Spread you legs for me, watch me eat my way to your heart.
You and Vessel have dedicated nerdy evening to wind down from busy days to do whatever you want. Tonight, what Vessel wants to do is you.
Or Vessel lowkey loses his mind eating box and loves on you for 3,181 words.
Read here or on ao3.
Note : now that i have my very own laptop it's easier to write fics cuz now i don't just have to type on my phone or go through hercules's trials to get my hands on a keyboard :3
It had become a habit in the cozy home you and Vessel had created. Every evening, you would take some time together to relax, make a nice comforting meal together, dimming the lights and doing something relaxing together. Sometimes, it was watching a show or a movie together, and then scrolling fan-arts until you passed out from exhaustion. Other times, like last week, for example, it was building legos. He had come back with a Pokémon set, with Venusar, Blastoise and Charizard, which you built together. It was now sitting proudly on a shelf, around a collection of all the second-hand bought Pokémon games everyone around you played but you couldn't afford. Having a rich rock star boyfriend with common nerdy interests had its perks. And tonight, you were playing one of those games. Sat on the antique green couch you snatched on an occasion, you were deeply entrenched into the tall grass, about to complete your ideal team for fighting against the next arena leader. You were sat on the edge of your seat, brows lightly furrowed and biting on your tongue. You didn't hear Vessel come into the living room and looking over your head, hands resting on the back of the couch on either side of your shoulders. He leaned forward and down to see what you were doing.
"What are you doing ?" he asked as if he didn't have eyes.
"Trying to get some fiery bitches," you answered without looking away from your screen.
He chuckled. He could use a fiery bitch too. But you were busy with something else and, from nerd to nerd, he knew better than to grab your attention in a place where you couldn't save your progress. It's fine though. He didn't need any of your attention. He could get what he wanted all by himself, and he was going to. He anticipated the fact that you would probably redirect your attention for a split second to see what he was up to if if he needed anything. He knew you would still give your game up for him if he really needed it. But that is not what he wanted, and not how he wanted to play you. So he turned to the shelf, pretending to look for a game to play himself. Parallel play was also an habit between the two of you. He counted three seconds before turning back to you. He smiled at how focused you were. He could watch you play the whole night. But he wanted to play too. Slowly, he made his way to you and sat on his heels by your feet. Again, that was usual too. He loved having floor time and resting his head on your thighs. You quickly pet his head as the attack animations played. He was amused by how into your game you were and still gave him attention, but mostly by how oblivious you were to his intention. His hands rested on your thighs as he nuzzled the soft skin in the inside of them through the fabric of your sweatpants (or were they his ? he wasn't so sure). He loved how he could push his nose in the fat with no resistance. You glanced at him quickly but didn't intervene. That was when you should have known. Something stirred in your lower stomach, and his thumbs pushing into the crease where your upper thighs met your body. You didn't say anything yet, and simply watched his trail his lips and nose along your leg until he kissed your crotch. It made you jump, and you were in the mood to tease back, so you place your bare foot on his stomach, let it graze down across his abs, his pelvis and his cock, before letting it fall back to the ground. You smiled with satisfaction as he groaned and his eyes shot daggers at you. You resumed your playing as he nose at your crotch, inhaling like coming to the surface after free-diving in cave-like underwater rock structures.
"You are an animal, Vessel," you taunted, resting your right foot on his thigh.
"Keep playing, my love," he snapped back, authority in his voice.
You could barely take his authoritative tone seriously, kneeling before you sniffing your pants like a street dog, but you obliged. You knew it would serve you well. He paused, looking up at you. That attitude of yours rubbed him the wrong way. Swinging your legs over his shoulders, he grabbed you, arms around your back, and slammed you down on the couch so you would be laying down belly exposed and he could have free reign over you. You yelped at being tossed around so easily. There was in his obscured eyes you hadn't seen since the first time he returned from tour while you where together but didn't go with him. It stunted you for the second it took him to take your pants off and toss them over the back of the couch.
"I said keep playing."
This time, you really obeyed. You looked at the screen, but you couldn't focus. His teeth were digging in your thighs, just shy of puncturing the skin, while his hands grabbed handfuls of them. He seemed to be obsessed with your thighs, over the moon and out in the stars for them.
