#a day in the life of economos

[peacemakersocials]

[bippot]

Calendar Girl - Before

Story Summary -> When his buddy goes missing, Adrian spends all of his time and energy trying to get her back to him. Because they're friends. Nothing more.

Tags -> Violence, Blood and Gore, Kidnapping, Mommy Issues, Idiots in Love, Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence, Stabbing, Gun Violence, Knives, Murder, Threats of Violence, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Valentine's Day

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13th of February

Adrian was going insane. For the last 48 hours, he'd been on patrol nonstop, and, for the first time ever, it wasn't out of a want to do so. No. He needed to. Every thug and criminal held the possibility to give him what he wanted: a location.

Y/N had been kidnapped, and they had no idea where the hell she was. 

It was unlike her to go no contact, so when Adrian hadn't received a text or even a simple meme in over 12 hours, he got a bit anxious. That was only made worse when he brought up his worries with Harcourt, who usually teased him for being so clingy to the new girl, but she agreed with him. Obviously, that wasn't normal. Emilia never agreed with him.

Thanks to the high-stakes nature of the 11th Street Kids, official members - everyone but Vigilante - were required to check in at 8am, 12pm, 4pm, and 8pm. There were a few times when someone missed one (it was so unlikely that Peacemaker would be awake at 8am that Harcourt stopped expecting that one from him), but once someone missed an entire day's worth, it was officially a cause for concern.

John hacked into the security camera of the corner shop that was opposite Y/N's apartment, and after skimming along the footage for the day, he came across the exact moment where the incident occurred. At 1 am on the 12th of February, a black van pulled up outside her place, 4 bald tattooed guys went in, and then 6 minutes later, they exited with a knocked-out woman in their arms. The men proceeded to place her in the back of the van and left, not even bothering to close the front door behind them. Was it random? Or had someone from Y/N's past come back for vengeance?

And now Adrian had a vendetta with every single bald man in the world. As soon as he knew what type of person to look for, he was on the hunt. He'd made a few mistakes, that's true - thanks to a particularly awkward interaction he had with a teenage boy going through chemotherapy, Adrian was planning to make a hefty donation to charity as soon as this ordeal was over - but if he had to accuse everyone with male pattern baldness of being a dickhead, he was going to do it.

Y/N was worth it. Everyone since she joined the team, Adrian's life had significantly improved. She was kind and friendly and pretty, and she always treated him like an equal. Y/N was easy to be around. The entire team thought so too.

Emilia and Y/N had known each other for years. While Emilia had been working under Waller, Y/N had been feeding her any information that she found out that could get Emilia out of her employment. Any titbit of gossip, allegation, or piece of intel she could get her hands on was passed along. Hell, Y/N may have even tortured a bad guy or two to help Emilia. Harcourt wasn't one for friends, but if she were one, Y/N would be classified as her dearest.

The immense stress of Coverdale Ranch had caused Economos to develop frequent and all-consuming migraines. Y/N was just the best when it came to comforting him while one came on, with Leota coming in second (she lost a few points because she gets flustered by silence and becomes overly talkative to offset that). Whether it was appealing to Harcourt's humanity in order to get John a paid sick day, ensuring the backroom was a stimuli-free space on the days when her appeals didn't work, or diverting the two very loud, very annoying heroes away from HQ so there was some semblance of peace, John was always grateful for Y/N's empathy.

Chris liked that Y/N could take his teasing and give it back. Her wit was sharp, and her humour was black. Although she didn't always agree with what Peacemaker said, she had a comeback ready every time. It was a delight to argue with her.

Adebayo loved how normal Y/N seemed. John was a hacker, and he acted exactly as you'd think a hacker would act. Harcourt was far too closed off to truly know. There were so many layers of bullshit hiding Peace's real personality that looking past that was tiring sometimes. And Vigilante was... well, Leota had no idea what went on in Adrian's head, and she simply didn't want to know.

Hours before Y/N was kidnapped, Leota had been at her apartment. Keeya had gotten a little angry at her because they were supposed to have gone on a romantic holiday to Paris, but because of Leota's work, they had to push it back. So, Adebayo decided to give her wife some space and sought refuge with her coworker. The pair ordered some pizza, drank some wine, and watched a crappy movie. Their friendship was so beautifully normal that Leota was thankful for the simplicity.

Though he hadn't disclosed it, 20 minutes after Adebayo had left Y/N's apartment that night, another one of the 11th Street Kids showed up. 

Now, Adrian was punching his way through half of the criminal underworld for even a smidgen of information about Y/N. The thing was, none of those people seemed to know anything at all. That was until Vigilante came across two bald drug dealers that had tattoos of a simple line drawing of a calendar on the left side of their neck. Bald. ✔️ Tattooed. ✔️ Criminal. ✔️ Based on the criteria he'd been provided, these guys fit so Adrian prepared to fuck these guys up on sight.

The dealers were arguing about something when Vigilante approached. He grabbed one by the scruff of his shirt and slammed him up against the wall, then had the barrel gun pressed against the other man's neck in seconds. "Where is your boss?" Adrian yelled.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Wrong answer," Vigilante said, pulling the trigger and blowing out the man's skull. He then turned the gun on the guy against the wall. "Want to end up like your buddy?"

"No."

"Imma say this one more time: where is your boss?"

"I'll tell you everything," the dealer whined, raising his hands above his head in surrender, and then the criminal vomited a bunch of vital info in one big, long breath.

Vigilante dragged the dealer, who he found out was called Gustin, into HQ and shoved the guy into the centre of the room, pointing his gun at him and ordering, "Tell them what you told me."

The other members of the 11th Street Kids just stared as this unfolded. Did they expect this? No, not exactly. Did they understand why Adrian was treating this random man so harshly? No, they never knew why he did what he did. Was the hope that they finally had a lead more consuming than their shock? Why, yes. Yes, it was.

"This girl you're looking for," Gustin began, looking from person to person. He was met with five annoyed faces. "I know where she is."

"Well, spill it!" Adrian demanded. 

Gustin continued, "She's being held in the old warehouse just next to Hurtz Lane. Our boss has her in the basement."

John immediately typed that into Google Maps and found the location. After a minute of searching, he realised that the warehouse was a few hours away from where they were currently located.

Chris lowered Adrian's gun away from the shaking criminal. He didn't even need to see his buddy's face to know that he was tired - the way he was slowly swaying from side to side gave it all away. "Bud, you should nap. I'll keep an eye on this douchewad," he said, pointing to Gustin.

Adrian seemed to consider that for the briefest of moments. Then, as swift as lightning, he pulled one of his knives off his belt and jabbed it in Gustin's direction. "What does your boss want with Y/N? Is she even still alive?" he pressed, eyes boring into Gustin's soul.

"She's alive! She's still alive! He wants somebody special to spend the holiday with."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Valentine's Day!" the man babbled. "It's his favourite."

"Who?"

"Calendar Man!"

Peacemaker let out a groan, muttering, "Fuckin' Calendar Man."

Though Peace had been in Belle Reve with Calendar Man, he had no clue about the extent of his crimes. Harcourt and Economos, on the other hand, weren't as glib. They knew. Harcourt nodded toward the hacker, and John quickly began to whip up a PowerPoint to go over everything because that was the only way that the heroes absorbed information. As much as they made fun of him for it, John knew that this bit of minor labour was beneficial to the mission. They needed to be prepared when it came to Calendar Man.

Gustin proceeded to spill his guts. He told them literally everything they needed to know.

"Cool, you're going to take me and Peace to wherever he's at. If you try to run, I'll stab you in the fucking nuts," Vigilante threatened, resting the blade against Gustin's throat. "We're going in guns blazing, gonna be shooting every motherfucker in sight."

"...Vij, no," Chris sighed.

"Vigilante, there are two of you and, judging by what Gustin has told us, up to fifty of them," Leota countered. They needed a plan. It was sweet how much he wanted to save her, but he would get himself killed in the process.

2 vs. 50? Vigilante thought he could take that. Even if Peacemaker was too much of a pussy to try, he could take that all by himself if he had to.

"Fuck you guys. I'm going by myself."

Chris managed to stop him before he got out of the door, grabbing his wrist and tugging him back so he wouldn't leave. Vigilante tried yanking his arm out of Chris's grip, but his pal didn't let go.

"Dude, think it through," Chris pleaded. "It could turn ugly fast. I hate to sound like such a dick, but having prep time will help. If they expect that you're coming, he'll kill Y/N. You don't want her to get fucked up. I know you don't, bro. Just wait a little."

It made Adrian annoyed that he wanted to tear his friend's throats out, but he knew that would be a dumb move. Y/N was still in danger, and he needed to keep his mind primed and ready. Still, if he killed Gustin, that wouldn't cause all that much trouble. If anything, it would wipe another criminal off the street, which (to Adrian) is always a good thing. 

Partly because this guy was loosely related to Y/N going missing and mostly because Adrian had no idea where to focus his anger, the knife was plunged into the criminal's throat. His dying body slumped to the floor, the wound pouring blood, and Vigilante casually stepped over it like he was a puddle rather than a full human being.

"Fine. But if she's dead when we get there, I'm going to kill you."

He wasn't joking, and they knew that. A chill ran down their spines, and though they'd never taken Vigilante seriously before, feeling the seriousness behind those words was terrifying. Without another word, Adrian sat at the desk and waited for the presentation, his foot tapping nervously against the chair leg. He was unnervingly silent. The others stared at the dead guy lying in a pool of his blood, giving each other glances that spoke more than words ever could.

"Julian Gregory Day is a criminal mastermind who is obsessed with dates," Adebayo began. "On New Year's, he used a flamethrower to interrupt the annual Gotham Ball. And our reports say that last Valentine's Day, well, he..."

She trailed off, letting the next slide do the talking for her. The image on the screen was of someone who looked similar to Y/N with deep, dark purple bruises around her neck and jawline. Her mouth hung open while her eyes were staring lifelessly at nothing in particular, and a thin line of red leaked out from her nose, dripping down onto the white sheet that covered the concrete floor below her. Strangely, the woman was dressed impeccably. Her clothes looked brand new, expensive, and perfectly fitted to her body, and her hair was neatly styled around her head like a halo. There was no doubt that she would've been a total knockout when she was alive, but now with her dull skin and sunken features, there was an air of emptiness that surrounded her.

Adebayo noticed as Adrian shielded his eyes from the image, making sure not to look at the woman herself, and the way he shook his head a little after doing so, it was clear that he had caught a glimpse of the picture in question. Shying away from crime scene photos was so out of character - hell, he'd even committed acts way more violent than this - but Leota knew why he reacted the way he did. Everyone did. It was obvious.

There was a reason why he always insisted that he had to pair up with Y/N. There was a reason why he let her use his weapons. And there was a reason why he couldn't look at someone who looked like her in a position like that.

She continued her presentation, bringing up the blueprints of the building Y/N was being kept in and a live feed of the security cameras inside that Economos had hacked his way into. Sitting at a dinner opposite each other was Calendar Man and a shabbily dressed Y/N. Adrian's hand twitched at his side as he watched the interaction unfold in front of him, feeling absolutely helpless. He was so close yet so far from seeing Y/N again. This was torture on more levels than he could fathom. His emotions were running high enough as it was; he just hoped the adrenaline would eventually kick in and numb the pain.

All he could do was remember when he last saw her.

The 11th

Adebayo had just left with what was remaining of the pizza they ordered in a Tupperware in her hand and returned to Keeya for the night, so Y/N started to get ready for bed. Admittedly, it was a little early, but there's nothing wrong with an early night. Some beauty sleep never hurt anyone.

While in the process of changing into her PJs, three soft pings bounced off her bedroom window. She froze, her worn-in and cosy sleep shorts pulled up only to her knees. Another ping. Then another. Then she heard a very familiar whine, immediately dressed herself, and opened the window. Vigilante stood in her garden, clutching his side and making little yelps of pain whenever he moved.

"You can use the front door, y'know?" Y/N whisper-yelled down from her window, watching him as he perked up at her voice and waved at her with a fully crimson hand. "Fuck, that's a lot of blood."

In no time at all, she had him settled onto her couch and peeled away his suit to reveal a fairly large gash across his abdomen. It was gnarly and jagged, and if anyone else had been the recipient of that injury, she would've called an ambulance. Thanks to Adrian's healing factor, she knew he'd survive and be healed as if it had never happened within the next week if it was cared for properly, and Y/N was more than willing to care for him.

"What happened this time?"

Shrugging, he muttered, "This crazy guy on crack totally stabbed me."

"Dead?"

"He is now."

"Good," Y/N smirked. "That'll teach him."

Laying his head back against the arm of the chair, Adrian closed his eyes, trying to relax from the pain that was radiating through his body. Her affirmation of his skills pleased him to no end. He knew that Y/N appreciated his abilities and, despite what others might say, she was one of the few people who understood why he did what he did. It was nice to be understood and acknowledged, especially by her.

They'd been through this dance before - far too many times to count - and Y/N began to clean away all of his blood with one hand and held the other palm up for Adrian to grip onto. He'd never been good with pain and naturally was a loud boy, and those two factors didn't go well together. Mr. Barten next door had left a strongly worded letter under Y/N's door the last time this happened. Her neighbour had gotten the wrong idea about what was going on and had asked if Y/N would stop edging her incredibly loud boyfriend at 3am in the morning. The letter itself was written way more conservatively, but that was the general gist.

And that's why Leota always sedated him before she fixed his injuries.

Far too casually, Y/N asked, "Gag or no gag tonight?" and Adrian's cheeks flushed pink. Obviously, it was to muffle him to not rouse suspicion or any more noise complaints, but there was a sexual way to read her words.

"I'll keep it down."

"You sure?" 

With every swipe of the cloth against his blood-soaked abdomen, Adrian felt himself getting hotter. Sweat was already forming on his brow and upper lip as she continued cleaning him, but he didn't dare speak and just nodded and shook his head whenever she asked any more questions, lest he risk arousing suspicion. It wasn't that he liked pain - strangely enough, he wasn't a masochist - no, he just liked watching Y/N focus on him, taking care of him, and it was really quite nice. Holding her hand (more like squeezing, to be honest) was pretty awesome too.

Her lips pressed together in a tight line as she sanitised his wound, and she sighed, "You gotta be more careful, pumpkin. You know I don't like seeing you hurt."

"I know," Adrian mumbled, wincing at how tender the wound was compared to the rest of him. "But it's worth it to get to see you."

"You see me every day anyway," Y/N pointed out with a smile.

"Yeah, but everyone else is around. This is just us. I like just us."

"Me too, pumpkin. I like just us too," she cooed back, looking up at him before turning back to his wound.

The silence that stretched between them was comfortable, almost lulling as the seconds ticked by. She casually placed the first aid kit on his chest and searched for the needle to start stitching up his wounds. After a long minute of searching for the right needle - what's harder, a needle in a haystack or the right size needle in a clump of other needles? -  she finally found it and gently started fixing him up. 

Her fingers worked as she threaded the needle and tied off the suture thread, making quick work of the job, and Adrian was mesmerised by every detail that came into view. In just a matter of minutes, Adrian's wounds had been stitched up and wrapped, and he looked much better than he had when he first arrived. He was still pale, and his eyes were duller than usual, but at least he wasn't losing blood anymore.

"You wanna change into something comfy? Your pants are kinda bloody," Y/N suggested, picking up the first aid kit and putting it back into her drawer. "I have some sweatpants and a hoodie that should fit you somewhere. You could bring a set or two of spare clothes over for next time, if you'd like."

Adrian was touched by her offer. Having clothes at her house? If anyone came to her home, there would be physical proof that he had been there and had been there frequently enough that he had a change of clothes there. That was so thoughtful of her. Not only did she take such good care of him, but she also made the effort to make him feel wanted.

"Yeah, please. If that's chill."

"Of course it's chill. Let me go grab them for you."

The domesticity increased tenfold once they were both in comfy clothes, sitting together on her couch while watching an old episode of Love Island and eating popcorn. It was so natural for them to be here, sitting thigh to thigh, and doing bad impressions of all the accents from the show. They got completely wrapped up in their conversation, giggling like idiots at jokes that weren't even that funny and commenting on all the stupid things that happened on screen.

It was moments like these that made him want to tell her everything that was going through his mind. How he wanted to spend the rest of his life right by her side. How he missed her when she was more than 2 ft away from him. How he desperately wished he could be selfish and kiss her right now. He wanted to tell her how badly he needed her, but he didn't want to ruin the calm that they shared because of it. So instead, he just smiled at her and listened to the sound of her laughter, feeling her warmth radiating through his entire body as he rested his head on her shoulder.

"What are you doing for Valentine's Day this year?" He impulsively asked after the episode brought up the upcoming holiday.

Y/N's gaze lowered to her lap, a bashful smile spreading across her features like a warm sunbeam breaking through the clouds. She brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and replied, "I'll probably eat ice cream alone and play Borderlands till I pass out. What about you?"

Adrian shook his head, chuckling lightly as a blush spread across his face. "Got no plans..." he began, looking away from her and playing with the hem of his shirt. "I dunno, maybe I'll do something similar. If, uh, if you want to, we could eat ice cream alone together. Just you and me, together, on Valentine's Day."

"Yeah?" Y/N grinned widely. "Like a date?"

His head snapped back to face her, his green eyes widening. His heart fluttered nervously in his chest, the blush rising to his ears as he said softly, "If you wanted it to be, then yeah, I guess it's a date. If you...you don't want to though, that's fine too. We can just hang out normally like we usually do, or we could go out for dinner... i-if that's what you want."

