Vessel 𓂃 ࣪⋆💿˚ ༘ sweet girl
female reader
summary: tiny little emotional breakdown leads to being cooped up onto the sofa & put in mandatory time out (i have daddy issues & anxiety what else is new)
۶ৎ warnings: daddy issues (the bad kind), graphic descriptoins of a mental breakdown, anxiety?, vessel being commanding hehe
words: 3.2k
"Go get those carrots for me, love." the tall man beside me instructs gently, and I slide off the counter reluctantly to grab them from the fridge. My fluffy socks slide across the cold floor, and I shuffle awkwardly when the even cooler air from the fridge tickles the tip of my nose.
"Care to wash and peel them for me?" it's spoken so softly, with the well-known tenderness he seems to drip into every word he utters, I can't help but want to do it. Despite the fact I have yet another huge uni assignment to cram through, with well and truly no time to think about anything else right now, I thoroughly wash the vegetables before stepping up next to him.
Vessel brushes past me with little care, running his fingertips along my wrist when I let out a sigh. He looks over my shoulder when he returns from whatever he was doing, and I try my very hardest not to let my weak hands waver during the task.
I'd barely caught onto my tiredness before now. But under his scrutinizing gaze, I notice the tremor of my fingers, the slugged hold I have on the peeler, and the messy outcome. Whispering a small 'sorry' into the space, I sigh before laying the things down.
"No, no," he coos gently, raising his hands as he takes a step away from my work, "I didn't mean to judge your work, love. It doesn't have to be perfect or anything, I'm cutting and cooking them either way."
He breaks the distance between our bodies once more, raising my hand with his own much bigger one to place the peeler back into my palm. "I appreciate the help." is mumbled right above my ear, and I try to ignore the shiver it sends down my back.
Masking the bob of my throat with a heavy nod, I get back to finishing my job and handing the cleaned up pieces over to him to cut them. He begins cutting them while I continue my task, trying my best to get the pieces right.
It's harder than anticipated, and after every nick into the flesh of the vegetable or every slip of the peeler when my hands forgot to add pressure, I wince silently. Looks like I just can't do anything right today. "My love," he whispers after some time, making me stop mid-motion when he finally grabs my hands to stop me, "Did you listen to me?"
Fuck. I swallow again, trying my hardest not to look up at him. I really am messing it up. "I know. Sorry, I know it's bad, but I'm just-" he sighs again, and I take an involuntary step away from the counter. "I'm sorry, I should just." — "My love."
Before I have the chance to escape, before my wandering eyes have found safety and before the words in the back of my mind have the chance to tumble off my tongue and cut, my cheeks are grabbed and my head is turned upwards. "It's just carrots." he reiterates, soft eyes staring down at me.
This is wrong. Why am I making a big deal? Why is it that whenever I'm around him these days I just clam up? Swallowing thickly, I try my hardest to pull back from his grasp, but his fingertips become firm. I can't do this. I can't be good. Enough.
"Please let me go." I whimper before I can stop myself, jerking my head back and casting a look towards the ground when his hands drop. Silence wraps around us, contrasting with the voices that fill my head, screaming abuse at each and every one of my actions. With every new insult my subconscious comes up, my chest tightens.
The little air that filled my lungs gets squeezed from my body with every new gasp I let out. Tears fill my vision, hot and angry and confused. Like a child, I turn away from him, making a beeline for the door. With every step I take, my heartbeat thumps harder, as if trying to overshadow everything else.
I don't know where he is, don't even want to know as I drag on my shoes. Crouching down, clammy fingertips try to tie my laces, but every time I try to loop them, the tremor in my hands makes them fall again.
"Fuck" I whisper, dropping my hands. From the corner of my eyes, I see Vessels figure approach. His form is blurred by my tears, but weak legs carry me towards the door regardless. His mouth is moving, I know it, yet in spite of all his efforts, I can't register his words.
I barely see the doorknob when I turn around, barely feel the pressure he puts on the door to try and stop me from running away. I just need to go, I need to go, I need to go. I've fucked it. Messed everything up again and disappointed the only person who's approval I truly needed. The words that spill from my mouth feel foreign, and I choke on tears and sobs as I try to contain them.
With a final beg for release, my knees give out beneath me. The door is cold as I slide down against it, and I try my hardest to stay close to it, as if my agony lessens if he can't see me. I just wanted to be good, wanted to be enough for him. What a pitiful excuse of a person I am if I can't even do a task as simple as the one he'd given me.
Faintly, through the haze of my feelings, his voice reaches me again, clawing it's way through the lump in my throat. "it's okay, you're okay."
Over and over he repeats the words, but they pearl off like the tears that drip down my chin. No matter how hard I try to breathe, how deep I force the air into my tight chest, it's just not enough.
"I'm not mad at you, my love."
