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training4theapocalypse · 1 year ago

Text

Never Been Kissed (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 7.3k

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

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

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

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Chapter text:

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

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

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

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

“Are you the PI?”

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

You nod. “TechConomos?”

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

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

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

“Fuck it! Fuck, fuck fuck!”

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

Vigilante.

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

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

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

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

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

“You know each other?” asks Harcourt.

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

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

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

“Why are you on the floor?”

“I hurt my pinky toe.”

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

“Nononono! Wait!”

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

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

“No…” he mumbles sheepishly.

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

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

You don’t deign to reply.

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

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

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“I know everything that goes on in Evergreen.”

“And?”

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

“How much?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he did keep his mask on.

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

“Ha! I knew it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about the gorilla?” asks Harcourt.

“The gorilla is at Glan Tai.”

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

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

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

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

Aliens.

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

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you dare.”

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

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

“I can’t -”

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

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

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

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

“But he’s seen it?”

He nods.

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

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

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

Right?

“You want some peanut M&Ms?”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh no.

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

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

You run your hands through your hair.

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

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

They’re fucking crazy.

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

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

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

The four of them look at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe a fireman with these big strong arms?”

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

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

You laugh. “I guess so.”

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

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

“Can you pull him out?” You ask John.

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

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

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

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

“You wanna come and soften the blow?”

“I’ll drive.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Because he can be an asshole.”

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

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

“Like not revealing his secret identity.”

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

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

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

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

He’s alive.

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” Harcourt says simply.

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“Right. Yeah, you’ve been here.”

“A couple of times, yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I meant I’m sorry about us.”

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

But it is a big deal.

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

Trust.

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

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

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

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

“So you know… everything?”

“Yup.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can handle myself.”

“Then why did you hire me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was being tortured by Goff-”

“The senator tortured you?”

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

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

“Shit, V. That’s horrible.”

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

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

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

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

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

Adrian.

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

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

“You have friends.”

“Yeah, right.”

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

“I’m not that smart.”

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

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

“You can tell me anything.”

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

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

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

Christ, look at him.

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

“Thanks, I know.”

You laugh again. “And modest.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then we just won’t stop this time.”

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

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

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

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

“Wait -”

He turns back around in his seat.

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

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

You smile and his lips meet yours.

It’s nothing like you imagined.

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

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

You’re totally screwed.

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

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

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

“What’s the verdict?” he asks.

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

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

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

“Fuck!” He pulls away and winces.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adrian clears his throat. “Uh...No?”

He so did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to fuck you. Please.”

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

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to - ah fuck.”

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

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

“Better?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say it again.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna-”

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

His neck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where else would I be?” you laugh.

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

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

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

“You like peanut M&Ms now?”

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

“Then why…?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d like that. A lot.”

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

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

“I know.”

“And I’m glad you’re on the team.”

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

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x you #vigilante x you #vigilante x female reader #smut #adrian chase smut #vigilante smut #fanfiction #freddie stroma #fanfic #peacemaker

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sandy-the-glader · 10 months ago

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Is That Me?

Character: Adrian Chase x Gn!Reader

Type: Fluff

Length: Drabble (500 words)

Summary: All month you have been ranting to your best friend about your celebrity crush and Adrian gets a little jealous. Little does he know that the face is quite familiar.

Trope: established relationship

A/N: Since Peacemaker confirmed that a lot of celebrities exist in the DC universe I thought this was adorable. Also, I saw someone do this with a different celebrity a long time ago so credit to them! Hope this will tie you guys over until I finish the requests since they are taking longer than I thought they would.

"Who is he?" Adrian stood in the doorway of your guy's shared bedroom with folded arms and a concerned look on his face. You looked up from your phone with a confused look.

"Who are you talking about?" You sat up on the bed with your phone in front of you. Adrian sighed heavily

"You know who. The dude you've been talking about non-stop." You couldn't help the smile that broke out on your face. You had been ranting to your best friend over the phone for weeks about this really handsome actor you came across recently because he looked exactly like your boyfriend.

A giggle bubbled up inside you and you started to laugh hard. You couldn't keep hiding the celebrity from Adrian.

"What's so funny?" He frowned at my reply. You almost felt bad but once he realized who it was he would feel much better.

"Are you jealous Adrian?"

"Gonna be honest yes I am a little bit! Who is he?" He came closer to me making me look up at him. Seeing him jealous was honestly really attractive.

"Do you really want to know?" You teased trying to keep pulling a reaction out of him.

"Yes." He whined. You unlocked your phone and typed up the actor you had been obsessing over. You hesitated to show him because the joke was really enjoyable. But you finally flipped over the phone to him and showed him.

At first, he squinted and adjusted his glasses to see the man better. Then his face morphed into confusion and shock.

"Is this me?" He exclaimed scrolling through the images that popped up of him. "He's me but blonde?" He looked so startled.

"No! Freddie Stroma." You giggled. Adrian sat down on the bed absolutely starstruck by the information of him having a look alike.

"Oh my god, I was in Harry Potter." He muttered. You continued to smile and laugh at his reaction. "Are you sure this isn't me? Did you like photoshop my face on some random guy's body?"

"I definitely did not." You watched his face morph into so many emotions. Curiosity, confusion, and some sort of happiness.

"So this whole time you've been obsessing over a guy that looks like me?" He still continued to scroll and look at everything he's done. You nodded a couple of times. "But I'm right here." He shrugged his shoulders. Adrian narrowed his eyes at the screen still flabbergasted by the whole situation.

"But do you have a hot British accent?" you joked.

"Yes. I do now!" He put on a fake voice making you kiss his cheek.

"I just wanted to see how you would react baby." You hummed hugging him from the side. "And now there's an actor that looks like my boyfriend," You repeated to kiss him on his cheek making his face go all warm.

"Please don't say you're going to leave me for actor me." He turned his head and had a look of genuine fear in his eyes for a minute before you cupped them and told him no.

"No honey I'm not going anywhere." He leaned in to capture your lips in a heartfelt kiss that made your heartbeat quicken. You didn't need a celebrity that looked like your boyfriend because you already had him in your arms.

"Are you still jealous?" you joked making him smile.

"Defiantly not because it's me." He smiled like a dork. You were happy to have your love in your life. "I guess I'm an actor now." You shook your head.

"Nah my boyfriend is the badass Vigilante."

#Adrian chase #freddie stroma #peacemaker #adrian chase x reader #freddie stroma x reader #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x you #vigilante x reader #vigilante #pookie bear alert #i love him sm #hes so cute #adrian chase fanfic

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busylickingsatansballs · 8 months ago

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Three's a crowd

Adrian chase x reader slight Rick Flag x reader

Warnings: slightly smutty, swearing, stalking, voyeurism and I think that's it if there's anything else lmk.

Summary: Adrian's a stalker but maybe this time it's not completely unwanted.

A/N: I had a dream about this.

Where are you? We need to talk. Come to your place now.

Who the fuck did he think he was? Why the hell was he at your place? He’s not your boyfriend he had no right to order you about. Sure he was handsome tall, dark, conventionally attractive it was his personality that ruined it. Always wanting to be in your space, wanting to team up for missions. it was too much. You’d teamed with leota as much as you could which is why you’d grown so close. It was a little awkward at first given who your dad was but that soon melted away when she realised you were nothing like him.

Your shoulders tensed and your stomach twisted, how the hell those four little words had the power to bring every bad thing you’ve ever done flashing before your eyes you’d never understand. You weren’t a bad person, maybe a tad morally grey sometimes but that was to be expected being peacemakers little sister. Sometimes you had to make the hard choices because Chris just couldn’t.

You glance over at him on instinct laughing loudly as he not so subtly flexed leaning closer to Harcourt desperately trying to impress, she seemed more open to it than she did when the team first got together. She wore a relaxed smile and that black shirt that Chris said made her tits look ‘Stellar’ Adrian couldn’t make it busy patrolling, he’d been doing that a lot lately.

Your stomach flutters as an image of him in his vigilante costume comes to life especially his ass, God he was gifted.

And you were being a pervert.

You flex your fingers, eyes drinking in the room. As you down the rest of your drink chasing away all thoughts of Adrian as you type a quick ‘what’s up’ back to Rick. There was no point in but you asked anyway he was a face to face guy liked to watch your reaction before you had chance to rehearse it. Leota notices you picking up your jacket “leaving already?”

“got people to see places to be” you retort fingers tight around the now empty glass.

She cocks a brow “and what people might they be” she sasses playfully. you gesture to your phone spinning it round so she can read across the table.

“Y/Ns in trouble ” she sings but it’s lost to the noise of the bar.

“grow up, think you’ll survive without me?” leaning back in her seat she cocks her head towards the others.

“hell yeah, Chris has been putting the moves on Harcourt all night and I want to see what happens. Good luck. ”

Shrugging on your jacket you throw your arms around Leota in a tight hug she easily returns with an enthusiasm you could only blame on the booze you’d both knocked back. “thank you. See you all later” you call to the others with a tight smile, you don’t wait for them to reply as your already spinning on your heels and rushing out the bar on your way home.

It’s quiet when you make it to your apartment block, has it always been this quiet or were you just paranoid?

You sway still slightly drunk regretting not calling an uber. You pull out your keys letting yourself into the lobby passing the night security you give him a nod of acknowledgement as you head straight for the elevator. Nerves kicking in as you punch in the number for your floor, your fingers tingle as you press your fingers flat against your palms, bouncing on your feet trying to ease your anxiety you realise Rick never messaged you back.

You squint at the brightness of the lights as you make your way down the hallway to your door, your ears pick up what you think is faint arguing, which you brush off as your neighbours until you realise the closer you get to your door the louder it is. Rick never mentioned bringing anybody with him, your skin prickles as you reach the end of the long hallway putting your hand against the door as it squeaks noisily you realise it’s slightly open which in your slightly tipsy state you’d overlooked. You push it all the way surprised to find Adrian on one side of the room clad in full vigilante costume aside mask and Rick on the other in army pants and an almost too tight ridiculously orange shirt.

“what the fuck is going on?” both men’s gazes snap to you and for the first time all night Adrian thinks he might faint. Rick was a sneaky bastard, Adrian wishes he’d shot him as soon as he’d caught him snooping through your apartment. It was harmless of course Adrian wasn’t a creep, no he was a concerned friend who just happened to be passing by who had to make sure your apartment was secure.

And jerk off to your underwear, Okay so he was a pervert. Sue him, he couldn’t help it. You made him feel hot, dizzy to the point it was a miracle he could look you in the face at times.

His skin was melting he was sure of it, his suit felt tighter, almost fused to his skin. Rick shifts slightly out of the corner of his eye and his gaze snaps back almost as if he’d forgotten he was there.

“I can explain” he begs, literally begs hands clasping in front of him as he pleads for you to understand with his eyes. You’re not sure you do but you could never be mad at him.

He was your friend, a fiercely loyal one at that. Whatever was happening you were sure it was a misunderstanding.

“like hell you can, you’re a pervert.” Rick snarls.

You shoot Rick a look “don’t call him that.” he looks taken aback.

“he’s a sicko Y/N” Rick doesn’t let up before turning to Adrian. “I know exactly what you are, I know that you’ve been watching her that’s why I followed you. I fucking knew I’d catch you eventually.” Rick looks triumphant, smug and it bothered you to no end.

Who asked him to get involved, yes Adrian could be a bit much at times but you always found his enthusiasm sweet. There was something sexy about a man who wasn’t afraid to show he cared that you just couldn’t get enough of.

And now you’re all just awkwardly stood there in what appears to be the worst Mexican stand off ever. Rick’s staring holes through Adrian, Adrian’s looking between you both as you debate whether it’s worth having that bottle of red you’d been saving for a special occasion.

You need to de-escalate this and fast, Rick looks more ready to jump across the room as time goes on and the last thing you needed was another noise complaint.

“look I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation to why he’s here” moving the hair stuck to the back of your neck you roll your shoulders.

That was a lie.

“bullshit” Rick snaps “I see the way he looks at you, following you like some puppy and he’s just always right fucking there Y/N open your eyes.”

Adrian stiffens he really didn’t think he was that obvious thought he was playing it cool.

“why does that bother you so much? Maybe I don’t mind it” both men stare at you and you wish you’d gone for that bottle.

“It is late I need to shower and go to sleep, I don’t have the energy for this right now. We can talk about this later. But for now you need to go.” You point to the door and wait.

Rick’s face is less than pleased but he knows when he’s lost. He walks past you murmuring about how this was the last time he tried to help, shoulder brushing against yours slamming the door behind him.

Adrian moves to the window probably to go out the same way he got in “not you” you snap.

He balks stopping short hands dropping from the window.

Maybe he could run for it.

“so” you start after a few seconds of awkward silence.

The air is tense, you feel hot thinking of him watching you but maybe that’s the alcohol in your blood.

Adrian straightens up half expecting you to tell him what an utter fucking creep he was. “what are you doing in my apartment?” you try to meet his gaze which he drags lazily around the room.

“was checking that your apartment was secure” even he doesn’t believe that lie.

You snort god he was such a bad liar.

Making your way across your apartment throwing your phone down on the kitchen counter before turning and leaning against it in a way that draws his attention down to your chest making his cock twitch.

You don’t miss the way he shifts to arrange his pants.

You find Adrian closer than before but not as close as you’d like. Like he was still debating leaving.

You don’t want him to.

What the hell wrong with you? He’d broken into your home and let’s face it was probably stalking you.

And you wanted him closer.

“do you break into all your friends apartments?” you pull yourself up to sit on the counter legs swinging childishly.

Adrian drinks in your relaxed state, It almost seems you like this, almost.

I mean what was he supposed to say to that?

Hi yes I’m stalking you, I’m so in love with you I stand on the roof opposite your building, jerking off, watching you because you never close your fucking curtains. And if you don’t close them you must like it a little bit. I stole your underwear, lay on your bed when you’re not home just to be surrounded by your scent.

You drive him insane.

No that was too much you’d definitely tell him to get out and he already feels like the ground he’s treading on is fragile.

“I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve seen. I like watching you.” And from anyone else that could be so innocent but with the way he’s looking at you, you know it’s anything but.

You fix him with a look but his gaze doesn’t falter doesn’t break under your own.

“so you’re a pervert then” his eyes flash and heat floods straight to your core.

This was dangerous but he was past caring.

“yeah - yeah I’m a pervert” his voice strains, Adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallows, your eyes follow the movement.

“I don’t mind you watching me” he steps closer. This couldn’t be real.

You slide from the counter to move closer

“yeah?” he was going to explode.

“I still need to shower” hoping he gets the hint, he does.

“I could join you.”

“It would save water, good for the environment.” He agrees wordlessly his eyes don’t leave yours, you both stand there desire swirling making the air hot.

You drop your gaze to the floor.

Your hair is damp stuck to your face, Adrian reaches to push the stray hairs back into place.

Then reaches slowly behind you to cradle your head, you tilt it up to look at him.

And you just can’t fucking take it anymore.

Pulling him in lips meeting in a less than graceful manner all teeth and tongue as he presses you back into the counter, hand turning to fist your hair. Your cunt pulses between your thighs as his fingers dig into your skin lifting you effortlessly, you hold on locking your legs around his waist.

Your back meets the wall, his hips roll against yours making you see stars. And it’s the first time you’ve really felt him and my god was he gifted.

You pull back as soon as air becomes a requirement taking in a gulp, as his lips move down your neck to your collar bone creating a blazing trail, his teeth graze your soft skin making you shiver.

Like he wants to bite but doesn’t.

“Shower.” You pant, wordlessly he carries you to where your bathroom is and you want to ask him how he knows but remember that’s a stupid question.

Of course he knows.

Yeah, you were definitely getting a noise complaint.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #peacemaker #Peacemaker imagine #vigilante #vigilante x reader #smut #rick flag #christopher smith #Christopher smith x reader #Fanfic #Imagine #freddie stroma #11th street kids #11th street kids x reader

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frankiethedarkangel · 1 year ago

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Guys…. I met Freddie!!!! He’s such a sweetheart <3

#peacemaker #peacemaker fanfic #vigilante #freddie stroma #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #adrian chase x y/n #adrian chase x female reader #chris smith #christopher smith #james gunn #peacemaker x you #peacemaker x reader #vigilante peacemaker #peacemaker smut #vigilante fanfiction

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training4theapocalypse-backup · 2 years ago

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On Her Majesty’s Supersonic Service (Adrian Chase x Reader) Ch. 2

Chapter 2: Bird after Reading

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: SMUT, Fluff, Romance, Praise, Descriptions of murder, Descriptions of violence, Phone sex, Send noodz, FaceTime sex.

Summary: On a rare night off after the Glan Tai massacre, Vigilante gets your phone number from the 11th Steet Kids group chat and talks you through some things.

A/N: He is being really, really sweet to Birdie and she can’t help but be charmed by him. My heart :(

Masterlist

Chapter Text

Last night did not go to plan.

Still, the sound of pleasant chit-chat hums through the air as everyone loads up the van to make the two-hour journey back to Evergreen. The team is in good spirits on this bright summer morning after a successful mission. Everyone except you. You just want to curl into a ball and die.

After clearing up last night’s misunderstanding you practically ran back to your tent to hide in shame. Adrian called after you “Wait! So we’re not even gonna cuddle?” but you couldn’t even bring yourself to turn around and acknowledge his wounded voice with a glance.

It was only when you were nestled back into your own sleeping bag that you noticed your lip was cut and bleeding from when you hastily removed the duct tape to use your sonic scream.

This morning, however, you’re kind of surprised to find that Vigilante has a spring in his step already. “Good morning!” he beams cheerily, leaning against the van as you and Chris are the last to haul your duffel bags and packed tents over to the vehicle.

“Woah, what happened to your lip?” asks Economos. You give a small dismissive shake of your head and glance at Vigilante.

“Hey- let me get those for you.” says Vigilante. Chin in the air, you stride past him and load the bags yourself. You can’t accept special treatment from him after last night.

Not any more special treatment anyway.

“Thanks, Vij,” says Chris, tossing his bag into Vigilante’s outstretched arms.

“Aw, man!” He pouts after you.

You brace yourself for confrontation as your steel-toed boots continue to stomp over to where Harcourt and Adebayo are discussing next steps. You wait for them to finish, back straight, eyes ahead, hands folded behind you.

They look up from the iPad. The mischievous glint in Adebayo’s eyes and the smirk on Harcourt’s face tells you that Adebayo has been briefed on the mistaken attempt to rescue you last night.

"At ease, soldier. Or should I say 'damsel in distress'?" teases Harcourt.

“What was Vigilante going to do, Blackbird? Tie you to the railway like an old-time cartoon villain?” Adebayo adds with a laugh.

The brutal intelligence officer training you’ve endured enables you to remain composed and you stand tall preparing to explain yourself, despite the dread stirring in the pit of your stomach. As neither of them knows sign language you pull out your phone, quickly type a message on your notes app and hold up the screen

‘I apologise for acting unprofessionally last night.’

Harcourt pulls a face, deciding how to proceed. She really should reprimand you for indiscreetly fraternising with a colleague. But you’ve noticed the way her gaze lingers on Chris Smith lately and you wonder if that’s why she’s choosing not to jump down your throat.

Adebayo beats her to the punch “Listen Blackbird, we’re only giving you shit because we’re your friends.”

“Yeah but if Smith or any of those fuckers,” Harcourt points at the rest of the team beside the van “If they have anything to say about last night, we’ll tell them to go fuck themselves.”

Well. That was very unexpected. And, despite yourself, your shoulders loosen slightly as you feel a rush of gratitude for the pair sweep through you. You have respect for both of your colleagues but you didn’t think that they’d consider you to be friends. Let alone friends who would back you up if the rest of the team gave you a hard time. You type on your phone again.

‘It won't happen again’

They read your screen and then share perplexed glances.

“I get it, I mean, even if I was straight I definitely wouldn’t have sex with either of the roided-up himbo lunatics on this team… would you?” Adebayo asks Harcourt.

Harcourt hesitates.

“I don’t know. Peacemaker is mostly a piece of shit. But I guess he’s kind of handsome?”

They laugh and you allow yourself a small smile. Harcourt hates that she’s interested in Chris even more than you hate that you might feel a tiny bit of attraction to Vigilante. Your turn to look at the rest of the group and catch Vigilante staring over at you, clearly interested by the giggling.

“All I’m saying is- it couldn’t be me. Remember, Vigilante is kind of fucked up. I heard he murdered people for doing graffiti for crying out loud!”

You consider this. Adebayo is right but then again, you’re no beacon of morality. Peacemaker isn’t the only one on this team who’s done unspeakable things on behalf of a government agency. A government agency that now hates you and sent you on this mission as a punishment for your misdeeds. So what if Vigilante kills people on his own accord?

“Don’t dwell on last night. It’ll only distract you from the mission,” says Harcourt “It’s not even the most embarrassing thing that’s happened so far. Remember when Adebayo showed everyone that picture of her vulva?”

“Hey!” Adebayo hits her arm with the iPad. “It’s a risk you gotta be willing to take for amazing phone sex.”

“Listen, all of us can see that you and Vigilante work well together in the field. Maybe it’d be the same outside of work? You could teach him about sarcasm… he could teach you to be less serious.”

This is rich coming from her, who insisted you all referred to her only as Agent Harcourt until literally yesterday.

Adebayo echoes your thoughts “Coming from you?!”

“Serious like in a sad, solemn kind of way,” she explains with a pitying look “If anyone needs cheering up it’s Blackbird. No offence.” She adds.

None taken. Losing your voice has made you simply recede into yourself with despondency. You look over at Vigilante who gives you an enthusiastic wave. You feel guilty for ignoring his offer of helping you with your bags. Maybe spending more time with that maniac will do you some good.

“Just be careful.” Adebayo shifts uncomfortably as she watches Peacemaker and Vigilante roaring with laughter at Economos gesturing like he’s wielding a chainsaw, regaling the story of yesterday's mission.

After finding out that Murn wants a briefing of yesterday's events, the three of you walk back to the van. Vigilante extends a gloved hand to help you up into the back. You hesitate for a beat too long but he keeps his hand out all the same. You grab it, allowing him to pull you in.

You perch on the seat next to him and when the doors close and Economos starts driving, he removes his mask.

Ugh, he’s even more handsome in the daylight.

“Y’know Blackbird, you’re the only one who hasn’t removed your mask yet,” says Chris, removing his helmet. “You saw Vij last night, which means we all know each other’s faces now.”

Oh. Your domino mask - issued together with your suit- covers from your eyebrows to your cheekbones. You’re supposed to wear it on missions to conceal your face from both CCTV and civilians. You shrug and remove the mask, unpeeling it from your face- your life is in London so it’s not as if you have a secret identity here to worry about.

“Wow,” remarks Adebayo “You look exactly the same.”

The van erupts in laughter and you smile reluctantly.

“Nuh-uh, we know she has eyebrows now!” says Adrian. “I’m glad you have eyebrows by the way,” he adds quietly to you.

The good spirits continue as you speed along the highway- ugh, motorway, you take a mental note to eradicate the Americanisms you’ve picked up on this trip from your vocabulary. The team plays music and bonds over their shared love of Glam Metal. It’s not really your thing but you enjoy just being amongst the camaraderie.

This time yesterday you had all been at each other's throats. But apparently almost being beaten to death by a giant gorilla controlled by a butterfly was just one of those things that you can’t go through without becoming friends afterwards.

Adrian’s gaze lingers on you for longer than usual. Your eyes meet his but he doesn’t look away, embarrassed, as most people would if caught staring. He studies you blatantly and then leans in to whisper in your ear. The sudden intimate closeness takes you by surprise. You’re acutely aware of his knee pressing against your own and you catch another whiff of his bergamot and bonfire smoke scent.

“You’re even prettier without the mask.” Adrian whispers into your ear and the warm vibrations of his breath make the hairs on your neck stand up pleasantly.

You see Harcourt and Chris watching you interestedly from across the van so you give a pronounced roll of your eyes at his remark. “And I can see you rolling your eyes at me even better now!” he adds earnestly.

The van hurtles its way towards Evergreen and Harcourt takes out her phone to snap a picture of you all. You listen to them reminisce about concerts while Adrian tries and fails to include you in the conversation. Chris suggests he asks you ‘Yes or No’ questions and he fails miserably.

“What’s your favourite band?” You raise an eyebrow as Chris berates him.

“She’s British so I know she prefers The Spice Girls to Motley Crue!” exclaims Adrian “Right?” You nod and he beams.

A while later you pull up to the video shop. You listen as the team debriefs Murn on what happened in the factory. “This is good work,” he says, nodding at the equipment on the desk. “We're gonna need to sort through this but that can wait until tomorrow. You all have earned a rest.”

Adebayo raises a fist in celebration and you all file out towards the car park, laughing and joking. You and Adrian fall behind the rest of the group. “You know I really wish Economos had passed me the chainsaw. I’ve always wanted to kill someone with one.”

You give a small nod but your agreement is actually sincere - it would have been kind of hot if you had gotten the chance to see Adrian wielding the chainsaw. But after last night, you’re definitely biased. His face lights up at your silent encouragement.

“See!” he yells to Chris up ahead “Blackbird agrees!”

“That’s only because she’s fucking you!” retorts Chris without turning around. You glance at each other and both put your masks back before exiting the building.

Vigilante’s pace drops and you match it- you can tell he’s prolonging your goodbye “I’ve got to get to work but do you need a ride home first? I’ve got the Vigalante-mobile.” he gestures to a beat-up old Chrysler Sebring. You shake your head and jerk your thumb over to Economos who’s waiting at his own car- you’re staying at the same motel.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks. His eyes are obscured but you think he’s looking at your lips. Is he going to kiss you? You’re annoyed at how hopeful your inner monologue sounds.

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach as he places a gloved hand on your chin and tilts your head up towards his masked face.

“Sorry about your lip. I didn’t realise duct tape was so dangerous.” You shake your head to say it’s not your fault. His thumb brushes the corner of your mouth and you resist closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. Economos clears his throat and Vigilante withdraws his hand quickly as if burned. You give an awkward nod goodbye and walk over to Economos’ car.

For fuck’s sake John.

You glare at him and decide to make him stop by a liquor store on the way home.

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

Back in your motel room you pour yourself a large whisky and run a shower. As the water is warming up you get a ping on your phone.

‘Emilia Harcourt added you to group ‘11th Street Kids’’

Harcourt shares a group photo of you all in the van. A smile creeps over your face as you examine it. You’re sitting next to Adrian and you just now realise his arm is resting on the back of your seat. Was he working up the courage to put his arm around you? He’s less sure of himself in the daytime than when he’s lurking in the dark as Vigilante.

Notification light up your phone screen - it’s the 11th Street Kids groupchat.

Peacemaker: [Hands up emoji]

Economos: So fucking cool.

Vigilante: [Merman emoji]

You wonder what Adrian’s emoji means. You type:

Blackbird: Nice one! x

You tap on the name “Vigilante” and your thumb hovers over his contact details, thinking about texting him. Or at least adding his contact details into your phone. Just in case of emergency. Another notification pops up.

‘Vigilante has added you as a contact’

Vigilante: Hey what’s up B- bird? [Penguin emoji]

You’re relieved he immediately had the same thought. You still haven’t acknowledged what happened last night directly with him. This morning, in the cold light of day you felt ashamed of your one-night stand - not least how it ended. But now as the steam rises in the bathroom and the whisky burns your throat, you’re a little bit giddy that he messaged you. You contemplate for a moment.

Blackbird: Lmao that’s not even close to a blackbird! x

Vigilante: What’s the X for? Is it a British spy code?

Oh. Technically ‘x’ at the end of a text is shorthand for ‘kiss’. Back home almost everyone signs off like that to friends or family. It’s second nature to you when you write a message- words, space, x, send. Clearly, this cultural norm doesn’t translate well. You carefully craft a message to explain it to Adrian, trying to sound nonchalant.

Blackbird: Sounds weird but it means ‘kiss’. It’s just how we end text messages in the UK lol :) x

Well, that was lame.

Vigilante: So you’ve given me 2 kisses since we started this conversation?

Blackbird: Not exactly- It’s just a habit when I send messages to friends x

Vigilante: Oh

Maybe he just isn’t used to being friends with his hookups afterwards? And according to Peacemaker he has plenty- of hookups, not friends - sometimes they even have one-night stands together, with the same woman.

A small stab of jealousy twists in your side at that thought.

Not Peacemaker and Vigilante sharing a woman, God no, but that you’re probably just the latest in a string of casual encounters. After all, he didn’t kiss you this morning when you thought he might, outside the video shop.

Blackbird: I can stop sending them if they’re bothering you?

Vigilante: What would you send to someone who was more than a friend?

