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training4theapocalypse · 2 years 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.

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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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busylickingsatansballs · 10 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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bbxkruger · 2 years ago

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Adrian: *throwing his head onto y/n’s lap* tell me I’m pretty

Y/n: pretty fucking annoying is what you are

#peacemaker #adrian chase #christopher smith #vigilante #peacemaker incorrext quotes #john cena #freddie stroma #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase imagine

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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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kpopgirlbtssvt · 1 year ago

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This!!!

i feel like with the wait for Peacemaker season 2 people are forgetting all about the lovable “sociopath” Vigilante/Adrian Chase. I feel like I’ve read every Vig fic there is to read and there’s a huge slow down in new ones! I would love any recs on here or any other sites of ppl’s fav vigilante fics or ones they’ve written themselves! Also any creators taking submissions for new vig fics reply too!! tysm <3

#adrian chase #vigilante #peacemaker #vigilante peacemaker #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase fanfiction #vigilante imagine #vigilante x reader #vigilante fanfiction #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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flower-slut004 · 1 year ago

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Adrian Chase

Red Californian Worms

#multifandom imagines #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #freddie stroma

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powerfultenderness · 1 day ago

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Clone Wars

This [post]: "saying I would fuck your identical clone but not you and refusing to explain"

You know who it would be fun to fuck with like that? Adrian Chase, Vigilante, the love of my life. And it would be soo easy to steer the conversation towards it too!

Just imagine:

Chilling with the gang, the TV's on but no one's really paying attention to it until you sigh at some random commercial. "Oof, that guy is so hot." You say as the narrator says "Freddie Stroma as-"

And everyone pauses, looks at the TV, looks at you, looks back at the TV, then looks at Adrian.

Adrian's confused forced laugh fades when he realizes everyone looking at him. "What?"

"Really?" Chris' voice and face incredulous as he looks at you, though Adrian is still confused and thinks he's talking to him, so repeats his question.

"That guy?!" Chris jerks his thumb towards the TV, even though the game is back on. "You think that guy is hot?"

"Yea." You nod, suppressing a smirk as Chris and Adebayo fall into your trap.

Adrian blinks, still confused, "I mean, I guess he is? He's not the big buff handsome type like you, P."

Chris rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "No, I'm not asking you. That would be weird."

"What? Why? You think because I'm a man I can't tell when another man is attractive? 'Cause let me tell you-"

"Dude! Shut up! You know I don't give a fuck about that! It'd be weird because you look just like him!"

Everyone else nods and a round of "yeas" echoes around the room.

"No, I don't!" Adrian denies quickly, mostly out of what he feels is social obligation.

"Yes, you do! Look!" Adebayo, sweet Adebayo, holds her phone out and zooms in on a picture of the actor. "He even has the same dimples as you!"

"Yea, just throw some glasses on the guy and dye his hair and he could be your twin!" Economos almost hits your mark.

"Yea, you would know, dye-beard."

"Hey look, here's a picture of him with glasses!" The actor is even wearing a baseball cap in the photo, obscuring his blonde hair and looking even more like Adrian.

"Psh! Twin? That guy could be your evil clone!" Chris scoffs as he looks between Leota's phone and Adrian.

"Why's the clone gotta be evil?"

"The clone's always evil." Economs sides with Chris, who tilts his head in thought.

"Actually, maybe Vij is this guy's evil clone."

"Hey! I'm not evil!"

'Come on! So close! Christopher Smith, you perverted motherfucker, don't fail me now.' Horses and water...

"Whatever!" Chris finally yells over the discussion of whether or not ones clone would be evil. (Really, it was going on a little longer than it should have!). "Look, the point is: I would fuck my clone, evil or not."

Yes! Finally! It takes everything in your power not to grin like a maniac.

Leota and John voice their disgust over the thought of fucking their clone while you wait for Adrian's response. You know he's going to agree with Peacemaker, just say it!

"Yea, I'd totally fuck my clone, it'd be awesome!"

More groans and exclamations that you ignore as you theatrically thoughtfully tilt your head and tap your chin. "Hmm, yea. I'd fuck your clone too."

"You mean you'd fuck your clone?" Adrian tries to correct you, a cute helpful smile on his pretty face.

"No." You smile sweetly at him, "I mean, I would fuck your identical clone, Adrian."

He smiles even more, leaning in towards you, eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Yea," you hold a mollifying hand up, like you were telling him not to worry. "But not you."

"What?"

"Ha! Fucking thimble!" Chris and the others fade in the background as you and Adrian lock eyes.

"But why not?"

You lick your lips, his eyes flicker towards the movement, and just when you open your mouth to answer your phone lights up in your hand.

"Oh." You look down and quickly turn the screen off just as quickly as it lit up. "That's the boss. I gotta go. See you guys later!"

Chris is still laughing at Adrian's rejection even as everyone else bids you a goodbye. Well, everyone but Adrian.

Instead he follows you out the door, "wait! That doesn't make any sense! Why would you fuck my clone but not me?"

He's followed you all the way to your car at this point. You open your car door and look at him, "your identical clone."

He's so cute when he's confused. "What?"

"Yea, no offense to that actor guy, but I really like you with dark hair."

"Really?" Then his smiles falls as he gets confused again. "But then, why wouldn't you fuck me?"

All you do is smirk at him as you slip into the car.

Of course he's not letting it go though! He rushes around to the passenger side and climbs right in. "Ok, why would you fuck my clone, but not me?" He asks again, this time a little slower and moving his hands as if that'd get you to answer him.

~Fade to black~

Adrian rolls onto his back, his breathing a little hard as he grins up at the ceiling. "So, you would fuck me and not my clone!"

"After that?" You too are a little short winded. "I'm definitely fucking your clone."

"Seriously?"

You turn your head and wink at him, "threesome."

His face lights up even more than when you kissed him. "Oh! Ooh!"

#adrian chase x reader #x reader #gn reader #fade to black bc i don't feel like writing smut #i saw the post and was looking for any cod writers taking reqs (i really wanna see soap ghost and gaz respond lol)#when i realized i could tease adrian with it too #idk if i got his voice back. but it's nice to see him again #vigilante x reader

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payattentiontothescreen · 8 months ago

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Bridgerton Rewatch S1E3 - Art of the Swoon

Hey y'all. Sorry for the delay on this one, grad school is taking over my life. Here we go!