She reached forward, cupping his cheek with her gentle, soft hand, and he immediately leaned into her touch, closing his eyes as she caressed his skin. Her thumb stroking along his jawline was driving him insane. He tried to hold himself together, to ignore the fact that he was practically drooling at her touch, but it was proving impossible. Every touch made him melt. He craved the contact more than he'd ever craved anything before, and it scared the hell out of him.

And yet, he found himself unable to pull away. He couldn't help it, not when her eyes shone brightly like stars in the night sky, her cheeks tinted, and a soft smile gracing her mouth.

"Wanna go to the pizza place opposite the Walgreens?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah. I do... do you really want to go with me?"

To answer him, she leaned in and gently kissed him on the cheek, lingering close enough to feel her breath fanning his skin as she pulled away. Her lips were so soft and warm - he could feel the warmth coming from her lips spreading throughout his whole body - and it was absolutely euphoric. The butterflies in his stomach were threatening to burst out of his ribcage, his smile growing wider the more he stared at her, and the heat in his cheeks never seemed to die down. As they finished the episode, Y/N was cuddled into Adrian's arms with her head tucked under his chin, and he wondered how in the hell he had managed to survive without this, without her, before.

"What are you up to tomorrow?" She let her chin rest on his chest as she peered up at him. "You can stay over?"

"I've got work in the morning, which sucks. I want to stay - believe me, I want to - but my boss is defo gonna fire me if I'm late again, so I better go."

"Do you want me to drive you home?" 

He thought about it for a second. He hated to ask more of her tonight - she'd fixed a bloody, gaping wound and then literally kissed him - so he decided, "It's okay. I'll walk. I'm on, like, cloud nine or whatever, and a walk will probably calm me down. Right now I'm bouncing off the walls in my brain, and I probably won't be able to sleep if I stay with you cause I'll be so excited. But I'll see you tomorrow?"

Y/N nodded her head. "See ya tomorrow, pumpkin."

She stood and held her hands out for him to hold, tugging him to his feet. Without thinking, he looped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as his jaw rested against her temple. He could hardly keep his eyes open - he must have been tired beyond belief after being stabbed in the guts - but he didn't give a fuck. This moment was perfect, and he wouldn't waste one single second of it, so he took in every little thing about it. Every little detail. He would make sure that memory was burnt into his mind forever. Then he slowly let her go, walking backward and staring at her the whole time until he felt the warmth of her hand slip from his own, and he stopped walking, turning to look at her one last time to say goodbye before he left.

Little did he know that he wouldn't be seeing her tomorrow or the day after that. On the 12th of February, barely an hour after he had left, 4 thugs smashed Y/N's door in when she had finally gotten off to sleep, and in her sleepy state, she hadn't reached her gun in time.

Next Chapter -> During

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[multifandomfanficss]

Home Is Wherever You Are P6

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

With a very heavy emphasis on platonic!Christopher Smith/Peacemaker

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: When the device fails, you and Adrian go to a friend for help.

Warnings: mentions of August Smith, cannon typical Peacemaker violence and language, homophobia

A/N: Sorry I skipped a week! It was a very intense and demanding week. I was actually getting lifeguard certified! Thank you guys for all of your support on this story. Enjoy!

“What the fuck do you mean he left?!” Harcourt yelled. She wanted you back just as badly as everyone else, but as the team leader she had to make the hard choices and she couldn’t afford to lose anyone else because of this mission.

“He’ll get there. He’ll find them and he’ll find a way back.” Economos sounds optimistic for once in his life.

“Since when have you become so optimistic?” She asks.

“I can be surprising!” John huffs.

September 13th, 1994

You wake up to an empty bed. It all must have been some fucked up dream. You had to get Gut and Chris out the door for school. Adrian should already be there. Diane would have driven him into his first day this morning. Your eyes blur with fresh tears about to drop as you rise from bed. Your vision clogged by tears, so you don’t see Adrian’s suit peaking out from under the bed. You trip over one oh his shin guards and hit the floor. You hear footsteps race up the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Adrian busts open the door.

“Yeah I’m fi- what are you wearing?” You look up to find your boyfriend in one of Diane’s old baking aprons.

“My mom’s apron.” He says as if that’s obvious.

“I mean why are you wearing it?” You question, as you start to stand up.

“Why? It’s because it’s floral and lacy and technically for a woman isn’t it? I didn’t think you’d been in the 90’s that long, but-“

“No, you can wear it, but like were you cooking…or…” You trail off.

“Sorry. I just spent too much time with teenage Chris.” He sighs

“He saw you?”

“Yeah and he kept calling me voice message guy. I don’t even know what that means.” He looks at you in confusion.

“Don’t worry about it! You know Chris! Always a dick!” You blush, trying to change the subject.

“He’s more of a dick than I remember. I made him breakfast and I didn’t even get a thank you! He just called me Nancy and left with Gut for school! That’s not even my name!” You pull him into your embrace.

“Baby, he’s calling you gay.”

“Okay? He’s not wrong. I am queer. I don’t just like girls. He’s queer too. What’s the point in bringing it up at breakfast?” Adrian questions.

“Well, I don’t think he’s fully come to terms with or maybe even realized that yet. He’s still technically living with his dad and it’s the 90’s. Everything is gay in a weird way. I know it sucks, but we have to allow time to breathe and change. We’re the ones out of our time here. We can go beat up homophobes and not mess up the timeline in our own time.” You kiss him. The 90’s are a shock to him since he doesn’t remember them very well. They were a shock to you too, but he’s just been thrown into it. You had over a week to adjust. It’s not pretty. Discrimination never is, but when you know better times are coming, you can’t do anything that could risk your better future. Home isn’t perfect, but it’s a little better than this. Fighting homophobia now would be like traveling back in time to fight segregation or women’s rights. It’s such a big fixed point in time that if you mess with it, you could change everything and you have no guarantee it would be for the better. People always talk about time travel like it’ll be wonderful. They never stop and think about all the awful responsibility that comes with it or how it affects your morality. “And before you get the idea no, you’re not killing his dad.”

“Why not?” Adrian asks.

“Because if you kill him that would affect history too much. We have no idea what that could do to Chris. We may never stop the butterflies or any other major threat in the future because maybe Chris didn’t become a hero or maybe he followed in his dad’s footsteps while mourning. Peacemaker as we know him would probably cease to exist. Do you know how many people he’s saved? They could all be dead. Emilia could be dead. That could start a whole different chain reaction. I wish we could kill Chris’ dad now, but who knows what kind of chaos that would cause to the timeline. We could completely break it.” You remind him.

“You’re right. Let’s just get out of here before we fuck anything else up.” He digs around in his pocket for the time travel grenades.

“Were those just in your pocket?” You ask.

“Yeah. I’m not an idiot (Y/N). I wasn’t gonna let them get lost or stolen.” He hands you one.

“Why does mine have a light on it?” You ask.

“It’s supposed to.” He informs you.

“Then why doesn’t yours have one?” You ask.

“Oh fuck! I thought I heard a crack when I sat on it earlier, but I was really hoping it was just the chair.” Your jaw drops to the floor as he gives you one of his famous Adrian Chase ‘I fucked up’ faces.

“Does that mean we’re stuck here?” You ask. He grabs his suit and starts going through all the pockets.

“It’s gonna be fine because Adebayo gave me a piece of paper with the address for the old ARGUS headquarters. They’re gonna help us which means under no circumstances do we need to freak out.” He reassures you.

“Oh shit! Adrian!”

“What?”

“No, not you. I’m sorry. Well, sort of you, but little you…I have to pick him up from preschool later. He has a half day today. I forgot. If I don’t do it nobody will.” You remind your boyfriend.

“What if we go, figure out a plan, pick up little me and go back later if need be. We need what? A battery? It can’t take that long.” Adrian suggests.

“Okay. You’re right we’ll probably be fine. You agree and head off to the address.

When you arrive there you find a little girl sitting on a bench doing homework. She’s all by herself outside of ARGUS headquarters.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” You ask her.

“I’m homeschooled. My mommy says traveling with her is a better education.” She smiles, kicking her feet, filling in the next math problem.

“So you travel a lot?” You ask her. She nods.

“Where have you been?” Adrian asks her.

“I’ve been all over North America, most of Europe, and a ton of places in South America, but my mommy goes all over the world for work.” She tells you. You get a better look at her homework to see she’s doing math at a level that you assumed she was years away from. She looked like she was doing basic middle school math, but couldn’t be more than 7 or 8.

“Is that math hard?” You asked.

“Not really. It’s kinda boring though.” She shrugs.

“Woah! Looks like we have a little artist in our presence!” Adrian points at a dog she’d drawn in the corner of the page.

“I love dogs and I’m really good at drawing them! One day I’m gonna have so many!” She beams.

“Leota!” You hear her name being called from the doorway of the old ARGUS headquarters.

“You guys seem really nice maybe we can go exploring sometime together!” She says before running off.

Suddenly everything makes sense. Both you and Adrian proceed to laugh.

“Everyday this feels more and more like a fever dream.” You say, walking inside.

As soon as you walk in you start looking for any excuse to be there. Looking at the front desk person only ten steps away you didn’t plan this very well.

“Why did we think coming in here with no plan was a good idea?” Adrian asks you.

“It was your idea!” You remind him.

“You followed it!” He argues.

“It’ll be fine just think think think think think…” Your eyes scan the mailboxes in the entry way until you see one you recognize. No fucking way.

You pull Adrian up to the front desk.

“Who are you here to see?” They ask.

“We’re here to see John Economos.” You smile.

“And who should I say is here?” They ask.

“Some old friends and colleagues.”

The front desk person gives you a key card which will only let you take the elevator to John’s floor and gives you instructions on how to get there. When you arrive he isn’t ecstatic to see you, but that’s fair. He doesn’t even know you yet.

“You’re not my mom bringing my lunch.” He groans. John may only be 27, but his attitude is still the same.

“No, we’re not, but we need your help.” You start.

“Why should I help you?” He asks.

“Why shouldn’t you help us?” Adrian retorts.

“There are literally so many reasons. I’m not losing my job over this.”

“Trust me. You won’t.” Adrian laughs loudly over a joke that would go over John’s head.

“We have to tell him the truth.” You tell Adrian.

“What truth? I don’t even know you people.” John says.

“I thought you said nobody can know…”

“Well we kinda have to tell him about the time travel device in order for him to be able to fix it.” You remind him.

“So let me get this straight. You two nutcases think you’re time travelers?” John laughs.

“I can prove it! We’re friends and you have to believe me because I know you have an 11th Street Kids tattoo on your arm that you got at a Hanoi Rocks concert in Finland when you were 14!” You tell him.

“That’s not the most difficult thing to find out about me. It’s literally written on my skin.” He rolls his eyes.

“Well here’s a picture of us in the van and here’s a picture of you feeding Eagly. I actually took that one while you weren’t looking because you get annoyed when I say you like him. Here’s a pic-“

“That’s enough, Adrian!” You push his hands down, hiding his phone from John’s view.

“You’re the one who said we could tell him!” Adrian says, getting frustrated.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just worried about him learning too much about the future.”

“So what? I’m supposed to believe you because you just because you taught yourself the new Adobe Photoshop 3.0 to get ahead on your job resume? And then stuck it on what?…a digital frame?” John is annoyingly skeltical, but it is still his first year at ARGUS. He hasn’t seen everything his older self has yet. You sigh.

“Catch.” You toss him the broken device. “If you can fix this and send us home I promise we’ll be out of your hair for the next 28 years.”

“So who’s the idiot who broke it” Economos asks, looking it over.

“It’s not broken broken though, right? Can’t you just like recharge it?” You ask.

“Dude the power source is crushed. What did you do; sit on it?” John questions.

“…No” Adrian lies, poorly concealed behind an exaggerated expression.

“Can you fix it?” You’re hopeful.

“No, I can’t fix it. What do I look like? George Jetson? This is some weird power source that I’m pretty sure doesn’t even exist yet.” John says in his classic pessimistic tone. Good to think some things never change.

“Well then how do you know it’s the power source?” Adrian challenges him.

“There’s an on/off button” John says, bluntly.

“We’re never getting home…” You sigh. Adrian picks up your hand as a gentle reminder everything would be okay. It was something you two often did when he saw you becoming a bit anxious and you needed something to anchor yourself. At least you had him back.

“Well I might not be able to fix it, but I could probably amplify the field of one device to be able to take two people, but it would take a little bit of time.”

“How long is a little bit? I have to pick up the kid I nanny from preschool.” You ask Economos, concerned about Adrian’s younger self.

“Oh no! You can’t just dip on me. I’m not putting my job at any further risk for a 3 year old.”

“Well that 3 year old grows up to be 30 and meets you and then proceeds saves your life more than once, so I’d rethink that. Without that 3 year old most of us would probably be dead.” You defend Adrian.

Your adult boyfriend proudly smiles and waves at your younger friend.

“Gross! You’re nannying your fucking boyfriend?!” Economos is appalled.

“I didn’t have a lot of choices, okay!” You defend yourself.

“Yeah, tell that to Freud!” Economos laughs at his own joke.

“We’re not going back in time again. We’re trying to go forward in time.” Adrian missed John’s joke, but to be fair his tone has apparently never in his life been easy to read.

“He’s using a figure of speech, babe.” You smile, squeezing his hand. “I have to go pick up his younger self at preschool. Are you gonna help us or not?” You ask.

“Come back by tonight and I should have this all figured out. Let’s just hope for everyone’s sake, my theory works.”

[umichenginabroad]

Madrid Week 0: Stealing Grocery Bags (Goals & Reflections)

¡Hola a todos!

My name is Niko, and I’ll be blogging this semester from now until June for the CEA IPE program at Universidad Carlos III de Madrid, or UC3M.

Some quick background about me: I’m a current junior studying aerospace engineering at Michigan; I’m minoring in computer science and the international minor for engineers. I beatbox in an a cappella group, I love to rollerblade, meditate, and make pottery, & I’m a huge Bad Bunny fan (top 2% of listeners worldwide, not to flex).

My goal for writing this blog is twofold: one, to share my experiences in Madrid (and Europe when I travel around) with you all. I’ll be writing about sights I’ve seen, activities I’ve done, situations I’ve gotten myself into, and what they all made me feel. For all the prospective study-abroaders reading this, I hope you gain some insight into what studying and living in Madrid is like — and please feel free to send me an email at economos@umich.edu with any questions. For all of my friends and family reading, I hope you enjoy staying somewhat up to date with my life while I’m away, and please don’t hesitate to reach out — I would be happy to get a more in depth account about anything I post. Also, don’t hesitate to reach out with suggestions of what you might want me to blog about. I’m open to all ideas!

My second goal: dive deeper into how all of these experiences are affecting me, and figure out how I can learn and grow from all of them. I find that when I journal about something, it helps me sort through my thoughts and feelings surrounding it. This allows me to figure out how I can use these experiences to inform my actions in the future and move closer towards being the person that I want to be. This blog might serve as a pseudo journal for me; I’m gonna try to write a short focused piece on one experience each week and see what I can get out of it.

So, as I boarded the plane to Madrid (having gone through a crisis of deciding which bag I was going to bring as my personal item just hours before [I am a chronic over packer, but I will improve this semester mark my words] ), I was feeling a mix of excitement, nervousness, and uncertainty.

It’s now day 2 of being in Madrid, and after going through the trouble of losing a bag in transit (which has since been delivered back to my apartment thanks to our awesome doorman Mario), I quickly started to experience culture shock, naturally. Most notably so far: feeling extremely embarrassed when I accidentally tried to steal a bag at the grocery store — you have to pay for bags in Madrid, and I took an extra right in front of the cashier. She wasn’t so happy.

Although I’ve been to Spain once before for a week with my Spanish class in 8th grade, things are all very unfamiliar — the pace of life, my surroundings, the people, the way you recycle, the language (although I’m happy that the 52 hours listening to Bad Bunny have served me well, I’ve found that I’m able to communicate with locals pretty fluently), among many other things. During this period of culture shock, I’m gonna try my best to pull from the biggest lesson I learned studying abroad in Buenos Aires (an amazing city, btw, highly recommend) the summer after my freshman year — lean into these uncomfortable situations. Adapting to Argentinian culture helped me learn that these situations are never a matter of life or death. Overcoming my ego and “putting myself out there” got me into some of the most incredible, memorable experiences that I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.

So, I’m gonna do exactly that this time around, and I know that feeling more comfortable is only a matter of time. I’m excited for all of the people that I will meet, places I will see (most pumped to return to La Sagrada Familia, stay tuned for that), experiences I will become a part of, and I’m excited to continue writing this blog!

Un beso,

Niko Economos

Aerospace Engineering

Universidad Carlos III de Madrid

Madrid, Spain

P.S. Don't forget to check the ALT/Image descriptions for a little more insight into what these photos are, especially if I don't talk about them in the main body :)

[whirlybirbs]

flavour of the week is straightening out Adrian Chase’s glasses and kissin’ his bruises

;  NOW OR NEVER  —  VIGILANTE / READER

summary: you patch adrian up. feelings come to a head. adebayo just hopes you two don’t fuck on her desk, y’know?

pairing: adrian chase / f!reader (ex-hero)

rating: t for kisses and the usual vig characterizations

a/n: this beautiful gif has ocupied my brain for the last day — it’s from this loevly set by the @life-or-something-like-lt! anywho, who ordered ex-hero who stops crime fighting because of a horrible injury and mental health? it’s comin’ right up! pipin’ hawt! there’s lots of feelings in this one, so enjoy my first lil’ adrian piece. ;-) 

“Vigilante.”

