im-like-reallythirsty

[im-like-reallythirsty]

Hey there 😊💤 26, 33 & 34 with Ezra

hi!! 💗💞 aww i haven’t written for ezra in so long, i missed him 🥺🌱💎 thank you for sending in an ask!

26 - does your muse have any odd or atypical sleeping habits?

I think, contrary to popular fanon belief hehe, Ezra can’t fall asleep just anywhere or at anytime. He gives me major insomniac energy - spending hours into the night toiling over research until his under-eyes grow purple or venturing through the darkness and getting himself into capers with horrors that go bump only in the night. He has to simulate a cocoon whenever he’s ready to sleep so he can shut himself off from the rest of the galaxy, even if it’s only imagined. And yes - he sleeps with socks on.

33 - when sharing a bed with someone else, is your muse a cuddler?

Definitely. If the bed is fit for one but he has to share, Ezra is not the type to shrink himself to the edge to the point where he’s nearly falling off the mattress. He’s not budging from his spot of comfort, no matter how minimal. He’ll talk his bunkmate’s ear off - I can imagine him fiddling with the buttons and switches on Number Two’s robotic armor and drawling on about stories of his travels, both fictional and factual, uninterrupted by his companion’s silence.

If he’s romantically inclined, he’ll get a little playful when you’re trying to sleep.

Brush the back of his fingers against your bare bicep because, “You had some… aurelac membrane on you.” Yeah, right.

Turn over from his back to his stomach only to face you; his sleepy, warm breaths puffing softly against your shoulder.

You don’t know if he’s done it on purpose, or if his body subconsciously sought you out in the night, but sometimes you’ll wake up with him molded to your back and his arms wound firmly around your waist, his prickly chin hooked over your shoulder and his cheek pressed against yours.

34 - has your muse ever cried themselves to sleep?

Many, many times. To best know how to get underneath the skin of others, to throw their scent off his guilty tracks, to masterfully negotiate deals that end with him on top, Ezra has had to study the emotions of others to a neurotic degree, and feel them in turn. Paired with a rough upbringing and a traumatic, tumultuous adulthood, Ezra has a lot of tears in his reserve that he needs to drain periodically, else he would be unable to maintain his smarmy facade. He only allows a river of tears to carry him into sleep when he’s out of sight of others - that is, until he has a romantic partner. Ezra won’t let anyone but his most intimate companions see him let go in that way, but when he does, it’s the most rejuvenated he’s ever felt in his rugged life.

send me springtime🌸/sleepytime💤 prompts here!

#ezra prospect x reader

[im-like-reallythirsty]

Tiny Stitches (Adrian Chase x gn!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT, Graphic injury detail, Handjob

Summary: Your Halloween plans are cancelled last minute. You’re ready for a night alone eating Halloween candy until Vigilante comes to your door needing stitched up.

A/N: Based on this ask by @impossibleheartflower - thank you! No pronouns are used but the reader is wearing a slutty nurse outfit. It’s pretty nondescript (e.g. no specific mention of skirt or pants) so the slutty nurse outfit can be whatever you want it to be. Maybe the real slutty nurse outfit is the friends we made along the way.

Masterlist

Chapter text

You dip your hand in your bubble bath to test the temperature - it’s not exactly going to make up for the fact that your Halloween date flaked at the last second but you know you’ll feel better when you take off this ridiculous costume and sink into the bubbles.

You hear a distant knock from your front door and turn off the tap. 

It’s sort of late for trick-or-treaters. Right? Maybe your apartment is the last stop for the kids who live in your building. You don’t want to end up on a register somewhere so you pull on a robe over your sexy nurse costume.

“Coming!” You rush out of the bathroom to unchain your front door. 

You let out a gasp of shock when you open it. Thud. A man’s body falls backwards into your apartment.

“What the fuck?!” 

Is he… dead?

Dread fills you as your eyes ping over every part of his figure, looking for signs of life. But it’s hard to tell when he’s dressed in a black and teal Halloween costume with his face completely concealed by a mask. 

Almost completely. 

His eyes are just visible behind the red visor on his mask. He blinks up at you. He blinks. He’s alive. 

The man dressed up as the masked Vigilante of Evergreen groans. “It’s me... Sorry.”

That voice is familiar. “Who- ?”

Vigilante stares up at you standing over him. He knows he’s got more pressing matters to worry about than being offended that you don’t recognise his voice but he can’t help it. He’d know your voice anywhere. Hell, he even recognises the way your keys jingle in the hallway when you get home from work. 

“I’m your neighbour… from across the hall.” He clutches his side with one hand so he can rip off his mask with the other. 

Oh.

‘Hot guy’ is the stupid thought that pops into your head when you stare at his upside-down face lying across your doorway. You realise who he is now after all, under his Halloween costume, with his dark, curly hair and sharp jaw - all that’s missing is his glasses. You’re not even sure of his name - you’ve been so used to referring to him as ‘Hot Guy Across The Hall’ in your friends’ group chat for months that you’re more accustomed to his calling him that in your head.

‘Hot Guy Across The Hall took a package in for me today.’

‘I bet you’d like to take a package from Hot Guy Across The Hall.’

You snap out of it when you see a trickle of blood drip onto your floor. You look at the gloved hand clutching his side - he’s holding a wound on his abdomen. A dark puddle of blood leaks through the fabric, staining the white parts of his gloves crimson. A new terror sets in as you realise he’s been attacked.

“Please, I need a nurse.”

“This…” You look down at your red and white polyester outfit and the plastic stethoscope around your neck that’s visible underneath your open robe. “This is a Halloween costume.”

“I know that. I’ve seen you in scrubs.”

“I’m a vet.”

“Uh, thank you for your service?”

“A veterinarian.” You stick your head out the door and look up and down the hallway, worried about anyone stumbling upon the bloody scene. “Get in here.” You slip off your robe so you can move freely, then bend down and drag Hot Guy Across The Hall by his underarms into your apartment, sliding him across your wooden floor and shutting the door behind him. 

Shit, what was his name?

“Aidan, right?”

“Close enough.” He groans, staring up at your ceiling. 

“Can you get up if I help you?” 

“Mhm,” he winces in affirmation and you bend down to put his arm around his shoulder. He inhales sharply, holding onto his side as you help him across your small apartment into your bedroom. You’re glad your apartment is clean. Not that you’d admit out loud that you’d tidied it specifically just in case your date had gone well tonight.

You help him onto your fresh bedspread. The blood is definitely going to stain your new sheets. Perfect.

“Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with.” You say, tossing the plastic stethoscope aside and sitting beside him on the edge of the bed so you can assess the wound. “Wait, is your costume a onesie?”

“No,” he groans. “I just need to take off the belt-” He swears when he removes his hand from his side to unfasten his gunbelt. A jolt of adrenaline courses through you when you realise that attached to him are real guns.

“Okay, let me do that. You just keep applying pressure” You say, moving his hands from his belt to his wound. The sound of metal on metal clicks in your silent bedroom when you gently unthread the belt from the loops. “There we go, you’re doing great,” you soothe as you place the belt and his gun on the floor and roll up the top half of his suit. Your fingers tremble slightly when you realise the fabric under them isn’t cheap polyester. It’s thick. Lined with what you expect is Kevlar. This is no bargain bin Halloween costume.

Oh shit.

There’s a long but shallow knife wound running down his ribs. From your limited knowledge of the human body, it doesn’t look like there’s any damage to his vital organs. But it’s gruesome. “I’ll get my car keys - I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“Wait!” He tries to sit up but yelps in pain and lies back again.

“Please, I can’t go there… Too many questions.”

It confirms your suspicions. 

“You’re not dressed up for Halloween.” It’s not a question but you look up to see his response all the same. You’ve been so focused on his injury that you haven’t noticed the way his green eyes have been searching your face. He slowly shakes his head and looks at you beseechingly. Ugh. You can’t say no to those pretty eyes. It’s why you ended up becoming a vet - you just can’t resist the stupid, puppy-dog eyes. 

“I don’t have any anaesthetic. This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep that sentiment in mind when you’re screaming in a second.”

You leave him and boil some water while you busy yourself finding your medical supplies and a bottle of vodka. You set up your things on the bedside table while you sit on a throw pillow on the floor next to the bed.

“God, this is always the worst bit.” He says, squinting at you dipping the gauze in the boiled water, getting ready to clean out the wound.

“Don’t you normally wear glasses?”

“They’re in my pocket.”

You reach into his pocket and carefully place them on his face. “Better?” He nods. “Or maybe you don’t wanna see this?” 

“Aren’t you gonna clean it out with vodka first?” He asks as your hand hovers over his wound, holding the gauze.

“Hell no - that’s only in the movies. Alcohol can damage your tissue. This is for us.” You open the bottle with one hand, take a quick swig and shudder before handing him the bottle.

“Shouldn’t you be sober for this?”

“Hey, the dogs never complain when I turn up to work drunk.”

“They don’t?”

Your face cracks into a smile as you take in the sincerity of his look. “A joke. I’m joking.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He takes a long gulp of vodka, screws up his face and passes it back to you.

You clean his wound and he clenches his fists, breathing heavily. 

“So, you said you’ve done this before?” You ask, trying to distract him.

“Yeah,” he says through gritted teeth.

You scan his toned lower abdomen and spot a gruesome-looking scar just under his navel. “Oof, I can tell. That looks like shit.”

“Hey-” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale when you give the wound one last wipe. 

You thread the sterilised needle. “You ready?”

“Wait.” He extends his arm towards the vodka and you pass it to him so he can take another drink. He shakes his head. “Ready.”

“I’ll be quick. I promise.”

He groans when the needle breaks his skin. “So, what’s your name? If it’s not Aidan.” If you keep him talking, you can take his mind off the pain. Keep him conscious.

“It’s Adrian.”

“How about that? I was close.”

“I know yours. I get your packages sometimes.” He says your full name and address as if reciting a poem.

“Well remembered,” you say, furrowing your brow in concentration as you make the next stitch. He grabs your shoulder instinctively.

“Sorry,” he whimpers.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good.”

His grip tightens at that.

“Anyway, how come you’re home more than me? You always get my packages. Doesn’t doing all this keep you busy?”

“I work nights. Mostly. Evenings too at my other job.”

“You’re a waiter, right? I’ve seen your uniform.”

“Busboy.”

“That’s cool,” you jabber on, focusing on keeping him distracted. “Must be a pretty convincing secret identity.”

“Right?!” He perks up at this, extremely pleased that you think his secret identity is a good one. 

“Bussing tables in the evenings then committing murder at night?”

“It’s not murder.” He grimaces again. The grip on your shoulder is now vice-like. “It’s holding people accountable.”

“Sure, sure…” you say. You feel strangely calm. It’s as if the shy, awkward dude on your couch is just cosplaying as Vigilante. Even though you’re currently stitching up his fresh wound from whatever the fuck it is he’s been up to tonight.

“...You’re not gonna, like, tell anyone, right?” You feel his eyes studying your face as you continue stitching him up.

“That depends. What are you gonna do for me?”

For some reason, his cheeks turn crimson and he blinks rapidly behind his glasses.

“Uh, like what?” he blusters.

“Does your job have any perks?

“Uh… Do you need me to kill someone?”

“No!” And despite the absurdity of the question, you laugh. “I meant like free pink lemonade for life in exchange for stitching you up.”

“Ohhhh, right. I dunno. I might get asked a lot of questions if I give you free drinks.”

“More questions than you’d get at the hospital if I took you there instead?”

“Uh, no, probably not.” He chews his lower lip seriously and it makes you feel bad for teasing him in his sorry state. 

“I’m kidding, dude. My lips are sealed.”

The fact he’s Vigilante doesn’t scare you in the way you know it should. You know you should absolutely phone the police. But you kind of enjoy sharing this. A dirty little secret between the two of you. 

“Pink lemonade is overhyped,” he says after a few beats.

“Is is not! It’s like the best kind of lemonade.”

“It is - ow! Sorry! Okay, sorry for saying it’s overhyped! Pink lemonade is great. Jesus.”

“That wasn’t on purpose - sorry. It’s just the last stitch… Keep holding onto my shoulder if you want?” Before you even finish the suggestion, his blood-stained gloved grips onto your white nurse outfit. “You’re being so brave.” 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers.

His whimper makes you feel flustered in a way you hadn’t expected. And you’re pretty sure it’s nothing to do with the task at hand.

You can’t think of a response to comfort him. Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired - usually, your patients are much fluffier. You stop short of calling him a good boy and patting his head

Finally, you tie off your last stitch and squeeze some antibacterial ointment onto the neat row of stitches. 

“Done. Now take a look at this.” With difficulty, he hoists himself into his elbows to look at his stomach. “Evenly spaced stitches, not too tight, yeah? Now look at these.” You point at the scar on his lower abdomen. “Tiny stitches. They’re too tight. And you shouldn’t make X’s when you sew yourself up. Not bad for a second try, though.”

“That was like the fifth time I’ve done it,” he pouts. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Look, you can feel how it’s gone all bumpy.” You trace your fingers along the scar, feeling the way the skin has healed unevenly under the trail of hair on his stomach. 

He flushes again as he looks down at you, your fingers brushing his abdomen.

“What?”

“Sorry.” He lies back again, determinedly looking at the ceiling.

“For what? Oh.” Your forearm brushes against something hard in his pants as you remove your hand from his stomach. “My bad.”

“It’s not - ” he winces, trying to sit up further but changes his mind mid-way through. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt?”

“My… my boner?”

“No!” You crack up laughing again and he joins in uncertainly as if not sure why. “Your very recent knife wound?”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean - no.” His eyes linger on your body and you suddenly feel very aware of the fact that you’re kneeling at his side wearing not very much clothing. He swallows and looks away quickly. “Y’know, I should go. I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

You laugh like it’s nothing. That this whole situation is totally in your comfort zone.

“Don’t worry about it. I was supposed to be going to a Halloween party with a date but they bailed.”

“They bailed on you?”

“Eh, it happens.” You shrug. “They mighta had a better offer.”

“Than you?” He looks at you seriously and pushes his glasses higher up his nose. “No way. Not possible. You’re, like, a ten.”

You tilt your head and look at him carefully. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when you get up from the floor, sit on the bed next to him and place the back of your hand on his forehead.

“Wha - what are you doing?”

“You don’t seem to have a fever…” His eyebrows scrunch together as he gazes up at you through his wire-rimmed frames. “I just thought you might be hallucinating.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not hot.”

“You don’t have to compliment me just because I stitched you up.”

“Am not!” he protests like you’re teasing him. “I’d compliment you all the time if you didn’t run off every time I saw you.”

It’s your turn to protest. “I do not ‘run off’.”

Although it’s not strictly true. You sort of do. You just thought he hadn’t noticed.

“Uh, yeah!” he says. “When you picked up that package last week? It was kinda impressive how fast you sprinted across the hall.”

You feel heat rising in your neck as you remember it. He had answered the door wearing just a pair of grey sweatpants, grinning as you read the indiscreet label plastered on the front.

‘HOSPITAL HOTTIE - ADULT FANTASY LINGERIE’

You had stammered a quick thanks before fleeing back to your apartment where you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes closed, not sure whether to text your friends immediately with this news or to strip off and take a cold shower. 

You look down at your almost bare legs and smooth out the front of your outfit, now wishing you hadn’t so hastily thrown off your bathrobe. It must look ridiculous.

“Y’know when I saw the label, I thought a lot about what was in that package.”

Your eyes dart up instinctively to see if he’s making fun of you. He’s smiling. But sincerely. It’s a cute smile. With dimples.

“You did?”

“Tch - Hell yeah I did. I sort of… I dunno. Fantasised about this, I guess.”

Your throat feels dry. “About this?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought I might be dreaming when you actually opened the door like that.”

