mothonfire

[mothonfire]

A Beer in a Wine Glass

read in ao3 || this masterlist 

Adrian Chase // male!reader 

Warnings ; mentions of blood, descriptions of smut. 

Sipnosis ; Adrian gives you a blow job for pride month 

3.3k

Cold, shining, golden beer was all you could think about. God, you could almost taste it, from the bar down the road, second tap to the left, Heineken; or, if you were lucky, one stubby of Estrella Galicia, just because it felt closer to home. The day was almost over, the vampires were killed, the mission was done for the day and that beer had light of its own inside your mind.

“You have no idea how bad I wanna get wasted right now,” Chris let his bag on your desk with a loud thud and clapped his hands.

“Fuck, yeah” Vigilante took his mask off, a drop of blood down the side of his face. You sighed, going into the bathroom and hoped he didn´t need stitches. It was almost last call and you wanted your beer, stitches would take for ever.

Emilia came back to the main room in your new headquarters, a small house on the outskirts. “There is no way you are drinking tonight” Adrian frowned, standing up from the office chair he was sitting on.

“Why not?” You came back, first aid kit in hand.

Emilia left a gun on her table. “I am a hundred percent sure you have a concussion”

“No, I do not!” He looked offended and you nudged him, gesturing to the table behind him. He half sat.

“You hit your head, on a traffic sign. Then fell off a cliff and landed on a rock”

He frowned. “Well not with my head!” You cleaned the trail of blood and took the hair out of his forehead. You knew your breath was hitting his cheek. He liked it.  

“You were unconscious for twenty minutes!”

“I fell asleep!”

“Bullshit,”

“Oh no, Vig, dude” you covered your mouth and he looked up at you, wide eyed “I can see your brain spilling out your head!” You wanted to distract him, your head hurt a bit and his daily back and forth with Emilia was making you want he was unconscious again.

He stood up. “What?” it was kind of stupid how highpitched his scream was “Is it gonna fall off? Can it fall off? Oh, no, I like my brain inside my head dude! Quick, catch it” You started laughing a little and he stopped “Oh you were messing with me,” he sat back down with a small smile “that was funny”

“You are not drinking today,” he only needed butterfly stitches.

“Not you too!”

“I'm sorry,” you smiled “But you did hit your head pretty hard” You closed the cut “So no drinking”

He looked at you like if you had stabbed him. “That is so not fair,” he climbed off the table and stormed out the room. You closed the kit.

“There is no drinking for you either,” Harcourt said.

You snapped your head back. “What? Why?” You heard a muffed ‘Hah, loser’ from the other room and you frowned on it´s direction. Fucking hell.

“You are absurdly behind with your reports, I need at least the ones from last week for tomorrow” Emilia grabbed her things.

Man. “I'm not that behind, come on,” that cold beer was slowly drifting away from you.

Emilia gave you a look "Dude, come on, even Chris has written down more than you"

"Ah, suck it" he was smiling proudly, cleaning his helmet.

"Oh, piss off!" you got closer to Emilia and clasped your hands together "Please, please, I'll do them later" Devastating, absolutely devastating.

"No, you stay. It's an order"

You sighed, curling up your lip. Ow, man. "What a bummer" Vigilante mocked, holding himself by the door frame. The fucker was laughing a bit. He was also on black sweatpants and a tight shirt, some of the spare clothes he left in the HQ.

"You stay too," Emilia started walking away with everyone else "you need to start writing reports, we are paying you now"

"Hah, loser" you murmured and he frowned at you.

"It's not fun if you say it," and they all left the house.

 You had more than a week of late reports. Eleven missions, if you were being precise. And that was going to take you all night. God you wished you had done them earlier, now you could be drinking. And you weren't drinking. You hated not drinking. You loved drinking. So much, man.

"This is so boring I think I'm going to die," in the span of an hour, Adrian had sat on the couch, thrown knives at the wall, eaten chocolate, hidden under a table, lost his phone, found it and stabbed a pencil in an apple.

"You could write reports," you looked back at him "that's just an idea"

"I don't wanna do that!" and he was back on the couch, like a vicious cycle. “It's boring, I need action” You went back to the writing. Just seven more to go. The silence didn't last long. “My legs feel like they are going to explode”

“You have been here for an hour,” your eyes were locked on the screen.

“And twenty-three minutes!”

Your head fell to your hands and you groaned, fingers pressed to your eyes, then intertwined on top of your mouth. “If you don't wanna be here, leave. I need to finish”  

“I don't wanna leave,” he kind of murmured that one, sitting up on the couch. You made a face, frowning with your lip curled up and your eyes small. “I shouldn't leave you alone, it's late”

You kept the face “Okay, that is just bullshit”

“No-uh” he stood up, a defiant finger pointed at you. Kind of energetic and definitely out of place, absolutely comically stupid.

“Yuh-uh,” you stood up too, finger to his face. “I´m a fucking soldier” kind of.

He stared for a second. “I think you are a, uh, a small weak man and that—that you need me to protect you,” your mouth flew open. He was so obviously lying but it was funny to see him try.

“I could totally fuck you up,” you couldn’t help the smile.

“Oh, oh, umh there is no way in that, I´d win you with a hand to my back,” he raised his eyebrows at you “you have some uh, skinny wiggled arms, and some like, not at all strong hands and you are not—you don't,” he pointed a finger to you “you don't train as much as I do” He looked pretty satisfied with that.

“Mh, is that so?” The truth is that it wasn't true at all, you weren't as jacked as Peacemaker was but you handled yourself and you thought of yourself as a pretty good fighter. You knew Adrian though this too. “You think you can beat me in a fight, Chase?” That’s were he wanted to end. He was bored, when he was bored he needed to move and, for some reason he didn´t want to leave so he was provoking you. You found it pretty funny, how blandly obvious it was.

“I know it” and you punched him on the face.

It wasn't really that hard, not even half as hard as you normally would punch someone. You aimed for the jaw, so his glasses wouldn't take any damage. He stumbled back, got a hand to his jaw, looked at you half crouched and launched himself at you. He did not hit you as hard as he could have.

After a bit he grabbed your arm and tried to make you lose your balance, knock you down, but you kicked him and punched him again. He wasn't focused. You were good, really good, trained and skilled but Adrian would have been able to kill you with a good sharpened pencil only. But he didn't. In fact, he was losing.

It went on for a long while. Kicks and punches thrown there and then. He punched you once, on the nose, and you kicked him. In the motion he got a foot under you, making you fall back, to the couch. You sat there, confused for a second, looking up at him, chest heaving. You tried to stand up. He grabbed your wrists and you struggled, groaning. He leaned in, his weight helping him. He put one leg on either side of yours, knee next to the thigh. Your legs were spread open so it was hard for him to balance himself.

“Get off me,” your voice came out low, you tried to move your body one last time but he sank you further into the couch, both your hands trapped over your head now.

“I win,” and he was smiling. You were holding back, and now he was smiling down at you, sweat damping his hair, out of breath. Smiling.

You stared at him breathing out of your mouth. You really couldn't move. His whole weight on you. Well not all of it, he still had his knees on the couch. You kind of wished it was all of it. You just stared.

He had beautiful eyes, greenish blue. He had a small mole on his cheek and little freckles around it and his nose. You wondered where else he had them.

You swallowed hard, not struggling anymore though his grip did not loosen. He felt like he was closer now. In fact he was. Slowly, not smiling anymore, he was lowering his head. He blew a warm breath to your open mouth and you sighed, setting your hands free, grabbing his face, slamming him into you. He hummed with his throat, tilting his head. You opened your mouth again and deepened the kiss, he leaned in, body and soul. His belly pressed against the end of your chest. You let go of his face, slipped your hands down at his waist, slow at first, his skin felt too smooth to hurt it. He bit your bottom lip and stared into your eyes through his lashes, slowly pulling away, glasses at the end of his nose. You held his waist tightly, squeezing it a bit. He let a breath out, it was warm and made a small whining sound. You kissed him again, fingers digging to his flesh this time. He pressed himself closer, small sounds escaping every time air came between your lips. He held your face and pressed you further down, your fingertips rubbing the small of his back.

You weren't sure how long it took him to let go of your face and start fumbling with the buttons of your shirt, struggling with his mouth still over yours. After a bit he looked down, big wet sigh escaping his lips. He got the first button; the corner of his mouth twitched up and you felt it in the depths of your stomach. He got the second button.

You leaned up a bit. "Wait, there's blood on your face" it was over his mouth and on the tip of his nose, you reached up but his hand got there first. He didn't lose the smile, cleaning the blood with the back of his thumb.

He stopped to look at it and then at you, this other hand still half into your shirt. "I think it's yours," his voice was so low and his eyes so deep it took you a while to process what he had said. You blinked a few times.

"Oh, fuck, sorry," you tried to move, pressing your wrist to your nose. He cleaned himself a bit and went back to your shirt, tilting his head down to kiss your neck.

"Don't apologize," his voice came warm from under your ear, he was being quiet. You could feel his smile, "I was the one who punched you" He bit your skin and your head fell back onto the couch.

He unfastened the last button and half a second after his hands were inside the shirt. He couldn't stop, he had to touch you everywhere all at once, he pressed your ribs and chest as he sucked small dots bruising all over your throat. You pulled him up to kiss him again and he stood on his knees, drifting away slowly, smiling.

“It's odd to look up at you,” you whispered.

“What? Why?” you just wanted to see that confused frown again.

“Cause I'm always looking down,” you played with the fabric of his shirt “I'm taller”

He gaped his mouth, taking a big breath in. “That is not true!” You kissed him and he hummed again, now it felt more like a hug, with him tilting his head and you holding him on top of you. “I love your neck…” he breathed with a hand around it and his mouth on your jaw. He was careful now, going down, kissing your chest, dropping to the ground, grabbing your belt.

“Adrian—” he was in between your legs, eyes with light of their own.

“What? Do I stop?” his eyebrows shot up “I need your consent and stuff,”

He was adorable. “No, it's fine just,” you looked around “everyone uses this couch, it feels kind of wrong”

Adrian nodded, as if he was following you though it was obvious he wasn't. “There's the upstairs rooms,”

“We all use those,” you take turns to sleep in long shifts.

He was disappointed now, let down, that thing he had was consuming itself inside him and you couldn't let it disappear. It had woken something in you, and you felt the sense grow back in you, the voice that whispered that you couldn't do it, that it was Adrian, that he was your teammate and just that. You wanted to do it, wanted to let him in, wanted him like that just for a bit more. “Don't you have a car?” And it was back in his eyes, with the smile and the tight grip. He got up and left. You looked for paper in the bathroom and let the water run for a second, staring at your bloody face in front of you. “Come on, let's go,” he was behind you. You looked at him through the mirror. “Don't wash, it's kinda hot,”

Adrian took your arm and dragged you out. He stopped and pressed something that beeped. The air was cold outside, night long fallen, streetlights reflecting on his glasses. You couldn't stop staring at him, at his profile, his smile, his nose and his jaw. He pulled your arm and you followed him down the road. It was a new neighbourhood, on the outskirts, half the houses still unbuilt, no neighbours. Perfect for a HQ. And for you.

He opened the door for you and you climbed to the passenger’s seat, back against the other door, head on the window. It was still kind of cold. He closed the door behind him and threw himself at you, kissing you, making you hit the back of your head. He pulled back. “Dude, I need to suck you off, right now, or I think I´ll die” you laughed, just a bit, then you undid your belt. His smile was priceless, he looked down at your hand on your crotch as if they were made of gold. “Let me, let me” He undid the button and looked up at you, asking for permission, more excited than you had ever seen him. And that was saying a lot.

You leaned down to kiss him and then nodded, murmuring a small “go for it,” he kissed your tummy and pulled the zipper down slowly. Your legs started to feel numb, him in between your thighs. He got his head up for a second and got you off your pants, smiling at the sight.

"Hey, big boy," he whispered and you wanted to laugh again. He ran a hand down your thigh, pulling your leg up, resting it on his shoulder. His hand gripped you and you locked eyes with the ceiling, sighing.

Adrian started stroking, slower than you thought he would, holding himself back, pushing down the hunger. He ran his tongue down your tip, your hands falling to his hair as soon as his lips met you. His hair was clean and soft. You groaned when you felt him pull you deeper.

His hands rubbed the back of your legs, spreading your legs apart. The air was starting to suffocate you. He was all warm. You wrapped your legs around him, drowning out the noises coming off your throat. He gripped your waist, fingers digging into your skin, and pulled you further down. Your head hit the car door and your back was pressed against the seat. Adrian maneuverer you without losing his peace, deepening, pressing up with his tongue. You pushed his head down a little bit, to see how far he could go. He made a pleasant sound and your legs tightened around him. He got it out, breathing for a second, stroking you slowly, kissing down. You couldn't see his face, buried in between your legs. He was licking under your dick now, kissing, breathing heavily. You hand was still lost in his hair.