“I mean, who knew the human body had a whole gallon and a half of blood in it! Seriously, that’s, like, a whole jug of milk. But, blood—”

“Vig...”

“It’s cool, y’know, because the suit is machine washable. Isn’t that great? The only shitty thing is that I definitely have blood in my boots and I can totally feel it between my toes right now—”

“Adrian.”

His mouth snaps shut. Above you, you spy his eyes move down to inspect your expression. He has that look on his face — the one that’s half-proud and half-boyish. He presses his lips together and inhales through his nose.

You offer him a wry look.

Hardly punishment.

“Sorry,” he says as he leans back against the desk and lets you continue your work, “Right.”

He swallows down a smile.

You shift in your boots. His long legs are crossed at the ankle. He pops his arms across the chest of his suit.

“It would be one thing — look up — if I wasn’t trying to figure out if you had a broken jaw,” you say slowly as you move your fingers along the sharp contour of his face; you’re gentle, Adrian's eyes slip shut, “Does that hurt?”

You press lightly against the hinge of his jaw. Even through the light, mint-colored gloves, you can feel the warmth of his skin. He shakes his head despite a minute wince.

“Sorta sore?”

“Definitely to be expected when you face plant off a third-story balcony...” you mutter matter-of-fact.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

“Don’t even try. I saw the footage,” you jab playfully with a rare smile — it cracks through your usual stoic expression like the sun on a cloudy day, and Adrian swears it’s the prettiest thing in the world.

He’s distracted.

His reply is a moment late.

“...Wait — who the fuck showed you that?”

“I did,” comes the voice of Leota — she has her bag slung over her shoulder as she exits Murn’s dim office and slides the two of you a look, “Gotta keep you humble, Vig.”

“Seriously?” he nearly whines, brows tightening. You lean away with a little laugh, gathering up a cotton swab and some rubbing alcohol. Over your shoulder, you catch Leota toss up a loving middle finger towards the man posed at your make-shift medical station.

He tosses it back, but even his pout is laced with affection.

You laugh quietly to yourself.

You like this team.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a team.

You followed Leota here from Gotham — promising help to one of your oldest and best friends. As a forcibly retired B-list vigilante, you earned yourself enough trust with Murn’s team to find a spot on the roster.

Apparently, Economos was a fan. Adrian, too.

She’s only the coolest fucker to ever grace the ranks of the Justice League. Have you seen her iconic fight with Poison Ivy in the Gotham Commons back in 2019? Seriously, guys, Adrian had griped to the team’s push back, Old news. We’re Whisper stans in this house.

...It was nice.

...Sweet, even.

“It was graceful, at least,” you say slowly as you look back up at Adrian. The bridge of his nose is split where his trademarked visor dug into his skin. There’s a black eye starting, “Not the landing, though. That was—”

“Face down ass up, dude.”

You snort at Leota’s comment.

“Are you leaving?” Adrian asks as he waves his hands in her direction, “Please tell me you’re leaving.”

It’s Adebayo’s turn to laugh. You muscle your smile down as you lean a hand on the table and wait for Adrian to stop squirming before you move your attention to his nose.

“Oh, yea, no — I’ll leave you two to it,” she waves as she pushes the door open. It’s late, and it’s raining, and the woman slips a look over her shoulder, “See you two tomorrow...?”

There’s an expectant edge in her voice.

Between Leota and the grave, she’d been watching the two of you through Murn’s office window and was totally seeing the way you two have been looking at one another when the other isn’t looking. It’s gross. Cute-gross. Cutross. Grute.

...You know Leota is convinced something is going on between you and Adrian.

Truth be told, maybe there was.

But, that was between you and your thoughts — and the smiles that he somehow earned that no one else did.

“See you tomorrow, Le.”

She hesitates, looks at the two of you, then smiles. “Night, guys.”

“Night,” Vig offers – albeit it’s a bit of a grumble.

The door closes, and you turn your full attention back to Adrian Chase.

Handsome, handsome Adrian Chase.

You’ve wondered since you’ve met him if he knows. Is he aware that you think about him more than any other co-worker you’ve had, masked or not? Seriously, more than Bats. And Bats was Bats. Everyone had the hots for Bats. But, not like this. Not like how you have the hots for Vigilante. You.

Does he know you think he’s funny, even if his immaturity borders on all-encompassing? Does Adrian know you’re distracted now, standing this close and this alone?

You dab the cotton ball lightly against his nose.

He hisses.

“Sorry,” comes your quiet apology.

“S’okay,” he placates you. His eyes are screwed tight. You’re glad, really, because he has a habit of watching. It makes you feel things. A lot of things.

There’s quiet then. You’re slow when you pull a bandage from the first aid kit to place on the bridge of his nose. You assess the laceration, decide to gently dab a bit of antibacterial ointment on it, and peel open the white bandage.

“I can’t believe she showed you the video.”

You huff a little laugh out. “It was funny.”

He pries one eye open.

You’re smiling again.

The corners of Adrian’s mouth quirk. “Yea?”

“Yea,” you look down, and he opens both eyes. You gently pull the paper from the back of the dressing, “I, uh, I’ve had some falls like that before.”

His brows climb his face. “The Whisper? Has faceplanted? I refuse to believe that.”

You swat at his shoulder, but you’re smiling still. Even more so, a laugh is pried from your chest and Vig can’t help the surge of pride he feels at being able to conjure the sound. “Stop it — look at me? Thank you.”

Adrian’s lashes kiss his cheeks when you press the bandage neatly over the broken bridge of his nose. Your thumbs smooth the adhesive down along his cheeks — and he swears he’s not imagining the way you linger.

When he opens his eyes, you’re looking him over.

It feels like forever.

His chest burns.

He swallows thickly.

His voice is quiet when he finds your eyes. “...You okay?”

This time, it’s your reply that falters.

...Fuck, your heart feels like it’s on fire.

You blink at him, clear your throat, and crinkle the wrapper in your hand. “Y-Yea. Yea, I’m fine.”

“...Do I smell?”

“...What?”

“You’re looking at me like I smell.”

“...No, you... I don’t think you smell—?”

“I hope not,” he chatters, still maintaining dead-honest eye contact, “Because that would totally kill the mood.”

“The mood?” you press on, holding his gaze.

“Yea, you know — beautiful girl patching up my... totally bad-ass injuries from... like, saving the world and not falling off a balcony.”

Your smile stutters back alive. “Oh, right.”

“Right,” he chirps, “And I don’t even have my glasses on and I know you’re giving me that really pretty smile right now. The one you do when I start going on and on and on like this—”

Your heart stutters on the compliment. Then, your eyes widen in realization. “Oh.”

You ditch your gloves quickly and Adrian blinks. Fishing in your pocket with clean, bare hands, you then procure his glasses. Silver frames. A little big for his face.

“Here, let me,” you say as you flip open the glasses and hold them up to his face.

You’re careful to mind his nose.

Adrian swears this is, like... a fucking fever dream.

Does he have it this bad? That, like, you putting his glasses on for him has his heart hammering so hard he’s half-convinced he could pass out? Never mind the fact that he swears he’s two seconds from getting rock hard because you’re being gentle with him. Kind and sweet and gentle and doting and you’re the fucking Whisper.

You’re, like, famous.

A hero. A serious, real, retired hero.

Your fingers sit along the silver frame as you adjust his glasses against his face.

You step back to survey your work temporarily.

...Yep, just as beautiful as he thought.

Then, you come back into his orbit to adjust them.

...Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuckle fuck.

“There we go,” you breathe.

“Thanks.”

His voice is hoarse.

You notice.

"Anytime,” you say, half-here and half-there and completely focused on the way his green eyes are flicking across your face.

Now that he can really see, this whole thing is a thousand times more real.

Your hands are lingering on his glasses.

Then, they slip to his cheeks.

Your attention sticks to the bruise crawling around one of his eye sockets — it’s a nasty mess of purple and yellow. You hum. “Promise me you’ll ice this?”

“Worried about me, Whispy?” comes his chirped reply, despite it being soft and earnest.

Another smile. Slow, but bright. It isn’t an answer, but it is enough.

It’s enough to send Adrian careening towards the cliff’s edge.

Suddenly, he’s blurting out:

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widen enough that Adrian can see your pupils dilate. The swivel of interest in your eyes stokes some confidence in him; after all, he can’t help but feel a little out of his league here. But, you are here. Touching him.

When you nod, it takes everything in him not to crash his mouth against yours.

He gets close — and when your hands fall to his chest, he’s pushed back slightly.

“Gently,” you remind, your lips centimeters from his, “Your nose.”

Oh, fuck his nose.

Ow, ow, ow — never mind, gentle is good. Gentle... Gentle.

....Gentle.

Gentle is nice.

Gentle is slow and soft and hands on his chest as his arms snake around your waist and tug you closer. Gentle is chest to chest, fingers crawling up his armor, with your lips against his. Tentative. Lovely. Gentle is a hitch of your breath that exists in the momentary break of the kiss. Gentle is Adrian’s nose to your cheek as you lean up into him.

Gentle is a month of tension easing into a simmer — and gentle tastes like honey tea. His gentle tastes like cinnamon gum.

“God, you’re so pretty. Seriously, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, ever, and you’re so nice—”

“Adrian.”

His whisper is spoken against your mouth. His glasses nudge your cheek. You smile into another slow and heady flow of kisses.

“Stop talking and just kiss me.”

“Right.”

[chaseadrian]

"i wish you would write a fic where" ADRIAN JIST FUCKING DESTROYS MY HEART, i love this man and that he is so beautiful, but is rare the times where i see Adrián being mean or rejecting Reader.

SO like a fic where we are in some kind of unspoken relationship where reader sees it like a romantic relationship But Adrian is just like pure no and doesn't sees us that way or in any other way I DON'T KNOW BUT I WANNA CRY.

Have a Nice day and i hope You are doing good 💞

OKAY LMAO listen i AM A BABY AND CANT WRITE REALLY SADFIC BUT THIS IS WHAT I CAME UP WITH SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. also ty i hope you have a nice day too!!

Love is an Emerald

(PART TWO | PART THREE) Rating: General Word Count: 1.7k+ Summary: You and Adrian are just friends. Okay, you’re friends who hook up sometimes. And stay over with each other most nights. But you’re not dating. Except, when Adrian shows up to work with a hickey you realize you actually maybe...want to? A/N: I’ll probably write a part 2 to this once I have the time! It’s minorly edited, I wrote it in the car on my phone lmao so sorry for any mistakes!!

You didn’t know he was fucking other people.

It wasn’t like you were dating; there’d been no discussion about exclusivity or labels. The word “boyfriend” didn’t quite fit him in your mind. But, he’d been the only one in your life. The only one in your bed, and you kinda thought it was the same for him. He’d slid into the boyfriend role without effort, letting you stay the night when it was too late, emptying out a couple drawers for you at his place, making you breakfast at yours.

The first time it happened was after a mission, adrenaline pumping and scrapes coating your body. You stung everywhere, and the cold moisture of Adrian’s lips on the cut across your cheek was a blistering pain that you wanted more of.

So, you got it.

And then it happened again and again until there was no longer a line between friends and lovers. You’d never liked that term—felt too old world romance—but it was the closest descriptor you had.

Because he wasn’t a boyfriend.

Still, when he walked into HQ with a hickey that you certainly didn’t give him, a shield of confusion flocked over your body.

“Holy shit, Adrian got tail!” Chris pointed at Adrian, cracking up as he looked around to make sure the rest of the team took notice. Legend has it that in some dictionaries, the word ‘Subtlety’ is just defined as, “Not Christopher Smith.”

Adrian slid into a seat, “No, I got laid. Saved someone last night who really liked my costume.” He said, with a smile.

John walked in from the back room, plopping down at his desk and looking between the two of you, “I thought you and Y/N were hooking up.” He settled his gaze on his laptop screen, but you caught him darting over to see your reaction.

“Well, yeah, but we’re friends!” His voice was unwavering, staring at you with an earnest grin on his face.

Economos stared at you, awaiting confirmation. Even Leota and Harcourt, uninvested in the conversation until now, made a point to look at you.

“Yeah, yeah, no, like, we are. It’s just like. Tension relief, yknow?” You tripped over your words, spitting out a glaringly embarrassing agreement that everyone but Adrian and Chris picked up on. Chris had even perked up when Economos first asked the question, so you were pretty sure Adrian hadn’t even told him.

Granted, you weren’t quick to gush with Leota and Harcourt about jumping into bed with a fellow teammate, but this was Adrian. The man couldn’t keep himself from sharing what he’d had for breakfast that morning. It was hard not to retreat into a state of insecurity knowing that he hadn’t told his supposed best friend that you were...something.

The room stood in silence for several moments after you’d spoken. Your eyes darted around the room to your teammates, Chris nodding at Adrian and throwing him a thumbs up, Economos typing away at his computer, Leota & Harcourt returning to the dossier they were reading. You and Adrian sat there on standby. He was a field agent, everyone knew that. They told him what he needed to do, who he needed to kill, and he did it.

You were markedly more involved in the full process of these missions, so every passing moment you didn’t budge only deepened the embarrassment you felt. Made it all the more obvious that there was a problem. You needed to move, to participate, to do something.

Sure, you could go over to the girls and read up on your latest targets.

Or, you could go to the bathroom and cry.

Despite your strongest efforts, you wound up in front of the mirror holding your breath as you sobbed. Lungs burning, cheeks boiling red, it felt like your teeth would crack with how hard you were grinding them together to keep from making noise. You felt like a fucking idiot, seriously, crying over Adrian of all people.

It was just—everything about your relationship read as, well, a relationship. You thought that was what you were sliding into with Adrian. Never one to talk about things, you were used to getting what you wanted through action. So when Adrian learned how you took your coffee, and memorized your phone number, and waited for you before he watched new shows, you kinda thought you had him.

Not quite a boyfriend, but not someone who was entertaining other people.

Yes, okay, it was an unfair assumption, you knew that. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

Adrian was cute, he was funny, a competent fighter, and surprisingly good in bed. Without acknowledging it, you’d harbored a sort of pride thinking that he was all yours.

“Ow, shit!” You looked down to see that you’d been gripping the sink so hard the corner of a fingernail had folded over onto itself. It was a dull pain that radiated through your middle finger, and you felt even more frustration course through your body, smacking the porcelain sink in retaliation with a disappointing wallop. It stung, and you didn’t feel like any less of an idiot.

You ripped the folded nail off with your teeth, and your finger retaliated by bleeding all over your hand.

Turning on the faucet, you rinsed your hand and soaked your face with tap cold water, scrubbing paper towels over your skin to try and rid your face of any signs you’d been crying. Your eyelashes were still clumped together, but everyone outside heard the faucet, for all they knew you just needed to wash your face.

When you walked back out into the main room, it was just Chris and Economos sitting there. Chris was flipping a pencil between his fingers while John was doing actual work.

“Where’d everyone go?” You asked, walking over to sit on the piano bench.

Chris spoke without looking up, “Grabbing some grub. Hey what’s up with you and Vigilante?”

Economos looked up from his laptop, not yet interjecting but certainly staying engaged.

You leaned back against the piano, trying to rest your elbows behind you only to bang them on the keys. Could this morning get any more fucking awkward? You were quick to close the lid and then put your arms down, catching Chris’ disapproving look and the smirk Economos was trying to hide.

“Nothing’s up. We fool around.”

Chris cocked his head at you, squinting his eyes.

“Bullshit. I fooled around with Adrian before—“

Don’t remind me. You thought.

“—and I still threw bombs at him in the woods and high fived him when he hooked up with other chicks. But I’m pretty sure you were just crying in that bathroom. So what’s the deal?”

You shot a look over to Economos, who was no help. He just stared at you and pushed his glasses up his nose.

It was of no use trying to act cool anymore. Every moment at HQ that day had been colored by your complete lack of composure. You were a fucking government agent. You’d stared down the barrel of a gun, saved the world a handful of times, but you couldn’t sell a lie about your feelings for Adrian? Feelings you didn’t even know were a thing until you saw that hickey.

The words just spewed from your lips.

“I—I don’t know! We were just hooking up but now I have a toothbrush at his place and he bought a Lord of the Rings pillowcase to sleep on at my place and I guess I thought we were both only sleeping with each other but apparently not and I didn’t think it would bother me this much but it does and I think everyone but him knows so now you all probably think I’m an idiot or something.” You paused, “And yeah I was crying in the bathroom and I broke my nail on the sink and it actually hurts like hell so, Chris, you can preemptively shut the fuck up.”

Chris stood up, walking over to Harcourt’s desk to rifle through the drawers and pull out a bandaid. He sat down on the bench and opened the bandage, wrapping it around your finger once you held it out for him.

John’s dry voice startled you both, “You know Adrian is like head over heels for you, right?”

You and Chris both looked over at him, eyes peering up from behind the computer screen.

He sighed, shaking his head and closing the laptop, “Am I the only one that’s noticed? He doesn’t shut up about how great you are in the field—”

You opened your mouth to interject but he bulldozed past you before you could protest.

“No, not the same way he does for Chris. It’s markedly more.”

Chris scoffed, “Doesn’t matter, I don’t need his validation.”

That made you crack a smile.

“Whatever. It actually makes me question your ability to do this job if you couldn’t tell that he’s the world’s most lovesick psychopath.”

Chris pointed a finger at John, “Not the most. Harley Quinn jumped into a vat of acid for the Joker. And that dude uses dildos shaped like guns because he looks like a Ken doll down there after an encounter with Catwoman.”