A lot of people back home would use ‘xx’ at the end of a text to a boyfriend- but you haven’t had any reason to do that for a while.

Throwing caution to the wind, you type a flirtatious message, delete it, reconsider, take another drink of whisky, type the exact same thing again then hit send. You hold your breath.

Blackbird: Probably nudes :) x Blackbird: Just kidding. Probably more x’s. ‘xx’ rather than ‘x’

It’s been a long time since you flirted with anyone. It makes you want to launch your phone across the room but instead, you stare at the screen in anticipation.

Vigilante: Damn, this is REALLY bad timing but my break is over. I gotta get back to work. Later Birdie.

You catch your reflection in the bathroom mirror- your face falls. Is he blowing me off? Like I did to him at the van this morning? You feel betrayed by your own disappointment but you probably deserve it.

Stepping into the shower, you sigh as the hot steam fills your lungs. Your hair still smells of bonfire smoke and you’re almost sad to wash it away because it reminds you of Adrian’s smoky and citrusy scent. Shampooing your hair, you think about how Adrian curled his hand through it last night when you kissed him.

Ugh - stop it. You simply cannot catch feelings right now.

You press your head to the cool tile on the wall as the water from the tarnished chrome showerhead flows down your back. You need to scrub yourself of any feelings you have for Adrian. Even if he did feel the same way, what would be the point of starting a romantic relationship nearly 5000 miles from home? Or when you work in a job that has you in a different country every month?

The water pressure is surprisingly strong and you’re grateful for it as it soothes your sore back muscles. Yesterday’s mission and the night that followed have left your body exhausted. There’s still a pleasantly dull ache between your legs from last night.

You felt a connection with him like you’d never felt before. Like he was reading your mind. Every thought, every want, every need.

The only thing that has ever come close to it is how well you fight together. It almost seems silly that you haven’t been able to admit that to him today but the sensible voice in your head reminds you that you have a job to do.

Your hand slips down the nape of your neck to your chest and you think about his skin. Pale and covered with scars, though you couldn’t see them all in the darkness of the tent last night. You wanted to look at each one, you wanted to kiss every single scar, cursing whoever had caused the damage to his lean, sculpted body.

You find your favourite lavender soap and as you wash your body from your toes to your head, you take note of your own scars. Several cover both of your legs from the jet crash, one deep one in the meat of your thigh where you were stabbed that one time, another on your forearm from when you were stabbed a different time, and one on your shoulder blade where you were stabbed… again. Perks of the job. But you really need to get better at not being stabbed.

You wonder what he’s doing after this shift and hate that you hope he’s staying safe. He likes to prowl the streets at night looking for criminals and regularly ends up in life-threatening situations but you want him to go straight home - you all have enough to be getting on with, with the butterflies and everything. And if you ever want to get back home and in MI6’s good graces, this mission needs to be a success.

You finish up in the shower and decide you’d better remind him.

Blackbird: Rest up tonight Adrian. We’ve got a big day tomorrow and need you to be awake x

A few hours later at 11pm your phone pings in reply. Having spent the night drinking whisky and watching terrible TV, your stomach twists with excitement at the interruption.

Vigilante: Great! Just need to figure out what we could use instead of duct tape…

A pleasant tingle goes down your spine. He must have finished his shift at Fennel Fields.

Blackbird: Not that kind of big day. We’ve got a lot of video equipment to check x

Vigilante: I only need to patrol the neighbourhood for a few hours. Do you wanna join?

Blackbird: Sure- I can see the headlines now, ‘MI6 linked to string of vigilante murders in Washington.’ x

Vigilante: Awesome! Will I come and pick you up?

Blackbird: No! That was sarcasm Adrian x

Vigilante: Okay - your loss! A team-up would have been SUPER cool FYI. TTYL

Blackbird: Wait! What can I say to convince you not to go out tonight? x

Vigilante: Awwww, are you worried about lil ol’ me, Birdie?

Blackbird: I need you on top of your game tomorrow. Finding the butterflies’ food source is more important than ANYTHING else we’ve got going on right now x

Vigilante: Stopped reading after “I need you”. Admit you need me Birdie and I might stay home tonight [Penguin emoji]

You get up and pace around the room. He’s so resilient even after you ignored him last night and outside the van this morning. You’re relieved he’s flirting again. And you can tell from his messages that all he needs is some reassurance that you’re still interested in him after your stand-offishness this morning.

You pause in front of the mirror at the vanity table, catching a glimpse of your exposed neck and the top of your chest flushed red again. And a familiar warm sensation pools in your lower abdomen as your mind wanders back into Adrian’s tent.

Blackbird: I need you… Blackbird: to see something :) x

Vigilante: Ooookay?

Blackbird: But you need to be somewhere private. Such as your home. Alone. In your bedroom. With the door locked x

Vigilante: I have no idea what’s going on right now

Blackbird: I will message you a special surprise if you promise me you’re home x

Vigilante: WAIT- are you talking about the nudes you mentioned earlier???

Blackbird: Only one way to find out. Prove you’re home, tucked up in bed with a cup of tea and NOT prowling the streets looking for crime x

Vigilante: On my way home RIGHT FUCKING NOW Vigilante: PS what kind of tea should I get?

Blackbird: I’m just joking about the tea x

In the bathroom, you take in your appearance in the giant, circular mirror. You’re wearing a plain white T-shirt and another pair of unexciting black cotton underwear. Looking over your shoulder into the bedroom at your suitcase, you curse yourself for not bringing at least one set of skimpy lingerie. But then again- why would you?

After spending all day in a Kevlar and leather suit, all you want to do is to sink into something soft and comfortable. And, after more than a year of abstinence, you never thought you’d find love in Evergreen, Washington.

A hookup, you correct yourself, you never thought you’d find a hookup in Evergreen.

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head at your Freudian slip. You put your hands on either side of the sink and stare at yourself sternly.

You are not so touch-starved and devoid of self-respect that you’d actually fall for Vigitlane.

Sure, he’s good looking and yes, you have an undeniable connection that you’ve never felt with anyone before but you remind yourself he’s a psychopath. A very enthusiastic and sweet one, certainly, but a literal vigilante murderer nonetheless.

Even so, you sort of want to look cute for the man who, you remind yourself again, is wanted on multiple counts of murder. Christ, what does that say about you?

He called you pretty this morning.

And you just rolled your eyes at him, concerned about what your colleagues would think. When what you really wanted to do was call him pretty too. Grab his stupid, pretty face, straddle his lap and kiss him, bite his lower lip, grind on him, leave love bites all over his neck. Right there in the van. The thought of it makes you feel feverishly hot.

You tie a knot at the back of your white T-shirt, pulling it taught against your body so that your nipples poke through the fabric and your curves are accentuated. You adjust the hips on your underwear so they show off more of your leg. You take a couple of mirror selfies - one with your whisky glass resting subtly on your chest - finger brushing your nipple and one of you sitting on the sink - back to the mirror and looking over your shoulder. Looking over them carefully, you decide you’re pleased- artfully sexy but nothing too wild. You want to give him a tiny little taste to reassure him you like him but no more. You both have work tomorrow morning, after all.

Your phone pings.

Vigilante: I’m home. I wish I’d seen your message before I went to the Starbucks drive-thru.

Blackbird: Lol :) But I’ll need evidence to verify your location x

Another notification. Adrian sends you a photo of himself holding a Starbucks cup- a mirror selfie. He’s got his Vigilante suit on but you can see the mask thrown on the large bed with comfortable-looking burgundy sheets behind him. Ugh, he looks so dreamy with his cute hipster glasses and wavy black hair. His room is very clean but bare- the only decoration seems to be his weapons, at least a dozen guns and several blades displayed on the wall.

Blackbird: Do you sleep in an armoury!? x

Vigilante: What?? I sleep in a bed in my apartment!

You really do need to teach him about sarcasm.

Blackbird: I’m just joking - you DO have a lot of guns in your room x

Vigilante: Oh, the ones in here are just for display- you should totally come over and see the rest!!!! Vigilante: Anything cool in your motel room?

Blackbird: IDK… this mirror is pretty nice x

You wander over to your bed as you flick through the selfies you took. Hesitating, you decide to send him the one of you sitting on the sink.

Vigilante: Did you realise your reflection is visible?

You blink at your screen. Your ass is literally the main focus of the picture.

Blackbird: That was sort of the point Adrian… x

Vigilante: NOICE!!!! In that case, I am SO glad I came home. I would literally never leave home again if you wanted me to.

Fondness for him cascades through you and it makes your cheeks grow hot. He is so whole-heartedly earnest about his thoughts and feelings, it makes you wish you told him how good he looked when he sent you his picture.

Does he know he’s good at getting you flustered over text? Your brows knit together as you remember Chris telling the group about their strings of one-night stands together and horror strikes you.

Blackbird: Adrian, I need you to know that if you show that to anyone I will not hesitate to murder you in cold blood. I’m not one of your women to be shared with Peacemaker.

There's a pause and you watch the three dots moving as Adrian writes his reply.

Vigilante: Okay first of all showing your pics to Peacemaker without consent would be classed as REVENGE PORN which - by the way - is ILLEGAL. I’ve killed people for less!!! Vigilante: Second of all there is no way I would ever break your trust Birdie. You are my second BFF.

Oh no, a pang of guilt. Of course, he wouldn’t do that. Another message pings.

Vigilante: Thirdly you could never murder me because I am a much better marksman AND better in combat AND I know how to disarm you.

You scoff silently. You could definitely beat Vigilante in a fight.

Vigilante: And last of all, you are mine and I would never share you [Merman emoji]

You are mine. Your eyes rake over the black pixels on your screen. Mine. Fuck, why is your heart rate increasing? Warmth creeps in deep in your tummy. You smile and shake your head at his audacity.

Blackbird: Ahem, yours?? x

Vigilante: Yup. At least your pussy is

Blackbird: Hmmmm is that so? x

Vigilante: I’m the only one who can make you cum (and that’s including you btw) I can show you how if you’re nice to me for like 5 seconds.

Blackbird: I’m not sure I know how to be nice x

Vigilante: It was pretty nice of you to send me a pic of your ass… Vigilante: BTW I will delete that pic if you’re worried. Just give me 3-5 minutes with it. I know the drill - burn after jerking.

You laugh silently but his consideration for your situation makes you melt. It makes you want to get on your knees for him to show your appreciation.

But he’s not here so instead you finish the rest of your drink in one quick gulp, lift the bottom of your shirt up, exposing your tits, snap another mirror selfie and hit send.

Blackbird: Don’t delete this one x

Vigilante: Fuck, Birdie you have the most perfect tits I have ever seen. I mean it. Vigilante: Even if I do delete it, this pic is now uploaded permanently into my spank bank.

Blackbird: Is this all you needed to keep you off the streets? Just a little peek of me? x

Vigilante: YUP. And I am so fucking turned on right now. I wish you were here.

Blackbird: Show me x

Ping. Another picture. This time you need to sit down on the edge of the bathtub to steady yourself.

It’s just his body - he’s still wearing his Vigilante suit but a familiarly shaped hard bulge protrudes against the fabric. Your breath hitches and you can feel the steady beat of your heart pounding in your chest. You’re a bundle of nerves and you want to see more. Swallowing thickly you type:

Blackbird: You look v sexy in your suit <3 x

Vigilante: Birdie? Is that an actual compliment?! I think it’s the first nice thing you’ve ever said to me.

You’re no good at expressing your feelings but he needs to know how ridiculously hot he looks in his suit. A vivid image flashes through your mind of a masked vigilante breaking into your motel room, holding you down and covering your mouth while he fucks you. Fuck, the imaginary scene nearly burns a hole through you as you wander back to the bed.

Blackbird: Have you ever had sex in your mask? x

Vigilante: I basically only have sex in my mask. Secret identity is kind of a bummer.

Except for last night. Though you did burst into his tent and catch him off guard. But how does he…

Blackbird: How do you kiss? Or…do anything else? x

Vigilante: Kissing, cuddling, eating pussy - three things I can’t do as Vigilante. You were the best thing I’ve tasted in a LONG time.

You sit down on the edge of the bed and cross your legs, trying to stop yourself from squirming. The more turned on he makes you, the more reckless you become. In just a few texts you go from a tough superhero intelligence officer with a reputation to protect to a simpering mess with no regard for professionalism.

Blackbird: You are so fucking good at eating me out Adrian. I wish you were here x

Vigilante: You’re gonna make me jizz in my pants if you keep saying stuff like that.

Blackbird: Hey not yet- I have more to show you x

Vigilante: Fuck. Seeing you talk like this makes me wish I could hear you in person.

Blackbird: You wouldn’t like me if I could talk again. People said I was very unkind - to put it mildly x

Vigilante: HAHA as if I can’t tell what all those eye rolls mean. You’re such a meanie but you LIKE me.

Everything just bounces off of Adrian. Every cutting glance from you or dismissive comment from Harcourt. Even the time Peacemaker just let Goff torture him. The world is literally ending and Adrian is just riding the wave and enjoying being included in this mission. You wish you could take a leaf out his book and be less serious in the face of an alien invasion.

You hold your phone to your chest and lie back on the crisp white linen bed sheets. Staring at the ceiling you wonder what it would be like to be here with Adrian, in an actual bed rather than in a sleeping bag. Both uninjured and free to take your time, not worrying about other people catching you.

You take your T-shirt off completely this time. You snap a selfie with you laid back on the bed and send it to him.

The phone starts ringing immediately.

‘Vigilante is requesting video chat’

Here goes nothing. You accept.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” He drags a hand from over his eyes down his face. You hold the phone still above you. “I just had to check if you were real, Birdie. For a second I thought ‘What if last night was an insanely realistic wet dream and now I’m speaking to a snarky but sexy AI bot’. But you are real.”

From what you can see on the screen, he’s shirtless too. As he stretches out getting comfortable on his bed, one hand behind his head, you can appreciate his broad shoulders and chest. A flicker of animalistic urge to bite the exposed underside of his arm leaps through you.

You bring up the keyboard.

Blackbird: I’m glad last night wasn’t just a dream either x

You watch his face as he reads your words pop up on his screen, blue light reflecting on his glasses. He lights up with a wide smile and it makes your heart leap. You tilt the camera down and gently run your fingers up and down your exposed stomach and tits, your fingertips gently tickling your skin. You hear his breath catch in his throat. You move the phone camera back up to your face and slowly, deliberately suck your fingers and move them inside your underwear to start gently circling your clit.

Your phone remains pointed at your face so he can watch you sink back into the soft pillows and close your eyes as your movements pick up the pace.

“L- let me see. Please.” he chokes. You shake your head, the corners of your mouth turning upwards in a smirk. You open your eyes and nod towards him. You first.

He removes his hand from behind his head and flips to the back-facing camera so it’s almost like you’re watching from his point of view. He unzips his black kevlar-weave trousers and tugs down his boxers. His cock is hard already. You swallow thickly- you forgot how big he was. Taking it in his hand, he slowly jerks himself up and down.

How did all of that fit in you? You need to inhale and exhale deeply, steadying yourself. You remember the stretching feeling as he slowly entered you, pressing his forehead against yours and checking you were okay. Oh fuck, the memory makes you speed your fingers up. You move the camera down your body so Adrian can see your fingers working in your underwear.

“Hold on a sec.”

He pauses what he’s doing and urgently takes off the bottom half of his Vigilante suit. He recentres the camera and lets you see him now fully naked. You can see the strong outline of the muscles on his thighs and decide you’d quite like to bite them too.

“Fuck, I wish you were here. You felt so fucking good last night, the way you took all of my dick in that tent like such a good girl for me.”

You writhe back into the pillows as pleasure begins to wash over you.

“Please… show me how you do it baby. Let me see that perfect pussy again.”

It’s too much, his words make you let out a small moan and - CRACK. The sound of glass breaking. You jump in fright. Fuck! The alarm clock on the motel bedside table is shattered in pieces.

“Woah, are you okay?” Adrian returns to the front-facing camera and adjusts his glasses.

You nod and show him the broken alarm clock. You check for any pieces that might have landed on the bed and he waits patiently.

“Hey at least it wasn’t your phone!” he says enthusiastically. You frown. You should have realised something like this would happen. It’s too dangerous to do this - especially on your own. “C’mon Birdie, it’s okay… I personally think it’s really hot that you could kill both of us by cumming. As far as powers go, you’ve gotta admit that’s pretty OP.”

You give him an embarrassed smile. “Is there somewhere you can balance your phone so you have both hands free?”

You carefully place your phone against the lamp on the bedside table and kneel on the bed in front of it. His eyes look you over from your head to where your knees connect with the mattress.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful,” You blush hot red again and he smiles reassuringly “I can’t believe I get to see you like this.” He is being so sweet and it’s killing you. Last night he was teasing you so much that you’re actually beginning to wonder if he was just getting back at you for being so rude to him the past few weeks.

You feel exposed, almost the full length of your body is on display on your video tile. The thought of him seeing all of you out so brazenly makes the hairs on your arms stand up. You’re brave in the field but being so openly vulnerable takes a different kind of boldness you don’t get to exercise often.

Heart pounding in your chest, you slip your underwear off and throw them aside. That’s it, nowhere and nothing to hide now. He groans and angles his phone down his body so you can see him stroking his cock, a clear bead of precum leaks from the tip from it.

You move your hands over your body and watch his eyes follow them. You pinch your nipples and move one hand down to your clit again. “Wait, Birdie, do exactly as I say,” he interrupts “We don’t want you sending a sonic boom through to Harcourt’s room this time.” You bite your lip and nod slowly, it would be embarrassing to say the least, having to explain why the wall between your rooms was rubble if something did go wrong.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” It’s forward, direct but he says it with such confidence that you don’t even think twice about doing so, obediently. It reminds you of the way he effortlessly relays instructions at you in combat. “Now grab that pillow… lay your head on it and put your other hand down between your knees.” You feel your insides buzzing as you lie, literally face-down ass-up, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

“Now use that hand to touch your clit for me.” This is obscene, you think but you do it anyway, your head on one side so you can look at Adrian on your phone. He drags his hand up and down the length of himself more slowly than before, taking his time and enjoying the scene in front of him.

“When you start to get close you can turn your head into your pillow and let it out,” he says, watching your figure, side-on as your walls start to clench, begging to be filled. You allow yourself to test it out quietly, biting down on the linen and polyester and letting a small cry out. It vibrates but nothing else happens. You hear him let out a small whimper at the sight of you biting into your pillow. “Fuck, Birdie, have you ever thought about OnlyFans? I’d subscribe.”

The jape unlocks something in your brain. Shyness quickly disappearing, you turn your body another 90 degrees so that he’s looking at you directly from behind. You open up your knees wider and adjust the pillow so you can lie your head back down. All he’ll be able to see is your spread legs, ass and soaking wet cunt. Your fingers reach down to stroke your wet folds.

“Hooooooly fuck- that view. Keep doing that. No, wait- just your clit. I want to see your pussy leaking for me.”

Your muffled whine is impatient. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are for him but you can tell from the way his breathing is getting quicker that he’s getting close, just from looking at you like this.

“Hey, look at me Birdie.”

You turn your head and look past the side of your body, and see him on the carefully balanced phone screen.

“You know what you are, right?”

You bite your lip. I’m a slut, I’m a fucking slut touching myself on camera for you, Adrian.

“You’re mine. And that beautiful pussy belongs to me.”

Oh. It’s too. Fucking. Much. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stop your fingers as they bury deep inside you curling up and tapping a frantic rhythm while the heel of your hand puts delicious pressure on your clit.

You can’t see him anymore but he makes sure to narrate it for you. “That’s it. Think about me fucking you as you’re doing it, B.” You hear the wet slick of his own hand speeding up too.

You close your eyes and as you curl your fingers inside yourself, you imagine Adrian’s huge cock filling you up. The way he’d grab your hips, smack your ass and bite your shoulder as he thrusted deep inside you.

“I love this angle. Keep doing that for me. Fuck, you look amazing like this.”

Letting out another sigh into your pillow, you feel the swell coming, feeling immense satisfaction that Adrian is watching you on his phone and furiously pleasuring himself, he too imagining that he was pounding into you deep from behind.

“You’re doing s-so good, baby. Such - such a good girl.” he stutters and inhales sharply.

In response you bounce your hips a little, in sync with your fingers, wishing you were backing up and gyrating into his hips. You take another peek at your screen to see his head leaning back and his Adam's apple moving as he swallows and clenches his jaw. He looks back at the screen and catches your eye “So… f-fucking… hot.” he pants. You feel another jolt of searing heat between your legs. Your pussy desperately clenches around your fingers, wishing it was his cock.

“Say my name when you cum for me. Come on, you can do it. Into the pillow.”

The pillow envelopes your face just in time for you to moan his name.

The whole bed shakes violently this time. You tumble straight into your release as you continue to whimper. It’s hot and wet and desperate, heat radiates from your centre, making your knees tremble weakly as the orgasm rips through you.

“I’m gonna- I’m - fuuuuck.” Adrian groans and you move your head again to watch him finish. His eyes squeeze shut and he shudders, thick ropes of cum shooting out onto his chest and stomach.

You lie still for a few more moments, your leaking entrance still twitching and exposed to the camera while you eventually catch your breath. You crawl around to grab your phone and roll onto your back, holding the screen above you.

You both stare at each other, flushed and glowing with sweat. Adrian adjusts his glasses, wipes himself off with a towel and lies on his side, one arm propping his head up. You think it would be very comfy to nuzzle into the crook of his neck right now. Maybe you’d trace your fingers over his scars and listen to him talk about how he got each one.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. And trust me, I’ve watched a lot of stuff.”

You smile in a self-satisfied sort of way and pull up the keyboard.

Blackbird: I like seeing you too. And hearing you talk to me x

“Okay, so we need to do this again in person next time.”

Blackbird: I’d like that x

“And can you admit you like me yet?”

You give him an indifferent jerk of the head but he reads through you and grins triumphantly.

Blackbird: Okay I DO like you Adrian. But I’m just not sure if we should be doing this at all x

“I get it if you’re embarrassed to be with me - we don’t have to tell the rest of the team.”

You shake your head fervently. Relief washes over his face.

Blackbird: It’s not that… I can’t let myself fall for someone when I need to leave the country right after this mission x

You also don’t trust Amanda Waller or MI6 right now and don’t want to give them any personal leverage. But you can’t put that anywhere in writing. Even in an encrypted message to Adrian. It’d be too dangerous for both of you.

“Wait - are you saying you’re falling for me?”

You freeze- your mouth opens stupidly as you reread your last message. Shit.

“Because Birdie I fell for you the first time I saw your burst someone’s head open with your sonic scream. You’re the hottest, most badass person I’ve ever met. And if you feel even sort of the same way, it would be stupid to ignore it- right?”

Blackbird: I think it’s stupid to even discuss it. We shouldn’t get attached when I live on another continent x

“Yeah but you’ll only live there if you actually survive!” he says with newfound enthusiasm “There’s like a really high chance we’ll both die pretty soon.”

Blackbird: And if we’re both fortunate enough to live? x

“Eh,” he shrugs “Sounds like a problem for future us to worry about. No point dwelling on hypotheticals.”

You wrinkle your nose but butterflies dance in your tummy with excitement. Okay, we’re doing this…. and if we both live long enough for me to go home, we can call it a summer fling and move on.

Blackbird: Fuck it. If we’re gonna die we might as well hook up a few more times… :) x

Adrian rolls onto his back and punches the air “Go out with a bang. Literally.” he pauses “Are you going to start putting two x’s at the end of your texts to me now?”

You pull up your keyboard.

Blackbird: Yes xxxxx

Chapter 3: The Spy Who Came Out in the Cold

#adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x you #vigilante #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x reader #vigilante x you #freddie stroma #peacemaker #fanfic #smut #female reader #x reader

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kpopgirlbtssvt · 10 months ago

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Y’allllll I’m so hyperfixating on Adrian Chase/Vigilante again!!! Does anyone know of any blogs that are still actively writing for him/taking requests for him?🤧🤧🤧

#vigilante #vigilante x reader #peacemaker #adrian chase #adrian chase x y/n #Adrian x reader #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x you #vigilante x you #peacemaker dc #peacemaker fanfic #peacemaker fic #11th street kids #freddie stroma #vigilante Adrian Chase #dc #fanfic #x reader #requests

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mrshargreeves · 5 months ago

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they need to bring back peacemaker all the shit for freddie stroma is so old now 😭

#i miss my wife tails #come back pls #my baby girl #freddie stroma #jake martin #adrian chase #h.g. wells #cormac mclaggen #prince friedrich #ron ebsen #adam cromwell #luke morgan #bring him back #i miss him so much #pls make more content for freddie stroma #any fanfic recs are appreciated

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evabellasworld · 1 year ago

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First Meeting at Fennel Fields

AO3 Link ——————————————————————————————

Pairing: Adrian Chase x Agender!OC (Rue Iqbal)

Rating: 13+

Summary:

Rue Iqbal, who recently moved to the town of Evergreen, stopped by at Fennel Fields to enjoy a meal when they made a potential romantic connection with the cute busboy, Adrian Chase.

A/N: This is part 1 of the series, Star Blossom. Stay tuned for part 2

It was a cold, late afternoon, with light gray clouds and a glint of sunlight in the sky. Driving in a silver car, Rue Iqbal admired the quaint town of Evergreen, with rows of mom-and-pop shops attached together and small trees and shrubs planted in every corner of the sidewalks, their light green leaves slowly fading into dark orange, reflecting the beginning of the autumn season. Their face was drenched with sweat and makeup and their ribbons loose from both sides of their curly hair. Wearing a light blue knitted vest with a slightly crumpled shirt and flared midi skirt, their Mary Jane shoes that Rue polished early in the morning had lost its shine, along with their white stockings that turned gray.

Despite their favorite song, La Vie En Rose, playing on the radio, Rue’s head was throbbing with slight pain and their right eye felt heavy, their left eye covered with eyepatch. But with their last meal after their mid-afternoon prayer, Rue’s stomach rumbled for hours, forcing them to drive to a nearby restaurant and eat as much as their heart desired. If they had the option, they craved a large paratha with thick, spicy mutton curry and a side of pakoras, just like how their paternal grandmother made them years ago.

Unfortunately, grandmother isn’t here to cook their favorite food, let alone comfort their heavy heart and dried tears. They’re on their own, in a new place, without anyone by their side.

Parking their car in front of a restaurant called Fennel Fields, Rue stared at their reflection in their rearview and touched up on their makeup and hair, before spraying an ocean-scented perfume on their bare neck. Taking a deep breath, they emerged from their vehicle with their light blue handbag and approached the restaurant their co-workers raved about earlier. The interior of the restaurant was painted with warm yellow that harmonized with the mild lighting and toasty surroundings, and the scent of Bolognese sauce and fresh rosemary welcomed the only customer.

All the seats were vacant, with saucers and a set of forks and knives placed on top of serviettes. Rue noticed that there were only a few staff on duty, and focused their gaze towards the round clock hanging in the middle, which was half-past five. As Rue glanced at the freshly mopped wooden floor, the restaurant hostess approached them with a warm smile on her face and a menu in her hands.

“Welcome to Fennel Fields,” she greeted. “Are you here to dine in or takeout?”

“I’m here to dine-in,” they replied in a cordial manner.

“Alright, miss, right this way,” she said, as she led them to their seat, which was a table with only two chairs and a painting of a willow tree on their right.

“Thank you,” Rue said, as they sat down and hung their handbag behind them.

“You’re welcome, miss,” she responded, handing them the menu. “Feel free to take your time to browse through the menu and ring the bell once you’re ready to order.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” they said, browsing through the menu, hoping the restaurant had options for vegans and vegetarians, just like what their co-workers claimed. They were right‌, because there is a vegan section on the menu, which is completely plant-based. Five minutes later, Rue rang the bell and a waitress approached her table, with a notebook in her hands.

“I’ll have a Caprese salad with a strawberry Italian soda,” Rue stated, as the waitress wrote it down on their notebook.

“Will that be all?” she asked. “A Caprese salad with a strawberry Italian soda?”

“That will be all,” they affirmed, handing her the menu. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem, miss.”

As the waitress left, Rue leaned against their seat and as they listened to the tranquil music in the background and turned to a simple willow tree painting on their right, sinking deep into their thoughts. They couldn’t help noticing the yellowish-greenish colors that were used for the leaves, along with the shadow that casts underneath it with light gray colors. Rue remembered the willow tree in the park one sunny day, where they used to sit whenever they felt like their burdens were too heavy for them to carry on their back and weeped without shame and guilt from people around them. With orange butterflies fluttering and the scent of nectars in the air, it was the perfect way to feel home.

But they weren’t home anymore. They’re in Evergreen, where there’s no sight of enormous skyscrapers and the mysterious green forest loomed at the edge of the town.

