his hand as the knot finally snapped, gushes of your arousal coating his hands and thighs, as you bucked into him. “Good fucking girl”, he praised you still pumping his fingers in and out, watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, nails no doubt leaving marks on his wrist. He only pulled out once the warm pulsing of your walls eased. You whimpered at the sourness, tears of pure bliss running down your cheeks. “I can’t… I can’t close them”, you whimpered. Vessel leaned in kissing your shoulder lovingly as his hand ran up and down your thighs, “I’ve got you, baby”, he mused, carefully pushing your legs back together as you whimpered in discomfort, pressing them as close as possible now. “Too much?”, Vessel kissed the side of your head, bringing you closer to his chest. “Just need a moment”, you shook your head, looking up at him with dazed eyes. “You did so good, made me so proud”, he leaned in kissing your lips, trying to fight the urge to fuck you in the shower later on already.

[fritz-federleicht]

Stage experience/ Vessel x reader

Summary: You just wanted to put a full water bottle under his keyboard during the gig.

Words: 914

You travel a lot with the band. At first it was just because you wanted to be close to your boyfriend Vessel to make sure he's okay while touring. But it quickly became clear that you were the go-to person for everything. You take care of some of their social media, do small tasks during set-up and make sure the guys feel comfortable.

This includes their performances. As always, you stand backstage and watch the stage from the side. Everything goes as planned, the show is perfect. Your boyfriend jumps across the stage like Bambi, fooling around with the others.

However, you notice from your position that his water bottle, which he has placed under the keyboard because of his strained voice recently, is almost empty. Which is not unusual considering the concert is already halfway through.

A low hum escapes you. You grab a full bottle and enter the stage without attracting attention. You sneak past behind II and his drums to Vessel's keyboard. You quickly place the new bottle of water to make your way off the stage unnoticed.

Well, not if Vessel has his way. He's spotted you. Like a predator, he's set his eyes on his prey and approaches you with long, graceful strides.

As you straighten up, you realise that your attempt to sneak on and off the stage unnoticed has failed. Vessel's attention is completely on you.

From the way he approaches you as if you were his everything, you can imagine that he's ready to flirt with you in front of the roaring crowd.

He won't kiss you on stage, you know that for sure. He would never reveal an insight into your relationship to the public. And definitely not a hint about his identity.

Your boyfriend gets closer and closer until he holds out his large hand, dipped in black body paint, for you to take.

You look at him a bit uncertain as you can see past him at the large crowd. He replies with a warm smile only you can see because his back faces the audience and wiggles his slender digits.

Eventually you grab his hand, and a roar fills the venue. Vessel guides your fingers to his lips before gently bending his torso in front of you as if asking for a dance.

A grin creeps onto your lips and before you realise it he's placed his hands on your hips and turned you around in his arms. A surprised noise escapes from your mouth.

You look ahead, into the sea of faces and phones eagerly filming the whole experience. Your breath catches. All eyes are on you and the charming man who looks like a god in his costume. He looms behind you, hovering like an intimidating guardian.

A low growl escapes him next to your ear that is only meant for you to hear. Vessel pulls your back closer to his bare, toned chest and allows his hands to roam gently over your sides. Finally, he snakes his arm around your waist. His free hand finds its way up to your chin. Gently guiding you, he tilts your head back until you rest your head against his broad shoulder.

He looks down at you and starts to sweep the pad of his thumb fondly along the curve of your lower lip. Which causes you to part your lips instinctively.

People scream excitedly in response and you want to turn your head towards them. To look at them. But you can't. Vessel holds your chin firmly yet gently between his fingers. You're trapped in his arms. Almost like before every show, when he won't let you go until the last possible second.

In the corner of your eye, you see III's slim figure and you can literally imagine his big grin under the mask.

Your gaze shifts back to Vessel, who now slowly slides his index finger down your throat. He brings his hands back to their original position on your hips and gives you another gentle squeeze. A silent thank you. Then he pulls away from you with an small smile in your direction and strides with swift, elegant steps to his mic to make sure he doesn't miss his turn.

For a moment, you stand perplexed in front of the keyboard. You watch as your boyfriend reverently holds the mic with one hand while singing and slowly slides his fingers up the microphone stand with the other.

Nobody pays attention to you anymore. Vessel holds the crowd spellbound, has them wrapped around his finger. And this fact alone impresses you. The ease with which he manages to attract the attention of the entire crowd.

The thought of what task you actually wanted to fulfil snaps you out of your thoughts. With a gentle smile on your lips, you head backstage, past II.

Behind the blind, you glance down on yourself. Black body paint sticks to your hands and clothes. And you're sure you've got some on your chin and throat too.

But you're used to it. Vessel's lack of patience would have left stains on you anyway. He just can't help but feel you before he showers the dirt and sweat from the show off his body.

You decide to enjoy the performance further and not to clean yourself now. He'll mark you as his again in his own way anyway.

[dewracle]

So you've very likely seen the video/gifs of Vessel just sitting down in Manchester, leaned back on his hands, relaxing for a minute. I can't be the only one that that that was sexy af, man is in the perfect position for the best head of his life. Sooo maybe reader should provide it for him :D Please! m/f/gn any of it is fine by me. Something to add to your drabble list perhaps?

GOD! I got so into this request! I've been craving him ever since- thank you for the request! I'll take them all!

Manchester - NSFW Drabble

PAIRING - Sleep Token Vessel x GN! Reader Masterlist - Drabble On Ao3!

Vessel was a cocky man at times, he knew his body was attractive to you and the fans. He noticed after Manchester how utterly obsessed you became with him when he sat down. At first, it didn’t seem to click with him to what exactly you were thinking. Not until you let out a breathy moan at the sight of him still fully dressed in stage clothes, leaning back against the couch, legs spread just slightly. 

“You like this?” He smirked, purposely spreading his legs wide enough for your body to fit. “I’ve seen the fans drool, but you?”

His words flustered you red, eyes wide as you stuttered to produce a cohesive thought. After all, he has caught you mid-fantasy, your tongue lapping at his thick cock, playing with the piercing you had heard him talk about. 

“Tour has been long, okay?” You shot defensively, the small embarrassment leaving you feeling vulnerable. 

With a small tilt to the head, Vessel did his best to show the “really now” expression on his face. He pursed his lips, the line from his water bottle removing the paint catching your eye. You shudder, remembering how not that long ago he spit on the crowd. Why couldn’t you be there instead of stuck behind the scenes? 

Vessel looked around the green room, thankful they had taken a moment to relax before leaving the venue. He nodded to the door with a soft sigh, “Lock the door.”

Your brows knitted together in confusion as you got up to lock the door. The smooth click did little to help you understand what Vessel wanted as you turned back to him. However, the shock of watching the large man palm himself made you shudder. Your breathing hitched as you made eye contact with Vessel behind the mask, his flirty smirk gagging you on.