He's lying, I know he is, still I allow my mind to latch onto the words either way. Unclenching my hands from where they grip my sweater, my eyes stay locked onto the ground as I turn towards him. "I'm sorry" I hiccup, sliding over and hiding in his shoulder where he's crouched behind me.
With every new sob, every hiccup and shallow breath, the words leave me again. In this very moment, he becomes the god I bow to and those two small words are the only thing that might save me from his wrath.
Big hands wrap around my back, dragging me to cower in his lap as he falls to the ground completely. One hand comes up to run through my hair, applying the gentlest of pressure to the back of my head.
Without any strength to protest, my head falls onto his chest. Vessel has stopped speaking now, simply holding me as I fall apart. Yet through it all, his heartbeat is steady, his hands are gentle and his breathing urges mine to match it.
I'm not sure how much time passes, not even sure it was any at all, but I know that I need it to stop. With a low, snotty whine that erupts from the back of my throat, I bury my head between his chest and neck, clutching at the back of his t-shirt just to have something to hold.
"It's okay, my love. Just come back to me, hm?" he coos, running his hands through my hair. "Breathe with me, baby." Slowly but surely, his heartbeat replaces mine where it thumps in my ears, and with the greatest of efforts, I will my chest to move in tune with his.
His voice is raspy, deeper than I'm used to when Vessel finally speaks up again. "There we go, sweet girl." Brushing some hair from my face, He pulls my head from the crook of his neck. With no place to hide, I cast an embarrassed glance at the floor. Fuck.
I feel his sigh more than I hear it, but before I can clamber away again, he's stood up, grabbed me by the arms and hauled me after him. I can't fight back, no matter how much I want to. Can't pull my hand from his gentle grasp as he leads me back into the kitchen, can't stop him from lifting me up to sit by the window again.
A fingertip rubs the spot right at the corner of my eye, ridding the reddened skin of fresh tears. Sliding between my legs, he presses a soft apology into my skin, and then opens the window. The cold air returns feeling into my limbs, forces my fingers out of their stupor and makes me wrap my arms around myself.
Moments later, a tall glass is lifted to my lips, and I allow the water he offers me to cool me down, snapping my eyes up to look at him for the first time. His gaze is weary, and the tremor in his hands is masked poorly.
The glass thunks against the counter, but neither of us care much for it. Vessels eyes don't leave mine as he shuts the window again. With yet another sigh, he crowds into my space, pulling me into a strong embrace.
Mustering up the courage to speak, I cringe at the crack of my voice. "I'm sor-" — "Don't" he interrupts harshly, pulling my head back to look at me. Once more, his hand finds my cheek, keeping my gaze locked onto his with no space to escape. "Don't you dare apologize, my love. Not for this."
Despite the harshness of his eyes, the glimmer of tears isn't lost on me. A fingertips finds my lips when I open them again, and he shakes his head as if he knows I'm about to repeat myself.
Like a frightened child, I sit and wait for his next move. Wait for the anger, the pain, the question why. My hands clam back up as my teeth click together, trying to prepare myself for the disappointment in his tone.
"Don't do that, sweet girl," he murmurs, nudging my jaw with his thumb, "Stay here, breathe with me." Searching eyes find mine, switching between each one rapidly. "Just breathe,hm?" with every tiny heart his thumb traces into my skin, the tension leaves my body.
The analog clock in the corner of the room ticks quietly. Again, and again, and again. Until at some point, it's all I can focus on. The pressure of his skin against mine ebbs off, I lose track of my breathing, and barely register as my limbs loose feeling.
"I can't do this." the words leave me before I can stop them. But they're true. I can't sit here and allow him to pick me apart. Can't allow him to grasp the power over me, whether he wants it or not.
"You don't have to."
"Don't lie to me." — "I'm not."
He is. I know he is. Deep down, despite his gentle eyes and calm breaths, I know he's lying to me. I know by the pressure behind my eyes that there's fresh tears welling up, know that no matter what he says now, the words will only cut.
Vessel does it regardless, holds me captive on the counter, like a bunny in a trap. "I don't need you to explain yourself, my love. I don't need answers or justification or apologies for things you have no control over."
"I just need you to stay, okay? Stay where I can see you." his voice is firm, locking me into place once more. "I'm not mad at you, my love. I'll say it as often as I need to." Frantic hands run through his hair, and he turns hastily before reaching out to me again.
With careful grace, he grabs the back of my thighs and lifts me up again. "You need a break. No laptop, no phone. No helping friends when you barely have the energy to help yourself. No trying to impress your parents, or professors, or whoever else you want to awe."
I'm dropped onto his huge couch unceremoniously, and he crouches down in front of me the second I'm covered by his favorite blanket. "I'll put on the record you like, make you a tea and finish dinner, okay? To say it again, I'm not mad at you. Or disappointed. Or whatever it is your mind is trying to come up with right now."
His legs straighten back up, and he smooths the hair at the crown of my head before stepping over towards his record player. Then he returns to me, bending down and pressing a kiss to the spot. True to his words, he repeats his sentence once more.