Before delving further into the new town, the waitress returned with their Caprese salad and a glass of strawberry Italian soda, bringing them back into the present. Rue thanked the waitress and glanced at their meal, which consists of fresh tomato slices, mozzarella cheese, and basil leaves, drizzled with olive oil and a hint of black pepper. It may not be vegan, but last they checked, mozzarella cheese did not contain rennet, hence, it was safe for them to eat. As they took a bite of their meal, they tasted the tanginess of the tomato and mozzarella slices mixed together with the pungent taste of basil. With the balancing flavor of the olive oil and black pepper, Rue’s eyes widened as they glanced at their meal, taking another bite and stuffing it in their mouth, satisfying their hunger.

They then took a sip of their strawberry Italian soda with a red-striped straw, and sighed in relief at the sweet taste of the fresh strawberries that were mixed with the bubbly club soda and the cooling ice cube that refreshed their body, despite the cold mist fogging the restaurant’s window. Despite the fog, however, Rue pictured the golden leaf that blew towards their bedroom window early in the morning, resembling the ones that were scattered near the willow tree. The street sweeper usually piled them up into a mini mountain, and Rue used to jump towards the pile and let the leaves rain towards their giggling face, until the sweeper showed up and cursed at them.

That was years ago when they were still in high school. As their mind flies towards their past, they did not notice the busboy approaching their table, who had been admiring their beauty since the moment they stepped foot into Fennel Fields.

“Excuse me, miss,” a busboy asked, carrying a jug of strawberry Italian soda. “Do you want a refill of your drink?”

Rue focused their attention towards the busboy who was standing in front of them and traced their eyes from his head to his toned forearms, all the way to his leather black shoes, which looked almost worn out. Wearing a red cap with matching shirt and a beige apron, his bespectacled eyes reminded Rue of a forest at night, which complimented with his porcelain skin and dimpled smile. Rue could only sip their soda as they admired the handsome busboy sitting in front of them, who resembled one of those main leads in a Korean drama, except for the fact that he was clearly a white man whose age they could not guess. But if they had to bet, the busboy looked like he was either in his late 20s or in his early 30s, though not more than 31.

Their eyes then moved towards his name tag on his apron before nodding in response. “I would love that, Adrian, thank you.”

He rapidly blinked at Rue’s response, gripping on the jug’s handle. “How did you know my name?”

“It’s on your name tag,” they pointed out, much to his relief.

“That makes sense,” he chuckled, as he poured their drink into their glass. “Though it feels weird that a customer would refer to a busboy or a busgirl or a busser by their names, since we mostly do the dirty work that the waiters don’t dare.”

“Yeah, bussers have to carry stacks of dirty dishes and refill drinks, which is really tiring. Like, I remember carrying 15 dirty dishes from one table and both my arms and legs were super sore.”

“Wait, you were a busser as well?”

“Yeah, it was my first job back in high school. Whenever school finished, I worked from around 4 p.m. to 11 p.m., and then woke up for school at 6, and then the pattern repeated.”

“I know that feeling,” he empathized with their experience as he leaned closer to their ears to whisper. “Not to mention you’re underpaid, a lot.”

Rue’s eyes widened as Adrian whispered in her ears, though they understood that he could not say it openly at his workplace since it might get him fired, or worse. Speaking of the workplace, Rue realized that they may have been taking loads of Adrian’s time, since he was still on duty right now.

“You should head back to work,” they reminded him. “I don’t think your boss would be happy to see you mingling with a customer.”

“Please, you’re the only one here,” he snorted, as he took a seat and placed the jug on the table, facing Rue. “Besides, I was really bored and there’s nothing much I can do anyway, aside from wiping the table, which I’ve done that for like a hundred times.”

Rue burst into laughter. “You talk to customers when you’re bored?”

“Nah, I usually would be sitting in the back and listening to music, but since you’re here all alone, I thought you could use some company anyway, since you look lonely and all.”

“I appreciate that,” they replied. “So how long have you worked here?”

“Pretty long, I guess,” he shrugged, looking upwards. “Probably around a year or two. Or maybe three. I don’t know. I’m bad at math. Anyway, let’s talk about you. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a high school chemistry teacher. Today’s my first day of teaching at Evergreen High School. Ever heard of it?”

“Oh my gosh, yes, of course I heard of it. I used to go there, along with my older brother and my best friend, who’s close with my older brother,” his eyes brightened, reminiscing his past to Rue. “If I could remember, Mr. White was my chemistry teacher, until he got killed by a drug lord, which I’m not sure how to feel, since chemistry isn’t my favorite subject and also the fact that I zoned out at every one of his classes.”

“So you and your older brother and your best friend, who’s close with your older brother, were alumni of that school?” they recapped, feeling goosebumps on their skin on Mr. White’s death. “Well, that explains why the superintendent hired me immediately after the interview.”

“I’m not surprised,” he shrugged. “A lot of teachers are leaving the profession, which I don’t blame them, since the pay is low and students can be dickheads sometimes. Are your students a bunch of dickheads?”

“So far, they seemed fine,” they laughed with amusement. “Though it’s too early to judge, since it’s only the first day.”

“That’s totally understandable,” Adrian let out a pleasant laugh, before proceeding to dig through their history. “So if you don’t mind me asking, where are you from, cause I’ve never seen you around town before, so yeah…”

“Well, I was born and raised in Malaysia, but I came to America when I was fourteen,” they explained, releasing a shallow sigh. “I lived in Kane City for eight years, which was famous for their willow trees, until I decided to move to Evergreen, where I’ve only been here for two days.”

“That’s a lot of moving,” he remarked. “So you must be a city girl, right?”

Rue chuckled in response, much to his confusion. “Did I say anything wrong?”

“I’m not sure how to say this, but I’m not a girl,” they clarified, pressing their hands together. “I’m actually agender, which means I don’t identify with any gender at all. Basically, I’m genderless, so yeah…”

“I am so sorry about that,” he babbled, aghast at his own behavior. “I should have asked before assuming your gender, which I did, and now I think I made things awkward between us.”

“No worries about that,” Rue assured him. “I get that a lot.”

“It’s still not an excuse to misgender you, though,” he looked down on the table, avoiding their eyes, before clearing his throat. “Anyway, to make things less awkward, what pronouns do you use?”

“I go by they, them, ze and zir,” they answered. ‘What about you? What pronouns do you go by?”

“I go by he and him pronouns, and I’m also a cis male, just to clear up the confusion between the both of us.”

“Alright, looks like we’ve cleared up the air,” they clapped their hands once. “So, how long did you stay in Evergreen?”

“Since I was born, which was practically my whole life,” he answered, gazing at Rue’s right eye. “I never left Evergreen, and I don’t think I ever will. I mean, I know it can be boring and all, with nothing much happening in this town, except for the fact that we were almost invaded by a bunch of butterflies, which I obviously have nothing to do with, but otherwise, there’s nothing much here except for a few crimes here and there.”

“Honestly, I would rather be almost invaded by a bunch of butterflies than to deal with corrupt cops and some billionaire who tried to poison our rivers,” Rue chortled. “Besides, butterflies are beneficial to the ecosystem since they contribute to our food production.”

“Yeah, of course,” he laughed nervously, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “Those butterflies are definitely beneficial to the ecosystem, alright. Anyway, let’s talk about your home country, Malaysia, since I’ve never heard about it before, so yeah, what’s it like down there?”

“From what I remembered, I would hang out at the esplanade with my friends while admiring the ocean up close, along with the blue sky above. I also remembered the alleyways with artworks of children riding on the bicycle and playing on the swing. I also remembered enjoying swimming in the river near my grandparent’s house and the water would be freezing cold, despite the immense heat outside. Oh, there’s also a rice field nearby as well, and it’s a beautiful sight when it’s being harvested.”

“It sounded like paradise.”

“It did, actually,” they smiled sadly. “If only I could stay there forever.”

“Do you miss your home country?”

“Yeah, I do miss Malaysia a lot,” they sighed. “I could come back there, but I’m not sure whether I would recognize it since everything changed for the past eight years.”

“Well, you know what they say, if you’ve been away from home for too long, you end up becoming a foreigner when you return home.”

Rue nodded as they stared distantly at their drink, contemplating Adrian’s words. Their memories of their eight years old self enjoying a strawberry ice ball replayed in their mind like a rolling film camera. They were sitting all alone in an open-air shop and counted every trishaw that rode past them on the quiet streets. The shopkeeper knew their parents well. Whenever Rue came to his shop, he always smiled and talked to them in their native language. Rue would love to go back to those moments, but they no longer live there anymore, nor speak their native language that their parents and teachers from her old school had taught. Even if they go back, they would no longer be the same little girl that everyone recognized.

“Everything alright, Rue?” Adrian interrupted their thoughts, his brows wrinkled. “You seemed sad.”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” they insisted, grinning from ear-to-ear. “I was just taking a trip down to memory lane, that’s all.”

“Is it something I said, cause if it is, I’m really sorry about that.”

Rue shook their head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Adrian. It’s just that I realized that I forgot how to speak Malay, which I used to be super fluent along with English, but since coming here, I could only converse in English, Japanese and Korean, which is embarrassing, cause I made an effort to learn Japanese and Korean but somehow I didn’t do the same with Malay, which was the language my parents and my grandparents and the rest of my ancestors have spoken, even during the colonial eras. So yeah, you’re right. If I returned to Malaysia, I’ll feel more like an American tourist instead of a Malaysian who returned home.”

Adrian can’t imagine losing the ability to speak his native tongue, but listening to Rue’s cries on forgetting the language that their ancestors have spoken made his heart ache. They would insist that everything seemed fine, but he noticed their suppression of tears through their right eye, since the other eyes were covered with an eye patch. He wondered how they lost half of their sight in the first place, though it’s not the right time to ask about it.

“It must be painful forgetting a language you used to be fluent in,” he empathized in a softer tone. “And I’m sure it hurts to feel disconnected from your home country and its culture. But I’m confident that it is never too late to re-learn the Malay language and reconnect with your culture. It definitely won’t be easy, but I’m sure it will be a healing journey for you and your family, if you’re still in touch with them, of course. Are you still in touch with your family?.”

“Unfortunately, no, but you’re still right,” they smiled at Adrian. “It’s never too late to re-learn the Malay language and reconnect with my culture. After all, we persevered through the colonial era and the Japanese occupation during World War II, so I don’t think I’ll give up anytime soon.”

“That’s the spirit,” he cheered, as he noticed their blue handbag hanging on the chair. “Is that a Kate Spade you got there?”

“How did you know?” they gasped, grabbing their handbag.

“It’s the leather for me, cause it’s made of crossgrain calf leather, which is the least expensive kind of leather and also more durable than the regular soft leather, perfect for carrying loads of stuff like files and books, since that’s what teachers usually carry all the time.”

Rue raised their eyebrows as they leaned towards him while still clutching on their handbag. “You have such eyes for details. Does anyone ever tell you that?”

“No, people just call me stupid and clueless, which is actually true, since I can’t tell who’s being sarcastic and I also don’t feel emotions like people do.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Adrian shook his head. “No, it’s true. People always tell me that I’m dumb and that I talk too much, which is also true as well.”

Rue blinked at his statement, wondering whether he was pulling their leg. Surely, a man who accurately guessed the brand of their handbag would not be stupid, clueless, and dumb. As for the emotion part, Adrian makes them feel like they’re talking to a close friend that they’ve known for years instead of a stranger they just met an hour ago.

“What makes you think that you’re stupid and clueless?” they asked, tilting their head to their right.

“Well, one time, I noticed my best friend was really occupied with work and all, so I decided to help him do his laundry. Unfortunately, I may have used the wrong detergent, so his clothes pretty much turned pink. Understandably, he got mad and he wouldn’t allow me in his trailer for two weeks, so yeah.”

Rue burst out laughing that they almost choked on their saliva, before clearing their throat and straightening their posture. “I don’t think I can consider you being stupid, since I also accidentally turned one of my white dresses pink. But honestly, at least I could wear that dress, since most of my clothes are blue and white.”

“I threw my best friend's phone out of the car, thinking it was trackable, but his dad found him anyway because of his helmet. I realize now that it was a dumb thing to do.”

“Wait, helmets are trackable?” Rue bit their cheeks in thought.

“Well, my best friend’s helmet was trackable since his dad specially built it, and his dad is a racist nutjob‌, which you shouldn’t worry about, since he’s dead and I definitely have no part in his death, so yeah.”

“Okay then, that’s good to know,” Rue nodded. “So, you mentioned you have an older brother, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” he replied with a grin. “His name is Gut, and he’s like way older than me, like 13 years older, and he was alright. We only see each other during the holidays, since he has his own life and all.”

“Huh, it must be nice having a big brother. How about the rest of your family? Are you close with them as well?”

“Kind of, I mean, I only see them during the holidays, so yeah, it’s all good, I guess.”

Rue hummed in agreement as they stole a quick glance of the time. It was already 6.30 p.m. It dawned on them just how swiftly the past hour and a half had flown by, their conversation flowing seamlessly and effortlessly. Yet, Rue was hit with their most important part of their everyday obligations, which was their daily prayers. In 20 minutes, their next prayer would start, though they can’t bear the weight of leaving Adrian all alone, despite their short but captivating connection they had shared earlier.

Letting out a resigned sigh, Rue took out a piece of a blue memo pad and a Sharpie from their handbag, puzzling Adrian with their unexpected action.

“Everything okay, Rue?”

“I would love to stay and chat with you longer, but I just realized that my next prayer starts in 20 minutes, which I can’t be late to, so will it be okay if I give you my phone number instead?

Adrian’s eyes sparkled as Rue handed him their phone number on a blue memo pad, which had an ocean scent attached to it. It’s not every day a pretty person like Rue would give their phone number to him. He felt like floating in the air as angels surrounded him with their soulful opera.

“Of course you can,” he grinned, folding the piece of paper inside his pocket. “I would definitely call you, after you’re done with your prayers. By the way, what time is your last prayer, cause I don’t want to disturb you while praying, you know.”

“You can call me at 9,” they suggested, getting up from their seat. “I’ll be done by then.”

“Sure thing, I’ll definitely call you at 9,” he got up with them. “I can’t wait to continue our conversations together.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Rue winked, before realizing that they only had one eye, prompting them to turn around and ignore his soft laugh behind them. “Just don’t be late.”

“See you soon, Rue,” Adrian waved as he watched them leave Fennel Fields. Looking down at the phone number that they gave earlier, he paced out of the restaurant through the back door and performed his signature dance move at the empty alleyway, not giving a fuck whether his co-workers were staring at him weirdly.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x oc #freddie stroma #vigilante x oc #peacemaker hbo max #agender oc #dc fanfic #vigilante fanfiction #adrian chase fanfiction #peacemaker #vigilante #adrian chase imagine

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pepethefrog89 · 2 years ago

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It's been a while but I'm once again back on my bullshit (obsessing over fictional characters again)

#Thinking about writing fanfic for the peacemaker series but idk #adrian chase #vigilante #peacemaker #peacemaker hbo max #peacemaker series #max talks #vigilante peacemaker #peacemaker vigilante #freddie stroma

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multifandomfanficss · 1 year ago

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Stuck With You

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: When the team sticks their newest member with Vigilante, everyone feels bad for you, but you’re grateful to have him around when you run into something from your past and lose your cool.

Warnings: panic attacks, human experimentation, referenced child abuse

A/N: I found a couple lines of dialogue in my drafts that I never did anything with and I had the writing bug today so I decided to finally make something with it! I’ll crosspost it on my AO3 adriansglasses as well. Hope you enjoy!

“(L/N), you’re with Vigilante.” Harcourt says, at the beginning of the meeting.

“You’re really gonna stick the newest person with that psycho?” John asks.

“You don’t need to be mean to Adrian just because he’s not here.” Leota starts.

“I would say it to his face too. He’d probably just laugh and call me his 4th best friend.” John retorts.

You hadn’t been with the team for long. This was your first mission with them. After a mission gone too out of control, Waller sent you to the middle of nowhere Evergreen, Washington. You thought she’d sent you here because the environment would be less hectic, but the longer you’re there, the more you realize she probably sent you here because everyone on this team is either highly traumatized or in need of more experience. She was trying to put the training wheels back on. From what you’d been told by the team’s top conspiracy theorist, Christopher Smith, this team was originally supposed to be an expendable scapegoat, but they ended up saving the world. You had no idea what to believe at this point.

“What’s up with Vigilante?” You ask, wondering why this was all such a hot topic. You hadn’t known him for long. He seemed a little odd, but overall fine. If you were being honest you actually kind of liked him. He was sweet and funny, often without trying. There was this comforting air about him and you didn’t really know why. He was a good fighter and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he was at least a little bit cute.

“He’s a little…” Chris started moving his finger in a circular motion, trying to insinuate that Adrian was crazy.

“He can’t be that bad.” You smile.

Suddenly Adrian comes running into the old video store tripping over one of his shin guards that wasn’t on properly. He sits down and fastens it.

“Sorry I’m late, guys. They kept me late at the restaurant and then when I was trying to put on my suit in the car I accidentally ran a red light and usually I would kill somebody for that, but I mean I think the more important thing is that I didn’t run over the old lady crossing the street! She was totally fine and I know she’s alive because she screamed at me…I’ve never seen an old lady use to many swear words. It was kind of awesome! Anyway what did I miss?”

“You put on your suit while driving?” Leota asks.

“Yup.” He gives a straight face nod. Adrian often had a way about him, as if what he was thinking should be obvious to other people, when in fact, it was not obvious to most people most of the time.

“You amaze me.” Harcourt says, sarcastically.

“Thank you.” Adrian smiles, not catching her sarcasm.

She rolls her eyes, sighing.

———————————————————————

Later on that night you and Adrian found yourselves walking through a series of tunnels.

“John, I think we might be lost.” You spoke into your coms, hoping he can help you from the van.

“I can’t even hear you in my earpiece and I’m right next to you. I think we lost the signal.” Adrian walks in silence for a few seconds before adding, “I’m sorry you got stuck with me.” He looks at the ground, sad.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know they stuck you with me. Nobody ever really chooses to be my partner.” He lightly kicks a rock, pretending not to be bothered.

“They did pair us up, but that doesn’t mean I was disappointed.” You smile.

“Really? Why would you want me?”

“Well first of all, you’re a great fighter. You were also the first person to attempt to be my friend. I’d trust you in the field over anyone.”

“Really?” You can hear the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah.” You let out a soft giggle. “Why are you so surprised that I like you?”

“Usually everyone just tells me to shut up or fuck off.”

“Well I’m not everyone.” You nudge him playfully as you walk.

Soon you come upon a door. It’s a little rusted, but Adrian shoots the lock off and you’re able to break in.

“What is this place?” He asks.

As soon as you walk inside you see the tubes, the files, the devices, the tables, the symbols. You know exactly what this is. This is an old facility for the for the group that made you leave your old job, the mission that ruined your life. You see files on the table, files no doubt full of details on the children they were experimenting on. The group would take orphaned children or children who were abandoned and unwanted, kids who had no one to protect them, and they would experiment on them. They were human trials to try to find new ways of making superheroes. This must have been one of their old abandoned facilities. Despite the lab being inactive, just the sight of it was still enough to send you into a spiral.

Your heart starts beating rapidly as you grow dizzy. You look down at your shaking hands. You’re starting to lose control of your breathing.

“I- I can’t-“ You walk backwards out of the room, starting to hyperventilate.

“Woah. Hey, what’s going on? Are you having a panic attack?” Adrian slowly puts his hands out towards you. He’s a little unsure of what to do.

“I’ve seen this before!” Your entire world is spinning as your start to cry. You can’t stop thinking about the awful things you saw when you snuck into their active facility earlier this year. Those poor children. Part of you was starting to wonder if Waller put you on this team for a reason. You should have known better than to think she was giving you a break. Waller always had some sort of fucked up motive that only worked for herself hidden up her sleeve. “I can’t fucking breathe!” You sob, sucking in air.

“Tender nice touching.” Adrian slowly approached you, patting your shoulder. You needed pressure on your body. You felt like you were slipping away from earth and you needed to be held down.

“Can I have a hug?” You asked, quietly.

“You want a hug?” He asked, his voice just as quiet. He was speaking softly to not startle you further.

“Yeah…”

“I think I can do that.“ He smiles, slowly bringing you into his arms. A little loose at first, he tightened the hug as you melted into him.

“I’m sorry- I- I just…I know what the did here and- and-“ Adrian shushes you as you begin to stutter, your mind moving much faster than your mouth is able to.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Just breathe with me. Don’t focus on anything else, but your breathing okay? Can you feel me breathing?” He rubs your back as you cry into his arms. You nod. “Okay, good. Just…just follow that.” He sighs and then focuses on making his own breathing something you can follow.

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to know what people on the team want because I know Chris doesn’t wanna look weak and Harcourt would kill me if I touched her, so I try to be careful. I just don’t wanna upset you guys more, but if you want me hold you I can keep doing that. Just let me know what you need and I’ll do it.” He says, softly.

“Can you just keep talking?” You ask. The sound of his voice is soothing and grounding.

“You want me to keep talking?” He smiles. “You’re in luck. I’m actually really good at talking. So good, in fact, that people are constantly asking me to shut up. So uh… What can I talk about? Oh! I know. So I have this friend at work. His name is Taylor. Well, he says we’re not friends, but he texts me all time time asking me to help cover his shifts and I would only trust a friend enough to ask them for that, so I think we’re friends. Anyway, so Taylor walked in this morning and…”

The longer Adrian rambles on the better you feel. The pressure of his body on yours and his voice slowly bring you back to earth. Eventually you find yourselves walking back through the tunnels, hand in hand, retracing your steps as he guides you back to the van to regroup. He keeps you distracted with silly stories the entire walk back.

You don’t know what the rest of your team was talking about. Adrian was the best partner you could have had.

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training4theapocalypse · 1 year ago

Text

And they call me crazy (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: SMUT, Rough sex, Non-con elements - reader is drunk and a (very eager to fuck) hostage, Light bondage, Oral, P in V, Unprotected sex, Edging, Canon typical mentions of murder and violence

Summary: You're a new intern at Senator Goff's office. It's going great... that is until Vigilante abducts you after you've been out drinking, celebrating the end of your first week. (Based on this ask from anon.)

A/N: I'm fucking impatient as usual and I couldn't wait until Sunday to post this. I've added non-con to the warnings but honestly, reader is so desperate to fuck him she DOESN'T GIVE AF if it's morally questionable that she's a hostage.

Masterlist

Join my tag list: @likeficsinthewnd, @she-wolf09231982, @pretendfan, @lolitstiana, @chiaraanatra

Chapter text:

Your gasp is stifled when a black glove covers your mouth and an arm wraps tight around your body. You stumble on the sidewalk, teetering back in your high heels into your assailant’s body but he holds you firmly upright.

“Don’t scream,” says a man’s muffled whisper in your ear.

Your whole body freezes up. God, you wish you were more sober. Why did you insist on walking home after those celebratory drinks? This is not the perfect ending to the first week of your internship that you’d envisioned. Is this why Senator Goff didn’t turn up for work today? They said he was sick.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you keep quiet and get in the car.”

It’s a man’s voice. Not one you recognise. But you can barely hear it anyway over how loudly your heart is beating in your chest. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, it seems to say, battering frantically against your rib cage.

“Nod if you understand me.”

You jerk your head forward - his tight grip doesn’t make the movement easy.

God, why didn’t you listen to your Mom? She told you earlier to get a cab home and stay safe, you’d just dismissed her advice as usual because you knew best.

He removes his hand and pushes you into the open passenger door of a beat-up old Chrysler Sebring. It all happens so fast that you don’t even think to check out the license plate.

Shit.

The man shuts the passenger door after you and hops into the driver’s seat on the other side.

It’s him.

You’ve seen his masked face on the news, wanted for carrying out his own brand of retributive justice on criminals across Evergreen. You heard people talking about his latest crimes at work today. Hell, you’ve even made stupid memes about having a crush on him in your girlfriend’s group chat.

It’s Vigilante.

You were ready to beg for your life a second ago. But now all you can do is stare. At the forefront of your admittedly inebriated mind is the fact that you’ve fantasised about the masked Vigilante of Evergreen before. But in your fantasies, you’d always been someone that he’d saved from a robbery gone wrong or some other sticky situation. Not his abductee.

And this is no fantasy. He’s here - he’s real. So intimidatingly tangible and human. You can hear his breathing through his mask, see his eyes darting around your dark surroundings checking for passersby, and you can even smell the sharp, fresh scent of his cologne when he gets close to you, reaching behind you to grab a length of rope from the back seat.

“Put your hands out.” You swallow thickly, looking at his masked face. There’s no point in arguing. “If you make any indication to anyone we pass that you’re you’re here against your will, I will kill you.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you think I’ve done but I-”

“Hey - don’t make me gag you and put you in the trunk,” he says, finishing the knot around your wrists as your stomach does a little flip. Not out of fear. Something else. He turns his keys and starts the ignition. “Oooh, seatbelt! Sorry.”

You breathe in as he reaches across you to grab your seatbelt and clip you in. Your hands sit uncomfortably on your lap as the car drives out of the dark street and onto the main road.

He pulls out his cell phone as he drives to wherever you’re going and you hear the other end of the phone ringing in the silent car.

“What is it?” You strain your ears, listening as a woman answers aggressively.

“I’ve got Goff’s assistant. I’m on my way to the video store.”

Goff’s assistant? That’s a stretch. You’re an intern. And not even Goff’s intern. You’re his assistant’s intern.

“I’m not-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Quiet!”

“What?!” says the woman on the phone.

“Sorry, Harcourt. Not you.”

“No, I mean you did what?! Vigilante, you need to run this shit by me. You can’t bring her here.”

“I did you a favour! We’re way ahead of schedule now.”

You hear the unidentified woman grumble. “We’ve got Judomaster here, dumbass. Take her someplace else.”

Goff’s funny little bodyguard. Now you know that Vigilante and the woman on the phone are responsible for Goff’s absence. Shit, what’s he going to do when he realises you know nothing?

“Where am I supposed to take her?”

“That’s what happens when you go rogue, idiot. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. She’s your problem tonight.”

You hear the line beeping as the woman hangs up.

“Fuck!” says Vigilante and he does a U-turn. “Hey, close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna have to take you to my place. I said close your eyes or-”

“Yeah, you’ll kill me. I got it,” you say resignedly. You close your eyes feeling the car turn left, straight for a while, right, left… you lose track. You have no idea where you are or how long it takes you to get there when finally you arrive at your destination.

You hear him get out of the car and still not daring to open your eyes, you feel the cool night air when the passenger door opens.

“Can I open my eyes?”

“Nope.”

You feel him reach over you to unclip your seatbelt and he hoists you out of the car by your upper arm. He roughly steers you across what you guess is a parking lot by the way your high heels click on the asphalt.

His vice-like grip on your arm still doesn’t relent, even when you reach the stairs.

“Not so fast - I can’t see!” And you’re still kind of drunk.

“Shh! Not here,” he whispers urgently. But his hold on you becomes more gentle as he helps you up the stairs, more slowly now. A sliver of empathy.

The sound of keys jingle as he unlocks a door and guides you inside. You hear him locking and bolting the door behind you. Great.

“Can I-”

“Yeah, you can open ‘em.”

You open your eyes. The small apartment is sparsely furnished, obviously decorated by a single man. No artwork on his walls, a small dining table, a clean but worn leather couch without even so much as a throw pillow.

The screech of wood on laminate makes your arm hair stand up as he pulls over a hard wooden chair into the middle of the living room.

“Sit.”

You do as you’re told. He pulls another chair over and sits down opposite you, leaning back, with his arm resting on the back of the chair. Vigilante’s intimidating form relaxes casually in front of you.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he tells you.

“I - do what the easy way?” You shift in your seat, squeezing your thighs together. What wouldn’t you want Vigilante to do you right now? Stop it, you scold yourself.

“You’ve got information and I need it.”

“I really don’t have any sort of information.”

He edges his seat closer to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne again. Fuck. “Hey, I get it. I was tortured for intel a few days ago and I didn’t crack either-”

“Torture?!” You panic now. “Look, I’m not lying - I’m not Goff’s assistant! If I knew anything I’d tell you.”

His eyes narrow behind the mask. He pulls out his phone, looking through it for something. “Shit.” Vigilante looks from his phone to you. “This isn’t you.” He holds up the screen and shows you a blurry picture of your boss walking out of the office. Sure you look alike - you have the same hair colour and both wear suits to work but she’s significantly older.

You shake your head.

“What were you doing coming out of the senator’s office?” He accuses, as if it’s your fault he’s kidnapped you.