“Shut the fuck up, Chris.”

You and Economos spoke in unison, and Chris raised his hands in defense.

“I’m just trying to help. But Economos is probably right, I did think it was odd that Adrian had a drawer full of women’s clothing. I figured he was just into that.”

Looking between Chris and John, you smiled at them both, “Thanks, guys.”

“Sure.” John opened his laptop back up and resumed typing.

Chris gave you a pat on the back, “Hey, I made a vow for peace, and that includes in the bedroom.” He winked at you and got up to walk into the back room. The sound of the TV came soon after.

You pulled out your phone and dialed Adrian’s number before your thoughts could cloud what John and Chris had just said.

“Yellow.” His voice was chipper, and you heard pop music blaring in the background fade until it wasn’t audible.

“Hey I gotta talk to you when you get back.” You bounced your leg, picking at the bandage on your finger.

“What abouts?” He asked.

“I’ll just—I’ll tell you when you get here. Talk to you soon. Bye Adrian.”

“Okay, buh-bye!”

You hung up and shook out your hands, nerves shooting through your body.

Economos spoke again without looking up, “If your nerves are that shot after a minute phone call, I’m definitely questioning how you perform so well in the field.”

You rolled your eyes.

All there was to do now was wait.

[lunaticsandidiots]

your nsfw headcanon’s are bloody brilliant!! i was wondering if you could do it with chris?

thank you babes!!! and it would by my pleasure 😈

NSFW Chris Headcanons…

(afab gn!reader) (nsfw 18+)

i know i already said it for economos but… we have to address it… size kink.

i mean fucking look at him, chris’ biceps are the size of god damned watermelons.

chris would adore wrapping his huge arms around you and pounding into you like his own personal sex toy.

and if you were on top, it’d be like you were sitting on top of a god damned life raft. chris would love watching you above him, holding yourself up with your hands splayed across his chiselled abs, groping away at his pecs.

chris would totally get impatient towards the end though, unable to stop himself from holding you in a vice grip and once again fucking you into next week from underneath you.

speaking of which, i feel like chris would be 100% more rough than he is kinky. not to say he wouldn’t have his kinks, but i think pushing and shoving and manhandling and choking and slapping and spitting if you were down with it would be a lot more common.

god if you were down with it you’d have to be careful not to get your brains fucked out for good; chris would love nothing more than watching you babbling and mewling, so cockdrunk you can no longer talk, with your eyes rolled into the back of your head and his cock almost brushing your god-damned innards.

chris would also 100% love a softer, more tender fuck as well. he’s a total softie deep down and would simply melt at the concept of getting all touchy-feely and romantic with somebody he trusts.

it would still be super intense though, chris’ wandering hands and hungry mouth would still leave marks that last for days, and you’d still wind up a blubbering, stuttering mess collapsed in a heap with him by the end.

but it would be because he took his sweet time with you. there wouldn’t be a notable amount of edging or overstimulation, but chris wouldn’t even think about fucking you until you were brought to tears with his mouth alone.

speaking of tears, i feel like the more romantic, soft lovemaking (feels more fitting than ‘fucking’ in this context) may bring chris to tears.

not necessarily in a mood-breaking, stressful way, but in a way where its the both of you with your bodies pressed painfully close together and you’re both so close to tumbling over the edge,

and maybe chris is curled around you from behind, or maybe his head is tucked into the crook of your neck where he’s whispering praise after praise in between sweet, desperate kisses,

and maybe your hands are sifting through his messy, sweaty hair, or maybe they’re holding you steady by wrapping themselves around his strong shoulders,

and all the two of you can babble out between you is a string of broken ‘i love you’s in between gasps and cries, and chris looks up to tell you he can’t last any longer and you’re planning to do the same,

and the second his eyes meet yours the both of you just break, and theres a flood of tears to usher forth your synchronised undoings as the both of you are left howling and writhing and rutting and grunting and just so completely overtaken by the sheer amount of love in the room.

chris is totally the kind of guy that wants to talk and debrief and just hang out afterwards as well. sometimes with a joint passed between the two of you, sometimes with your head resting on one of his hard (but still pillowy) pecs, sometimes with his head resting on your chest,

but chris would just want to talk to you about anything and everything, whether he’s informing you that the way you clenched around him made him see stars, or asking you what your favourite album of all time is,

he’d just be absolutely reeling from the connection with you, never wanting to fall asleep in fear of missing out on a single second of it.

[theplanetm4rz]

beautiful

pairing: adrian chase/reader

summary: adrian chase is too good for this world, and you intend to let him know it

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort

notes: yes, lords and ladies, I finally finished writing an actual fic after a 3 million year long, writer’s-block inspired hiatus. i hope you enjoy it. and I hope that i can continue to do more in the future. I appreciate those of you who stuck around even though I was making 0 content 100% of the time. i love you all dearly and i pray that this writer’s block stays away. i might be a little rusty but once i get back into my groove the quality will improve probably

For most of your life, you were never considered particularly desirable. There aren’t a lot of lovable traits about a murderous anti-hero that spends their nights perched on street corners waiting for any signs of conflict. You were almost always injured, constantly littered with open wounds and deep purple bruises. Very few people find being constantly caked in blood and dirt an attractive trait, and when coupled with your aversion to empathy, it became clear that you weren’t exactly a catch. You didn’t care; you had bigger fish to fry. You’d much rather be turning criminals inside out than be stuck in a relationship, platonic or otherwise. 

Then, after a twisted chain of events, you found yourself here, in the middle of a black ops team with a bunch of strangers that irritated you endlessly. Harcourt and Murn are so emotionally stunted any attempt at socializing with them would probably yield worse results than trying to make out with a brick wall. Chris and Economos always manage to be on the opposite sides of a very, very annoying spectrum. Adebayo is… pretty cool, actually. She’s always nice to you, even when you’re not very nice back. However, none of them hold a candle to the Vigilante himself, Adrian Chase. 

Adrian is beautiful. Like a whirlwind of endearing violence and shitty puns, you found yourself being tangled in his life. He’s hyperactive and talkative— every time he starts one of his long-winded tangents, you worry he’ll die of suffocation. The entire team finds him near insufferable, and they make it painfully obvious that they dislike him. He tries his best to hide it, but you know it hurts his feelings. Maybe that’s why you’re so drawn to him, the unfamiliar sense of empathy (or is it pity?) luring you in like a gnat to a lantern. Instead of a fatal shock, you’re met with a paralyzing warmth (though, it could be argued that there is warmth to be found in lethal electricity).

As wonderfully kind, passionate, and caring Adrian is, there’s also something so profoundly sad about him. A grand sense of hurt lies within those glittering puppy-dog eyes, and it kills you to see it grow as the days go by. While he may deny that he has “regular people feelings” the excuse falls flat every time you catch his gaze during a team meeting. Still, he usually kept his composure and somehow managed to shake it off by the end of the day.

So, when you hear muffled crying coming from the back of the van, you’re inclined to investigate. Your movements are careful and calculated as you approach the van as quietly as possible. A part of you knows who’s inside, and you’d hate to humiliate him further by attracting attention from the rest of the team. Softly, you knock on the metal door.

The sound of hasty shuffling and quiet ‘fuck!’ comes through the barrier as the van door swings open. You’re unsurprised to see Adrian standing above you, face flushed and eyes red. An obviously forced smile is plastered on his face as he greets you.

“Oh, hey!” 

“Hey…” you trail off, unsure on how to approach the situation. “Whatcha doin’ back there?”

“Oh, I was just…” Adrian stands there, eyes frantic as he attempts to come up with an excuse. “...smoking weed,”

“What? Adrian, you hate weed. You threatened to shoot multiple people for possession alone,”

“I had a change of heart,” he defended. “Now my favorite hobby is blazing it. I love sitting in the back of our van and chasing the dragon,” his words come out awkward and unsteady.

“You do realize that the phrase ‘chasing the dragon’ refers to heroin, right?” Adrian’s eyes widen. Heroin is much more illegal than weed. Before he had a chance to deepen the hole he dug himself into any further, you cut in.

“Adrian, are you doing okay?” He froze. The faux-grin on his face faltered, and his body tensed. A small twang shot through your heart as you realized he was struggling to maintain his composure. He doesn’t look you in the eyes. He can’t, because he knows if he does, you’re going to see right through him. Somehow, you always seemed to cut through his façade with a single glance. 

“For sure! I’m doing totally awesome. I’m 100% fine,” His voice trembled. You didn’t buy it. He didn’t buy it either. Adrian’s hands were balled up into tight fists, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped indentations on the meaty part of his palms. 

You step forward, gently guiding Adrian further back into the van before shutting the door. The isolation seemed to sooth his nerves a bit, but he was still clinging to his happy façade. The two of you sat there in silence for a minute, and you spent the seconds studying his face. He’s written with anguish and hurt, and the fact that he’s trying so hard to hide it feels like a punch to the gut. 

“Adrian,” You had to choose your words carefully. Adrian didn’t experience emotions in the same way that most people do, so you had to ensure you wouldn’t scare him off or upset him further. Instead of facing the problem head-on, you decided to let him come to you.

Nonchalantly, you leaned back against the van wall, letting your shoulder brush against his. “How was your day?”

Adrian seemed surprised by the question, but he answered it nonetheless. “It was okay. I’m still sore from getting tossed around like a ragdoll by that gorilla,”

“God, that sucked,” You chuckled. “I always liked Charlie as a kid. I never thought he would betray me like this,”

Adrian paused, his eyes flitting from your face to the floor. “Pretty cool to see Economos with the chainsaw, wasn’t it?” 

“Eh,” you shrugged. “It was okay, I guess. It was kind of overkill— and you totally called the whole ‘chainsaw kill’ thing.” Adrian seemed shocked to hear your answer, but judging by the pleased look that flashes across his face, he isn’t upset. 

“Peacemaker didn’t think so,” He sighed, and that sullen look returned. “I think he finds me annoying. Harcourt, too. Oh, and definitely Murn and John. Adebayo, maybe…” With a sharp inhale, he holds his breath for a moment. You struggle to meet his gaze as he turns away from you, letting his shoulders slump and his head hang. “The whole team hates me, I think,” Adrian’s voice was thick with tears. 

“Adrian, they don’t hate you,” You cooed, gently running your fingers up and down his spine. “They’re all just… emotionally stunted and really mean,”

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” he sobbed openly, hastily moving to bury his face in your shoulder. The sudden burst takes you by surprise, but still, you pulled him close and carded your fingers through his hair in an attempt to give him any and all comfort possible. “I tried so hard to make friends. I tried so hard to—to make myself more… appealing. For my entire life, I always existed as some awkward, scrawny nerd that embarrassed his older brother. I just wanted to have a real group of friends for once,”

“I can see everything they do, y’know. Sometimes it’s easier to play dumb and pretend like I don’t notice that they think it’s a burden to be paired with me on stakeouts. The rock-paper-scissors games, the coin tosses, the drawn straws; they’re all competing and being near me is the punishment. I know they think I’m crazy—that I’m some fucking freak that spends his time following Peacemaker around like a lost puppy. I guess they’re right, though. Gut always told me that I was like a parasite he couldn’t ever manage to shake off,” He cut himself off with a humorless laugh.

“No, no, Adrian, please don’t say that. You’re not a parasite. You’re a great teammate and a better friend,” Adrian was growing more and more overwhelmed by the minute, and you had no idea how to help him. “We don’t deserve you,” 

Adrian was trembling violently, his body wracked with sobs. He’d been holding everything in for an incredibly long time, and now it came rushing out all at once. You can tell this is probably the most kindness he’s received in a while.  You silently removed his glasses and took his face in your hands, swiping your thumbs under his eyes and wiping away the tear tracks staining his face. His alabaster skin was flushed a soft red and his eyelashes were shimmering with tears. He was beautiful. For some reason, you didn’t realize it until this moment, but regardless, it’s true. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Adrian. Everyone else is just fucking mean,” You brushed his hair out of his face. “You deserve better friends than them. You deserve to surround yourself with people who make you feel loved and accepted as you are, not a group of near-strangers who make you try to force yourself into a box that’s palatable for them,”

“Who do I have if I don’t have them?” He looks up at you expectantly, desperately, and you respond without really thinking.

“You have me,” 

“I do?” Adrian gazes into your eyes in astonishment. 

“Always,” A small smile plays on his lips, a sharp contrast from the fake one that had donned his perfect face twenty minutes prior. Quickly, you place his glasses back on his face and allow him to curl around your abdomen comfortably. “I’m always here for you, Adrian. Rain or shine, always feel free to hunt me down if you need me. It’s not healthy to keep all of your emotions bottled up,”

“Why?” His question stunned you. A thick silence hung over you as you pondered your response.

“Because… you’re one of the only people in the world that can make life bearable. At least, to me. And I would hate for someone so wonderful to have to live with the shit you have to,” A shiver runs down Adrian’s spine. “You’re passionate and dedicated, you’re good at your job, you somehow always manage to make me laugh—it’s almost scary how good of a friend you are. Everything you do is done with good intentions, and you’ve got a good heart. You deserve the world, Adrian, and I’m willing to give it to you,”

Adrian is silent. He’s looking at you inquisitively, as if he’s trying to solve a math problem in his head. With his dark eyebrows furrowed, he stares. Finally, after a solid two minutes had passed in dead silence, Adrian’s eyes widen and his mouth falls slightly agape, as if he’d come to some grand realization—

“I’m in love with you,”

Oh. 

Oh.

“What?” 

“I’m in love with you,” Adrian repeats. “I have been for a while, I think. It just took me a long time to realize. Originally, I just thought you were a really, really good friend, but now I realize that most people don’t feel this way about their friends,”

“Adrian…” 

“I don’t want the world,” he cut in, echoing your words from before. “I only want you, if you’ll have me, of course,”

A smirk plays on your lips as your brain begins to catch up with the rest of your body. “Why?”

Adrian shifts closer to you, his once tear-filled eyes now wide with adoration and admiration. “Because you’re the only person in the world who makes my life worth living,” With that, you take his face in your hands once again. Softly, you press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. When you pull away, you study his face once again, and only one word comes to mind: beautiful. 

[babblydrabbly]

The Crazy is Mutual || Vigilante x Reader || Oneshot

Pairing: Adrian Chase x gn!reader

Warnings: Language. Canon-typical violence. Blood. Kissing. Some frottage.

Wordcount: 1k+

[ A/N: Spoilers for Peacemaker S1E5! My first Vigilante fic, technically. This one's mostly just silliness with a little spice. ]

You join the team, and Adrian does his best to stick to his guns. Sort of.

“Dude.”

“What?”

“Dude.”

“What, man?” Chris glares up from his ammunition bag. “You’re making me lose count of my shit!”

“Why is Y/n L/n sitting right there?” Adrian whispers, subtly pointing at your back.

You type away on your laptop across from Economos in the dusty little video store that serves as the team’s base. You don’t know exactly why you’re here, but your history of discretion seems to appeal to the man in charge- Mr. Murn. It’s enough to get you hired onto this temporary team. The pay isn’t stellar, but you’re happy for something more interesting to do than your usual gig- catching partners cheating over social media.

Chris glances over his shoulder at you. “L/n? I don’t know. Doing computer shit.”

“I thought Economos was the computer guy!”

Chris zips up the canvas bag with a little extra force. “They wanted someone more familiar with Evergreen to narrow down all the GPS shit, okay? I told them L/n was a good hacker. Now L/n’s here. …The fuck are you doing?”

Adrian is hidden away behind a narrow beam that does little to conceal his body, his limbs twisting more and more around it, as if climbing it will better shield him from view. He lets go and grabs Chris by his uniform sleeve, quickly dragging him to the bathroom and shutting the door.

Christopher slaps him away, but the small space is barely enough room for either of them.

Adrian exhales nervously. He almost doesn’t want to get the truth off his chest, but he just knew Chris would give him the hero counseling he needed right now.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest, because I don’t want to compromise this very important mission. I might possibly used to have a small crush on Y/n in high school.”

Chris stares down at the younger man and waits for more. “Okay? So?”

“So? That’s the definition of compromised! I don’t know what will happen to my moral compass if they’re on the same team as me!”

Chris considers how satisfying it would feel to dunk Adrian’s mop of dark hair into the toilet beside them, like the good old days. Instead, he crosses his arms and sighs tiredly. If he doesn’t humor him now, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“This crush. Still got it?”

Adrian reddens, adjusting his glasses. “I- no. That would be- really sad!” He laughs. Chris arches a skeptical brow as he continues on, his tone mocking himself. “Harboring a crush for ten years? When I’ve talked to Y/n, what, a handful of times in our lives? Ha!”

“...Alright. Just… focus on killing whoever we gotta kill today, dude.”

Adrian brightens at the mention of justice and slaughter. He nods and pats Chris on the bicep, who slapped him away again petulantly.

“I knew you’d tell me what I needed to hear. That’s what best friends are for!”

+

You scream with frustration as your laptop flies from your hands and lands onto the floor in pieces.

Grabbing a fire extinguisher off the wall, you swing it around with all your weight and crack whoever is behind you over the head with it. The warehouse employee collapses to the floor, their skull and brain matter entirely exposed. When another one of those things peeks out, you scream again and stomp your foot down into all the viscera, killing the insect.

At least you assume they’re insects. No one is telling you a goddamn thing.

It wasn’t enough that the warehouse had some form of technological cloaking you’ve never once seen in your life before. Harcourt had ordered you to come inside and try to decrypt it where the signal was stronger- clearly uncaring about whether you were capable of defending yourself or not. One of the other members on the team- Vigilante- had volunteered to escort you, but Adebayo insisted splitting teams up via rochambeau was the only fair choice.