You look at him suspiciously. “Adrian… did you - did you get stabbed on purpose so I’d take care of you?”

“What? No! I never get stabbed.”

“Never?”

You touch the scar on his lower abdomen again and this time - intentionally - your forearm rests on his crotch. 

“Well, hardly ever.”

“You should let me stitch you up from now on,” you say, as your fingers dance down his stomach. “The next rare occasion you get stabbed.”

The heel of your hand barely grazes the tip of his hard cock through his pants. When his eyes lock onto yours, you know you’re not being slick. He swallows. You freeze. You’re worried you’ve overstepped.

You both stare at each other for a few seconds.

You realise you’ve been holding your breath. “What else was in your fantasy?” you whisper in an exhale.

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes like he’s throwing caution to the wind. “This.” His gloved hand clamps on top of yours faster than you’d have expected in his injured state and he firmly moves your hand over his cock.

Fuck it.

Your hands work urgently, unzipping the suit hugging his waistline and suddenly his warm cock is under your palm.

He suppresses a groan of pain and you look up in alarm, worried that you’ve hurt him somehow but you can see he’s trying to sit up.

“Lie back - you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“It’s - ow, fuck - it’s worth it if I can kiss you.”

You push his chest back gently so he’s lying on your pillows and kneel on the bed so you can kiss him. As soon as your lips meet his, he tries to lift himself up again, lurching himself deeper into your mouth. Your tongue slips into his mouth as you push, more firmly this time, onto his chest so he can’t sit up.

You lean your forehead against his and his glasses push into your brow. “Keep still. Nurse’s orders.”

“I thought you were a vet,” he says breathlessly.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

You lick your palm, wrap your hand around his cock and slide it along his shaft.

“Oh fuck... Fuck - you’re so hot. Where - where have you been all my life?”

His eyebrows knit together in a beautiful, pathetic sort of way that makes your lower tummy burn dangerously. 

“Across the hall in this slutty little outfit. Waiting to take care of you.”

“Holy fucking shit.” He tenses his thighs and jerks his hips up into your slick fist with a laboured groan.

“Don’t. Stay still,” you tell him sternly. For some reason your reprimand makes him clench his jaw.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah? I bet you do. I bet you’ve been jerking off thinking about it.”

“Y- yeah,” he gasps. His cheeks are flushed pink. You don’t think it’s from embarrassment - you have a feeling he doesn’t embarrass easily - so you press on.

“Tell me.”

“I’ve been - shit - I’ve been jerking off thinking about you.”

“Doing what?” Your hand picks up pace and he squirms underneath your touch.

“I told you. This.”

“Just this?”

“Fuck. No.”

“Tell me then,” you repeat.

“I wanted to - oh god - when you ran across the hall, I wanted to grab you.” His voice strains. “Pull down your scrubs and fuck you so hard you wouldn’t forget my name again.”

You feel yourself dissolving then and there. “Shit. I would have let you.”

“Ah - fuck,” he whispers as he throbs under your hand. “Let me. Please.”

“No.” You stay in your kneeling position on the bed - one hand bracing against his chest to prevent him from sitting up and the other pumping up and down his cock. “You’re hurt. Let me take care of you.”

He whimpers and pushes his head back into your pillows. The muscles in his pale neck tighten as he swallows hard. You can’t resist leaning down and pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on the exposed sensitive flesh of his throat.

“Relax, Adrian,” you murmur, your mouth pressed against his skin. 

When his name leaves your lips, his groan vibrates in his throat against your mouth in response.

“Fuck - fuck - you feel so good.”

“You know where’d feel better, right?”

Adrian’s hips jerk up into your hand again. You don’t scold him this time - you let him squirm and work his hips in sync with your fist. He can handle it.

You kiss along his jawline and meet his lips again. 

“Cum for me and you can fuck me when you’re healed,” you whisper.

And quicker than you’d expected - he does.

A shaky gasp leaves his lips and without really realising you’re doing it, you pant with him, breathing each other’s air as spurts of warmth coat your fingers. Your hand flexes along his length as you milk every last rope of cum from him and he collapses back onto your fluffy, white pillows.

Grabbing tissues from your bedside table, he lets you clean him up without complaint as he breathes heavily, staring at your ceiling. 

“Better?” You give him a wry smile and he brings his gaze back to you.

“Yeah…” He looks down at his new stitches apprasingly. “I just wish I hadn’t been stabbed.”

“Yeah, well I’m kind of glad you were.”

He laughs so hard that he winces in pain and holds his side again. “Fuck. You’re kind of a freak, you know that, right?”

“Maybe I just like helping injured little things that give me puppy dog eyes.”

Adrian exhales a gentle laugh and fixes his glasses. 

“Did you mean what you said about stitching me up again?”

You meet his green eyes. “Did you mean what you said about fucking me so hard I’d never forget your name again?”

“Uh, yeah? Obviously.”

“Then sure.” You toss the used tissue into the trash can and kiss him again. “Pink lemonade is overhyped, anyway.”

#aww i love this reader character and you always write adrian so well <3 #adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #adrian chase #vigilante

[im-like-reallythirsty]

marriage of convenience (masterlist)

pairing: pero tovar x f!reader

rating: éxplicit! 18+!

warnings: period-typical sexism, familial abuse, attempted SA, mentions of SA, eventual smut, forced marriage, enemies to lovers (HEAVY on enemies), slow burn

summary: “you are the knife i turn inside myself; that is love. that, my dear, is love.” ~franz kafka, letters to milena

CHAPTERS:

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five (upcoming)

#pero tovar x reader

[im-like-reallythirsty]

marriage of convenience part 4

pairing: pero tovar x fem!reader

WC: 1.6k (guys this is so short im sorry)

warnings: pero being an ass, mentions of familial abuse

a/n: life has been CRAZY lately so heres a filler chapter before it really heats up. i’m determined to finish by the end of the summer!!! p.s. see if you can find the pride and prejudice reference hehe

- - -

He found you again as you washed the dishes after dinner. You hadn’t even noticed him there until two hands on your shoulders made you start. 

Keep reading

#i love this story so much <3 #i haven't been on tumblr much lately but I'm glad i found the new chapter! #pero tovar x reader

[im-like-reallythirsty]

Kinktober 9

Day Eight | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Ten

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked.

Warnings: Rimming; fingering; masturbation; pegging; blowjobs; cunnilingus; praise kink

He was freshly washed, laying on his belly. Naked, weary, boneless. He was still damp from his shower, something you’d gripe at him about if he wasn’t in his own bed (if he’d been in yours, he never would’ve heard the end of it). 

“Baby?” You murmured, climbing onto the bed beside him. “You alright?” 

Nathan grunted before he raised his hand, waving toward his shoulders. You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself up to straddle his hips. You rubbed his tight muscles lightly at first before you began to dig your fingers into the tight ridge of his shoulders. 

“Lower,” He grumbled into the sheets.

You snorted a soft laugh, shuffling back to straddle the backs of his thighs. You shifted your palms in small, concentrated circles on his lower back. You smiled as Nathan shifted beneath you, widening his legs just a touch between yours. Your eyes drifted lazily to the swell of his ass. You admired it plenty—in his sweatpants, his cargo pants, his basketball shorts. You glanced at the back of Nathan’s head for just a moment before you slid your hands just a touch lower. He held still for a few moments, then shifted up into your touch. A little thrill shot through you as you slid your hands down, gently palming his cheeks. 

You didn’t know why this felt so different—this was hardly the first time you’d ever touched Nathan’s ass. Of course, you usually grabbed it as he was fucking into you. Sometimes you gave it a playful slap as you passed by him in the hall of the kitchen. He often returned the favor, though the slaps tended to have a slightly harsher sting when they came from him. 

You bit your lip as you gently parted Nathan’s cheeks. Nathan’s hips shifted again, and your stomach flipped as his asshole twitched, seeming to wink at you. You shifted back just a touch more, giving Nathan’s ass a gentle squeeze. He groaned quietly, shifting his hips back against you. 

“This is a hell of a back rub,” He muttered. When you went still behind him, he added, “Better technique when I remember. You been practicing?” 

You smiled a little bit, letting go of one of his cheeks and gently smoothing your finger over his hole. 

“I’m just following the tension, baby.” 

Nathan chuckled into his arms where they were tucked under his head. You smiled, leaning over him. You gave one of his cheeks a kiss, then a little nip. You watched his hole twitch again, felt him tense just a little. You smoothed your finger over his pucker again before you raised your fingers to your mouth. You sucked them sloppily, making no attempt of quieting your sounds or hiding what you were up to. 

In fact, as you slid them from your mouth, Nathan pushed his ass up toward you a little. 

“You should’ve told me sooner,” You murmured, gently massaging the slick digits against his asshole. Nathan gave a grunt and a little wiggle, spurring you on. You sank your forefinger in up to the first knuckle, sucking in a soft breath as Nathan loosed a throaty groan. You hunkered down over him, feeling him flutter around the digit. 

“Look at you,” You cooed, unable to help it. “Opening right up for me, aren’t you?” 

Nathan grunted in turn, hips beginning to roll more acutely when you weren’t moving fast enough for his liking. 

“Nate?” You murmured after a moment. 

“Mm.” 

“Roll over.” 

He groaned at your order, as gently eased your finger out again. 

“What for?” He asked. 

“So I can suck your dick.” 

It was a quick but somewhat awkward shift as he began to turn, knocking into your legs on his way. His hardening cock bobbed between his legs as he settled back against his pillows. 

“Lube?” You requested. Nathan reached out, plucking the bottle up from the bedside table and tossing it to you. You set it down before you slid yourself back down to lay between his legs on your belly. 

You dipped your head, lips smoothing over his sac as you set the lube just beside his thigh.  Nathan hissed softly, pressing down against your mouth. You hummed, opening your mouth and tracing the tip of your tongue over the wrinkle of the skin there. 

“You gonna tease me the whole time?” Nathan grumbled. 

“Thinking about it,” You murmured against his skin. “If you can’t hold still, I’m gonna have to tie you down.” 

You grinned as Nathan’s cock twitched against his stomach. 

“Maybe we'll save that for next time,” You giggled. Nathan hissed at the vibration against his skin.

“You get down here often?” You plied, easing your finger in and out gently. 

“Sometimes.” 

“You have a plug?” 

His cock twitched again, but you saw him shake his head out of your periphery. You hummed thoughtfully, swirling your tongue against one of his balls. “Good to know.” 

“Is it?” 

“I’ve been wondering what to get you for Christmas.” 

--  

It wasn’t all the time. Nathan was often too busy, too distracted to so much as fuck, but on the nights that you did, he tended to bury his cock between your thighs and grunt against the skin of your neck with each thrust. It wasn’t unusual for you to not see Nathan for days at a time. He relied on you to order what was needed for the facility. He didn’t check the purchase orders, and you knew that, so it allowed you to add a few…Unauthorized items to the list. 

You just hadn’t anticipated that he’d find it before you had the chance to tell him. 

--  

You had expected to walk into your room and find it empty. Instead, you found Nathan’s hands wrapped around two things: his own cock, and the length of the strapon that you ordered. You went still for a moment, stunned, watching Nathan’s hands smooth up and down, steadily smoothing over the tip and twisting with every other pass. 

“C’mon,” He urged after a few moments of quiet. “I know you didn’t just get this so you could watch.” 

You took a few more steps inside. You didn’t know why this drew bashfulness up in you. It was your idea, wasn’t it? But he’d figured it out or found it before you’d had the chance to bring it up to him yourself. It was…Well, not a bummer, but it felt like it put you at a disadvantage. 

“Were you snooping through my things?” 

“I was looking for something.” 

“So that’s a yes?” 

“How long have you had this?” 

You kicked your shoes off before you clambered onto the bed, kneeling beside him and cuddling into his side. 

“A couple of days.” You nuzzled his cheek, pressing a kiss there as you pressed your thighs together. “It feels good.”

“How do you know that?” He glanced away from his handiwork, brow quirking. You gave him a bashful smile before you shrugged. 

“I would’ve been remiss not to test it out.” 

Nathan groaned, resting his head against yours. You grinned, biting your lip as his stroke sped up. 

“Don’t cum,” You murmured against the shell of his ear. 

“I’m so—”

“Take your hand off of your fucking cock, Nathan.” 

He groaned in frustration, lifting his hand from his cock to rest on your thigh. You grinned, dipping your head and sucking a kiss to his neck. 

“Go shower,” You urged. “No touching. I’m gonna stretch you out when you’re done.” 

“And then?” “And then,” You tipped your chin up, catching his earlobe between your teeth and giving it a tug. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t see straight.” 

--  

His hungry look made you preen when he came out of the shower. He stopped only to give you a kiss and smooth his hand over your lingerie and over the holster before he climbed onto the bed. By the time you had him open and whining for it, you were slick and aching, and fighting the urge to rut against the seam of the harness. 

You’d been joking, but he really couldn’t see straight. You watched Nathan’s eyes roll back into his head as you eased the tip of the strapon in. He reached out, curling his legs around yours and grasping your hips, forcing you closer. You tutted softly, warning, “Careful.” 

“I can take it,” He gritted out. 

“I know you can, baby, but we’ve got all night.” You looked down, sinking the strapon in to the hilt and smoothing your hand along Nathan’s quivering thigh. You shushed him again when he groaned, patting his thigh as he pressed his head back into the pillows. 

“So impatient,” You murmured, smoothing your hands over his chest. You leaned over him, taking in the rising color in his cheeks.

“We’ll just leave it there for a second, alright?” You brushed your lips against his, grinning as he hooked his arm around your neck, drawing you in. You gave him a deep, searching kiss while giving an experimental roll of your hips. Nathan moaned brokenly against your lips, nodding as you pulled back to get a better look at him. You leaned back, resting a hand on his thigh and planting your knees as you began to thrust into him. His eyes slid shut, his mouth falling open to pant and moan as you picked your pace up. Your stomach fluttered with satisfaction and pride as his cock drooled precum on his belly. 

“You’re taking it so well,” You murmured, digging your nails into the meat of his thigh. 

“Fuck, that feels good.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Really fucking good, fuck.” 

You leaned down over him, sweeping your tongue over his panting lips. You giggled as his hands hooked in the holster, his hips pushing up against yours as he swirled his tongue around yours. You leaned away, taking in his dark eyes and flushed face. 

“That’s it, baby,” You urged, “Take what you want—Mhm.” You grinned as he reached down, yanking your bra down and grasping one of your breasts. He leaned up, catching one of the nipples and swirling it with his tongue. You felt yourself clench, teased by the nudge of the strap against your clothed pussy. You gasped softly as he lifted his head, biting and tugging the skin at the base of your throat. 

“Mm, fuck,” You gasped, “Fuck yes, that’s a good boy—” 

“Oh, my god,” Nathan panted against your neck, “Just like that.” 

“You gonna cum, baby?” You cooed, grasping the back of his head and keeping him close. “Are you gonna cum on my cock? Oh,” You chuckled, sliding the hand down to swipe over the precum on his stomach, “You’re so wet for me.” 

You were stunned as Nathan’s back bowed, as his cock spurted against your hand, and across his stomach. You leaned back, thrusting still as Nathan let out a harsh shout, pressing up against the strap. You swiped your tongue over your lower lip as your pace slowed, suddenly aware of how hot you were, how slick your pussy felt. You eased out of Nathan slowly, leaning back and watching his hole flex. You leaned down, giving it a sucking kiss before you slid your tongue up, trailing the underside of Nathan’s still-twitching cock, and over the pearly head. You tipped your head up as his fingers curled around your jaw, nudging you to look at him. 

"Get up here,” He croaked roughly. You crawled up toward him, giggling as he grasped you by the harness and tugged you closer. You looked down, brows raising as his fingers fumbled with the buckles, then shoved it down your thighs. You lifted your knees one by one, sliding your panties and the harness down and off, leaving them beside you on the bed. Nathan grasped your thigh, tugging you closer until you were hovering over his face. 