He looked at you, for a brief second, then you were deep down his throat. “Fuck—” Your legs shoved him down, around his neck, you tried to loosen the grip, afraid of making him believe he was trapped. He let his hands still, focusing on his mouth, unsteady peace. His lips closed at your tip before shoving down again. He started going faster, messier, playing with the tempo. You started to feel him all around you, not only his lips and the back of his throat, not only the warmth of his breath on your belly. He was in your veins, you felt him in your stomach. Sounds were coming off you, up from forgotten places. You gripped his hair, he was fast but just enough and you almost couldn't breathe, the tension down your stomach expanding through your veins.

“Adrian,” it came out weak “Adrian, I´m— Fuck, I´m gonna…” He made a sound with his throat and you arched your back, releasing it all, wanting him close, pulling his hair. “F—uck…” You let your back fall, everything relaxed and you breathed deeply. He pulled back and you let go of his hair. He kept his hands on your legs. You were sweaty, felt warm all over, your eyes on the car ceiling, your head resting up, your breaths going in and out at weird tempos.

His hands rubbed your legs, going up to your waist, playing with the button up around your sides. “How was it?” His throat was sore but he sounded happy.

“Fucking hell…” you breathed out, unable to move. He kissed your knee, folded up, then your thigh. You looked down at him. He was on one knee in between your legs, the other with his foot touching the ground, leg under your leg. His hair was messed up and his cheeks dyed a pinkish shade. He was smiling, sweat damping his hair. “Did you swallow it?”

He was looking at you in an odd way, you had never seen that look directed towards you. “Yeah,” he was admiring you. He breathed out. “You are really beautiful”

You breathed out a laugh, sitting up. “Shut up,” you smiled a little when you pressed your lips back together. He hummed a bit, holding your face, kissing slowly. You pushed him back, lips still connected. His back rested half on the door on his side, half on his seat. Your mouth fell to his neck. “You are too dressed,” you whispered against his skin.

He took his shirt off without a single word. His skin was soft, you traced it as you kissed under his jaw. His heartbeat sped up, he sighed. He was sweet. His hands were on your hair. You kissed him as you pulled his pants down.

[mothonfire]

i have a silly little surprise look

[mothonfire]

Voice Cracks || Prt2

read on ao3 || this masterlist

Adrian Chase // gn!reader

Warnings ; Mentions of blood and injuries 

Sipnosis ; man idk, part two (tbh I´m a bit disapointed, i thought itll be better)

5.9k 

Part one || Part two

The skyline falls

The room was dark, windowless, your face lit up by the white computer screen. You were in a small office building, about forty-five minutes away from your apartment; a temporary job they said. You were filling up some reports, blasting music and trying not to fall asleep. It wasn't late at all, you still had a few hours left there but you had been working nonstop for almost a week, something messy happened in one of the secret labs your team was monitoring and you had been left to clean up the mess, again. You turned around, throwing your headphones back. The door to the office had been open, letting light into the room. You flinched, covering your eyes as you groaned, music barely audible now. 

“You in Evergreen, right?” The woman eating a sandwich as she leaned into your doorframe was your teammate, who was supposed to be at a meeting on some other floor. 

“What?” You said, trying to make out her face without hurting your eyes too much.

“Evergreen,” she bit her food “you live there, don't you?”

You nodded, rubbing your face “Temporally, yeah, I´m staying there” 

“Perfect,” She came into the room and threw a yellow binder at your desk, smiling “you are getting reassigned, field work” 

“Sorry?” You blinked up at her. 

“Remember that black ops you were cleaning up a while ago?” You nodded, taking the binder “Well, some agents are going to start operating from there and they need a tech guy” 

“I'm the tech guy?” You closed the binder. 

“Yeah,” she finished the food, “basically same thing you do here but in a common office” You curled your lips up at her, sinking into your seat. “Oh come on, it's not that bad, maybe you make some friends” She smiled, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She was nice, lovely even, but that didn't make it any better. 

“Sure, when…?” 

“Today, pack your things sweetnuck.” She started walking away. 

You stood up “Who's in charge?” 

The woman caught herself again, holding on to your office's door frame. She raised her brows “Emilia Harcourt” 

“Really?” She nodded and you took your bag, turning the computer off “Didn't she get shot like three times? I thought she was in physical therapy.” 

“Twice, and yeah, she was.” She shrugged “I guess she's not anymore, I don't know.”

There was a big truck at the back of the new headquarters when you arrived. Two men you recognized from the office were unloading the white truck, big boxes being carried inside. You shut your car's door and waved at them as you walked into the building, a small library that had been shut down a few months ago, probably for this purpose. A blonde woman was checking some papers, leaning into a wooden table. 

“Harcourt?” You asked tilting your head, not daring to step further into the room. She looked up at you for a second.

“Yeah,” she got some papers and walked to one of the grey cabinets in the room “you are the new techie, right?” You nodded when she looked at you, she sighed “Great, your table is that one over there, next to mine. Just leave your things and go home for a few hours. We are having a group meeting tonight, I'll explain what the job is about.”  

You stepped into the room, putting your bag on the table she had pointed at before. “Tonight? I can't tonight.” 

“Yes, you can. I'm sure whatever you were gonna do can wait.” You frowned, taking some stuff off your bag. Emilia looked at you, phone in hand and for a second you could see the smallest glimpse of pity in her eyes “Look, you have to be available at all times, that's just how this line of work goes” 

“I know, I know.” You sighed and she started calling someone. 

“Chris, tonight, I sent you the location. Yeah, yes, bring him too. Yes, I know but I want him in the team, he’s skilled and right now it's what we need the most.” She looked at you before leaving the room. “Nine pm, don't be late.”

You gave her a small smile “Okay.” 

She kept the phone conversation on her way out and you sat on your desk, getting your own phone out. You opened the only chat you actually enjoyed opening. 

 “I can't make it today, work stuff :(

Srry Adri” 

He replied almost instantly. “No prob, tmr?” 

You weren't sure if you could, field work was unpredictable, dangerous even for the person that sat on the chair and monitored the actual team. “Yeah tmr :)” 

 You ended up staying, helping install everything into the new headquarters. As much as you wanted to go home and smoke you needed to be sober for this one.  Adrian had taken over your mind once again. It had almost been a week since that night and not only your body ached for him but your brain. You had started to miss him terribly, with all of you. It was an annoying kind of feeling and you tried to rub it away, tried to focus on work but his voice kept lingering in your head and you bit your lip remembering the taste of him.

Emilia showed up at nine, just as she said. You sat on your table, drinking some soda and waiting for the rest of the team. A girl came in, rushing, introduced herself as Leota Adebayo with a cheery smile and sat next to you on a chair.

You looked outside to the street, thinking that maybe it would be smart to put some more paper on that window because people passing by the library could perfectly see your desk.

“Where the fuck are them?” Emilia had her head down, scratching her forehead.

Leota looked up at you and glanced at the window you were staring at, frowning “They're outside”

“Yeah,” you said, tilting your head “why is the guy in blue pointing at me?” You recognized Peacemaker, he had been in a bunch of late night reports you did. He looked mad at the other guy, like if he was saying something stupid he couldn’t really understand. It was hard to really know the guy’s intentions, he pointed at you and seemed to be talking though you weren’t sure, you couldn’t see his mouth. You could see he was looking right at you though, felt his eyes on you. You raised your hand slowly and waved. He dropped his arm.

Emilia sighed “Forget him, he's a weirdo.” The both of them crossed the library´s door right after that. “Finally,”

“Yeah, sorry.” Peacemaker stepped into the room, feet heave on the wood. He frowned at you “You new right?”

You nodded slightly, giving him your name “Tech and communications.” You offered him your hand, he took it, shaking it just once with a hint of a smile.

“I´m Chris, that’s Vigilante, who will not be speaking today,” he looked to the other people in the room, “and who doesn’t want to be called by his real name.”

Leota huffed a laugh, raising her brows “And why is that?”

“I don’t know, weird Vigilante shit, you already know how this goes”

The guy in blue, Vigilante, took a pen and a small notepad, writing “I don’t trust new people” and showing it to all of you. When he looked at you he took the pen again and wrote something else “No offence” he showed it to you.

You smiled, “I don’t mind.”

“Okay, we haven’t got all night, let's start.” Emilia clapped her hands once and the sound echoed through the room. 

 You had to cancel Adrian the next day, then he said he couldn't see you the day after, and then the two days after that. You honestly were glad it was him who cancelled plans, you were starting to feel bad about letting him down. He stopped texting you as often as he did, which wasn't actually often at all. He only texted at night, dumb stuff like "do you think my legs know they are legs or do they think they are beings of its own?", you found it sweet and you tried to come up with the weirdest replies you could think of because it was fun to see him freak out and believe every word you texted. Your past few days had been what seemed like an eternal loop of waking up, going down to the office, eating lunch, telling Adrian you couldn't make it that night either, hang out with Vigilante until Emilia told everyone to go home and smoke yourself to sleep. Then repeat.

You got a text from Adrian right after Harcourt told you that you had to monitor the team from inside a minibus today. Adrian said "he was so so so so sorry but he had to work that night too" You sighed and started packing up the bus before leaving, making sure everything was in order. Vigilante was helping you.

He was good company, actually. He was funny and charming, really helpful, but you wished he would talk to you so you could get Adrian's voice out of your head for at least a minute. It was almost poetic, how the person you spent most of your time with couldn't give you what you yearned the most, noise. You were alone, had been for long, Adrian helped but his absence hurt more than the joy his company brought and Vigilante was with you at all times but he never spoke, did not utter a single word so the silence was almost burning you, acid pouring down your lungs that you so desperately tried to drown with music.

"Will you ever speak to me?" You put your headphones on your neck, looking at Vigilante from inside the bus. He looked up at you with his whole body, still for a second before shrugging and leaning down for a box "Like, I get it but, at some point I'm gonna have to hear you through the coms" It was so hard to read him, without his face and his voice he could be disgusted, mad, he could be mouthing curses on your name and you wouldn't know. He picked up his notepad.

"For ur own good"

You smiled "Fuck off," you got under one of the tables you had gotten into the bus, checking some wires. You couldn't see him. "Vig, to be honest, I'm here because I kind of have nothing to lose, that's like the whole point of ARGUS, to pick up lonely people and throw them on a ditch to die. I could be working for Amazon, if I had, I dunno, a wife and some kids with a pretty house and a golden retriever playing in the backyard." you unplugged one of the ports and plugged it somewhere else, then peaked your head off to look at him, still unreadable. "Come on, you don't need to tell me your entire life story, I just want to talk" Vigilante pointed at the notepad "That's actually the worst, you have so many spelling mistakes" He pulled his head away.

"fuck you!" he wrote.

You smiled, turning on all the computers.

"Are we ready to go?" Emilia knocked on the side of the bus.

"Yeah, all set."

 Emilia and Chris were inside the office building, looking. Vigilante and Leota were on a different floor. Chris spoke to Emilia and she replied in a lower tone. Leota talked to Vigilante but, of course, it wasn't an actual conversation since he never replied. It was quiet besides their low conversations through the coms, the building was abandoned and it was almost midnight so, not much going on. They were looking for an SD card that was supposed to be inside, fairly easy but, Emilia thought the place might be secured. It didn't look like, they had been looking for almost half an hour, speaking and not being especially careful.

Then you saw something move. Something that wasn't one of them.

"Vigilante, there is something moving towards you" you said into the mike. "It's pretty big, around the corner."

"I hear it" Leota's dot on your screen moved towards Vigilante's, "fuck it sounds disgusting" she whispered stopping next to him.

"What is it?" Harcourt was looking through a box, you could hear her digging.

Leota sighed and you could picture her squinting her eyes in your mind, "I don't know…"

You straightened your back, leaning into one of the screens, then looking at the one behind you, then in front of you again "Uh… guys there is something behind you, but I can't see it on the window cam, Vig go check it out" the line was dead silent "Vig?"

"He's going" You heard Leota.

You pressed your palms against your eyes, resting your head. "God this is impossible."

"Yeah, you tell me…" The dot around the corner moved slowly, too much, it was in and out of the screen as the motion detectors could not recognize it fully.  “Uh, what the hell is that thing? it smells worse than it sounds.”

You frowned “Smells?”