“Any of the other techs gonna need you anytime soon?” Vessel asked while pressing his palm against his cock, the loose fabric of his pants giving away how hard he already was. 

You shook your head and swallowed back the copious amount of drool forming in your mouth. Slowly, you crossed the room to kneel between those spread legs. God, he looked so perfect. “Thanks, I just work out a lot.” Vessel laughed sensually as he pushed his pants down, pulling out his prick. You froze, looking up at the man from your position. “I said that out loud- Fuck…” Vessel chuckled softly at your dismay, finding amusement with how desperate you sounded. “Yeah, you did…”

You huffed at his comment before shifting closer to rest your forearms against his thighs. Vessel tensed before relaxing as you replaced his hand with yours, testing the weight. You looked up at him to confirm his consent, to confirm that you were being allowed to suck your boss off. 

The Prince Albert piercing called your name, every fantasy seeming to come true as the light reflected off the silver. You leaned forward, eyes heavy with lust as you stick your tongue out, pressing it flat against the head of Vessel’s cock. He exhaled roughly, watching closely as your wet tongue lapped at his tip. 

He reached down, cupping the back of your neck as you gently moaned at his taste. The salt from his sweat made you crave him more, made you want to lick his whole cock clean. “Gods… You’ve been wanting to do this for a while haven’t you?”

You hummed a yes before closing your eyes, sucking the tip of his cock in your mouth. Vessel hissed, thighs tensing at the suction. It seemed to have been a while for the both of you…

“Don’t tease- I don’t think we have ti- Ah!” Vessel warned as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with every downward movement. His hips twitched, begging to fuck into your pretty throat. But he kept still, digging his nails into your skin as he tossed his head back. 

His hood fell off as he did, revealing his messy hair as you opened your eyes. You rubbed your thighs together, swallowing around his cock the best you could. You’d body relaxed as you took him deeper and deeper till your eyes pricked with tears and your nose brushed against his pubes. 

Vessel groaned loudly, his breathing coming out in rough pants as you traced your tongue along the underside of his cock as you pulled up to just the tip. Cock now covered in your spit, you jerked him off, suckling on the angry red tip. “Fu- You’re such a cock whore baby…!” 

He squirmed and pressed you down, forcing you to gag slightly at the unexpected intrusion. Your throat clicked as Vessel fisted your hair, using it to guide you up and down on his dick. It drooled heavily down your throat, adding to the mess of spit and tears around your lips.

“Oh god, I should have used your mouth sooner…” Vessel moaned out, voice pinched as he starved off his orgasm, “Best fucking mouth I’ve ever used…”

His words lit you ablaze with pride, happy you are able to satisfy the singer. You moaned around his cock, going slightly lax from the lack of air. Thankfully Vessel noticed, gently pulling you off his cock to allow you to breathe. 

You shook your head, gasping for air before batting his hands away. “Need your cum~”

Vessel opened his mouth, preparing to taunt you. Instead, he gasped out, whining as you took him down your throat in one go. Your hands gripped his thighs as you swallowed him down, nearly gagging as the piercing rubbed your throat. 

You couldn’t help but pull off halfway, shooting Vessel a pathetic look. He gritted his teeth, bracing his feet on the floor, and bucked into your awaiting mouth. His moans became music to your ears as the wet slide of his prick turned you on. Your jaw ached from being held open for so long, but you persisted with the desperate need for his cum. 

Feeling the way his pubes brushed against your nose, the way his abdomen clenched, and how desperate he sounded, you weren’t shocked when he pushed so deep in your throat your eyes screwed shut. Your face was wet as you forced yourself to swallow down the thick load of cum being poured into your throat. Vessel’s filthy moans and words encouraged you not to let anything spill. 

“Fuck take it all- take all my fucking cum and let me fill you full of it. You wanted it, needed it so badly!” His words made you whimper, eager to take your fill. 

As he pulled you off, you whimpered loudly and chased after his cock. Your lips were red and spit-slick, eyes teary as you whined for him. “Can I have more..?”

“If you find me after the next show.”

[babextoken]

I see in a different light...the object of my desire

what happens when you accidentally text Bestfriend!Vessel instead of your Tinder hook up?

Tags/CW/Head's Up: vessel x you, fem gendered language, brief dubcon, briefly jealous!vessel and possessive!vessel, sending nudes, verbal teasing, spanking, cunnilingus, prone-bone, smut interrupted by fluff then back to smut, barely revised argue with the wall, fuck boys mentioned

MDNI 18+

it's one of those nights where nothing is going your way. you're still fuming about getting ghosted on tinder earlier this week. things were going so well and if *insert douchey fuck boy name* hadn't gone radio silent, you'd probably be going down on him right now! it's been entirely too long since you've had sex, let alone received some kind of non-platonic male attention. that's why you joined tinder this past month, even though your best friend, Vessel's, voice echoed in your ear saying...

Plenty of men want you! I don't get why you don't see it. You don't need the apps, just get out of your head. 

wow. so helpful. thank you, sir. you rolled your eyes when he said that as you edited your profile. if he's so good at noticing when other guys were checking you out, why did he never point them out? or was he just being nice?

at any rate, you feel cheated out of a fun night with a hot guy and want to make him feel sorry. so, you do what any sane, horny girl would do--send him a nude. you don't show everything right away. not you. never. you took the selfie so quickly you didn't have time to feel shame.

You put your PJs on and start to make yourself a little snack when you hear your text tone. Hah. Finally! He’s back in your messaging…groveling. pleading. Another ding. HAH! You must have really got him.

Vessel: Send another one xx 

5 minutes earlier

Vessel was tempted to pull an all nighter. He knew if he just put in a liiiiiitle more work, this melody would be golden and maybe he could pat himself on the back. Right as he was about to rage quit....ding ding. Very very few people's texts are allowed to bypass his DND settings...except for his best friend.

you: this could be yours, you know?

Vessel nearly dropped his phone as he made sense of the picture in front him. It only showed her lips down to her soft tummy, but he knew it was her. This wasn't some weird spam text masquerading as his dearest friend. She looked angelic. Dreamy. Delicious. Her free hand covered her breasts...her lips in a flirty smirk as she lightly bit her plush bottom lip. Vessel knew she was beautiful. Aren't all women beautiful, though? Surely every man feels his head cave in and his stomach clench with butterflies when his best female friend is near. Right…?

