#peacermaker hbo

[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.”

[apocalypticwafflekitten]

Soft Hands

Adrian Chase x afab!Reader 🧜‍♂️

A/N: Hi! Okay! So this was going to be posted for my birthday (March 15th) but Nope. I accidentally deleted the draft and had to entirely rewrite and finish the fic! But! Now it’s rewritten and done and all is good with the world! But basically, I watched Peacemaker, fell in love with this man, and had to write a fic!

Also! Shoutout to @justalittletomato for beta-ing this story for me!

Original Imagine/Summary Thingy: That good ole “patching up your s/o’s wounds” trope and then it got away from me.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS, explicit sexual content, oral sex (fem receiving), switch!Adrian, switch!reader, orgasm denial, mention of boobs, the teeniest, tiniest bit of dry humping, unprotected piv sex (dont be sick, wrap that dick), feels, these two are goofballs, Adrian gets pretty possessive there near the end. And finally, a lil panty stealing. (Oh and an obscene use of italics)

Also! This is an xreader story, but I’ve given them some powers and their code name. They’re called Harpy because they can ✨magically✨ grow wings from markings on their back, and talons on their hands and feet.

Word Count: 5.5k (whoops)

Soft light warmed your room as you lay in bed, typing up a report for the team’s last mission. It was a success all and all, even if they came back with a few cuts and bruises here and there.

You took a deep breath, prying yourself away from your computer to look outside your window. It was a calm night. A soft breeze pushed tree limbs to and fro. You heard an eagle screech in the distance and smiled, wondering if it was Eagly.

You were brought from your wondering by a knock at your window pane.

Refocusing on your window, you saw Vigilante's familiar black and teal suit, leading up to his red visor that was looking directly at you.

You set your laptop aside, stepping from your bed to walk across your soft, carpeted floor. You reach behind the string of lights framing your window in a gentle, yellow halo to unlatch and slide open the window.

“V? What are you doing here?”

“Hiya Harpy. I uh—I’ve got this cut on my back and I was wondering - well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to of course, it’s kinda gnarly, but it hurts pretty bad and I was wondering if maybe you’d help me patch it up? Your house was the closest I could get to.”

It was a bold faced lie and he knew it. Your house was entirely out of his way, but he always wanted to see you and now he had an excuse.

Of course! Come around to my front door and I’ll let you in!” You hurriedly responded, and Adrian nodded, waving goodbye before he left the view of your window.

You rushed to your door to let your injured teammate in. He stumbled into your entryway, leaning on the wall to keep himself up. His other hand was pressed tightly just under his chest.

You rushed forward and caught his shoulders, doing your best to keep him upright. “Adrian? I thought you said you only had the cut on your back. Are you alright?”

He reached up with the hand from his abdomen to remove his mask, revealing a bloody gash just under his pectorals. “Well, uh, yeah I’m okay. I have a few other wounds but the one on my back is the only one I need help with. I can get the others later.”

You shook your head and frowned when you caught sight of his bloody suit and glove, “Oh no. I’m not just going to patch up one of your wounds and send you on your merry way when there are others that need tended to. Come on in and I’ll patch you up.”

He nodded without another word, hanging his mask on your coat rack. He trembled as he tried to walk on his own. Nearly all his weight was leaned on the wall, and it didn’t look like he was making much progress on his own.

Gently, you took his arm, bringing it to rest around your shoulders,“Here, let me help you.” You offered.

He nodded once again, and immediately leaned almost all of his weight on your shoulders. You huffed a laugh in response, looking up to his pained face.

“Not doin’ so well there huh?”

He pouted, shaking his head ‘no’ as you led him to your living room. Gosh he was so cute sometimes. Even when he was injured and bleeding in your entryway.

He landed on your sofa with a heavy plop, sinking slightly into the squishy cushions and nearly bonking his knees on your coffee table.

“Alrighty. I’m going to go grab my first aid kit and a damp rag. Don't pass out on me before I get back okay?”

“Mkay. I’ll be right here.”He smiled up at you. He was a little loopy, but he was there for the most part.

He was in fact not right there when you got back. The sofa had been abandoned for the mirror you kept in your entryway. He was leaning against the wall again, trying to see the clasps of his armor at an odd angle.

“Adrian?”

He startles, then flushes when he realizes you're watching him with a questioning look.

He looks dejected as he avoids your gaze, mumbling to the floor, “I can’t get the back clasps. It hurts too much.”

Your face softens into an understanding smile.