This episode starts with Daphne’s dream sequence and I’m gonna take a second to give some love to the camera department. Beyond the cinematography (which is amazing and shouldn’t be devalued), getting those shots must have been a pain in the ass. POV shots are not easy to get, especially when they’re close-ups on a person’s face. Those close-up POVs of Simon and Daphne dancing must have taken some EFFORT and I salute the cam ops for getting it so smoothly.

We have made it to my biggest problem with this season. George Crane was on the front lines fighting in Spain. How did it not occur to ANYONE that he might be dead? Like, they immediately jumped to “actually he hates you and wants nothing to do with your child.” I’m sorry WHAT??? He’s at war and that’s the ONLY conclusion you jump to???? It bugs me a lot, in case you couldn’t tell.

Portia wants Marina to dress in the family colors. What are those colors? There is very little consistency in the Featheringtons’ wardrobes, which says a lot about their lack of cohesion as a family. But there’s pinks, greens, yellows, all kinds of colors that almost never match.

I love the parlor scenes at the Bridgerton house. They all have such good chemistry as a family. That’s a major strength of this season that the second season doesn’t have as much.

I remember watching this the first time and thinking Prince Friedrich looked vaguely familiar but I didn’t know why. Imagine how shocked I was when I realized that I was watching Adrian Chase be a Regency-era Prussian prince. Freddie Stroma is so talented, my god.

Couples that mock together, stay together. You can see that with the way Daphne and Simon are making fun of Cressida and Friedrich.

Jumping ahead a bit to the stove scene. It is so funny that titled members of society have no practical skills. This is a theme of how the class system works, even to this day. Not having basic life skills is basically a status symbol when you have a certain amount of money. They are out of touch, obviously, but Anthony and Daphne being fictional characters in a historical setting makes it easier to laugh at.

Madame Delacroix is not dumb. She definitely knows that Marina is pregnant. I think her acting in this scene with the knowing glances and everything kind of bolsters the idea that she could be Lady Whistledown. I know she isn’t but if I didn’t, I could see how she would be the main suspect further down the line.

So I’m one of those weirdos who likes knowing why shitty people are that way. I really hope we learn more about Cressida and her background in the next season. Like, beyond just entitlement, how does someone turn into…that?

We’re at the gallery now. I think it’s nice when the Bridgertons get to participate in things as a unit. Most of the plot happens during events that are exclusive to people who are out in society, which leaves Eloise (in this season), Gregory, and Hyacinth out. It’s great to see them interact with the larger world because they add so much texture to it. That being said, Gregory and Hyacinth showed up to that gallery to cause problems on PURPOSE!

I love it when Marina is bitchy to shitty old men. They deserve it.

I know that Benedict has very little regard for society but I love watching him participate in it. This is a bigger thing in the scene with him, Lady Danbury, and Henry Granville. Benedict has so much charisma but it doesn’t align with society’s rules and expectations. I can’t wait to see him take center stage.

I had a note to talk about the blocking in the scene where Daphne and Simon are alone in the gallery together but I don’t remember what my thoughts were on that. If I think of it, I’ll add it somewhere but lmk if y’all have thoughts.

Benedict getting frustrated with drawing hands is hilarious to me. I’m not an artist, I can’t draw for shit. However, from what I’ve heard from my friends who are artists, hands are notoriously difficult to draw. So Benedict beating himself up over drawing hands is the most realistic thing in this episode and it kills me.

The fight between Daphne and Eloise reveals a lot about Eloise’s main flaw. During the fight, Daphne has this line, “You never see things from my perspective,” and that’s true. Eloise never sees things from other people’s perspectives. She’s constantly on some crusade that doesn’t take into account how other people around her might be affected. I’m really looking forward to her chilling out a bit.

Simon laughing at how little mothers tell their daughters has a bit of a sinister tinge once he and Daphne get married. He exploits that, to a certain extent.

Phoebe Dynevor (I learned how to spell, wow) is such a trooper for staying in character during that sex education lesson. If Regé-Jean Page was explaining masturbation that close to my face, I’d waste the whole shoot day just cracking up.

Another queer-coded sibling smoke break. Them talking about Lady Whistledown is interesting. Eloise says that LWD has to hide her identity because she’s a woman. While this is true, it’s not the reason. Benedict responds by saying that if people knew who she was, she’d be strung up for what she said, which is the real reason. And Eloise does prove this right. I don’t know what other people think, but I’m of the opinion that, no matter when she found out, Eloise would react the same way to Penelope being LWD. The rage and hurt compounds over the two seasons, but I think it would have been there regardless.

This show really emphasizes the importance of fem pleasure, but I have so many thoughts about it that it needs to be a separate post.

Simon breaking it off with Daphne is some of the most textbook fear-of-commitment dialogue in the world. I have heard basically the same monologue from so many people in my actual life, it drives me crazy.

The entire cast is insanely talented but one thing stands out. The absolute best acting in this show is Jonathan Bailey acting straight. If you didn’t know that he’s gay, you’d never be able to guess.

So we’ve made it to the forged letter scene. I have 2 things to say about this one. First of all, Ruby Barker absolutely slays. I’ve watched this show so many times and I will always feel her pain. It’s so powerful. The other thing, Lady Featherington has a bit of a projection problem. She has such a miserable marriage that she can’t fathom that George might truly love Marina. Also, again, jumping straight to dismissal instead of being killed in action. I can’t believe I’m defending men right now but, especially in this universe, jumping straight to abandonment seems like projecting more than an actual conclusion.

I’m gonna condense my last few notes into one bullet because they’re all about the ball at the end of the episode. Daphne comes into the ballroom with a face card that never declines, everybody’s staring at her, classic. The way I interpret Friedrich’s behavior in this scene boils down to he was never actually interested in Cressida. I don’t know, something about this whole thing just makes me feel like Cressida was a pretty convenience. The other thing is Simon. Obviously, Simon gets crazy jealous and dips, but there’s something about the shot of the dance floor as he leaves that I never noticed. Penelope watches Simon leave. Not only that, Penelope is the ONLY ONE who watches him leave while everyone else watches the dancing. If that’s not a hint that she’s LWD, I don’t know what is.