"Fuuuuuuuucccccck" he intoned, letting his hand drift down to his crotch to try and calm himself. He shook his head and repeated himself, putting down the phone. More than likely that text wasn't meant for him. There was no way. His face burned. His cock throbbed between his legs as he felt these strange, lustful stirrings for his best friend. What the fuck was wrong with him? The track he was working on quickly became the least important thing in the world…his frustrations slipping away as soon as his zipper was undone.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? How did you click on Vessel’s name instead of *insert douchey fuck boy name*?! They aren’t even close in spelling…oh…but they’re close on your “Recents” list. And now your hastiness and inattention has lead to you receiving a flirty response from your best friend who has been nothing short of a little brother to you.

You: OMG VES I AM SO SORRY!!! I didn’t mean to send that to you. FML. You: It was supposed to go to this guy from Tinder. Let’s just delete the thread and put this behind us, yeah?

...

It’s been 20 minutes. No response. Your stomach is in knots from the unknown. It’s really late…maybe he fell asleep. Maybe he was just kidding? Yes. That’s it. He was drunk and messing about and then passed out. That will help you sleep…just keep telling yourself…

Knock knock knock 

There have been two times now that you wish the tinder fuck boy was here. First time was when you were so horny you couldn’t see straight after your shower, and the second time was now, as someone knocked on your door at 1:30 AM. *ding ding*

Vessel: hun, come on. It’s me. 

Christ. What is this? You get off your bed and peer through the peep hole. Sure enough, it’s Ves in a hoodie and sweats, looking cuddly and kissable and WAIT. No no no no. Get it together. He probably just wants to hang out to show you that nude incident doesn’t change anything. 

“Well hello there young man, does your mother know you’re not in bed?” You say with a dry laugh as you open the door.

Vessel walks right past you into your place. You close the door behind you and lean your back against it. 

“Have I repulsed you into silence, hm?” 

Your normally boyish, quiet, sarcastic best friend looks practically ravenous as his eyes trail down your body. Now he knows what you look like naked, and the sight of you clothed right now borders on sacrilege. He takes a step forward. His doe eyes, which still brim with charm and platonic affection, bore into you as he grasps your chin with his hand.

“How cruel…to dangle such a tasty treat in front of me and then not take a compliment and act like this was such a terrible oversight on your part,” he growls.

“And which compliment are you referring to?”

He pulls you by the chin enough so that your back is off the door, though you’re certain he will just pin you back against it when he sees fit. This is not your closest friend. This is a man possessed. 

“Stop playing dumb, it’s beneath you. I asked you to send another immediately after receiving the first. Is that not a compliment? That I’m not merely satisfied with one image. I could have you in countless ways…I need to know what that would look like. Do you really want me to take you on your back every time? Always with your arm covering your tits like that? Hm?”

Your inhales are sharp gasps now as the butterflies in your tummy churn to get out. You’ve never seen him like this…never seen him as a prospective lover…never seen him horny even…but this…wait…wait why is he…

He gently chuckles and presses you back against the door, shaking his head and stepping away. 

“Oh my god…” he chuckles, “the look on your face. I really had you going, eh?”

You scoff, laughing in disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You say shaking your head and walking towards your kitchen. Just fall into the old routine. Get your usual drinks and plop on the couch for shit tv. You don’t make it far and suddenly you’re being pulled backwards by your sleep shorts. 

“This is what the fuck is wrong with me.” His hands keep your hips still as he presses his bulge against you. “You’ve ruined me. You have actually ruined my perception of you.”

“Tsk,” you try to wriggle from his grip but he ends up clasping you in a tight bear hug from behind, “slut shaming me now?”

“You sweet, silly, little wanker….shaming?” God it was weird to hear his playful nickname for you as he gently grinds against you. The resolve you worked so hard to build is dissolving as your head falls against his shoulder and allow him to knead your hips and stomach. He continues in hot, breathy whispers, “babydoll…I encourage it…as long it’s saved for me. Can you do that? Hm? Can you promise to only share that with me?”

Now your body betrays you and you grind back into him. 

“You’re no better than me. Look at you,” he says he plants soft, needy kisses on your neck. “You want this, don’t you? Please…please tell me you feel it too.” His grip is no longer firm. It’s hard. You're able to snake one of your hands up and behind his neck…you’re desperate to touch him anywhere at this point. 

“I…I feel it…”

Suddenly you’re being steered towards your bedroom. Ves is strong, perhaps not enough to hoist you up and throw you on bed, but he enthusiasm is evident when you’re pushed on the bed on your stomach. Immediately he’s out of his hoodie and his warm, bare torso presses against your back. He’s clinging to you from behind and letting his hands roam under your shirt. 

You let out a breathy moan and chuckle. “So you liked what you saw?”

“Mmmmmph,” He lets out gruffly as he gently bites your shoulder and licks the indentions from his pearly whites. 

You let out another moan but with a cackle now. “Oh ew. Sorry that wasn’t hot.”

He leans up and gives you a swift smack on your plush ass. “I’m realizing now that everything about you is hot.” But you don’t feel him touch you anymore. You roll over and look up at him. He sighs. 

“Ves, you ok? Did I do something wrong?”

“No…no…I just…kind of dropped back into my body. What are we doing?”

You smirk sadly. What are you two doing?

“We can stop if you want. Just talk. Whatever you want.” You sit up and caress his arm feeling the warmth and texture of his skin as if for the first time. He looks at you softly.

“Please don’t take my…enthusiasm…as some kind of…I don’t know…disregard for you. I’d…I’d do anything to be on the receiving end of those texts…I realize that now. It’s not just sex I want. It’s not just…your body. Don’t get me wrong…it tempts me beyond belief…now that I’ve seen it. But I get it now.”

You smile softly and maybe even proudly as he soothes your fears. As much as you would have loved to be prone-boned a minute ago, you were scared it was only because of the newness and craziness of the situation. “Get what, Ves?”

“Why I feel the need to do this.” And with that he presses deep kiss into your plump lips. His hand slips down shyly to your collar bone as your hand tangles in his hair. 

You let him undress you. Of course, he had just seen you practically naked. But here you were…in the flesh before him. You two spent a considerable just touching…caressing...tasting. But it became frenzied again after you let your hand mindlessly trail down your body to rub your clit. It wasn’t long before you found yourself folded in half with his face between your legs. His tongue flicking and massaging your clit as you squeal and buck your hips against him. His strong arms keep you still for the most part, but you don’t know what to do with your hands. First they’re on your tits…then the back of his head…twisted in his hair. He gives in and sticks his tongue out to let you grind against it. With your hand holding his hair tightly, your hips grind against his precious face. You look down…met with those same doe eyes. As if you weren’t mewling and blubbering enough…that little shit chuckles dryly and presses two fingers into your hot pussy. 