“I’m an intern. It’s my first week.”

“So you work there? Right?” he asks desperately.

“I just get coffee and take notes, dude.”

He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Oh man, Harcourt’s gonna freak out when I tell her I fucked up again. I can’t believe I picked up the wrong hostage.”

You sit, wrists still tied together in your lap staring at him. Now what? Maybe he’ll just drop you off outside the bar where the grabbed you.

“Look, we all make mistakes. It happens to the best of us. No harm done so-”

“Stop.” He looks up at you. “You know I can’t let you go.”

You take a deep breath and look at him silently for a few seconds. “So now what? Are you gonna kill me?”

“I-”

‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’

Vigilante looks at his phone, apparently confused that it isn’t the source of the music.

“It’s mine,” you sigh, embarrassed by your choice of ringtone. You try to pick your phone out of your suit pocket with tied wrists.

“Your ringtone is Barbie Girl?”

You nod.

He pauses, giving you an unreadable look from behind his mask before reaching into your suit pocket. “I can’t let you have this.” He declines the call. Your phone pings as a message arrives. “Someone called Melanie says ‘Your boyfriend is on the news again’,” he reads.

Fuck. Your best friend Melanie knows all about your stupid crush on the man sitting in front of you right now.

“Hey- don’t read my messages!”

“I need to know if your boyfriend is gonna come looking for you.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, I swear. She’s just making a stupid joke.”

Your phone pings again. “She’s sent you a picture - what’s your passcode?”

“I said don’t read my messages. I’m not telling you my passcode.”

Vigilante sighs and turns your phone around to face you and your Face ID unlocks it. He freezes when he opens the image.

Oh, god.

He turns the phone back towards you again and you groan. Melanie has taken a picture of the news on her TV. Vigilante is on the screen. Shit.

“I told you, it was just a stupid joke,” you mumble, feeling your face turning scarlet.

“I didn’t realise you were a fan,” he says, and you can tell from the tone of his voice that he has a stupid grin under his mask.

“Well, I’m definitely not a fan right now.” You hold up your wrists.

“She can see you’ve opened it. What should I say back?”

“Hmm... say LOL…” He starts typing. “Call the police. I’m being held hostage.”

He deletes what he just typed and gives you a stern look. “Fine, I’ll just go through your messages and see what you said before.”

“No, wait! I was kidding!” You try to snatch the phone from his hands but his reflexes are too quick for your tied hands. He doesn’t have to scroll very far back through your messages to find what he’s looking for.

Vigilante laughs and starts reading aloud. “OMG, he is so fine… I’m just gonna say that again.” He sends the message and you hear the notification of Melanie responding almost immediately. He reads it aloud. “She says ‘Knew you’d appreciate it - wink emoji’.”

“Can you just kill me already?” you ask sarcastically.

He puts your phone in his pocket. “I’m not gonna kill you.”

“So what am I doing here then?”

“Waiting. For now.” You stare at each other for a few seconds. It’s hard not to feel like you’re in immediate danger. “Do you want a beer?”

Perhaps your life isn’t in danger.

You blink at him incredulously. He walks over to the refrigerator and returns with two beers. He opens yours and hands it to you.

“Can you untie me so I can drink it?” You ask, testing the waters.

“Are you gonna try and attack me and escape?”

You’ve never been in a fight in your entire life. There’s no way you’d be able to win in a physical altercation with him, not with his reputation for massacring criminal gangs.

“No.”

Vigilante looks you over, and you stare up at him, waiting for his assessment. “I could take you, anyway,” he says casually and puts down his beer on the coffee table so he can untie your wrists.

You feel yourself blushing again at his words. Vigilante could take you. He means in a fight. But your mind immediately thinks of him taking you in another way.

When he unties you, you rub your wrists, feeling the sweet relief of having them free again. Vigilante kicks back on the couch and gestures to the seat next to him. You move over and perch uncertainly on the cool leather. He lifts the bottle of beer, and then realising he’d need to remove his mask to drink it, puts it back down.

“You can take it off if you want,” you suggest.

“And let you see my face? No way. I have a secret identity.”

“Well, I bet you’re handsome under there.”

What are you doing?

The sensible voice at the back of your mind supposes that flirting with him might convince him to free you. Another slightly louder, drunker voice in your head suggests that flirting with him might convince him to fuck you.

He looks away, flustered. “I dunno about that...”

“That’s why you wear that mask, right? You’re probably so good-looking you’d be easy to spot in a line-up.”

He lifts the edge of his mask - you think for a second he’s about to reveal who he is but instead, he takes a long drink of beer. You watch his sharp jaw and exposed neck as he swallows and get a brief glance at his wet lips before he pulls the fabric back down over his face again.

“That mask doesn’t do you any favours, hiding a jawline like that.”

“Stop it, okay. I know what you’re doing.” You raise your eyebrows. “You think because you’re pretty, you can seduce me into letting you go. It’s not gonna work.”

Pretty.

You try not to smile, to keep your expression blank. You wish you could text Melanie - she’d lose her shit right now. But you’ve laid it on a bit too thick. Even though it is true - he does have a ridiculously nice lower half of his face.

“I’m just passing the time. Believe it or not, I’ve never been abducted before.” You shrug. “So what’s the plan? Stay here until your boss on the phone tells you to kill me in the morning?”

“She’s not my boss.”

“Sounds like she is.”

“I work alone. Mostly. Or with Peacemaker.”

“So let me go then. I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”

“It’s not that simple. I can’t just release a hostage.”

You think. Hard. “What if I could get you the information you need? Then I’m an accomplice. Not a hostage.”

“I thought you just got the coffee?”

“I know where my boss keeps her laptop. And her password.”

“What kind of boss tells a brand new intern her password?”

You purse your lips, wondering how much you can safely reveal to him. “She trusts me.”

“The way you want me to trust you?”

“It’s different… I just don’t want her to get kidnapped too.”

He tilts his head. “That could work.” He hesitates. “But I’ll need to double-check with Harcourt in the morning.” He spins his bottle of beer in his hands.

“I’ll give you the laptop’s location and password if you let me see your face.”

“Uh, no. You’re giving me the location and password in exchange for letting you go.”

“This is a hostage negotiation, right?” You give him a coy smile. “Let the hostage do some negotiating.”

“No way.” He lifts the bottom of his mask up again to take another drink.

“What if I suck your dick, will you show me your face?”

Vigilante chokes on his beer.

“Jeez! I’ve already told you that you can stop coming onto me. I’ve agreed to ask Harcourt to let you go.”

“I know. I’m just shooting my shot,” you smile, resting the beer bottle on your bottom lip. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Yeah, right.” He says though you can’t help but notice the way his visor-covered eyes linger on your lips.

“Dude, you saw my messages. I’ve always wanted to bump into Vigilante. Under different circumstances, obviously.”

This intrigues him. He turns in his seat, resting on the arm of the couch to face you. “Uh, what kind of circumstances?”

“Well, if you really want to know - they’re in my texts with Melanie.”

He looks at your phone again, opens your messages and starts scrolling up. His eyes widen as he pauses, reading. “Damn…”

“Which one are you reading?”

“There’s more than one?!” His voice is higher pitched this time and you grin. “Uh… ‘I wish we’d bumped into Vigilante when those guys were harassing us leaving the club last night. He would have kicked their asses and I would have-’... Holy shit.”

He adjusts himself in his seat and you can tell he’s hard just from reading your text exchange. You tilt your beer towards him encouragingly. “You can say it.”

“...‘I would have sucked the fucking soul from his body.’ Girls say this kind of shit to each other?”

You sip your drink and say nothing.

Vigilante looks at you like you’re a piece of cake he really, really shouldn’t be thinking about eating. “It would be morally wrong for me to sleep with a hostage.” He looks into your eyes.

You edge closer to him on the couch. “Accomplice, remember? I’m not a hostage if I work with you, right?”

“Listen, you are so hot. And if I met you in real life… fuck. It would be a different story.”

“This is real life.”

“You know what I mean.”

You get on your knees and crawl over to him between his legs. He shrinks back into the corner of the couch cushions. “C’mon. I won’t tell your boss.”

He swallows nervously. “You’re making it really hard for me to say no right now.”

You run your fingers over his belt. “Say you don’t want me to and I’ll stop.” Vigilante groans. You crawl forward again and press your forehead against his masked one, looking into his visor. “Tell me you don’t want me to suck your dick,” you whisper.

“Fuck…” He breathes. “And they call me crazy.”

“Maybe you should be more careful who you let in your car.”

His gloved hand grabs your wrist and for a second you think he’s going to make you stop but instead, he guides your hand onto the bulge through the fabric of his pants. Vigilante leans his head back, exposing a tiny glimpse of his neck between his mask and his suit. Your tongue finds the skin there, sliding across it and you feel him shiver underneath you.

It’s like he’s at your mercy now as you slowly, agonisingly slowly, undo his belt revealing the v-shape of his lower abdominal muscles covered in a smattering of brown hair. You slide your body down between his legs and kiss the trail of hair below his belly button while your hands work, unzipping his pants and pulling his boxers down.

Vigilante’s cock slaps his stomach when you release it from his boxers. Shit, you have a lot to work with. You’re already wet between your legs just from your conversation but the sight of him sprawled out in front of you - his entire body concealed with the exception of his hard cock - sends blood rushing to your pussy.

You lick your lips and the moment your tongue slides across his head, you feel his whole body tremble.

“Holy shit,” Vigilante whispers raggedly from behind his mask. He lifts his head to watch as his length disappears into your mouth, and you look up at him with wide eyes and hollow cheeks, sucking and running your tongue along the underside of his cock.

He grunts as you pull back to run your tongue slowly around his head again. His reaction makes your pussy ache with longing, thinking about how he’d sound with his mask off, moaning like that in your ear.

“Fuck, that’s it. Thaat’s it,” he says through gritted teeth as you find a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down. He threads his gloved hands through your hair - you think he’s going to start fucking your throat but you’re surprised when he doesn’t apply any force, letting you maintain your pace. Vigilante watches you on all fours, your ass in the air behind you as your mouth makes the wettest, sloppiest sucking sounds he’s ever heard.

Then he sees it. A glimpse of your hand under your tailored work skirt, confirming to him again that this isn’t just a ploy for early release. You’re really fucking turned on by being here, sucking his cock.

“Wait…” he whines, tugging gently at the base of your scalp. You pull back, replacing your mouth with your other hand so you can look at him. “Can I fuck you?”

You pull away and bite your lip, still pumping your hand up and down the length of his cock.

“You said you’d show me your face.” Time for your one last bargaining chip.

“I…” He hesitates, propping himself up on his elbows. “I can’t,” he pleads.

“You’ll have to cum here on your stomach then,” you grin, your wet fist picking up pace as he tenses his thighs and tries to stop his hips from jerking up into you. “If you show me your face I’ll let you cum inside me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he groans. You stop jerking him off and watch him as he pulls his mask off, tossing it aside on the coffee table. He takes a pair of glasses out of his pocket and puts them on.

You stare at him in shock. You were mostly just teasing him earlier- you hadn’t actually expected him to be this good-looking. Sure, you knew from him drinking his beer earlier that he had a nice jawline. But even in your fantasies, he was faceless - he never had gorgeous green eyes and tousled curly hair.

“You’re hot?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. “What the fuck!?”

He smiles. And you can see it this time. It’s beautiful. He has dimples.

The intimidation you felt before when you first saw the masked killer in front of you is nothing compared to how you feel now. You practically melt, turning into putty. Feeling lightheaded you realise you’ve been holding your breath and begin making a conscious effort to breathe again. Seconds ago you were convinced he was at your mercy but now…

“Do whatever you want to me,” you say abruptly. Your underwear is flooded thinking that this man, this ridiculously beautiful killer wants to fuck you.

“Oh… I’m gonna.” He raises his eyebrows and lunges forward, pinning you to the couch and kissing your neck. His rough exterior armour digs into your chest. Your hands wander along his shoulders, trying to find the mechanism to unclip it. He feels your movements and pushes himself off of you so he can undo them himself.

You lie back, watching him remove his suit, revealing a host of white scars and purplish-yellow welts across his toned chest and abdomen. You undo the top two buttons of your blouse.

“Nuh-uh,” he says, tossing his under armour onto the floor. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabs the opening of your shirt and rips it open, sending buttons scattering across his floor. He pushes your bra up, not bothering to take it off to suck on your tits.

You run your fingers through his curly hair, feeling him sloppily run his tongue over your nipple. His teeth clamp down on your breast - hard - and you squeal and yank his hair.

“Ow! Not so rough!”

He just gives you a mischievous smirk and you release your grip when he sucks the spot gently, in a sort of silent apology. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise tomorrow - a secret souvenir of your night with the masked man from the news all your friends know you have a crush on.

But Christ, what have you let yourself in for?

Vigilante moves down your body, kissing your stomach and pulling off your skirt and underwear in a single movement, throwing them haphazardly on the floor. You gasp when his mouth returns to your body and a soft, wet heat envelopes your pussy. He drags his tongue slowly, carefully along your slit.

“Oh fuck…” you whine, arching your back. “Vigilante, I- wait, fuck, what do I call you?”

“Vigilante,” he says between achingly slow licks. Every nerve ending seems to light up, sending blissful signals to your brain.

“No, I - I mean what’s your name?”

“Vigilante.”

God damn.

You look down and lock eyes with him, his pupils blown so wide his green eyes almost look black as he stares up at you, swirling his tongue in wide circles against your swollen clit. The entire lower half of your body tightens up and the walls of your pussy clench, desperate for something to squeeze around. His fingers, his cock - anything.

You reach down to find his large, gloved hand and tug at the fabric, trying to pull it off him.

He pulls his mouth back and removes his glove with his teeth.

“Is this what you want, baby?” He asks, running a single finger through your slick, wet folds and over your clit.

You nod.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, Vigilante.”

He sinks two fingers deep in your cunt.

“Is this what you fantasise about?” His questioning makes you tighten around his fingers as he draws them in and out of you. Your breathing quickens in time with his fingers pressing against that sweet spot deep inside your pelvis.

He stops abruptly and the whine that escapes you is pathetic.

“Answer me.”

“Y-yes,” you moan. “Every night.” You wriggle, trying to fuck yourself on his stationary fingers.

“Finger fucking yourself like this?” He curls his fingers up into you again.

“Mhmm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes, fuck, just like… like this.” You bring your hand to your clit and start rubbing yourself in an obscene demonstration for him as he watches from his kneeling position, one hand between your thighs.

You’re close now, you can feel your orgasm burning up inside you as your cunt starts pulsing more consistently around his digits and your breathing gets heavier. Just as your release is about to crash over you, he withdraws his hand and grabs your wrist, moving your hand away from your clit.

“Wha-?” You pant dazedly. “I was just about to-”

“I know,” he smirks. “Not yet.”

Fuck. He’s fucking edging you.

His lips meet yours for the first time and you moan softly into his mouth. His tongue rolls against yours and you can still taste your sweet and salty juices on him.

Then, without warning, he flips you over and you gasp wordlessly face down on the leather couch in stunned silence. He pulls your hips back and up towards him.

“Fuck, Vigilante,” you choke, lifting your head up and arching your back, your brain working hard to regain awareness of its surroundings.

The weight of his body presses down on top of you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna forget my face in a line-up.”

Fuck.

He takes his cock and drags it over your soaking wet entrance, flushed and swollen for him and the broken sob that escapes you is desperate.

“Please,” you beg again. “Just let me cum.”

Vigilante sinks into you with a forceful jerk of his hips and your pussy seizes up tight around him as your face is forced onto the cold leather again. You try and push yourself up onto all fours.

“Nuh-uh, I like seeing you like this,” he says with another forceful thrust, knocking you off balance. “Hands behind your back.” You huff and do what he says, his still-gloved hand pinning your wrists behind you. “I shoulda just kept you tied up, huh?”

You can’t answer, you can’t move, you can’t do anything except just take him. Sparks of electricity reignite inside you, the deepest you’ve ever felt it as he pounds into you, hitting just that right spot again. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder and when you see Vigilante biting his lip in concentration your walls start pulsing and squeezing around his cock.

“Not… yet.” He grunts. “Not ‘til I say.”

He pushes down on your wrists and it feels like all the air is being knocked from your lungs with every roll of his hips.

“Fuck, you’re such a… pretty… little… hostage,” he groans through gritted teeth, each thrust punctuated by his praise.

“Yes…” you whine because it’s all you can manage to say. It’s all you can think. That one singular confirmation repeating over and over again in your head - it’s all you want to be for him. Fuck, you’d happily spend the rest of your life locked in his apartment, letting him use you like this every time he came home after a night of murdering criminals.

Your eyes roll back in your head, fireworks rocketing and exploding into a million bright pieces. If there’s a heaven, it would look like this - a beaten-up leather couch in a shitty apartment in downtown Evergreen.

His other hand that’s free of his glove and not pinning you down reaches round and starts working your clit with rough, calloused fingertips. You squeeze your eyes shut, not realising they’ve been watering. Real tears leak from the corners, leaving your face a wet mess on the leather seat. You choke out a sob, not sure how much longer you can fight against your orgasm.

“Shh, shhh… it’s okay, baby. You can cum. Let it all out for me.”

And you do.

Everything goes dark and you’re lost in the pleasure that takes over your body, your climax wiping your mind blank of all thoughts except Vigilante. Your pussy clamps down hard like a vice around his cock as you squirm on his fingers. It’s only when you feel him shudder and collapse on top of you that you realise he’s come undone too.

You both lie there for a second, feeling the warmth of your combined mess leaking out and the sound of him panting, exhausted.

“Vigilante…” you say in a strained voice, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” he exhales and takes another gulp of air.

“You’re crushing me.”

“Oh.” He hoists himself off of you. “Let me get you a towel.”

With difficulty, you sit back upright to wipe your eyes and fix your hair. Vigilante returns with a towel and you sit on it, grateful for the barrier between you and the wet, sticky couch cushion.

He throws himself back down beside you. “Whoo, I’m beat!” he says cheerfully. “What do you wanna do now?”

You look at him uncertainly and glance at your watch. “It’s one in the morning.”

“Right, cool. Do you wanna sleep on the couch or-”

‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’

Who’s phoning you this late?

He picks up both of your phones from the coffee table. “It’s mine,” he says and accepts the call. “Hello?”

Wait - his ringtone is Barbie Girl too?

“It’s me,” says the same voice of the woman who called him earlier. “Have you dealt with the hostage yet?”

Vigilante looks at you and hesitates. He swallows. “Yeah. It’s done.”

“So she accepted the bribe? You’ve got the laptop?”

His eyes widen. “The bribe? Oh! Yeah, sure! The bribe...”

“Vij, you didn’t kill her, did you?”

“What?” He lets out a maniacal laugh. “You’re crazy, Harcourt, of course I didn’t kill her. What’s the, uh, budget again?” He winks at you and makes an ‘ok’ sign with his thumb and forefinger. He’s insane, you think.

“I dunno, like five grand?”

“Phew! Then yes, it is all dealt with. Done and dusted. I will get that laptop.”

“You don’t have the laptop yet!? Vigilante, you need to get the laptop before you hand over the money, idiot.”

“Copy that,” he grins.

“Vigilante, what the f-”

He hangs up, cutting her off and tosses his phone aside.

“Good news. I can let you go once you give me the laptop.”

“And the five grand?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Wait, you heard that?!”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well not until you give me the laptop.”

“I can get it tonight if you need it? We just need to swing by my boss’s house before you drop me off.”

He frowns. “Oh. Right. Yeah, of course. I need to… need to take you home.”

You tilt your head to one side and look at him fondly. You fix his messy curls and he closes his eyes at your touch. “Or… I could stay here tonight? Pick up the laptop tomorrow morning once you’ve fixed me some breakfast?”

He perks up. “I could do that! …You’re one hundred per cent sure you can get it though, right?”

You sigh and extend your hand. “Give me my phone.” He does and watches you go through your contacts.

The line rings and a familiar but slightly croaky voice answers.

“Honey, it’s one in the morning. Is everything alright? Did you get home okay?”

“Hey Mom, I’m fine. Listen, I think I forgot to send an email before I left the office and I can’t sleep worrying about it. Can I pick up your laptop first thing tomorrow?”

She yawns. “Sure thing. Don’t get stressed about it. Just go get some sleep.”

“Thanks, boss. I love you.”

“Goodnight sweetie. I love you too.”

You grin as Vigilante gapes at you.

“Goff’s assistant… she’s your-?”

“Yup. Now c’mon, show me where your bedroom is.” You stand up and reach your hands out, waiting for him to guide you. You step on one of your shirt buttons as he leads you towards the hallway. “You owe me a new shirt, by the way.”

“I just made you five grand. Use that to buy a new shirt,” he says, opening the bedroom door.

“Hey, what happened to the hostage negotiation? These are the terms of my release.”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” he smirks, shutting the door behind you.

#vigilante x reader #vigilante #adrian chase x reader #vigilante peacemaker #adrian chase #vigilante x you #freddie stroma #fanfic #peacemaker #vigilante x female reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x you #adrian chase imagines #adrian chase x y/n

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training4theapocalypse · 1 year ago

Note

This is everything. The world building, the Gut Chase lore, THE SMUT 😭

Hi if you're open to requests: could you do an Adrian x fem reader with the premise of them having known eachother in highschool and sticking together as ostracized weirdos. Reader leaves evergreen after graduating HS and comes back 10 years later and runs into Adrian. I love your writing and how you characterize Adrian!!

hi hi hi i hope you enjoy this it got away from me and now its a full blown fic

A Homecoming

warnings: best friends to strangers to lovers, gut chase is his own warning, maybe ooc, angry drunk sex, bad speeches, love confessions, angry fluff if that makes sense, happy ending even tho both idiots are in their bag down bad

“How the fuck did Laura meet Gut Chase of all people?” you whisper to yourself as you pick out produce to stock the fridge of your Airbnb. It's a crappy one bedroom house on what was once the nicer side of town, the side with lovely little suburbs away from all of the apartments and trailer parks that people turned their nose up at. You remember those noses turned up at you for your lovely little apartment that you called a childhood home. Now it feels freaky to be on the other side, in a rancher in a suburb with cute little pinterest craft-esque decor on the walls and a Friends reference as the wi-fi password. Fucking yuck.

You never expected to be back in Evergreen after high school, especially not for a wedding. You flew across the country for college to basically avoid this very situation, but here you are. Your college roommate who got a job in Seattle bringing you back to your home town to marry easily the biggest douche from your high school. Your invitation to the fifteen year reunion came in the mail and was thrown directly into the trash several months ago muttering about how they even fucking found your newest address, and then the fuckin save the date from Laura came behind it. You’d known Laura was dating some gym trainer, you knew she said he was from a small town. She’s always been one to fall fast and hard, and you can count on more fingers than you've got the amount of times through college and grad school she had cried over a failed date with “the one” before getting back in the proverbial saddle.

You fondle an onion and think about the last time you saw Gut Chase. It was… the morning after your graduation. The morning you left for Gotham. He was sat at the breakfast bar of their house sipping coffee and raising an eyebrow at you trying to sneak out of his house for once instead of into it.

Now having taken that trip for the first time in reverse, your long taxi ride from the airport to the airbnb felt like a death march. You’d left behind so much and burned any bridges that could have been left here.

June 2008

“The guys are never going to believe this.”

“Dude, you’re not telling any guys about this,” you laugh, wrapping yourself around Adrian’s torso, the lean muscle taught under his skin as he laughs with you. You weight dips and moves on the trampoline below you, the stupid double wide sleeping bag doing nothing for your back, especially after you’ve been standing in heels all day and sweating in your graduation cap and gown.

“But then I can finally tell Gut and Chris it’s just that I’m a late bloomer! And if I don’t tell them it was you they won’t believe me!” Adrian exclaims, not at all worried by the open windows of his own house or the other backyards that the dawn is going to slowly creep over. You roll your eyes, your best friend always consumed with impressing his older brother and his friends.

“That's not a thing. Isn’t it enough that we had this?” you ask, you cheek pressing into his bare chest. His legs tangle in the early summer heat under the cheap sleeping bag.

“No!” He exclaims, laughing like you should be in on it too, but you don’t laugh with him. Your virginity was never important to you, it’s just that everyone else in Evergreen sucks. He’s the only one that you would have deemed worthy anyway.

You figured: You leave for college tomorrow, he’s the best person you know, and he’s hot even if he doesn’t know it. You’re both virgins- or- you were until you dragged him out into the backyard around two in the morning after passing back and forth a bottle of peach schnapps that he had been arguing about with you all night until he figured out it tasted like candy; the party his older brother hosting in yours and Adrian’s name very quickly became not about you and about him and his friends who had graduated a few years prior.

Tomorrow you’ll be a month away from being eighteen and across the country by yourself and you haven’t told anyone but your mother, but it hasn’t quite hit you yet. It can’t when a sticky condom was thrown across the yard twenty minutes ago, and That’s Not My Name by the Ting Tings is bass boosted and floating in the air from the house, and Adrian Chase just gave you your first orgasm.

“Maybe it is,” he admits, his voice now heavy with sleep. You don’t know when he falls asleep, but you leave before he wakes.

Your hand shakes at self check out, wondering if Adrian and his brother patched things up enough to be a groomsman. Laura made you a bridesmaid over FaceTime, talking your ear off about how much Dorian wasn’t her normal type but when you know you know, you know? And even then it never struck you to remember that Gut’s real name is Dorian. Maybe you’d be paired up, and maybe Adrian had changed enough in this span of time to forgive you and look you in the eye. You don’t count on it, honestly, you expect him to throw a fit the second he sees you. You don’t blame him for that hypothetical reaction either. It’s been over a decade with two degrees six terrible boyfriends and only one friend who ever came close to how special Adrian was for you. And now she’s marrying Adrian’s dickhead brother.

Its only a few minutes after you load the dirty old fridge of your airbnb (definitely only getting three stars, the place is sketch) that you phone rings, Laura’s contact illuminating the dull lighting of the kitchen. You put her on facetime while you load the pantry.

“BITCH!” she screams, her smile illuminating a dim screen as her voice cuts through all of the loud background noise, “Where are you?”

You laugh, tossing the veggie chips into the back of the pantry.

“Where am I?” you scoff, “I’m at my Airbnb, I was about to throw on a bad movie and drink some wine. Where are you, Miss Bride?”

She puts the phone up close to her face, only her eye showing as she fake whispers into the mic.

“I’m at Hooters,” she confides like its the funniest secret.

“Oh, with Mr. Groom?” you ask, teasing her as you reach for the bottle and the corkscrew, one of the few amenities left to you in the drawers.

“With tha whooooole wedding party,” she draws out the words without taking the phone away from her eye.

“You had their LIT’s, didn't you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her.

“And I just bought one for you,” she confirms, “So you better get an uber or I’m going to switch out your bridesmaid dress for an Aquaman costume.”

“You slut!” you shout, swiping up on her call to obey her and pull up uber, “You wouldn't. Aquaman is such a chump.”

“So get over here!” she laughs, and it's infectious. God, you've missed Laura. Sure, you facetime twice a week, but she lived with you for six years and it's like losing a hand to lose her being just a few layers of drywall away at all times.

“I am, I am! Its ordered,” you assure her, and a comfortable silence settles, she sips her drink, her hand clawlike to hold both hers and yours so she can hold her phone in the other.

“You know he fucks the fish, right?” you ask.

“You're the second person to say that tonight!”

The uber to Hooters is quick, thank god. The bright lights feeling harsh on your skin and you really wish Laura hadn't threatened you with the costume. It’s manipulation at its finest. You had the most recent kissing booth movie right there ready to be made fun of over your coffee mug full of wine. But no, you have to stand around in a Hooters in your hometown. Youre flooded with relief, however, when you walk past the hostess stand and clock that theres a touchtunes machine in the corner so you can at least entertain yourself with awful song choices. You know who would love hearing the Monster Mash followed by Call Me Maybe? You and Laura. Especially after she tries to pour that LIT down your throat the moment she sees you.

“There she is!” Laura shouts, helping you tilt back the glass immediately. It's just like college again, your days back in Gotham where you’d wander away from the college bars and see how much liquor you could get for your money.

“Mm, holy shit,” you cry out, barely able to down the drink in one go, “That's how you snagged your groom?”

She crinkles her nose at you,her blonde hair falling in her face as she leans in close.

“He happened to like my squat thrust, I know I have to work harder than that to win you over,” she quips, and you rub your nose with hers before pushing yourself out of her arms reach.

“Now where is he? Who are these bridesmaids I’m sharing my spotlight with?” you ask, letting her lead you further in towards the bar.

Gut Chase himself meets you halfway across the restaurant.

“Y/N!” He shouts, “You’re kidding me! I thought Laura-girl was joking when she said she knew you.”