Speaking of the masked man, your head snaps up at the call of your name. You’re met with a splatter of blood to the face.

Another employee falls to their knees in front of you, a bullet from Vigilante's gun still smoking in their skull.

“Heads up again!” He warns.

Before you can respond he’s leaping in front of you into a mass of bodies, all clambering for both of you. Time seems to slow as Vigilante whips out a blade and begins cutting dozens of people limb from limb, their blood painting every surface. His movements are sure. Confident. Relentless. You stare in awe until Vigilante finally finishes the last one off.

Adrian wipes his visor with a wet squeak. He chuckles as he turns to you.

“That got a little messy.”

“I…” You can’t help but stare at how his suit- white, black and blue just moments ago- was now soaked with deep red. “What… what are you doing after this?”

A pause.

“Huh?”

“If we don’t die, what are you doing after this mission?” You repeat.

+

Adrian’s offense over Economos’ using the chainsaw evaporates as soon as you grab him by the collar of his suit and yank the bottom half of his cowl from his neck, exposing his mouth. You silence the man with a hungry kiss before he can protest- not that he wants to. His arms catch you as you wrap your thighs around his waist. You both clunk against the side of the team van loudly. Adrian’s head bounces off the surface, but it doesn’t deter him from returning your kiss with vigor.

“Gross.” Economos mutters as he passes.

You kiss Adrian breathless until he can’t help but roll his hips against your pelvis, his length thick and bulging, even through the layers of his uniform. You grind back, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. “Holy shit,” You pant. “I always knew you started working out- I just didn’t know it was for kicking ass.”

Adrian peppers kisses along your throat, a proud smile forming. “You knew I started working out?”

“Are you kidding? I stalk the shit out of your instagram.” You admit happily.

“I- wait.” Adrian stops rutting helplessly against you, much to your dismay. He feels for his mask, confirming that it’s still half on. “How did you...?”

You flush. “I might just be stalking you period. Your Vigilante stuff and you, I mean.”

“Since when?!”

You giggle shyly, canting your hips. It earns you a groan. “Since the twelfth grade?”

“Oh,” Adrian can’t form much of a thought after that when you continue grinding against him in earnest.

Your lips find his again, tongue pushing into his mouth fervently. A deep sound catches in his throat when you reach down and grasp his length through his costume. He spins you around, slamming your back against the van this time.

“Are you two done fucking?” Chris calls from inside. “We’re leavin’ in two minutes.”

“Okay! Just– Just let me be compromised,” Adrian pleads. “T-Two minutes.”

You laugh, pressing your forehead against his. His flushed cheeks and smile are cuter up close than any selfie you’ve ever stolen from his phone.

“Bet I can make it one.”

[scarletttries]

Speaking Volumes (Adrian Chase Request)

Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Rating: Explicit (Gender neutral pronouns through, but AFAB reader for smut purposes). Mention of a bomb and fire for an angsty start, but happy ending as always.

Word Count: 3.3k

Requests: "Can I pls request adrian and the reader hooking up while on a mission with the 11th street kids? and they try to be quiet but fail miserably." And "Ello! I love your fics sm! 🤍And I hope you don't mind but I want to request something for Adrian Chase x Wife! Reader where something happened and they get separated amidst chaos and everything through Adrian tries so hard to find his dear wife 🥺you get to decide the ending so much angst please thanks 😊💕"

Author's Note: Guess whose rewatching Peacemaker and has rediscovered her intense feelings for Adrian Chase 🙃🥰 thank you so much to these two requests that have been chilling in my inbox for months and I hope you enjoy the combo! Please feel free to send my your Adrian Chase thoughts while I try to cope with my feelings 😍

Speaking Volumes

When someone asked Adrian Chase what his 'superpower' was, he might say his weapons skills, his endurance or his ability to heal. If he thought about it more though, he'd say it was his ability to spot any weakness in an opponent, whether in their armour or their character. It had saved his life on more occasions than one, and every time it hardened his resolve to never develop a weakness of his own. But as he stalked through another row of floor-to-ceiling shelves in this industrial warehouse, separated from each and every one of his team he knew he'd failed to protect himself from weakness as his mind perpetually wandered to the agent on the other side of the cavernous structure: you.

Falling for you had been more natural than breathing to Adrian. From the first friendly smile he'd known you were the one, different to everyone he'd ever met, the piece he didn't realise he'd been missing until your eyes met his. The atmosphere between the two of you had been undeniable, and it didn't take long until he couldn't contain his feelings, three little words spilling from his lips every time your paths crossed. And of course, you had no choice but to return them, deeply in love with the strange but endearing vigilante, captivated by his undivided devotion. You settled into a perfectly unusual life together, sharing a small apartment that quickly felt like home, working together on missions with the 11th street kids, and having each other's backs through everything from bad hair days to hostage situations. After spending so much of his life feeling like he couldn't quite connect with others, finding you had been the best thing that had ever happened to Adrian Chase, and it surprised no-one when six months after you met a mission to Las Vegas had ended with a quick stop at a chapel, making sure you two would be bound together forever.

As Adrian peeked out from behind another tall stack of crates, peering down the scope of his rifle, he tried to distract himself from all thoughts of his partner being in an equally dangerous situation, until he heard the distinct cry of Peacemaker's voice,

"FUCK!"

The crates beside him tumbled as the ground seemed to tremble, a deafening boom echoing through the warehouse. Adrian skirted the falling heap just in time to avoid being crushed, but the shelves around him were quickly caving in as the warehouse began to fill with smoke. Adrian's mind was racing - they got the address on this place a little too easily, it must have been a trap all along, wired to blow the second they got deep enough into the labyrinth of shelves. If peacemaker found the bomb he was probably closest, but he could take the damage, he'd be okay. Economos was out in the van and would be watching their backs for an ambush, which left the three other agents inside, possibly hurt, Harcourt, Leota and (Y/N). - His lungs seemed to empty at the realisation, you were in here, separated from him, lost in the chaos of smoke and flames and toppling steel. He could feel the panic setting in as his fingertips tingled with numbness that threatened to become all encompassing, his mouth drying out from more than the rising smoke. He tried to shake off his dread, focus on finding you again, willing his suddenly aching arms to work as he began to clamber haphazardly up the nearest pile of rumble. He could feel eyes start to sting as he lifted himself to a vantage point, vision obscured through the falling tears and climbing flames.

He surveyed the scene in front of him, struggling to make out even the most obvious shapes in darkness, let alone the small form of his forever best friend. His voice croaked as he tried to call your name through the darkness, a fresh cascade of tears joining it as he tried so hard to quiet his relentlessly talkative brain - I'm never going to be able to find them in this mess, and they're probably dead by now anyway. I'm going to be back to being alone, that was it, that was my one person and I couldn't even save them when they needed me. I never deserved them and now everyone will know it. (Y/N) was my one chance at love. - His chest felt bruised with every breath he took, like every falling brick was landing solely on his heart. He stood frozen, never feeling more lost and alone as he tried to scream,

"I can't find you (y/n)!" His desperate voice prevailed this time, echoing over the crackle of smouldering palates, his shuddering chest using every ounce of strength to fight back his inner monologue. - (Y/N) is my love, not was. I'm going to find them, i'm going to save them, that's what husbands do. And I'm a good husband. - He repeated the mantra to himself as he began to press forward through the choking fog, looking for any movement in the wreckage beneath him. He could feel his own lungs burning through the smoke, his ears ringing from the explosion, barely able to centre himself, desperate not to lose his sense of direction in the chaos. And then he saw it, a figure near the exit, thrashing and fighting against twisted beams of crushing steel, blocking their path. He wanted to keep his cool, approach slowly in case it wasn't you, but his heart was screaming so much louder than his brain as he climbed toward the struggling shape.

You had tried to pull yourself up on to the precarious shelves when the bomb went off, but each one seemed to topple towards you at the thought, leaving you trapped in one small corner, steel beams blocking the exit just beyond your reach. You kicked and fought and pulled at the metal, but it was steadfast, deaf to your desperate pleas to move. You tried to calm yourself, keep your breaths shallow, heart-rate slow, telling yourself that Adrian would never leave you behind, unwilling to face the possibility that he might not be able to find you in this obscured atmosphere. You told yourself at least he'd always be okay, and that he's never let you down before, but as the smoke and your tears grew thicker you found yourself beginning to give into hopelessness. You would give anything to hear just one more dumb joke in your husband's voice, to feel his arms around you again, to see his eyes light up when you tell him you love him.

"Is it hot in here, or is it just you?" You heard a familiar voice call out from above you, spinning to see an arm stretching down for you to grab.

"Adrian!" You screamed, in terror and relief that you weren't here alone, your unorthodox angel pulling you out of the fiery depths with ease, wrapping his strong arms around you.

"It's going to be okay (Y/N). Now that I found you, it's going to be okay." He repeated, pulling you close to his chest.

----------------

Through some small miracle, no-one had gotten seriously hurt by the bomb. Chris was a little bruised and cut, and Harcourt had a twisted ankle, but as they sat facing each other in your team safe house, Harcourt gently cleaning the grazes on Chris's chest while he regaled everyone with the brave tale of him carrying Harcourt out of the fire, it seemed like neither of them minded. You laughed at the blush creeping across her cheeks as Emilia insisted it would have been quicker to just let her walk, casting furtive glances in the direction of an unusually quiet Adrian, who was focused on helping Economos carry what they could salvage from the warehouse into the tiny make-shift office at the back of the small house. As a comfortable quiet settled over the room, Harcourt spoke unusually softly,

"I know we all had a scare today, but we got lucky. We're all back here, we're all okay, and we shouldn't take that for granted. But we've still got a job to do, so we need to stick together for a few more days while we get to the bottom of exactly what they didn't want us to find."

The team solemnly nodded, resolved to go the distance on this case, despite the obvious risks. As Leota moved to help Economos set up his laptops, Adrian stepped casually behind you,

"Hey honey, please will you give me a hand moving something in the office?" His voice was overly nonchalant, only an innocent whistle missing from his attempt to act natural, but you were used to his tone being a little off so you followed him to the backroom, watching him quickly shut the door, and tilt a chair in front of the handle.

"Ad-" His lips cut you off with uncharacteristic force, crashing down with the weight of his adoration. He gripped your hips as his body pressed against yours, forcing you backwards, step after step until the small of your back pressed into the edge of the wooden desk that filled the space. Satisfied that he had you trapped against him, Adrian pulled away from the kiss, staring intensely at your face like a man who'd been reminded that one day it would be the last time he had you this close.

"I thought I was going to lose you today (Y/N)." He paused, swallowing the tremble in his throat, still reeling from the feeling of complete loss he had felt staring out across that burning building. "And the thought of living all of the rest of my days without you, was the fucking worst. Literally the saddest thing I could imagine, and it almost happened today and I didn't know what to do, or how to find you, but I knew I had to." His lips captured yours again, a chaste kiss to give him the strength to go on, "I had to find you, because you're the love of my life. And I can't go on without you." His hands crept from your hips to your bum, lifting you slightly until you sat on the edge of the desk, Adrian planted between your thighs. "Harcourt's right, we shouldn't take this for granted." His lips found yours again, satisfied that he had said all he needed to, Vigilante put his lips to better use. Their soft, warm embrace had your head spinning, all but forgetting about the team on the other side of the thin walls as you pulled at the tight fabric of Adrian's shirt. His intense focus seemed to lighten as he leant back, quickly pulling the material over his head, a delighted smile spreading across his cheeks as you pulled his chest towards, lips landing on the curve of his neck.

"I knew you'd find me Adrian. You're my hero." You whispered, leaving a trail of wet kisses over his sensitive throat, feeling the vibration of every soft moan you drew from him. Nuzzling your nose into his muscular jaw you whispered teasingly, "We've got to stay quiet okay Adrian, we don't want everyone to hear." Nipping just below his ear, knowing he can't help but groan at the sensation. Marvelling at your cheeky grin, you could see the excited expression on his face twist into a smirk, like you had given me a challenge he couldn't refuse.

Your lips returned to his chest, while his fingers found the button on your jeans, making quick work of releasing you from them, and sliding them down your legs. He fought back a devilish grin as he rubbed you through your underwear, waiting for your jaw to fall slack before plunging his tongue between your lips, swallowing the breathy whimpers you couldn't hold back. His fingers brushed over the fabric with teasing softness, building up your sensitivity without giving you any relief. He watched your chest rise and fall against his as his free hand unbuttoned your shirt, sliding it off your shoulders without his hungry lips leaving yours. You quickly pulled the tactical tank top you had underneath over your head, giving Adrian unrestricted access to your chest, hoping to spur him into giving you more of what you really wanted. Adrian drank in the sight of you, only covered by your increasingly damp underwear, chest heaving at his every touch, hips bucking to meet his hand as he played with the soft fabric. It took all his effort to fight the instinct to shout about how hot you are at the top of his lungs, but he managed with the need to make it you who couldn't contain themselves.

"Adrian please," You whispered, rubbing his obvious erection over his uniform, giving him your best pleading eyes, aching to feel more of him. He quickly stepped out of his pants, before whispering back,

"You look so fucking hot (y/n), I love when you get all needy because that's like how I feel about you all the time. Just remember you have to be quiet babe."

You opened your mouth to make a snarky response, but what came out was far from coherent words as Adrian fingers slipped beneath the slick fabric and deep into your entrance. You could almost feel his smug smile against your skin as his tongue found your nipple, lapping against the stiff peak as his free hand massaged the other side of your chest. Your skin was on fire as he moved, his thumb running over your wet folds before strumming your clit in steady rhythm with the rest of his touch. The ache inside you only grew as you felt him rubbing himself against your thigh, so turned on as he forced the adoring noises out of you, his name cascading from your lips at an unmistakable volume.

"Shh!" He chuckled against your chest, the vibration only heightening the overwhelming amount of sensation taking over your body, and taking any thoughts that didn't revolve around Adrian far from your mind.

"Adrian." You whimpered again as his fingers worked faster, the glistening wetness filling your underwear making every brush of your clit send electricity through your veins.

"You're so wet," He growled against your sensitive skin, "It's gonna feel so good to be inside you, you're so good to me." You let out an almost pleading moan at his praise, wanting nothing more than to feel more of him inside you, even as the sensation growing in your centre climbed towards its climax. Feeling your thighs start to twitch against his leaking erection, he could tell you were close, silencing the majority of your cries with his lips as he maintained the steady waves of pressure on your clit, playing lightly with your overstimulated nipples until he felt them arch into his hand, your core tensing as your clenched around his relentlessly plunging fingers.

As your head swam with pleasure, you knew there was no way the rest of the team didn't know exactly what was happening, but the least you could do was make Adrian just as guilty as you in disturbing the peace. Pushing his hand away from your pulsing centre you hopped down from the desk, dropping your now soaked underwear to the floor and turning your back to Adrian. Slowly you lent all the way forwards until your chest reached the cool wood of the desk, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking over your shoulder to see an awestruck Adrian staring down at you like he couldn't quite believe how lucky he got.

"Well come on then, give it to me Vigilante." You breathed out quietly, wiggling your hips against his throbbing manhood, earning a deep groan from him. Reaching back you ran his sensitive tip over your glistening folds, earning strangled moan after moan from him before finally you lined him up with your entrance and pushed yourself around him.

"Fuck!" He half cried out, echoing through the room and no doubt the whole house, but still making some attempts to keep his volume in check as he gripped your hips hard and began fucking into you. His hips slammed against your ass as he filled you completely, the sensation quickly building in you again as you began to softly moan,

"You feel you good Adrian, you fill me up so well. I can feel you so deep inside me." With every praise his groans grew louder and his hips bucked harder, his own excitement quickly reaching its peak as he fondled your fleshy hips, squeezing your cheeks as he thrust into you from behind. Desperate to get his volume up to its maximum level you looked back over your shoulder to lock eyes with his, using one hand to interlock fingers with him while the other trailed down your body to settle between your legs. Adrian watched with wide eyes as you brought his fingers to your lips, kissing them softly, then sliding them into your mouth, sucking on them without breaking eye contact. As Adrian's breath caught in his throat, genuinely concerned he might die of happiness before he had the chance to finish, he felt you moan against his hand, now rubbing your slick clit in time with his hammering hips. Bobbing your head against his fingers, running your tongue over the tips, and moaning at your own touch had Adrian shaking in seconds, fighting back his inevitable release just to be able watch this a second longer. The overwhelming look in his wide eyes had a similar effect on you as you felt yourself start to shake again, pulling his fingers from your lips to sigh softly with your release,

"I love you so much Adrian."

"UUHH, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH." His own cry did not come softly and neither did he as he slammed into the back of you, hips stuttering as he filled you with his warmth, worried his legs might collapse beneath him the second he pulled out of you. Willing to take the risk he pulled back, easily manoeuvring you onto your back so he could climb onto the desk and on top of you.

"You're the love of my life too Adrian." You cooed softly, brushing a curl now damp with sweat off his forehead.

"I'm never getting separated from you again," he replied resolutely, before pondering sincerely,

"Do you think anyone heard?" You burst into laughter, knowing whatever teasing you got would be worth it to have your Vigilante safe and close again.

--------------------

"This is your fault you know," Adebayo cursed, casting Harcourt a begrudging look as they all tried to ignore the sound of creaking wood and breathy moans from the next room. "You had to say not to take this for granted."