Leaning back into the cushions, I watch his movement in the kitchen. Fight a small giggle when he takes the clock from the wall and removes the batteries. "That," he points at it theatrically, "I am mad at. Don't even know why I keep the bloody thing."
The music is quiet, overshadowed by breathy humming as Vessel brushes through the kitchen, doing quick work of cutting the vegetables, brewing tea and cooking dinner. The mug he hands me is my favorite. Handmade and dented by his own two hands, so it feels like I'm holding them instead of the tea.
Anxiety still gnaws on me. It fills the back of my mind with fog, clinging to every inch of my weary being. Resting my head on the side of the sofa, I fight the everlasting wave of emotion with all I have.
As my eyes zero in on the edge of the blanket, I lose track of his steps, his voice, his presence that seemed so close to me just moments ago. It's all too much again. Gentle fingers pull me from my stupor, release the frayed fabric between mine. His body settles above mine quietly, fills the space above my hollowed chest, pulls the floating edges of my brain right back into the moment.
"You don't need to be good for me, my love," Vessel murmurs into my neck, "Don't need to perform. Just be for now, sweet girl. Sit and rest and let me look after you."
He's here, I remind myself finally. He's here and he's real and he's not mad at me for being overwhelmed. Faintly, I smell the food cooking, hear the soft piano tunes in the background.
In the forefront of my mind, his fingers brush against my sides, his chest moves against mine and his steady breaths mingle against my shoulder. Biting my cheek, I resist the urge to apologize again. He's not mad at me.
What feels like a few minutes later, although I have lost all track of time, he lifts his body off of mine, covering me with a blanket to quell my shivering. Muttering a small 'be right back' into the top of my head as he pats my hair down, he trudges back into the kitchen.
"Should I help?" — "Don't you dare, my love."
Vessel is strict, but the smile on his face calms my beating heart before it could even jump. So I stand up and walk towards the record player instead. I know his routine by now, quietly following through the steps before I sit back down and watch as he finishes our meal and brings over two plates for us. Taking mine with a quiet 'thank you', I settle into the sofa.
I'm not sure what documentary he's put on, but I hum in content as I begin eating, rolling my eyes when I realize I'm about to sit through at least an hour of Dino-talk. Then again, I think the both of us know that I'll love it.
I shouldn't though. With my spoon raised halfway towards my mouth, my movement stops abruptly. Only for it to be pushed towards my face further. "We said you'd take a break." he grins, his own spoon hanging from his mouth. "You said that." shaking his head, he chuckles at me.
"And you're gonna be my sweet girl and do it."
Oh, good god. Genuinely why would anybody say that. Despite my frustration, my eyes are heavy, my head is pounding, and I know that the second I slip out from beneath this blanket, I'll freeze on the spot.
So I nod, settling deeper into the sofa and sliding my cold feet up beside his. He groans, making me giggle. "Revenge?" he hums, squirming away from me. "Yup" I retort with a smile. "Can't say I deserve that, but whatever."
Dinner is great, and as the gracious man he is, Vessel accepts the last two bites off of my plate before he sets our dishes down. Just as I'm about to get up, a pair of hands wrap securely around my middle. "You're on break."
"Yeah, break. Not time-out? I just want some water." I wail, but he pulls me back down onto the sofa regardless. "Let me, my love." Well, I guess there's nothing to be done about it.
He returns to me with not just a glass of water, but rather the biggest carafe of it I've ever seen. "Where'd you even get that?" Vessel doesn't bother answering, and he plops down onto the sofa with a simple shrug.
Only when my glass hits the surface of his leaf-shaped coaster does his gaze leave my face. Just when I think I'm safe, he refills my glass and stares at me again. Those big, soulful eyes of his I'm so used to are as heartbreaking as ever. I recognize the bone-deep exhaustion from my own set, and once I grasp the fact that he's frowning at me, I take a deep breath and move.
"I know you don't want me to apologize," the words are mere whispers, as hesitant as my body when I settle closer by his side, "But you can't say no to me thanking you. I appreciate that you looked out for me, more than you know."
Wordlessly, his hand reaches for mine, and he pulls me right over to lay on his chest. "Yeah, I guess there's nothing I can say about that. But I want you to know that I'd do it again in a heartbeat, sweet girl."
"Life is unbearable sometimes, and there's not much to be done about it, trust me. But I don't want you to be afraid to reach out when times like that come." slender fingers run through my hair, his lips ghost my head with every word he says, and his heartbeat is so strong beneath my ear that my frenzied one just joins in again.
"You're my sweetest girl, I'll never leave you to do it alone."
started good & drifted off better whatever
as fucking always, heavily self indulgent, i literally js need a person to like do that to me maybe and like eurgh take care of me or whatever tell me that i'm not the only adult with responsibility in the world
fuck adulting
idek at this point you guys what even is life
thanks for reading my loves!! <3