“Alrighty then. Come back to the sofa with me, and I’ll help you get your armor off okay?” You say, wrapping his arm around you once again.

He nods and leans on you again, still pouting the whole way back to the living room.

When he plops on the sofa again, you grab the med kit and set it on the coffee table before turning to help with his armor.

Sitting beside him now, you can see the true extent of the wound. It sliced through his suit, leaving a red gash that trailed a little under the edge of his armor. There was dried blood all around the wound and on his suit that needed to be cleaned off, but at least the bleeding had stopped.

You found the back clasps pretty easily and unclasped them, letting the large plate fall from his shoulders. You set it aside on your coffee table before beginning on his shoulder plates.

When it came to his gauntlets he insisted you didn’t need to take them off for him. He insisted he could do it himself, and pulled his hands away from you, beginning to remove them on his own.

You stopped him. Taking one of his hands in yours, you hold it tight as you speak, “I know you’re capable of taking them off yourself. That’s not the point. You’re injured. You’re hurting. Let me take care of you.” You persisted, and began to work on his gauntlets once more.

Once they were off you held his bare hands in yours and gave them a little reassuring squeeze, a warm smile lighting up your face when you meet his eyes. For a second you think his gaze might have flickered down to your lips, but you brush it off as a momentary daydream and let go of his hands.

“Alrighty. We just need to get your undershirt off. Does it hurt too much to lift your arms?”

He tries. He winces a little. But he promises you that it’s okay for the few seconds needed.

You reach for the hem of his shirt, lifting it to reveal soft, warm skin. Every inch of skin revealed tempts you to stare—to admire—but instead you focus on the cut, and steadying your hands to avoid irritating it.

You don’t miss the way his breath hitches when your hands just barely brush against his chest. You try not to pay it any mind though. Your hands are probably cold and caught him off guard. But when you smooth your hands over his back to free his shirt from the dried, crusted blood at the edges of the gash, he quietly, ever so softly, whines.

“I’m sorry if it hurts.” You apologize in a whisper.

“No, no. It’s-its fine.” He responds, his voice a bit wavy.

You’re silent for a few seconds as you gather as much of his shirt into your hands as you can.

“Lift.” You softly request. He lifts his arms up, letting you pull his shirt over his head. You fold it and place it on the coffee table with the rest of his armor.

When you turn back to him, you can’t help but stare for a moment. His lean muscles just show through from under his soft skin. His collarbones frame his broad shoulders and lead the eyes up his long, slender neck. Despite all the cuts and little bruises littered all over him, he’s still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

You meet his eyes, and it takes you too long to realize he’s caught you staring. Warmth rushes your face and floods your cheeks, and you finally turn to your med kit, too embarrassed to keep looking at him. Unfortunately though, that means you miss the way he flushed under your attention as well.

You pull out some bandages, gauze, and antiseptic solution, but you start with the damp rag, bringing it up to his back so you can start washing the dried blood away from the cut.

He jumps at the rag’s cool touch, but settles a bit more when he gets used to the feeling of your hands working softly against his back. Still, every once in a while he’d shift, seeming kinda fidgety and restless, so you decide to strike up a conversation to help.

“So, how’d the big bad Vigilante get these new battle scars hm?”

He laughs just a bit before answering, “Oh you know, killing bad guys. Saving the city. As you do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! We had this really cool knife fight, and I killed them all, but, well, they got me too.”

“So I see.” You set the rag aside so you could reach for the antiseptic solution and a few cotton pads.

You warned him of the impending sting, and when he hissed because of it you reached forward and found his hand, letting him squeeze your own hand as hard as he needed.

“You’re okay. I know. I know, I know. It hurts, but it’ll be over soon, I promise.” You coo over his shoulder.

Just seconds later, you’re applying bandages that’ll keep the cut closed, and wrapping him in a couple layers of gauze. Before you have time to question it, or even think about it, you place a small kiss on his shoulder near the wound as you smooth out the gauze.

“Alrighty. One cut down. One more to go. Can you turn to face me?”

You completely missed the tiny moment where he tensed before he turned to face you. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, and a part of him thought he dreamed it. But your lips felt too soft and real and his shoulder was still tingling. Either way you just keep going, letting the moment pass unnoticed and, seemingly, unnoted. He didn’t know what to think.

You grabbed the rag again, but when you brought it up to his skin, he flinched away.

Looking up to him, you placed the palm of your hand against his chest, just above the shallow red wound. You could hear his heart beating fast. His breaths were quick and deep and he seemed a little restless.