The first brush of his beard against your slick lips made you jolt, your hands raising to grasp the headboard as Nathan drew you further down. He lapped at you sloppily, curling his arms around your thighs to keep you close. You whimpered, rolling your hips down against his face as he sucked and teased your needy clit. 

“Nathan,” You sighed, hips juddering as his tongue swept over your opening, his nose nudging your clit. You bit your lip, lowering your hand to rest on his head as you rode his face. Nathan let out an encouraging grunt, holding you tightly even as your hips began to grind faster, the warm coil in your stomach tightening and tightening. 

“Fuck—Fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” You yelped as you came, moving almost on autopilot as Nathan continued to lick your greedy pussy. You finally gave his head a push, sliding off of him and leaning back against the headboard. You drew in a deep breath, savoring the sensation for a few moments before you looked down at Nathan. You smiled when you found him glassy-eyed, his beard and lips slick with you. 

You reached down, smoothing your hand gently over his head. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked softly. He was quiet for a moment before his head lolled to the side, tongue sweeping across his lips. 

“I wanna be on top next time.” 

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @wild-rose-35 ; @daisyslibrary ; @informally-liz ; @andrastesflamingtitties ; @muchacha-encabronada ; @nerdygirl0414 ; @elen-aranel ; @ohbee-whatcanyoube ; @kmc1989 ; @quietpainter ; @thedreadandthefugitivemind ; @kaletastrophes ; @nyx2021

#this is fantastic i love it so much! #lately i'm mostly on AO3 but (pun) i had to stop back here and share this one! #Nathan Bateman x Reader

[im-like-reallythirsty]

E. - "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Ezra x Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 377

Warnings: mention of limb amputation.

A/N: I've been doing little prompt fills in my journal, filling up a single page per prompt. I used the "Inexperienced smut" prompt list and a wheel to pair them up with the PPCU. It got repetitive after a while, so I started trying to think outside the box.

I quite like how Ezra's turned out.

Summary: "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

The farm he had chanced upon in his wanderings was the definition of idyllic. It was like something out of those centuries old novels he had read in a bookshop half a galaxy away.

So how is that in such a place where the wind is cool and the grass soft under him, Ezra finds himself on his knees in front of a aurelac deposit.

A tremor runs through his body and he swears he can already hear the hissing of a failed harvest's dissolving gem.

Your hands have helped many livestock enter the world on the farm; even taking over when the mother and baby were in danger. At first Ezra had intended to guide you through the harvesting process, but the potential for the caustic liquids to harm your hands is untenable to him. He and his unsteady hands will have to do. 

"Have I ever told you how I gave up my arm, starshine?" He askes. You both know he hadn't, but you let the familiar conversation pattern guide your answer.

"No, Ezra. You haven't."

He looks down at the sack laying on the lid of his kit. It'd been dug out and cut from the chord without much thought, the smoke of the chemicals already wafting off on the breeze. The blade is in his hand, his grip adjusting once, twice, and then your voice steadies his arm.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

To harvest this gem that would be a stroke of good luck for your fortunes and the woes of the farm if he is successful? To tell you of the darkest moment of his humanity and the teen who helped him?

The cut is made and he's digging the muscle-covered gem out, head bent to see better. His mouth quirks and starts moving, his voice following only a second behind.

"There is this moon, covered in green vegetation. It's a jungle of living matter that wants nothing more to kill you. Have you seen a jungle before?"

"I've seen pictures, but not in person."

"Hm. The grove down by Swollen Creek. The old growth there, you know how it's built upon itself, years of felled fellows providing new growth a home and the underbrush growing wild and untamed? Imagine that, but an entire moon covered with it..."

#😯❤ #ezra prospect x reader

[im-like-reallythirsty]

wip poll tag game

rules: make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips, let it run, then write one sentence for every vote the winner got.

thanks for the tag @ezrasbirdie and @psychedelic-ink! I've never done a poll before, and this is a super fun idea! I have sooooo many WIPs so I'm choosing to play in a few of my ongoing series for this one!

NP Tagging @pedrito-friskito @whataperfectwasteoftime @wannab-urs @missredherring @iamskyereads @amywritesthings and anyone else who wants to play!

#😍

[im-like-reallythirsty]

DCEU MASTERLIST

ADRIAN CHASE 

ON BEING WATCHED 

JEALOUS

A HOMECOMING (coming soon!)

WOW, I CAN GET SEXUAL TOO series

DRABBLES: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN

ROMAN SIONIS x VICTOR ZSASZ x READER: ONE

#adrian chase x reader

[im-like-reallythirsty]

I'm about to get elbow-deep in some smut-writing, but first, please entertain me.

#prev tags: #i feel like Will is the only one who would do it properly #like making sure to also get your ears and the skin underneath your swimsuit straps #he would make sure your hat is always handy so you don't get scalp burn #he'd get your toesies #have you ever had sunburn on your fucking toes? IT'S HATEFUL

[im-like-reallythirsty]

Peacemaker surrounded by the corpses of people whose heads he just blew off:

Peacemaker watching Vigilante be tortured:

There's a difference, is what I'm saying.

#you are correct #thank you ❤ #peacemaker #vigilmaker

[im-like-reallythirsty]

Pedro Pascal in Casillero del Diablo — Dinner Party 

#pedro pascal #the thief

[im-like-reallythirsty]

Closing Time

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Bartender!Reader

Rating: Mature

Notes: Not beta-read, cause when is it ever. Just a little oneshot, set pre-show

No physical descriptions, no use of y/n.

Warnings: Cursing, flirty Rhett, drunk Rhett

Summary: “You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

You knock on the bar twice, catching Rhett's hazy eye and raising a brow. 

“You good?” 

“Fine.” It’s a near-slurred mumble, chased by the delayed glance toward a woman you’d seen him talking to half an hour ago. There are so few people left in the bar, it's hard to miss her. Now, she’s on the arm of one of the Tillerson’s—you’re too lazy to get a better look at which one. You’re already dreading whichever one might come over to pay the tab, if they bother to pay the tab tonight. You’ve been working long enough to know not to chase the Tillersons out the door when they haven’t. Luke typically turns up some time around opening the next day, asking what they owe with a smarmy smile, dropping a thick stack of bills on the countertop to cover it, and telling you to keep the change, sweet thing. 

You lean back against the counter, eyeing the few other patrons, waving at the few that have already paid and are on their way out. You glance toward Rhett again, toward where he’s trailing his finger along the side of his half-full beer. He looks back as the TIllerson’s explode in laughter. They rise from their table, trailing toward the door. 

“‘Ey,” Rhett mumbles it at first, so softly that you hardly realize he’s spoken. He tries it again, louder, as the Tillerson's breeze outside. 

“Hey!” He yells, rising so quickly that he sends the stool tumbling to the ground. 

“Dude!” You hiss. 

“You didn’t pay!” He’s still yelling after them, as if they’re not already gone. You lean over the bar and reach out, whacking him in the bicep with the rag you use to clean the counter top. It seems to snap him out of it, and he glances between you and the door, pointing after them. “They didn’t pay!” 

“Thank you for the update, Columbo. Would you sit back down?” 

You reach out, taking up his unfinished beer and dumping it out. 

“I wasn’t done with that—” 

“You’re done with it now. Sit down and gimme your phone.” 

Rhett seems to take a moment to process what you've said. Then he takes your orders one after another, reaching down and taking up the stool and righting it before sitting. He fishes into his pocket, drawing his phone out and passing it over. You eye the cracked screen before you hold it up to him. 

“Open it.” 

He hesitates, gaze flickering to you before he does as he’s told again. You bring the phone back, finding Perry’s number and raising it to your ear. 

“Rhett?” The question is croaked out after two rings, “What are you doin’, callin’ now?” 

“Come get your brother.” 

“...Aw, hell,” Perry mutters. The sound is in and out; you’re almost certain he's scrubbing his hand over his face. “Alright. I’ll be there in twenty.” 

“Fuckin’ better. I've gotta close here.” 

You don’t wait for his answer, you just hang up and toss Rhett’s phone onto the counter in front of him. You catch a glimpse of his hangdog expression as you turn away from him, taking up a coffee mug and filling it before turning back to him. 

“Take your time with it,” You warn as you set it down. “It’s hot.” 

“...They didn’t pay.” 

“I know. They’ll come back in the morning.” 

“That so?” 

“Trust me. This isn’t the first time.” 

“They get away with all that shit.” 

“They’re not getting away with anything," You fib. "If you left without paying, I’m sure you’d be back in the morning, too.” You walk over to the counter, popping the register open and beginning to count the till out. Otherwise empty, the bar has settled into quiet, save for the murmur of music over the speakers, and the odd thud of Rhett’s coffee mug being set back down on the counter. You glance over at him, weighing your options, watching him smooth his hand over his hair, the brace on his wrist nearly obscuring his face as he reaches up. You turn back to the bills, counting through them. 

“You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

“How’d you know I got a bad bull?”

“Heard people talking.” 

“I wasn’t trying to fight Luke.” 

“Oh, please,” You chuckle. “Don’t pretend you were trying to protect the integrity of the business.” 

“They act like they own everything in this damn town.” 

You won’t argue with that. He’s not wrong—but it’s also not something that you’re willing to combat. They’re assholes, but they’re assholes that tip. 

“Keep drinking your coffee,” You advise. “Your ma’ll have my head if you’re drunk as a skunk when you get in.” 

“She won’t,” Rhett chuckles. “She loves you. ‘Sides, I did this myself.” 

“I should’ve cut you off two beers ago.” 

“I ain’t that bad.” 

“Not all that good, either. Speaking of which, if you’re gonna toss, aim for a trash can.” 

“I’m not gonna be sick.” 

“You sure?” 

“Trust me.” 

“If you say so.” 

“I been worse than this.” 

“Well, that I know.” 

“You’re really makin’ me feel better.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I’m not here to make you feel better, Abbott. This isn’t Cheers, despite the fact that you chose to go somewhere everybody knows your name.” 

“Can’t go anywhere in Amelia County without someone knowing my name.” 

“Well hey, big guy, my apologies.”

“That ain’t what I mean,” Rhett chuckles. Then he perks up, patting his hands on the counter. “What can I do?”

“What?” You frown, glancing up from the stack of twenties.

“Put me to work. What can I do?” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’ll just be sitting here til Perry comes an’ gets me. C’mon.” 

You hesitate before you nod toward the flap. 

“Grab the clorox spray and wipe down the tables if you really wanna help.” 

Rhett stands, rounding the counter and lifting the flap to get behind the bar. He ducks down, eyeing the shelf that you pointed to before he grabs the spray and the rag. You arch a brow, watching him round to the end of the bar, starting with the furthest tables. Maybe he’s trying to get out of trouble with you. Maybe he thinks if he helps out, you won’t mention this to his mama. Hell, you’re not planning on mentioning it to her, anyway, but you’ll take all the help you can get. 

“If you throw up, you’re cleaning it up,” You warn. 

“Told you,” He calls back. “I’m not gonna be sick.” 

You grunt, filling out the closing sheet before tucking the cash into the envelope. You find yourself tucking it into the back of your jeans, drawing your shirt down over it. You trust Rhett, sure, but if someone comes in when you’re cleaning up and it’s just laying around, and that sleeve comes up missing, your ass is on the chopping block. 

You look over to find Rhett studiously scrubbing the bar. You can’t help but smile a little. That hangdog look seems to have vanished. You can’t help but wonder what’s done it. Maybe his head is clearing up; maybe it’s because he’s helping you out, making himself useful. 

“You gimme a minute, we can start putting up the chairs,” You offer. 

“I can do it.”

“It’ll go faster with two.” You shut the drawer, locking it before you round the counter. You reach out, taking the rag and spray from him. “You feeling better?”  

“Yeah,” He admits. “Think I just needed to move around a bit. Coffee helped.” 

“Good.” You glance toward the clock. “Perry should be here soon.” 

Rhett nods, picking up his coffee and taking a swig. 

“Want some more?” You ask, nodding toward the mug.

“Uh…” He frowns, tipping the mug toward himself. “If there is more, yeah. Please.” 

You nod, taking up the coffee pot. “Polite as always, Abbott.” 

“Not always.” 

“I suspect you can be damn polite when you wanna be, so long as I’m not a Tillerson.” 

“Alright, let up,” He grumbles, drawing his mug back as you empty the coffee pot and set it down again. You smile as he nods back. “Are we stackin’ chairs?” 

“In a minute. Drink your coffee.”

“You always been this bossy?” 

“Yes.” 

“How’d I never realize?” 

“Probably too distracted by cute girls and the Tillerson’s to notice.” 

“Jealous, honey?” 

The accusation sends heat skittering up your neck. You force an eye roll, turning away and straightening up. 

“Alright, cap it and help me stack some fucking chairs,” You grumble, skirting out from behind the bar. 

“That a yes?” Rhett trails after you like a puppy; even with your back to him, you can practically hear his dopey smile. It makes that heat creep up just a little higher. You reach down, forcing your mind to the task at hand, and away from Rhett’s fastidious and curious gazes. 

“S’alright, you can tell me. If you’d told me sooner, I might’a done something about it,” Rhett adds. You glance over toward him, watching him lift a chair and set it on the table. 

“Is that right?” You ask dryly. 

“Sure. Always thought you were pretty.” 

“Were?” You lean into it, ready to brush off the flirting, “The bloom’s already off the rose?” 

You set a chair onto the table, and before you can get any further, you feel the warmth of him behind you. He raises his hands, bracketing you in and grasping the legs of the chair that you’ve set on the table. Your heart ticks up in your chest as you keep your gaze set forward. 

“You see all those other chairs, Abbott?” You ask lightly. Rhett is quiet for a moment, stepping closer, lips brushing against your temple. 

“I don’t see anything else in here but you, sugar.” 

You push back the warmth that his murmur wells up in favor of nudging him aside with a laugh of, “Oh, that’s good.” You walk to the next table, stalwartly keeping your gaze from his as you begin to put up more chairs. You glance back to find Rhett leaning dejectedly against the table, and you sigh softly. 

“Don’t do that,” You grumble. 

“What?” 

“Pout.” 

“I struck out twice.” 

“You only struck out once.” 

“What do you call this?” Rhett asks, waving his finger between the two of you. You rest a hand on the table, cocking your hip. 

“This," You mimic his gesture, "Was never gonna happen. No offense, Abbott, but I don’t fuck drunk patrons.” 

“What about sober ones?” 

“You aren’t sober, Rhett.” 

“Not right now, but…” 

You raise your brows as Rhett lets it hang in the air. You consider for a moment before you shrug a little. You may as well throw the guy a bone—especially since you mean it, a little.

“Maybe,” You concede, “But bat those pretty lashes all you want, it ain’t happening tonight.” 

Your stomach flips as Rhett’s lips pull into a teasing little smile. “You think my lashes are pretty?” 

You laugh again, shaking your head and turning away from him. 

“Put up the damn chairs, Abbott.” 

#😆😍 #poor rhett #rhett abbott x reader

[im-like-reallythirsty]

Xena: Warrior Princess (1995 - 2001) ⤷ Lucy Lawless as Xena

#i am but a simple bisexual #😭😍💖 #xena: warrior princess #xena

[im-like-reallythirsty]

Never Been Kissed (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: SMUT, Second chance romance, Canon typical descriptions of murder and violence, Oral (fem receiving), P in V, Safe sex (male condom), Multiple orgasms

Summary: You're a PI who joins the 11th Street Kids after a chance meeting with John Economos on the dark web. Unfortunately for you, your ex-friend-with-benefits Vigilante is here too. (Based on this ask by anon)

A/N: This took a hot minute. The M&Ms were originally cigarettes but these days I'm a healthy queen free of nicotine -purr.