"Fuck. If I bite too hard, your crush my head until my skull cracks, you understand ?"
Before your smirk could fully form, his claw-like fingers closed around your jaw and pinned your head in place as he hovered over you.
"Do you fucking understand ?"
You babbled yes in a half-breath. He stuck his fingers between your teeth through your cheeks to force your mouth open. The daggers in his eyes turned into dented swords, gripping and tearing into your mind and ripping brain cells like they would rip flesh and blood out.
"Open."
You parted your lips more and he spat in your mouth before returning between your thighs. The taste of saliva and blood mixed on your tongue into a flavor fit for an addiction. Dazed and dizzy, you stared at the ceiling for a moment. His tongue lapped a long stripe over your pussy over your underwear. He seemed very happy with tasting you through cloth for as long as you will take to start begging. His hot breath on your sensitive skin shot pleasure through you like lightning, and you cursed his chuckle at the effect he had on you while your legs turned to jello. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and saw his eyes roll back for a brief instant. He looked at your wrist, asking himself how you even imagined you could have the upper hand in this moment, before grabbing it and prying your hand off his hair and lacing your fingers together.
"You're such a sweetheart, why would you try to bite more than you can chew like that ?" he crooned, condescendence in his tone, his head tilted to the side. "Just hold my hand, will you ? Just like that. There we go. This is what we want."
He licked on the wet spot of your underwear some more. You wondered how he would take it off with only one hand, but he was a smart boy and would always find a way to get his treat. A smart boy with sharp teeth. Gripping on the cloth with his free hand on one side and with his teeth on another, Vessel ripped it off and casually pocketed the remains. He shot a playful look at you, eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and adoration that never failed to make you fall head over heels for him over and over again. Looks like there was no other game he'd rather play. You set the console somewhere farther on the couch and your now free hand buried itself in his hair the moment he dove between your thighs. He let you push his hair out of his face as he truly tasted you for the first time tonight. He sighed with pleasure, like his ribcage felt tight around his lungs before he got to your cunt. Like he was completely restrained. His hands wrapped around your thighs kept you open for him, but also kept him locked and grounded to you. It felt like a trance to him, with his tongue dancing on your clit to a rhythm older than everything you've ever known. His eyes stayed closed, his tongue moved on its own, his fingers gripped onto your legs firmly with no sign of ever letting go. He was in his own little world, lost in the taste of your pussy and your slick dripping down his chin. The ache of his cock hard as rock faded into the background of your moans and your sighs and all the little noises that drove him insane every time they blessed his ears. It was as soft and cottony as a dream, to lay between your legs, at home on the couch you bought together from a kind old couple with many dogs and a chicken coop. It was soothing, grounding. He emerged from his trance, feeling like he woke up from deep sleep, when you pulled his head up by the hair and with a head under his chin.
"Vessel !! Hello ?"
He blinked. The lights felt bright,despite being dim. He took deep breaths.
"Oh…"
"Are you okay ? Are you lightheaded ?" you asked, holding his face still.
"Yeah, uh… no I'm not," he lied. "You don't want me to continue ?"
"Vessel, you made me cum… I lost count at around six. Maybe seven."
He stared at you like you'd grown wings and hooves, still as a statue and alert.
"You're messing with me right now," he said in disbelief. "You're having a laugh. You're too old for that joke."
"Well first of all there is no such thing as too old to be down with the kids," you retorted with a grin. "Second of all I wish I was joking. How many times did you think I came ?"
He looked down at the couch. Judging by the mess between your thighs, your claim might not be so far off.
"I uh… I didn't count either."
Actually, he had a hard time believing what just happened to him. Time often flied when you two were having sex, but he wondered how much time passed while he was in this… dreamlike mind-space. Everything felt soft, warm, sweet… He was already looking at your cunt with lust, just shy of drooling. You caught his gaze just in time.
"Nope. Not yet, Mister. You're still out of it."
"Yeah, and there's nothing more that I want than to be inside."