"Alright fine, someone write a note, we're going to a bar and they can meet us there. First rounds on me." Harcourt admitted begrudgingly, but her soft tone was not nearly as frustrated as it should be, genuinely grateful for the safety of all her friends. Even the annoyingly in love ones.

[starforgedthor]

when you become untouchable {Vigilante | Adrian Chase} // one.

one. i come loaded with the safety switched off

Summary: After earning yourself several life sentences and a one-way ticket to Belle Reve in your early 20s, you've spent the decade and a bit since then establishing yourself as a loyal and effective tool for Waller and her team. As a meta-human who is able to completely know and understand the history of anything you touch, as well as master how to use it, and know exactly where the owner of the object is, but all only while touching the object, it's safe to say that you've developed a reputation as an unmatched hunter, though you've always felt hunter was too ominous a word for you and your upbeat nature.

So now you, Waller's pet supervillain known as The Chaser, find yourself as part of Project Butterfly, in the middle of suburban Washington. The only downside you can see is that everyone on the team is so serious; as the saying goes, if you enjoy what you do, you'll never work a day in your life! So fuck it, who are they to say you can't enjoy what you do, especially if you know you're good at it!? Unfortunately for everyone else, what you do is usually crime... and sometimes murder.

Need to Know: She/Her pronouns. villain!meta-human!reader. self depricating reader. chaos. implied dehumanisation. canon typical violence. possible smut in later chapter i haven't decided. slowish burn

[ masterpost ]

A/N: 2652 words. ive caved and im writing a villain!reader/vigilante series. this is different to the other oc/vigilante things ive been posting except that this is now the fic where The Chaser is a thing. im excited to write this, it's a lot of fun so far xx i would like feedback please!!!

Taglist: OPEN -- message or comment if you'd like to be added xx

If anyone were to ask your opinion on the team you were with, not that anyone ever did, you'd never hesitate to mention that you wished they'd lighten up.

"Careful, Kujo, your sociopathy is showing," Harcourt's voice was dry over dinner at Fennel Fields, though her lips were quirked with the slightest amusement.

"You know my confidence isn't an attack on you," you told her with blunt sincerity, brandishing a mozzarella stick like you're trying to emphasise a point - the grease that clings, the oil that burns, they're made in-house, the exact way to make them, bulk ordered bread crumbs, the machines that processed them, the crumbling, dough forming, wheat into machines, the wheat cut down in the fields, the breeze - "I'm good at my job, that's not bragging that's just a fact."

"Yes, but you're good at everything," Harcourt leans her elbows on the table, chin resting delicately on her knuckles, "isn't that the point of you? Wouldn't being insufferable about it get boring eventually?" She's wearing that thin, mean smile that's unfortunately flattering on her, and you sigh, as if terribly put upon, leaning against the half-wall divider your booth sat against.

"You'd think so," you sigh dramatically, "but considering I'm an idiot eighty percent of the time, I have to get my kicks in how I can," and you angle your head to show her your sharp, smug smile, and she rolls her eyes, sitting back in her seat. You take another bite of the mozzarella stick with a shit-eating grin.

"And they call you The Chaser?" Adebayo asks with faint scepticism as she processes the interaction she's just witnessed.

"Depends on who you ask," you responded lazily, finishing off the mozzarella stick in your hand, and immediately forgetting everything your brain had absorbed, had known while you'd been holding the breadcrumb covered cheese.

"I know who you are, I'm just confused as to why," she huffs a half laugh.

"Waller threw Savant to the wolves, you could have his name," Economos pointed out to you instead of answering Adebayo, though as he flicked a napkin at your face, it hit you in the forehead, "would be more fitting," he adds lamely, like after seeing you fail to catch the napkin, his heart's not in the change of names. The napkin flutters into your lap and you give him an unamused look.

After a beat, however, Murn is the one who answers Adebayo's initial question.

"Everything Y/N touches, she masters, and understands its entire history," he explains, while you leaned around him to shoot Adebayo a bright smile, "including whoever is the current owner of the object and where exactly they are and what state they are in, but only while she's touching it."

"Hence, Savant," Economos said, gesturing to you with a weak wave.

"Idiot Savant," you clarified with a good-natured eye roll, "if I don't make a very serious effort to remember something about the thing I'm touching, it'll-" you make an uncomfortably wet noise as you mime the information sliding out of your head through your ear. After a moment, you pick up your glass and take a sip of water - the restaurant owner's wife technically owns the cups, and you see the employee who filled it, every time its been washed by a busboy, every customer who's ever drunk from it, the cardboard box it had been bought in opened by the restaurateur's wife, the pallets of identical glasses being transported to the store it was bought from, the factory worker boxing it up, the mass production of the glasses, the heat to melt it into shape -

"Everything you touch?" Adebayo asks, incredulously, and then looks to the glass.

"This cup technically belongs to the wife of the restaurant owner; she's sitting on their sofa three blocks away with a Labrador puppy in her lap. She bought the glasses on sale; one was chipped in the set of four so they were eighty percent off," you said without a moment of hesitation, and then took another sip of water for effect, "they use a cheap brand of detergent here."

"I... don't know enough about this restaurant to verify that but it sounds impressive," Adebayo muses, a sentiment you could see honestly reflected in her eyes.

"Show off," Harcourt smirks, something a little proud in her expression that she's ducked to hide. After a beat, however, Harcourt surfaces; "she chose to call herself The Chaser because she's a bitch."

"There's literally no meaner way you could have phrased that!" Your expression lights up surprised outrage, but it's clear you didn't take it to heart, turning, "for the first few weeks -"

"Of your career as a murderer," Harcourt undercuts your moment, but you chose to ignore her.

"As a freelancer," you emphasised, before hesitating and conceding, "who yeah, was hired to kill people when word got around I was good at it," you rolled your eyes, waving your hand by your temple as if dismissing the thought, "anyways people started calling me The Hunter, and when I think of the name The Hunter, I think of like, Robin Hood, a green aesthetic and men in tights, which really just made me think of Green Arrow, and that guy? You wanna talk about unbearable, that's your man," you hoped your expression conveyed the earnestness of your hatred for him, before snorting dismissively, "and anyways, Hunter is such a heavy word for what I do; it implies I always kill them, which I don't."

After a beat to let your words sink in, Harcourt actually grins.

"And because she's-"

"Stop telling people I'm a furry!" You practically shouted over Harcourt with well worn exasperation, though her grin only got wider.

"Calm down, Kujo," her response comes with a fond kind of amusement the others had rarely seen.

"I called myself The Chaser because I thought it was light and befitting of the main reason I used to be hired," you said, voice lowering as the moment passes easily, "and now," you flourish your hands, before resting your elbow on the table and your chin in your hand, "I'm doing my dream job."

"Being part of a secret government task force?" Adebayo says incredulously, to which you shrugged easily.

"As long as I get to use my powers and travel, I'm happy; what are they gonna do? Arrest me again for following their orders? No," you snorted. Thankfully the moment I'd immediately derailed when Harcourt spots Peacemaker pulling up in his fully costume, a bald eagle in his back seat. The good mood that only you seemed to be able to elicit from her had disappeared, as did everyone else's.

When Peacemaker finally recognises you, his expression lights up with a strange kind of realisation and a 'oh yeah, everyone in Belle Reve knows Kujo', and you have to grit your teeth at that.

When you weren't working solo missions for Waller or the government, your powers were being used by your fellow inmates to find snitches trying to hide, settle disputes of ownership, or find out which guards were distributing contraband. Even in a power dampener collar, you had the faintest meta-human abilities, and it was more than a lot of folks you were locked up beside. Despite operating at your bare minimum while inside Belle Reve, a lot of people found you incredibly useful. It's a situation you preferred to forget; between being seen as a tool rather than a person, the unfulfilling requests everyone had, and how it felt like you were always scraping the bottom of the barrel to use even a fraction of your power, there was no time in your life you hated more.

After Peacemaker's comment, you find yourself quiet for the rest of dinner, far quieter than you had been before. Thankfully Peacemaker himself is loud enough for both of you, and no-one asks you any questions.

The dinner comes to a close, and you’ve still got half your plate unfinished in front of you. Everyone’s set to head home, or at the very least, head out for the night, but you’re still stuck in your head, memories growing teeth as you think back on Belle Reve and how powerless you had felt inside its walls.

“I’m going to grab a drink before turning in,” Harcourt’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, and you surface to see she’s the only one still in the restaurant, standing at the end of the table, watching you. She doesn’t ask if you’re okay, she doesn’t even ask if you want to join her, at least not out loud; she pulls a zip-tie out of her back pocket and offers it to you, wordlessly. The familiar routine brings a smile to your face, and you take it – you can see her, sense her there even with your eyes closed; it was her zip-tie to begin with, pulled from the pack this morning, and a week spent in a hardware store, shipped to the store with pallets all containing packets identical, packaged by meticulous machines, produced by the billions, fragile plastic warped from far bigger sheets -. With that, she gives a solid nod and heads to the door, following after the others. You loop the zip-tie around one wrist and only tighten it enough so it won’t fall off. Then, with a renewed spirit, you dig in to your meal, finishing it off.

It's as you’re finishing the last of your meal that you find yourself thinking about your own freedom for the night. You’d earned yourself several life sentences in the few years that you’d ‘freelanced’, enough time on your sentence that a lifetime of work with Taskforce X probably wouldn’t help you, but you were being unfortunately genuine when you’d called this your dream job. With a stipend from the government, getting to travel, getting to use your powers and often commit crimes, of which murder was not uncommon, it really was the ideal situation for you; people ask about your prospects outside of prison, but none of them seem to realise that you’d be doing this whether or not you were in prison, but now you can’t even get arrested for it. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, or even call it sad, you found it to be neither; you’re thrilled someone finally recognised you for what you’re truly capable of, and after almost a decade playing this part, you’ve been granted some trust, some wiggle room, some freedom in a sense.

So maybe you’ll join Harcourt at the bar, or find somewhere open late in town, or you could lay face down in the parking lot for an hour if the mood struck you; the world may not be your oyster, but this questionable town in Washington certainly was.

It’s only when you’ve finally decided to head to the bar and grab a drink with Harcourt that you finally notice the busboy who’s been hovering by the end of the counter, throwing glances at you ever few minutes, yet still trying to act covert. Wait… looking around, you see the restaurant is almost empty now, and sure it hadn’t been full to begin with, but it couldn’t be that – they’re closing in ten minutes. How long had you been stuck in your own head?

Immediately you’re calling out apologies; they probably could have left early if it wasn’t for you, but the minute you make eye contact with the guy in the red uniform who’s waiting, he’s brushing them off. As you’re attempting to pile all of the table’s dishes to make it easier to clean up, he comes over and tries to tell you that it’s no trouble. Still, you pile all the dishes and try and collect up all the cutlery to hand to him, trying to supress the nausea that always came whenever you were touching a lot of objects in rapid succession, the immediate flood of knowledge followed in mere moments by forgetting it all. Usually your gloves kept all of that at bay, but you’d had them off to eat and now –

You go to pass the guy your knife, handle first and unused, and in the half second in which you are treated to an encyclopaedic knowledge of this steak knife, amongst all other moments of this knife’s existence, is –

- suds from cheap detergent and a sink of water that should probably be drained, the scourer scraping off food remnants that cling, but then several minutes spent using the knife as a weapon; the movements being practiced are particular and harsh, movements sharp and deliberate. You know because the moment your fingertips had even brushed the knife you knew how to bed cut a steak as well as how to best cut a man, but this moment amongst the suds and grime is both practiced and in practice. There’s more times than you can count where you understand that someone was trying to practice flipping the knife, the night air cold, swearing each time it’s dropped or it cuts the user by accident; he’s used this knife enough that you understand how long it took him to actually get good at the knife tricks -

And the hands picking up the remaining cutlery are the same hands that taught themselves to flip this knife, to practice violence among soap suds. Maybe you’re jumping to conclusions, maybe it’s simply how he passes the time, trying to make himself cooler, or to defend himself. Gripping the knife a little tighter, you wince as you realise the serrated edge is pressing into the heel of your palm, not enough to bleed, but enough to steal your focus.

“Thanks,” the busboy says a little awkwardly once the table’s clear. You’re still standing next to the booth with the knife, “I can take that for you,” he offers. He’s disarmingly cheerful, though perhaps it’s only disarming considering the moments you keep replaying over and over in your head.

“Sure,” you murmur absentmindedly, and flip the knife in the exact way you’d watched him try to master for months in your mind; the way you master anything you can touch has always been an interesting gift, as if your body borrows the muscle memory of everyone who’s ever used it without you even having to think about it. The busboy blinks several times at the movement, at you now holding out the knife to him. Then, his gaze meets yours; in your mind, you see him stab at the side of the metal sink that he snaps the very tip of the knife off, only by a millimetre or two, but there’s the faintest dent in the sink that no-one else has noticed. It’s been months.

He takes the knife, and you find yourself blinking quickly as everything about this one damn steak knife immediately dissipates from your head.

“How’d you do that?” He asks, looking at the knife, “I’ve been trying to get it for ages but…” he trails off, and you look at the piece of cutlery in his hand.

“Man, I wish I knew,” you laughed, rocking back on your heels. You know now that he’s probably far more dangerous and capable than he looks, but you hadn’t bothered to memorise the moments. Something about a sink? He was asking about a knife flip; you knew you did it, you’d just never be able to really explain how.

“Sorry, I know that that’s kind of a dick answer,” you gave a weak chuckle, “I wish I could help you, but I’ve already definitely overstayed my welcome,” you hoisted your bag up your shoulder, “sorry about that,” you cast your gaze around the empty restaurant, to host by the till giving you a tired look, “again.”

And as you scurry out of the building, you call a final thanks to the kitchen, and decide you need a damn drink.

[powerfultenderness]

Some Things Are Hard

Rated: T+

Pairing: gn!Reader/Vigilante

Summary: Adrian helps you through your latest depressive episode. (comfort fic/fluff)

Warnings: depictions of depression. 

Word Count: 2779

A/N: [Some mental health resources] Adrian loves you. 🧜‍♂️

Music Rec: My Therapy- Kamelot 

[Masterlist]  

[Line Divider]

It all started on Adrian’s birthday. Well, the day after his birthday to be exact. See, everyone forgot it. He’d been buzzing the entire day, which annoyed everyone else more than usual. But by the end of the night he looked so upset and sad that even Chris was wondering what was up.

The next day it was Economos who figured out why he’d been upset, after a quick look at Adrian’s socials.

“I can’t believe you don’t know Adrian’s birthday!” Adebayo scolded Chris as everyone rushed in a guilty panic to do something for Adrian's birthday before he showed up. 

“ME?!” Chris then pointed at you, “you’re the one that’s always hanging out with him, you should have known!”

“Don’t throw me under the bus! I’m still new! Ads is right! Isn’t he your best friend?” 

“No! Eagly is and you know it!” 

It wasn’t long after that that Adrian showed up, a little pout still on his lips and his step a little less bouncy than usual. 

Chris gave him a Gatorade, Harcourt gave him a half empty box of ammo, Economos sent him an e-card, and Adebayo gave him the trail mix she had packed for lunch. 

You scrambled for something, anything, and came up with nothing. So after everyone gave him their impromptu gifts, claiming that it wouldn’t have been a surprise if they did this on his birthday, you did the only thing you could think of: you hugged him. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, surprised by how comforting it was to hold him. Lucky for this little part of your last second plan, he was still wearing his civilian clothing, as the Vigilante suit would rob you both of the warmth and sensation of being so close. One of your hands snaked into his hair, your fingers gently scratching his scalp. If the quiet hum he let out was anything to go by, he liked it and soon he was returning your hug. He wrapped one of his arms around your waist while his other hand was planted in the middle of your back, pressing you even closer to him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and took a deep breath, letting himself relax fully in your arms. 

“Happy birthday, Adrian.” You smiled softly at him when you finally untangled yourself from him.

He was looking down at you with bright shining eyes and the most adoring smile on his face. “Thank you.” 

-

After that, whenever he felt even the slightest bit sad, or left out, or excited, or happy- any excuse really- he would turn to you for a hug. Sometimes they were just quick, often they didn’t feel as deep as that first hug, but they were no less enjoyable for their fleeting affection.

A few months after his birthday, Adrian saw something in you. He wasn’t sure what it was. You just…didn’t look the same when you smiled. He asked Adebayo about it, and she said he must be imagining things. He noticed that you didn’t say much on the last mission, Harcourt said it was because you were focused. Then, even on the occasions that you did hang out with the team after hours, you would be the first to go home. Economos said you were probably just tired. When you didn’t laugh at one of his jokes, offering instead only a wan smile to let him know you hadn’t ignored him, Peacemaker said it was because he wasn’t funny. 

It was after the third time you didn’t show up to have drinks with the team that Adrian decided that no matter what the others said, something was wrong and he was going to find out what.

-

You had felt it creeping in, the depression, and you fought hard to hold it back. You had been on an upswing when you joined the team, satisfied with your job and life, though being a black ops agent did get a bit lonely. You had no idea joining this rag tag team would feel like finding a place, people, where you truly belonged. And for at least a few months you were happy…but a scathing bite from someone you thought of as a friend, someone forgetting a date you set up, another speaking over you, all resulted in little cracks in your confidence. It culminated in you fucking up a mission. If Vigilante hadn’t been nearby, not only would the mission have failed, you’d be dead. 

With your confidence thoroughly shaken it took twice as many shots for you to take out an enemy, it took you twice as long to do your job. What was the point of you being in the field if Vigilante was just going to essentially act as your bodyguard? If he was going to do that, Economos might as well have left the van, at least he would have managed to sabotage the right hard drive in just a few minutes. 