Managed to get everything into one part this time. There might be a gap in posting again but I will do my best to get through the whole series before season 3 comes out.

Hope you're having a good day <3

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vigsilantes · 2 years ago

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imagine being the actor that freddie stroma replaced as vigilante and seeing how incredible he is as the character 😭 like sorry to the other guy but no one could have been a better vigilante than freddie is in my opinion. freddie stroma is adrian chase.

#adrian chase #vigilante #freddie stroma #peacemaker #dcu

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ramona-thorns · 1 year ago

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part one — mask or nothing at all

☄. *. ⋆ pairings: vigilante x female oc

☄. *. ⋆ synopsis: in which a girl is called upon for a mission and arrives a month early to evergreen, washington. a trip to the convenience store doesn't go too well, but she meets an annoyingly charming vigilante. [7.1k words]

☄. *. ⋆ warning(s): a lot. violence, creepy men, blood, guns, profanity, talks of murder, murder, scout's a little fucked in the head, vigilante's nonsense, nsfw content, minors dni, consensual sex, praising, spanking, male receiving oral.

☄. *. ⋆ a/n: first time writing and publishing smut. i just had to get a fanfic out for vigilante. please be careful reading. none of it's realistic, but c'mon lol. let me have comically cruel characters. please enjoy as well! contains season 1 spoilers.

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EVERY CITY HAS A GRAVEYARD

–that’s what Scout tells herself. Sometimes, the smallest cities have the biggest secrets–Evergreen, Washington being one of them. A small, uneventful town plagued by drug and human trafficking, homicides, hate crimes, organized and white-collar crimes, and now, apparently, aliens.

Scout’s body count was high, but never once did an alien fall on the list. Not that she knew of anyway.

Her eyes burned from hours spent poring over the case intel. 'Butterflies?' The name sent a shiver down her spine; she loathed insects. Scout would rather face bullets and waterboarding than endure the sight of a worm on the sidewalk. The case file contained no photographs of these 'Butterflies,' but Harcourt, her colleague, assured her they had nothing to do with bugs.

Then what’s the point of the name?

Slamming the laptop shut, Scout emitted a strange grunt as she pushed herself up from the rickety dining table. Amanda Waller had a knack for selecting the perfect hideaways for these covert missions. This hotel room boasted an uncomfortable bed and a cramped bathroom that could barely accommodate her in case of injury. However, the kitchen was passable, and the TV provided a decent signal.

Her brown eyes flickered to the clock, confirming it was the dead of night, and her stomach grumbled with hunger.

To the gas station it is.

Scout never minded going for walks, part of her missed having a walkable city. She watched cars pass by, their tires creating gentle splashes on the wet pavement. The distant rumble of thunder added an ominous tone to the night, as if nature itself conspired with the town's dark secrets. She exchanged faint smiles with civilians walking their dogs, their fur-covered companions providing a small comfort in this unsettling place. It took every ounce of self-restraint for Scout not to drop to her knees and pet the passing canines.

The girl nodded her head along to the music playing through her headphones, her hands dropped by her side and readily available if she needed to reach for her gun. She never left her room without it. An attachment, a well trained machine that only did one thing.

Scout's eyebrows furrowed as she observed a young woman darting out of the convenience store. She held tightly onto her purse before rushing into her car. Scout tilted her head to one side, feeling a satisfying crack in her neck.

Under the dim glow of a neon green sign, the rain-slicked pavement mirrored the reflection of puddles and the harsh fluorescence from the overhead lights. The acrid stench of cigarette smoke mixed with the lingering scent of spilled oil filled the air. Scout couldn't shake the feeling that this was no place for a woman to be alone, especially at this hour.

Her eyes remained fixed on the store's entrance, a sense of unease settling in her gut as she watched, waiting to see if a man would emerge, perhaps the reason for the girl's anxious demeanor.

Once the woman had driven away, Scout cautiously approached the sliding doors of the convenience store. As she stepped inside, the bell above the door chimed softly.

The store was eerily empty. No one stood behind the cash register. Scout moved silently, her footsteps muted by the dull linoleum flooring. She explored each aisle, her eyes scanning over the array of chips, candies, beef jerky, and medicines–maybe she wasn’t hungry, nothing sounds appetizing. Her senses were honed in on the distant chatter emanating from behind the towering freezer units. A few men, their voices lighthearted and giggly, laughed like mischievous children.

Scout continued to move through the store, her feigned interest in the products hiding her true intentions. She couldn't help but notice the grimy floors, marred by years of foot traffic and questionable stains that hinted at countless untold stories.

“Can I help you lady?” Suddenly, a voice broke her concentration, and she pulled out one of her headphones. The source was a man behind the counter, wearing a worn-out wife beater and a gold chain hanging around his neck. A half-smoked cigarette dangled from his thinning lips.

“No, I’m just browsing.” he replied, her voice flat. Her gaze lingered on the man, noting the pocket knife tucked into his left pocket, a detail not lost on her.

“Looking for anything specific? We got stuff in the back.” He jutted his thumb to a door, a lazy smile on his face.

She pinched her lips together, irritation bubbling beneath her calm exterior. “No, like I said, just browsing.” She replied curtly, her eyes narrowing at the man. He sighed, exhaling a plume of smoke as he continued to scrutinize her, his eyes flickering between her and his phone.

Moments later, another figure emerged from the back room, a larger man cloaked in a black jacket and inexplicably wearing sunglasses indoors, despite the late hour. The cashier nodded subtly in Scout's direction, prompting the larger man to approach her.

“What’s your name, little lady?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, his lips curling into a sly smile.

Scout’s skin crawled under his intrusive gaze, instinctively taking a small step backwards, creating a bit of space between them.