His lips crashed against yours as his fingers found their way to your hair at the back of your head. He brushed your concern away with his tongue on your lips. It was a heated, hungry, yet sweet as cotton candy and infinitely enamored kiss, you savored it until oxygen ran out. He gently lied you down, a thumb brushing tenderly along your cheeks, soothing you while he settled between your legs once again and his bulge pressed on your soaked pussy. It was obscene how messy the front of his pants were, with pre-cum from him and cum from you, gathering over his dick, still as hard as before, trying to breath out of the fabric. He couldn't help but groan into your mouth, the vibration coursing through your teeth and into the deepest part of yourself.
And yet, he was too focused on your soft lips,
the texture of your hair,
your nails on his scalp, making his eyes roll back,
your chest against his…
"Vessel ?" you called, pulling him out of his reverie.
"What is it, my love ?" he answered, always eager to fulfill your needs.
"I love you and you are the sweetest, most handsome boy in the world, gentle in nature, and also I love you, but for the love of fuck, take your pants off and fuck me."
You both giggled at this, but he got the message.
"Everything you want, my darling," he said while unbuckling his belt.
He placed a quick last peck on your lips, before his pants joined yours somewhere on the floor. You took care of both your shirts before you wrapped your legs around him, and the contact of the inside of your thighs on his hips made him twitch. You pulled him to you with your arms and your legs, but he was so tall that his lips were too far away, so you placed a soft, nearly innocent kiss at the base of his neck, and you felt his dick dribble on you.
"You're so down bad. Absolutely whipped," you joked.
"You drive me absolutely mad," he whispered in a more genuine tone.
He reached down between your bodies on fire to grab himself and guide himself to your entrance. He brushed his cock head across your pussy, gathering slick and bumping against your clit, making both your breaths catch. You smiled up at him, but he was the one focused now, dead set on making it inside without busting before. Very carefully and very slowly, he pushed inside, slid in with infinite patience, savored the feeling of how dripping wet you were for him, how he could slide in like through hot butter. Once settled in to the hilt, he restrained himself from bucking into you and pressed his mouth to our neck, to kiss you, to unravel you, and to suck hickeys into your skin to brand you. He spoke between kisses :
"I love you," kiss, "and you are gorgeous," kiss, "and you taste like heaven," kiss, "and you feel like home."
Full of him, his words echoed in your brain and bounced off the walls of your skull. You feel like home. The words promised to make your head spin long after the night is through. You held him tighter and dug your nails into his back. He bucked with a hiss, curling over you and pressing himself inside you to the hilt, as if he could fit anymore of him in there. He cursed under his breath, buried his face in your shoulder, and started fucking into you like it was the last time he got to. You could feel him in your throat. You held onto him as best as you could while he desperately rutted into you. His hips hammered into you, trying his hardest not to bruise you, but as much of a gentleman as he was, he was so fucking horny for you and just needed to fuck you until you couldn't walk. And what could he do about it ? He was just a vessel. And so he did what a vessel did best : being the recipient to your pleasure. His hands grabbed handfuls of your hips, promising tasteful bruises for breakfast tomorrow, and slammed himself into you again, and again, and again, pulling you more and more towards your climax. The noise of his balls hitting your ass and the squelching of your dripping cunt couldn't be more obscene, and it made both your heads spin. As you felt his balls draw up against your skin, he bent back down over you to grab you by the neck and swallow your screams. His fingers joined your clit to rub it vigorously as you arched and bucked against him with all your might in pleasure, but he didn't budge. He stayed anchored to you, unmoving, holding onto you despite your body trying to break out of itself. As you tightened around him, he could swear his brain was leaking out of his dick, grey matter being white after all. His hips did little spasms-like bucks into you, as he held his breath and came into you. His embrance was still tight around you once the flood was through. Slowly, he allowed himself to breathe. He looked up at you, and your fucked-out dazed and disheveled look he adored more each time than the times before.
"Deep breaths, my love," he whispered against the sheen of sweat on your forehead.