What was the point of you being on the team at all? You were…useless. They were better off without you.

-

After another stressful mission in which you thoroughly fucked up, you decided to forgo the post mission drinking session, again. Not that the others cared. You were certain, as you’d overheard Chris say that he was glad when things felt like “the old crew”. The only member of the team not part of the old crew being you. You didn’t want to disturb them, so you took your time packing up, pretending that you were too preoccupied to hear their plans. 

As you were waiting for them to leave, so you didn't have to make up an excuse to deny the polite, but pity, invitation that Adebayo would offer, you felt Adrian suddenly hug you from behind.

He already changed out of his Vigilante suit, dressed in a simple tee shirt and jeans. His muscular arms around you sent an unfamiliar, and terrifying, heat through your body. It shouldn’t be unfamiliar, you reminded yourself, he’d hugged you a hundred times, if not more, before. Why was it so suddenly…frightening?

“Vigilante.” You whispered, stiff in his arms. “What are you doing?” 

His arms flexed at your words, not quite tightening his hold on you, but certainly reminding you that he had no intention of letting go. 

“Hugging you.” 

You remained still, your heart beginning to race, your face beginning to flush and your eyes beginning to water. It was like Vigilante hugging you, holding you, was starting to break down the last of your walls. 

You took a shaky breath and lightly tapped his arm, “well, you can let go now.”

“Nope.” 

His response was so quick it confused you. “What?” 

“I like hugging you.” 

Your hand stilled on his forearm. Your heart furiously hammered in your chest, so much that you were afraid he would hear it. 

When you didn’t respond, he gently nuzzled his face into your neck, his nose lightly brushing against the side of your jaw. “I like you.” 

‘Lies. Nobody does.’ The part of you you’d been trying to suppress echoed in your mind and your heart.

Perhaps thankfully for his sake, you didn’t give voice to those thoughts aloud. You couldn’t, your chest felt too tight for you to say anything. You tried your best to stop your trembling, causing the hand you had on his arm to grip tight enough that your nails nearly drew blood. His embrace was so warm behind you and you hadn’t realized how cold you were. 

Finally, as you took a deep breath, you blinked and the tears that had welled up in your eyes fell. He stiffened behind you when he felt the tear hit his arm, “what’s wrong?”

You let go of him and quickly drew the back of your hand across your face to dry the tears that kept coming. “Nothing. Just-” you placed your hand back on his arm and tried to push him away from you. “Vigi-”  

“Adrian.” 

You froze. Using his first name now felt too familiar. First names were reserved for friends and family. 

“Why did you stop calling me Adrian?” He quietly questioned as he pulled away just enough to catch your eyes with his. You tried to look away but one of his hands came up to gently nudge your chin so that you were looking at him.

“You stopped hugging me too. And you stopped smiling.” 

“I- I smile.” 

His thumb brushed away a stray tear before he gently turned you so that you were now facing him. “Fake smiles. No one else has noticed. But I noticed.” 

His hands were now resting on your hips, keeping you close to him. The way his thumbs were running soft circles against your hips, the way his scent enveloped you, and the way he was looking at you, big green eyes filled with concern, was too much for you. You dropped your head, your forehead hitting his sternum and tried to force back your tears, again. 

“I-it’s nothing, Adrian. Just. You should catch up with the others…” Though you said this, you made no attempt to move yourself. You didn’t want to bother him, yet the moment you leaned into him, and he moved his hands from your hips to pull you into another tight hug, you knew you didn’t want to be alone anymore. 

“I’m not gonna leave you.” His voice was low but as gentle as the way he held you. “Ever.” 

A sob finally ripped past your lips as you clutched at Adrian’s shirt and cried. This time he didn’t try to ask what was wrong, he just let you cry and tried his best to offer you what comfort he could.

After some time you eventually stopped crying and, too weak to stand on your own, you slumped against Adrian, vaguely aware that the front of his shirt was wet with your tears and snot.

“Can you tell me now?”

You sighed and pulled away from him, your hand swiping at your face again, to lean against the desk behind you. He let you sit but his hands remained holding you.

“Honestly, Adrian, it’s noth…” you looked up at him and suddenly your lie (you weren't even sure why you felt the need to lie in the first place) died on your lips. You couldn’t lie to him, not with the way he was looking at you, clearly worried and eager to help. 

You leaned into him again, to hide your face from his gaze, and mumbled into his shirt. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing if-” “No. I’m nothing.”

“What?” “Everyone else sees it, Adrian.” 

“What? What do they see? I don’t see it.” He genuinely sounded like he was wondering if he needed to get his eyes checked. It almost brought a smile to your lips.

“I’m.”  You swallowed thickly, afraid to finally voice your feelings out loud. “Useless. Worthless. Nothing.” 

“What!” He quickly jerked away from you, you nearly fell from the loss of his support, but he caught your face in his hands and made you look up at him. His eyes shook as he looked at you, suddenly very worried about the way your eyes looked so vacant.

“That’s not true at all!” 

You closed your eyes and let your chin fall to your chest, part of you too tired to argue and part of you unable to look at him. You brought your hands up to his and pulled them away from your face, you held his hands in your lap as you continued.

“Sometimes I feel.” 

“Feel what?” He tried to maneuver his face so you could look at him again, but your eyes were still closed.

“All of it. I can feel that everyone is tired of me, wish that I would leave. And I feel alone. That’s when I get like this.”

He squeezed your hands gently. “No. I don’t want you to leave.”  

“Sometimes I don’t feel. I’m just empty. Like there’s nothing left of me.” You finished, your hands going limp and letting go of his. 

He didn’t let go of your hands.

“When you get real quiet…” 

You nodded. Now he saw. 

He was quiet for a moment as he processed what you said. You took it as a sign that he too was realizing that he couldn’t, or didn’t want to, be around you. He was the last one left. Please don’t go. 

Adrian scrunched up his face and shook his head, no, he couldn’t just let you believe any of this! It wasn’t true at all! You were amazing! Everything about you was! And if he had to be with you everyday to make sure you understood that, then he’d be with you everyday! It wasn’t even a difficult decision for him, he already wanted to be with you all the time!

“Let’s go.” He said, voice a bit more stern, but still holding a trace of gentleness from before.

He pulled you off the desk so quickly that you stumbled into him with an undignified squeak. 

“W-what? Adrian?” 

He led you upstairs without another word, into the unofficial med bay that had been made more comfortable since Judomaster escaped. He made you sit near one end of the couch before making you lay down. 

“Err, what-”

Your mind went blank as he then climbed on top of you, holding himself up by his arms and dropped his forehead to yours. He’d been close to you before, hugging you did require a certain amount of closeness, but this was a new level of intimacy that was nearly overwhelming. 

“You said you feel alone. I’m going to stay with you so you know you’re not alone.” 

You opened your mouth but you didn’t know what to say, instead you just bit your lip and tried not to cry. 

“You said you feel empty,” he continued, nose trailing down the side of your face so he could nuzzle his face into your neck. “So I’m gonna fill you up.” 

…

…

You snorted and suddenly burst out laughing, “what the fuck, Adrian?!” you nearly screeched. You had to turn your head so that you weren’t laughing loudly in his ear. 

“That.” Laughter. “Sounds.” Snort. “So.” Giggle. “Fucking.” Chortle. “Dirty!” Cackle. 

Adrian lifted his head so he could see you laugh, a wide smile spreading across his face as he saw you light up again. He laughed with you, dropping his head to your shoulder until you both quieted down, breathless from laughing so much and so suddenly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he nudged your legs apart with his knee, “but if you want me to…” 

You started laughing again, once again turning your face away from him, which resulted in him dipping his face into the crook of your neck again, the breath from his laughs heating your skin.

He stopped laughing first, noticing that you were crying again. He frowned and reached out to wipe the tears away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

You shook your head and looked at him again, this time a smile lingering on your lips. “Those are just tears from laughing too hard.”

“Oh. Is that a good thing?”

You nodded, “yea. Thank you, Adrian.” 

“For what?” He blinked, unsure of what he did.

“For everything.” 

He touched his forehead to yours again, his nose lightly bumping against yours. “I’ll always be here for you.” 

Your heart raced and heat rushed to your face and down your chest as you looked up into his shining green eyes. For once you heard truth in words of comfort, his words, his vow, didn’t ring hollow. It wasn’t just his body heat that you felt, or his scent that you would happily drown in. It was something else entirely. You could almost mistake it for…

He wasn’t leaving.

“Adrian,” you whispered, but you didn’t know how to express how you felt. 

He understood anyway. 

He grinned and maneuvered the both of you again, this time so that you were both laying on your sides, facing each other. “Did you know dolphins can only breathe through their blowholes?”

You shouldn’t have been so surprised by the sudden change of subject matter, “uh, what?”

“I know! It’s wild right! They have mouths!”

You giggled at his words, nuzzling into his chest and letting him ramble on about dolphins.

You spent the rest of the night wrapped up in Adrian’s arms, laughing at all the nonsense that he could come up with, the warmth he radiated seeping into your core and, just as he said he would, filling you up. 

[skvatnavle]

Congratulations on your follower milestone Sofie! For the celebration, please could I request Rick Flag and "thank you for being in my life" <3

Alone time

Rick Flag x reader

Notes: This was a great ask and I really had fun with this one. So I hope you like it Katy ❤

Warnings: SMUT! Fingering, unprotected sex, a little dash of breeding kink. It's portrayed very realistic, cause sex ain't always easy and perfect in real life.

Words: 1803

Some days were harder than others. He knew it would be this way. Still, half asleep at his desk, he wished for a break. Resting his head in his palm, his eyes start closing yet again. Head drooping, as he tries to focus on the screen.

He is jerked awake by a stack of reports thrown on his desk. Waller gives him her trademark sour expression, eyeing him as Rick tries to compose himself.

“Are we working you that hard, Flag?” she says in that humourless, monotone voice of hers, he’d grown to hate.

“No sir. MA’AM! I mean, Ma’am” he rubs his face, embarrassed, as he fakes a small smile. A few desks away, Economos and Harcourt try to hold back their grins. Waller just scoffs as she walks away. Shit. He’d probably pay for that later.

“What’s gotten you so tired?”

“You know what.” Rick answers a little more harshly than intended. Pinching the top of his nose, he takes a deep breath, looking back at John. “Sorry, I only got 3 hours last night.”

He stands, leaving the office. Maybe some coffee would help. Damn, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been this tired.

The rest of the day he tries to stay awake on one too many cups of coffee. As he gets into his jeep, he sighs a little. Hopefully today would be better than yesterday.

It’s not that he was ungrateful. He wouldn’t change a single thing. Well, maybe one. More sleep. He knew when he signed up for this life, there’d be hard days. No sleep, pushing yourself to the limit, boundaries being crossed.

As he parks in the driveway, he sits still for a few minutes, enjoying the quietness. Pulling the key from the ignition switch, he exits his car, dragging his feet up to the front door. Once inside, he drops his keys on the table.

“Darlin’, I’m home.”

The sound of tiny bare feet on the hardwood floor comes towards him. As soon as she rounds the corner, Rick instantly smiles, tiredness forgotten.

“Da da” she coos as she runs to him, demanding to get picked up. Crouching down, he lifts his daughter and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

When she demands to be lifted into the living room, a soft ‘aye aye ma’am’ leave Rick’s lips. Only two years old and she already have him tied around his little finger. As he looks into her big hazel eyes, his heart swells. Forget what he said earlier, definitely worth a few sleepless nights.

As they enter the living room, they find you on the floor, playing peek-a-boo with your son. As they sit down next to you, Rick leans in for a quick sweet kiss. Eyeing his dad, Dylan wiggles. Still not crawling, Rick scoots over, blowing raspberries on his stomach, drawing small giggles from the little boy.

Sitting back up, he eyes his kids. Emily brings Dylan toys, already a great big sister. This is more than he had ever hoped he’d get, so despite all the hard days and nights, he cherishes every single minute he gets.

“Honey?” you say softly, cupping his cheek. He kisses you quickly, a reassurance everything is fine. But you pull him closer, kissing him again a little longer this time. Such an innocent gesture, yet every nerve ending in him ignites. Fuck, how long had it been since you’ve had sex? He missed being close to you, missed the softness of you.

Guilt washes over him. He shouldn’t think like this with everything you did for him. taking care of his kids, keeping the house, making sure there was dinner on the table every night. He tried helping, but between Waller and the squad, sometimes the days dragged out. He wishes he was home more, that he could spend more time with you, with the kids.

“Rick?”

He is pulled from his strain of thought by your soft voice. A concerned expression on your face, he takes your hand and place a soft kiss in your palm.

“It’s nothing. Just tired and… I miss you”

“Well, it’s a good thing you have me to yourself tonight, then” you say with a bright smile. Before Rick can ask, the door opens, your mother comes in. A whirlwind of a woman, she was sometimes a little too much, but today Rick had never been more grateful for his mother-in-law.

After some small talk, kisses and goodbyes, you close the door, leaving you and Rick alone.

“That was a big bag for a few hours” he tries softly, knowing that your previous times alone had been a few hours, tops. You close the distance, a look in your eyes that instantly makes his cock twitch in anticipation.

“We have until noon tomorrow” you coo seductively, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. He’s on you in an instant, hand behind your head, deepening the kiss further. A low growl escapes him as he pulls away, finding your beautiful eyes.

“I sure as hell hope you haven’t made reservations, darlin’, cause,” he hoists you up by your thighs, carrying you towards the bedroom. “I ain’t planning on leaving the bedroom before tomorrow.”

Throwing you down on the bed, his mouth is on you again instantly. Fuck, how he missed this. Unable to hold back much longer, he tears your shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Before you can protest, he plants feverish kisses on you, pulling down the cups of your bra. He knows your breasts are still very sensitive, so he softly nips at them, leaving you squirming under him.

Your fingers run down his body, sending shivers through him. He couldn’t wait to be inside you. It had been so long, so fucking long. When you tug at the hem of his shirt, he eagerly helps you and pull the shirt over his head, his mouth finding yours again, devouring you.

“Hi, sorry I’m back! I forgot the rabbit!”

Rick curses under his breath. He loved his mother-in-law and yet… there were times where he could curse her to hell.

“Don’t move” he orders quietly, getting out of bed. Quickly finding the rabbit, he runs to the hall where your mother is waiting, not even bothering to cover up or hide his erection. Eyeing Rick, she smirks knowingly.

“Jumping right to it, I see?” she snickers. But the grin quickly fades as Rick almost throws the stuffed rabbit in her hands and push her gently out the door. Giving her a quick smile, he shuts the door and locks it, before hurrying back to the bedroom. You’re gone. Where did you go?

He hears the shower running in the bathroom, smirking at the thought of you naked under the water. He quickly discards the rest of his clothing before opening the door, only to find you brushing your teeth.

“Oh, I thought you were...”

When you see that he’s completely naked, you let out a soft laugh. He doesn’t even bother covering up, letting you marvel in all his glory. All of his glory.

“I hadn’t brushed my teeth today. And I do really need a shower. Dylan puked on me, and I really need to shave-”

Rick listens to you rambling. He really couldn’t care less about hair and throw up, he just wants you. You come over, giving him a soft kiss, before smiling seductively at him.

“Just wait for me in the bedroom. I’ll be right in.”

When you exit the shower, you feel like a new woman. It’s amazing what a shower can do. As you slip on some lingerie, you take a look in the mirror. A few pounds heavier, things… drooping. Before you can talk yourself into a dark hole, you walk out of the bedroom, ready to seduce your husband.

The sight on the bed makes you giggle. There he is, in all his glory, mouth open in a snore. Sitting down beside him, for a minute you just take in his handsome features. He was so handsome, but his good looks couldn’t even begin to match how beautiful he was on the inside. He was so kind, funny and loyal. He was an amazing dad to Emily and Dylan, spending every moment he could with them, never wanting to miss anything. Even on night like yesterday, he gladly took the night watch so you could sleep. You really didn’t deserve him.

Deciding to let him sleep for a bit, you plant a soft kiss on his forehead, before slipping out of the bedroom.

He opens his eyes, finding yours looking back. Then it dawns on him. Fuck, how long had he been out?

“I’m so sorry I feel asleep, darlin’.”

You just brush off his apology, knowing full well how tired he was. “No apology needed, honey. Dinner just arrived”

Sitting up, he puts his arms around you, pulling you closer. His hands move up your thighs, up under your little lacy nightgown, giving a light squeeze to your ass.

“What if I’d rather eat you?” he drawls, voice thick with sleep and lust. Licking his bottom lip, his gaze falls between your legs, where you’re bare for him.

“Well, we can always heat it up later”

He pulls you down on the bed, rolling on top of you. His mouth finds yours in a hungry kiss as his hands move down between your legs. Already wet, you moan as he pushes two fingers into you, stretching you open as his thumb rub your clit. Expertly, from years of knowing you, he makes you fall apart fast, leaving you a whimpering mess under him.

“Rick… Please.”

As you try to reach for the condoms in the nightstand, Rick pins you down, his eyes dark with desire. Looking into your eyes, he pushes into you in one trust. You moan as he stretches your tight walls, overwhelmed with feeling him again. You know it’s not safe, but you can’t help but clench around him.

“Rick?”

“You said you wanted four kids? Might as well try for number 3, darlin’” he smirks, as his lips find your neck, sucking gently as he pulls another moan from you.

As the first rays of sunshine comes through the window, Rick’s hand is already on you, keen on making you fall apart for him again.

"Thank you for being in my life. I don't know what I would do without you" he mutters softly against your skin, kissing you softly.