“What’s yours, big boy?” Scout replied, her tone laced with a sarcastic smirk. Her bravado was not well received by the man. He tilted his sunglasses down on the bridge of his nose, his calculating eyes taking in her appearance. Scout couldn't shake the feeling that she was being dissected like a specimen.

Her baggy shirt hung loose, practically covering her Snoopy pajama shorts. It was apparent she wasn't wearing a bra, a detail that seemed to draw his gaze and press him forward. His eyes lingered on her with unsettling intensity, and she clenched her jaw to keep from showing her discomfort. “Nice Snoopy shorts,” he commented with a lecherous grin. “Pretty short, huh? Not leaving much to the imagination.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” the cashier chimed in, joining the unsettling conversation. “She’s too pretty, it’s a free show for us.” The cashier laughed, shaking his head.

Scout's stomach churned at their crude conversation.

“I can show you what I keep hidden in my shorts.” she responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She batted her eyelashes playfully at the man, her hand inching toward her waist in a slow, deliberate motion. The man raised his eyebrows, intrigued, and the cashier let out a low whistle as he stood up from his stool. In a swift motion, the girl held her gun up to his head and pressed the trigger without hesitation.

Blood splattered everywhere.

“What the fuck–” Scout moved her gaze over to the cashier who threw the pocketknife he way. She dodged it easily before pulling the trigger again, shooting him straight in the forehead.

The sound of her gun firing reverberated through the store, a sharp crack that shattered the eerie silence and caught the attention of the men hiding in the freezers. Panic and confusion washed over their faces as they scrambled to react.

Their aims were messy, a cacophony of wild shots fired in her direction, their desperation palpable. But Scout was in her element now. With precision and ease, she countered each shot, the echoes of her own gunfire blending with the dissonance of their futile attempts.

She continued to pull the trigger, each bullet finding its mark with chilling accuracy. As she mowed down the goons one by one, the rhythmic notes of her jazz music played on in her ears.Her therapist recommended listening to jazz to soothe her mind.

Her therapist was right, this was soothing.

The girl was in a trance as she aimed her gun at each of the creeps. Her mind operated on autopilot, and she hardly had to think about anything. This was second nature to her; she could do it with her eyes closed. The adrenaline surged through her, almost feeling addicting in some strange way. This was her element—she had been trained to be this efficient, this callous.

“Do you just kill without a mask on? You should really protect your identity.” Scout’s trance shattered by a voice, chiding her, cutting through the silence. Her fingers tightened around the gun in her hand, glancing down at the weapon, her palms stained red. Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder, finding a suited man with a mask standing behind her. His head was tilted to the side, appearing curious.

Lifeless bodies scattered on the convenience store floor, blood pooling at her sneakers, and the stranger didn’t flinch at the sight.

Given the circumstances, his tone was strangely casual. Observing the girl, he chuckled, a hint of amusement. “Are you wearing pajamas too?”

Scout's heart raced as she faced this unexpected intruder. Her therapist's jazz music still played softly in the background, a stark contrast to the mayhem that had unfolded.

Scout scolded herself for dissociating; she was being reckless, and she had promised Harcourt she would keep a low profile.

The girl crossed her arms, mimicking his head tilt–he seemed oddly at ease amidst the carnage at their feet. He approached one of the bodies and lifted it by the back of their head. “You beat me to it,” he tsked, dropping the head back into a puddle of their own blood and turning his attention back to Scout.

“Who are you?” Scout furrowed her brows, watching the mysterious figure nonchalantly walk around the convenience store, picking up random items off the counter, reading the ingredients.

“Vigilante. Some call me Vig, but you can call me Vigilante–we aren’t friends yet.” He replied, his words carrying a rambling, carefree quality that contrasted sharply with the macabre scene around them.

“And what did I beat you to, Vigilante?”

"Oh, these were awful men. I've been tracking them for a few days after overhearing something on the street. There are just so many gas stations here in Evergreen. So, I went to all of them, listening and observing to find the traffickers. Tonight, I wanted to check out this place, and what do I find? You're killing like a motherfucker. It's impressive. Kind of hot too," he replied, his words a strange mixture of admiration and amusement as he put his hands on his hips.

“Thanks,” Scout nodded her head, acknowledging Vigilante’s words, her mind processing the fact that he didn’t seem to pose an immediate threat to her. Carefully, she stepped over the lifeless bodies, their blood splattered against the skin of her bare legs. Her eyes scanned the aisles of the store as she moved, while he couldn’t remove his gaze off her legs. Faint music played in the background, some of the most popular songs in the world.

“So, you’re new to Evergreen. It’s hard to not miss when someone is new to the town–especially when they start murdering people.” Vigilante started, following close behind the girl. “But you murdered bad guys, so I’m fine with that–really. I think I’ve only killed a few people by accident–even then, mistakes happen.” She could have sworn he looked up at her for validation regarding that statement. “I’m just happy that there is one less murderer in the area, you know?”

Technically, there would be a new murderer in town.

"Usually, when I do this, no one sees me. So, don't tell anyone about me, okay?" she warned, her voice carrying a hint of a threat, pushing her finger into his chest as she stared through the red visor. “Or else you will join the guys on the ground over there.” She added, a sweet smile playing on her lips. She held bags of chips and candy in her free hand, the casualness of her appearance contrasting starkly with the gruesome scene around them.

Vigilante’s eyes remained locked onto Scout’s hand as it rested on his chest, his gaze unyielding. Her threat was adorable to him. “Do you have a name I can call you by?”

“Scout,” she replied simply as she placed her items on the counter and pulled out her wallet to lay a crisp twenty-dollar bill down. Despite the obscured visor, she had a sense that Vigilante was watching her, and he didn’t seem to make any effort to hide his curiosity. His eyes raked over her body.

Vigilante’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but comment, “You’re paying for those items? That’s kind of hot. Following the law and everything.” He leaned against one of the aisles, knocking over a few bowls of ramen. His words seemed to tumble out of his mouth, and his tone shifted as he continued, “I was going to see if you were stealing because then we would have a problem, Scout. And I don’t want you to be a problem.”

Scout doubt that Vigilante would do anything to her, he seemed like a fucked up puppy to her.