Masterlist

Join my tag list: @likeficsinthewnd, @she-wolf09231982, @pretendfan, @lolitstiana, @countlambula, @chiaraanatra, @stainedpomegranatelips, @navs-bhat, @ohnoitsrosie, @daisydark, @angrydragon90, @intense-sneezing

Chapter text:

The dim fire exit sign outside the back of the abandoned video store flickers as you suck a peanut M&M between your tongue and the roof of your mouth anxiously. You hope your contact hurries the fuck up - if he makes you wait any longer you’ll finish an entire party bag from nervousness.

It was stupid, really, even reckless, to meet a stranger from the dark web. But when some guy called TechConomos_11 had responded to you in a chat room where you were discussing the intel you had on some sinister goings-on in Evergreen, you knew you had to meet him and his team.

Because you’ll be damned if anyone catches the escaped gorilla before you.

There’s a clink of a padlock and chain falling to the floor, the sound of a heavy emergency exit bar being pushed down and when the door opens you’re face to face with a large, bearded man wearing glasses. 

“Are you the PI?”

If you had to draw a sketch of what you thought a guy you met on the dark web would look like, he would be it. Not a neckbeard, exactly, just someone with the distinct aura of having too much time spent in front of a screen.

You nod. “TechConomos?”

“Call me John. Come inside - the team’s all here.”

You shove the half-empty pack of M&Ms into your bag and he leads you through to the back office. 

“This is Murn, Harcourt and Adebayo.” He gestures to his three associates sitting in the office who each acknowledge you in turn. “And these guys-”

“Fuck it! Fuck, fuck fuck!”

The yelling draws your attention to the window separating the office from the rest of the video store and it’s like a knife in your gut when you see him.

Vigilante.

“Ugh, fuck! It hurts to walk!” Vigilante whines as he limps around. He turns to pace some more but stops in his tracks in alarm when he sees you. He immediately dives to the floor, launching himself behind a desk in a futile attempt to hide.

Vigilante is the last person you expected to - or wanted to - see here. It’s not his usual MO - normally he’d be out hunting thugs and drug dealers. What was he doing caught up in this operation with some tech guy and a team who you suspected were either current or former soldiers?

There’s a roaring laugh and your eyes find Peacemaker, doubled over in his chair, laughing like an idiot at Vigilante sprawled on the ground. 

That explains Vigilante’s involvement. Looks like his idol, Peacemaker, is finally out of prison and the first thing he does is rope Vigilante into whatever this is. The whole thing stinks. Why is there an entire team with two capes looking for an escaped zoo animal? Any why did one of those capes have to be Vigilante? 

You close your eyes and groan. “You didn’t tell me you were working with them.”

“You know each other?” asks Harcourt.

“Just Vigilante.” You sigh and follow them into the video store.

“Hey, asshole,” you say, peering over the desk Vigilante is hidden behind. He looks up at you and props his masked head up on his arm casually as if you didn’t just see him throw himself there a second ago.

“Oh, hey!” he says, feigning pleasant surprise.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“I hurt my pinky toe.”

“Yeah? Which one?” You walk around the desk and stand at his feet to get a better look.

“Nononono! Wait!”

You clock the way his visor-covered eyes dart down to his right foot in panic. 

“Woah, did you think I was gonna kick you or something?” Sure, you have beef but you’re kind of offended he’d think that you’d harm him on purpose.

“No…” he mumbles sheepishly.

“Asshole.” You roll your eyes and sit on the hard wooden surface, turning away from him to face the team.

“Who the fuck is this?” Peacemaker asks Murn before looking between you and Vigilante. “Do you two know each other or something?”

You don’t deign to reply.

There’s a squeak of a chair being dragged on linoleum as Vigilante pulls himself up onto a seat next to Peacemaker with a wince.

“Economos says you want to join the team,” says Murn. 

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“I know everything that goes on in Evergreen.”

“And?”

“I have information and skills that I want money for. Obviously.”

“How much?”

You were talking about splitting the reward for the gorilla but Murn’s expectant look makes it clear this is a contract. What’s that saying again? A contract in the hand is worth a gorilla in the bush? … Something like that.

“Well, what are you paying him?” You cast your eyes at Vigilante who shrugs. Unbelievable. “They’re not paying you? Idiot.”

Murn and Harcourt glance at each other awkwardly. “This is strictly off the books,” says Murn.

“So you were just going to take advantage of him? No way. I want my pay backdated for all the intell I’ve found for you. And his too for whatever it is he’s doing for you.”

“How do you guys know each other?” asks John, pulling up a chair behind his laptop.

You look at Vigilante warningly and answer before he can open his fat mouth. “I’ve sent some work his way once or twice. And compensated him fairly for it,” you add pointedly.

“Oh, they’ve definitely fucked,” laughs Peacemaker.

“Shouldn’t you be in Belle Reve?” You glare at him.

Peacemaker ignores the question. “Did he keep the mask on with you too?” He pouts faux-sympathetically.

This catches you off-guard. Not Vigilante and Peacemaker fucking - Vigilante is so obsessed with him that you guessed it was only a matter of time.

But he did keep his mask on.

Vigilante groans and leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and staring determinedly at his injured foot.

“Ha! I knew it!”

“Enough!” Murn gives Peacemaker a severe look before turning his attention back to you. “John says you know the location of what we’re looking for.”

“I’m not telling you until you get me up to speed with what you’ve got so far. John wouldn’t tell me shit online. Call it a show of good faith.”

“And we’re supposed to just take your word that you actually have useful information?” asks Adebayo.

John opens his mouth to reply but Vigilante beats him to the punch.

“She knows,” says Vigilante, finally looking up. “She’s… she’s a good PI. If she says she knows, she knows.”

“Well, we can’t divulge state secrets just because Vigilante vouches for you. Tell us the ‘where’ and if it checks out - you’re in,” says Harcourt.

You look around at this unlikely group. If you want to catch the gorilla you need their help. You need their weapons. You need their money.

“It’s at the Glan Tai bottling plant. You heard of it?”

“Pulling it up now…” John types on his keyboard. “It makes sense, Murn. They’ve got the production, the distribution channels… This is probably it.”

Distribution channels? What’s the gorilla at Glan Tai got to do with distribution? 

You keep your face neutral - if there’s one thing you’ve learned from this job, it’s when to sit back, shut up and listen.

You try to piece things together as Murn talks about ‘butterflies’ and their ‘food source’. Economos checks highway CCTV footage and confirms that your intel is correct. This is extremely lucky for you because you’re clearly talking about two entirely different things. You wonder if these ‘butterflies’ are some kind of parasite-induced sleeper agent. And maybe the food source is a drug to release them from their fugue state?

“...And the gorilla?” you ask eventually.

“What about the gorilla?” asks Harcourt.

“The gorilla is at Glan Tai.”

“There’s a Butterfly gorilla?” asks Vigilante excitedly. “That is so cool!”

“Is that even possible?” Harcourt asks Murn who nods.

You’ve seen some shit but a gorilla sleeper agent takes the fucking cake. They all seem totally unfazed so you pretend to be too.

“So, what’s our next move? When do we start killing these aliens?” asks Peacemaker.

Aliens.

You discreetly scan the others. Nobody else bats an eyelid at Peacemaker’s use of that word. 

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

“You two get some rest, come back tonight,” says Murn to Peacemaker and Vigilante. “And you - you’ve got evidence of what we’re doing here?” There’s no point in lying so you nod. “Bring it back here so we can destroy it. All of it.”

You, Peacemaker and Vigilante, leave the video store. You cross the street to get to your car but Vigilante calls your name. You turn around to see him hurriedly limping over while Peacemaker climbs into the Vigilantemobile.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re part of the team now.”

“I can’t return the sentiment.” You scowl at him. Peacemaker beeps the horn of Vigilante’s car. “You’d better hurry up - you don’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.”

“We’re not in a relationship. You know I only wanted to be with-”

“Don’t you dare.”

“C’mon, can’t you at least tell me why you stopped answering my calls?”

“I already told you - I’m not going to wait around my entire life for a guy who won’t even show me his face. Or tell me his real name.”

“I can’t -”

“Save your excuses for someone who gives a shit.” Peacemaker blasts the horn again. “At least I know you keep the mask on when you fuck him too. It’s not like he’s seen your face.”

Vigilante’s visor-covered eyes avoid contact with yours. His hesitation is like a punch in the gut. 

“He’s seen your face?” You don’t mean to whisper it. The words just spill from your lips like you’ve been winded.

“Not like that. That was just a meaningless threesome-”

“But he’s seen it?”

He nods.

You push him aside to throw your car door open and get in. “Fuck you, V.” You slam it shut and drive away, not even bothering to glance at him standing haplessly in your rearview mirror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, you and John cross-check your intel. It’s becoming clear that this is way out of your fucking league. But if Vigilante can do it, you can too.

Right?

“You want some peanut M&Ms?”.

He accepts a handful gladly. “Why is so much of this about the fucking gorilla?” John asks with his mouth full, looking over your shoulder at your laptop screen.

The necessity of any quick thinking on your part is interrupted when you hear Murn’s voice ringing from the back office.

“You told Vigilante to kill Peacemaker's father?!” 

You and John drop what you’re doing and peer tentatively around the door of the office where Murn is berating Adebayo.

“I didn't tell him to… I just kinda put the idea in his head,” she explains.

“That Peacemaker would be better off without his father?”

Oh no.

“Where’s Vigilante?” you ask suspiciously, joining Murn as he stands with his arms crossed. He looks furious.

“He’s in jail,” mumbles Adebayo. “I might have suggested that if someone were to go in and kill Peacemaker’s dad, all our problems would go away.”

You run your hands through your hair.

“How could you manipulate him like that?” Your combat boots squeak on the floor as you pace across it, catastrophising aloud. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Vigilante is very fucking easy to manipulate. And he has a record. What if he kills someone in prison and gets locked up for life? Or what if he gets himself killed trying?”

“Peacemaker’s gonna see right through this. He’ll know exactly what you tried to do,” says Murn to Adebyo sternly.

They’re fucking crazy. 

“Who gives a shit about Peacemaker? Vigilante is locked in jail with the White Dragon!” You plead urgently. Vigilante is in real danger and all they care about is Peacemaker’s feelings.

“Economos, can you get Vigilante out of the system before he screws us worse than we're already screwed?”

John sighs. “I don’t even know this guy’s name.”

The four of them look at you.

You cross your arms. “I can’t tell you his name.”

“Guess he’s gonna die in prison then -”

“Last name Chase. First name Adrian.” You blurt out his secret that you’ve been holding deep in your chest. “But you can’t tell him I told you. He doesn’t know I know.”

You crowd around John’s laptop as he pulls up Adrian’s file. 

“We shouldn’t be looking at this,” you say as you stare intently at his mugshot - the mugshot you’re so well acquainted with. You’d rather die than admit how many hours you’ve spent sitting at your desk late at night, looking at his police record on your laptop.

And suddenly, it’s like you’re back in bed with him, as he stares breathlessly at the ceiling and you lie there naked on top of his bare chest, looking into his masked face, picturing that very same mugshot underneath it.

“Guess again,” Vigilante says. You can tell even under the mask that he’s grinning, enjoying your questioning.

“Hmm… are you a doctor? You’ve stitched yourself up a lot.”

“You think I’m a doctor and live here?”

Vigilante watches as you make a show of pursing your lips thoughtfully. The warm afternoon sun streaks through the gaps in his blinds onto his bed. It makes it look like there’s a golden halo around your messy bed hair. He tucks a small strand behind your ear as you walk your index and middle fingers along his chest and down his shoulder. 

“Maybe a fireman with these big strong arms?”

He likes you when you let your walls down like this. You’re almost downright playful when he’s satisfied you - a personality trait he still hasn’t extricated from you outside these four walls.

“Man, I am so good at this secret identity thing if I can keep it a secret from a PI.”

You laugh. “I guess so.”

He didn’t know that you had long known his real job. And his real name. Or that you’d trace your fingers over his face on your laptop screen as you tried to reconcile it with the masked killer who was content to let you into his bed but never his real life.

“Wasn’t he our busboy at Fennel Fields?” Adebayo’s question snaps you back to the present. 

“Can you pull him out?” You ask John.

“It’s… done.” He says, with a final click of his keyboard. “Let’s just hope he hasn’t done anything stupid. Yet.” 

Harcourt shrugs her leather jacket on. “I’ll pick him up.”

Great - first he reveals to Peacemaker who he is and now Harcourt who he’s known for a hot minute is about to see his face too. 

You frown. “He’s gonna be really upset we know his identity.” 

“You wanna come and soften the blow?”

“I’ll drive.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harcourt sits in the passenger seat of your car outside of the Evergreen Police Department. You’ve been sitting here quietly in the dark, staring at the front doors for almost an hour.

“So what’s your deal with Vigilante?” She asks, finally breaking the silence.

“I told you - I threw some contract work his way. Used him as a bodyguard from time to time when I needed the extra muscle.”

“And then what? Why did you call him an asshole?”

“Because he can be an asshole.” 

“That doesn’t sound right. A psychopath maybe. But an asshole? I don’t buy it.”

You keep your eyes focused on the police station door to hide your face. “He doesn’t mean to be an asshole.” You swallow with difficulty. “He just has a code. Lots of quirky little rules he has to follow that makes it difficult for someone ordinary like me to be - I mean, to work with him.”

“Like not revealing his secret identity.”

It’s not a question but you nod all the same.

“So this is your first time seeing him without his mask?”

“That he knows of.” Your forehead touches the cool glass window. It’s like if you stare hard enough at the door he’ll appear in one piece. “I had to do my background checks.”

The doors open and you see Adrian Chase in his cardigan and jeans walking out into the dark night, illuminated by the fluorescent streetlights.

He’s alive.

You roll down your window and he stops dead. He stares at you in shock with his lips parted slightly - unsure whether you recognise him or not.

Harcourt stretches across your seat and calls to Adrian. “We’re here to take you home. Get in.”

When he climbs into the back seat of your car you both turn in your seats. You breathe a sigh of relief seeing him up close - physically he’s unscathed.

“He’s still alive…” He says. “I’m Adrian.”

“Okay,” Harcourt says simply.

“I’m glad you’re not hurt,” you tell him.

He looks up at both of you sadly over his wire-rimmed glasses. “I think I might have made things worse.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After you drop Harcourt off at her motel, Adrian gets into the passenger seat. You let him give directions to his apartment, even though you already know where he lives.

“This is me,” he says when you pull up to his building and park in the spot you’ve parked in on countless occasions.

“I know.”

“Right. Yeah, you’ve been here.”

“A couple of times, yeah…”

His stupid code. You could know where he lives but never see his face. And now you can’t stop yourself from drinking him in - his slightly stubbly chin from his day spent in prison, the way his curly hair is all messed up. He groans heavily and leans his head back against the headrest. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“The guys know how you ended up in jail - they don’t blame you.” He doesn’t say anything. You search his face as he stares gloomily ahead. “What happened in there, V?” you ask.

“I tried to provoke Peacemaker’s dad into a fight. It worked at first - the Aryans took the bait but his dad saw right through it. I think I’ve fucked up the whole mission.”

So Vigilante went into a viper pit unarmed and provoked a bunch of nazis into fighting him.

Deep down, you know it’s fucked up to be attracted to someone capable of such violence but if you’re honest with yourself, it’s what drew you to him in the first place. You knew about the headlines before you met him. And the idea of him taking on a dangerous prison gang really shouldn’t make your heart pound the way it is right now.

You take a deep, steadying breath. “You don’t have to be sorry about that.”