“Gut!” you shout back, surprising yourself that you're actually sort of happy to see the familiar face. He pulls you under his bicep quickly, ruffling your hair as if you were his little sibling.

“She was so weird after she got kicked off the cheer squad,” he explains to his fiancee, “She spent all her time in my basement with my little brother! This one lived with us.”

“Oh, Adrian?” she asks hesitantly trying to remember his brother's name , and something weird twinges in your chest.

“Yeah,” you manage to get out, your voice and your breath practically leaving you.

Is he here? Does he hate you? Does he miss you? The first few years without him were tough, you would turn to tell him something or think of something funny you had to say and it all just had to float into the wind, forgotten. Then Laura sort of filled that gap. Then your D&D group. But the Adrian sized hole can only be squeezed into, never full filled, never a perfect fit.

“Yo, Adrian!” Gut calls out before you can stop him, “Get your ass over here!”

Gut releases his grip on you and a man across the bar looks up from his phone.

And it's like time slows down, and as he slides off the barstool “Foxy” by Jimi Hendrix floods the air like that scene in Wayne's World. Its like he moves in slow motion, his sweater doing nothing to obscure his physique and muscles, his glasses doing nothing to hide those beautiful eyes of his. He's changed so much, but not at all, just filled out what was already there. You're not sure if it's the LIT or the sight of him that's making your knees feel like they’re buckling.

“Why is she here?” Adrian asks his brother, his posture straight and tone unreadable, and Gut gives him a warning look. You almost pity Laura that you didn't brief her on on your intimate knowledge of the family she was marrying into.

“Bro…” Gut warns him, less than subtle. You've seen this before, but in high school, Gut would have just hit Adrian already or called him a pussy.

“Hey, uh, Gut? Sorry, Dorian?” he turns his attention to you as you correct yourself, “Why don't you take my dear Laura for another LIT? I could use another one too.”

Laura looks at you like you've got three heads for commanding the situation, but gladly lets her fiance lead her back over to order another, whispering to you that she’ll bring yours on Gut’s tab.

Adrian stares at you, looking you up and down, sizing you up… not sexually, maybe… maybe? Wouldn't be the worst thing, he’s always been handsome to you, but he's really filled out.

“Why are you here?” he asks you directly, his knuckles turning white around his beer.

“I….,” words fail you for a moment, breath hitching in your throat as a million things want to spill from your lips.

I’m sorry, I’ve always regretted leaving you, I wanted you to come with me, I wish I took you with me, I compared even the stupidest tinder date to you, I want to make you laugh, I loved you since I was a kid, Even Laura doesn’t get me like you do.

But you don’t say any of that. You can’t.

“I’m here for the wedding,” you say, holding it all back even though you could collapse into his arms at any moment.

“Me too,” He says, “Only I’ve been here and who knows where you were.”

Okay; you deserve that snark from him.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

An understatement of the century but it’ll do for now. If you say too much, you’ll cry. You cannot cry in a Hooters.

“Or say goodbye?”

“I know, I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry for everything.”

Adrian’s arms fall around you, the cold heel of the bottle of the glass digging between your shoulder blades as you lean into the hug against him. It feels like home being in his arms again, only now the arms are filled out with muscle and he

“I’m sorry too,” Adrian offers, but there's no real emotion behind it. You can tell he doesn't really mean it; an empty thing to say just because he thinks he should, but that doesn't bother you.

“There's nothing to be sorry for, “ you console him genuinely, your hand rubbing up against his henley covered bicep.

“I know, I’m just saying that. I’m not the one who abandoned my best friend. Now I have a new best friend!”

You pull back, not at all upset because you expect that too, and at this moment Laura comes back with your LIT.

“For courage,” she whispers not at all subtly in your ear before kissing your cheek and running back to her fiance.

“Why do you need courage?” Adrian asks, not pretending he didn't hear that.

“Cause I never should have left… and you look really good.”

It's definitive, it's out there. You can't and you won't take it back for anything. It's the truth. You love Laura and the fact that you met her but you absolutely should not have left Adrian to do it.

You take the straw to your mouth and suck, not pulling away from Adrian, instead your hand still around his back clawing into his sweater to keep him there.

“You look really good too! Pretty, because women don't like being called hot.”

You dont know where he got that from, but you accept the compliment nonetheless.

“You know, I was really mad at you for like a year, but then I just got over it, I figured you were trying to teach me some weird lesson about missed opportunities or acting out part of some romantic comedy but then you didn't come back and… I’ll shut up now,” he says, misreading your attention on him as a bad thing.

“I wanted to call you back,” you admit, “But how do I call you and say: Hey, I’m in Gotham now! Even though we were supposed to get dinner tonight I guess I wont be making those plans. I didnt know what to do.”

“I could have come with you!”

You both know thats a fucking lie.

“I’m glad I got to see you,” you offer, the words so bittersweet on your tongue. His eyes search your face, and you realize then you probably should have re-applied some make up. Its set into your face from the flight this morning and all of the errands you've run. You probably look like some kind of victim.

"Me too, because honesty I've thought about that night a lot. I've tried to rank where it falls between all the threesomes I've had."

Weird flex, but, okay.

"I do too," you admit as you grab the straw for another sip, "not the threesomes thing, but I think about it... about you."

Something about Adrian's gaze has you open and honest, moreso than you would normally be with a man. But then again, Adrian isn't just some man...

“Finish that,” he tells you, his eyes zeroed in to where your lips and the straw connect. You obey, drinking what you can before putting the glass down on the nearest empty table.

“Adrian I-” You get cut off by his lips capturing yours; Adrian kisses you with a passion you haven’t felt in fucking years, the passion of someone who actually cared. Sure, you've had boyfriends and girlfriends, but none have kissed you like this.

Instead of hot and bothered you feel cold… and wet.

“Adrian, what the fuck-?” you whisper when you can break away, something dripping down your leg. His beer spilling as he tilts the bottle carelessly to grip you better. You break away from him to shake the beer off of your jeans, a puddle forming on the ground. He scrambles to right the turned bottle and place it on the same table as your LIT.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m not good at understanding people,” he admits to you as if you didnt spend all of high school attached at the hip, and this time you kiss him, your hands coming up to cup his clean-shaven jawline.

The next thing you know, you're back at your airbnb, having Irish goodbye’d to Laura and Gut and without meeting or talking to the rest of the wedding party. Youre being a bad friend and a bad bridesmaid and you know it. You hadn’t had the chance to ask Adrian why Gut was so friendly to him, though Laura might have a hand in that. You hadn’t had the chance to ask where he worked, what he liked to do, who Adrian now was really.

Adrian’s mouth barely leaves yours the second the door is closed, instead backing you quickly into what he correctly guessed is the bedroom of the house. His reflexes are sharp, unlike the awkward teen he was, and he knows how to perfectly steer you to your bed for the next week.

You walk backwards awkwardly until your calves meet the boxspring unceremoniously. He tilts you back until you fall on your own, your elbows catching you as he follows suit and crawls on top of your figure. You don't know where the confidence comes from, but then again it had fifteen years to form in him. Adrian pulls off your shoes and your pants quickly as he moves up the bed, not even trying to hide his prowess, moving like some kind of well trained machine. He’s come to impress even though he's done more than that by simply not snubbing you or telling you off in the middle of a Hooters, although both would have been deserved.

But you; You feel like you're back out on that trampoline again, your graduation dress pushed up around your waist, all too bare under him. No time has passed, it’s all so familiar -

“I should hate you” he states, his lips hovering over your navel, “But it's weird, I don't! In fact, I feel like I should be thanking you. If hadn't left and rejected me so hard I wouldn't have gotten so buff and good looking.”

“You should hate me,” you agree, your breath and your words feeling lost in your chest under the weight of him on top of you. His lips travel from your navel to your ribcage, pushing your shirt up as he goes, leaving a trail of fire in their path. You arch your back into his motions, your hands helping him pull the shirt off, awkwardly shuffling until you can fling it to some random corner of the room. Adrian’s eyes widen when he sees your bralette, mesh and flimsy and hiding nothing from him.

He pulls one of the dark blue mesh cups down, immediately latching his lips around your pert nipple, sucking and earning a sharp inhale of breath from you. He chuckles against your skin at your reaction to him, and then does it again. Cocky asshole. You can't help but compare this to the trampoline. He was so unsure, fumbling and almost tearful at the fear of fucking something up. You led the way, urged him on. Adrian now needs no urging, no guidance in making you squirm beneath him. His lips release your nipple, and he bites down at the top of the swell of your breast, sure to leave a mark. Youll have to remember to put a spoon in the freezer tomorrow morning or else you could end up with a wardrobe malfunction for the wedding. Cocky bastard, you think, leaving his mark on you.

But really, he’d left so many marks on you that still havent faded. Its the way your ringtone from high school never changed, its the way you bought only the brands of locks Adrian said were best for each apartment you've had, its the way you buy things in teal if theres the option. Your fucking spatula back home is one of his many marks.

“Ah!” you yelp when his bite gets a little too hard, your perfectly manicured fake nails digging into his back. Adrian laughs again and pulls himself up to reach your neck, his hands exploring everywhere they can, teasing at your chest, your waist, your hips.

“Fuck me,” you plead as his lips connect with the pulsepoint on your throat.

“Youre sure?” He asks, “You know, you shouldn’t fuck someone who should hate you. That's just asking for complications.”

And although he gives you an out, he’s already gone back to kissing and licking at your throat and groping at every curve of your body. You're thinking with your pussy, not your mind right now. You know there should be a conversation instead of whats happening right now. Maybe some tears shed, maybe a nostalgic movie and some honest explanations on your part.

But you don't initiate any of that.

“Then fuck me like you hate me,” you say instead.

Adrian grinds his jean clad length against your core, and you whine, girlish and high pitched and embarrassing. He shushes you, removing himself from your grasp to yank off his sweater and undershirt, then his jeans all discarded over the edge of the foot of the bed.

He moves to you, working your panties down your legs until you can kick them off the bed at your ankles, and sheds his boxers with them. His eyes follow the trail of your legs to your center, already dripping and ready for him.

“You really want that?” he asks, and it sounds rhetorical. You didnt know Adrian could do that. He traces his calloused hands up the insides of your thighs, letting his fingertips tease you where you need him most. You nod fervently, arching your back to try to reach him, bring him closer.

“Please?” you ask, wanton and pathetic under him. He draws his thumb between your folds, testing the metaphorical waters. He draws low, anticipation laced moans from your lips, teasing and slow.

And then without warning pushes two fingers into you.

Your gasp echoes against the cliches wall decor, rattling the glass of the live laugh love frame, shaking the flimsy bedframe.

He does not start slowly, no, he gives you no mercy in his motions, his smirk teasing and taunting you as he thrusts his hand.

“Adrian, I- Fuck!” you struggle to find the words, your hands moving to his forearms and digging your nails in, trying to hold on for dear life.

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. Fuck, you didn’t know Adrian could talk like this. And to think, you could have had this the whole time if you just stayed here.

“Yeah,” you whine, “Yeah, please.”

You're not sure what youre begging for. To cum? To feel him? You just want more.

“I’ll give you exactly what you want,” he leans down like he’s going to kiss you, and then instead nips at your lip before pulling back. Its cruel.

His fingers move in, out, in, out, inout, and then slow to a halt inside you. You squirm under him, needing him to do anything. Anything.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he says, and you flush in embarrassment, neediness and heat settling in your chest.

“Adrian, I need you,” Your voice sounds far away, underwater, foreign to your ears. Who is this person? How and when did you ever get this needy, this desperate? His smile grows, but it does not give you any comfort.

Adrian removes his fingers from you, lifting them up to his nose to smell them.

“Like fucking candy,” he remarks, and pushes his boxers down, easily discarding them.

He leans back down, his weight on you once more. A weighted blanket, a comfort as his chest presses against yours. You kiss him, the way a smoker needs a cigarette, pulling and all consuming; your hands find purchase in his hair, your body fully reactive to every tiny movement of his lips against yours. His tongue sweeps across your lips, easily parting them the same way he easily parted your legs. He moves against you, rock hard in the crux of your thigh, his big hands holding your hips in place as he finds his way. Adrian probes along, pushing his hips in slow teasing motions until he finds his rightful spot at your center.

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he whispers between kisses, and you brace yourself against him, foreheads touching and his glasses fogged.

He pushes into you with a groan, bottoming out and giving you the grace to adjust before he starts to move.

Adrian’s hips rock you, the whole bed, your whole world, your hands tighten around his curls as they pick up in pace, the rhythm of the bedframe banging against the bed punctuating each of his movements. He picks up his pace quickly, and you move in time easily, rolling your hips to meet his with each thrust.

“Fffffuck,” you stutter, losing control of your lips, your tongue, both moving of their own accord and saying shit. There’s a war in your brain, part of you wants to stay in control, wants to make sense of this; the other side wants everything Adrian to overtake everything you.

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he repeats, switching up his angle to make your next moan a pitiful squeak in your throat.

“You,” you gasp again, “You said that.”

His hands roam the geography of your body, mapping each curve and dip of you, not missing a single centimeter. Everything he touches turns to flame, hot under him and hot under his touch, pushing you closer and closer to your boiling point.

You won't last long, you know that. Adrian moans above you, dragging his lips against the corner of yours as he moves, closer and closer.

And then he pulls out. You whine at the missing contact, the chill that sets in without his heat in your orbit. You pout, lips messy and swollen.

“Turn over,” he demands, moving his finger in a circle to demonstrate his intention. You obey quickly, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. His hands land first on your ass, smacking both sides of your cheeks and whispering “hell yeah” in a tone you're definitely sure you weren't supposed to hear. His hands then slide from your ass to your hip, then to your back. He unclips your bra and lets the straps fall down your shoulders.

He bends down over you, letting his chest press into your bare back as he presses a kiss to the space where your neck and shoulder meet.

“Down, girl,” he says, as one of his big hands starts to push your shoulder down until you cave into his movements, folding into the bed until your face hits the pillow.

Fuck, all control of the situation you had, you’ve lost. The ground crumbling out from under you and Adrian can mold and manipulate you any way he wants to, and you want him to.

His free hand strokes down the curve of your back, and then leaves you, only to position himself back at your entrance.

“Oh, you look beautiful like this,” Adrian sighs, sounding strained. You've always trusted Adrian to be honest, and you can believe he means it, like he would worship you face down ass up.

He presses his length into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, a glacial pace until he’s fully sheathed.

Adrian wiggles his hips when theyre fully against your ass, and you huff in laughter, giggling into the pillow before he silences you with a rough thrust.

This new angle feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, but in a way that you want to feel over and over again, in a way that makes you feel breathless and alive. The next thrust and the one after that leave you gasping and struggling for air, the ones after it drawing high pitched whines into the silk of the pillowcases.

He pistons into you quickly after that, like a man with something to prove. He presses his full length into you each time, and each time hitting a spot inside you that has you feeling fuzzy and hot all over. His hand returns to your hip to guide his motions and yours.

You chase your high, rocking back into his thrusts and meeting each of them half way. Your moans are swallowed in the silk, wrapped and buried down deep into the mattress, rooted in him and the moment.

“How am I doing?” he asks, and sensuality gone from his voice, but thats just Adrian.

You moan in response, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent moons in your skin that would last far into the morning.

“Close,” you manage to squeak out, your voice barely audible, but Adrian picks up on what you're trying to say.

“Yeah? You wanna come on my dick?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a choice otherwise. Adrian moves his hand from gripping your hip to between your legs. His fingers circle your clit, just the right amount of pressure to make it feel like you're about to snap.

“Please,” you whine, arching your back further into the friction.

“Let go, baby, let go,” he coaxes you, his lips against your spine and you finally give in to him.

He slows and kisses your shoulder while you ride your high, whispering praise against your skin as you shudder beneath him, his whole frame bent over yours. His hand leaves your clit and both come up to hug around your waist, anchoring you to him and the world and bringing you back down. All you can think of is that you could have had this the whole time. Fifteen years of this.

But then he returns to his former position, the hand on your shoulder returning there as he picks up the pace again. It stings when he starts to move, but not terribly. A soothing burn that you find yourself rocking back into without a second thought.

“Where can I?” He asks through gritted teeth, lifting his hand off of your shoulder so you can lift your head up.

“Inside,” you answer, voice still muffled by the pillow, "I'll get plan b, there's always a coupon for that shit."

“Got it,” he confirms, and then speeds up his pace again. This time his hips are messy, without rhythm as his body meets yours, his voice uncontrolled as me moans without restraint.

Even overstimulated and tired, you rock back in time to meet him, moaning each time his hip bones meet your ass.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-” he stutters, and pulls back unceremoniously, heat streaming and filling you only seconds later. You shift slowly, trying to get your knees out from under you.

Adrian stops you though, one of his hands a soothing comfort on your hip to guide you to a comfier position as his other hand dabs a tissue from the bedside on your back.

He cleans you off remarkably gently, moving over you to throw himself down on the blankets beside you, his head hitting the empty second pillow. Your back feels sticky and cold, but you don't mind at all. You turn your head so at least one one your eyes can peek out at him from where you lay spent and tired, a mess of sweat and spit and butterflies in your stomach. He lays in a similar state, breathing deeply with a lazy smile across his features.

It feels right.

“Stay and cuddle?” you ask, voice wary from use and the need for sleep. You feebly move your hand toward him, reaching out to straighten his glasses.

“Sure,” he says, “But I won't be here when you wake up.”

He puts his big arm across your back, and where you should feel the familiar warmth you only feel ice.

“Really?” you ask, but fuck, thats a mistake. You shouldn't say anything. It's an instant realization you don't want to hear anything he’s about to say.

“It’s what we do, right?” Adrian says it like it’s a joke, but there’s venom in his words. It drips through, from his teeth to yours, and sinks in.

He pulls you close, his actions not matching his words, and snuggles in, his hot breath fanning out against your face. His eyes close and he lets his body relax quickly. You try to do the same, but you end up staring at the ceiling fan, trying to think of any reason why Adrian would actually stay. You don't know when you fall asleep, but it's long after he does.

True to his word, he’s not in the airbnb when you wake up. Just cold sheets and an empty glass of water and a half eaten green apple on your counter. That's all to signify he was even here, that you and your best friend had a sleepover after fifteen years. No real evidence, no trophy, not even his phone number, not even a cup left in the sink for you to clean when you do the dishes. Even the marks of his nails are fading away into nothing.

You deserve that, you think, all of Adrian’s talk of hate fucking of course wasnt a joke. When had he ever not said what he meant? He’d always told you what was on his mind, no filter and often TMI. But that doesnt stop the tears that fall, the streaking of last night's mascara down your cheekbones and the messy foundation you didn't take off.

True to your words last night as well, before you even brush your teeth you order a plan b kit from Doordash. Now you wait, and wallow.

It comes quickly, you take it, you feel no different.

You lay on the couch, the bed feeling weird and wrong now that it's been used and abandoned by Adrian. It's definitely going to be a long week, you think, and you debate trying to contact the airbnb host to see if you can check out early. Maybe you can take a rental car up to that town they shot Twin Peaks in and stay at the hotel or something.

This was a mistake. All of it. You shouldn't have let Adrian kiss you, you shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have wanted him. You shouldn't still want him.

Your phone rings. Laura.

“Holy shit,” she sighs, her voice shaking, “Can I ask you the biggest favor?”

You have nothing to lose at this point, besides your comfort in the stilettos she has you wearing for the bridal party.

“Yeah, whats up?”

“I need,” her voice breaks, and you can tell it's serious.

“Whoa, what do you need? I’ll drop everything,” you interrupt and reassure her, and it's not like you had anything scheduled but self pity until the rehearsal tonight and the dinner at Fennel Fields afterwards. Laura’s not someone you've ever liked to hear or see cry, because she never does so unless she has a good reason.

“Gina’s plane got delayed,” she explains, “You remember Gina?”

You remember Gina well, Laura’s best friend since diapers, your Adrian basically. She was the maid of honor and you were basically second in command to her.

“Babe, I know Geen,” You remind her. Gina gave you your first pot brownie.

“Well her plane got delayed and she's stuck in Metropolis on her layover until the morning of the wedding and then she still might miss hair and make up but she's not here for the rehearsal dinner speech and I don't know what to do,” Laura sucks in a desperate breath, “I don't want to cancel the dinner speeches I know Dorian's best man had a plan.”

“You don't have to,” you tell her, “You made me second in command.”

“I know, I need you to write a speech if you can.”

At this point you can tell Laura is crying on the other end of the line.

“It's done. Don't worry your sexy little face about it,” you comfort her, not really thinking about what you're signing yourself up for but your undying loyalty to her taking over the rational thought in your mind.

“That doesn't make sense,” her voice is still watery, but you can hear the smile through it.

“Hang up on me and go make out with Gut,” you tell her, “Leave the amateur hour to me.”

And she does just that, whispering her thanks to you as she cuts herself off.

Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?

This fucking speech, your saving grace of a distraction. Fuck, fuck, fuck what do I say? You think. You wrack your brain on what to say, you practice, you write line after line in green glittery gel pen on a piece of stationary you found in the homes kitchen. You treat it like a stand up set, ‘yes and-ing’ yourself to death to try to think of something that doesn't sound stupid. You've never been in a long term relationship that was ever actually going anywhere. You're so incapable of wording what love is…

No, thats a lie you tell yourself. The words come easily now, the words flow like water from a fountain.

It's not clear how you're going to go through the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Knowing Adrian will be in the same proximity as you; Knowing that with Adrian one kiss is too many and a thousand is never enough. You want to bash your head against the wall, but instead you save your airbnb fees and focus on doing your hair and makeup and getting dressed.

You look at the dress you brought for the rehearsal, one of two garment bags hanging on the top of the closet door. Your bridesmaid dress; an olive green, low cut, with a soft flowing skirt. And then the dress for tonight, one that was already in your closet at home from your thrifting as a broke college student; navy vintage polyester taffeta, with an extremely tight square neck bodice and a tea length skirt that puffed out. You had sewn a comically big pink heart with white lace into the bottom of the bodice a week after you had gotten it. Laura came home to you sitting with fabric and thread strewn across the floor of your shared apartment. You knew this dress was a memory between you two, and that's why you picked it for tonight. Putting it on alone is a little difficult, but you manage. The only thing Laura asked out of your comfort zone was that all bridesmaids wore silver stilettos. Fucking evil, but you throw those on the passenger seat of your rental car.

You crinkle the paper with your speech in your hand as you clutch it against the steering wheel, and pull out of the driveway of the rancher.

The rehearsal goes smoothly, but that wasn't the part you were worried about. You only wrinkled part of your skirt under your sweaty hands but for the most part it was salvageable. You're walking with one of Gut’s coworkers, a nice guy named Mike who has also never been in a wedding before and he’s easy to use as a distraction from those green eyes you can't stand to feel on your skin. Laura is happy and that's what matters. That's what you tell yourself every time your smile falters.

You avoid his eyes at all costs as you enter the back room of Fennel Fields, taking your seat next to Laura’s mother, taking the Maid of Honor seat and looking at the fixed course menu after a polite hello to the woman who helped you find a Gotham apartment without remnants of fear gas in the venting. Adrian sits at the table diagonal from you now, a slight relief from the onslaught of him and everything about him. Your clammy hand reaches for the menu, passing it to the waiter nearby after clarifying that everything looked fine with no substitutions; everyone does the same and you try to keep yourself preoccupied by any means necessary to avoid that gaze.

Champagne is poured and you want to drink it down, want to take the edge off in any way possible.

But you don't. You can't. The note in your dress pocket prevents you from doing that.

Gut’s best man goes first. He gives a lovely speech, you figure. He talks about how Laura and Gut are like puzzle pieces or something and how she’s been such a light in his life. It's odd to think that Gut’s friends know so much of Laura, that she’s become one of their group. Her other bridesmaids are even Gut’s friend’s wives and girlfriends except for you and Gina and one other girl, her coworker at this new job.

You keep your eyes trained on him, and on Gut and Laura. They look so in love, so genuinely happy. Fuck, its beautiful.

“So I’ll end this trainwreck on a toast. To the lovely Bride and Groom: may they make their honeymoon flight, and not lose their luggage!”

You laugh, whispering a cheers before tapping your flute on the table and finally sipping champagne yourself.

Now it's your turn. On unsteady legs, whether from the stilettos Laura has you wearing or your emotional state, you rise from your seat and pull the grossly crumpled piece of paper from your dress pocket.

The microphone gets passed to you and you steel yourself to do your best stage face and voice. Give them senior year at Gotham University’s production of Miss Julie.

Here goes nothing.

“Hi,” you start, clear and confident, “I’m not Gina. I’m sorry, I wish I was.”

Laura’s mom and a few of the wedding party laugh. You don't look at Adrian.

“And to make matters worse, I’m not even qualified to give this speech.”

You earn another laugh, this time from more people, and Laura snorts and slams her hand down on the table. She can correctly guess how you screamed in your airbnb trying to write this, having watched you struggle through editing stand up sets for years. She knows you probably talked to yourself in the mirror to get this right.

“I’ve sabotaged my chance at love but these kids? They know what they’re doing.”

What the fuck does that next line say, you sweaty bitch? Why the fuck did you use gel pens for this?

“Before I moved into my studio in Condiment King’s territory—“ you pause for laughter and get some, “— I lived with Laura. And she was good, I guess.”

You stick your tongue out at her, winking.

“She showed me how to use a hair straightener and how to shotgun a beer, but most importantly she showed me what it looks like to actively be vulnerable and put yourself on the line for love. She faced the dating world before tinder, but she also extended that vulnerability to me. With her making soup for me when I’d had a crappy day, and calling me out when I’d done something wrong to put me back on the right path, she always loved me fully and with care. Not gentleness, though. After a frat formal she threw a glass at me once.”

The room erupted in laughter and Laura looked fake-embarrassed.

“But I have also had the privilege of knowing the groom. Dorian, or as I know him, Gut Chase, was someone I always knew would make sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch. I was briefly a cheerleader, he was in football and a few years older, but I had someone close to him that I held dearly and he kept that in mind. I don’t think he liked me much when we were growing up, but he always made sure I had a ride home and a place to stay. I wasn’t allowed to speak to him in public but I wasn’t going to get hurt around him.”

The room laughed again, although you only focus on the smile of one of the groomsmen who doesn't meet your gaze. You crumple the paper further because you can’t even read it at this point and you don’t remember what it said.

“The point is, I don't need to have some love story of my own to know what care and love look like when it comes to these two. I know I could have had something like this and I'm endlessly jealous of my prettier college roommate. And judging from last night and today I’ve never seen such explicit love between two people, the way they orbit each other and care for the people in their lives. They've found someone who is not only going to be there at night for them when things are fun, but they've found someone who’s going to be there in the morning. And someone they're going to be there in the morning for. Someone that's going to take care of the good and the bad and someone that they're going to show up for in that way, too. It’s fucking beautiful. I’m sorry for cursing. Let’s get hammered.”

You knock back your champagne and remind yourself to call an uber and leave your rental here. Maybe it's heavy handed that you mentioned the morning. But really, had you stayed that morning with Adrian you would have never left. You would have thrown away college had he kissed you again the morning after. People cheer and you scurry to get away from the spotlight, people start to stand from where they were and waiters start to clear plates and people begin to go to the bar. You're one of the first.

You order another glass of champagne. Had Adrian asked, you would have stayed. You know that. You've always known that, and that's exactly why you had to leave before he woke up. Fate is cruel, bringing you back here.

“Baaabe!” Laura shouts, Gut in tow, and throws her arms around you.

You hug her back with the arm not holding your glass.

“That was amazing,” she says, and you can only scoff, not willing to take the praise.

“You did good, Runt,” Gut offers, patting your shoulder with a fond smile on his face. Maybe people can change.

“Thanks guys,” you sigh, and try to gulp down this next glass as well.

“Who were you talking about?” Laura asks.

You choke on your sip.

“Who?”

“In the speech, you said you blew it with someone, who was it?”

Gut’s grip on your shoulder gets a little tighter.

“Do you want a tequila shot?” you deflect, and never one to turn down a challenge, she accepts.

You shoot Gut a thankful glance, although he actually didn't do anything.

The next morning you wake up to your alarm with the slightest headache, two full glasses of water and a bottle of advil on your bedside table that you don't remember placing there but you also don't expect to with all the champagne and tequila going to your head.

It's still forty five minutes before you have to be at the wedding venue but you shower in under ten minutes and call an uber (thankful for your foresight to leave your car last night) the second you're dry. It's a good thing the ride is quick to the venue and they dont mind that you've thrown your bridesmaid dress and shoes and an additional backpack across the back seat. The uber driver is far too loud and friendly for this hour, your headache starting to get stronger even though you took the advil.