She blinked a few times, processing Vigilante’s ramblings. “Why would it be a problem if I didn’t pay? Because it’d be stealing?” Her eyes flickered to the dead bodies on the floor, before going back to the masked individual. She’s trying to make sense of his logic.

"Exactly!" Vigilante exclaimed, clapping his gloved hands together. "You get it. All crimes are crimes."

Scout couldn't help but add, "Except when you kill the criminal," reminding herself of her own justifications for her actions. She believed that what she did wasn't a crime but rather a necessary service to rid the streets of vile people. She was relieved to find someone who seemed to share her thought process to some extent.

She nodded her head in understanding, feeling a strange connection with Vigilante at that moment.

She wouldn’t kill a thief for taking a few bags of chips and a candy bar, but apparently Vigilante would.

“I don't think all of this adds up to twenty bucks. Go pick something out,” Scout suggested to Vigilante, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. As she spoke, her gaze settled on him. Vigilante’s posture perked up as he scanned the dimly lit aisles, counting out loud the prices of various items he selected.

Vigilante's posture perked up as he scanned the dimly lit aisles of the convenience store. He counted out loud the prices of various items, his gloved finger hovering over each one as if he were solving a puzzle.

He took his time, his indecision evident in the way he debated between the options. The overhead fluorescent lights cast eerie shadows across his masked face, accentuating the red visor covering his eyes. Considering his choices, Scout found herself observing him more closely. His sweet tooth was apparent; his hands hovered over more candy selections than the chips or jerky. He even contemplated a protein bar before settling on a Snickers bar. Vigilante gathered all of his cravings and placed them on the counter.

With their selections bagged separately, they made their way to the store's exit. The automatic door slid open with a soft whoosh, and the cool evening breeze of Evergreen swept over them. The streetlights overhead cast a warm, amber glow onto the two figures. Vigilante towered over Scout in height, his identity shrouded in secrecy beneath his costume, while she stood there in her blood-stained pajamas, an unusual and striking contrast.

“Are you not going to eat anything I just got you?” Scout popped a Skittle into her mouth as they walked, savoring the sugary taste. She sucked on the candy between her teeth, enjoying the distraction. Given the considerable time Vigilante spent debating over his choices, she had anticipated he would dive straight into his snacks.

“I can't risk you seeing me eat. You can see my chin and then my lips—and that's one-third of a face. You could easily pick me out in a lineup,” he said, his tone serious. His masked visage stared at her through the red visor.

Vigilante’s response brought a smirk to Scout’s lips and a scoff, “You’re something else.” She tilted her head upward, meeting his obscured gaze. There was an appreciative glint in her brown eyes for his dedication.

“Sorry Scout, I don’t murder people in my pajamas recklessly. I would be able to pick you out in a crowd of people. Short girl, brown eyes—is that a Jewish nose? Brown hair, possibly in her pajamas, she got these nice lips, she scowls a lot too—“

Scout couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Vigilante's meticulous description of her features. She found herself both amused and intrigued by his attention to detail amidst their unusual meeting. The two vigilantes walked back to her place in the dead of the night.

“I don’t scowl a lot.” She retorted playfully, her lips curving into a grin. Part of him reminded Scout of Peter.

No.

She popped another Skittle into her mouth.

“You’re scowling right now, Scout. Like you’re permanently frowning or lost in thought.” Vigilante observed, with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Are you not worried about wrinkles when you’re older?”

Scout stopped scowling at his comment and looked at him curiously. “Would you snitch on me in a line up?”

“Uh, probably not. You’d probably be dead because I would take care of it before the cops.” Vigilante replied with a nonchalant shrug, after a moment of silence and tapping his chin.

“Huh,” she mused, considering the implications of his response.

“Would you?”

“I ain’t doing any work for the cops. They can’t get shit done, so yeah—you’d be dead because I would take care of it before them,” she responded matter-of-factly. She shook her Skittles bag, looking through the remaining colors.

Vigilante paused their conversation, which caught Scout’s attention. She stopped in her tracks, the unspoken tension hanging in the air. “What?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a touch of wariness.

“Nothing,” Vigilante replied, his voice taking on a slightly higher pitch, trying to divert her attention from the fact he was sporting an inconvenient hard-on at the moment. He couldn't help but imagine her hands around him, reminiscent of how she handled the gun. “Did you walk all the way here?” He asked, changing the subject.

Scout, a master of reading between the lines, recognized the shift in their conversation. She responded with a hint of sarcasm, "Yeah. That’s why I wore my sneakers and not my slippers." She observed him slowly before deciding to continue walking.

“Huh. That’s fair.” Vigilante remarked, his voice betraying the lingering tension in the air. “You have to have good foot support. I can’t imagine anything bad happening to my toes. I wear steel-toed boots just in case,” Vigilante explained.

"Do you really?" Scout inquired, her gaze flickering down at his shoes and then back up to his uniform, her curiosity about him piqued.

"Why would I lie about what shoes I wear?" he retorted, a perplexed expression crossing his masked face.

“You got me there.” She was unable to suppress a small chuckle at the absurdity of the conversation, as if their whole interaction wasn’t absurd.

“Is Scout your real name?” Vigilante asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. The silence between them had grown for a moment, making them both a bit uneasy. It was bold for someone to ask them their name without even wanting to eat in front of them–for risk of identity.

“No, it’s my alias.” She dismissed, small laughter leaving her lips as if it was her real name. She doesn’t know Vigilante well enough, but she had a hunch he would laugh at her name.

“What’s your real name? You don’t look like a Scout, but I guess the more I say it, the more you could be a Scout. Were you a Girl Scout?” Vigilante rambled off a line of questions, genuinely intrigued by her.

“No, I was a sniper scout in the Marines.” She raised an eyebrow, “Sorry, Vigilante, only friends can call me my real name.” She paused for a moment, reflecting on how long it had been since someone had used her real name. The weight of her history lingered in the air, the memories of those long-gone days resurfacing in her mind.

Now is not the time.

“I think we’re friends now.” Vigilante noted with a smile, though his expression remained concealed behind his mask. He had yet to share any real information about himself, other than the implication of friends and he’s been in Evergreen for a long period of time.