“Yeah, like a fucking… Like an expired box of milk with shit all over it, is fucking–” Leota got cut by the sound of wood breaking, really loud, coming from Vigilante´s line, his voice waves turning red on your computer as the breaking continued. To your right you could see on the monitor at least ten new dots appearing out of nowhere around Vigilante. The crashing stopped “What the fuck was that?” Leota screamed and the dot around the corner started moving faster.

“Adebayo on your right!” You heard gunshots and her´s and Vigilante´s voice waves went red.

Leota coughed right when the thing stopped moving and disappeared on your screen “Oh my God…” she sounded disgusted.

“The fuck was that?” Emilia started moving on the other screen.

“I don’t fucking know man!” Leota coughed again “Jesus what the fuck is this…”

Vigilante´s dot moved around the room, chased by the other things. He had taken some of them down but more seemed to appear out of nowhere. He had stopped shooting and you could hear the things scream in high pitched squeaks as he slayed them “Adebayo go help Vigilante, the big room down the hallway.” You tried to keep it calm, seeing how Vigilante´s dot slowed and a bunch of the things cornered him. There were so many. “Jesus fuck, all of you, go to the third floor, they need backup.”

“We need to find the card, they will be fine.” Emilia sounded so determined and cold minded it made you sick.

“Fuck!” Leota yelled “Fuck what the fuck,” she shot a bunch of times “Oh shit! What the fuck are these!”

Emilia moved up to another floor, followed by Chris “Hold whatever they are down there, we only have one floor left.”

“Dude there are so many!” All you could hear was Leota's panicked voice and the gunshots as she moved around the room. “Vigilante behind you!” There was a loud crash, a gunshot and a new crash, different, more like glass breaking. Then Vigilante was out of your screen.

Your brows twitched, staring at where his dot used to be “What the fuck happened?”

“They fell out the fucking window!” Adebayo yelled and shot two times, running off.

“What?” Emilia stopped. She sounded something close to concerned, nothing close to the annoyed tone you expected her to have.

You span on your chair, checking the street cams behind you. He was nowhere to be seen. “Vigilante and like three of those nasty-goo-looking things, they– Pushed him off and fell with him.”

“Is he okay?” Emilia and Chris moved around the last floor. She had that worried tone again and you spun back around.

You scratched your neck maybe a bit too hard “Vigilante, are you okay buddy?” the line was almost silent, Leota was using a knife now. “Fucking, speak you idiot” just silence. “Vigilante drop it!” you looked through every camera you could get into, every radar you could find, he had disappeared “I can't find him!”

You heard Emilia sigh, back to her coldness but, she swallowed before speaking “Leota can you look out the window he fell through?”

“No fucking way! I can't get back in there!” She wasn't exactly winning.

He had fallen off a third floor with three of those things. He was alone, hurt, with no guns, and he was stupid enough to keep going with the no talking rule. If he was even conscious. “Fuck,” you groaned against your hands, pressing them to your face. “Vigilante if you can hear me just tell me where the fuck you are, you insufferable little dick!” Nothing, absolutely nothing.

“Guys I don't think I can hold them off for too long” Adebayo sounded desperate.

“Peacemaker, get down and help her, I´ll find the fucking card”

You took your hands off your face “No, what the fuck Harcourt, what about Vig?”

“He'll be fine, we need this card”

Peacemaker started moving and soon enough he was fighting beside Leota “He needs you, come on” now you were the one to sound desperate.

“The card is more important” She was making you feel sick, all of them were. Vigilante´s so-called best friends.

You stared ahead letting the air out your lungs in something that was all but a laugh and you shook your head. “I'll get him myself.”

“No, we need you for visuals to get out.” You got up and opened a cabinet, taking one gun. Harcourt yelled your name “Stay, it's an order!”

You jumped off and started running “Ya´ll are shit friends”

You were parked in front of the office building so as soon as you got out and looked up you could see the window Vig had fallen off from. You ran, calling for his name. All you could see was a car with its roof squeezed down in the middle. Then you heard a scream. Something close to death.

You turned towards the sound and sprinted through the parking lot, looking everywhere, running through a maze of cars. A new scream, this time closer. You turned and shot.

The thing dropped dead on top of Vigilante and he groaned, something flipped inside you and you pushed whatever it was away, running to help your friend. “You okay?” He raised a thumbs up from under the thing and the closer you got the worse it smelled.

It looked like a human-like-goo, like a melted person with no legs and too many arms, hair poking in places it shouldn’t be, no head no nothing just a mix of terrible smelling gigantic smear bleeding all over. You pushed it off Vigilante and he stayed on the ground, unmoving. “Vig?” you stopped staring at the thing and crouched next to him “How are you, buddy?” You helped him rest his back on a car next to him and he raised both his thumbs before flinching and grabbing his side. You got on your knees in front of him, one leg on each side of his left thigh as you rested on your heels. “Fuck, did it bite you?” You looked back to the thing. “How the fuck did that bite you?” You felt his eyes on you as you put a hand to his side, felt his breathing hiss when you pressed your hand on his waist, his eyes not leaving you. He reached out, put a hand on your thigh and rested his head on your shoulder, breathing, finally resting. It was odd, how familiar that was. And he was touching you as if he had already done it a thousand times. You let him rest, wanted him to, for as long as he could. He must be so hurt, bleeding, maybe with some broken bones, probably hurt by the fact that it was you, someone who he had met that week, the only one that came to his rescue. You could still hear Chris and the others talk as they fought and they could probably hear you through Vigilante´s mike. He could hear how they hadn't asked if he was okay. “That's it bud, come on, let's get you out of here.” He looked at you again and then shook his head slowly, doing a gesture with his hands like saying it's okay, not even that big of a deal. You smiled down at him and stood up, offering him your hand. He took it and stood with a hand to his side.

It was so fucking dark you weren’t surprised you couldn’t find him in the cameras. The night was cold and not a single star could be spotted. You were almost at the van when Vigilante yanked at you, taking your wrist and pulling you behind him just in time for one of the things to jump to his head. “Fuck!” It was bigger than the other, with small hands all over it and a big circular mouth like one from a caterpillar. You pointed your gun at it but Vigilante was moving too much, punching the thing attached to his head. You saw it pull away, opening its mouth. It was going to launch at his face. It was going to rip his head off him in one bite. It was going to kill Vigilante.

You drowned a scream and threw yourself at it, making Vigilante trip and fall to his side. You groaned, punching the thing as hard as you could, grabbing it and pulling. Vigilante punched it too, he rolled more to his side and in the quickest movement he got his last knife out and stabbed the thing. It screamed like a person but there was no humanity in it, just wetness and pure pain. You grabbed it and threw it, stumbling to your feet and picking up your gun, shooting the fucking thing five times. You stood there for a second, weapon raised and chest heaving, staring at it until you heard Vigilante shifting on the pavement behind, sitting up. “You alright?” He nodded and you smiled. He was smiling too though that you couldn’t tell. “That was fucking close holy shit,” you sighed looking up “disgusting…”

Vigilante was sitting with his elbows holding his open legs by his knees, breathing fast and heavy. It was starting to worry you, his breathing. You turned to him, ready to get him to the van and take a good look at him, evaluate his state, when he snapped his head up, looking at something behind you.

 “Fuck! Shit, shit!”

You froze. Got out of breath. Looked around.

It couldn’t be.

Adrian couldn’t be around, that was impossible.

How did you, why? Where was he?

You heard him you were so fucking sure. You could recognize his voice anywhere. Even with one single word, a laugh, a groan.

Oh…

Your eyes landed on Vigilante, who was reaching for you, getting up as fast as he could and stretching a hand up to you to catch you. Fast, so, so fast. Though it wasn't fast at all. Not for you.

You heard him again and again and you thought about that feeling barely five minutes ago when he groaned. That thing that made you freeze just like now. That, that you pushed away. “Get on the ground!” He said so fast.

You couldn’t move. Not the first time you had heard his voice and not now. He was there, in front of you and you wanted to reach your hand to him but he was so far away and you weren’t fast enough. You wanted to say something but you just stared, out of breath, no air or blood in you, just him.

Adrian.

In front of you.

Adrian, Adrian, Adrian.

That sweet voice in your head.

It made sense now. Then, of course, after the loudest sound and the biggest yet shortest pain you had ever felt, it all went to black.

 The ringing just got worse and worse, your head throbbing. You tried to move, groaning as you felt the pavement under you, trying to catch your breath. You opened your eyes, probably. It was so dark, the streetlights blinding you. You let out another painful sound, this one was weaker. You turned your head, everything looked like it was slowly rotating, your head felt so full you thought it would blow up. Your eyes focused on one thing. He was beside you, unmoving, if you tried you could reach for him and touch him. You couldn’t move, it was unbearable, every inch of your body was burning. “Vig…” It came out as a breath and then you closed your eyes. The pain didn’t stop.

Next thing something was touching you, something like a hand but it was rough. Felt like it was scratching your skin though it was tender, a careful but painful touch. You wanted to cry but you couldn’t even move. You waited for the darkness to take you again, for it to take all the pain away. You heard a choked-up sound. One you never heard before but knew well who it was from. Why was he here?

 “Dude, you need to get checked out,” that was the next thing you heard. Your head was burning from the inside and your limbs felt dead, heavy and bloodless. The pain wasn’t as strong anymore, you were on something comfortable and there was a good scent in the air.

“I need to stay here.” Now you could feel your chest again. Breathe.

Adrian.

“You are still bleeding!” Bleeding? Why was Adrian bleeding? Where were you? Was he okay? “Just get that off and let me—” You tried to move.

“No, get off me!” Who was doing that? Was he hurting? Someone was hurting him. You tried so hard to open your eyes but they weighed too much. “Don't touch me.” You could only think of getting up and protecting him. He sounded just so wrong.

You let out a sound and they both shut up. A hand touched you, softer this time, skin to skin. You tried to move again, itching to see if Adrian was okay. Needing his voice again. You reached out for the hand, grabbing it´s fingers the best way you could. The silence was killing you. Was Adrian really there or were you just hallucinating his voice? You could hear a heavy breathing, it sounded painful. 

"What happened?" your voice was hoarse, felt so sore and low. It was painful to speak but you still couldn't open your eyes. 

There was silence, the hand moved but you tighten your grip. "You got blown up." Someone said. Chris. "Both you and Vig, though I think you absorbed most of it." 

It all came back in waves. You were going out to save him, shooting those things. "Where is he? Is he okay?" 

Chris coughed "Yeah, he's right here" 

You fought your eyes open and he was the first thing you saw. Mask still on, sitting next to you, with a glob less hand on your arm. You were in one of the library rooms, it was night still and they had laid you on a big couch. Adrian wasn't there. 

"You okay?" Vigilante nodded, moving a bit on the chair he was sitting on. You smiled at him "good, good…" you looked at Chris "What happened?" 

He frowned "What do you mean? I just told you" 

"Mh, I forgot." 

"You both got blown up," 

You raised your eyebrows "Oh, that seems about right" you spoke slowly, your voice not feeling quite yours. 

"We were looking for the SD card, remember?" Chris sounded soft, you had no idea he could sound soothing like that. It wasn't too much but it was just enough to not make your headache worse. 

You nodded "Yeah, yeah, 'd you find it?" 

"Yeah…" he sighed, looking at Vigilante "Yeah we did" You closed your eyes. 

"I'm glad" There was silence again, the slight ringing in your ears being the only thing you could hear, you were tired. You felt alone again. "Chris?" Something moved and you opened your eyes. 

Vigilante had his head on your leg, resting but not all the way asleep, your whisper could not have been enough to wake him up. He raised slowly and looked down at you. "Don't you wanna go take that off?" He shook his head. You hummed and looked around. It was still dark outside, the room had less artificial light, only one dim lamp with an orange bulb and a light on a room down the hallway. Vigilante was looking at you with his head tilted. "Go on, lay back down, I don't mind" You tried to smile at him and he slowly lowered his head. 

The hand he had on top of you moved, down to your stomach, creeping his fingers into your shirt and rubbing slowly. You put a hand over his, the right one this time, and let the other rest down on top of his head. 

Then it would have been the time for tears, though they never came. Your body wasn't in pain anymore, not how it had been, and Vigilante's hand was soothing, felt like he was under your skin. Everything felt distant. You craved noise. 

"You know," you started, looking out the window into nothing, your voice low and foggy, just quiet enough to distract you from the ringing and still keep the peace "I had the weirdest dream" Vigilante moved to look up at you, his head not leaving your leg "I can't remember what it was about, it was like, dark? But I remember hearing a voice. One from someone who I really care for" you breathed a laugh, you never expected those words coming out of you "And I thought he was here, though that's just stupid" Vigilante moved a bit again, you felt him. “I just wish he was,” maybe you could get your phone, call him and tell him that something had blown up on your face and to please, please, please take his car in the middle of a weeknight and come over to the secret headquarters you were working in just so you could have someone to talk with because your only friend just didn't speak. Utterly ridiculous. 