“Ffffffuuuuuccckkkk you. Oh my GOD,” you groan as you reach your climax. The white-hot knot in your tummy unfurls and your folds ache with pleasure as he presses your insides firmly and watches you reverently. “Holy fuck…ok…fuck…get off me now,” you say quickly because otherwise you’ll be completely overstimulated. He backs off immediately. What a good boy. His chest heaves up and down as he looks at you. You suddenly feel very small. Vulnerable with your soft belly and pussy exposed to him. What’s the worst that could happen…letting your best friend rut into you?

“You’re on birth control, yeah?”

You nod. Your IUD was still good for two more years. But you half-think you’d give him whatever he wanted, even if it meant being risky and stupid. He takes your legs firmly and pulls you down to him. He pats your clit with his heavy cock a few times. You shudder. 

“How long’s it been, love? Hm?” You don’t even want to answer. He caresses your cheek and moves to press himself inside you. Your body clenches as his thick cock stretches you. “Oh…oh it’s been awhile. Poor, little love. Let me fix it…let me make it better.”

As soon as he starts fucking you, you’re moaning his name and clasping his forearms. Your soft body jiggles in little waves as he presses into you with a gentle, patience force.

“Fucking hell…” he moans as he moves his hands. One settles on your ribs under your breast while the other collapses and lazily circles the top of your head. He leans down to kiss you…your taste still on his lips. 

Despite being so worked up, he keeps his wits about him and is able to fuck you without completely blowing his load in his new favorite place— your heavenly, warm, pussy. 

“God…god…such a pretty girl,” he whispers huskily. “My pretty girl is so good at taking cock. How did you get so good at taking cock, hm? You’re so good. So pretty.”

You can’t take it. You pull him in and make out with him roughly. All the feelings and thoughts you’d repressed flow out of you via your mouth and hips rubbing against him pathetically. He holds you impossibly close as he whines in your neck. 

“Babydolll….mmm…my little doll… stay still…stay still for me.”

Suddenly he flips you onto your stomach. An impressive feat given he was just balls deep in you. He pulls your hips up like he owns you and presses back into your pussy. He immediately whimpers pathetically. You’re desperate to throw it back but he gives your bottom a swift spank. 

“I said be still.” 

And with a hand firmly between your shoulder blades and another on your lower back, he drills into you until he’s shaking and blubbering about how he’s cumming inside you…how there’s no one like you…how you’re made for him…

The next morning, you wake up with Ves draped across your chest, snoring softly. You pet his hair softly and rub the sleep from your eyes as you check your phone. Hmm. Three missed calls and a string of pathetic texts from *insert douchey fuck boy name* acting like he never ghosted you in the first place. You toss your phone to the foot of the bed and curl up to Ves, who groggily wakes up as your kiss his head.

“Mine.” He says holding you close. 

“Mine.” You respond…groggy…sore…and lovesick.

[daddyhausen]

「 COMMISSION FOR —@hobihoneydrops 」

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

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

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「 SUMMARY 」 — vessel falls head over heels in love with his dream apparition

「 WARNINGS 」 — smut, 18 +, [ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ], DD:DNE !!, obsession, mentions of accidental drug overdose, mentions of death,

「 TAGS 」 — [ yearning ] [ forbidden love ] [ gentle sex ] [ vaginal sex ] [ penetrative sex ] [ unprotected sex ] [ male masturbation ] [ body worship ] [ cumshots ] [ oral sex — female receiving ] [ outdoor sex ] [ male + female orgasm ] [ multiple orgasms ] [ internal cumshots ] [ vaginal creampie ]

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 6.4k

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x vessel

「 GENRE 」 — smut, angst, DD:DNE

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you were only a dream — a figment of his imagination. the phrase repeated in vessel’s mind like a mantra. just on the cusp of reality you were. like a car in his peripheral vision, that inched closer than the rear view mirror anticipated—a deer in the headlights of your gaze, frozen in time as you stared at him with eyes of starlight, so bright and entrancing. the loneliness of his reality had plagued vessel for years, it still did — worse in fact. he has not felt the touch of another for quite some time, in a way he preferred. his mind too cursed, body too broken. the thought of burdening another precious soul with his troubles was far too much to bear. at least with you…he was able to control part of it.

even within his dream, as he stood within the evergreens, the prickle of wild, dew-slick grass between his toes, crisp spring air untangled the barbed wire wrapped around his lungs. he breathed — a deep shaky inhale — a breath that, in the waking world would have been too much of a chore. the shrouds that bind his tall, lanky body proved to be a godsent rather than a hindrance. the thin cotton fluttered against his obsidian skin, the sensitivity of his flesh heightened, buzzed with adrenaline as you came into his view.

an angel- no! a goddess you were. surrounded by and aura of golden sunlight that radiated throughout the forest, your shrouds white — pure, made of the finest silk, decorated with matching golden sun sigils, one around your waist that accentuated the wonderful curves of your full hips and thighs, the other two at your shoulders, shielded the swell of your breasts from his unintentional lustful gaze. vessel had never seen such a beholder of beauty in his pitiful existence, and even as you stared him down, with eyes full of reverence and care, he came to the realisation that not once had they touched, or even spoken for that matter. yet between them was this unannounced acknowledgement of each other, their eyes met, you would smile at him and he’d of course smile back, his heartstrings tugged and another appendage swelled just from your gaze alone. his belly ached and fluttered, his hands grew clammy with sweat, the perspiration never fully dissolved from his skin no matter how many times he’d wiped them clean on his shrouds.

and somehow each time he would near, drawn closer to you inch by inch, you’d fade out of existence, an invisible barrier blocked their paths — a wall build by his inner psyche to protect himself, even from the goddess he revered so. you’d never hurt him, he claimed that at least. for you were too kind, graceful, even to put up with his mere presence is enough to show your graciousness. the two off them connected by a string of fate never to be cut.

by this time he woke and you were no more. vessel rose from his bed in a panic, he clung desperately to the phantom images that flashed in his mind, the sensation of the wind that reminded him of what your touch would have possibly felt like. no more forest, no more greenery, no more freedom — no more you. just the desolation of his reality. the hopelessness that filled his bedroom. surrounded by piles of unwashed laundry that, if he squinted within the darkness, reminded him of the shrubbery of the forest, and the carpet — was a far cry from the soft tufts of grass.

barbed wire encircled his lungs again, he struggled to catch a breath with the sudden realisation that he’d alluded to for months—he was whole-heartedly in love with an apparition—for you could hollow out a place in his ribs and carve a home where his heart would be, nestle in the marrow of his bone and he would not object. he craved it. just one touch is all he asked, a simple meaningless touch of your hair, your shrouds, your skin. even if you faded completely from his memory after that he could at least die content.