“It doesn’t take long to be your friend, then.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek and shrugged her shoulders. She casted furtive glances at Vigilante, attempting to discern any hint of his features that played in the shadows and light.

“Are you just walking me all the way back to my place?” Scout soon realized they were practically at her place, the temporary hotel room she would call home for the duration of her mission.

The night had settled around the two, casting a serene hush over the empty streets as a symphony of crickets filled the air with their songs. “Yeah, it’s dangerous outside.” Vigilante replied, his masked face turning toward the streets. “Not every night, but most.”

Scout smiled, concealing a laugh by popping a few more skittles in her mouth. As if she just didn’t murder three grown men a few blocks away at this point. She didn’t want to think that Vigilante was walking her home–it meant something sweet to her, somewhere in her mind. Her guard was down while walking beside Vigilante. Part of her enjoyed the feeling of relaxing, while the other made her anxious.

She reached her destination, jiggling her keys into the doorknob with Vigilante holding her bag of snacks from the convenience store. “You’re staying here?” He asked.

“It’s not shabby…you can come in if you’d like.” Scout offered.

“Really?” Vigilante replied with a touch of surprise in his voice.

“Get in before I regret it.”

Vigilante walked into her room without another word. His eyes flickered around the place, noting how organized she kept it. The room smelt of a sweet candle, not a crumb on any of her surfaces, and her bed sheets neatly tucked. Maybe she was psycho.

Scout moved around the room with the same fluidity and precision that he had witnessed earlier in her actions. She stowed her gun away in the nightstand, all the while Vigilante observed her with a keen eye. As if she was a well-oiled machine, each action deliberate and efficient.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than he intended, although shamelessly, his thoughts drifting into dangerous territory. Her slender figure, the way her pajamas hung off her body, all of it was impossible for him to ignore, especially with the blood that splattered on her skin.

“You have blood on the back of your leg.” He closed the distance between them to point out the stain on her legs. She tilted her head upward, attempting to meet his gaze through the visor, while his obscured eyes were locked onto her’s. With a nonchalant toss, he discarded his gloves on the floor, his thumb moving to delicately wipe away the crimson mark from her cheek. His hands bore the unmistakable roughness of calloused fingers. “You also have blood on your cheek too.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as the two stood in such close proximity.

“I saw you take condoms from the convenience store.” Scout broke the silence, confronting Vigliante, her voice steady but laced with curiosity. She didn’t move away from him, his hand still on her cheek.

“What?” He stammered, caught off guard by her observation. His usual composure slipped momentarily. He withdrew his hand from her cheek, only for her to seize his wrist and encircled it with her thin fingers.

“Were they for me?” Scout asked unapologetically.

“Pft, no. That’s kind of crazy. Right?” Vigilante attempted to deflect the question, sounding unsure of himself. This marked a stark contrast to his earlier assurance throughout the night.

“No, not really.” Scout responded with a teasing smirk.

“Are you flirting with me?” Vigilante asked, a hint of incredulity in his tone.

“You’re the one that bought condoms.” Glancing at the bag on the table, she noticed the faint outline of the condom box through the sheer plastic.

“Yea, it was hot watching you kill those men in Snoopy pajamas.” He tried defending himself, but only admitting the truth. Vigilante’s fingers tentatively tugging at the hem of her shorts, his touch grazing her thigh.

He was succumbing to his instincts.

“Because they’re short?” She narrowed her eyes at him, skeptical, wondering if Vigilante could kill the mood if he managed to repeat the unsettling words that the creeps had spoken to her that lead to their demise.

“That’s a bonus, but just the fact they’re pajamas is what made it hot—“ Before Vigilante could complete his thought, Scout leaned in to Vigilante, pressing up on her toes to reach him. Her fingers inching towards the hem of his mask, her fingers hooking underneath. He quickly reacted, yanking her hand away.

“What the fuck?” She whispered, this time she withdrew her hand from him.

“No, you can see my face in a line up if I ever get arrested.” he protested, his hands gripping onto her hips now. She could feel his fingers digging into her skin, his voice not matching his actions.

“Really?” Scout raised an eyebrow, full of disbelief.

“Really.” He never sounded so sure of himself–despite the urge to kiss her, to devour and get a taste. His thumb grazed over her lip, slightly tugging downwards on it.

“So you’re going to fuck me without your lips?”

“Sorry Scout—either it's a mask on or nothing at all.”

A silent beat passed over the two. “You’re lucky I think you’re hot with a mask on.” She whispered, her hands pressed against his chest before pushing him down on the bed. She slowly crawled on top of him, splitting her legs so she could sit on his hips. Her brown hair cascaded around her face as she looked at the details of Vigilante’s suit.

Vigilante’s heart began to race at the sight of her hovering over her. His eyes flickered around the features of her face. Vigilante laid there considering the consequences of taking off his mask. He could keep his identity safe or be able to taste her lips–or even bite down on them, taste the salt on her skin, tug on the soft flesh of her thighs and taste her.

“Take off your suit.” She ordered, her hand tracing out the details of his suit. Her voice brought him out of his thoughts and he nodded his head. Eagerly, he began unbuckling his belt. Scout grew impatient, watching his hands scramble. She yanked the belt off herself and Vigilante lifted his hips in the air as she pulled off the thick fabric.

Vigilante’s cock sprung against his stomach, thick and heavy.

“You go commando in your suit?” She whispered, a bit amused, as his pants piled on the floor. She lifted herself off of Vigilante, slipping in between his legs and resting on her knees at the foot of the bed. Vigilante leaned on his elbows to catch the sight of Scout.

“Sometimes, I don’t like the feeling of my boxers and–” He gasped when he felt her thumb run over his tip, smearing the beads of precum. He watched in awe as she brought the thumb to her lips, tasting him. She kept her eyes trained on him–her confidence intimidating Vigilante, but turning him on immensely–his cock throbbing.

Gently, Scout took it in one hand, admiring that her fingers barely wrapped around its girth. She wrapped her lips around the head, flicking her tongue over it. A loud moan escaped Vigilante’s mouth, sounding muffled from the mask, as his hips bucked into her mouth involuntarily. He leaned up more, his hands pulling on her hair.