“I´m really sorry,” you said and Vig tilted his head up again “I should have moved when you told me, we wouldn't be like this.” He shook his head. “I just… I don't know what happened, I swear I have good reflexes I don´t know what the fuck—happened?” You swallowed “I froze up, I dunno why I just… We killed that thing and I thought it was over and then,” you frowned, shutting your mouth “you…” You looked at Vigilante, he was pulling away, sitting straight, “you told me…” you breathed out, unable to move your gaze away, your brows twitched upwards at the memory “Adrian?” and it made sense.

He remained silent, motionless, all his touch gone. You sat up, letting out a small painful sound and he reached before pulling away again. You looked at him, lips pressed together as your hands made its way to his head, gripping at the mask. He looked down, you could see his eyes through the visor. He put his hands on your wrists, barely squeezing, to stop you. “Please,” you heard him swallow and he shook his head once. “Please, Vig,” You weren't crying, you wished you were but your voice didn't tremble, you just whispered, trying to get as close as you could without whimpering in pain. Vigilante let go of your wrists, brushing his thumbs against your arms. You slowly pulled the mask off, his hair getting all messed. He looked down, to his hands on his lap and the silence took over the room, filling and all blue. You gave him his mask and he gripped at it, clenching his jaw with the deepest frown as he stared down at it. 

"Oh…" You hated seeing him like this, bruised and bloody, lip curled up. You took his face in your hands and he let out a choked-up noise, deepening his head further in between his shoulders. 

"I'm sorry," his sound was all wet, in a hushed cry. He couldn't look at you, sinking himself as you brushed your thumbs under his eyes, leaning close. 

You lowered your head, trying to catch his glance "No, no don't apologise," he burned under your skin, melting "Adrian, love," he finally looked up, he was frightened, teary, mouth gaped open, then closed, lips melting into each other as he lost the visual contact again, only his eyes moving. You took a good look at his face. It looked so different from what you remembered, lines in his forehead instead of his cheeks, bruises on his jaw, cuts on his head, blood dripping down slowly, eyes black and tired. 

"It was really dumb I…" You wanted to tell him it really wasn't, that you understood, but you feared that if you interrupted him he'll never utter another word again "At first I thought it would be awkward for you, but then I was scared—" he swallowed "And I wanted to tell you, I just, didn't know how and, and I was scared you would hate me because I," he looked up and you saw him fighting to keep the eye contact "I like, really like you and," he lost his battle, biting his lip before letting it go "and I know it probably meant nothing to you but I…" back up again, "yeah," he sighed "I'm really sorry" he lost his track, you understood him. 

You pulled his face a bit closer, "Adrian it meant the World to me," he tightened, doe eyed "your… voice, it hasn't left my mind ever since I first heard it," now it was you who had to look away, hesitating with your words, with too much to say "you haven't left my mind," your fingers stroked him gently "you are ethereal hope, like… golden soothing rays, you have a grip on me." 

He leaned in, mouth first, landing less than an inch away from yours, doubtful breath warmed your lips, his hands made their way to your jaw and then he melted into your fire, as if he was made of wax. 

He was so sweet, tasted just as he had the first time, felt a thousand times deeper. He was careful, breathing in between short wet kisses, he put his entire body in them, sighing every time he opened his mouth to softly kiss you again. Your hands lay at the back of his head and he drank you all. 

You buried yourself in him at some point, holding onto the armour still around him. He held you carefully, kissing the thin cloth over your shoulder. 

"You saved me," he said as if he had just realised it. 

"You saved me" you felt him smile. 

He fell silent for a second "Ethereal hope?" You smiled. His voice was thin. 

"Yeah," 

"That's beautiful," you hummed, pulling even closer "golden soothing rays?" you nodded "I'm going to get that tattooed," he kissed the back of your shoulder and you breathed a laugh through your nose "you should be a writer"

"I wanted to," your voice was starting to give in "when I was younger"

He tilted his head to your neck, air warming you up as he spoke "Why didn't you?" You pulled away to look at him. 

"Didn't have the right inspiration" 

[mothonfire]

if hes not the perfect little fictional man then why is he in my thoughts all day

[mothonfire]

Pink Petals in Blood Vessels

read on ao3 || this masterlist

Adrian Chase // gn!reader 

Warnings ; mentions of injuries, descriptions of smut (explicit blowjobs and handjobs). 

Sipnosis ;  According to Adrian, kissing is cheating the body to allow your mind to dive into a sea of clear pinkish honey full of foam and flowers.

4.6k 

The first time they saw you, you were picking him up from work. It was late at night, last shift of the week, you invited him over and he gladly accepted.

You two had been seeing each other for a few months now, hanging out at his place or yours, watching movies, going for coffee or dinner, walking or partying together, occasionally. He was sweet and spoke a lot, really strong and somehow cute at the same time. He was quite lovely.

It had taken him a bit to adjust to you but once he told you his name he settled into your life and had no plan to get out.

You had saved his life, or at least you liked thinking you did. Found him in a mask, sitting on an alleyway close to your apartment as he bled out his upper back. You took him because you knew none else would, you knew him, from the news. You knew a hospital would be worse. You took it as a sign.

He became brutally obsessed with you. He stalked you, found out where you worked, where you were studying, your routines and usual places. He appeared at your window sometimes, with some minor injuries, and told you he was doing you a favour by letting you take care of his wounds, saying it was the best way to practice for med school. He always came in excited to show you a new wound "You've never done this one before!" he said every time he got a new type of injury. 

"You need to stop getting hurt on purpose" you put ice on his leg after repeating to him that no, it wasn't broken and no, you were not going to practice on his leg for your cast-making exam because it would just be worse. "It's getting ridiculous"

He scoffed "I don't do it on purpose,"

"You mean to tell me you are just that bad at crime fighting?" You got up, leaving him and his bruised thigh sitting on your couch.

"What? No! No, I'm really good!" He sounded almost childish, like really trying to convince you and you smiled, taking two beers from your fridge, opening them on your counter as he spoke "I'm the best hero in town! Well—now that my best friend is out of prison, I'm the second but I've been the best for like four years! That's like, really impressive"

You handed him his beer, always gave him one even though you knew he never drank it, an excuse to hold him around, "Sure," you leaned on the bookshelf next to your tv, right in front of him "I just," you played with your beer in your hands "really like you, you know? I don't want you going around getting your shit beaten"

He stared at you "You like me?" You sipped your drink and smiled.

"Of course I do," you slowly made your way to him, leaving the can on the small wooden table and kneeling in between it and the couch, looking up to him from the floor "I care about you"

"Oh," he was so hard to read when he felt silent, no facial expressions to give him away "what are you doing?" you had a hand on each of his knees, taking the space between his legs but not really, far enough to not be directly in between them.

"I want to check on your leg, if it really hurts that much" you pressed a hand under his right thigh and got the ice off, putting it on the table. He tensed all over and inhaled sharply, your head darted up "If you don't mind," you looked up at him, not depriving him from your touch. He nodded.

"No, no it's okay," you smiled down at him, pulling his leg up and touching, digging down to his knee.

"Does that hurt?" he shook his head and you went on, leaning in and going up, pressing your palm down and softly rubbing your fingers, he hissed when you touched his inner thigh and you pulled away "there?" he nodded "well, that means you didn't sprain it, probably just a nasty bruise but that's it"

"What if I have internal bleeding?" His words stopped you from standing back up. You raised your brows at him and grinned.

"I can assure you, you do not have internal bleeding" still you didn't stand up, just looked up at him.

He took a beat "I could,"

You eyed him and pressed your lips together. "Do you feel weak? or numb? Like, could you fight right now?" you spoke slowly, one hand on each of his knees again.

"Never! I never ever feel weak, I'm ready, always!" he didn't move either.

You smiled "Then you definitely don't have internal bleeding," he looked down and sighed, comically, with a hint melancholy "what is it?"

"No, what? Nothing" you tried to read him, looking at his entire body, not only his covered face.

"If you want to stay just say that," he shook his head "then what?" he wasn't looking at you when he reached for your hands. He brushed his fingertips against the back of them, lightly grabbing them as you watched amused. He pulled them to him, hesitantly, and let them rest at the end of his waist, then held them there. "Oh…" you pressed your thumbs against the soft part of the suit above his belt, looking at your hands, then at him. You took his waist in your hands, pinning him down, then you stood a bit, still on your knees. You went further down, feeling him breathe heavily. You looked up at him when your hands landed at the bottom of his hips, palm against his thighs, thumb rubbing in between his legs. "Is that what you want?" you couldn't help the smile.

He nodded and murmured something that sounded like “touch”, he was not touching you, just staring into your eyes, still and warm. You slowly raised, unfastening the armour around his shoulders, tossing it to the side. You grabbed the mask on his neck and he pulled away with his entire body "Sorry," you mumbled "I'm not gonna take it off, I just wanna kiss your neck" then a small though started growing at the back of your mind and your stomach dropped a bit “unless you only want me to… You know,” you gestured down, vaguely “just that”

He shook his head “No, no—please,” he sounded impossibly soft, hands making their way to your waist, sinking down and pulling you with him. You smiled, gripping the mask and pulling it up with one hand, standing to sit back down on his lap, one leg on his right and the other between his legs, kissing his skin for the first time. The mask stayed on, as your other hand creeped through his suit, trying to find a zipper or buttons. "It's a two piece," Vigilante sounded like he was melting down, as if he was about to become one with your couch. He breathed deeply and slowly, moved carefully and he sounded yours. He made noises that came desperate out his throat, you were pressed against him, feeling him hard under you. You wanted to make it all wet, cover him in your kisses, show him some care.

"What 'd you say?" you barely raised your when you were done with the hickey on his clavicle.

"The suit," you kissed him again cause it was driving you insane, his little whines and the way his words came out half broken by them "it opens in the middle, there's—mg, there's a belt?"

The thought came back "Oh," that maybe he was just using you to get off "okay" that you had to be just that, quick.

"No that I don't love this, I do, it's just," he breathed in "just so you know,"

You put your hands down on his little utility belt, unfastening it "No, yeah, I know," you weren't looking at him. "I've taken the top part off a thousand times," to patch him up.

"Yeah, right" he said, some of that sweet tone missed.

You sank to the floor once again, knees against the coldness of it. You touched his stomach, pressing a hand and slowly going down, fingertips against the harsh fabric. Your hands met in the middle, one pressed against the inside of his thigh and the other one unzipping his pants. His breathing fastened when you started pulling down his pants.

Once they were off, forgotten next to your knees, you kissed up, what was visible of his stomach. You felt it rise and sink again under your mouth, he put a hand on your head, not quite touching you but keeping you there, and you spread his legs more with one hand and gripped at him with the other. He groaned with his throat and rested his head on the back of the couch, "Oh, fuck, fuck shit—" you kept your mouth on his stomach, small kisses as you stroked him, slowly and deeply. "okay do that, that's really—yeah, fuck," you looked up at him, going a bit faster, with your other hand still opening him as much as he allowed his legs to be.

He looked at you and you wished you could see his face, just to know if he was liking it. It was all you wanted, didn't quite matter if he was just using you to get off, him feeling good, whining and trembling under your touch, was all you wanted.

"God, you are beautiful" his words came out fast and in between shaky breaths but they made your eyes widen. He gripped at your hair and you took it as a sign, burying your head slowly in between his legs. "Mnh… Oh, fu—ck…" he relaxed and you closed your eyes, filling your mouth with his soft taste. His hand guided you, pulling your head down as his hips gave unsteady rolls and his grip tightened.

You pressed with your tongue and he said something that got drowned by a small whine, his other hand over yours on his leg. You rubbed his thigh when you felt him tense again as he hit your throat, hand pulling slightly at your hair and his sounds became shorter, way more constant. It was so obvious how he tried to hide them. You gave some quick thrusts and then slow ones, glancing up at him as you pulled almost all the way out, licking his head, trying to recover your breath before pulling him back in, making him tremble, going faster and deeper, grabbing under his thigh and holding it up, bent a little bit.

He was close to screaming now, murmuring how long he had wanted this in between lovely high sounds as he tried to catch his breath and small incoherent words. "Fuck! Fuck! s—motherfucker, god you feel so fucking…" he took your head with both his hands, his hips forcing him inside your throat, he squirmed and whined failing at behaving himself, "look at me, look at me please…" a sound made its way from the very bottom of his stomach and hit the roof of his throat as it flew out, moving his entire body with it as you pulled away.