A polar opposite to last night where he fucked you hard, made you scream out him name over and over, before filling you to the brim with him cum, he’s now making love to you. slow and passionate, he lets you feel every inch of his cock as he thrusts into you passionately. You still have a few hours before you need to pick up the kids and he plans on using that time to show just exactly how much he loves you.

Thank you so much for reading <3

Tagging: @fictionalnerdery @a-reader-and-a-writer @loverhymeswith @yespolkadotkitty @lacontroller1991 @green-socks @violetmuses @babblydrabbly @all-the-things-i-done @maddu-oliveira @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42 @edwardbaldwin @bin-bones @charnelhouse

[modern-vellichor]

Hi! I loved your adrian chase fic so much he's such a sweetie 🧜‍♂️🖤 Is it okay if I request an adrian fic where reader's usually quiet and usually works with the tech stuff (secretly an asassin but only leota knows) but when he gets captured reader is ruthless when they fight and rescues him or sumth and his feelings for them is amplified like 1000x and gets super turned on

-a/n; i love love love this. i have been thinking about this all day. -warnings; violence :), blood, nsfw 18+

"Fuck," you murmured, typing frantically at your laptop.

Harcourt had lost communication twenty minutes ago, but Vigilante and Peacemaker were still online, and Leota had assured that Harcourt was fine. John tried to get her comms back up and running, but couldn't. Then Peacemaker went dark with Leota. The panic was already setting in, even though Vigilante was doing his best to keep you calm. But then he screamed, and all communication had been lost. That was five minutes ago, and only God knows what could be happening in that goddamned basement.

"Economos, can you get a visual?"

"No."

You mulled the idea over in your head. You'd be risking your life. You hadn't been on the filed in years. All of your skills were rusty. It was the only choice. John quizzed you while you hurriedly loaded a gun. You didn't give him much of an explanation before you were bounding out of the van and towards the stairwell.

You could hear muffled screams as you reached the door to the basement. You kicked the door open. Your four agents were gagged and tied to chairs. A group of very large men gathered around them. They all turned to stare at you. Leota's screams grew panicked, more so than before. She was warning you. You could make out her muffled begs of "Run". But you stood your ground.

The first man lunged at you. You raised your gun and shot. It took three bullets before he fell to the ground. Your one gun wasn't going to cut it. Adrian wriggled in his chair, trying to loosen the ropes around his wrists. He watched you fight, totally enamoured with you. He fell even more in love with you as more blood soaked your clothes. He audibly moaned when he watched you take a knife from a dead man's body.

The knife felt familiar in your grip. The blood was hot and sticky against your skin. Only three men remained. You launched yourself at the biggest. You threw yourself at him, swinging your legs up and around his neck. You sunk the blade into the side of his neck, hitting all the major arteries. He fell. You landed on your feet, immediately knocking the second man down. He died when his head hit the floor.

Adrian squirmed in his chair again - he was getting very hard.

The last man fell to his knees. You stood behind him, facing the four. You were bloodied and bruised, and totally spent. You were panting heavily. Adrian had to hold back a pathetic whimper at the sight.

"I want you to know," you grunted, pulling the man's hair so that his neck snapped back and he was forced to meet your gaze. "That my face is going to be the last you'll ever see."

You slit his throat.

You approached Peacemaker, who looked stunned and a little frightened. You cut all the ropes that tied their wrists and one by one, the group returned to the van. Adrian was the last to be freed. He caught his breath and you made to leave. He grabbed your wrist. He stood up and pulled you into his chest. Very suddenly, he kissed you. He kissed you hard. You could feel the bulge in his pants and you whined.

"When we get outta here," he mumbled. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard."

"Adrian!" You giggled, slapping his chest playfully.

"I swear," he grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist as you sauntered out of the basement. "You look, like, super hot covered in blood."

[theowritesstuff]

Ring Shopping

Adrian Chase x afab!gn!reader

A/N: This takes place after Fooled Around and Fell in Love and A Trip to the DMV.

Summary: Adrian wants to go ring shopping for you, and attempts to get the 11th Street Kids to help him.

Warnings: mentions of stabbing

Adrian Chase Taglist: @bb-skyrunner @rishlurh

General Taglist: @neptuneswritingwork @violetrainbow412-blog

Adrian’s Pov

Adrian decided, not too long after you’d officially became Y/n Chase, that he might as well just ask you the big question. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, however long or short it may be, and he’d hoped you felt the same.

You’d become well adjusted to living together, both coexisting in the same space. You’d even gotten a job like you said you wanted to. Life was perfect.

Adrian had someone that he felt finally understood him, and cared for him, the same way he cared about them.

Of course, it only made sense to get the help of his best friend when it came time to shop for a ring. He’d been saving money from working at Fennel Fields to buy the perfect ring for you.

He was able to convince Chris to come with him to the small jewelry shop in Evergreen on a day you thought he had work. The pair walked around the store, looking at the different rings, before an older woman came up to them.

“Hello, can I help you two?” She asked.

“Yeah, actually, I’m looking to buy a ring, for my partner. I wanna propose.” Adrian said, a smile on his face.

She looked back and forth between Chris and Adrian. “Oh, are you two- because of course we support you, it’s just odd that you’d bring your partner with you-”

“Me? With him? No way!” Chris scoffed.

“Hey!” Adrian looked at him, clearly offended. “You’d be lucky to date me! I’m a catch!”

“Yeah, okay.” Chris laughed.

“I’m so sorry, I just thought you two looked so close-” The woman tried to apologize.

“It’s okay, really.” Adrian said.

The woman introduced herself as Carol, the owner of the shop. She showed the pair various different rings. Adrian didn’t feel like any were the right fit, and Chris didn’t really have any good input. He mostly spent his time there making fun of Adrian for wanting to get married.

Okay, so Chris was no help, Adrian thought the logical thing to do would be to go through his bff list, and hopefully someone along the way would be able to help him.

That meant, next was Eagly. Chris tried to explain that Eagly probably wouldn’t be allowed in the jewelry store, bug Adrian tried nonetheless.

Eagly had gotten about three feet inside before he’d started pecking at the glass cases, and Adrian was promptly escorted out.

After Eagly was Economos.

Economos wasn’t much help either. He mostly just made comments about Adrian’s proposal being “too soon” and asked if he was sure you even wanted to marry him.

It wasn’t long before Adrian got annoyed with Economos’ impassive voice, and dragged him out of the store.

Both Chris and Economos seemed disinterested in Adrian’s proposal, walking around the store, not giving any feedback.

Maybe the women of the group would be better helpers.

Adrian practically had to beg Harcourt to go with him. She refused over and over, until finally snapping, claiming that if Adrian asked one more god damn time she would shove a knife through his heart.

He let out a boisterous laugh at that. “I’d like to see you try!” He exclaimed.

When arriving at the store, Carol took one look at Harcourt and beamed. “You must be Y/n! Your beau has been in so many times looking for your ring.”

Harcourt gagged. “I’m not Y/n, and you couldn’t pay me enough money to marry him.” She gestured to Adrian, who just frowned.

“I’m just here to help him look.” She said.

“Oh, of course, I’m so sorry about that. This is the second time this has happened.” She shook her head then walked away, off to help another customer.

“How many times have you been in here?” Harcourt asked him, scrunching her nose. She walked to one of the display cases, and Adrian was quick to follow.

“This is the fourth. Believe it or not, Chris, Eagly, and Economos were no help.” Adrian sighed.

“Wait a minute, you brought Eagly here?” She asked, her voice laced with concern.

“Duh, he’s my second best friend.” He shrugged.

The two of them walked around the store. To Adrian it was starting to seem like every ring looked exactly the same.

Harcourt did at least offer some advice though. She told him to pick a ring that you would like seeing on your finger every day, probably not something too flashy.

Adrian felt defeated leaving the store that day. Maybe this was the universe giving him a sign that he shouldn’t propose. Maybe you didn’t want to marry him. Maybe you’d get tired of him.

He could feel the anxiety start to bubble up, and decided to go straight to Chris’ house. He told Chris about his nerves, and asked if he wanted to join him in their diy shooting range.

Adrian had fun shooting at the different appliances, but there was still a voice in the back of his head bugging him.

Reader’s Pov

When he went home that night, you could tell something was off.

“Hey babe,” you kissed him. “How was your day?”

He put on a smile and replied, “It was great, I went shooting with Chris, hung out with Harcourt a little bit. So, that was fun.”

You could tell he wasn’t happy. You’d become used to seeing Adrian’s bright grin, so you could tell, this one was fake.

You sat down next to him on the couch, and reached for his arm. You pulled him so that he was laying down, his head in your lap. You ran a hand through his hair, softly massaging his scalp.

“Everything okay?” You asked him.

He sighed. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” You looked into his eyes.

You can tell Adrian is deep in thought, keeping silent, which you’ve learned is a rarity.

“Would you ever wanna get married?” He asks, looking up at you.

“What?” You ask him, surprised.

He moves so that he’s sitting up, shoulder to shoulder with you.

“Would you wanna get married? To me?” He clarifies.

“Are you proposing right now?”

Adrian turns away from you, his eyes focused ahead. “No, not right now, I’m just wondering. You already have my last name, but we’re still just dating. Have you ever thought about taking that next step?”

Adrian has a nervous energy as he asks this, which again, is a rarity. Your boyfriend was a man who was known for killing criminals. He helped stop an alien invasion. And now he was nervous to ask you about the prospect of marriage?

You cup his cheeks in your hands, turning him to face you again. “Adrian, I would love to marry you if you wanted to get married. If you don’t, I’m perfectly content with things just staying the way they are. All that matters to me is that we’re together. I love you.” You kiss his nose.

He beams, his eyes brightening again. He nods his head. “I love you too.”

Adrian’s Pov

Adrian knew, he had to propose to you. He was going to find you a ring if it was the last thing he did.

The next, and final person on his list was Adebayo. Adrian hadn’t spent too much time with her, but she was close to you. Hopefully she would have some better insight than everyone else.

“Why was I last? You do know I’m the only one on the team that’s actually married, right?” She asked him as they walked into the shop.

“Hello Adrian.” Carol greeted him. “Maybe today will be your lucky day.”

Adrian felt a twinge of guilt and shame. He’d come in several times now, and every time he’s left with nothing.

Adebayo could tell he seemed a little down, not his usual upbeat self.

“Hey,” she nudged his arm. “We’re going to find a ring today.”

They walked through the store looking at all the rings in the display cases, and once again, Adrian felt the disappointment build up inside of him.

“I’m never going to find a ring for Y/n.” He sighed, leaning against the wall.

Adebayo gave Adrian a sympathetic smile. “Y/n really love you, you know? They’re fucking crazy about you! I’m sure they don’t need a ring to be happy with you.”

Adrian gave her a small smile. Maybe he didn’t need to buy you a ring. Maybe you would be happy just keeping things the way they were.

“Oh! You’re still here!” Carol said, coming in from a back room. “We just got some new rings in, would you like to see them?” She offered.

Adrian wasn’t sure he’d find the one for you, but shrugged. “Sure.”

Carol took the rings out of the box, and laid them on the counter. As far as Adrian could see they all resembled the ones in the cases he’d been looking at for the last two weeks. He was just about ready to give up, when a ring caught his eye.

“Can I see that one?” He asked, pointing to it.

Carol took the ring, and handed it to Adrian. The band was silver, so light it almost looked white. In the middle of it sat a small diamond. The color looked almost exactly like the teal on his suit.

The diamond caught the light, and shone brightly when positioned certain ways.

“It’s beautiful Adrian.” Adebayo said over his shoulder.

Adrian was grinning now, just imagining this ring on your hand. Thinking about you being his forever.

“This is the one.” He said quietly.

He bought the ring, and drove back to your house, unable to keep the grin off his face.

“Hey babe.” You greeted him as he came in.

You were in the kitchen, making dinner. You had music playing from the living room, loud enough so you could hear it.

He watched you cook, in your shared space, and suddenly he could feel the weight of the box in his pocket. It took all of his willpower to not pull it out and drop to one knee right now.

He walked up behind you, and wrapped his arms around your waist. He buried his face in the back of your neck.

“God, I love you.” He sighed out.

[chaseadrian]

Hi bestie can u write something Adrian Chase that is just Adrian = being obsessed w reader ❤️ sweet and fluffy also congrats on 500!! Ur writing is amazing and I will be harassing you online but in a good way ❤️

aaaah thank u sm!!! literally harass me whenever idgaf also this turned out a little more angsty but it’s still fluffy jkhgfjd i hope u like

join the celebration! 

Giving No Reason 

rating: general word count: 1.1k summary: adrian is head over heels, you quite honestly don’t know why.

You were used to Adrian’s flattery. He was pretty quick to compliment everyone, whether they deserved it or not. He’d misread several heated debates with Economos as just two pals having a bit of banter, and Harcourt’s cutting glares were always met with Adrian telling everyone how badass she was. Any anger directed at him always just rolled off his back and into the next bout of whatever was on his mind. Nobody could stay mad at Adrian for long, not truly. 

Sure, they could comment all day about him being a ‘psychopath’ or ‘incompetent,’ but nobody seriously believed it. He’d never fucked up a job, had never betrayed any of them, never really gave any reason to be disliked except that he was inept when it came to the common social cues the rest of the team abided by. 

So no doubt that meant they had to roll their eyes and tell him to shut the fuck up every time he brought you up in team meetings. Or, every time the team went out drinking. Or to eat. Or in the van on the way to missions. 

Yeah, okay, basically he couldn’t shut the fuck up when it came to how much he admired you. 

Not that you minded. With a job like this one, there couldn’t be any fuck ups or hesitations or kinks in the plan, but that didn’t stop you from feeling like an imposter amongst the team. You felt like you were just biding your time until they figured out that actually, you were an incompetent hack that had been hanging on by a thread all this time. Even with Adrian, although his incessant adoration was a good fluff for your ego, you couldn’t help but think that the facade would break one day and he’d realize you weren’t a good agent or partner or, well, person. 

One rare day off the two of you were lying in his bed, Adrian playing with your fingers and you zoning out. A day off meant relaxation but it also meant a pause. A punctuation that allowed this frustration and fear to cloud your thoughts, to fester and grow. When you weren’t doing the job, you were afraid that you’d no longer be able to next time.

“You’re so beautiful, but your eyes have that glazed over look. Are you contemplating? I told you not to do that, there are things in my brain that are covered in cobwebs and I like it that way.” He brought your hand to his lips and pressed kisses to each of your fingers, moving up your arm until he reached your shoulder, your neck, your jaw. He paused in front of your lips, looking at you for the go ahead—which you gave with a nod—before he dipped his head and kissed you. His lips were soft, a touch that was more caress than kiss. 

Adrian stopped, leaving space between your mouths as he spoke, “So pretty. So pretty and you’re all mine. I can’t believe it.” He kissed you again, pushing you down into the pillow so it was enveloping your faces, a valley of cushion and comfort. 

He knew when you were retreating into your mind that the best thing to do was distract you. Verbalizing the thoughts would make them real, would make them something you had to deal with. You weren’t necessarily ready for that. So his obsession and love and flattery would put the thoughts to bed for the time being. 

No, it wasn’t the healthiest of mindsets, but it was all you could muster at this current frame of mind and stage of your life. Wasn’t like Amanda Waller cared enough to hire therapists to deal with the mental fallout of what she made her agents do. So Adrian’s lips and words would have to do the trick for now. 

When he broke away for the second time, giving you a moment to breathe, you coiled your arms around his neck and matched his gaze. Those green eyes shone when they looked at you, a lush sage calling you everything you’ve ever wanted to hear, drawing you home. 

“Adrian, why do you love me?” 

He was taken aback by the question, brows furrowing and a frown planted on his lips. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“A lot of reasons, actually.” 

He flopped down next to you, breaking out of your grasp and turning on his side to face you, one hand draped over your waist and the other tucked under his cheek, “I don’t want to hear them.” 

His hand flexed open and closed against your skin, kneading your side. It felt like he was checking that you were real, making sure this conversation wasn’t a way for you to slip from his grasp. 

“Okay.” You tucked both hands under the pillow, staring at him. 

“Fuck, you’re better than anyone I’ve ever seen. Even Chris. And it’s not just because you’re smoking hot and like fucking me, I already thought all this before I’d ever seen you naked.” 

You laughed, and he scooted closer to you. 

“I just know that whatever you do, it’s kickass. It doesn’t matter if you’re on a mission, or talking to our coffee person, or making eggs. You’re just as good at shooting someone as you are making someone smile. I can’t do that. Shooting people? Yes. But the other stuff? I’m only okay. You’re great in basically every way. Except that you don’t think you’re great.” 

Adrian scooted even closer to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you in by the waist so your bodies were flush. He combed his fingers through your hair, humming a tune to himself  as you nestled into his chest. 

“Thank you.” You muttered against his bare skin, pressing your lips between his pecs a few times. 

He laughed, “I don’t know what for. You did all the cool stuff, I’m just telling you about it. If this was the middle ages, I’d be your bard. You do the badass stuff, and I get drunk singing about it in taverns. And I also do badass stuff sometimes.” 

You shifted away from him, looking up to see the huge smile on his face. 

“Okay, bard. Sing me a song.” 

Without a word, Adrian cleared his throat and started fumbling his way through a tune about you. 

You lay there laughing, your mind cleared from the fog. All that was left was Adrian’s struggling voice, and the solid certainty that this man would go to the ends of the earth for you. 

A bard he was not. A good boyfriend though?

No contest.