“Fuck, you got a pretty little mouth, Scout.” He sucked in air harshly through his teeth.

Scout pumped the base with her hand as her tongue dragged against the prominent vein on his cock to the tip. He tugged a handful of her hair. The girl hummed as she bobbed her head, hollowing out her cheeks. Vigilante’s head tilted backwards. “You feel so fucking good,” Vigilante praised Scout. When she hummed again, his hips jerked until he hit the back of her throat. She gagged—he wanted to ask if it was okay, but she kept going.

She felt her cheeks burn at the praise, pressing her thighs tightly together to give some friction to her throbbing clit as she focused on Vigilante’s cock. She would never admit how much she’s enjoying being praised by him. The taste, the weight of Vigilante’s cock in her mouth and the sounds he was making–it soaked her pajama shorts. His cock felt so heavy on her tongue and in her throat, Scout might even consider this therapeutic.

Vigilante pulled on her hair harder, his hand deciding the pace for her, the tempo increasing with every pump. Tears pricked down her face, her mouth dripping with drool, and her breathing ragged from getting fucked in the throat.

“S’pretty when you take me in like this. I thought you were cute killing those men, but the sight of you choking on my cock has to be a top favorite.” Vigilante tugged on her hair more, a moan wrapped around his cock. He pulled her back for a moment, his thumb wiping away the spit dripping from her chin.

Scout looked up at Vigilante with her wide, teary eyes and he dropped the hold he hand on her hair before stripping off his suit's top. All the armor clanked to the floor and she slowed her movement down, pulling away from his cock with a pop.

“You’re such a good girl, Scout. Fucking gorgeous when you’re a mess.” Vigilante praised, looking down at her.

Scout wanted to yank the mask off his face and see who was praising her like this.

His chest was covered in freckles and a few scars. He lifted her chin up, wiping her face from all her drool, guiding her off her knees. Her movements were so mesmerizing–Vigilante swore everything was in slow motion as she stripped off her shirt and shorts. She shimmied out of them, her skin looked soft as velvet. A gnarly scar on her arm caught his attention, but was quickly redirected.

“Get your ass over here,” Vigilante grumbled, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her on top of him. His hands immediately cupped her breast, fondling the swells. His fingers pinched and twisted her nipples, a mewl leaving her lips. Her voice sounded more raspy from sucking him off than it did earlier. He pulled on her nipple before pressing his mask into her chest.

He looked at her tits in awe, as if they were a new shiny gun in his arsenal.

And Scout could safely say no one ever motorboated her with a mask on.

She pressed her body against his, feeling his cock pressed the inside of her thigh. She never thought she would appreciate the warmth of his chest. Her hands gripped onto his broad shoulders, her hands moving down to squeeze his biceps. The girl grinded her hips against his, lifting herself upward to feel his tip grazing her entrance. His hands dropped from her tits and squeezed her ass, followed by a spank.

“Fuck Vig,” she gasped. Vigilante guided her hips downwards, her wet slicks soaking the tip of his dick.

“I guess you can call me Vig, I think we’re friends. Really good friends, but not my best—” Scout sat on his cock, causing the both to gasp. His fingers dug into the soft skin of her ass as she bounced against his hips.

She leaned back, her hands supporting herself on his knees. Vigilante’s eyes raked over her body, enjoying the sight of her tits bouncing and how she chewed on her lower lip, her breath hitching when he would rut his hips upwards.

He brought his hand to her clit, massaging in a circle motion with his thumb. Scout squeezed her thighs, clenching her walls around him. He watched through the red visor of his cock disappearing inside of her with each roll of her hips.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Riding me like that?” He groaned, his hands moving to grip into her thighs, her skin softer than velvet. “S’fucking pretty,” she still had blood on her face. His hand cupped her jaw, pulling him in close to her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as her knees dug into the mattress to support her.

Vigilante dragged his finger against her lips and she bit down on it. He enjoyed that more than he should have. Her lips wrapped around his thumb, her tongue pressed against his digit.

“I wish I could sit on your face. It would be so nice, Vig. You just need to lift your mask, even just above the lips.” Her voice is soft against his finger. Scout gently grazed the hem of his mask again, her eyes peering into the red visor. “With all your talkin’, I’m sure you know how to use your mouth—“

But god, he’s already feeling how warm and tight her pussy was.

“Scout, no—“

The girl halted in her movements against his dick. She’s scowling again, despite Vigilante’s thumb massaging her clit and how she shuddered underneath his touch. His hands felt drawn to her hips, wanting to keep her moving, but he was focused on her voice.

“Fuck me from behind, Vig.”

“What?”

“I said fuck me from behind. You don’t deserve to see my face if I can’t see yours.”

Something about Scout ordering Vigilante made him weak. He wanted to obey her. Maybe it’s her pretty eyes or the control she held over him as she sat on his cock, warming him. Or maybe no other girl had really bossed him around in the bedroom before—no other girl came onto Vigilante like this in general.

Vigilante didn’t miss a beat. His hands lifted underneath her thighs, off his cock, and flipped her over on the mattress onto her back. She knew exactly what she wanted as she sat on all fours for him. She taunted him, swaying her ass in front of him.

Standing up from the mattress, he stood at the edge of the bed and yanked her hips closer to him. A squeal escaped her lips, not expecting Vigilante to pull so hard.

“I’m going to ruin you tonight, okay?” He teased her pussy, his tip slipping through her folds. She’s whining, her hands are gripping onto the bed sheets. Her back muscles flexed and he admired the dimples on her lower back. “But in a way you would enjoy, because this is supposed to be fun–two consenting adults and–” Vigilante rambled, his hands rubbing his cock against her slit, covering his length in his juices.

“Vig,” she whined, the sound cutting off his rambling. His rough hand pressed down on her back, lifting her ass in the air more. Vigilante spanked her, the loud clap echoed through the room.

“What was that for?” She sounded breathless, almost desperate to get fucked right now. Vigilante admired the vibrant red print he left on her ass. “You’re whining. Good girls don’t whine, do they?” His fingers dug into the folds of her hips, the roughness of his hands pressed against her stomach.