Laura’s already there and panicking, her lashes done and her immediately screaming at you to get into the hair chair even though it's technically not correct on her schedule. Janessa should be going first but you don't question a bride thats near tears. You hop in and close your eyes, and combing or prodding is fine with you, as long as you don't have to be standing.

By the time your hair is done other bridesmaids trickle in, and by the time everyone is done Gina finally is able to make an appearance and you all breathe a sigh of relief at Laura’s worry finally dissolved. You all look nice. Laura looks like a princess. You're not sure if you can get through this wedding without crying like a baby now that you see her all done up. Fuck. She ushers you all out as she stays behind, a smile that finally looks genuine plastered on her face, ready for her first looks with her new husband before the rest of the world gets to see her.

“Thank you,” she whispers one last time to you, and you squeeze her hand before you leave the bridal suite to go line up in preparation for the actual wedding itself.

“— You moron!”

You catch the end of whatever Gut is whisper-shouting at Adrian in the lobby, handsome in his suit and anxiety painted on his face and seeping from his gritted and bared teeth.

You walk the rest of the way over after getting down the rest of the stairs, skirt of your dress fluttering as you move, and put your hand on Gut’s arm not unlike the way he did to you last night.

“Hey, whatever's going on, I got it,” you tell him, not looking Adrian’s way still in fear of your own emotional state. You aren't sure why you offered to help at all, but there's no backing out now.

“He wants to switch partners to walk with you, which is stupid and not part of the plan,” Gut explains. What the fuck. Actually what the fuck.

You shake your head, and you bury the pit in your stomach. Your emotions aren't the most important ones today and others are at stake. Fuck it, you’ll take one for the team and maybe cry in the bathroom later and blame it on the alcohol, as long as it doesn't stop you from the cotton eyed joe at the reception.

“Let us switch, your bride is upstairs waiting, we’ll handle shit down here,” you tell him, voice already exasperated, and that seems to light a fire under his ass. He moves to the staircase without another warning and salutes towards you and his little brother.

His little brother whom you still cannot look in the eye.

The rest of the bridal party starts to get themselves together at the disappearance of the groom, and you sort yourself in order. Shoes are good, hair is good, dress is good, you are good to go; and once youre over this hiccup you can party with Laura and the other bridesmaids.

“Look, I’m sorry-” Adrian starts as you link your arm in his own. He looks so fucking good in the suit, so good you need him to shut up before the last of your dignity leaves you.

“Don't even worry about it,” you say, still not looking at him, “We’re even, remember?”

Adrian seems to deflate at your words, but if you know Adrian you know that doesn't mean he’s given up.

“I’m just saying, you didn't deserve that. I should have stayed.”

You eye up Gina in front of you, her long hair cascading down her back, happily joking with the best man. Mike’s now behind you, with Laura’s work friend. Adrian’s arm feels like a cage around you.

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, trying to focus on how it feels to be hungover in stilettos. Bad, but you can use that pain as a distraction.

“See, you say that,” you're in for an Adrian rant, and you wish you could appreciate it, “But you won't look at me, and then your speech last night had me thinking, and then you didn't let me talk to you about it after you drank a lot of tequila with my brother and even though I drove you home you wouldnt let me make sure you drank your water.”

He looks at you with expectant eyes, asking you to crack.

He says it so easily, as if his mini rant doesnt throw a spear through the heart of your barely calm and cool persona. As if your blood doesn't run cold knowing Adrian was in the airbnb again, only to care for you and look out for your safety. Adrian is a good guy, and as your pinky toe pinches in the straps of the stiletto while you rock away from him, you regret never calling most of all. Your eyes search his face for an hint of a lie, but you can't find one. So you do what you can, you look away from him.

“I drank the water,” is all you can say, the tip of the iceberg of what you really mean. His free hand squeezes your elbow, an exchange.

The opening chords of the organist strike, and you recoil at the sound, sighing deeply as everyone readies themselves.

Gina is all you want to focus on, her two braids tied into the curls the stylist sweat over in a half up-do that would rival what the wig makers on Game of Thrones could do.

“But anyways, I’m trying to apologize.”

You can't even find a bobby pin sticking out on her whole head.

“I don't want an apology.”

You want to run away again. You want to fuck him in the bathroom of this venue. You want to fight him to the death. You want to stain his clean shaven cheek with your lipstick.

“Then what do you want? You're torturing me, and I would know, I’ve been tortured. This is like emotional though, not physical.”

Ignore whatever that means.

“I want to know what you would have done if you didn't leave.”

Fuck, why did you say that? Quick, think about escape routes, find fire exits. Run for Mount Rainier, burn down the airbnb. Goodbye!

“Well, not fucking leave,” he starts, lowering his voice to a whisper when the doors open to reveal all of the guests.

You just tilt your head, yeah, figures.

“You like everything bagels with chive and onion cream cheese, and I would have gotten you one. They make your breath smell like shit but I would have kissed you anyway just to prove a point.”

That's basically a confession of love right there.

You and Adrian walk down the aisle, a smile tugging at your lips, but you refuse to let it stick. The venue is beautiful, sage green and pink everywhere, a flower arch out of some perfume commercial and trendy reclaimed wood galore.

“Can we just talk?” he asks, his voice rising and you immediately try to shush him as discreetly as you can.

“Save a dance for me at the reception,” you whisper to him, preparing yourself to take your place in the line up at the altar.

“But I wanted to talk-”

You shush him again, a little harsher than you mean to, but he seems to get the idea.

“Oh! duh— I didn't bring a date! I don’t have a dance partner to begin with,” he answers, and the smile you’ve been trying to hide breaks through. You squeeze his arm as you leave his embrace and go to stand on your side.

You look out at the crowd, a lot of them unfamiliar faces. A few friends from Laura’s major and their partners, a few cousins and kids you met when you went to her summer house, a few of Gut’s friends on the other side (save for Chris Smith, thank fucking god, you would absolutely not be surviving this if you had to hear him say anything about your tits) and Gut’s cousins from Northern California. You stop for a moment on two empty chairs, for Gut and Adrian’s parents. Suddenly you're sixteen again, watching Adrian push you away for the comfort of shooting ranges instead of talking about his own parents' deaths as a result of a car chase gone wrong. Your eye’s flicker to Adrian, his eyes already set straight on you, his smile not matching how his eyes scan you. Gut enters and practically power walks down the aisle, and you mote that theres already a noticeable amount of lipstick on the corner of his lips.

The music changes.

The most beautiful woman you've ever seen walks down the aisle.

You can feel Adrian’s eyes on you the entire ceremony.

Adrian doesn't leave your side the entire cocktail hour, following you around and asking about all of your drink and snack preferences.

“I like pomegranate martinis, you know, a little Hades and Persephone thing going on?” You joke, and he orders you one from the drink station without a second glance.

“You mean like Hercules, the Disney movie?” he asks when he hands you your glass, hand steady and careful not to spill it.

You could scoff, or make a joke, or correct him, but instead you just smile and say, “Yeah, Adrian!” just to see his smile get even wider.

“Thats a really good movie, even if its for kids,” he muses.

“So what does Adrian Chase drink?”

He pauses and thinks it over for a minute.

“Yeungling,” he says, but he doesn't try to hide his grimace at the answer, his teeth bared and his eyes averted.

“So thats a lie,” you point out immediately over the rim of your glass. Adrian’s eyes dart over to where Laura and his brother are talking to some distant relative, definitely from Laura’s side. They're both the happiest you've ever seen them and you can’t help but to thank whatever cosmic power led them to meet.

“Yeah, Gut says a bay breeze is chick stuff,” Adrian admits, and you figured this was the case. He was always pulling you down candy aisles or getting the really sweet stuff as far as slurpee flavors went.

“Get the fucking bay breeze,” you tell him, and his whole face lights up. When was the last time this man got himself a girlie tropical drink?

“Okay! I mean, I've gotta hide it, but if you won’t judge me then I’ll do it,” he turns away from you, already ready to get the bartender’s attention again to order.

Theres a million things you want to say and all you can come up with is talking about his drinking habits? You only know where the guy works because you asked one of his cousins why the rehearsal dinner was at Fennell Fields and she told you he basically was allowed to book the back room for free because he worked there. You have so many things to ask him, so many things to say, and you ask him about a fucking drink.

“You were right, this is way better. You said we could talk now?” he asks, not hiding his eagerness as he talks with the bendy straw still between his teeth.

You exhale harshly, pushing the air through your nose, nodding.

“Yeah,” you mumble, not wanting to correct him that the cocktail hour technically isnt the reception. Thats an easy mistake to make, its close enough.

He nods his head towards the back doors, leading out to the gardens that a few people are at, but its much less crowded than the venue proper. At least hes giving you that safety net.

Each step feels heavier, and you once again curse the fact that Laura is a stilettos girl and made you be the same for a weekend. But the garden is beautiful, it looks like a small town in Washington’s version of the Versailles gardens, which you've never seen outside of Google images so it doesn't matter to miss out on the real thing.

He leads you to a bench, and pats it as he sits down on one end. You sweep the flow skirt under you and sit too, thankful to be off your feet after the past few hours.

"You can take those off if you want," he points his glass at your heels, "We can swap? They don't look comfy."

"We can't swap," you chuckle, but you unbuckle the heels and stretch your feet on the pavement.

“Well, we should talk,” he says, as if prompting you. The whole situation feels like there’s some kind of teleprompter you should be able to read, some magical thing to say, but there’s not. You don’t have words, just feelings. The anxiety, the joy, the ecstasy, the profound sadness and emptiness of the whole thing. There’s no way to put it into words. You don’t know how to word that you’ve forgotten him for maybe only ten of the months you’ve been away. Often wondering with other dates if Adrian was nicer than them, if he was dating. Wondering if Adrian was having a good life, if Adrian made friends. Seldom you forgot about him. And none of it you can voice without sounding worse than you already are.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down into your martini, the last few sips staring back at you.

“You’ve said that already. Can I talk?” he asks. You nod, still not meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “Like I said before, you didn't deserve that.”

“I kinda did,” you offer, shrugging.

“Will you stop?” he asks, his eyes widening behind his glasses. You only grimace and nod for him to continue.

“Sorry, anyway, you didn't deserve that. I know you had to have a good reason for leaving without saying anything. And I have to admit, I have kept tabs on you. Not in a creepy way,” he pauses, “Maybe in a creepy way, but not in an illegal way. When the library put up the article about your job in Gotham I took it because that's not real stealing, everything is free in the library.”

That's not how libraries work. You remember that article, you were put on a 30 under 30 article for art and design in Gotham; you just didn't know the article made its way back to Evergreen. It's sweet that he stole the article, even though he could have just bought a copy of the magazine.

You nod at him, needing him to continue.

“And then when I saw you it all just kinda, came up, you know?”

You do know. Its that same vacuum that sucked air from your lungs and slowed the time down in that fucking Hooters that now feels so much more meaningful and cosmic instead of being what it is. God, what a place for a reunion.

“Yeah, I know,” you say, your voice just above a whisper.

“I didn’t want to be mean, but I felt like I had to, I don’t know why.”

But you know why, you know exactly why.

“No it’s fine, I would have done the same,” you say, the knuckle of your free hand brushing the soft material of his suit pants.

“Yeah. I know,” he laughs, his smile overtaking all of his features. This feels normal, finally. You’re on the same wavelength.

“And I have to admit, I was a little jealous of Laura for taking my best friend position once I heard about you guys in college.”

You roll your eyes, letting yourself lean into him, his shoulder warm under his shirt. His arms look fucking good, with the crisp white

“Where’d your suit jacket go?” you ask, lowering your head to rest it against him.

“Gut’s gonna kill me,” he answers, and you can pretty much assume he’s lost it.

Laughter escapes your lips, loud and almost cackling, and you sit back up so as to not spill your drink as the laughter keeps coming. Adrian joins in, his eyes closed behind those glasses that haven't changed in the past fifteen years, laughter boisterous and light.

“Can we start over?” you interrupt your own laughter, setting your glass down on the ground next to the bench.

Adrian’s laughter subsides, and he goes quiet. He thinks about it for a second.

“Hmm, no,” he answers. Your hands fall limp in your lap, the skirt of your dress making a light swooshing noise at the contact. He could have punched you just now and it would have been less of a surprise to you.

“Oh,” you sigh, trying and failing to play it cool. Your shoulders feel heavy.

“I can’t start over with someone who’s seen my penis… or wore my retainer when she lost hers. Which was really gross,” he laughs, this time a subdued chuckle with a hint of nostalgia, and his eyes travel up and down your body again. You shiver under his gaze.

“Yeah, that was nasty,” you admit, but your teeth are straight no matter what.

You both go quiet, staring out at the treeline behind the venue. A cosmic reset. His hand scoots closer to you on the seat of the bench. The wind whistles and Party Rock Anthem is muffled and obscured by the glass doors leading back into the cocktail hour.

“So your brother and my college roommate, huh?” you break the stillness.

“Yeah, it's uh,” he looks down at his watch, “almost the end of cocktail hour. We get to walk in together, right?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “You made sure of that with the stunt you pulled this morning.”

If he's at all embarrassed, he doesn't show it.

You stand up, rolling your eyes.

“C’mon,” you say, holding your hand out to him.

A cosmic restart.

“And here is your wedding party!” the DJ announces over the microphone. The first couple dances out from under the sting light arch, offbeat and singing along. Then the second. After the third it's you and Adrian, and you can feel him starting to get antsy.

“We’ll be fine,” you reassure him, brushing your knuckles against his.

“Don’t hate me for this,” he whisper-shouts over the music.

You don't have time to even think about what that means because the couple in front of you dances out, but now you're anxious and rigid in your heels. You step into the spotlight, and your cue comes.

But Adrian has other plans, apparently, as he bends down to let his big strong arms (wow are you happy he grew these in your absence) circle your thighs and he hoists you over his shoulder.

You wave awkwardly at all the guests sat for dinner, cackling and slapping Adrian’s back to the beat of the music, Adrians laugh filling your space as he awkwardly dance- walks you across the dance floor to where the other wedding party members are standing and talking, waiting for dinner and the reception to officially begin. You feel giddy, like a late night drive in the summer after Adrian got his license, like when you walked into prom holding Adrian’s hand like you’d just won the lottery. His hands are warm, incredibly so, and his muscles are taut against you.

Fuck, you’d like to feel his muscles against you in - nope, hold that thought. You want to repair whatever this is with Adrian, not be a slut at your friend’s wedding.

When you finally reach your spot, he holds you there for a few moments, his big hands squeezing the backs of your thighs before he puts you down gently. You miss the feeling of his hands on you.

Dinner and more speeches go off wonderfully, and you're thankful you get to stay quiet this time, few eyes on you throughout all of the formal stuff, except for Laura. Sure, her main focus are the speakers and her new husband, but you've caught more than one sneaky glance your way, and you know exactly what that means. Before they leave for their honeymoon in Cabo, she's going to corner you and ask if you and her new brother-in-law are doing anything. And knowing her, she’ll already know the answer.

Adrian nudges you when the plates are cleared by the caterers during the first dance, drawing your eyes away from the happy couple dancing to him, apprehension apparent on his face. You realize that you really haven't spoken to him since he put you down.

“Do you want to… maybe, go out there when they’re done being a lovely couple?” he asks.

“I mean, yeah. I told you to save me a dance,” you respond, and Adrian’s shoulders visibly sag in relief like a weight has just been taken off of them.

And you're lucky enough that your anxiousness is spared that the next two songs and the family dances go by as quickly as they can, and the dancefloor opens for everyone with Vienna by Billy Joel. You look over to Adrian, winking as you rise from your seat, your hand reaching out to lead him away from the table.

He, to your surprise, grabs your hand firmly and lets you lead him out, and you become one of the first couples out on the dance floor. People trickle in after, but they're all peripheral noise and shapes as Adrian’s hands find purchase on your hips.

“I’m glad you're here without a date,” Adrian admits, without a hint of shame in his voice.

“I’m glad you're here without a date too, or else this whole weekend would have been a lot more complicated than it already has been,” you offer honestly, and lean into his swaying. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck absentmindedly.

“It wasn't that complicated,” he says, “We’re just bad at feelings.”

Understatement of the century, you think, but yeah, that checks out. You'd both had hurt feelings and both been weird about it. He hums along as he pulls you closer, your chests almost touching, the heat tangible between you. It's going to be hard to keep your cool around Adrian all night without wanting to be even closer, without wanting to kiss him. Maybe you can kiss him afterward.

“Did you become a Billy Joel fan while I was gone?” you joke, knowing that his taste was a lot more girl pop or harder rock when you last saw him.

“Billy Joel? I thought this was Bruno Mars!”

You want to ask him if he's joking but you already know the answer to that.

“Yeah, I mean they're easy to mix up,” you say, and he nods.

“I really missed you, Adrian,” you finally admit, “I wish I-”

“I wish that you would just let it go, troll under the bridge. Lets have fun before you have to leave again,” he interrupts.

“Well actually,” you readjust your arms, more of a hug than a dance now, “I’m here until next Monday, and I want to give you my number so we can keep in touch. Laura lives here now so…”

“So you have a reason to come out here?” he asks, hopeful.

“You’re a reason to come out here too, if you want to be,” you assure him, and his fingers dig into your hips, the material of the skirt bunching under his palms.

“Really? I do, I want to be-”

Fuck it, you think. Be a slut, do what you want.

You pull Adrian into a kiss, cutting him off mid sentence. He hums, the death of a word coming to die from his lips to yours, and his form melts around yours, his grasp on you growing firmer pressing you against him

“I knew it!” you hear Laura scream, “I fucking knew it!”

But you don't dare pull away from Adrian to laugh with the bride. He keeps swaying, off tempo to the song, but perfect for you. His lips curl up into a smile and his own laughter breaks the kiss, though.

“Do you want to go have sex again?” he asks bluntly, slightly breathless from his own laughter.

Unlike the other night, you're pushing him down onto the mattress tonight, Adrian eagerly shuffling further up onto the bed as you hike up your skirt to climb on top of him. You stop when you're over his hips, letting the skirt pool around him, your flimsy underwear leaving you feeling bare and hot against Adrian’s pants.

You pull him up by his tie, your mouths meeting in the space between you for another sloppy kiss, open-mouthed and wet. You both fall back into the sheets, kissing as your hands move to the knot of the tie. You fiddle with the knot, pulling it one way, then the other, trying to loosen it without breaking the kiss to look at it.

Cmon, cmon.

You feel it tighten against his collar instead of loosen. You have to pull away.

Adrian’s lips chase yours, not opening his eyes until he hears you speak.

“Get rid of the tie, I can't do it!” you demand, your hands instead starting to work at buttons lower down on his chest. He laughs, but his hands leave your body to pull the tie loose, and he does it easily. He slips the stupid thing off of his neck and flings it into the dimness of the room. You're free to unbutton all of his shirt now, pulling at where it's tucked into his pants to get it off of him.

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you think, as you finally get to take in his bare chest. He's got muscle, he's buff, with the lightest dusting of hair between his pectorals and light freckles that you remember.

You pull him back up to sit so he can remove his shirt and you find that to be the wrong move. As he sits up, his hips shift against your core, and you struggle to bite back a needy moan.

“Am I bothering you?” he asks.

“Nope,” you shake your head, biting down on your lip at the friction.

“No? Then you wouldn't mind if I…” he trails off, tilting his hips up into yours again. This time, you feel him rock hard against you, and you whine desperately. Fucking bastard. Adrian chuckles, and you decide to get your revenge.

You push him back down on the mattress the moment the offending shirt is shed, latching your lips onto the expanse of his neck, kissing a wet trail in your wake as he gasps and grunts below you.

“I was so mean to you,” he gasps as you bite at his collarbone, “Do you want to punish me for that?”

Who the fuck is Adrian fucking? Is the first thought through your head. Punish him? What kind of kinky shit does he get up to?

“Don’t wanna punish you,” you dismiss, “Just wanna have you.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, his lips dragging against your hairline as he pulls you lower on top of him until your chests meet, “Still on the table, though.”

You'll keep that in mind.

“Get this dress off,” he groans, equally struggling with the zipper until he finally just rips the hook and eye at the top of it, the zip sliding down your back easily for him after that. You’re definitely going to have to get that repaired, but that’s the last thing on your mind when Adrian is pulling the material off of you half crazed, trying to have you bare against him as soon as he can. He pulls the dress up over your head, maybe not the easiest way to discard it, your arms struggling to untangle from the straps as he unwraps you. You help him push all of the bunched up material across your chest and over you, finally breathing a sigh of relief when the bodice finally comes off of you and you can both drop the dress off the edge of the bed, and his hands immediately working their way to your chest.

His thumb brushes against the faded mark on your breast that he left the other night, sending a shiver down your spine. You're sure he's about to leave even more.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moans, squeezing at you while his eyes take you in. You’re glad now that you opted for the ‘sexier’ of the no-show underwear you picked out under the dress.

“Thought you said women don’t like being called hot,” you joke, recalling his previous words.

“Right, pretty,” he corrects himself, and you have to shake your head.

“I’m fucking with you,” you laugh.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he retorts, and quickly flips you over, pinning you underneath him.

“So so pretty like this,” he whispers, his hands trailing down your body, stoking the fires of your arousal.

You’ll keep that in mind, too.

You grab at the sheets, balling the cotton in your fists as Adrian’s hands finally make their way between your thighs. He presses his fingers to your clothed cunt, and you both sigh at the contact.

“Please touch me,” you beg, all the boldness gone from your tone now that he’s got you like this.

“I’ll do you one better!” he says, and moves himself down the bed, removing his hand only so he can remove your panties.

“Can I taste you?” he asks, repositioning you for his own easy access. You nod, tilting your hips up towards him. He puts your legs on his shoulders, and slowly creeps in.

His hot breath fans out over your cunt, his glasses fogging as he looks up at you, the way his cheeks and nose scrunch lets you know that he’s grinning like a maniac.

Without warning, he darts his tongue out, licking between your folds and only stopping when the tip of his tongue meets your clit.

You whine, needy and unexpected, and try to quiet yourself again. You feel him as he exhales through his nose, maybe laughing at your desperation, and moves his tongue; small, deliberate licks against your clit that have you hitching your breath with each one.

“Please,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the sheets so tight you could rip them. Adrian dives in like a man starved, his tongue dipping into you and the tip of his nose bumping against your clit. He licks into you like your cunt is what keeps him alive, like the water of life. You moan, languid and loud; his big hands flatten out, one against your stomach and the other along the underside of your breast.

Where the fuck did Adrian Chase learn this? Maybe you don't want to know, maybe you just want to enjoy the skills for what they are. His lips move in tandem with his tongue, not hiding the slurping sounds his mouth makes; fuck, he worships you.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, at first a slow bubble, and then a sudden boil. Your moans turn almost to screams as you shake under him, your thighs tightening around his head.

Adrian’s having none of that, though. He removes his hands from you, moving them to your thighs to hold them in place. Without the leverage of your legs, your back arches almost painfully, leaning into your orgasm as it shakes your entire system, Adrian just happily working you through it, gradually slowing down his mouths movements as your breathing becomes more and more regulated.

“Good?” he asks, when he finally moves his mouth away from you. Everything from his nose to his chin is soaked in you.

“Y-yeah,” you pant, still catching yourself.

“Good, then you’re ready for me,” he says, smirking as he untangles from your thighs and moves back up. He kisses your cheek, decidedly not letting you taste yourself at this moment. Somehow, in your haze, you hadn't noticed that he’d gotten rid of his pants.

You already feel him, heavy and hard, resting against your entrance, and immediately you need more no matter how sensitive you might be.

“I’ve been ready,” you tell him, and he chuckles.

“Not for this,” and he pushes in to the hilt. He gives you no mercy, like he said he wouldn't. He gives you no time to adjust to his size. You yelp, both in surprise and in pleasure, and he picks up his pace as if your noise was permission.

“Fuck, prettiest girl I’ve ever known, all laid out for me, all for me,” he babbles, his lips just barely brushing yours as he stays close.

“All for you,” your voice comes out in a moan, all control of your volume and tone lost; the fire already building in you again.

“Gonna give you everything, all for you,” he says, like a promise, his own voice strained.

He doesn't hold back in his pace, pushing in all the way each time, deep and hard, a slamming pace. He's not gentle, but the way that he looks at you is full of all of the affection and sweetness he holds for you. This is your best friend. This is… whatever he is beyond that.

“Adrian, kiss me,” you beg, wanting to seal yourself to him, to connect.

“But I might taste-”

“I don’t care.”

That's all he has to hear, and once the kisses start, they don't stop. He moves a little awkwardly at first, his pace faltering slightly to adjust for this connection, but he finds his rhythm again. He thrusts sharply, your hips moving to meet him as best you can, your bodies moving in sync with your pleasure. He quickens his pace, his kisses getting harsher, more bruising. Adrian is a kisser, you realize. He likes it like this.

“I’m gonna—,” he gasps after his harshest thrust yet, and you grab his hips, holding him close.

“Go ahead,” you say, breathless yourself and ready to lose your own composure.

He pumps into you harder, his hips snapping against you sure to bruise. Adrian’s hand leaves your hip to move his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick circles that choke out sobs from your throat. It's hard to hold on, both physically to his hips but also to your composure. Every thought of him, him, him, and the fire inside of you that fights to escape.

“Adrian, please,” you beg, voice watery and desperate, and he obeys, speeding up his movements until you scream, and shake, and lose everything. Your mind whites-out. No thoughts but the specific shade of green of his eyes.

And when you come back you feel full, sticky and hot. Adrian holds you tightly, still inside you, snuggling you close and cradling your body to him. He's shushing you and pressing kisses into your skin, muttering sweet nothings to soothe you. Fuck, thats never happened before.

“That was good?” you ask, breathless laughter in your tone.

“Now I know you have to be joking with me,” he says, pulling back slightly, “That was mind-blowing! Literally.”

He pulls away more, and you reach out to reel him back into your embrace. Adrian reassures you he’ll be right back. Even after all of this, the tiniest doubt creeps in, and when he backs out of the room, boxers in hand, you pull the sheets up over you tightly.

He comes back into the room with two glasses of water in only his boxers, a sight you want to get used to. He places the glasses down on the nightstand and throws the covers over the both of you, enveloping you in their warmth and his. Adrian runs like a furnace.

“Can you stay this time?” Your voice is small, vulnerable. Adrian’s warm hand cups your cheek, and he shimmies closer to you under the covers.

“How much does a flight to Gotham cost?” he asks, deadly serious.

You balk at his question.

“Adrian, you can't uproot your life for me,” you insist, feeling bad suddenly about the way you continue to cling to him, hands pressed into his back to hold him to you.

“Psh, who said that? I figure maybe Evergreen can survive without me for a week or so. I wanna take you on a real date,” he snuggles closer, curling the blankets further over you. Your own little world, a little bubble just for the two of you.

You’ll remind him that Gotham is currently surviving a week without you, too, in the morning.

“I’d like that,” you say, sleep sinking into the edges of your voice.

“Get some rest,” he says, sounding just as sleepy, his head feeling heavier against you, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

He is.

#adrian chase x reader #fanfic #adrian chase #freddie stroma

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sandy-the-glader · 9 months ago

Note

Hi!! I hope this is okay!! If not, no worries!! 💜💜💜 (I love you lots!)

Can I please request an Adrian Chase x fem!innocent!reader Where while Adrian is out and about doing his Vigilante work he comes across a bunch of criminals in a warehouse, and after they’re all “taken care of”, he hears someone crying and finds a girl hiding behind a pile of the criminal’s stuff, and she’s handcuffed to something over there, so she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. She’d obviously be completely terrified of Vig, but as we know, he is very good at reading a person and would clearly see that she is innocent, and had been taken by the bad guys. Normally he would just set the innocent girl free and be on his way, having already taken care of the bad guys, however… He had unfortunately taken off his mask right before finding her, and had forgotten to put it back on, so she has seen his face. Panicking, he just picks her up, and takes her to his car with him, driving straight to the 11th Street Kids HQ, carrying in a terrified Y/n, he himself all panicked, and the team is like “wtf did you do????” “Did you abduct her???” And he’s just like, “No no, I saved her! But then she saw my face… So I guess, yes??”