You’ve never touched his hair before but you want to stroke it and comfort him. Tell him that it wasn’t his fault and it’ll all be okay. But he interrupts your train of thought before you can reach your hand out. 

“I meant I’m sorry about us.”

Why is your first instinct to tell him that it’s no big deal that he broke your heart? Stupidly, you want to protect him from it - from the hurt he caused you. Comfort him, put his feelings before your own just because you can tell that right now he needs it.

But it is a big deal. 

As soon as you remind yourself he couldn’t trust you enough to let you in, it feels like your heart is shattering all over again, mourning what you could have had.

Trust.

“I told the team your name so they could bail you out,” you admit, desperate to get the fact that you betrayed him off your chest. “I was worried about you locked up in there.”

He turns his head to look at you properly for the first time all night. The streetlights are reflected in his dorky little glasses.

“You knew my name?” He doesn’t look betrayed - he just looks surprised. “How…?”

You lift your finger from the steering wheel to point at his apartment. “Anyone with your address could find out who you are. And your full name appears on my checking account when you cash the checks I write you.”

“So you know… everything?”

“Yup.”

His eyebrows knit together in a plea. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“I wanted you to tell me. I wanted you to want me to know.”

“Knowing my secret identity would put you at risk.”

“That bullshit and you know it, V. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Yeah you do - that’s why you had me come with you on jobs.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Then why did you hire me?”

“I was curious about the man behind the headlines, I guess. Then I nearly went broke trying to spend time with you. Do you honestly think I wanted to give you a cut of my contracts for months? ”

He presses his palms into his eyes, pushing his glasses up out of the way and trying to make sense of it all.

“So those jobs were just you finding a reason to hang out?” He drags his hands down his face.

“Well, not at first. But then we started sleeping together after jobs and I wanted to keep doing that.”

“I would’ve wanted to be with you even without those jobs.”

“Oh yeah? You’d have taken me out on a date as Vigilante?” He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again - as if reconsidering whatever he was about to say. “After all that time you still didn’t trust me enough to take off your mask. The last time we saw each other I practically begged you to show me who you are. Then Peacemaker comes back in town and you - what? Just rip off your mask and spill the beans without a second thought?”

“I was being tortured by Goff-”

“The senator tortured you?”

“Well, the Butterfly who had taken over his body. But yeah. He - I mean she - ripped off my mask and tried to cut off my pinky toe. Peacemaker was just there.”

You feel sick thinking about him being tortured. Then you feel sick about feeling sick. It’s not just normal empathy. You want revenge. But you know you shouldn’t care this much. Not when you’ve been broken up for so long.

“Shit, V. That’s horrible.” 

“Besides, if I was gonna show someone my face it would have been you. Not Peacemaker.” He looks at you sadly. “I wish you hadn’t left.” 

“And I wish you had given me a reason to stay, V. I deserved someone who could trust me. And you… you deserved someone you could be yourself with. We couldn’t be that for each other.”

The hurt on your face is plain for him to see - there’s no point trying to hide it. 

“I do trust you. It’s just…” He hesitates. “You’re the only person I know who thought I was cool.”

“Adrian… that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Adrian.

It’s the first time you’ve ever called him that and it makes Adrian’s heart leap. Like the two sides of him have finally met you. After all this time.

“It’s not. Everyone else who knows me as Adrian knows I’m a loser. And I thought if I told you I was a busboy with no friends, you’d think that too.”

“You have friends.”

“Yeah, right.”

“The guys in the video store? They were so worried about you in jail. They like you a lot.” He allows himself a small smile like he doesn’t really believe it. “And I…” You pause. How do you feel about Adrian? “I still think you’re cool.”

“You do?”

He looks at you like he can’t believe you’re actually saying the words he was afraid you’d never say.

“Of course I do. You’re still the masked Vigilante of Evergreen. And I’m just… ordinary.”

He scoffs in amazement. “You’re not ordinary - you’re like the smartest person I know. And you don’t need to hide behind a mask to do your job. 

“I’m not that smart.”

“I mean, you found out more about the butterflies than the US government.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile. “Can I tell you something? And you won’t tell the rest of the team?”

“You can tell me anything.” 

“I didn’t know what butterflies were until today.” He looks extremely confused so you press on. “I met John in a dark web chatroom when I was researching the missing gorilla. And I thought you guys were looking for it too.”

He laughs. A merciless side-splitting laugh that doesn’t take your embarrassment into consideration at all. But it shows off his beautiful smile. And when you see it you can’t stop yourself from joining in too. It’s so ridiculous. You wanted to find the gorilla, and maybe get your PI business mentioned again in the local paper. Now you’ve been roped into saving the world with a black ops team and Vigilante.

You both try to regain your composure and stare at each other, catching your breath. He shakes his head, grinning.

Christ, look at him.

“I sometimes wondered if you wouldn’t remove your mask because you were just a bad kisser. I mean, I saw your mugshot so I already knew you were pretty.” You can’t help but tell him. You know the grainy photo on his record like the back of your hand but in person, he’s frankly gorgeous. 

“Thanks, I know.”

You laugh again. “And modest.”

“You think I fund being Vigilante on a busboy salary? I get a lot of tips.”

“It all makes sense now. The only thing that doesn’t make sense is why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Because she didn’t want to wait around for an idiot who wouldn’t even kiss her.”

You stare at each other in the shadowy silence for a few moments. 

“It’s late, we should both get some rest.”

“Wait, don’t go.” His hand touches your thigh and it feels like there’s an electric current buzzing between his hand and the fabric of your jeans. The atmosphere almost crackles, like lighting about to strike in the middle of a storm. It’s the first time he’s touched you since you walked out on him six months ago and never went back. “It’s super late, you should crash at mine.”

“If I come upstairs we both know what’s going to happen.”

He tilts his head and you watch dimples form as the corners of his mouth turn into a mischievous smile. “That’s kind of the idea.”

“A bad one. We need to work together.”

“When has fucking ever stopped us from completing a job?”

“It hasn’t. But when we stopped seeing each other… I was really cut up. I couldn’t concentrate on work for a while. It’s why I needed the reward for the gorilla so badly.”

“Then we just won’t stop this time.”

“Adrian… I’ve only just pulled myself together again. I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do.”

He removes his hand from your leg to unclip his seatbelt. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Adrian gives you an apologetic look. 

You stare at his lips. They’re just there. His whole face is out in the open. And now his lips, and the rest of him, are about to leave your car and you never know when you’ll see him unmasked again. He opens the car door.

“Wait -”

He turns back around in his seat.

“Let me find out if you’re a bad kisser. At least I can tell myself I’m not missing out on anything if you are.”

“You’re gonna be so mad…” He cups your face and brushes your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m a really good kisser.”

You smile and his lips meet yours. 

It’s nothing like you imagined.

When you had sex it always felt urgent, even dangerous, getting into bed with a masked cape who was wanted for murder. More often than not he fucked you from behind, tugged fistfuls of your hair and slapped your ass. 

But his kisses… his kisses are soft and slow. And good.

You’re totally screwed.

He sucks your lip gently and then his tongue traces across yours. You urge yourself forward in the driver’s seat closer to him, bringing your hand up to cradle the nape of his neck and lace your hand in his soft hair.

Warmth spreads in your chest when he deepens the kiss. You secretly hoped he’d be like this when he was unmasked. Your hot and rough encounters were always fun but in your heart you always wanted him to want you like this. Deeply. Reverently. 

You break apart and press your forehead against his with your eyes closed, feeling your heart hammering against your chest.

“What’s the verdict?” he asks.

You open your eyes to see his green ones searching yours from behind his glasses. He lets out a long, happy exhale when he hears your seatbelt unclick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adrian’s bedroom is neat, clean, with framed vintage comic books on his walls and illuminated by a lava lamp on his bedside table. Details you remember from previous visits but barely register this time as you both burst through his bedroom door while he kisses you. Refusing to take his hands from your body, he kicks the door shut behind him forgetting about his injured foot. He regrets it immediately.

“Fuck!” He pulls away and winces.

“Careful,” you soothe, shrugging your jacket off onto the floor and he lifts your shirt off. As soon as your skin is uncovered his mouth finds it. He drags his tongue across your collarbones and between your breasts, nudging the cup of your bra aside so he can find your nipple.

His warm mouth feels almost too good to be true as he sucks on the hard, pebbled skin and moves on to taste every inch of your exposed chest, his deft hands unhooking your bra and tossing it aside quickly. 

The entire day could have been a crazy fever dream. You’ve gone from your heart sinking at the very sight of him to it fluttering like crazy as you lie back on his mattress so he can pull your jeans and underwear off.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says, sinking to his knees between your legs at the edge of the bed.

Even though you’re completely naked on his bed while he’s still dressed, you somehow feel less on display than he is right now without his mask. It feels taboo watching his jaw muscles tighten as he works his mouth all over your inner thighs. There’s something so controlled about the way he meticulously kisses the sensitive skin at the crux of your thigh that makes your lip quiver. 

You’ve spent enough time around his quick reflexes to know Vigilante is going to be skilled at eating you out but sometimes, especially in the depths of your despair during your breakup, there was a niggling inkling at the back of your mind that the mask might just be a convenient excuse not to. 

You had suspected, or maybe even hoped, when you hooked up that he had come really, really close to rolling up the bottom half of his mask and tasting you. More than once, you had caught a fleeting glimpse of him at odds with himself, his eyes behind his visor staring at your pussy and his neck muscles contracting as he swallowed thickly, strengthening his resolve and deciding to protect his own identity instead.

But tonight - finally - his tongue slides between your folds and you let out a low whine when the furnace-hot heat of his mouth besets itself over your clit.

Adrian groans when he tastes your arousal flooding his mouth. His hands cup under your ass as he pulls himself closer. You dare yourself to run your hand through his hair again, your fingernails lightly scratching his scalp. It still feels like it shouldn’t be allowed but he doesn’t seem to mind at all as his lips suck on your swollen clit.

“Fuck, Adrian…” His real name still sounds foreign on your lips, like you have to make a conscious effort to say it. 

Adrian looks up at you over his glasses, his pupils wide in the dim violet light of the lava-lamp-lit room. He takes in your glowing face and chest as you lie propped up on your elbows, enjoying the sight of him on the floor between your legs.

His fingers knead the soft, pillowy flesh of your ass like he doesn’t want to let you go anywhere ever again. And you don’t want to. Fuck the mission. Can’t you just stay here forever? In Adrian’s bedroom, panting while his tongue runs firm circles over your clit.

When you roll your hips in encouragement, he lets out a soft little moan sending vibrations over the bundle of nerves - it almost makes you dissolve right there and then. 

“I can’t believe I let you… fuck - let you get away with not doing this before,” you whimper. “So - s’fucking good, V.”

“Adrian,” he says and the tiniest absence of friction when his tongue leaves your clit makes your fingers tighten in his hair, urging him to return to your aching pussy.

“Adrianadrianadrian,” you babble, scared that his lips will leave you again. No more V. No more Vigilante. Just Adrian. Here. Eating your pussy like it’s you who’d been depriving him of this for months on end. Pleasure rises deep in your core like the tide getting ready to crash against the cliff face.

Your brain becomes fuzzy as increasingly desperate noises escape your throat - something strangled between a whine and his name. You squirm against his tongue as he relentlessly continues, determined to draw from you the orgasm that you’ve been desperate for since he kissed you in the car and you realised his mouth would feel like heaven.

The pressure of his tongue against your soaking wet pussy makes you writhe in exhilaration. You barely notice his fingers digging harder into your skin as you arch your spine and throw your head back.

Your thigh muscles tense and relax, trembling on either side of his face. “Adrian, I’m gonna - gonna cum…”

Instead of responding, he sinks two fingers deep inside your cunt, giving you something to squeeze around as every muscle in your pelvis tightens. He curls his fingers slightly and it’s just enough to push you over the fucking edge.

The purplish glow of the room turns blinding white as waves, hot and wet, break over you and your body floods with ecstasy. Your whole lower body stiffens as your walls clench around his fingers and you grind your pussy against his mouth.

Fuck, you’ve been missing out. You haven’t been with anyone else the entire time you’ve been apart and it’s like your body has been crying for exactly this moment without you realising how much you needed it. Needed his mouth on you.

The room comes into focus again gradually as Adrian gives you a last few slow, gentle kisses before sliding his fingers out of your still-twitching centre.

You breathe heavily and look at him kneeling on the floor.

He looks stupidly pleased with himself, the corner of his wet, glistening mouth upturned in a self-congratulatory smile at the way he’s taken you apart piece by piece. You can’t help but giggle from endorphins buzzing through your body. It makes your abdomen hurt from all the tensing you were doing. 

Adrian slaps the side of your ass and gets to his feet, undoing his belt buckle. “C’mon, bend over,” he grins.

You sit up, shake your head and smile. “Nuh-uh, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum.” He blinks a couple of times dazedly. “Did you forget about your mask for a second?”

Adrian clears his throat. “Uh...No?”

He so did.

“C’mere.” You hook your fingers through his belt loops and pull him closer. You kiss the light trail of hair covering his hard abdomen while your fingers work to undo his jeans and pull them down to release him from the confines of his boxers.

God, you missed it. He has a pretty face alright but his cock is fucking perfect.

Your cheeks grow hot feeling him so close. You grip his hard length and draw your tongue across the tip, tasting the salty bead of precum. 

“Take your top off,” you say, looking up at him before running your tongue along his shaft, keeping eye contact.

He grips the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it off over his head. Seeing him in the purple glow, every contour of his sculpted abdomen illuminated sends burning heat to your pelvis. You never thought you were into muscular guys, not until you saw Vigilante take his suit off for the first time. Now you’re not sure if you could go back to anything else. Anyone else. 

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock but he interrupts you.

“I need to fuck you. Please.”

At this point, you’re so turned on it’s an offer you can’t refuse. You release him and scoot back on the bed. He goes to crawl on top of you but flinches when his injured foot meets the mattress.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to - ah fuck.”

“It’s okay. Here, lie down. Let me go on top.”

He does so with relief and you swing your leg over his thighs.

“Better?” 

“Fuck yeah,” he says, looking at your naked figure sitting on top of him.

You reach into his bedside drawer where you know he keeps his condoms. Your fingers skirt over what you suspect are bags of candy until you find the corrugated square shape you’re looking for. You take it out and roll the condom on him.

“Okay, easy,” you say, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. He throbs under the grip of your hand in anticipation. “Don’t overexert yourself.”

“You were totally cool with me over-exerting myself on the floor a second ago.”

“I was talking to myself,” you smirk. “It’s been a while.”

You ease yourself down onto his cock, feeling the beautiful stretch as you adjust to his size. 

“Shit…” he breathes, clamping his hands down hard on your hips, forcing you to bottom out. His eyebrows knit together and he sighs through parted lips, feeling the way your walls stretch around him. He looks so beautiful - you can’t stop looking at his lips.

You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his head so you can lean down and kiss him. The taste of your juices registers on your tongue as his enters your mouth. You deepen the kiss and Adrian responds by jerking his hips up needily, pressing into your g-spot.

You moan and suck on his bottom lip, gently rolling it between your teeth as he pushes into the most sensitive part of your centre. Searing heat burns low in your belly, spreading to your thighs. You push yourself back up to ride him and grab his wrists, dragging them from your waist to grope at your chest.

“Fuck, you look so hot riding my dick.”

“Yeah? Rose-tinted visor isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”

You’re teasing him but it seems to spur him on, as he squeezes your tits and jerks up into your bouncing hips. Every wet slap that meets your ears only increases your neediness for him. It burns brightly in your core, making you wetter and even more desperate for your next orgasm.

Every roll of your body sends his cock plunging into you, pushing against you at the perfect angle. God, he feels incredible. Your walls start to convulse around him, clamping down and gripping his cock as your second climax rears its head.