He pulled out slowly. This simple friction felt like it was rattling your bones and making them vibrate until they were soft and flacid. While keeping skin-on-skin contact by holding your hand, Vessel got up and stretched his wingspan to reach one of the water bottles in the minifridge by one of the desks. Skin contact was important to you after sex like it was important between a mother and her newborn baby. After making sure you were breathing somewhat normally and regulalry again, Vessel uncapped the bottle and brought it to your lips. Your eyes were still not open since the moment you screwed them shut as your rgasm crashed over you. He let you nurse the bottle for a while, took it away so you wouldn't chug it, and let you drink some more before drinking himself. He considered staying on the ground and watching you sleep, as you seemed so comfortable and he didn't want to jostle you around so early after sex, but you, oh you, you would never let him do that, would you ? As adorable as you find him sitting by your feet, putting your comfort before his, and his comforting protecting gaze while at your most vulnerable, you liked sharing this vulnerability better. You pulled him back to the couch to lay down where you were before cuddling into him on top of him. Your legs tangled, and his heart sang to you with your ear plastered to his chest. You felt him breathe and it lulled you to safety and love. He held you in a comfortably tight mbrace, tucked in his arms in such way that neither of you could move, like a boy and his plushie. He nuzzled his face into your hair. He always loved the smell of it, even in your least glorious state. One of his palms rested between your shoulder blades, with his fingers splayed. You felt like it was covering your whole back with how large it was. You licked and kissed his collarbone and it made him smile against your hair. In this moment, there was very little to say.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Everything was said in those words. It was also said in the moment you just shared and the moment you are sharing right now : the calm dreamy pocket of time after heated passion where every intention seeps through your skins like you were one organism. It was in the home you built. It was in the rituals you implemented in your daily lives that kept the fire going strong and kept it from burning everything down. It was in the discarded clothes on the ground, tangled just as you were on the couch. It was in the lego set sitting on the shelf across the room, one of the many witnesses of your love.
— Perfume samples, lipstick shades, and a boyfriend who thinks everything looks good on you.
A short fanfic for the lovely @altarofaching!
The perfume section was, apparently, the most important place in the entire store. At least, that's what Vessel had gathered from the last twenty minutes.
"Okay, smell this one."
He obediently leaned down as you held a little paper tester beneath his nose. "It smells nice."
You narrowed your eyes. "That's what you said about the last one."
"It also smelled nice."
"You're terrible at this," you said, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.
"Am I?" He tilted his head to the side and looked down at you.
"Yes." You grabbed another bottle from the display and sprayed it onto a fresh strip. "Try this one."
Again, he leaned down without complaint. His large hand remained occupied with your shopping basket, already overflowing with things you'd picked up throughout the afternoon. A sweater, a candle, three pairs of cute fuzzy socks, a notebook you absolutely didn't need, and whatever else had caught your attention.
"Hm," he hummed thoughtfully.
Your eyes widened. "Oh? You have an opinion?"
"This one smells like something you'd wear."
Your heart immediately melted, and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned at you.
"I like this one." You turned the glass perfume bottle in your hand, reading the label.
"Found the winner, then?"
A laugh escaped you, and you nodded, gently placing the glass perfume bottle into the shopping basket your boyfriend carried.
Eventually, you wandered away from the perfume displays and toward the makeup section. Vessel followed faithfully, watching closely as you picked up a lipstick, trying to seem more interested.
"What about this color?" You took the cap off the lipstick and held it out to him.
He eyed it for a moment, pretending to inspect the product. "It looks pretty."
"Really?" you asked, staring at him for a long moment before he looked back at you.
"I mean..." His shoulders lifted slightly. "You'll be the one wearing it, so yeah, I think it's pretty."
The butterflies in your stomach were getting ridiculous, and you couldn't fight the cheesy smile that crossed your face before swiftly plucking the lipstick from his hand, putting the cap back on, and tossing it into the shopping basket.
A few minutes later, after testing entirely too many products, you finally settled on a handful of things and headed toward the register. The cashier scanned your items quickly, and when she was done, you unzipped your purse and reached for your wallet, but a hand settled gently over yours.
You looked up. "Vess."
"I've got it."
You didn't even have a chance to argue because he'd already pulled out his card, and while the cashier bagged your items, you stood beside him, trying and failing not to smile.
When everything was bagged, Vessel naturally took them, all of them, including the ones you reached for.
"I can carry something," you protested.
"You are carrying something," he affirmed and reached over with his free hand, intertwining your fingers with his.
You squeezed his fingers as his thumb brushed over your knuckles, and Vessel glanced down at you. "Finished shopping?"
You looked toward the rest of the mall, then back at him. "...Maybe."
A quiet groan left him, but without a single complaint, he adjusted the bags in his hand and followed wherever you wanted to go next.