"You okay?" you felt warm all over, sweaty on your face and somewhat out of breath. He nodded and let out cut-off moans, sounding like an absolute mess and you wished you could see his face once again.

He pulled you up by your face, one hand still gripping him, stroking slowly; you followed his lead "I like your face so much…" he swallowed "I want more… giveme more," you moved one knee to each side of his torso, sitting in between his legs, staring at him, face still trapped in his hands.

You pressed your thumb against his tip and smoothed down, palm wrapping the body of his dick as you worked on the head, your other hand on his thigh. "You like it like this?" he nodded, head falling down, staring at your hand, consecutive small wet moans matched your movements "you like me close like this, don't you?" he hummed in approval and his hands fell to your hips, under your shirt, fingertips burning into your skin "baby…" he whimpered at the name "you are so needy for a superhero"

He fumbled under your shirt, "off… take it off," you tightened your grip on him, going faster, "please, please… pl—ease" you allowed him to slip it off and he took his gloves off to touch you, pulling you closer, trapping his dick in between your stomach and his. You took him again, rubbing his tip with the skin on top of your belly button "ah… mnh, yes, please…"

You rolled your hips faster, getting all your torso wet with his precum, hand moving fast in between the two of you. His hands were strong on your back, they gripped and moved, squeezing your ribcage, then down as he let out desperate little sounds, grabbing at your pants, pulling your hips as he tried follow your ease, coming off sweetly painful to feel him bruise your skin as you saw him try to resist humping your stomach. You started to allow some sounds come off you, the feeling of his agonizing palms pressing your body being just enough.

"Faster, faster, harder," he kept murmuring "please, you are so fucking…" he couldn't finish, the feeling of your skin been too much and he muffed a scream. You were amazed you could do so much with just your hands and half his body dressed, you wondered what sounds would he make if you had him spread under you on your bed. A sweet feeling hit your stomach just thinking about it and you gave it even faster. "'m close… I'm so close, I'm gonna," you smiled, deepening your thrusts.

"Go on, beautiful, make a mess," he did. He whined and pressed you against him and used all his strength to arch his back and pull up his hips, getting your chest all wet, thrusting against you as the come slid down your stomach and hand. He was shaking all over, desperately pulling you down and brushing himself against your stomach, high sounds hit his throat and he couldn't breathe. When his still masked face fell to the crook of your neck his hands had relaxed but his hips were still giving unsteady small thrusts and his chest was heaving. You let him rest, slipping your hand to the side. "Breathe baby,"

"I like you," his voice was muffled against your skin, really weak and almost broken in the best way "I like you a lot, like, a lot lot, fucking…" he pressed what would have been a kiss against your shoulder if the mask had been off.

"I like you too,"

 Next time, he fucked you.

It was messy, not really planned. He had knocked on your window and it was a warm night; he was excited, something about a mission going really well, he had so much energy, talking fast and moving around as he told you all about it.

"Uhg, I'm so happy I could kiss you right now!" he took you by the shoulders and you stared up into his visor.

You blinked. "Well then?" you licked your lips fast and wished you could see his face once again.

He stood silent for a while "Oh, but I can't," he swallowed "I want to! but I can't," then his hands moved to your hips and he lifted you up, sitting you on your kitchen counter. "I can do other things," you had never heard his voice like that, it was low, filled with desire.

He was good with his hands, really good. Then he was good with his dick too, holding your thighs up around his torso, talking to you, about how good you were, how he liked it. He wasn't too harsh, it was almost sweet, as sweet as a counter-shag with no kisses could be. You finished before him and he left after making sure you were alright.

 "I want you to kiss me"

He had come over almost every night for a week. Sometimes with a small wound, other times with a few beers and a movie. You had fucked him on your bed and on your couch, you had hang out with him, showed him your lego collection and invited him to stay over for the night, though he never wanted to. You got home from work, took a nap, studied, ate something and waited for him, every day for a week. You wanted to wait and have dinner with him, make him something nice. You also wanted him to shower with you after or stay in bed for a while, maybe for him to hold you in his arms or fall asleep beside you. He never did, he came in, waited, got naked for a few hours and then left.

“What?” he asked incredulously with his hands under your shirt, skin to skin, only with his pants on, and his mask of course. Matrix was playing quietly on the screen in front of you but apart from it silence filled the room entirely. You were spread on your couch, one leg on his lap as he traced your body with his hands, he had started at your thighs and was going up, glancing at the movie every now and then when a sequence was really good.

“I want you to kiss me,” you repeated. You were not touching him, resting on your elbows with your head down and your stomach exposed. “I can't keep going like this”

He must have seen something on your face because he moved back just enough “What?” he sounded concerned, really concerned “am I doing something wrong?” You couldn't tell him that he was, you would have, but the way he got his hands off your shirt immediately felt so genuine and after his voice trembled you knew whatever you told him would hurt him “Cause if I am you have to tell me, doing things without consent it's a crime and it's disgusting and I don't want to—do that, to you” he waited for you to say something.

“It's not that,” you did not move, only bit your lip. He waited.

“Tell me” He moved away entirely. “Communication between two people that have sex it´s really important, I´ve read it” He sat back. “You said you wanted me to kiss you?”

“Yeah,” you started sitting too, your legs still resting on his lap.

“Why?” he tilted his head.

You swallowed. “It feels… impersonal,” he just kept looking at you "like, the first few times it was okay but now," it was stupid, you sounded stupid "it feels like you only come here to fuck me," you glanced at him "I know, it's idiotic, I thought I could be mature about it but I guess not,"

"No!" he said, "Absolutely not!" he almost sounded concerned again "That's a feeling you shared and that's really impressive, and helpful because, sex is about communication and like, learning stuff to make it fun because sex has to be fun," sex, its only sex, you thought with a small bitter feeling on your stomach; that's all that’s happening “And to be honest, I think it´s fair to say that you are fucking me and not the other way around,” you looked at him “I like getting fucked, I like the get fucked situation, I don’t want to stop”

“Yeah, no this is nice, I just,” you wanted to kiss him and stroke his hair and bake him breakfast. You didn't know what had gotten onto you, it was an odd feeling and you hated that you couldn't just do what he wanted.

“You want me,” he started “to kiss you”

“Pretty much,”

“But I can't do that, you know that,” he spoke almost childlike “for your own safety,”

He put a hand on your leg and you bit your lip, “What if I couldn't see you?” He tilted his head.

“Oh?” He looked at you for what felt like forever, thinking, then got closer again, slowly, and he took your hands. You let him guide them to the back of his head as you stared into his visor, focusing on what was visible of his eyes under the red. “Okay, take it off when I tell you, only when I tell you” You nodded and he let go of your hands taking his to your face. You took a grip of his mask and he pressed his palms against the side of your eyes, curling his fingers over your eyes, covering them. You couldn't help the smile. “Okay, now”

You pulled up and the mask came off. You felt him sigh as you left the mask in the space between you. Your fingertips traced his skin, he had a strong jawline and small lips. Soft hair was curled around his head and it smelled different than the rest of him. This touch was smooth, he felt like cotton candy.

He laughed a bit “You are tickling me,” his voice was kept low in volume, he sounded somehow different.

“You are beautiful,” you breathed out.

“What?” you felt his brows frown under your hands “are you cheating?”

“No, I can just feel it,” though you already knew he was beautiful even before putting your hands on him.

He hummed and you stroked his cheeks with your thumbs.

You dove into him, your nose pressed against his cheek and the all so sweet, sweet, touch of pink petals around your mouth. It was closed but somehow deep, he was warm in a way that made your ribcage feel too small. He breathed out, a few inches away from you now and you thought he was looking at you. “Wow…” It came out of him on a breath and he stared a bit longer before moving his hands. You pressed your eyes closed when his fingers left them to take a grip of your head, pulling you in, crashing into your lips again. He was almost furious this time but, still as deep and sweet as the first one. When his tongue met your lips you let it in, leaning more, getting closer. You opened your mouth to breathe and he let out a noise, wet with all of you all over him. He kissed you neck next and your eyes remained closed “I like this a lot,” he said against your throat.

“Told you so,” you smiled a bit and he raised up to kiss you, murmuring about liking the way your lips tasted and how good it was and more stuff you couldn't really make out due the incoherence of his words against your lips. It was long after that when he pulled away, his hands exploring the small of your back as you sat closer on the couch and buried your head on the crook of his neck. “ ´m not looking,” you said sleepily.

“I want to do this every day,” he spoke in a way that made him sound lost, like if he was feeling something he had never felt before “I want to do this tonight and tomorrow morning and every time we watch a movie and I want you to do this every time I come over, I want to hang out every day now, I want you to do that every time you see me I want—” he went under your shirt once again, hugging you with his hands skin to skin “fuck, I want, I wish I could live under your skin, I wanna live under your skin inside your chest and be all warm and I, I also want you to keep me like that all the time,”

You breathed a laugh. “I´m not that good of a kisser,” he pulled away fast and grabbed your shoulders and you almost saw his face before closing your eyes and darting your head to the side “Dude, give me a warning, I almost saw you,”

“Can we do this every day?” He had so much energy.

You reached for his face, tasting his jaw with your palm. “Yeah, I mean I wish but, I can't see you.”

“So that's a problem?” you thought about it.

“I guess, long term? Yeah, like, now it's okay but, I dunno, at some point, I don´t know,” you didn't want to think about it. It had been so nice kissing him, it had felt so fucking good, now you only wanted to listen to the end of the movie and fall asleep with him on your couch, think about the future later, live with him now.  

“If I let you see me, can we do that every day?” he tightened his grip on your arms.

“What? Kissing?”

“Yeah,” he sounded determined.

You did want to, you had always wanted to, have him every day, have him wake up in your apartment, have him beside you every day. “I guess so, if you want to”

“Open your eyes,” you felt his face closer to you now. You questioned him, slowly, as if you didn't understand “you can see me, open your eyes, come on,”

You did. He smiled when you did. It was a wide, beautiful, boyish smile. You stared at him, his green eyes, the lines on his cheeks. He had two brown freckles on his left cheekbone, one much bigger than the other. He was stunning, beautiful in a way that felt untrue. He apologized and murmured something when he looked away, to his utility belt. He took a pair of glasses from it and shoved them into his face.

“There I am, me,” his mouth moved as he spoke, his lips were kind of bruised in a pinkish shade, “my name is Adrian Chase, now you know me, and now that you know the secret identity of the second-best hero in Evergreen you are gonna be in so much danger so, as this is my fault, I will stay here some nights, if you don't mind, and I will protect you. You will do that thing that you do, the kissing I mean, as a sign of gratitude”

He was so fucking sweet. “Sure,” you said with your hands back at his face, kissing the side of his mouth a few times “that sounds lovely to me”

 So, the first time they saw you, he had been staying over for something close to two months. You had seen his apartment and you had kissed him there. You had taken him out for dinner and to movie reruns and he had driven you to the outskirts and you had kissed him as he sat on top of his car, under the stars. You had kissed his forehead when he got hurt on patrol, you kissed his cheek the morning he made you breakfast, you kissed his neck and his jaw and his thighs and his shoulders. You kissed him every day because there was nothing that could compare to the look on his face when you did.

First time they saw you, you kissed the corner of his mouth and you took his red hat off. You had come to pick him up from work, to surprise him. He had kissed you inside the restaurant, it had been small, in a corner, before he walked to the backrooms to change out his work uniform.

[mothonfire]

Peacemaker masterlist

All warnings written at the begining of every work.

asks are open!! For requests / headcanons / whatever

My ao3

My Adrian tag (@milkshakeworm)

read on this blog

Voice Cracks ; Part1 || Part2

Pink Petals in Blood Vessels

A Beer in a Wine Glass

[mothonfire]

Voice Cracks

read on ao3 || this masterlist

Adrian Chase // gn!reader 

Warnings ; Smoking (light drug use), descriptios of smut.  

Sipnosis ;  Sweet and distant voice, tender soothing gray swarm of smoke in between two needy mouths. Voice that lives and breathes, sounds stuck in between bruises and kisses.

6.9k 

Part one || 

My core vibrates in an opium haze

Hungry is not a strong enough word. You were starving.

It was cold, colder than you had been in a long time. You were stumbling through some dark alley somewhere in Evergreen´s west side, hugging yourself. You were so fucking hungry you could kill for anything edible. You had been smoking, maybe a bit too much. You couldn’t think of anything just, food. Food, food, tasty loveable food. Now that you thought about it you could have called for takeaway instead of just going out so late at night but, you needed to see a real person for more than three seconds or you would go insane. You needed to just make sure the rest of the world was still alive, needed to see something that was not your yellow-stained walls and your old telly, just, something.