vessel’s loins swelled with an unannounced arousal, he could envision you still so clearly, a picture painted behind his eyelids that would grace him every time he blinked. and a lovely image it was. so clearly splayed out of him, body nestled in a bed of daisies, a beautiful contrast against your delicate skin, a small shudder parted your lips as his fingers explore the warm cavernous void between your thighs, curled upward until he hit just the right spot that had you crying out his name in a fit of pleasure. your back arched each time he drove himself into your, gummy walls clenched around his length as he filled you to the brim, pulled him deeper, accepted all he had to offer. for he worshiped you and what kind of man would he be if he would allow such thoughts to remain silent?

vessel, with a shaky hand cautiously reached into his shrouds, his fingers tingled against the bare skin of his chest, so sensitive just from mere thoughts of his unnamed goddess. the fabric now felt constricting, his own skin even more so as arousal burned through him like untamed flames. he shuddered upon contact, beneath the fabric was warm, wet. his cock glistening and sticky with his own fluids. how he managed to spill over so quickly just from a dream of you was unbeknownst to him.

still, he did not stop, slender fingers grip his swollen shaft, hardly hesitant, almost primal with his actions. his tip sensitive, the bulb engorged and leaked with sweet pre-cum as he traced the calloused pad of his thumb across the slit. behind his mask grew hot, perpetration dripped down, through cracks of pearly white and ruby. his mouth dried, tongue cotton in texture, suddenly parched and in desperate need for a drink. a thirst only you could quench. his teeth somehow felt sharper, canines desperate to sink their teeth into your ethereal flesh, not to wound but to mark, just an indentation so others would know who’d staked his claim on you.

with haste, ringed fingers shoved down his shrouds, orate silver and polished garnett looks so stark in comparison to his skin — beauty amongst the darkness, akin to his mind in a way. his cock, now relieved that it has been freed from the confines of his shrouds, pulsed thickly against his toned stomach in small twitches, globs of white pre-cum stained his skin.

another shudder followed, he released it from his grasp, he let it fall heavy and hard against his body. he took another inhale — a heavy one though his nostrils, one that seared his blackened lungs. he contemplated for a moment, surely he was delusional. the woman did not exist. he created you to fill the void of loneliness that has consumed him since his adolescence. vessel was almost disgusted with himself, a pathetic attempt at self gratification would only lead to more loneliness in the end. and what woman would want him then?

vessel let his eyelids fluttered closed for a moment, a heavy pity-sodden sigh rested on his tongue, surely he’d have some self-respect for once in his life. pleasuring himself to a made up deity did not help quell his thoughts. vessel rested his head back against the headboard of his bed, a dull thud reverberated around his bedroom as his head made contact with the worn cherry oak, the frame had been damaged for a good while.

as he let his thoughts wonder, a flash of you repeated in his mind, not as coherent as the first, more so bursts of images, of you on top of him, gyrated and bounced atop his lap, breast clear and exposed in his line of vision. vessel’s throat tightened, a moan stifled in his chest. another followed, this time you’re backed up against him, his cock disappeared between your thighs, flesh rippled against his in an unholy dance, like still water disturbed by a stray pebble.

vessel’s eyes shot open, irises burned with desire. his body flushed with need, untamed and visceral. again, with no intention of holding himself back this time, his palm re-attached itself around his cock absentmindedly and he growled through clenched teeth like a starved wolf desperate for a feed.

his cock ached, and the movement of his hand began again as he stroked himself to thoughts — memories of you. memories that had no attachment to his reality, his mind too far gone to accept that, he did not allow himself to accept the reality that fate had laid before him.

“m-my goddess…” his whimpered out a plea, desperation laced in his voice with the hope that just maybe you’d heard him. responded to his cries of pleasure and save him from himself.

”just once…allow me to touch you…” his breath shuddered “…need to touch you….please”

he was desperate, called out to you as if you were there, naked before him, commanding him to submit to every wanton sexual desire of yours. to claim him as yours, to obey, to love, to fuck. if he could, vessel would peel off his skin if you ask so, he’d lay his body before a thousand ravenous wolves just prove his loyalty.

he’d let you mark him, beat him, degrade him anything of the sort and he would not falter, not once.

“fuck ahh..mmhmm..please…” he begged, the humiliation welled in his veins just at the thought of how pathetic he looked begging for an apparition to grant him what he will never receive.

he sweared he heard you sing his name with sweet praises, he felt the waterfalls of your lust rain down on him so sweetly. the voice conjured in his mind, so heavenly, an interpretation of what you might of sounded like. a voice so rich like honey that it could brought the most visceral beasts to their knees in obedience.

“my goddess…” he repeated, hot tears streamed down his sticky sweat-ridden cheeks as he tightened the grip around his shaft, a pathetic attempt to replicate just how you might stroke him, all taut and rough. the rings that adorned his slender fingers provided cool respite in between strokes, not much but enough to quiet his brain for a few milliseconds.

vessel crooned with pleasure at the tightness in his stomach, the dull throb of his cock against a rugged palm, pathetic whimpers passed through clenched teeth as he allowed himself to fully open his senses to the pleasure. as much as he desired domination, the faint whispers and pleas of you calling his name, breathless and lustful against you tongue paired with the visions of your sweet, dripping cunt accepted every inch of him. it was too much for vessel.

“you’re mine…i will have you, my goddess” he panted, aggression burrowed deep in his chest. angry at the predicament he’d found himself in, angry at the way the world was kept you barred and confined within his mind. god help when he finally was able to receive your touch, he will drink you in, get drunk on your essence, savour the feeling of your flesh on his tongue.

vessel let his mind wander further down the trenches of sin, his eyelids coated in visions of you in post coital bliss. instead of shrouds your body would normally occupy laid by the stump of a grand oak, laid an elegant, wedding dress made primarily of lace — detailed white lace with flowers, roses and lilacs hand embroidered so intricately into the fabric. marital bliss… his mind delved further, fastwarding, your womb now swollen, heavy with his unborn child, her gentle, motherly touch carresed the ever growing bump.

vessel could not help by let a tear shed from his eye — a happy one, marred with hopes and dreams of what could be.