“Adrian, fuck, I’m close…” you plead, frantically chasing your high, wildly gyrating and bouncing in time with his thrusts.

“Say it again.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“No, say my name,” he says, through gritted teeth, his neck muscles tightening in the soft light. 

His neck.

“Fuck, Adrian.” You lunge forward and bite on his neck. He grabs handfuls of your ass, anchoring himself into you as he thrusts savagely upwards sending pleasure rocketing through you. Fuck he’s deep. So fucking deep.

His name leaves your lips over and over, broken and ragged as every jerk of his hip knocks the air out of your lungs. Bliss ignites and your cry of pleasure is muffled as you moan and run your tongue over his neck, smelling his aftershave mixed with his musky sweat. An explosion, more fierce than any grenade blast bursts through your centre as he pummels his cock with unparalleled force and precision, even as you squirm and shake, unable to keep moving your own hips in time with his.

With every ounce of strength you have you lean up on your arms to look at his face. His eyes are squeezed shut and his facial muscles contort as he sucks through his teeth.

“Cum for me, Adrian,” you murmur sweetly in his ear and he opens his eyes, giving you a terminally helpless look as he slams his hips into your hot, wet cunt and you squeeze around him as tight as you can. With a final thrust, you feel his thighs tighten and his cock pulsing inside you as he cums.

You flatten your body back on top of his - the warm, damp sweat between your chests feels strangely pleasant. His fingers trace circles up your spine, gently tickling your back. Adrian turns his head to kiss you and you both lie for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours.

After what feels like a long time of lying in quiet elation, you make yourself climb carefully off of him and roll over, resting back on his pillows.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he says and you lie back watching him dispose of the condom, taking care not to put any pressure on his bandaged toe. He launches himself back on the bed with a thud making you bounce on the mattress. “Good, you’re still here,” he says, leaning on his elbow and looking down at you.

“Where else would I be?” you laugh.

“Well… you usually leave right after. Except that one time I accidentally bought peanut M&Ms.”

You look at him apologetically. In fairness, the mask was hardly an invitation to spend the night - what was he going to do? Sleep in it? “Do you have peanut M&Ms?”

He nods to his bedside drawer and you open it to see that it’s stuffed with the little yellow bags.

“You like peanut M&Ms now?”

He pulls a face. “No way dude, they’re so gross.”

“Then why…?”

“I guess I always hoped you might change your mind and come back. So I bought them whenever I thought about you.”

You look at the drawer - there’s practically enough that Adrian could have made a trail of peanut M&Ms from your apartment across town to his. “You would have made a really sweet boyfriend,” you sigh.

“Well, I mean… I still could,” he says in a would-be nonchalant type of way, pushing up his glasses with his finger and avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah?” You weren’t sure if he’d be open to picking up where you left off. But it feels right when it didn’t before. Now you know him. Really know him. 

He pulls his eyes up and meets your gaze with a smile. “If you want me to?”

“I’d like that. A lot.”

“Sweet,” he says with a wide smile, not bothering to hide how giddy he is.

You open the packet. “For the record, I’m not just staying because of the M&Ms this time.”

“I know.”

“And I’m glad you’re on the team.”

He nods happily, watching you pop a few into your mouth. “Hashtag me too.”

#awww 🥰 #adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader

[im-like-reallythirsty]

Kinktober in June: Focus (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: It’s hypnokink with Ezra. That’s it, that’s the fic.

Pairing: Ezra x f!reader/nameless!OFC (can be read either way, reader is referred to only as she/her/Birdie; no physical descriptions other than her having a vulva)

Rating: E 🚨 (absolutely no minors!!)

Warnings: hypnokink, duh; hypnodom!Ezra and sub!reader; Ezra and reader have limits and a safe word and all that good stuff negotiated but I don’t go into it here, I wrote this from the perspective of everything being consensual and you should read it that way too, okay?; dirty talk out the fucking wahzoo; coming untouched

Word count: 991

A/n: So uh, remember when I said I was gonna write one (1) story for Kinktober last year? This is it and we are not gonna talk about the fact that it’s now June. Also reminder that this is fiction, not a manual on how to engage in this kink.

Masterlist.

———

Let us begin, Birdie

Ezra watches her eyes instantly glaze over. He always starts their sessions this way, the trigger phrase immediately starting to pull her under.

Feel your breath move

As the tide upon the shore

In and out

In and out

The Green had taken many things from him: years of his life and much of his capacity for compassion. It had come dangerously close to stealing his humanity. But no loss does he feel more acutely than that of his arm.

His right arm, no less. Without his dominant hand, even one-handed activities now involve an embarrassing amount of awkward, shaky fumbling as he learns to do the most basic of tasks - writing his name, using a fork, unzipping his trousers - with the fine motor skills of a toddler.

But that was before her. Before this.

Breathe for me, Birdie

In and out

In and out

Let everything start to drift away

All the tension in your body

All the thoughts in your mind

In and out

In and out

Let them all go

Let them all go

Let your body go soft

Let your mind go blank

Until there are no worries

Until there are no thoughts

Until there is

Only

Me

It’s an exercise in control - controlling her, yes, her body, her mind, her pleasure, but also in controlling himself. The lips of her cunt glisten with slick, a delicious honeyed treat with which he aches to slake his thirst. His cock is diamond-hard, straining against the material of his pants. It would be the work of mere moments to be buried inside her in any number of ways, with her taste on his tongue or her walls clamped tight and hot around his fingers or his cock.

But he resists, because as they’ve both discovered, playing with her this way is so much sweeter in the end.

In and out, Birdie

In and out

Feel yourself letting go

Sinking down

Down, down, down

Into a warm, blank place

Feel your body grow heavy

As it sinks, sinks, sinks

Into that warm, blank place for me

He watches her naked body slacken on the bed, her arms over her head, her legs falling open. He holds her gaze from where he sits near the bed, not close enough to touch her, enjoying watching her struggle to keep looking at him.

I know you want to drop for me, Birdie

It’s so hard to keep your eyes open, isn’t it?

It would be so easy to let them fall closed

To give in

To succumb

You want to, Birdie

I know you do

Sink just a little deeper

Fall just a little further

In and out

In and out

To drop and be completely under my control

Won’t that be so nice?

To just sink, sink, sink

All the way down

To drop in

Three

Two

One

He snaps his fingers and her eyes roll back, lids fluttering closed. It had taken them so long, so long to build this trust, to find and push and expand the limits of how they could play like this. And still, every time it fills him with a perverse mixture of awe and pride to watch her fall under his spell.

That’s it, Birdie

Sinking all the way down now

Down, down, down

As you breathe

In and out

In and out

Now feel that warmth start to grow between your legs

Let that slow, warm pleasure roll down your spine

Let it all

Sink, sink, sink

Down into your most special place

Feel how it already drips for me, Birdie

Feel it grow swollen and needy

Feel how it aches to be touched

And how much better it feels

The further down you drop

All the way

Down, down, down

Knowing that if you sink just a little further

Drop just a little deeper

The more pleasure you’ll find

A bead of wetness falls from the lips of her cunt onto the bed. Ezra is sure there’s a matching dark patch near his waistband where the head of his cock is now steadily leaking. He could keep her here like this for hours, flushed and docile with arousal without letting her cum, guiding her right to the edge before backing her away, as many times as he wants. But he decides to fall on the side of the merciful today.

Now feel the pleasure start to grow

More, more, more

Let it keep building

Up, up, up

The more you sink

Down, down, down

Feel how much you want to cum

How your little pussy gets

Closer, closer, closer

And wants to cum for me

He watches her chest rise and fall as her breathing picks up, a subtle tremor in her leg and the ever-growing wet spot beneath her the only other signs that her body is following his every command.

I think you’re ready, Birdie

Your body is so, so ready to cum

No thoughts in your head

Just pleasure

Pure pleasure

It’s going to feel so good, isn’t it?

Here we go

Let the pleasure swell

More, more, more

Ready

And

Cum

He snaps his fingers again and her body arches off the bed. Her drooly pussy pulses and clenches around nothing as she cums completely untouched, compelled to do so by his words alone. The only sound she makes is a soft little moan, but Ezra feels it in every bone and sinew in his body. Kevva be damned, he thinks, for surely this is the power of gods.

My sweet, good girl

My soft little pet

Breathe through it

In and out

In and out

That was such a good first one

Let’s see how many more we can find

Keep sinking down into the pleasure, Birdie

Down, down, down…

The Green took so much from him, but it did not take his voice.

He speaks, and she listens.

He speaks, and she obeys.

#ezra prospect x reader #❤

[im-like-reallythirsty]

embers

Pairing: Ezra x afab reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, pwp, fingering (f receiving), ezra being ezra, a lot of sweat, reader is nicknamed stardust but no gendered language as far as I am aware, this was originally written with a plus size reader in mind and there is one description of body type (soft stomach) but nothing major beyond that

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: It's too hot to sleep. Ezra helps you with your frustration, but only makes things hotter.

A/N: comments and reblogs forever appreciated! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to gif maker.

It’s hot. Too hot. The kind of sticky hot that fills the air and makes it hard to breath, no cool breeze of comfort as it melts the brain until you can’t think straight.

It sticks to your body. The heat causing discomforting damp across you, in the places where flesh meets flesh. You groan and turn from your side to your back, looking up at the mildewy roof of the tent you’re trying to sleep in.

“Shouldn’t have taken this stupid fuckin’ job” you mutter to yourself quietly, aware of Ezra somehow sleeping beside you.

Ezra; you’re partner in prospecting and crime and a variety of other unsavoury activities. Right now you’re too aware of him and his warm body. He’s always too close but you’d never usually complain. Except for right now when you want nothing more than to kick him out of the tent completely so you can spread your limbs wide and try not to feel so damn sticky.

You move again with a huff, turning your pancake-thin pillow over to the cooler side. It barely helps. You can feel the sweat gather between your breasts and your thighs and on your back. The only thing you can think to thank Kevva for is that you’d at least come to a planet with a breathable atmosphere, because if you’d had to wear your suit all day too you’d have lost your mind days ago.

“Something the matter, stardust?” Ezra asks, voice thick with sleep. Guilt pangs when you realise you woke him with all your movement, but he just gazes at you sleepily with a half-amused smile as his eyes flutter closed then open again adjusting to the low flickering glow of the lamplight.

“Just hot” you sigh turning on your side again to face him, body thrumming with restlessness and a jolt of other when his deep brown eyes flicker down to the loose, thin top that’s pulled up enough to reveal the curve of your body from waist to hip, your soft stomach, and the small shorts riding up the tops of your thighs.

He suddenly seems much more awake.

“Well I certainly won’t disagree with you on that” he practically purrs and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, Ez” you retort slightly more stern than you had intended to sound and he raises an eyebrow at your annoyed tone.

“Sorry” you murmur after.

He smirks at you but doesn’t respond, his eyes darting back down your body then to your lips with very clear intent. You look back at him. He’s shirtless with a pair of shorts slung low on his hips and you always love to see that despite the hard life of drifting he is still soft and comfortable, getting by with just enough food to never be gaunt. The scars from decades of dangerous living are visible on his golden skin which is sheened with sweat. The starlight blonde patch of hair sticks to his forehead.

Perhaps he is another thing to thank the goddess for.

Like magnets drawn together you both shift a little closer, even the heat of his body not able to deter you as your eyes meet again.

He reaches out a hand and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb making contact with your cheek with a sweet caress. With a barely audible sigh he leans closer and offers his lips to you. You’ve never denied him a kiss, you aren’t going to start now but you do hesitate.

“I’m gross” you mutter against his lips when his hand pushes up the flimsy top and skims the underside of your breast, knowing the moisture of sweat clings there.

“You’re radiant” he responds.

You roll your eyes again.

“It’s sweat”

“Stardust, what exactly makes you conclude I would ever care about that?” He whispers, voice low. “It’s you. That’s all that matters”

He leans in to you more then, his hand gently grasping a breast, thumb swiping over your sensitive nipple as your body reacts to him all on its own. His words make you warmer but this time you don’t curse the heat. Your conscious of how prevalent your perspiration is but the way in which Ezra simply doesn’t care gives you cause to give in too.

“Relax now, I’ll make you forget all about the torridity” He says.

He’s intent to make you stop thinking as he leans towards you and kisses you harder. His tongue welcomely intrudes your mouth and his hand pursues new territory as he drags it down your curves and around to the front of your shorts.

“Ezra..” you whine, bewildered by how you can be so desperate to have him closer now when just moments ago your wanted him far away. His palm presses against you at the apex of your legs and then you feel his fingers slip up the leg of your loose shorts. He huffs out a happy grunt as he finds you slick there from more than the heat.

"You..." He kisses you again, even less restrained than before "...are wanting of this more than you let on, stardust" He groans as his fingers slip up the seam of your cunt, finding their way to your sensitive bundle of nerves as he makes you gasp for it.

Your body is heating up to impossible lengths and you imagine what a state you must look like; dewy skinned and exasperated from lack of sleep and a new desperation for him. Your hair is stuck to your skin, the damp beneath your breasts and between your thighs increases. It's maddening but Ezra is looking at you like you are some unearthly delight that he has happened upon in his own garden of eden. He could never make you feel anything less than desired even when you feel anything less than desirable. It's a talent of his, really.

That quick tongue of his is occupied now with other things, the delicious drag of it from your lips, down your jaw and then your neck. He groans against your skin, his fingers working their way from clit to your entrance so he can gather your slick on them. He pushes one in, and you already feel like you could forget more than just the heat, you could forget where you are entirely if he keeps going.

You whimper and he smiles so delightedly.

He’s soon moving his head to a place further down, sucking in a nipple over the fabric of your shirt. He takes you completely off guard as he pushes in another finger, toying with you when he knows exactly what to do to make you forget your own name.

"I'm all...all...You don't have to...it's not…" you stutter not even a full sentence.

"Take off your shirt" Is all he responds with. No preamble, no flowery wording. A simple instruction.

"I…" You hesitate because you really are so sticky hot and some prevalent part of your brain is still stuck on that undesirability you feel.

"Do it"

You do. The little top comes off in a moment, giving Ezra access to your breasts with that wicked tongue of his. He swipes your pebbled nipples, once on each, with it and then sucks one in to his mouth, using his teeth to ever so gently pull.

Meanwhile those talented fingers do their own work. In...deep, deep, crooking at the place that makes your stomach clench in pleasure. Back out, just a little, playing with you because he knows how much he can make your mind blank if he just makes it a little more difficult for you.

"Teasing me..." You whisper, your own hands playing in his damp hair, grabbing slightly. He knows you know what he's doing to you.

"Making you forget. Making your think about nothing else. Let me" He smirks. He is a devilish man, you decide, and you are glad he is the devil of your own heart and no one elses.

"Mmmh, I- Yeah. You can do that..." You sigh. Finally feeling his thumb barely touch your clit as his fingers work inside of you to bring on something that will make you cry out his name for all the planet to hear.

"Would you like more?"

"Don't you...dare stop"

He laughs, that delightful laugh of his that you fell in love with.

The heat and his hand make you feel kind of like you're in a dream, dizzy with all of the things you feel inside and out. You love him like this, love him to be so intense, so incredibly devious in making you feel exactly the thing he wants you to feel.

"Come kiss me" You whimper and he grins like the cat that got the cream, knowing he has you.

Ezra does exactly as you want kissing your lips once, twice before pulling away. You can taste the sweat on his skin and it only drives you more in to want. You're starting to understand his way of thinking; why should you care about anything but the two of you and what your bodies can do? Perpiration or no, he feels good and makes you feel good.

His fingers work magically in you until your getting breathy and close to the inevitable edge. He's hard against your hip but when you reach to help him with that he pushes your hand away.