There was a big bright light, out there in an open space, across the road. You had it as a rule, to not cross the road when you were stoned, just in case, but you could smell the restaurant even from your way over there, you just couldn’t fucking resist, it was too fucking much. So you crossed, and you were fine.

“Welcome to Fennel Field´s,” a lady grinned from behind a small counter. She looked tired.

“Hi, uh, you guys still serving dinners?” You held your hands tightly pressed against the counter, leaning in maybe a bit too closely, tapping your fingers on the wood. The place was almost empty. There was a woman eating alone on the back, three people sharing some nachos and just two waiters walking around.

“Yes, we close in an hour” The lady said softly.

“Good, thanks,” you started walking towards a table “thank you, thanks very much.” Slipping into the booth you started looking around for any of the waiters you had seen before, resting your elbows on the table and pressing your hands together. A guy approached, he looked distracted, carrying a bunch of dirty dishes. You reached out to him as he passed by and he flinched a bit “Hey, hi, sorry.”

“Hi” He looked a bit confused, leaning just a bit away.

“Can you please just get me anything, please?”

“Anything?” he frowned down at you but in a way that almost felt sweet, like genuine confusion “What do you mean?”

“Just, any food, your favourite meal I don’t care, something fast” You still had your hand reaching up to him, you wanted to grab him, you would have if the hunger hadn’t cleared your mind a bit.

“Oh,” he seemed to understand, relaxing a bit just to go back to his frowning gaze “Uh, I can’t do that, I´m the busboy,” he smiled “I´ll go get a waiter”

“Please!” You whispered in a yell, maybe a bit too dramatic, your need for his touch coming back stronger, barely able to contain it “Please just, I´m starving man, please.”

He seemed to think about it “Okay,” and he walked away.

You buried your head in your arms at some point, shutting your eyes and pulling slightly at the hair on the back of your head, groaning. You felt so out of it, just so hungry you couldn’t think of anything else, your head spinning so much, asking yourself how could you have forgotten to eat before lighting up the first joint.

“Caesar salad” a voice spoke and the table shook a bit under your face.

“Jesus…” you muttered raising your head slowly frowning at the man before you for a split second, he pointed with his eyes at the heavy thing he had left on the table, standing awkwardly. Just as he said, a big wooden bowl with a Caesar salad shone in front of you, waiting for you to launch at it, throwing your face inside.

“You look like shit so I figured you wouldn’t want any of the fried stuff because fried stuff makes my tummy ache when I'm already sick and I didn’t know if you were a vegetarian so I got you the only salad we have, even though it has a bit of chicken you can just put it away, I´m not even sure if it's real chicken to be honest, sure tastes like it but you have to see it before we cook it, it looks like wet tofu, like sloppy brown muddy tofu. It doesn’t taste as bad, to be honest, but when you have seen it before the grilling you kind of become grossed out by it. The lettuce its good, we just got a new lot this morning so don’t worry about it, because last week someone got really sick, dunno who it was cause it was on my day off, which kind of sucked because my co-worker says they puked literally everywhere and I couldn’t get to see it, but now that I´m thinking maybe it’s better because I would have ended up cleaning all the vomit and even though I don’t really have a gag reflex or I'm really sensitive with any like, gross stuff? But I do hate mopping the floor, is so boring and none ever wants to fight with me Star Wars style, so it’s just boring as fuck!” He rambled and rambled for what felt like hours in an interstellar capsule close to another much more different galaxy. By the time he was done you had already eaten the salad and were looking up at him with half lidded eyes, ready to pass out there and then, so tired and foggy. He just wouldn’t stop talking and somehow it made your head spin at a much more delightful speed, almost how your most liked it.

He left after the lady that had greeted you yelled at him to stop bothering customers and start cleaning tables. He apologized under his breath and walked away, and then you were alone again and missed him so much. The lady said his name but as much as you tried you just couldn’t remember, you thought about it while you paid for the food and on the walk home and right before you slept. He had been the first person to talk to you for so long in such a long time and for your messed up brain that was more than enough to terribly miss a complete stranger and to spend the night trying to remember how the lady had called him. He banished into blueish fog at the back of your mind the morning after.

You came back to Fennel Field´s time later, not intoxicated this time, on your way back from work. It was close to your house, just some extra ten minutes of driving and, sitting in the parking lot, debating if eating dinner was worth the pain of sitting on a crowded restaurant, you found out on the web that you could other the food and then take it home, so you went in but did not see the busboy. You did it more than once, when you found yourself too lazy to make dinner or out of groceries or too damn lonely but, he was never there. You could barely remember his face but oh man, his voice; you were sure that you could even recognize his breathing. It had been so special for some reason, the way he spoke to you, almost lost but stuck on your mind forever.

Next time you smoked he came back. You missed him terribly, painfully even. Only when you smoke. It was the taste of it that now reminded you of him. You could smoke just fine, as you always did, sitting on someone's window or outside, it was a bit worse back at home, alone on your bed, but it was still okay. The high was fine too, as it always was, though you had grown accustomed to falling asleep before you sobered up because that’s when it always started. The taste was a bit too strong and he was a bit too present. His voice was. So you curled up in your bed and let it take you, sudden emptiness overwhelming inside your lungs and you clenched onto them, wishing maybe someone could rub the pain away.

 “Hi, long time no see” The same woman that had been at the counter of Fennel Field´s almost every single night you passed by in those last few months greeted you with the same grin “Caesar salad for takeout?”

Your eyes lit up a bit, she remembered the order “Um, no, I think I´m going to sit down today” You had not stepped a foot inside the establishment in weeks, too busy with work, cleaning up some mess a black ops team did a while ago. Some alien bullshit, some government secrets been spilled out and your boss on trial, with you and your small tech team to clean up the mess. It had been nightmarish.

First night off in two weeks and you had spent it smoking your mind out your head and having dinner at Fennel Field´s, your two favourite things in the world.

“What can I get for you?” That voice. That fucking voice.

“Oh, uh…” Your head snapped up, gaze traveling away from your hands to the man in red standing before you. “Oh, God, you…” Why on earth? Why the fuck did he have to appear the night you were stoned. Again. Why couldn’t you just have a normal conversation with him, a sober conversation.

“Oh, hi, I remember about you.” He was so cheery, smiling down at you, eyes shining behind his glasses. “You look way better today, but still a bit like mashed potatoes.”

“Uh?” It was just hard to focus on what he was saying, after weeks and weeks of him speaking inside your mind that part of him was burned to your skull and now you were trying to do the same thing with his body, with his eyes. Green and bright. His silly smile and his curled up almost mullet and the shape of his nose. His big neck and the bones under it. Burning them deep so deep inside you.

“So,” He had been talking, you did not listen “Do you want another salad?” You blinked up a few times.

“You are a busboy.” You vividly remember him telling you he could not take your order, it was the first thing he said to you. It had been playing on repeat since then.

“Oh, yeah,” He laughed, breathing out “I am!” He was so god damn cheery, even more than the first time “Today Sarah is sick and we are short on staff so I´m covering, they won’t pay me cause it's my day off but it's okay, I don’t have much to do anyways, my bff is out doing secret stuff I can’t tell you about and the doctor said I can’t do any super cool athletic stuff cause if I pop my stitches again, she said she will shoot me again herself. I actually never wanted stitches, I told them I was fine but Chris really insisted so now I´m stuck cause after I passed out again he won’t let me do cool stuff with him again until I get better.” You nodded, mesmerized. He talked and talked and made you go insane, scratching some forgotten part of your brain that had been itching.

“Adrian!” The woman from the counter yelled and he felt silent immediately, turning back to her, frowning in an all so confused facade. He apologized, mouthing a sorry on curled up lips.

Adrian.

“Ugh, sorry, I get carried away…” He said, patting his notepad with his pen a few times, frowning down at it.

Adrian. Oh, God, Adrian.

“Adrian.” It came out on a breath, you could not take your eyes off him. His eyes snapped open and landed on you, he looked surprised “It´s a beautiful name.”

“Oh, thank you” His smile was back and now you could feel one of your own, slowly building itself under your nose. “Cesar salad?”

“Yeah, sure, yeah” you said, and he mouthed an acknowledgement as he started walking away. “You are beautiful” It felt so fucking good, letting it out. It felt so damn good to have him in front of you, you had to tell him.

His brows twisted for a moment before widening his smile “Thanks”

You were happy. Happier than you had felt in a long time. You let your head fall in between your hands, catching it at your chin, and you thought of him once more. He was there. He had talked to you. That was more than enough, and you felt your lungs finally relax. It wasn’t that he made you breathe, he was not the reason you could feel oxygen back at your chest, he just made the tension go away, everything go away, just like smoking but somehow better.

You were not sure how much time it had passed. You had your headphones on, playing some playlist, cheek now pressed against the wooden table, eyes lost at nothing. You were not thinking about him anymore, you were not thinking, just listening and staring. He came back, murmured something you didn’t hear, left your food and walked away. You looked at the back of his head for a few seconds before starting the salad without getting your headphones off.

A paper towel stood under the fork, perfectly folded in four. You started eating before opening it, not really catching on the fact that it was put there for you, by him. That occurred later, after you had caught him staring a few times. You were playing with what was left of your food, not really hungry anymore, when you noticed you were staring down at the paper, noticing it was in fact odd that it was folded four times. You took it carefully and unfolded it.

There was a phone number and a name written in black pen “—Adrian” You smiled, couldn’t help it and didn’t mind it really. Smiled like a fucking idiot and looked around for him, finding he was already looking at you from across the restaurant. You waved and he waved back.

“Is there anything else you would like?” He wasn’t cheery anymore, barely looking at you. You were still holding his phone number in your left hand.

“Yeah,” you said, “at what time you get out?”

He blinked a few times “In ten.”

“Okay, could I have the bill, please?”

“Sure,”

He left and came back with it, you paid in silence. He talked nonsense. “I'll wait for you outside.”

Adrian grinned, for the first time that goofy look of him left him and he walked away with a small “Okay”

You were smoking a cigarette outside, just to do something while you waited. It was kind of cold and it gave you a fake warm feeling. You were leaning against a streetlight with your eyes fixed on the restaurant door, a few feet away from it. Adrian came out the door and started looking around. He didn’t have his silly hat anymore, just a dark zip up jacket with the red uniform under it. You put your cig off in a nearby bin and walked to him.

“Hey,”

“Oh, hi! What's up?” He started walking down the street, looking at you and then at his feet and then back up at you “Dude, that shirt is sick!”

“Mh? Oh, yeah, d´you like Nine Inch Nails?”

“Fuck, yeah, of course I do! That’s also like one of the best albums ever, so fucking cool.”

“Yeah?” You stopped, far enough from the restaurant, in front of a darkish alley, a small dead end.

“Yeah!” Big grin on his face, he stopped too.

You reached up, slowly; your mind foggier than it had ever been. He wetted his lips and bit the bottom one slightly before letting it go, taking a deep breath as he looked right through you. He seemed nervous but leaned into the touch of your hands on his cheeks. You couldn’t stop looking at him, couldn’t believe you were touching him. It was the first time you didn’t miss his voice when he was quiet. You leaned in a bit, wanting to make it slow, give him a chance to just walk away if he wanted to. You were chest to chest, he could feel your unsteady breathing. It was almost romantic. You stroked his face with your thumbs once, twice, a third time, and then you leaned in, stopping a bare inch away from his lips to look him in the eye before closing yours. He was sweet, soft even. He opened his mouth almost immediately, letting you deepen the kiss. He put one hand on your waist and grabbed your jacket with a fist, pulling, the other went to the back of your head. You pressed more closely, slowly getting one hand down to his neck. He took a step back and took you with him, pressing himself against one of the alley walls. You stocked his throat, pressing your thumb against it slowly and he whimpered, taking his hand off your hair quickly and using it to pull your hips even closer, holding onto your clothes, exposing the skin from the small of your back, pulling you up. The hand that was not at his throat made its way down to the side of his chest, pressing him more against the wall with your palm, leaving you room to tilt your head down to his jaw, giving sloppy and wet kisses to it.

“Fuck…” He whispered “You are… So fucking hot, shit…” He turned his head a bit, exposing his neck and you grinned, humming a reply against his throat after stocking it softly “Mhg, fuck, dude…”

You let a few more wet kisses under his jaw before pushing your tongue in between your lips, barely sucking at him.

Adrian´s mouth hung open and without your lips keeping it busy he murmured curses and groaned into the cold air of the night. “You taste like cigarettes” he said at some point.