“i’ll make it happen, my love…i promise…” even as empty as the promise was, he still wished to see it through. he hopes…

vessel’s breath laboured, the familiar twinge of his orgasm built deep in his abdomen, a thick, ever-growing pulse that thrummed from shaft to tip. he let out a small whine, almost pained as he gripped his cock tighter as he stroked the silky, wet appendage. he wanted to moan your name, it almost ripped his throat as a choked whimper passed through, yet no name he conjured up in his mind felt suitable or worthy enough for you.

his chest heaved, he panted with open-mouthed whines. the phantoms of touch against his bare chest, he hoped it would replicate the touches he’d envisioned of you. his hips rutted upward, primal in nature so desperate for release. a breath caught in his throat as he neared closer, unable to exhale until he finally released. spurts of white coated his knuckles, warm and milky as he spilt over, his body jolted and convulsed in pleasure upon release. yet he did not stop; he needed to drain himself fully, more as a form of punishment rather than gratification.

he did not feel satisfied, he felt disgusting, pathetic. pain shot through his hips, he silently asked you to punish him for his transgressions, he did not feel worthy to spill his seed for you, not under these circumstances. he wished to fill you, your womb to house the product of his one sided love.

he came again, he continued to stroke until his hand cramped, that was when he released his grip. he collapsed into the mattress, a disgusting mess of sweat and cum. his hips and stomach painted white, cock engorged and red, pulsed faintly, sensitive with lust.

he laid there in an uncomfortable silence, the wind howled in mockery, alluding to his shame and guilt. his bottom lip quivered with untamed sobs as a heavy guilt rose in his chest. the moon seemed dull on his skin despite the sheen of perspiration, no post-pleasure bliss to fall back on and soothe him to sleep having violated the sanctity of his dream deity.

”my goddess…forgive me…” he pleaded as if you could hear him. in many ways he hoped that you’d be lurking in his walls of under his bed, ready to forgive him at a moment's notice even though he knew it was impossible. he had no idea how he’d face you next, even if he’d be able to at all.

as his cock softened he stood up on weary legs, a hand positioned on the bedside table to stabilise himself. his head heavy, still whirled from the two mind-shattering orgasms. the disgust ran deep, chilled his bones as he recounted what had transpired. would you think differently of him? why would it matter when you’ve never spoken?

he shook his head of the thought, desperate to rid himself from the sticky residue that clings to his skin and quite frankly ready to boil himself alive in the shower. he took cautious step into the bathroom, as he shed the remainder of his clothing at the foot of the bathtub. he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, the slits of his eyes sunken with shame, exhaustion, skin more grey than obsidian. he looked like death, yet even death had better presentation. he stared of a few moments until the shapes of his face started to shift around him, reminded him that he needed to blink. he did not see a man when he looked back at his reflection, he saw a lonely decrepit cryptid so starved of attention within and outside of reality.

vessel let a heavy, exhausted sight fall from his lips. limp hand begrudgingly turned on the hot water — and only the hot water. maybe letting himself burn would help quell the raging silence in his mind, give him something else to focus on even if it is pain.

he stepped into the water, steam billowed around his figure as a pained hiss crept up his chest and escaped through his teeth. he almost wanted to recoil away and out of the water but forced himself to stay still, let the water seer and redden his flesh. he stood there in silence, not even a squeak, his eyes began to water with tears and he sobbed, he sobbed for hours upon hours until his throat burned and eyes dried like empty wells in a desert.

he only craved you. for what else does he have to live for? no friends, family or even a realistic lover to call his own. he spent another hour in the shower, by then the water had run cold, sent shivers fluttering through his skin, bit and nipped at his flesh like hungry ants. he sat, cowered in the corner, knees to his chest, rocked back and forth against the damp tiles.

eventually he came to his senses, he rosed and shivered with the cold sting of the water plus the chill of the midnight air. again with weary steps he exited the shower, he took another glance at himself in the mirror, fogged from the shower, small beats of water danced in a frantic race down the glass.

beast. he thought. disgusting beast, who would ever want you?

he hoped you would….

he glanced down at the sink, a bottle of sleeping pills rested unopened on the counter. the same bottle he’d bought from a side street vendor a few months prior, right around the time the dreams of you started, he’d been hesitant to touch them, never needing them as sleep would come easy to him. lately he contemplated it. maybe one or two just to help sleep pass just a bit easier, more time spent with you.

he grabbed the bottle, inspected it for a moment, the bright orange plastic seemed to radiate against the bleak darkness of his bathroom. a reminder of your aura, which called him back so desperately. he closed his eyes, he shoved the bottle into the medicine cabinet behind the mirror..

not tonight…

—

for the next week, vessel’s sleep was resetless, closing his eyes seems like a chore not matter how hard he tries. nights filled with sorrow-filled weeping and manic sobs. falling asleep naturally was simply not working. he wondered if it was due to his actions the past week, pleasuring himself to you. were you angry with him? did you banish him? were you so disgusted with him that you could not possibly bring yourself to face him? the worst fate of all was if you allowed him in and ignored his presence, no curt smile, no gentle wave, just existing as if he was not there, it would be a fate worse than death.

vessel found himself crouched by the bathroom door, rocking absentmindedly as the exhaustion began to chip away at his sanity.

she still loves me…? right…?

my goddess…please don’t forsake me…

he could not bear the thought of that. then he would be truly alone…and it frightened him more than death, more than any pain imaginable.

vessel made it to his feet, gripping the sink weakly. he stared in the mirror, a empty stare greeted him back. tired eyes tried their best to remain conscious, no matter how much he wanted sleep. he stared for a good five minutes before ripping the mirror of its hinges, the sleeping pills in full view of his gaze.

he grabbed them, taking one small white pill out of the bottle. he downs it dry, swallowed thickly as the powery capsule scraped and dissolved down his throat. one could not possibly hurt, it has been a week since he slept properly — since he saw you last.

“i’ll be with you soon, my goddess”

he sighed, returning to bed.

vessel laid in bed, tattered sheets graced his half-naked figure, his chest burned with anticipation, hoping that the medicine will take its effect sooner rather than later. he stares up at the ceiling, his jaw tightens absentmindedly, deciding to count the cracks around the base of the ceiling fan, how long and far every branch and twig of each crack is out of boredom. he examines the water damage in the far left corner of the ceiling, the drywall damp and beginning to grow a musty smell, a faint one but none less nauseating.

slowly he feels the pull of sleep drag him under, awaiting your warm embrace as blackness begins to spot his vision. he smiles, a true, heartfelt smile he had been missing for weeks up until this point. his body grows lighter, like a feather floating through a brisk breeze. and he sees it so clearly—the forest, in all its glory. so green and lush, picturesque in its beauty. he exhales sharply, overwhelmed he is finally in the place he feels most content.

his fingers brush up against the stump of a fallen evergreen, committing to memory every crack, crevice, every ridge and bump, the texture, the scent. and he smiles again. this…is home for him…

a flash of golden light blinds him for a moment. he squints, turning towards the light, trying to make out the shape of the figure engulfed in the heavenly glow. he gasps, his heart stopping at the sight of you.

the same as ever, so beautiful, so divine. just on the other side of the river. tears well in his eyes, overwhelmed that he finally gets to see you again. he love, his goddess. and you…were coming towards him, a slow and meaningful stride.

this is it… finally my goddess..

his heart is sent into overdrive. all those months of yearning, waiting, watching you from a distance has finally come into fruition. finally he will feel your embrace, finally he will have you. he will be whole again.

your figure on the cusp of reaching him, the invisible string that connected the two of you grew taut, his eyes widen, unable to reach for you any further and you remained still, staring straight through him as if he wasn’t even there.

vessel’s body is pulled backwards into darkness, back into the waking world. he shoots up, a cold sweat glimmering on his skin.