"Not now"

"Feels- oh, feels so right" is about all you can give him as he slips another finger in and stretches you so deliciously. You want it again and again and again and he gives it to you as his fingers hook and rub deep inside, and you start to cry desperately for him to never, ever stop “Ez...”

“Shh, stardust. Let it take you, let me help you” He groans feeling your wetness gush around his fingers. His thumb rubs your clit in faster little circles and you arch.

You come in a frenzy of blooming heat, a pleasure that makes you push against him as if begging for even more. Your skin is glistening now not just from the torridity of this unforgiving climate but from the pure fire in your body. How can he make you feel like this every time? It is so unreasonable that he has this power, but it is so right.

Ezra licks a swipe between the valley of your breasts, and then up to your neck where he kisses you gently as you slowly catch your breath. Your eyes are heavy, sleep already taking you in to its arms as you lay your head down and pull him up for a slow, lazy kiss that keeps the fire flickering just a moment longer.

“Mm. Ez” is about all you manage for that moment, fingers playing again in the damp hair at the nape of his neck until your eyes are closing.

“Sleep, my lucent love. You’re welcome” Ezra chuckles letting you fall back as he lays on his side watching you.

You’re asleep in moments, sticky hot but satisfied enough to not be able to think about it any more.

You’ll certainly thank him in the morning.

#🥵👍 #ezra prospect x reader

[im-like-reallythirsty]

A Small Set of Agreements

Part 2 of A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK three-shot

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x you, afab reader

Warnings: dark!Morpheus, obsessive behaviour, dark!Dream won't take 'no' for an answer, disturbing themes like kidnapping, imprisonment, isolation, non-con/dub-con kissing and touching etc, 18+ only!!

Inspired by this ask for @roguelov See: https://www.tumblr.com/roguelov/721739134130143232/this-isnt-smut-but-dream-has-strong-miette?source=share

Officially now a three-part series!!! Masterlist here Part 1: Click here

Summary: You were imprisoned by a vindictive Endless, who will stop at nothing to win you over, including taking advantage of your forced vulnerability.

The grand dining hall of the Dreaming was empty, save the King of Dreams and you, his little plaything, the one he claimed to have caught his affections. Clearly, with this splendid display of all your favourite dishes, with the elaborate, ruby-coloured gown he said he fashioned from his own sand that you now wore, the miles and miles of red tulips he showed you during your walk with him on Fiddler's Green, he was trying to win you over.

Yet, despite the voracious appetite you had developed the moment you were free from your glass cage, here you were, toying with a slice of peach on your plate, very much not hungry and over all just about done with the way your jailer was unabashedly staring at you across from where he was sitting. The hungry looks you were getting from barely three feet away had absolutely nothing to do with food.

You tucked your fork neatly on the plate and pushed it away gently. Morpheus, who was leaning back on his dining chair like the king he was, tilted his head in concern. "Is there something the matter, my beloved? Is the food not to your liking?"

You gave a quick smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "The food was great, thank you. Is there, uh…" is there no end to this, you had meant to ask, but decided against it. "Is there anything more you'd like me to do?"

You didn't like the sly grin that followed your question.

"I can think of many things I'd like you to do," he said, his voice dipping dangerously lower.

Fidgeting in your seat, you fought the urge to glare at him, and instead looked daggers at the innocent, half-finished peach cake on your abandoned plate. “I’m just saying, it’s getting a bit late. Not that I had much to do anyway…” Your voice trailed off, your mind drifting off to simpler times: how, around five in the afternoon, you and a colleague would get some coffee from the bakeshop, then rush back to the office to finish wherever you left off; sometimes your boss would get a box of those fancy doughnuts delivered and all of you would share five minutes of the afternoon sugar rush and  bitching about the accounting department. Boring as it might’ve been in hindsight, right then and there, you would’ve given just about anything, including a limb, to be there instead of here as mere passing entertainment for an age-old nightmare lord.

Said nightmare lord leaned forward, still with that annoying smirk, and said, "We are in no rush, my love. The day is not over until I say so.”

When you offered no reply, he stood from his seat and approached your side, extending his hand.

"Come with me."

Taking a deep breath, you took his hand and allowed him to lead you away from the dining hall. Where to, you had no idea, and after several flights of wide, marble stairs you tried to pry your hand away, but he tightened his grip with a warning look in his eyes. Nowhere in the enormous palace did you see anyone else around, making you feel even more alone with him than ever before. After seemingly endless staircases, he pushed open a double door, revealing a massive, extravagant gallery of pristine marble and velvet tapestries. Hand in hand, albeit unwillingly, he led you to probably the largest balcony you’ve ever been, offering the most breathtaking sight you’ve ever seen in your life:

His kingdom in all its glory, basking in the orange-purple glow of the setting sun.

You sighed deeply, closed your eyes and let the glow of the sunset warm you up, pretending you were all alone in a five-star hotel enjoying the nicest vacation you've ever had.

Until you felt a pair of lips kiss your hand and ruined the fantasy.

Morpheus let go of your hand as you open your eyes in favour of wrapping his arms around your midriff from behind. Your back stiffened as he pulled you close to his chest and planted a soft kiss on your hair, just above your earlobe. You heard him hum in satisfaction as his forefinger lazily drew circles on your clothed waist.

“Morpheus, what are you doing…?” you whispered, your breath hitching as you felt him take an audible whiff of your hair.

"One of the many things I had in mind," he whispered.

You shivered at the rather vulnerable position you were in, but it wasn't like you could tear yourself away from his unwanted embrace. He had you trapped, just like the cage he'd be putting you back in if he senses just the slightest resistance from you, so you stood there, rigid as a board. You tried your best to concentrate on the view that lay before you, but it was made even more impossible with the way those lips brushed against your earlobe and then kissed the base of your neck.

“Please…stop…”

Morpheus only hummed in response. He’d been keeping you on your toes the entire day, but what he said next just floored you.

“Come lay with me, my beloved.”

“Wh-what? You mean, sleep with you?” You gathered strength to abruptly pull away from him in utter shock. He’s clearly lost his damn mind. Once free, you put enough distance between you and him and faced him with your cheeks flaring up. “I don't believe this…you can't be serious!”

Unfazed and clearly taking offence at the wide berth, he said, “Do you doubt my love for you? Have I not been clear with my intentions? I wish for you to be my lover. Do lovers not declare their devotion to each other by indulging in each other's flesh?”

“One. Date.” You said pointedly. “That was all we agreed upon. One fucking date!”

“That is why I am asking now. Will you lay with me?”

The audacity of this cosmic being had you reeling inside, close to tearing your hair out in absolute frustration. “This is crazy. I've done everything you've wanted me to do today, but you can't expect me to just go along with that!”

Still incensed, you watch him take a threatening step forward with hands clasped in front of him, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed slightly. “I am giving you a chance to recant your response. After all, I freed you from your enclosure in the condition that you will do as I ask.”

“You're fucking sick, you know that?” You backed away as much as the balcony railing allowed you to. “I'd rather rot in that glass cage than sleep with you. No way.”

Morpheus just scoffed at you, his hands unfurling to his side. “Pride. I once recall being held captive in a prison not unlike yours. I could've been freed much sooner had I not been proud.”

Your eyes slowly widened as you observed fine grains of sand trailing upwards to his curled fingers. You’ve learned to fear his sand over time. It was a source of his immense power, and judging by the way he melted your glass cage that morning into sand with a single wave of his hand, he was more than ready to create another he could put you into. But, amidst the growing terror in you as his power, something else he said caught your attention.

“You, however, are human, and I, an Endless. Would you last a hundred years like I did?” he asked, his eyes flashing silver in contrast with the last dying embers of the sun.

Your captor was once captured for a century. But who would do such a thing to him? Was this why, even as an otherworldly being, he was so messed up and acting like he is?

“You…you were imprisoned,” you said in a hushed tone, suddenly finding yourself unable to meet his eyes. “And for that long? Ho-how did you get out? Why would anyone do that? How does that happen to…someone like you? I mean no offence, I’m just…uh…”

“Being compassionate.”

It was the gentlest tone you’ve ever heard from Morpheus since after your rejection of him. Glancing up at him, you were surprised how soft his facial features had become. Despite the circumstance, you were mesmerised by the way his eyes glistened in blue and all the stars it held. His hands relaxed and the sand gradually receded until it faded to nothing. Could you perhaps persuade him to have a change of heart?

“You are concerned for me,” he said. "It is an admirable trait you cannot help but display, even in duress. Your heart is good. All the more reason for me to possess it."  His tone shifted, and in a split second, the galaxies in his eyes vanished, consumed by the pitch-black abyss that could destroy anything in its path. "My human captors paid a hefty price for their transgressions against me. I do not wish the same on you." 

It was then you knew that whatever happened to him in his capture, there was no saving him from it, there was no change possible in him. There was no hope for you.

“I have, not once, ‘transgressed’ against you, and you know it, you fucking cu-”

“And yet, here you are,” he interrupted through gritted teeth, “Refusing me the only thing I have dared to want since your kind has wronged me.”

“Then why would you want anything to do with me, if 'my kind' offends you that much?” you spat back.

He paused at words as if contemplating them. You could tell by the way his expression faltered a little that they had an effect on him. He turned away from you to stare into the skyline, now void of the warm sun you were starting to miss.

“Those who trapped me sought those which do not belong to them. Their actions caused the collapse of the Dreaming.” He eyed you sideways, and continued, “Your actions on that fateful day of our meeting, however, led me to a better understanding of my responsibilities to my realm. Do not associate yourself with their sins.”

It took him only a few steps to finally close the distance between you. He was barely a few inches away from you now, no longer able to hide the look of longing in his eyes. He dipped his head so close to yours you could feel his breath fan your cheeks, and if you leaned any further against the balcony railing, you risked falling over.

“I see you as you are, so pure and selfless, someone who has so little, yet deserves everything she dreams of. I can give you that, and more, my precious little saviour. You need only say the word.”

But you saw him as he was, too: he was a monster; your abductor and tormentor, and you, a mere human, meant to be kept in a cage in this sick game only he knew how to play. You’d never give him the satisfaction.

“No.”

“'No?’ I suggest you reconsider.”

“Alright, give me a moment.” You followed that with a short pause, crossing your arms, then continued, “There, I've thought of it. Still no. Put me back in my cage, lock me up for ten, twenty, fifty, years – hell, make it a hundred so we're even, I’d be dead by then – I don't care. I am not sleeping with you.”

You matched his reproachful and hurt look with an unyielding expression, bracing yourself for the consequences of your words. He withdrew from you with a slight curl of lips, and the sand that had once receded whirled itself around the both of you.

“Have it your way.”

As you closed your eyes, the floor beneath your feet shifted, and you were lifted to your feet momentarily before setting you back down on a cold, uneven surface. When you felt the sand around you disappear, your eyes were greeted by the familiar sight of a spherical glass enclosure. You placed a palm on the clammy surface and moved closer so you could better see where he had brought you.

It was an enormous chamber, more opulent than anything you’ve ever been in the entire day, yet somehow emptier, darker, more foreboding. Right in the middle of the expanse was a massive four-poster bed covered in midnight, silky sheets. In the dark, you could barely make out a symbol carved on the headboard: a helmet of some sort, akin to a gasmask, with an odd spinal vertebrae sticking out at the end of it. This wasn’t the artificial space he had constructed – it was his room. 

He brought you to his room so he could watch you perish.

“Judging by your expression, you already know where you are.”

The ruler of nightmares stepped out of the shadows to reveal himself. He strode with dawdling steps closer to your cage with arms behind his back and stopped only a few inches away from your glass prison.

“You have no idea how displeased I am with your actions today, my little saviour,” he spoke, slowly placing his hand on the glass directly over your palm. “You shall be punished as I see fit. Death will not come for you. You are mine for eternity.”

You shivered, but not from the cold, as he withdrew his hand from the glass and turned around, presumably to leave.

Morpheus turned his head to the side and said with a final tone, “Should you seek my forgiveness, you need only call upon me and say the word.”

The King of Nightmares then left for good, his long cloak billowing behind him, leaving only the resounding bang of the giant double doors as they closed. Left entirely to yourself, you had only one thought as you curled in a ball inside your prison:

You weren’t going to last much longer.

***

The first few days trapped in your sphere inside his room had its ups and downs.

On a positive note, you were no longer floating in artificial space and can now tell between night and day by the light streaming from his tall windows and perpetually open balcony. On the other hand, you now had company night after night, in the form of a nightmare personified, with his eyes glowing in the dark as it focused only on you. Although he’d occasionally leave, presumably to attend to his duties as a king, he always came back, sat on his royal, high-backed chair, and observed you, without a word, in captivity. It was deeply unsettling. Both of you had not spoken since, but there was no need to. 

By your seventh day stuck in your glass cage, you woke up to a different sight: he had taken you to his throne room. The sphere was floating just a few inches from the ground at the foot of the pristine stairs leading to his throne. Your increasingly pale pallor looked terribly out-of-place in a hall surrounded with colourful glass panels that seemed to shift its display of images, plus the enchanted ceiling made to look like the night sky. You looked around to see where he was, but he was absent. He may have gone off to wherever the hell his attention was called for.

But it didn't take long for you to have company. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that one of the massive double doors to the hall had opened. Thankfully, it wasn't him you saw. It was a tall, bald woman with pointy ears, wearing a fine-looking suit taking long strides towards you with an alarmed expression, mouthing something you couldn't hear.

Maybe she could free you!

Getting up and kneeling on the curved glass, you rapped the glass with your knuckles with urgency and for the first time in seven days, you spoke, "Help! Help me, please!"

The woman crouched down to touch the glass and said something, but you couldn't really concentrate on reading lips now, given how stressed you were getting. Was she mute? Maybe she didn't hear you the first time. You shouted, "Please, let me out! Help me!"

But then she motioned to her ears, and then mouthed, slowly this time, so you could read what she was saying through her lips:

'I can't hear you.'

"Lucienne."

Your heart jumped at the suddenness of the Nightmare King's voice booming inside the hall. You could hear him just fine. What the fuck was going on?

"There is no point engaging her in a conversation, Lucienne. She can only hear my voice, and only I can hear her. That is her punishment. I suggest you leave her be the next time you see her."

Morpheus appeared in your line of vision, locking his cold, pitiless eyes on your wide, bewildered ones. Turning to the woman named Lucienne, who got to her feet and bowed slightly to him, he said, "There is a new island that emerged northwest of the Land of Unfinished Inventions. Have someone survey the island and list its inhabitants. I shall be at the library to fetch the report by sundown."

Whatever Lucienne replied was to anybody's guess. With a final bow and a sympathetic look at your direction, she exited the throne room and left you alone with him. He gave you a searing look just before he climbed the stairs to his throne, fluffed his long black coat and settled down on his royal seat. You shot back a reproachful glare before turning your back to him, hugging your knees and completely ignoring him.

Several more of his subjects dropped by that morning, presumably to seek his counsel. A raven even tried to peck on your glass cage, but Morpheus, who called the raven Matthew, basically told him to ignore you, then sent him away. He spoke to all them with an authoritative tone, but by then you had learned how to block him out so you never really understood the conversations. Anyone who approached his throne had a clear view of you, displayed like a prize won from the spoils of war. Everyone ogled at you, some even gave looks of pity, but there wasn’t anything they could’ve done in the presence of their ruler. You had never been so embarrassed in your life, but you tried ignoring these looks as best you can, seeing as your captor had planned this so he could break you and force you to do his bidding. By midday, the slew of Dreaming subjects seeking their king’s presence had waned, and once again, you were left alone with him in total silence.

He broke the silence blanketing the throne room by calling your name. You heard it loud and clear, but his call was completely and deliberately ignored. He decided to call your name once more, this time with a tone of slight warning.

You gingerly sat up to see him standing before your cage, his hands behind his back and looking down at you with a disapproving look.