Lmao it’s honestly a mess, but the team takes care of Y/n’s injuries, apologies for Adrian’s behavior lmao, and lets her stay there until she has recovered, as not only is she hurt, but very scared. After a while of staying with them, she gradually starts warming up to Adrian, him desperately trying to get her not to be afraid of him anymore (for a while there she was terrified of him), and their relationship eventually grows into a more romantic and intimate one🥺🥺🤧

Afraid of Me

*Not my gif*

Character: Adrian Chase x SoftFem!Reader

Type: Fluff and sorta angsty

Length: 5.4K (a bit long)

Summary: Request above <3

Trope: Strangers to friends to lovers, Slow-burn

A/N: LONG A/N!! Sorry this took forever I've been busy with a lot of stuff and I just haven't had any time but I worked on this whenever I could. Btw again I bent the request a little bit (I'm not sure if I wrote what you wanted for it and I apologize ) so I hope it’s okay I just made this go over the whole period of time the show does and like more so there's more time for a bond to be built lol

I heard a quick gunshot followed by another. Tears continued to fall from my eyes as I was tied to some random wall in some warehouse, Apparently, I was not supposed to come across two men selling heroin to each other but here I am. They claimed I saw too much, took me, and tied me up. Who even does that?

I just wanted to return to my apartment and read this new book I bought. That's all I had planned for my day anyway. Yet now I was tied to a pole in some wet and cold warehouse with random crates surrounding me. I tugged and tried to break from but it was helpless. I cried and sniffled as I continued to try but there was no avail.

Were those shots from them or someone else? Please god, let someone save me. I had been here for hours and I was scared of what they had planned for me. They already hit me pretty hard over the head which caused a small trail of blood to fall from my temple.

I heard loud and heavy footsteps coming towards me. I braced myself and waited for the figure to come around the crate to where I was. He was wearing a teal suit, with blood covering it. It was Vigilante. Should I be happy or terrified? He's a killer but isn't he supposed to be a hero?

"Fuck oh my god." He gasped slapping a gloved hand over his mouth. He was missing one exceptionally important part of his suit. His mask. That must have been why he was so frantic.

In all honesty, he looked nothing like I always pictured him. He was lanky with glasses and he looked really young. He looked mid-twenties though I had a feeling he was older. He honestly looked nerdy.

"I'm sorry. I really won't tell anyone who you are. I-I mean I don't even know your name." I stammered. He didn't care though because he continued to curse.

"Fuck fuck fuck. This is so not good." he groaned. The man ran a thick hand through his hair while bouncing back and forth. "Umm." He pondered confused about what to do. "Shit, I can't let you go." My eyes widen. He already has saved me why not let me go on my merry way? He took off his glasses and put his mask back on.

He came over to me and examined my situation. He crouched down and started untieing the rope that kept me on the pole but didn't bother with the ones around my hands or feet.

I was about to thank him for his acts but he picked me up and started to carry me out. Oh, he's actually not letting me go.

"What are you doing!?" I panicked. I started wiggling my body in his grasp then he held me tighter. "Where are you taking me? This hurts." He continued to keep walking until we reached his car a couple of feet from the warehouse.

Holding me with one hand, he opened the door to his back seat and tossed me in. Judging by his face, he didn't mean it to be as aggressive but it was enough to get me to shut up. He slammed the door and rushed over to the driver's seat.

This is it. After all that's happened today I'm being kidnapped by Vigilante and who knows what's going to happen. I guess the law doesn't apply when it comes to him. I actually can't believe it right now.

The entire car ride was silent. Not a sound from the man or from me. It was terrifying. All I could think of was what was going to happen to me. it took him forever to get to his destination and when we got there I realized it was some rundown video store. That couldn't be where we're going right?

"Guy's we got a fucking situation!" Adrian called opening the door with the girl in his hands. The whole team in the building stared at him with wide 'What the fuck' like eyes.

"Who the fuck is that?" Economos asked adjusting his glasses and leaning over his desk.

Adrian (not so carefully) dropped the woman on the floor making her yelp out in shock and pain.

"Did you just kidnap a girl?" Adebayo's eyes widened at the sight.

"No Adebayo!" He yelled defensively. "Okay, well technically yes but-" He was cut off quickly.

"And why did you bring her here?" Harcourt burst out running a hand through her blonde hair.

"Okay, I was doing my badass stuff, right? Like beating up these bad dudes and I found her behind some crates." They all stared at him waiting for him to continue. "And since I didn't know these dudes took a hostage I took my mask off and that's-" He removed his mask again and replaced the glasses on his face. "Really bad." He grimaced.

"Adrian what the hell dude you could have left her. She would have never turned you in. Look at her. No offense." Chris said. She stayed silent like she never heard the comment in the first place.

She was scared to death, trembling on the floor with small tear streaks down her face. Some of the tears mixed in with blood on the left side of her face. She looked innocent as could be and she definitely didn't deserve to be in this mess.

"Dude what the fuck!" He shouted at Chris. "Now she knows my real name! You have so fucked me!" He continued to cure which didn't make the girl feel any better.

"I did not fuck you! Besides it's your fault for bringing her here anyway." Chris furrowed his eyebrows looking back and forth between the petrified girl and his idiotic friend.

"What is happening out here?" Murn came out from one of the rooms and immediately regretted his decision. "We're supposed to be working on the project butterfly case what are you doing Chase?" He asked sternly.

"Oh, now she knows about Project Butterfly!" Harcourt placed a hand on her forehead.

"Well, it's not like I can kill her because she's innocent" The girl's face drained at the mention of death. "and we can't get rid of her because she might tell someone who I am!" Adrian wined out. He was finally right about one thing.

"She also might screw our plan up," Murn muttered trying to think of a reasonable thing to do with this girl.

"Then what do you suppose we do with her?" Economos folded his arms. The girl had been silent the entirety of this conversation but she finally piped up.

"Um.." Her voice caught everyone's attention and they turned their heads to look at her. "I-I can clean and o-organize around here." She stammered. "I can help you guys just please don't kill me." She pleaded. They all non-verbally agreed she had been through enough judging by the look of blood running from her temple and dirt caking her shirt.

"Yeah that honestly could be useful," Harcourt spoke. She looked around the room to only be met with agreeing faces. She let out another deep sigh before Murn spoke up.

"You will work the same hours as us and will get paid a fair amount." He folded his arms tightly over his chest. He didn't ask he just demanded she work.

"I'm also a fast learner and I can help you with anything you need. I don't have a current job so that would be perfect." She tried to look at the bright side of the situation. I can work for money but this is a destructive and hard-core business she pondered. "And since this is a very um dangerous job I just so happened to be trained in medical care." She offered.

"Oh, sweet! That's perfect so now dyed bear can stop doing such a shit job of stitching me up!" Chris smiled.

"Hey!" Economos protested. It was perfectly fine he thought.

"What about my living situation? C-can I still stay In my apartment?" She asked. They all looked around at each other because that was one thing they hadn't thought of. If they let her stay, she could always tell people without them knowing.

"If we let you stay in your apartment, you must realize he" Murn pointed at Adrian Chase himself. "has to keep watch of you? He somehow always knows if someone is doing something they shouldn't be." She nodded slowly. "And if you tell anyone and I mean anyone you will be terminated immediately, do you understand?" He spoke firmly making her hands tremble.

"I understand." She muttered.

"Now that everyone is done with this whole situation I suggest you get back to work," Murn concluded walking back to his office annoyed with the inconvenience.

I sat there absolutely stunned at what just happened. I just got myself into a bat shit crazy job. I mean I don't even know these people and one of them literally abducted me. This is not normal.

Project butterfly? Are these guys all heroes or something? I already was aware of Vigilante's existence and somewhat Peacemaker but there's a lot more than just those two.

"Oh my god, he didn't even untie you." The blonde-haired woman spoke in surprise. I didn't say anything because really what was I supposed to say? "I'm Harcourt." She kneeled beside me. She opened a switchblade and sliced through the ropes binding my hands together and then my feet. "Come on let's get you cleaned up. She went and collected the first aid kit from one of the desks on the left side of the room and motioned for me to sit at her desk. "What's your name?" She asked.

"Y/n L/n." I said quietly as I stared into my lap anxiously.

"Come sit Y/n." She said calmly trying to make me comfortable.

I stood up uneasily and almost fell back down. I steadied myself and carefully walked over to the chair and sat down gently. She pulled out a couple of cotton swabs and some alcohol. She poured the strong liquid onto the small ball.

"I'm sorry about him." Harcourt hummed taking the cotton swab to my forehead.

"Hm?" I replied softly.

"Adrian." She looked me in the eyes. "He just isn't all there sometimes." She mumbled. She tossed the bloodied-up swab in the trash and put a bandage over the small cut.

I looked over at Vigilante who I guess was named Adrian. He was talking to Peacemaker and he looked perfectly innocent. Not even an hour earlier he was tossing me into the back of his car. Jesus, what did I really get myself into? Not only does he have to escort me home, but now I have to work with him. He's a psycho!

"She has a point you know." The woman I was pretty sure was Adebayo spoke up. I glanced at her and she nodded trying to make me realize it. "He's a really good guy you just have to get to know him. I get it he basically kidnapped you but he's stupid in everything but fighting."

"Yeah okay," I mumbled softly. I don't care what they say now I can't trust him after what he did unless he really proves he's trustworthy. At least these people actually had the decency to tend to my wounds.

She continued to bandage and take care of every cut I had on my arms and face. I enjoyed her already because she was delicate to me and cared about my feelings. Pretty quickly she finished and put all the materials away.

"Come over here I think we found a box of old clothes you could change in." She led me back into the store and I could feel Adrian's eyes burning into my back.

"Dude she's afraid of me!" I panicked at Chris looking him dead in the eye. I waited for her to leave before I talked to my best friend about the whole thing.

"Well, I mean you did throw her in the back of your car. Chicks don't really dig that. Unless they're like hardcore." Okay yeah obviously I fucked up big time but I was under a lot of pressure and I wasn't doing what I should have!

"Dude I didn't know what else to do." I whined

"I mean you just gotta make things right with her I guess. I don't know I usually don't have to apologize to girls." He shrugged his shoulders. Great okay how am I supposed to do that when she's obviously afraid of me? Fuck. "Listen when you walk her to her apartment just be like 'Sorry for kidnapping you in my shitty car that was a pretty bad thing to do!' or something like that." I let out a heavy sigh. This is never going to work.

I came back out to the main room in a sweatshirt with the video store's logo on it and sweatpants that were longer than my actual legs with the same logo down the side of it. I held my original clothes in my arms and I was quiet.

What do I do now? Go home? How am I supposed to feel safe in my own home when I know that guy is watching me?

"Listen." Harcourt grabbed my attention. "You can take as much time as you need before you go home. I know that was probably a traumatic experience for you so let me know when you want to leave." She spoke as if she had read my mind. I nodded. "Also we have your address so we can get you home easily." Okay well, I told her my name and that was all it took to find out where I lived. Spectacular.

"What are my work hours?" I still can't believe I got myself to work for these people.

"Just don't get here any later than 8. Hours are different every day. Since you now work here I guess I should tell you who everyone is." She pointed to Peacemaker and Vigilante who were still chatting near the corner of the room "Chris and Adrian ." Then to the other man in glasses. "Economos." The guy in the other room that I could see through the glass. "Murn." Finally, she pointed at the last girl which I already knew. "and Adebayo."

I stood around for not too much longer before very anxiously describing to Harcourt my wishes to leave. She understood fully and went over to Adrian to make him take me home. He looked at me with some sort of care in his eyes but I just couldn't look at him so my eyes fell back to the sight of the floor.

"Come on kid." Harcourt motioned with her head to leave out the door with the man. I walked out the door and the cool air hit me as the sun started to sink down below the horizon.

One car ride and then I'm home. This time I got to sit in the front seat of his car instead of being thrown in the back like a doll. I secured my seatbelt and then just slumped against the car door. All I could really do was pay attention to the passing cars outside and the quiet buzz of the radio.

I also noticed the pleasing smell of his cologne that filled the car or how he hummed along to the Taylor Swift song on the radio. Someone like him is a swiftie?

"I'm sorry that I kidnapped you." Adrian broke the silence between us in an attempt to apologize. I ignored it and kept looking out the window. It was a long day and I genuinely couldn't tell if he was being sincere or was just trying to make me feel like he cared. "Please talk to me. I know I fucked up." I glanced over at him; his eyes flickered between the road and me. "Hey." He reached for my hand and flinched away with wide eyes and a quickened heartbeat.

His eyes lit up in sorrow. He looked like he felt bad. He backed off and for the rest of the car ride, he didn't talk anymore. There was so much tension in that car I felt like I was going to suffocate. I could barely look at him. I was still scared of his guts.

Every turn and stop made me think over and over about the events that occurred today. It was nauseating.

Finally walking through the door of my apartment left me with this feeling I couldn't describe. All of the events that happened today were fucking unbelievable.

The book I was planning to read was on my bed and was quickly tossed on my side table with a small thud. I sprawled out on my bed not bothering to do anything else tonight.

What. The. Fuck.

It's my first day on the job and my teammate already hit someone with a car. A van actually. I got to the disguised video store a bit after seven and Murn described the plan to me. Since I wasn't significant to the plan I just stayed in the car with a first-aid kit just in case things went south. And oh they did.

"Is he dead!?" I stood in the van looking at Economos dumbfounded. He didn't reply at first he was just making shocked quivering noises.

"I... I don't know?" My eyes widened as he started to get out of the car holding a crowbar tightly in his hands. I left the kit on the seats (since I had been fidgeting with the latches the whole ride) and followed him for support or something like that. Maybe I thought I could help. He inspected inside the car which he had hit fully force.

Judomaster was crawling on the ground in front of the car slowly. Economos inched closer and closer to him holding the crowbar. He whacked him once over the head and jolted backward then his body went limp. We waited and sure enough, he kept crawling. He hit him again and he still was moving. I slapped a hand over my mouth as he repeatedly hit him on the back of the head. He poked him a few times like you would a bug making sure he wasn't moving.

"Oh my god." He let out. "Fuck yeah!" He turned around to high-five me. I lightly returned it. "Don't worry he's not dead." He said sensing my shock. "They're hardcore it takes a lot."

"Well, what do we do with him now?" I looked at Economos for ideas. We ended up tying him up and throwing him in the back of the van. I watched him intensely. When would this dude wake up? I really hope not any time soon. Murn radioed us and let us know that they would be coming back soon with of course Vigilante. Economos drove us back to the spot we were supposed to be in and awaited their arrival.

"You're pretty cool." I complimented him. He was taken aback by the positive words.

"Well thank you." He adjusted his glasses with a bright smile.

We waited for 15 minutes until they finally arrived and loaded themselves into the van. Everyone looked untouched besides Harcourt's messy hair, a couple cuts on Peacemaker's face and Vigilante crying about his bleeding toe. I grabbed the medical kit I had set down on the seats just minutes before and rushed to Adrian's side.

I motioned for him to move his foot up to where I needed it. He hesitated for a moment but then proceeded to lift his foot into my lap. I scoped out his injured toe and I pulled out the needed materials.

Yikes. I was definitely glad that I stayed in the van. Adrian’s foot jerked in my lap as I tried to get some alcohol.

"Hold still!" I complained to Adrian trying to hold his leg down from wriggling under my grasp. From the looks of it, this man had managed to get half of his pinky toe cut off. That is such a bizarre thing for torture.

“It hurts so bad though!” He wined when I took the alcohol to his foot. He had obviously had worse happen to him but this?

“It could have been worse,” I said. My hold got tighter on his leg since it kept jolting side to side.

“Pft yeah, this was nothing!” He lied as if he hadn’t been complaining two seconds ago. “I’ve gone through worse in DND.” A small smile appeared on my cheeks. DND huh? Who knew the big strong Vigilante was a total nerd? And a swiftie...

“One of my characters got their arm bitten off by a bear so I’d say you’re okay,” I said. His eyes lit up at the mention that I had played before." Just sit still it's about to get worse." His eyes clenched shut.

"Oh shit!" He screamed out making everyone irritated in the van. I shushed him gently with a soft hand on his leg. He shut up very quickly but his body still tensed occasionally with every sting. I held his foot carefully as I bandaged it up thoroughly.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked. I still didn't dare to look him in the eye.

"Yeah, but I can wait until we get back." He tried to act tough but I could hear the pain in his voice. I noticed a couple of holes in his shirt. Maybe I could fix his shirt while I'm at it. God am I being too nice?

I mean I'm trying to think of the bright side of what happened yesterday and honestly, it didn't seem so bad anymore. He saved my ass and I'm having a paying job. I can only imagine the pay is fantastic for what these people have me doing. I sat next to Adrian. I was feeling a little less scared of him now when I thought about him like that. Even through the visor, his eyes were peeled onto me. It felt like since I got here they never left.

Getting back to headquarters I couldn't get Adrian to get out of the van without making a scene. I dragged him quickly into the store so he wouldn't draw any attention from people lurking around In the streets. I pulled him by his hand and made him sit in the closest chair I could spot. He whined and moaned obnoxiously loud. I knew the stories and new articles about the man. He was tough and put up a big fight, he never lost against criminals.

I grabbed the larger bandages from an area Harcourt showed me just this morning and also some more alcohol.

"Show me where you're hurt." I looked at him curious about what else had happened to him. He pulled off his chest plate and revealed the deep stab wound in his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt clearly revealed the bloody mess it left. My eyes widen. "You kept this from me until now?"

"I could handle this. The toe I'm not entirely sure." I cleaned and bandaged the wound with intense concentration. I was careful and sure not to cause any more harm after this long night. "Thank you." He said softly. I just nodded and didn't reply with anything else.

The days passed as we worked on this project and the days were long and there was a lot of work to do. I didn't have almost any free time anymore so it was hard to make time for friends I actually wanted to talk to or things I really wanted to do. Adrian continued to try his hardest to earn my trust and befriend me.

I started to warm up to him crazy enough. He did little things for me I thought were sweet. Sometimes he brought me breakfast or he would try to learn about things I liked so he could talk about them with me. I started to trust him more and more as the mission proceeded because he was really good company. He would talk and I would listen.

A couple of days after the whole 'Adrian getting his pinky toe almost cut off' situation he got himself arrested. I didn't even know until Harcourt talked to me about it and what Adebayo said to him. I felt bad for him because as much as I thought I disliked him, I hated to hear he was where he was and how Adebayo literally manipulated him into doing it.

The night he got out he showed up at my apartment because he still needed to check up on me and since he hadn't been able to. For the first time, I felt comfortable enough to hug him. So I did, I wrapped my arms gently around his torso and gave a small squeeze. We stood like that for a minute before he quietly wished me a 'goodnight' without any further words. That was the kindest moment we had ever shared with one another

Then the next day we had another mission. Since all this time has passed, I had been informed on what a Butterfly fully was. At first, it was entirely confusing until I realized these were tiny alien butterflies here to kill us. I know it sounds like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.

I had to sit through a whole meeting in the morning next to Adrian where he (the whole time) joked with me. It felt sorta nice honestly. He never stopped being friendly and I just kind of started to accept it more.

And the whole mission went by quickly.

"Oh my god." I blurted when everyone arrived back in the truck. Peacemaker and Economos were fully drenched head to toe in blood, Harcourt had a good amount on her, and Adebayo and Adrian had little to none on them.

"We fought a fucking gorilla!" Adebayo exploded with astonishment. Jesus, sometimes I wish I didn't sit in the car the whole time.

"Economos is the fucking man." Peacemaker clapped him on the back with a proud grin. I did miss a lot if those two are now getting along.

"All the blood is the gorillas right?" I asked startled for a second considering the amount.

"Yeah we're all fine," Harcourt said tiredly.

"At least no one's arm got bitten off, like your DND character right?" Adrian nudged me in the side and sat down next to me. Sure I had only told him a few days ago about that but it still made me happy that he had remembered that tiny detail.

"Right." I smiled. Chris sat in the front and started playing music like he had at the beginning of the ride. I sang along with the rest of my team members to 11th Street Kids and I actually started to enjoy my work a little more.

I looked over at Adrian who was dancing like a dork. He looked so adorable? He was playing air drums and making up random dances as he went. I don't know why but I started to not hate him anymore. I started seeing this more personal side of him. Not Vigilante but Adrian.

"C'mon dance," Adrian whispered in my ear and nudged me again. I started to sway along with the group.

Later that night Harcourt made a group chat with all of us and sent a photo she had taken in the van. I set the book down I had finally got to reading beside me on my bed and picked up my phone.

Everyone was dancing in the van but on the right side, you could see me looking at Adrian with the sweetest smile on my face. The chat is filled with different emojis. The only number I had was Harcourts but from the merman emoji, I already knew it was Adrian. I liked his message and sent a fitting emoji to match the others.

I set my phone down and continued reading with a big smile. I never seemed to stop today.

It was the final day of the project and I wasn’t allowed to go. I wasn’t entirely complaining since this job was so bizarre but I was also disappointed. I mean all this build up and I don’t even get to go. They said it would be safer for me and of course, I understood.

But as the night carried on and the morning came through I was nervous. I had no texts or word from anyone. Sure, they still could be busy and have to do some other stuff before texting me but what if?

I heard a rushed-sounding knock on my door which threw me off. I ran to my door since the person decided to not stop knocking.

"What do you want?" I hissed as I threw open the door but I was only met with Adrian. My eyes soften upon seeing him. Oh, thank god he’s alive. "Adrian. Hi." I paused when noticing he was in a pair of shorts and a nursing gown. "Come inside." I ushered him in with wide eyes and closed the door quickly behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"Listen I jumped out of a hospital building to be her so-"

"Adrian!" I scolded him for being careless. I had started to really enjoy him I didn't need him being so careless all the time.

"Shut up. Sorry, but I need to tell you this." I stared at him silently with folded arms awaiting what he was about to tell me. "Okay, so after almost dying, I know what you're about to say please just wait. After almost dying, I realized had more feelings for you than I have ever had for someone and that's like a lot for me." He stepped closer to me. "I had to tell you those feelings just in case I actually died sometime. But now I'm scared if you reject me because of the whole kidnapping thing when we first met and usually I would be okay with rejection but I don't feel usual with you." He rambled and his hands made several confusing gestures along the way.

Everything about him told me he was being truthful. His hands were trembling with nervousness, He literally came from a hospital to tell me this and he just had that look on his face.

The feelings from the other day came rushing back. I really enjoyed being with genuine Adrian. The time we spent together over the course of this project was enjoyable. I noticed small things about him like the way he always made sure to keep an eye on me and was careful not to get me into anything super dangerous. He had become almost like a personal guard.

He even taught me how to use weapons, and also never overstepped my boundaries. So yeah maybe I developed a crush on my kidnapper co-worker.

"Why are you looking at me like that I'm like really nervous right now." He asked.

"Because I feel the same way. Even though you did totally kidnap and traumatize me." I nudged him smiling but he didn't return it. "Adrian I was playing with you. But I really do feel the same way." He let out a long breath. I was quite sure he had stopped breathing for a little while.

"Oh thank god." Adrian stepped closer and picked me up in his arms as he kissed me deeply. I've kissed a couple of times in the past but never did it feel as amazing as this. I held him close to me as if he would slip away again. He pulled away to look closely at my face.

"Just because you kissed me doesn't mean I won't scold you for almost dying." I glared at him but he just smiled kindly and kissed me again.

"If I keep. Kissing you then. I won't. Get yelled at." He said in between kisses making me start to laugh.

“Don’t scare me like that again Chase.” I shook my head kissing him passionately once more. I could get used to this feeling.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x y/n #adrian chase fanfic #vigilante #vigilante x you #freddie stroma #freddie stroma x reader #in such a vigilante brain rot again please help #adrian chase x reader #soft angst #fluff

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frankiethedarkangel · 5 months ago

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Peacemaker Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Cum-petition (coming soon) 🔞

Adrian Chase/Vigilante 🔞

I met Vigilante aka Freddie Stroma!!

Not Your Typical Mission

Sinister Secrets

Chris Smith/Peacemaker 🔞

Not So Friendly Visits

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training4theapocalypse-backup · 2 years ago

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On Her Majesty’s Supersonic Service (Adrian Chase x Reader)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: SMUT, Descriptions of murder, Descriptions of violence, Verbal Humiliation, Light bondage, Duct tape, Tent sex, Accidental voyeurism, Bodily fluids, Dubious consent, Characters mistakenly assume non-consent

Summary: Immediately after the attack on the Glan Tai bottling plant, Task Force X sets up camp overnight to rest before the road trip home. Vigilante offers to help you, an MI6 agent working under Amanda Waller, find creative ways to navigate drawbacks of your new superpowers.

A/N: Not a fan of Y/N so there's an original character with powers sort of similar to the DC comics Black Canary

Masterlist

Chapter 1: For Your Ears Only

“Pretty please do it again?”

Vigilante is cross-legged opposite you on the other side of the bonfire. He eagerly lines up empty beer bottles and looks at you expectantly. You don’t hate him exactly but you do find literally every single aspect of his personality annoying. He is so irritatingly enthusiastic and let's face it, a psychopath. Your poor eyes have never rolled so much or so often when you spend time with Vigilante.

He’s like a golden retriever puppy personified- if puppies were armed to the hilt and trained to kill with zero regard for human life. And despite your alias, you’re more like a black cat than a Blackbird. Cautious, quiet, sometimes deadly- you possess a distinct lack of tolerance for dogs like Vigilante.

Tonight though… tonight you have a little more patience for him than usual. Perhaps it’s the fact that he saved your life just hours earlier. Or maybe it’s just the beer you’ve been sinking since your very close brush with death. Normally you’d turn your nose up at American beer, but you definitely needed a drink after today’s mission.

He is waiting expectantly and even though you’ve never seen his face before, you can tell that he has a goofy grin under his mask.

“Will you leave her alone for five minutes?” Harcourt finishes the bottle she’s been sipping and tosses it into the rubbish pile. But she’s less stern than usual, the massacre today brought your team closer together and the mood is still light.

“Yeah, Blackbird, if you need me to kick his ass just yell,” says Adebayo

You smile and raise your eyebrows.

“Uhhh, right. The supersonic scream thing. Well, come bang on the side of my tent if you need me.”

She strains as she tries to stand up with difficulty. Adebayo had had a narrow escape inside Glan Tai - a giant gorilla had knocked her aside and she severely sprained her ankle.

“You won’t be kicking any ass tonight Adebayo, not with that injury.” says Economos, pulling her up. She wraps one arm around Economos’ shoulders and her other around Harcourt’s. “G’night you three,” he says. You lift your hand to give them a short wave in return. They help her limp to her tent before retiring to their own respective ones.

You hope she’s okay. Out of this team of Americans that Waller has ordered you to team up with, you find Adebayo to be the least grating.

You, Vigilante and Chris remain by the campfire. Vigilante rests his face on his cupped hands and looks at you. Like a psychopathic masked cherub.

“C’mon Birdie, just these three bottles? Please?”

You roll your eyes again- you’re going to pull an eye muscle if you spend any more time around Vigilante- his incessant chatting makes you grind your teeth. Mostly because it’s extremely irritating but also because you’re a little bit jealous. Your fellow MI6 agents used to complain that you talked too much and gave each other significant looks whenever you went on and on.

But of course, that was before your accident. Who would have guessed that stealing a prototype supersonic jet on behalf of Her Majesty’s Secret Service would end up with you being royally fucked? You woke up weeks later with the world’s most deadly sonic vocal cords. The icing on the cake was MI6 ordering you to join Amanda Waller’s investigation into the butterflies, probably as punishment for failing your previous mission.

You take a deep breath and quietly murmur a gentle, low note. The ground vibrates and the first empty bottle of Budweiser shatters. You concentrate hard and hum a second note and the next bottle cracks in a perfect straight line down the middle, the two halves fall apart. Another inhale and you let out a soft whisper- the third beer bottle is blasted backwards into the air by a sonic wave.

Vigilante leans back to rest on his elbows and looks at you appreciatively. “Never gets old.”

There is a moment’s pause as the three of you stare into the fire. “I never asked anyone at Corto Maltese but what does it feel like, having… abilities?” asks Chris “My sonic boom helmet is pretty cool but it must be scary as fuck having it inside your head.”

You shrug. You preferred life before your powers. Before MI6 had sent you here as punishment for failing to retrieve that jet and nearly getting yourself killed. You miss when you could sing Natasha Bedingfield on karaoke and laugh ‘til you cried without shattering every window in your flat.

“She misses not being able to talk. I get it Birdie, it feels good to open up and get your feelings out.”

“Vij, stop making shit up. You don’t know that she misses talking.”

“Uh- I think I know how my second best friend forever is feeling. I can read her body language.”

Second best friend forever? Is that sarcasm? As far as you could tell, Vigilante doesn’t really understand sarcasm, nevermind make sarcastic quips himself. So does he actually think you’re friends?

He may be a borderline stalker that follows you around like a little puppy but the fact that he is super observant comes in handy. It’s probably why you work so well together- even if you don’t like to admit it. In combat, he watches your every move and responds and adapts so quickly that it feels like you’re in sync.