”no…” he breathes. “no no no no!!-”

this could not be happening!

he was so close, a hare’s breath away from finally having you, only for you to be ripped away. undeserving he was, like always.

he races out of bed and into the bathroom once more, the mirror laid shattered in pieces by the bathtub and vessel did not care about the glass that punctured the soles of his feet. with haste, he grabs the bottle, capsules spilling into the sink as he dumped a handful into a shaky, disoriented palm.

his mind a foggy mess, a smoke show, a memory of you as he clung onto whatever visions he had left of you with a feeble, desperate attempt. vessel did not hesitate in swallowing that handful of pills, once again letting them run dry and scrape his throat, feeling them mould together and sink low in his stomach. it had to work…just to see you again…it had to…

he stumbles back to his bed, vision blurry and disoriented as he makes contact with the mattress, the splitting headache from cracked his head open his eyes sensitive to even the dullest of light. he curls up bringing his knees to his chest, cuddling his pillow as if it were your figure, so warm and comforting. black spots begin to cloud his vision, the speckles of chipped paint on his ceiling became nothing more than grey blurs.

and he smiles, letting sleep consume him fully.

—

his throat parched and cottony, as if his mouth had been filled with sand. his head ached and throbbed, like he’d taken a hammer to the temple, pain shooting behind his eyelids as he opens them, blinded by golden streaks of sunlight bleeding through the tree line of evergreens.

did it work…?

his mind flooded with countless possibilities, was his sleep infinite, surely with the amount of pills he swallowed inadvertently. he’d be a fool not to have succumbed. vessel’s resolve was indeed weak if the only solution to his predicament was…well.. an endless sleep.

vessel sits up, immediately hit with a wave of vertigo, feeling his brain swoosh and swirl in the cavern of his skill, needing both hands to cup around his temples to ease the sensation. he takes a glance around. the forest…he was indeed back. there greenery seemed more lush, more vibrant, the roses were in full bloom, fruits beginning to flower, apples specifically, the blossoms a bright white with the faintest hint of peach and pinks through the centre, and the scent, so sweet and fragrant—faintly akin to the honeysuckles his mother would grow when he was a boy.

a young doe in the distance, all wide-eyed and nieve grazing at the dewy grass at the foot of an old evergreen, taking cautious—precious— moments to raise her head, peeling strips of bark from the stump, unbeknownst to his presence. it was serine, peaceful almost, vessel only wish he could revel in such calm, such freedom.

“vessel?” a voice calls out to him. undoubted feminine. he freezes in his position, body chilling with a cold sweat, to his knowledge he’d never revealed his name while within the dream space, let alone made contact verbally with any other life form. his gaze at the ground, greeted by the familiar ivory silk, his breath catches in his throat, an exhale parts his lips with a shudder, his eyes scanned upward. that golden aura when he first awoke, it was not the sun—it was you. his goddess.

and you were just as beautiful as ever.

“are you alright?” your voice is just as wonderous as he imagined. all those nights spent theorising the tone, the soft accented lilt, the pitch, the cadence. nothing could have prepared him for the moment you first parted your lips. his heart soars at the first word to leave your lips was his name.

“i…you…you can speak?” it was all he could bring himself to say, not caring about the possibility of any injuries he sustained.

“of course, why wouldn’t i?” you kneel before him, examining his features, suddenly his face becomes flushed behind his mask.

“before…how come-?”

”the barrier has been broken”

the barrier that kept the two of you from ever interacting finally severed — his conscious

“you’re dead, vessel”

the words were blunt but had to be said.

dead…? the pills…of course…

”how am i here? you’re in my head…you’re not real…you should have died when i…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentance and you could offer him no response as to why you still glanced his presence.

he reaches out a weak, lanky hand, caressing the ends of your shrouds, a shuddering, pitiful sob wretch’s at his lungs, burns like bile in his throat.

“i’ve waited so long for this…” he confesses through tears. that hand clinging to the fabric like a lifeline. “may i touch you…please…my goddess?”

you nod, a not that was far to sudden, far too anticipating. his hand retracted from your shoruds, tracing up the bare flesh of your forearm, your skin tingled with bursts of electricity his touch, sending sparks throughout your body. vessel’s jaw quivered with a small whimper, rough rugged fingertips, grazing along the indentations of your collar bone, feeling your own breath quicken at the featherlight touches before his palm cupped your cheek, hesitant with his actions as his thumb smoothed across the petal of your bottom lip.

”you’re more beautiful each time i see you…” he croons, parting your lips with his thumb, tracing over the small ridges in the flesh. “all this time…i have loved you…please say it back…even if you don’t mean it…i just need to hear you say it…”

desperation flooded his voice, to himself his yearning seemed pathetic, just to hear you say you loved him back, even if it was a false proclamation, would heal the gaping wound in his heart, at least then he could pretend, hold onto the substance and manifest it incase you were to slip from his grasp.

the words left your lips with the same breathless desperation, four words that made his heart swell and sour with delight.

“i love you, too…”

the heat was instantantions, vessel’s lips crash against yours with such feverant lust that it knocks the air our of your lungs with a gasp. his stomach twirls and fluters upon the connection, hands roaming your waist with an impatient intensity that had been building – bigger and more aggressive with each month that passed, only for the culmination to be far sweeter that anticipated. your lips tasted of fresh cheries – recently devoured black cherries, so tart and tangy on his tongue, sheer and opaque as it mingled with his tastebuds. he savours it as if it were the final time he’d be allowed to sample it.

his chest rises and falls with bated breaths, body manually exerting strength as it was all he could focus on while your lips explored his. just incase his heart were to stop unexpectedly. your fingertips no longer phantoms on his skin, so real – so tangible. featherlight as they traces idle shapes and indentations into his chest and collarbones. Just as desperate as him.

your bodies fall into the tufts of wild grass, lips still connected in a passionate kiss. vessel’s blackened fingers tug at the sun broaches atop your shoulders, unclasping them, allowing your shrouds to fall clean from your body, a body that was far more delicate and beautiful than he could ever describe. he’d envisioned how it would look so vividly in his mind yet nothing compared to the way your body curved so naturally against his palm, your skin soft and supple, lustrous like the finest silk.

he marvels at you, the dips and curves of your figure far to maginiscent to describe, the only adjective coming to mind was…perfect. absolutely perfect.

even the little indentations of your hips, a perfect slot for his thumbs to rest. the clouded pads of his thumbs smoothing down the skin with gentle strokes, making small circular motions. his lips slow me intentional with their movements, slow, lingering kisses down your breasts, against the pillowy flesh. he gasps at how soft they are, like a cloud upon his tongue as he exhales with a shuddering gasp.