“Shall I take your voice away, as well, seeing as you refuse to use it in my presence?”

“Go to hell,” you replied flatly as you met his stare head on. It was getting exhausting, trying to put on a brave face, especially after he just threatened to take away your ability to speak, but you did so anyway.

“I have been there, my beloved,” he said with a slightly amused tone. “That does not insult me.”

Great, why couldn’t he have just stayed there?

“Frankly, I don’t care where you’ve been.”

His smirk only grew wider, and he started circling your cage at a leisurely pace. "Oh, but you'd care where I am going."

Why would I, you thought to yourself, and you couldn't help but raise a curious eyebrow.

"I will be at the library."

Part of you knew he was baiting you, but at that point, it couldn't hurt hearing him out, would it? Truth be told, you were dying for anything to do. Anything.

So you asked, "You have a library?" You recognized the flash of victory on his face.

"I do," he replied, crouching down on his knees to better look at you. "It contains everything humanity has ever written, including those that it has yet to finish. There is none like it across all the realms in the universe."

A library. The last time you had been to a library was about three months ago (if your calculation of your time spent in his realm was correct) and it was because of work. You hadn't had a time to even enjoy the place, and given that it'll be a long time before you even go back there (if he'd even let you), you now regretted not checking out a few books you had meant to borrow.

"I am aware you are partial to Mary Wollstonecraft. There is but one novel of hers she left unfinished when she passed."

Of course. The Wrongs of Woman.

"It lies in my library, completed, and it awaits you," he goaded on with that infuriatingly smug expression. "You only have to say the word."

As tempting as it was, you knew that by agreeing with his proposal, you would be giving away any remaining dignity you had left. Between a book and your autonomy, it was an easy choice. You withdrew as far back as you could in your cage and shook your head once.

"I can't."

Morpheus seemed genuinely taken aback by your resistance. "You would keep yourself from reading your favourite author's work in favour of refusing me?" He asked incredulously.

"I don't want it," you whispered, trying to keep your voice from breaking. "Just leave me alone. Please."

Your captor clenched his jaw and fists and said nothing, but guessing from how his knuckles turned white, he was furious. You couldn't care less if he was, though. Maybe you'd make him angry enough to kill you instead – that way, you wouldn't have to put up with all this anymore.

You hugged your knees, buried your face in them, and finally started to cry.

***

It stung. Your words actually felt like a whiplash to Morpheus's heart. He was seething, true, but everyday without you in his arms wounded him further, it was getting more strenuous for him to reel in his frustration without further taking it out on you. Your heart was farther out of reach than ever before, and nothing he could offer you seemed to work.

And then, he heard you sob, just as he was leaving to blow off steam and attend to his kingdom. It pained him to leave you in such a broken state, but you left him no choice. He had to keep you there until you saw your error. He knew the moment you said the words, he would take you in his arms and give you all the stars in the universe, should you ask him.

But even when he had finished all the work he had intended to do, even when he had already obtained the report he had asked Lucienne to make, that piteous weep plagued his mind. In all the days he's had you inside your glass enclosure, he had never heard you cry like so. He was always aware of your inner strength – your display of backbone in your imprisonment was nothing short of admirable. But you were wasting away the longer you resisted him, and he could not have that.

Despite all these conflicting emotions stirring up a storm inside him, what he desperately needed was to just spend precious time with you, to feel your soft touch, and to have you fall asleep in his arms as he read you poetry from a long-forgotten era…

The last thought brought forth a rather inspiring notion. He had distractedly drifted to the bookshelf that held the book he had taunted you with that morning. He hated having to deprive you of reading the book he thought you'd adore, but perhaps he could make a compromise.

He pulled the book out of the shelf without wasting time, and willed himself inside your cramped glass cage. You were asleep, it seemed, as far back as you could, with your head resting uncomfortably on the glass. There was not much space so he had to be careful and sat with his legs crossed. As he did, however, you had chosen to shift in your sleep and your hand had hit his leg lightly, stirring you awake. Even with your tear-stained cheeks, he found it adorable how you blearily rubbed your eyes to better focus on what exactly you had accidentally touched.

The sun had long since set, so Morpheus used his sand to transport the entire glass enclosure to his bedroom. This was an intimate moment he felt should remain away from prying eyes. Once the sand had cleared, he softly said your name out loud. His voice instantly jolted you alert, your eyes growing wide, and he knew that if you had room you would get as far away from him as you could. He was quite thankful he had created such a constricted space.

"What are you doing here?" You asked. Your voice sounded strained, probably from crying, and your eyes were red and puffy. He hated how you looked so forlorn, he had to stop himself from taking you in his arms, whisking you to his bed and kissing all your troubles away. He had to remind himself that there would be a time for that once you had ultimately, utterly surrendered to him. He had to concentrate, not on your supple, slightly trembling lips, but on what he truly came here for.

"I have in my hand the book I have told you about." He held the book up so you could better see it and know he was not trying to trick you. He saw your eyes light up momentarily at the sight of the tome, and that delighted him immensely. It had been a while since he had seen your light. He needed more of it.

"I would like to read it to you."

Your innocently confused expression was nothing but endearing. "I can just read it myself," you said.

"And you shall – once you have accepted my terms. Until then, you will have to get used to my story-telling," he countered, slightly teasing you. Morpheus had been told many times how alluring his voice was. Perhaps it would have the same effect on you. You seemed to weigh your options and tried detecting deception from him. He was starting to lose hope that you didn't want him with you, so he was relieved when you finally nodded.

Morpheus had almost forgotten how to smile after your refusal at his balcony, but the one he showed you was genuine, nonetheless.

You were quiet the entire time he read from the book, but the way you were so focused on him and hung onto every word made his heart flutter. He was halfway through one chapter when you started to shift just a little bit closer to him, your head leaning on the glass as you took to his storytelling. Just as he reached the end of the chapter, your eyes were already trying to stave off sleep and your head was falling to the side, but the limited space in the glass sphere he already occupied prevented you from laying down.

Momentarily pausing his reading, he said, "You can rest your head here, if you'd like." He tapped his thigh lightly, urging you to use it as a pillow. He knew how uncomfortable it was to lie on cold glass, and you had not slept on a proper bed since your arrival to his realm. If he had his way, he lamented, he'd have you in his arms and on his bed, the both of you stripped of all your clothing, yet draped in the most luxurious silk sheets his kingdom could offer. He hoped you would accept his invitation of resting on his lap just so he could have your bodies touch again, to feel your warmth, to be connected with you in any way once more. To his absolute delight, you did, and he happily continued to read from the book until he heard your deep, rhythmic breathing.

You had fallen asleep on his lap.

It was nothing compared to the kiss he had shared with you in your home, of course, but it was enough for Morpheus to cry a small victory: you had trusted him enough to fall asleep with him, on him, in his presence. He smiled to himself, sighing minutely, as his fingers traced your exposed cheek with a longing even he could not describe. He hardly dared move in fear of waking you up and you recoiling at your closeness, so he found contentment in stroking your hair with all the gentleness he could muster.

There, in the glass amidst the stillness provided by your hushed breathing, he resolved to be more patient: if this was how being with you made him feel, then it would be worth the wait.

***

The sun was streaming through your eyelids when you came to, but you didn't want to wake up just yet. You just had the best, albeit dreamless, sleep you've ever had in a long while, owing to that pillow your head had been resting on. You were hoping you'd be able to squeeze in five more minutes, until it struck you:

You never had a pillow in your glass prison.

Your eyes immediately shot open, greeted by a multitude of swirling galaxies that seem to float in deep blue waters. You just slept on the lap of Dream of the Endless, him and that soft, radiant smile and those long, fluttering eyelashes. You knew that stare perfectly well even when you haven't been at the receiving end of until now: it was the gaze of a lover.

He was anything but.

"Good morning, my precious little saviour."

You sat up at once, trying to assure yourself you couldn't have slept anywhere else due to the limited amount of space in the glass cage. Nevertheless, you automatically muttered an apology under your breath for falling asleep on him.

"My love, there is nothing to apologise for," he said gently as he watched you pull your legs close to your chest. "It must have caused you great discomfort to have been sleeping on such an unfriendly surface for so long."

And whose fault is that? You thought wryly. Your eyes landed on the book he had propped against the glass. The book he had been reading to you just before you fell asleep. This didn't escape his ever-observant eyes.

"Should you like to continue where we left off, I am willing to relinquish the book…release you from this glass sphere, let you peruse other books in my library..."

He picked up the book and waved it lightly in front of him.

"For a price, of course."

Ah, there it was. He wouldn't be offering you anything for free at this stage, Hell would freeze over first (which is apparently a place that actually exists). He drew closer to you, his hands leaning against the glass on both your sides to trap you.

"Kiss me, my beloved," he whispered. Thankfully you still had your knees to your chest or your noses would've already touched. His heavy gaze focused on nothing but your lips, he continued, "Grant me a kiss, and I shall allow you unfettered access to a library like no other."

You calculated your options. While you were grateful he hadn't asked you to sleep with him, a kiss was still a form of contact with a being keeping you against your will you'd much rather have nothing at all to do with. Still, you couldn't help but look at his slightly parted lips, and a memory of you kissing them in your home surfaced. Had it really been that long ago? It wasn't bad, if you tried being objective. Plus, you'd finally have something to do outside your sphere. It's just a kiss, nothing more.

You gave him a single nod.

Delight washed over your captor's features as he touched your knees lightly, urging you to lower them and allow him to get closer. You could feel your skin tingling where he touched them, but that was soon forgotten the moment you shifted to a more relaxed pose. Without an ounce of hesitation, he cupped your face and pressed his lips on yours.

Reluctant as you were, he didn't seem to mind, for he gripped the back of your neck and changed his angle, his tongue prying your mouth open. Within seconds, his tongue danced with yours, and you were struggling to keep up. His other hand gripped your waist and pulled you closer to him as he bit your lower lip gently, and the surprised gasp you let out only made him deepen the kiss. An eternity seemed to pass before his lips withdrew from yours, but to your horror, he started caressing your jaw, dipping lower into your neck and suckling your skin. You placed a hand on his chest and tapped.

Breathless, you said, "Don't…please, you said it was just a kiss – "

You felt a rumble from his chest, and he harshly yanked your wrist away, effectively cutting off any complaint you had.

"The kiss will be over when I say so," he growled against your ear, before nipping on your earlobe and planting open-mouthed kisses on your neck once more.

Dear heavens, his mouth scorched your skin, and you knew the way he sucked on it would leave bruises. You wanted to break free from his death grip and scream, but you took his thumb placed on your pulse point as a warning, so instead you gripped his coat and closed your eyes tight with a whimper. You felt his teeth scrape your collarbone before he pulled the neckline of your dress so he could bite down on your shoulder.

Just as you were about to cry, Dream pulled away, gave you one last peck on the lips, and nudged your chin a little. When you opened your eyes at last, you found yourself sitting on the floor of his room and the glass you had been encased in nowhere in sight. He helped you to your feet with his arm still around your body.

"I will have an attendant help you with your preparations," he said as he let go. "You will meet me at the dining hall."

The kiss he left you with on your forehead did not help your shaking and the shame you felt at what you just did for this little bit of freedom.

***

Morpheus said you needed to meet him in the dining hall, which meant fuck-all because you had absolutely no clue where it was. His palace was an elaborate maze of rooms and galleries, hallways and staircases, and the occasional dreamer wandering around, lost just like you were. You tried asking one of them where it was, but the response you got didn't make sense at all (to them it probably did, as dreams often were; when they wake up from it, not so much).

A loud crash and a string of curses interrupted your musing, so you followed the sound, and after two right turns and a left, you found a woman at the end of the hallway kneeling on the floor, fussing over a broken dish and the spilled contents it once held. You were on her side at once, picking up the broken ceramic as carefully as you could.

"Oh, this is so embarrassing," the woman whined, fishing out a cloth to wipe the mess off the floor as best she could. "I'm sorry you had to see this, I'm not normally this clumsy…"

"It's okay, I'm happy to help," you brushed her off as you began picking up the smaller bits and piling them on a corner. "Besides, I'm kind of lost, maybe after we clear this up, you can help me find the way to the dining hall?"

You looked at her expectantly, but she had already paused at cleaning the mess in favour of ogling at you.

"I know you, " She exclaimed. "You're the girl he put in the glass cage!"

Distracted by her reaction, you let out a soft, pained gasp; a tiny piece of the ceramic had pricked your finger.

"If you don't mind my asking, are you alright?" The woman asked hesitantly with a concerned expression.

You nodded. "It's just a nick, I'll be fine."

"No, I don't mean your finger, dear," she whispered as she drew closer to you. "How did you end up on his bad side?"

"Oh." The question had taken you aback, but you weren't sure how to respond. Maybe if she knew the truth, she could help? "I didn't –"

A firm call for your name made you freeze midspeech. It was Dream, striding purposefully to where you were. It was clear with his expression that he wasn't happy.

"You were to meet me at the dining hall. What kept you?" he questioned as soon as he reached you.

"I got lost," you defended as you got up to your feet. Not wanting to upset him any further, you tried to hide your bleeding finger behind your back, but it was too late; he grabbed your wrist and brought it to his view. If he was unhappy then, he became furious in an instant.

"What have you done to yourself?" He asked through gritted teeth, his grip on your hand tightening, his eyes blazing and demanding answers.

Your heart was beating wildly as you tried to explain, "N-nothing, it-it was just – "

"My Lord, if I may."

The woman you just met interrupted and stood calmly even under the scrutiny of her ill-tempered king. That took courage, which you found yourself being drained of every single day with him.

"I tripped over myself and made a mess of this dish I was supposed to bring to the dining hall," she began. "The good lady, seeing my distress, temporarily abandoned her search for her destination and only tried to assist me, injuring herself in the process."

Morpheus turned to you, his features softening a little. "Is this true, my beloved?"

All you could do was give him a shaky nod. You felt relieved when his anger visibly dissipated and his grip on you softened, his expression turning apologetic. Without looking at the woman, he ordered her to fetch someone named Mervyn to clean the spill on the floor, to which she simply bowed and left.

"Then, there is no excuse for my harshness," he said, before bringing your injured finger to his lips. The cut healed itself in a matter of seconds, much to your astonishment. "I should be grateful that you were willing to put yourself in harm's way to help my palace staff."

He went further by placing your palm on his cheek and then kissing it, his stare darkening as he did. You fought that nagging urge to yank your hand away, fearing that his anger might resurface.

"I could not have chosen better."

You averted that increasingly heated gaze of his, but it was too late to avoid the other thing you had been dreading: he pulled you by the hand to him for a kiss on your lips.

Dream pinned you in place with a firm grip on your waist and another behind your back, which then travelled to the back of your neck. Struggling was futile, so you did your best to hold it all in as he suckled your lower lip and drew in all your gasps, leaving you close to suffocating, just like the way he spirited you away. With every motion you allowed his tongue on your mouth, he syphoned away whatever self-respect you had left.

Will he leave you with anything?

It didn't take long before a sob began to form at the back of your throat. Perhaps he heard it, or felt it, for he let go with much reluctance. Instead, he settled with bringing your foreheads together while you composed yourself. It wouldn't do you much good if you suddenly lost your mind right in front of him, right?

"Have I told you how much I am in awe of your beauty, my love?" He whispered against your lips. "You prove to me time and again that your heart is just as beautiful, if not more so."

You offered no words while he stroked your cheek with his forefinger and he placed his lips over your ear.

"As such, I will prove to you just how much it belongs to me."

He will take everything from you, even after you have nothing left. *****************************

Thank you for reading!!!! Please engage and all that. it's really appreciated :)

Part 3 in the works and will contain smutSMUTSMUT---

#🥵 #dark!dream x reader #dark!morpheus x reader