“Sorry,” you mouthed against his clavicle.

“No, I weirdly like it.” You went up again kissing his lips, he sucked at your bottom lip and slipped a hand under your clothing, gripping at your waist almost painfully but not really. You rolled your hips in reflex and he sighed against your mouth, letting the air out all at once “I also like that,”

You got a better angle at his throat, wrapping it with your entire hand as you kissed him and rolled up your hips against his stomach, starting to feel his length on your thigh. He kept whispering curses to the air as you pushed him more and more into the brick wall, wondering if he was starting to get hurt. “More…” The word was covered in groans and breaths and other thousands of hushed words, but you could make it out just perfectly. You looked up at him. He had his eyes half closed, his glasses were all the way down his nose, his grin bruised by your kisses, almost worse than his neck. He looked like a mess.

“You cute thing,” you said, not stopping with the occasional thrusts “you know, I actually live like… four blocks away, if you want to I could… Take you with me.”

“Yeah,” he could not fully open his eyes but was smiling wider “Yeah, no I would fucking love that.”

You smiled into a new kiss, different, more powerful. He hummed and mouthed and made all kinds of sounds, pushing your hips up and up against him. Then something started sounding, a slight vibratory feeling against your thigh. “I think your phone is ringing”

“Yeah, I know just, let it ring,” he said. God, he wanted you.

Right when you were about to pull away to take him to your apartment, the phone rang again. “Shit fuck, sorry,”

“It's okay,” you pushed away a bit “take it, must be important” When stuff like this happened with other hook-ups it was always awkward, but it didn’t feel that way with him. He felt more comfortable, safer. He had not broken your embrace yet.  

“No, I´m just going to put it in silence,” he slipped the phone out his pocket and it stopped ringing. He turned the lock screen on and a bunch of texts and missed calls appeared, all of them from a contact saved as bff, and by the looks of the texts, he seemed very pissed at him. You could manage to read some of them, he kept spamming dude and we have a fucking situation and pick up. “Fuck…” he frowned and a call popped up, from the same contact. He looked up at you, he looked upset, waiting for you to give him some kind of reply.

“Pick up,” you said, raising your brows with a small smile as you brushed your thumb against the warm skin of his stomach where your hand had slipped before. “It's alright.”

“But he's probably going to ask me to go somewhere,” he was a bit jumpy, like a kid.

“Just pick up, it's fine”

He groaned a bit before letting out a small fuck and pressed the phone against his ear “Yes?”

“Dude what the fuck!” The guy on the phone yelled. Adrian flinched, frowning, moving a bit closer to you “You need to get your ass here right fucking now!”

“Where?”

“Where the fuck do you think, moron? My truck, my fucking truck dude. Come over, right now, and bring your fucking suit.”

“I´m like, kind of busy right now so,”

“I don’t give a shit!” there was a swift on the phone and silence for a couple of seconds, Adrian glanced at you and you bit your lip, worried “Adrian, we need you here, it's important.” A woman's voice this time.

Adrian looked at you and curled up his nose before answering “Fuck, okay, I´m on my way.” And he hung up. “I gotta go”

“Okay,” you pulled away, leaving him room to get out.

“But this was really fun! Like, really, really fun,” he stopped holding you “And I wish I didn’t have to go but, ugh fuck.”

“It's okay, I´ll text you” You tried not to sound so disappointed. You had been so fucking close.

“You will?” he smiled and you nodded “Sick! Okay, okay bye!” and he ran off.

You could still feel the trail his fingerprints had left on your waist long after he was gone. You could feel them walking home, and undressing in your room, when you turned off the lights and climbed to bed. They were fading away with time and you couldn’t stop focusing on them, they were still warm, somehow. You got your phone from under the pillow, plugged it in and added a new contact. Adrian.

“hey Adri,” you wrote, “today was fun <3”. You had been sleeping for a while when he finally replied.

He was in his suit, covered in blood, finally able to sit down on Chris´ porch and take his mask off as Leota made some calls to get people to clean the place. Chris was out too, trying to get Eagly into the truck again. Adrian took his glasses from one of his secure pockets and breathed, exhausted and in a bit of pain. He took his phone out too, checking the time. You had texted him.

“hey Adri,

today was fun <3”

He smiled and felt something silly down his chest where his rib cage ended. You had called him Adri, none had ever called him that before. “Man, you think I can sleep at your place today? There´s some dead guy on my living room and I´m too tired to get the fucker out and clean everything” Peacemaker sat next to him, making the porch crack slightly.

“Mh?” Adrian hid his phone deep in his pocket again and raised his eyebrows “Oh, nah, I gotta run. But sure Leota can help.”

“What? Come on dude, I already know your secret identity, don’t be a bad fucking friend!”

Adrian frowned at that, moving a bit away “Alright, I guess.”

He texted you in the car, after changing back to his work uniform.

“Yes it was!!!, Never got your name btw. Also, is that a heart or a pointy dick?” He was smiling when he started the car.

“The fuck you smiling about?”

“Nothing” It came out too rushed.

Chris frowned and looked out the window “Weirdo,”

“Yes it was!!!

Never got your name btw.”

You never told him, it turns out. You told him. You also told him that it was a heart but that you could get him a pointy dick if it made him happy. You didn’t know but he laughed at that.

You didn’t really text during the day but he ended up asking you out to some bar. He said he´d pick you up after work and drive you there. It actually felt nice, to go out for once. He drove a shitty looking Sebring.

Adrian looked nice, brown shirt and dark jeans on. He smiled and started the car.

“You look very good,” he said, “your eyes are different.” You laughed, it was probably true, you were sober.

The bar was really pretty, neon pink dim lights, music low enough to be able to speak, not that many people. Adrian insisted on buying your drinks and you gladly accepted. You were on your fourth beer now, listening to him explain the concept of time and how different Back to the future´s concept was from Doctor Who´s.

“You know, I never got around to watching Doctor Who” You said, leaning close to him on the tall table you shared.

“Oh, really?” He looked mesmerised.

“Yeah! Star Trek, Firefly, Heroes, all that stuff I did watch, but never Doctor Who.” You drank what was left of your beer in one sip and smiled up at him.

“You've seen Star Trek?”

“´f course”

“That´s fucking hot.” You laughed at that. He was really funny but didn’t notice it, which made it ten times funnier. He just looked at you with doe eyes and brows raised and you wanted to kiss him so bad, so you did. Softly and shortly, just a slow kiss. He hummed and took your face in between his hands, and you wanted to laugh again. He was so tender, so lovely. The fact that he had asked you out and paid for your drinks instead of just coming over to finish what you started the night before had been odd enough, it was odd how he touched you, and how he did not lay a hand on you until you touched him first. It was a good oddness, of course. It felt more than a hook-up, now that you thought about it while he brushed your cheeks and closed his eyes. Maybe he liked you more deeply, you weren’t sure how that would end up for him, but it felt nice that someone touched you so softly.

“Do you want to go to my place?” You asked him and he nodded, tentative hands making their way to yours.

He never shut up, that had been the first thing you learned about him. He could talk for hours and hours, he spoke as you left the bar and on your walk to the car. He felt silent when you slipped your hand under his arm, tugging him close, he lost track of what he was saying and looked at you for a moment “It's cold as shit” You said, pretending him been quiet didn’t make your heart race, remembering the way you had been yearning for his voice just a few days prior. He started commenting about the weather and you felt yourself calm down. You guided him to your place and laughed on your way up to the apartment, about something he had said surely. You slipped the keys in and let him in first, closing the door with your back.

“So, do you want another drink?” You smiled at him, still pressed to the wooden door.

“Not really,” his hands picked at your band shirt “Korn.”

“Of course,” you said. He slipped his hands under the shirt and kissed you, pressing you more against the door. This time it was a hungrier kiss but it was still, somehow, love filled. Or something similar. It was barely noticeable but you started to feel like he maybe wasn’t just a hook-up.

You slowly took him to your room, dragging him by his tack button, slowly walking backwards. You sat on the bed and undid the button, pulling the zipper down slowly. He looked at you, unable to touch you. You leaned into the skin above the waistband of his boxers. He was warm. You kissed him there a few times before sliding your hands up his torso, standing up a bit and helping him out his shirt. You looked at him from behind his glasses, he had adoration written all over his face, mouth slightly open, helping him breathe. You tossed his shirt to the side and leaned in, reaching his neck. You smiled to yourself when you found small marks from the day before. You kissed one of them. He was silent, he had been since he kissed you. No sound came out his throat.

You kissed your way up to his face again “You okay?”

“I can't believe this is happening.” He said reaching down for you “This is fucking insane, I– can’t believe I´m here, with you”

You laughed. You wanted him so bad, he was so soft, so smooth and silken to the touch. You hadn't even looked at his body, yet you found yourself not caring. You took him into bed, eyes fixed on his, and he murmured a bunch of okays and made a few sounds when you climbed to his lap. “I'm going to take care of you” you told him as you guided his hands to your clothes. He took them off. All of them. You laid him on your bed and took the rest of his. He was talking again, small praises slipping off his mouth. You kissed his tummy again, soothing him, making your way in between his legs. You looked down, he was hard already. You took him with one hand, stroking his tip with your thumb. You glanced at him; he was already looking at you. You stroked again and he whined, close mouthed and his belly raised as he choked a breath. You kissed his thigh, slowly and wet, he was so, so warm. You bruised the inside of his thigh, feeling him tremble. “Fu—ck, dude…” You smiled against his leg, stroking him a bit faster, going closer with your mouth as you slowly marked his groin too. “Can you, please, please can you just—” You looked up at him raising your brows, then looked at your hand gripping him. You shoved it as low as you could and kissed his tip, glancing back up at him “No, yeah, yeah that, please.” You did. Tongue first. You felt him tense all over, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You started sucking and pressing with your tongue, rubbing his leg with your other hand. Soothing.

He was big, the length of him hit your throat as you took all of him in. He tried not to thrust his hips against you, but failed. All kinds of curses came out his mouth and he reached down, clenching your hair, whining, head pressed against your pillow. He was perfect just like that, so willing to be made yours.

“St— wait, wait, I don’t want to… fuck, shit,” he whimpered under his breath, heaving “I don’t wanna finish yet.”

You pulled away just enough, breathing into him “Hold it.”

“I can’t” He whispered, with that almost sad face of him, almost like he was sorry, almost asking for an apology.

He made you smile. You sank into his face again, kissing him. You didn’t have the heart to make it rough, you needed it to be tender, needed him to feel how he had been making you feel. How his voice had kept you awake. You needed him to feel good more than you needed to breathe.

“Condom, you have one?” Those damned doe eyes, looking up. You took his glasses off him and kissed in between his eyes and maybe that had been a bit too personal for a stranger but not him. Adrian was yours, for one night he was yours and you were going to pretend he will forever be yours.

“Yeah,” came out in a whisper. You left his glasses on your nightstand and took a condom.

He fit just right, inside you. He felt like he was made for it. He was on top now, holding you by your hips, groaning with your legs round him. You were thankful you changed places, he took good care of you too. He made the most beautiful sounds, asking if you were okay as he gripped your skin until bruises appeared. He was so strong, he looked like he could tear you apart, yet he didn’t. He got carried away, going as fast and hard as he pleased, and you let him. You let him come in just to hear the ripped noises his throat would let out. You felt yourself give in just seconds after. He gave a few more thrusts, inconsistent and messy, and then he let go, falling to you, burying his head under your chin.

“Holy fucking shit,” he said, breathless.

“Yeah,” you laughed, moving him a bit to the side to be able to breathe yourself.

“You are amazing I´m— I, everything just…” he looked up at you “just perfect—the way you breathe is fucking magnificent.”

You sighed a laugh “The way I breathe?”

“Well, yeah, it all comes down to that, doesn’t it?” you could see him smile “You are amusing, fucking hot as shit, confuse me to death. I ́m not one for feelings cause a don’t have those but, there is something weird when you touch me, like my veins are been tickled by some blissful force by— like some kind of internal rainbow bleeding, may be an alien virus but maybe it's a bit late not to infect you with it so, if I´m going to die of an interstellar disease, you are too. Which is kind of—soothing— like you, I suppose. You are calming and bloodrushing. I'm glad to die with you, right now at least. Odd thing to say I know but, I tend to make things weird. Chris tells me that a lot, but you are not like him, nothing at all. You listen, to me. You listen and I think you like it though I ́m not really sure why. You are some kind of ethereal being, all of you is. I like your brain and your body and I like the way you make mine feel. My body and my brain. And your breathing, it keeps you alive so th— it makes it magnificent, stellar, it’s the basis of it all. Thank you, for the care you showed.”