Scout didn’t necessarily know the man teasing her, but enough to know he was fucked in the head and how to make her pussy throb. She hated being told what to do, but the way his voice sounded and how his touch affected her, maybe she would cave into her desires for once.

The moan that escaped Scout’s lips when Vigilante barely put the tip in would be a memory he would masturbate too. He kept her back pushed down as he slipped his cock into her wet, warm pussy. Scout pressed her face into the sheets of her bed, her nails dragging against the fabric.

Once Vigilante felt her walls stretch fully around his cock, he let out a sigh. Scout didn’t expect it to feel such a struggle—she had to sleep with bigger men than him before, right? She had a fling with a Gotham vigilante, broad shoulders and a red mask—he was a lot to handle.

Before Scout had a moment to think of anything else, Vigilante grabbed a handful of hair, pulling her head back before thrusting in and out of Scout. He easily found a steady tempo with an aggressive, harsh thrust. The sound of his skin hitting against her as his balls slapped against her clit was intoxicating to the two.

“Fuck, Scout–you feel so good–Fuck, fuck-” Vigilante cursed through gritted teeth, almost whimpering as he felt her clench around him. Her body jiggled with each thrust, the bed creaking at his rhythm.

“Vig,” Scout moaned, his hips snapping against her reddened ass. Between a thrust, Vigilante would spank her, again, again, and again. The soft flesh turned from red to purple in moments. He could sense Scout was growing weak from the position as he felt him needing to support under her stomach more.

“You're such a good girl for me, Scout.” Vigilante pulled on her hair more, pulling her now against his chest. He let go of her hair, a hand cupping one of her boobs, still providing her support, while he began massaging her clit again. “Be a good girl and stay up for me,” He whispered into her ear. She nodded her head, a gasp leaving her lips as he continued to roll his hips into her and thumbed her sensitive nub.

A euphoria she had barely remembered grew in the pit of her stomach. Her legs were shaking, unsure if it’s from the position or Vigilante. His hand trailed from her breast and wrapped around her throat. She whimpered at the feeling, her hand wrapping around his wrist. The man could feel her walls convulse around his cock, a cheeky grin grew on his face.

“Come on, Scout, you can cum for me. Be a good girl, cum all over my cock.” He whispered in her ear. She whined and nodded her head and her grasp around her throat tightened. Scout let out a gasp, her body tightening as she covered his dick with her juices. The feeling of her throbbing almost pushed Vigilante to the edge.

“Good girl, fuck—you’re going to make me cum.” His grip all around her body tightened as he picked up his pace. Scout still riding her high felt extra sensitive and removed his hand from her clit. Suddenly, Vigilante pushed her back down flat on the bed. His hand planted on the back of her head as he rammed into her sopping pussy.

“Vigilante–please,” She whined, her hands gripping onto the sheets. When she said his full name, something in him unraveled. His cum painted white streaks inside of her, coating her walls and filling her up good. His thrust slowed down, but he could feel his cock twitching inside of her.

The two were out of breath, ragged breathing as he pulled out of her. For a brief moment, he watched his cum drip out of her. Vigilante took a deep breath in, placing his hands on his hips.

“Fuck that was really good. Like really good. Maybe it’s because we didn’t use the condoms I bought.” His eyes flickered over to the table, untouched. His face flushed underneath the mask, taking in the sight of Scout on the bed. At that comment, the girl groaned.

“Oh! Let me get you cleaned up.” Vigilante walked around her room, poking through the doors until he found the bathroom. He got a wet rag before coming out to see Scout still laying on the bed. She flinched when the rag touched her inner thigh, but his touch was gentle as he took care of her.

“I can’t believe you’re still wearing the mask.” She breathed out, looking over her shoulder to see Vigilante, nude–other than the red visor peering back at her. Once he finished cleaning her, she sat up in bed, looking at him intently. Vigilante cleaned himself with the same rag before just tossing it on the ground, unaware of where to put it.

“My friend is never going to believe I slept with someone like you. He’d be so proud–” Vigilante sat back on the bed, his hand on her thigh. Scout raised an eyebrow, almost confused as to why he would bring up a friend so early after having sex.

“Right,” She cleared her throat, her eyes still glued onto the man in front of her. Swallowing, she pulled on her blankets and covered herself. Her hair sprawled out on the pillow below her. Vigilante gawked at her, admiring each of her movements.

“Can we do this again? Like soon? You’re really fun to hang out with. Maybe I can let you know about the next criminal–”

“Vigilante, do you want to cuddle with me? Stay the night?” Scout interrupted him, her eyes trained on his mask. The sheets felt cold and crisp on her skin. Parts of her body were stinging from the grasp Vigilante had on her body. She couldn’t shake the flustered feeling in her body.

“Am I allowed? Usually I’m not asked to stick around for this part.” If she could see underneath his mask, it would be a look of awe and hesitancy.

"Probably because keeping the mask on for a sleepover is a bit weird," Scout retorted, her playful tone breaking the tension. Vigilante meant even when he was out of his suit and as himself, not the superhero, he never got to stick around. Vigilante decided it wasn’t important to share that information.

With a hint of eagerness, Vigilante scrambled over to Scout and slid under the sheets alongside her. He wasted no time in pulling her close, his arm wrapping around her waist. The sudden movement elicited a surprised squeak from Scout.

Scout blinked for a moment, realizing she was letting Vigilante spoon her—not as if he was balls deep into her moments ago. She snuggled into his side, a bit hesitant. Not with Vigilante, but with herself.

Scout had built a protective emotional barrier around herself, especially when dealing with people in their line of work. But at that moment, she couldn't deny the longing she felt for human connection, the simple comfort of someone's presence in the stillness of the night.

Vigilante, masked and mysterious as he was, didn't immediately sense the tension within her. He nuzzled his masked face into the crook of her neck, unaware of the intricate layers of emotion and vulnerability hidden behind Scout's tough exterior.

“Goodnight, Scout.” He whispered into her ear.

“Goodnight, Vig,” She mumbled, closing her eyes.

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