“beautiful…” he mutters, a huger undertones in his words, so primal and raw as his tongue flickers over your perked nipples, stiffened by his breath. his lips ghost around the swollen buds, teasing them with soft puffs of air. vessel watched on as your body begins to rise, your back arching as pleasure builds desperate for him to continue.

”please…?” your words leave your lips in a desperate whine. the subtle break in your voice, sent shockwaves to vessel’s cock, the appendage stiffening in his shrouds.

“yes…?” he pants. “anything you want my love, all you have to do is ask”

his lips wrap around your perky nipple, sampling the texture on his tongue, his eye fixated o. your form, an exhilarated whine ripped through your throat, pristine, manicured fingernails digging into the dirt beneath you, staining the pearly white claws a muddy brown.

“you know what i want…” your throat goes thick, swallowing down a moan as you inspect his actions, how his lips and tongue worked the pebbled bud, teeth tugging lightly at his, your cunt throbs with delight, wetness pooling between your thighs

“in time my goddess…” vessel pries away from your nipple, a slick pop sound reverberated through the forest as his lips parted with your flesh. “first…i need to taste you”

he sits up, sip lick the drool that accumulated on his bottom lip, his canines sharp and pointed, you feared he might cut his tongue as the appendage ran lightly across them. you peer down, his shrouds hang low on his hips, his body sculpted and lean, yet he maintains a slender figure. peering down further you’re amazed by just how impressive his length is, even fully clothed and semi-erect, you believe wholeheartedly that he could split you on two.

he stared down at you, your doe eyes widened and impressed glancing ever so often between his eyes and his length. he smirks and a devilish smirk it was, all those lonely night spent pleasuring himself to your image, it all culminates to this very moment.

“spread your legs for me, darling”

and you did. your pretty, perfect pussy barely visible from beneath your shrouds, catching a glimpse of it each time the wind fluttered against the fabric. vessel, on his knees, his hands shoving up the fabric until it rested comfortably at your hips. he marveled at the sight, speechless as your glistening, wet cunt shone under the sunlight, so ready and willing for his tongue.

he lowers himself, placing dainty kisses to your hip bones, feeling you shiver under his touch. he does the same to your inner thighs, swirling inconsistent shapes against the flesh, letting them linger for milliseconds more the closer he inches to your cunt. he felt you gasp, your cunt tightens—clenches around air as soft breaths whisp against your clit.

“relax for me, my love”

he takes your thighs, positioning them atop his shoulders, slender fingers holding you in place. his tongue parts his lips, licking a long purposeful stripe up your cunt, lips wrapping around your clit. your body instantly seizes with pleasure, hips bucking to meet the flicks of his tongue. as much as you wanted to relax into the pleasure, sink into the dirt as he devours you. you couldn’t, you needed to watch him, inspect just how skilled he was.

you prop yourself up into your elbows, watching the way his skill tongue worked your clit with expertise. his thumbs swirls against your hips, providing some comfort against the force of his tongue.

“mmhm vessel…”

god he loves the way you say his name, so perfect all pitched and desperate with pleasure. your stomach could and tightened, burning white hot as your orgasm built. so long you’ve been without release, so long you’ve needed this, needed him even if you did not realise it at first.

vessel moans into you cunt, a signal without words that he allows your release.

“it is alright, let it happened my love”

as if his words commanded it, you spill around him, nails clawing into the dirt, taking clumps between your plans as squeezing. an exhilarated moan rips through your throat, your body becoming sensitive to the feeling of his tongue. he pulls away, lips glossy with your essence.

“i cannot wait any longer, my goddess…” he removes his shrouds, his body bare, impressive cock standing proud against his stomach. he crawls atop of you, his cock slotting between your thighs just grazing against your overstimulated clit.

“finally…i’ll give you what you need”

your wetness drooling down his cock, feeling him prod between your thighs as he immersed himself within your void, the gummy ring of your cunt clenched around his cock, bottoming out instantly, a gasp takes both your breaths, leaving a cacophonous gap in your chest, where you should be breathing.

“does it hurt?” he remains still, not wanting to move until he was absolutely certain you were comfortable.

it takes a second for you to adjust, your perfect cunt moulding to fit the shape of him. your walls fluttering around his thick shaft, wanting to pull him in.

“i’m okay..” you whisper, still regaining your breath from the initial intrusion

“good…” he places tender kisses to your eyelids upon noticing tears beggining to well in them. “i’ll keep you safe, i promise”

he begins to move, slowly at first, the intrusion swishing in you belly, just fluttering against the opening of your cervix, not quite reaching, but enough to make his presence aware. vessel dips his head to the side, capturing your neck in a flurry of dainty kisses, muttering sweet nothings against the skin.

your legs, almost out of instinct, wrapped around his waist, ankles locks, keeping him trapped between your legs

“more…i can take it…” a moan tingles against your tastebuds, inhaling the inflicted scent of him, all manly, of earth and clay, dewy like grass and damp like stone.

with that notion, he increases his speed, a hands place firm on your abdomen gently massaging the flesh while his cock ravages you. how heavenly the sensation is. never in your life had you recieved such pleasure, each sense heightened, beaming with arousal.

even though your first orgasms has already broken through, you feel that familiar pressure in your abdomen, and not from vessels hand, it swirled and bubbled in your skin, down to your muscles and bone, tight, almost tearing. he could sense it as well, the lack of touch, the over exposure to it now sent you both reeling.

“can i cum inside you, my goddess?” he asks—no! begs for it, just the sound of his whimpers makes your toes curl in delight. you nod— a frantic, feverish nod in agreement. it was one thing to experience the sensation of his cock gutting your womb but to have it filled, oh that would surpass even the most pleasurable of orgasm

he lets out a shaky breath, one that catches in his throat, his lips travel to your, capturing them in another heated kiss, the hand once on your abdomen now drawing impatient circles against your clot, his cock bullying its way into your womb.

“cum for me, my love…”

you throw your head back, stomach coiling with release as you cum around him, the grass below drinking in your sweet essence, the scent like nectar to vessels senses, a trigger that set off his own release.

he coats your cunt in his warmth, a release so strong it sends wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. your bodies intertwined, connected forever, laid sweat-covered and blissful in the grass, amongst the wildflowers. vessel’s head propped into the crook of your neckC his bodyweight pressing down atop of you, not painful, enough to make your breaths take some effort, other than that if was comfortable. a silence builds between the two of you, not one marred by awkwardness. the both of you content.

“i can’t wait to spend eternity with you, my goddess”

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