“Tell me he’s talking out his ass,” says Chris

You give a small shake of your head and Chris still looks confused. You pull out your phone and open the notes app.

‘He’s right.’ You type and hold up your screen reluctantly.

“See!” Vigilante points at you enthusiastically. “I can but she hates to admit it! I’m a mind-reader, baby. No wait, better than a mind-reader, a body-reader! And damn, I love to read that body.”

You exhale through your nose, scoffing silently but you take a much longer swig of beer. You really do hate admitting that he’s right. What does it say about you that the only person in the team who can’t pick up on most normal social cues can read you like a book? You remind yourself that his body-reading really did save your backside when you were fighting the butterflies earlier.

One of them had snuck up on you from behind and clamped his hand over your mouth, stopping you from emitting your sonic scream. He had a blade against your throat, ready to sever your vocal cords to stop you from killing any more of his comrades. But Vigilante threw a knife at his head with precision, the blade inches from your face, leaving you soaked in blood, breathless and lying on your back staring up at him, blinking in disbelief, adrenaline coursing through your veins. His towering figure hoisted you back up to your feet with such ease… it actually looked kind of hot. Not that you could ever tell him that.

“Hey Birdie,” you look up at Vigilante and can tell by his sing-song voice that he’s still smirking under his mask “Have you ever been fucked so hard that you brought down an apartment building?”

“Jesus Christ, Vij!” scolds Chris

This time you don’t make a sour face or give him an eye roll. You flush involuntarily and end up looking down at your crossed legs, praying that neither Vigilante nor Chris can read your expression. Your domino mask only covers part of your face so you hope the bonfire makes the heat rising in your cheeks less noticeable.

He’s touched a nerve. Yes, you miss laughing and singing but there’s something you miss even more. You haven’t even touched yourself in over a year, nevermind had sex, just in case you make any noise. You’ve had sex dreams that turn into nightmares, always ending the same way- a moan of pleasure that becomes a horrified scream as your sonic waves blow the brains out of the faceless lover in your dreams.

You look up and they’re still staring at you expectantly. You shake your head.

“Shit,” exhales Chris “I thought I had it bad in prison but a vow of silence and abstinence? You’re for sure getting into heaven.”

You smirk. You’ve killed way too many people to get into heaven.

“Say the word and I’ll help you out, Birdie,” says Vigilante.

“Come on Vij, I said cut it out,” Chris interjects.

Your eyes don’t leave Vigilante, your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach. But you wait for him to finish.

“I saw how that butterfly left you defenceless earlier when he had his hand over your mouth. Just blink twice and I’ll do the same thing, babe. One hand over your mouth and the other deep in your-”

“Okay - that’s enough!” Chris gets up and hoists Vigilante to his feet by the scruff of his suit. “Blackbird is just trying to fuckin’ have a beer and you think you can harass her?”

You sit in stunned silence, momentarily distracted by Chris’ profound moment of self-growth. It was only last week that he was sexually harassing your waitress in Fennel Fields, and according to Harcourt, harassing her in a bar just days ago. You bite your lip, your gaze returning to Vigilante and you can feel the flush on your face spreading down your neck and to your chest. You’re grateful that your leather suit doesn’t leave any skin below your neck exposed.

“I’ll take first shift. I’m supposed to be watching for butterflies,” says Chris and he roughly lets go of Vigilante. He points two fingers at his eyes and points them at Vigilante. “But I’ll be watching you too.”

“Aww come on! I’m not a creep.” Vigilante holds up his hands in protest and you find yourself noticing how large his hands actually are. “But I do have duct tape,” he adds, glancing over at you. You’re glad when he turns 180 degrees and positively skips off towards his tent so he doesn’t notice your chest heaving as you try to steady your breath. Calm down.

You continue to watch him on his way to the far side of the camp as you finish your drink. You throw the empty bottle in with the others in the bin. You nod to Chris and point your thumb at your tent.

“Sleep tight Birdie. I’ll keep an eye on Vij for you.”

You smile and wave your hand away, It’s fine don’t worry about me, but Chris totally misreads your body language.

“Yeah, I’ll push him away like that-“ he mimics your hand wave “Read you loud and clear.”

You thought your signing and expressions were obvious but Chris reminds you again that Vigilante is the only person you’ve met who can read your movements like he’s reading your mind.

In your tent, you begin to peel off your skintight black leather suit. The dried blood from earlier cracks and flakes as you peel it off. You’re thankfully uninjured. Just a few aches and bruises, and a small scratch where the butterfly held his blade against your neck but you’re grateful you got off lightly. You strip to your plain black cotton underwear and sports bra and use a bottle of water and washcloth to get rid of the remaining blood and sweat from your body, trying your best to get it out of your hair. You need a real shower but this will do for now.

You crawl into your sleeping bag and as you had expected, you can’t get comfortable. Almost immediately you start to toss and turn. It’s unreasonably hot in here, despite the cool night air outside. Your skin feels like it’s on fire and when you lie still you can hear your heartbeat.

You unzip your sleeping back, exposing your skin to the cool air and lie on your back, hands resting on your tummy. You trace your hand upwards, imagining Vigilante’s much bigger hand moving up past your throat to cover your mouth. You press your knees shut, trying to ignore the low hum of frequency buzzing between them. Your other hand seems to have a mind of its own and reaches down to lightly graze your swollen clit over the fabric of your underwear. You accidentally let out a single agonising groan. The hard ground vibrates and the fabric of the tent whooshes. Pausing, you hold your breath to see if anyone is stirring.

Nope.

You sit bolt upright. Fuck, it is so fucking frustrating being worked up with no release- ever.

Breathe.

Come on, you think, you can do this. You’ve gone over a year without this. Self-preservation. World preservation. You’ve taken down a group of five butterflies with a single, ear-splitting scream- who knows what sonic shockwaves would occur if you orgasmed?

And yet.

Could Vigilante be right? The butterfly had rendered you helpless with one hand. Could the solution to your frustration be as simple as a strong hand over your mouth?

“I do have duct tape.”

Heat sears between your legs. You kneel in front of the canvas entrance of your tent. You reach out tentatively to unzip your tent. Your hand hesitates. What if Chris or one of the others sees you?

On second thoughts, you sit back onto your heels, acutely aware of the way your underwear has felt increasingly hot and sticky since Vigilante skipped off to his tent. You place one hand over your mouth and slide the other one into your underwear.

When you close your eyes, the memory of Vigilante standing over you to retrieve his knife from the butterfly's skull enters your mind. The way his strong arms practically scooped you up and out of your stupor. How he firmly placed his hands on each of your shoulders and looked you over to make sure you were uninjured.

“I’ll do the same thing babe. One hand over your mouth and the other deep in your-”

Oh for God’s sake. You’re furious with your own lack of self-control as you decide you need to find out how that sentence ends. You unzip the door slowly, quietly and poke your head out into the dark night air. To your left, Chris is still beside the fire, looking out towards the horizon, his back facing the small group of tents. You look towards the right- at Vigilante’s tent. It’s the furthest away from the rest of the group- about thirty or so metres away from yours.

You’ve never moved so quickly and so cat-like in your life. You tiptoe barefoot and half-naked out of your tent and creep silently towards Vigilante’s. You unzip his tent door and hastily climb in.

“Fuck!” Vigilante scrambles around and sits up in his sleeping bag, he shines both a torch and a gun in your face, blinding you. You furiously press a finger to your lips to try and get him to shush. “What the-?” He blurts. Looking at the torch, you make a barely audible “Shh” and the bulb cracks. Everything in the tent goes dark.

“Birdie?” he whispers “I nearly shot you- I thought you were a butterfly.” You both look at the tent opening with bated breath, waiting to see if anyone has noticed the commotion. They don’t. The only sound is the canvas door moving gently in the cool night breeze.

With each blink, bright spots appear in front of your eyelids as your sight adjusts after being hit with the torch light. The dim moonlight barely penetrates the green canvas of the tent. You turn and see that Vigilante is only wearing a pair of teal boxer briefs- he is unsuited and unmasked. He’s no longer faceless and your eyes widen with the realisation that he is the busboy from Fennel Fields. Chris’ friend's brother- Adrian Chase. Adrian’s mouth opens in realisation as he brings a hand to feel his face, reading the recognition crossing yours.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers and tries to jam the mask back over his head but it gets caught on his glasses. “I can’t sleep with my mask on. I knew it would come back to bite me in the ass.” You reach out and grasp his arms firmly to stop his panicked movements. You let go and hold up your arms in an exaggerated shrug. He stops. “You’re right B bird. You were the only one left in the group who didn’t know my secret identity and you’ve seen me now.” And he tosses the mask aside.

Your stomach does a little flip as your still-adjusting eyes take him in. Wow- he’s handsome. Thank God. Thick wavy black hair, green eyes, glasses and a muscular, lean body littered with scars.

His glasses are askew and he adjusts them- you can’t help but look at the veins on his muscular forearms as he does it. He halts and looks back at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion “What are you doing here? Shit- did Chris spot something on his watch?”

Fuck.

You pause. He doesn’t know why you’re here. He was joking. Of course, he was- he never stops joking. He was probably just making fun of you.

You try to make your expression blank and unreadable and all sorts of wild excuses flash through your mind. You hold up a finger, signalling for him to wait and bring up the notes app on your phone.

‘I heard a wolf’ you type and show him the phone screen.

“And you came in here rather than deal with it yourself? Alright-” he cocks his gun and starts crawling towards the open tent door. You wave your hands, telling him to stop and you zip the tent door blocking his exit. You quickly type on your phone again

‘Gone now. Can I sleep here in case it comes back?’

He looks up from your phone screen. “Birdie? Scared of a wolf? Damn, I thought you weren’t scared of anything!” He laughs quietly and you scowl. “Okay, okay- I won’t tell the rest of them you’re scared of wolves. Pinky swear.” He extends his pinky and you grasp it with your own. You wonder if he knows that there aren’t any wolves in these woods.

“Make yourself at home.” He waves across the surprisingly tidy tent and you’re secretly pleased that he’s scrubbed himself clean of (most of) the blood and dirt from earlier. He looks around the tent and his eyes land back on you and for the first time, he realises you’re wearing underwear and a sports bra. It’s not your sexiest lingerie but you feel a jolt of satisfaction as his gaze lingers a fraction too long.

“Jeez, you must be freezing,” he says. Oh. Were his eyes just looking over your goosebump-covered skin? “You take the sleeping bag”

You can’t believe that after his comments earlier he is actually being a gentleman. This is not going to plan at all. He has no idea that his throwaway flirtatious remark momentarily shattered your worldview.

Maybe this is why you find him so maddening. He is everything you aren’t. Everything you can’t be. He’s loud, he’s openly flirtatious and he’s unserious. The quieter you are, the more you recede into your shell. You can’t flirt anymore because you need to suppress all your sexual desires. You can’t even let out a sigh of laughter without causing a serious injury so you feel like you’re gradually losing your sense of humour.

“Hey, Birdie? Are you okay?” He looks into your face, concerned.

That motherfucker. Of course, he’s caring too. You can’t stand it. You grasp his worried face and wrestle him into a kiss.

Take that, you think as you bite his bottom lip.

It takes him a beat to realise what is happening but when he does he surges forward hungrily, his hand curls a fistful of your hair. He smells like the 5th of November. The bonfire smoke lingers on his skin and underneath the burnt gunpowder scent, there’s something fresh and citrusy- like bergamot.

You taste his warm tongue as it enters your mouth and you trace your hand down his chest. He makes a noise low in his throat in response and using his hand to hold your jaw open he kisses you deeply, exploring your mouth with his tongue. You pull apart to get some air. Your masked eyes meet his bright green ones. His glasses are askew again and his cheeks are flushed.

“Holy fuck- I’ve thought about kissing you every day since the moment I first saw you Birdie but I thought you hated me?”

You shrug and he laughs.

“Aw, I get it. Poor B bird, you’re just mean to me because you’re all frustrated. But I know deep down you like me. ”

You scrunch your nose, mockingly and your fingers continue downwards to graze his cock. But- wait a minute. Your eyes widen as you get a better feel for what you’re dealing with. Your hand grips round his thick cock through the fabric of his underwear. You rip your gaze away from his green eyes to look down and almost do a double-take. You thought they called him ‘ Thimble ’.

“Oh,” he says “Chris gives everyone a dick-based nickname. He gave me mine when I was 12.”

You continue to look at him incredulously.

“It was in a locker room, it’s a lot less weird than it sounds. Alright… maybe it is as weird as it sounds.” He pauses “Fuck is it also weird that your surprised reaction to my dick is making me even harder? The ol’ bait and switch.”

You’re trying very, very hard to keep your eyes unrolled. Your hands travel back up to his pecs and he lets you push him back so that he’s lying on his sleeping bag. You swing your leg over his body to straddle his hips and pull your sports bra off in one swift movement.

“Holy fuck.” He groans like he can’t believe his eyes, grabbing your tits lecherously. “Your tits look even better than they do in that little black suit.”

Perv.

The scars on his body practically beg you to kiss them and so you start working your way down, slowly planting kisses on a healed shrapnel wound on his neck, a small scar on his sternum, following a trail of scratches down his abdomen and your lips meet the trail of dark hair below his belly button. You tug his boxers down, revealing his cock. You feel a rush of heat between your legs as you see it’s hard, leaking and desperate to be sucked.

He adjusts his glasses and looks down in anticipation. You slowly lick the underside of his cock and he lets out a quiet whimper as you circle your tongue over his head. You open your mouth ready to take him in when he sits up on his elbows. “Wait-”

You pause and look at him, eyes wide and mouth open, your tongue resting on his frenulum.

“Is it safe?” he asks. There’s a glint of something in his eye. Fear? Is Vigilante actually afraid of something- you? You nod reassuringly in answer to his question. “You’re sure you can do it without making any noise?” You nod again, your tongue still on him and his cock bobs with your head movement. “Okay” he acquiesces but he remains on his elbows, looking down at you as you open your jaw as wide as you can and try to take all of him in.

It’s been at least 18 months since you did this but you don’t remember it being this difficult. Your lips feel stretched as you take in as much of his length as you can. Your tongue slides up and down the underside of his penis and you feel his head hit the back of your throat but your lips aren’t even close to the base.

“Fuck, you were so mean before. And now you’re being such a good girl for me- what happened to you Birdie?”

Good girl. Ugh, why does that make you melt?

You concentrate hard and you desperately want to moan but you can’t make any noise with your vocal cords. The only sound is the obscenely wet slurping of your saliva as you swirl your tongue around his length.

You look up at him again and see he has the same glint in his eyes as before. And you realise it isn’t just fear, it’s excitement.

Sick fuck.

He’s excited at the danger - that you might accidentally blow him to smithereens while, well, blowing him.

“Wait… wait…” he groans and cups your chin. Oh no- maybe he’s realised the life-threatening position he’s in? “I’m gonna blow my load if you keep doing that.”

Yes! You think with satisfaction.

“Just looking at your pretty mouth- oh fuck- that dangerous little mouth that just killed an entire swarm of butterflies. Fuck- it makes me wanna cum.”

He’s deranged. But you’re desperate to please him, give him that release he deserves for saving your life earlier. You nod with your mouth still full, giving him permission to cum down your throat.

“I can’t,” he genuinely looks anguished “Because I still wanna fuck you. And I really wanna taste your pussy… will you let me?”

You reluctantly remove his cock from your mouth and purse your lips with worry. You shake your head.

“You don’t want me to go down on you? Isn’t that why you came in here B?” You crawl up towards him and lie on your side, facing him. Adrian turns on his side and looks into your eyes. Your eyes are wide, pleading that he understands.

“You think it’s too dangerous for me to go down on you?” You give a small embarrassed nod.

“Hey, what did I promise you?” He tilts your head up. “I promised you I’d put one hand over your mouth…” He covers your mouth with his left hand and you’re forced by the sudden weight of him onto your back “... and the other…” His right hand pulls your underwear off and he gently glides over your wet folds with his fingers. The pads of his fingers lightly graze your throbbing clit and you fight not to buck your hips greedily. He leans in to whisper, his lips touching your ear and his breath hot “...deep in your cunt.”

Adrian sucks two of his fingers and then sinks them deep into your aching pussy, curling up and hitting the spot you crave, his palm rubbing your clit. You arch your back as he presses his fingers inside you.

“Oh man, you are so fucking wet already. Is that just from sucking my cock? Or is it from when you were in your tent coming up with that wolf story?”

Fuck - he did know.

“Just look at you- squirming and totally fucking defenceless. I could do whatever I wanted to you and you couldn’t even stop me because my hand is stopping your one power.” Your eyes roll back in your head- for once not in exasperation but in pleasure.

Please, Adrian, do whatever you want with me.

You feel your pussy getting wetter thinking about how he’ll split you in half with his fat cock after this. Your head is already spinning and he’s only using two fingers.

“I never thought you’d be like this. I never thought you’d be a little slut that creeps into my tent in the middle of the night. I thought you were stuck up but here you are, getting off on being held down and finger fucked by the guy you hate.”

Fuck, he really can talk.

Adrian’s theory is put to the test as you feel a soft moan try to escape your throat. You’re worried that your own head might explode. But nothing happens. The sound is dampened against the palm of his hand. He feels the vibrations against his palm and realises that he was right. It spurs him on to go faster and he lowers his head to your pussy. You feel his hot tongue lick between your folds. He finds your clit and starts moving his tongue in quick firm circles. His fingers continue to curl and press upwards, tapping a beautiful rhythm as your muscles squeeze round his thick digits.

“Oh, Birdie I’m gonna make you cum all over my fingers then I’m going to fuck this tight, wet little pussy.” His mouth returns to your clit but you’re already past the point of no return. His words, God damn his words, sneak up on you and push you over the edge, your first orgasm in over a year and it arrives quicker than it ever has before. Blinding, searing heat rips you apart from inside out as you’re hurled headfirst into your release. The walls of your pussy flare and contract around his fingers, you see stars as your chest heaves and you give another muffled desperate moan into Adrian’s hand.

Fuck, you can’t believe you’re cumming for Vigilante.

He gives a few slow licks up the entire length of your slit, releases his hand from your mouth and crawls up towards you. His arms on either side of your head, he gives you another slow, deep kiss.

“Did you like that, B?” Even if you could use your vocal cords, you’re not sure you’d be able to speak. He laughs as you gaze at him through heavy lids. “You are so adorable when you’re satisfied” he gently pinches your cheek “But I’m not done with you yet.”

He clambers off you and rummages around in his duffel bag and your abdomen clenches with delight when you see he’s holding duct tape. “I need to warn you that this might hurt when you take it off.” He regularly kills people for doing graffiti but looks genuinely concerned at the idea of duct tape causing you discomfort. Maniac. You nod and point to your mouth, encouraging him to seal your lips.

He straddles you, peels a short length of duct tape and rips it off the roll with his teeth. “Ready?” Using his large, gentle hands he firmly presses the duct tape over your lips. Fuck, you feel constricted but it’s turning you on even more. A wicked idea flashes across your mind. You put your wrists together and eagerly extend your arms towards him.

He gasps in mock dismay, and then a wild smile crosses his face. “You are such a little slut for me, pretty Birdie. Are you normally this kinky?”

You flush bright pink. You’re not. But tonight you want to give Adrian total control, so you wait with your arms out, eyes pleading, and he obliges. He wraps the duct tape around your wrists and once again uses his teeth to detach the length from the roll of tape.

“Holy fucking shit” he tosses the roll back into his bag and looks at you hungrily. He takes your tied arms and moves them above your head to give him a better view of your tits. “All those times I’ve dreamed about you naked in my bed, I never thought you’d be gift-wrapped.”

You look up at him and feel truly helpless. Adrian’s head drops down to give the contour of your neck a long drag of his tongue, slow and hot and gentle. He trails kisses along your jaw and stops when his lips are almost touching your ear. “If there’s anything you don’t like, baby, just let me know. Hit me or something.” He whispers.

This brief shift in tenderness and his consideration for your enthusiastic consent simply leaves you in a puddle. You nod and hold your breath waiting for his next move.

He starts to work down, kissing your neck, your collarbone and then you feel your blood burning fire through your veins as his lips envelop your left nipple. He squeezes your tits, cupping them with both hands and his teeth gently graze your sensitive skin. Your back arches and he lifts his head up, watching you writhe. His calloused fingers pinch both of your nipples and he plants sloppy, wet kisses across your chest. Adrian’s kisses then land on your ribs and trail down your stomach.

You’re already soaking fucking wet again. You try to move your legs apart, eager to let him see how ready you are but his knees on either side of yours block the way. Your pussy is slick, swollen and desperate for him to fill you up again.

“Patience, Birdie.” He kisses just below your belly button and when his eyes close and he moves back up to suck your other nipple you let out a muffled whine.

“Fuck, your skin is so soft,” He buries his face into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent “And how do you smell so good after kicking ass all day? Like leather…and lavender..”

You wriggle out from underneath him impatiently, pulling your legs up to your chest and wrapping your ankles behind his waist. He pulls his head away from your neck and looks at you with impish delight. You bring your tied wrists over his head and behind his neck so you can better leverage your body into his. He kisses the duct tape across your lips.

“So demanding.” His whisper chastises you with a cocky smile.

He moves back, untangling himself from you so he can get a better look at you lying flushed and naked on his sleeping bag. You draw your knees up to your chest so he can see how desperate and soaking your pussy is and he holds your legs above you by the calves. Adrian surveys the sight before him appraisingly and slaps the meat of your thigh with an open palm.

You whine into the sticky covering on your mouth and in response, he traces his fingers gently up and down your soaking-wet entrance.

“God, you have a beautiful pussy. It’s like it was fucking made for me to be in it.”

He puts two fingers inside your leaking cunt and slowly draws them back out. You look down and blush at how wet you are as he takes himself in his now wet hand and strokes his length with your slick.

Adrian lets go of your calves, catches the backs of your knees, and spreads your legs, pulling you towards him. He kneels in front of you and runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds. A jolt of panic sears through you when you feel his thick head at your entrance. You grab a fistful of Adrian’s wavy hair, and force him to look in your eyes. Be gentle, your eyes plead. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex and you hope he has the sense not to fucking destroy you with his cock.

“I’ll go slow” Adrian presses his forehead against your head and stares deeply into your eyes as if reading your mind. He pulls back and tenderly brushes your hair away from your masked face then he returns his hand to guide himself into your pussy.

And then- pressure. Blunt and thick as he breaks you open over his cock.

Your hand grabs his hair as if by instinct and Adrian watches your face intently as you squeeze your eyes shut. Come on, you think to yourself, you’ve literally been stabbed multiple times- you can take a fucking cock.

“This okay B?” You nod determinedly as he pushes deeper. “Fuck, you’re so warm. And so… fucking…tight.” His words are as slow as the incredibly controlled way he pushes himself into you and you feel like your insides are being rearranged. Fuck, you’re know you’re going to ache for days after this.

You let out a deep exhale and at the same time, he groans as he fully sheathes himself into you. You’re grateful for the respite when he pauses and you can tell from his furrowed brow and shaking arms that he’s struggling not to cum already.

He’s only paused for seconds but his self-restraint sends waves of arousal washing over you. You wriggle again, this time moving your hips in tiny circles, feeling him throb as you squeeze around him as hard as you can.

“Such an impatient little Birdie,” he says, gritting his teeth as you squirm underneath him. “Trying to make me cum first.” Your wriggling has given him newfound determination to make you cum again- before he does.

He starts to ramp up his pace so in return you squeeze your muscles tightly and move your hips, attempting to fuck yourself back into him, even though the stretch of him feels searing.

“Is this what you needed? Needed the fucking you’ve dreamed of - since even before you got your powers?”

His words do something to you. You let out an involuntary whine into the duct tape and he laughs. “Yeah, this is what you needed baby.”

How does he switch like this? So sweet and then just so, so filthy, so degrading . You remind yourself again that Vigilante is probably a psychopath. But you can’t deny that the way he talks is really, really turning you on - and he knows it.

Adrian’s hands thread through your hair and his biceps are at either side of your face. For the first time, you wish your mouth wasn’t covered with duct tape so you could kiss his arms and feel his tongue in your mouth again. You plant your tape-covered mouth into his neck anyway, inhaling the scent of smoke and his bergamot fragrance.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since I met you Birdie. The way you roll those pretty eyes at me. I knew I could make you like me. And I know you really, really like how my cock is filling you up. The others would never believe how much you fucking like me now.”

The sound of his thrusts become shamefully wetter in response to his words.

“Fuck, I felt that. Who knew you’d get so wet hearing me talk. You. Pretty. Little. Slut.”

Your toes curl as he punctuates the last four words with brutal thrusts. He takes your tied wrists and pins them above your head, they brush the zips on the tent door. The silhouette of his broad shoulders and outstretched arm makes you notice the size difference between you. His head drops down to your throat and he sucks on your neck as his fingers dig bruises into your forearms.

“Thank God your mouth is covered or the whole team would know that you’ll be spending tonight cumming all over my cock.”

He moves his other hand down between your bodies and you exhale pitifully at the canvas ceiling when the tip of his finger starts rubbing small firm circles on your clit. Oh fuck, this is it. The same flicker of warning from earlier as he continues to thrust inside you.

“Y’know I’d gladly let you fucking decimate my entire apartment building if it meant I could hear you cumming for me.”

From anyone else, this would be a joke but Vigilante is a fucking lunatic and you know he’s being sincere. Is there anyone you could be with who would honestly let you do that? You feel tears swimming in your eyes and you start to see stars. You’d be audibly sobbing with lust and relief if you could.

“Fuck yeah, come on, fucking cum on my cock,” He whispers in your ear, his tone becomes gentle. “Come on, pretty Birdie, do it again for me.”

Everything surges hot and molten while he keeps pounding himself into you. You cum and the moan that escapes you is so fierce that the masking tape on your face vibrates. Your fingers search wildly behind your head and grab onto the nearest thing- the tent zipper - as your walls convulse and squeeze around his cock in pleasure.

Adrians hips stutter “Holy shit you get so tight when you cum.” You give him another squeeze “Oh fuck, I’m gonna— I’m- wh-where? Do you want me to cum on your stomach?”

You don’t have time to grab your phone and tell him on your notes app about how your supersonic accident was permanent birth control. So instead you shake your head, wrap your legs even more tightly around his waist and lift your hips off the ground pressing yourself to him tightly.

Inside. Please cum inside me, Adrian.

He understands, like you knew he would, and the desperate pull of your legs makes him plow his hips deep into yours. His whispered moans jump up to a fortissimo as he buries his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder and he empties his load inside you. “Fuckfuckfuck” his curses turn into an incomprehensible stream of consciousness. His hips shudder, he gives a final loud groan and you feel his cock throbbing as the hot ropes of his release coat your insides.

He’s heavy on top of you but comfortable. Like a muscular weighted blanket. You could lie here forever, he breathes heavily into the crook of your neck and his warm cum leaks out of you, making a mess of his sleeping bag.

Your masked face is damp- tears have been streaming down your cheeks. A build-up of emotions passes over you like a wave. You’re just honestly grateful that you met someone as reckless as Vigilante. How many people could say they had someone willing to risk their life just to please them?

Suddenly- footsteps. Fuck, Adrian had been loud.

“Blackbird? Fuck! Her tent is open and she’s not here!” Shit- that’s Chris’ voice.

“Peacemaker, over here!” yells Harcourt and you can hear her voice only feet from your head. Damn she was stealthy.

You and Adrian barely have time to look at each other before the tent door is wrenched open, and Agent Harcourt is pointing a gun inside.

Chris and Harcourt stare open mouthed in shock. Adrian on top of you, flushed, sweating, glasses askew. You with tears in your eyes, masking tape over your mouth and your hands bound and stretching for the tent door. You and Adrian come to the same realisation as you lock eyes.

You wave your hands at Chris and Harcourt wildly, in a ‘Stop!” motion. Chris, as usual, misreads your meaning entirely and seems to think your waving means ‘Help!’ .

“God damnit Vij!”

Adrian looks up, horrified “No, no, no, no. This is so not what it looks like!”

“I’m not gonna enjoy kicking your ass,” says Chris, putting his helmet on “But someone has to do it.”

Fuck.

You rip the duct tape off of your mouth- your eyes squeeze shut in pain as you feel your top lip split. “Chris, stop!” you whisper urgently and Chris is hit by the sonic wave, sending him flying into the air and landing on his back over ten feet away. You all watch as he sits up slowly, dazed but uninjured.

“Holy shit,” laughs Adrian in amazement “I didn’t know you had a British accent.”

Idiot.

Chapter 2: Bird After Reading

#adrian chase #Adrian Chase x reader #vigilante x you #vigilante x reader #Adrian Chase x you #peacemaker #freddie stroma #fanfic

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