A shaky breath came out your mouth. That was a fucking lot for a one-night stand.

He had fallen silent and you feared he had fallen asleep.

“Adrian,” he hummed against your chest, “do you want us to have a shower? Then we can watch Doctor Who.” He nodded and stood up a bit. He kissed you and you smiled.

“You know, I think we can skip the first few seasons and only watch David Tenant´s cause that man is so fine. I'll explain what happens in the shower.”

“Okay,” it came out small, with a hint of confusion still dragging your voice. You guided him to your bathroom from behind and closed the door so the water warmed the place. You stepped in first and he followed.

“Can you help me? Can’t see jackshit without my glasses,” you took his hand and pressed him against the wall so he could have balance. You started the shower, letting water fall on your head. He stood in front of you, unmoving. You changed places with him, letting water rinse him. His curls stuck to his forehead and you got them out his eyes. After putting a bit of soap on a sponge you started to clean him, slowly and carefully. You took your first good look at his body there. You had already noticed how strong he was and how smooth his skin felt but you frowned when you found black bruises all over his torso and legs. You took special care not to rub those too harshly. You kept finding more and more, yellowish, purple and red bruises all over him. You also found scars. He had a few on his legs and arms, but most of them were on his shoulders and stomach. Some of them were fully healed, white, others, much bigger, were pinkish and shined a bit. He also had recent ones, red lines across his back and shoulders. “Watch it back there,” he had said in a whisper when you started cleaning his back “I was shot a few weeks ago.”

“Shot?” You searched for his face.

“Yeah, I told you, no biggie,” he smiled at you “I´ll love to tell you the story cause it's totally badass but it's confidential.”

He did have a scar on the small of his back but it looked older than a few weeks. You kissed his shoulders a few times and pressed your cheek against him, letting water fall on you as you embraced him from behind. You decided not to ask, you knew better than anyone how shitty it was when people asked about the confidential stuff you did for work. He turned sometime after, you weren’t sure how much, and he stopped humming whatever song he had been lowly singing as he leaned down for your shampoo bottle.

“So okay, you know there is this um, kind of phone booth, right?” He put his hands on your head and started gently stroking, cleaning you as he talked and you closed your eyes. When he was done he took the shower head and poured more water over your head, clearing it. He then cleaned your body as you held onto him, listening to the vibrating sound his throat made when he spoke. After he was done, he kissed your jaw, shutting up. He kissed your collarbones and under your jaw again. He kissed your mouth and smiled. “I feel funny on the inside, like if my guts were a summer gloaming, isn’t that weird?”

You smiled, amused by him. “Not at all.”

“No?” he opened his eyes a lot and you shook your head slightly before kissing the corner of his mouth “Great! I knew you wouldn’t think I'm a weird loser because you are one too!”

You laughed, pulling away to look at him, turning off the shower. “You think I'm a weird loser?” you stepped out, taking his hand to help him and then turning to get a few towels.

“Well, first time I saw you I thought you were kind of a mess. You fell asleep like three times and kept looking at me all weird so, I thought you were just a bit strange. Which is good. Not a loser though, that I thought on the bar, when you told me you´ve read the Silmarillion.” He sounded so brutally honest, not paying attention to what he was saying as he dried himself. Made you smile.

“Are you gonna stay over?” he raised his brows at you “For the night I mean.”

“Sure, if you want to.”

“Yeah,” you whispered and took a small towel and put it on his head, moving it slightly and you held him to look at you “I'll lend you a comfy shirt.”

He ended up in the biggest band shirt you owned and his boxers, laying on top of you in between your legs in your small brown couch as you played with his curls resting on your chest. You felt kind of bad. Your apartment was a mess. Dirty dishes on the sink, smelling like pot, clothes everywhere, dusty and dirty. He was looking into the tv, glasses back on, gently rubbing your thigh with his thumb.

“You know, I´ve never heard of this band” he said and you looked down at him.

“Los Campesinos?” he nodded and then hummed.

“Feels weird to wear a shirt from a band I´ve never heard of, feel like a poser” he talked so lowly, not disturbing the peace, focused on the tv.

“I have some records here, though my phonograph broke a few months ago,” you were just looking at him. “I could go get it fixed and then you can come over and we´ll listen to the albums I have, next time. I'm sure you´ll love them.”

Next time…

He smiled up at you, bright eyed “Yeah, sure, that sounds fantastic”

[mothonfire]

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Presente imperfecto

[mothonfire]

Presente Imperfecto

read on ao3

Tom x Greg (1.9k)

Warnings ; Drug use, descriptions of sex

Sumary ; A fic based on a translation of my favorite quote from a book I hated reading

The shame overtakes me the very moment that, without even looking at me, you stand up and put your clothes back on.

I hold onto my joint and try to focus on the smoke, on getting it out just the way I like it, all puffed together like a white cloud. I don’t look at you either.

You sniff just once breaking the silence, expensive dark blue suit wrapped around you and oxfords hitting the ground as you walk out the luxurious room you rented for us both. You say you will be back; you say you must do some calls. I finish the joint and open a window, I don’t put my clothes back on, just the boxers, you may want to help me dress when you come back, you may not be as vexed.

You text me. Going home, see you tomorrow.

I roll another one.

 We are in a meeting, boring, lengthy, interminable meeting. You are next to me; you haven’t bothered to put a different suit on. None´s looking at you, not even me, none cares about you. You are hurt, I know you are. You want power. You reach for my hand under the table and I still don’t look, I feel it rub against my dry skin and you squeeze as I breathe in. You let go of it, eyes burning on my neck, and you slip your hand into the inside of my tight, feeling the cheap texture of my pants. You move closer, still looking at me; you go high on my tight, too high, so high I have to look at my own hands on the table, on top of useless papers, frowning and begging for you to disappear.

My breath starts shaking, it's hard to steady it, I know you like it, it gets you hard. Sometimes I do it just to get you hard. The meeting is over. You get up first, I know where you are going.

I slip into the men's bathroom. I look at my reflection in the mirror. I ́ve done worse than this.

You look at me when I enter the cubicle, I don’t even bother asking if you had made sure no one else was in the bathroom. You press me against the cold tile, I know you can feel it poking your stomach. You never kiss my mouth, just my neck. You undo the tie but not all the way, just loosen enough for you to open my bottom up and bite my collarbones, slipping your hand into my pants and going fast, hard on me, humping at my hips. I breathe out and undo my belt, I want it to be out of my pants, I don’t want to get them dirty. You don’t seem to mind about yours.

You are biting and sucking at me and my legs are trembling, I try to sit down on the toilet´s tank so you grab one of my legs and lift it, rubbing yourself against me as you listen to the humming of my throat, at the way I whisper your name just the way you like it.

 “Tom… Tom… Oh, Tom… God— Fuck, Tom.”

 You come before I do and try to pretend like it didn’t happen, finishing me, slower now. Just the way I like it, with your other arm around me holding me close. Making me feel small.

I arch my back and you cover my mouth because you know I can’t help but whimper every time I come in your hands, or mouth, or deep inside you.

Our breaths are not connected, mine is faster than yours is, you still have your arm around my hip and I bury my face on your neck.

“Can you, stay? For a minute?” I cry muffed against your jacket. You nod.

You clean your hand with toilet paper and put it on my head. You smell my hair and think I don’t notice.

 You need me more than I need you.

You never kiss me, but you do help me with my tie this time.

 I never feel bad, not for your wife. You think you are playing her, and me. That you are encouraging me into doing whatever the fuck you want, making me yours, maybe you are. Maybe I am playing you. I know you think I want you so bad, I want your lips on mine and my name on your mouth. I want your job. I want your money. I want to feel safe. You want to be loved so bad I know you can’t see it. You never see further from my eyes; you are so stuck in them like the hopeless sad thing you are. I want to feel good; I want to be able to cry in peace. You want to feel like you are not the butt of every joke. I don’t mind the poisonous words, they are familiar, they bring more comfort than a kiss would. I let you fuck me because you hurt me just enough. I know you think you hurt me too much, that you do it too hard, and you think that you are somehow in control of me. You are not.

I´m on an alley, we haven’t seen each other outside of work for a month. I´m smoking.

“Greg,” you, on the phone “are you free tonight?”

“Sure, dude,” I try, shivering, puffing out to make my body believe there’s something warm inside it.

“Great,” I can tell there's none around you, you sound like you, the you only I know “come.”

“Okay,”

 You don’t fuck me, not initially. You have my favorite cider freezing inside the refrigerator, we drink a bit. Getting me drunk, getting yourself drunk, will help you cry.

It's not pleasant, the way your brows twitch and I can see the sour sparks on your eyes, as if you were close to tears. You go numb, when it finally takes over your eyes and they burn bluer than usual. You talk, sinking into the couch, begging for my touch. I lean and pull you into my chest, kissing your hair. We sit awkwardly like that for a few minutes.

 “I sometimes wonder, if it could have been another way,” you say, sinking deeper into the comforting depths of my body, resting on my lap like a child. “If we would have still met,”

That would have never happened.

 You took the wrong drugs in the wrong other and now you can’t be happy. Because I've ruined it. I know I did, I knew as soon as I met you. I thought it would involve fewer corporal engagements, I thought it wouldn’t involve the blood you took from me. I hoped I could live the way I did, with money and wealth, I did not expect my guts to be junked out of my stomach by my mentally weak boss. My sensitive friend. The love of a life that was impossible to live, not that way, not with those drugs in that other. Not when the day we met you proposed to someone else. Not with the way you look at me as if you are blood thirsty, wanting to get everything out of me. Wanting me on my knees. Wanting me beside you at six in the morning.

Convenient, wouldn’t it? An easy way to never sleep in for work, to never take public transport again, just ride beside you. Walk right behind you into the building.

Always behind you.

 We walk to the kitchen again, it's late and I lean into the kitchen island with a beer in my hand because we drank all the sweet pink cider. I’m thinking with my elbows on the cold marble, I do not notice when you stop talking about whatever. I stopped listening as soon as you gave me that shaky dismissive smile and your back was not touching my legs anymore. I think about you, how I hate the palace you have built around you and how much you hate it too. How desperately you need it, how gravely you hold onto the ties and the fine wines, not ever able to let them go, ever, ever. How I want a piece of the white cake, my own room in the palace or, better off, a spot in yours.

 I hear you breath out “Greg,”

My head turns to face you, awkwardly standing behind me looking with those drowning eyes or yours.

What I don’t realize is the single tear that runs down my cheek and hits the white ground. You are melting into my eyes, breathing with your mouth. You lick your lips and press them together. One step closer and I can’t move. Another one. A third one.

Your gaze flickers through my face. Your hand reaches up into my hair and your fingers get stuck behind my ear. You press our foreheads together and I shut my eyes frowning. When is it my turn to cry?

 “I want you” I regret it as soon as it leaves my mouth. “Tom,” a bare whisper that I hope writes in the air how deeply I need you, how I crave your skin but I wish for it not to burn me, how I want you to speak.

You breathe out with your nose and collapse onto me. Your lips taste like red wine and they are soft against the cracks of mine. Our mouths make a clicking sound when you pull us apart for a fraction of a second, getting a better grip on my hair, pushing my hips into your stomach as you hug me and arch me. Allowing my tongue slowly into you.

Then it hits me. I need you. I need you and crave you and want you as much as you do. There is no business strategy, no stress reliever, no plan B. It’s you, holding me tightly as you make sounds I’ve never ever heard out of your mouth before. It has always and will be forever you.

 “Fuck… Greg,” you exhale when you pull away, still leaning into me, still touching your nose with mine. Your chest goes up and down at the same speed my heart pounds blood into my vessels. Our breaths are not in sync but maybe that’s not what I should have been searching for.

“Tom,” I can’t say it. I can’t.

“I love you, Greg. I do.” My hands go numb, they ache, then my arms have no feel either. I feel like I really need to smoke. I can’t move and the hands feel terrible, like if they were boiling from the inside.

“Fuck,” I say and it comes out as a wet laugh. A drowned grin. “I don´t—,” I look down into your soul, blue dots on your face open a portal to it “Fuck, Tom. Yeah, I— You are important, so very important and, Tom, I can't— Say… I´m sorry.”

“You don’t love me.” It's not a question.

 “My Nero, I´ll follow you to the depths of hell,” you are tense, I feel it. I swallow. “Maybe a bit further.”

You hug me and bury your face on my shirt.

 And still now I think, that if I don’t say it, if I don’t wrap my still bleeding heart on a bow and hand it to you, staining your ring red, dripping into the white tiles through your fingers, maybe then I´ll still have some leverage over you. 

[mothonfire]

Francis¡¡ // 

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