“You’ll be alright,” your tone is soft, gentle to reassure him, “You don’t have to be afraid. You’re safe here.”

He wasn’t afraid, not that he would ever say anyway. You were just so close, touching his bare chest as if he were fragile. Never mind that he gets worse beatings than this more often than not. Never mind that you know that. You were just so gentle. No one had ever treated him like that before. And the soft way you talked to him - as if he would cower away from anything louder than a whisper - melted his heart right into your hands.

He’d never wanted to kiss anyone so much.

“You know, you look really pretty when you’re concentrating on something”, he quietly confessed, “And I think it’s really cool how you can spontaneously grow wings out of your back. Kinda jelly sometimes. I mean, can you imagine how cool it’d be if I could blow bad guys’ brains out from the sky? Or like, flyby beheadings?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. His ideas were concerning at least, but it was such an Adrian thing to think. How best to kill someone? Flyby beheadings. Of course.

You huffed an amused laugh and reached once more for the antiseptic solution. “Thank you…I think.”

You heard him laugh above you as well, and it put a smile on your face a mile wide. You dab some antiseptic on a cotton cloth and bring it to his skin.

“It’s gonna sting again. I’m sorry.” You warn, just beginning to disinfect the wound.

He hisses again, but this time his hand jolts down, grasping the meat of your thigh like it’d save his life.

“I know. You’re doing so good, baby. Just a couple more seconds.” The endearment falls from your lips and you don’t even think about it because his hand is suffocating your thigh and holy fuck he’s strong. “You’re good. Almost done. We’re almost done.”

He whimpers once more, slowly releasing your thigh as the stinging faded and you started to bandage his front.

You began wrapping his last cut in gauze, but you hardly think about it. Your thigh is still warm—tingling because of Adrian’s strong grip. You tried to keep focused on the bandaging. Shit, did you try. But the ghost of his hand was still wrapped around your thigh, but this time it was inching up, and up, and up….

“You know, I think it’s pretty cool how dedicated you are to saving Evergreen. Even if it’s in a more unconventional way.” You admit, keeping your eyes on the wrapping, trying to keep your mind off of your tingling thigh.

“Really?” The disbelieving tone in his voice drew your eyes to his.

“Yeah,” you reassure, “Plus, you look really pretty when you’re fighting people.”

You smile, watching as he realizes how you’ve complimented him the same way he did earlier, but then the compliment actually sinks in, and you watch his eyes widen.

He’s pinned you to your seat on the sofa with his gaze, and you can’t look away.

“You really think that? You think I’m pretty?”

You don’t know how to respond. You’re so focused on his eyes, his face, his lips.

Your lips part for a moment as you try to think of something to say without spilling your heart out into his lap. All you can manage is a small nod, and a mumble. “Mm-hm.”

Again, you think for just a split second that his eyes look down to your lips. He adjusts his seat again, seeming fidgety and nervous all over again.

“Can I tell you something?” He suddenly blurts, a shake in his voice.

“Yeah.” You nod, captivated, near spellbound by his eyes.

“Your house wasn’t really the closest one I could get to. I just needed help and I wanted to see you so I came here instead of going to, like, Chris’s which would have been closer. In fact your house was pretty far out of the way, but I reaaallllyyyy wanted to see you and now I’m on your couch and I-I—fuck.” He stops himself. Biting at his lower lip to shut himself up.

“You…what?” You immediately question.

He looks at you, his eyes darting all over your face over and over again, looking for some answer that he couldn't just ask for.

Before you realize it, he surges forward, urgently slamming his lips into yours; wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

He kissed you like fire, blazing against your lips with need so strong you could feel it cascading from him.

Or maybe it was your own need you felt. You kissed him just as hot, fervent as your hands found his jaw, holding him against your lips.

He whimpered, letting his own bare hands find your waist, tugging your shirt out of your pants so he could let his hands wander beneath to touch your skin. It’s warm and soft and fuck it’s better than he dreamed.

Your hands wander from his jaw, trailing down his neck to rub his shoulders before landing squarely on his warm, smooth chest.

Even when he slows down, his kisses feel like a fever. Even when he pulls away to rest his forehead on yours, you still feel the rush from his lips.

“God-fuck I want you.” He begs into your lips.

“I know, baby. I know. I want you too.” You coo, shifting to straddle his lap.

“Oh fuck—But-But not—not as a one time thing. I want—I-I need you to be my girl. Please please please be my girl,”

Your name floods from his lips, followed by more pleas as his lips chase yours.

You’re nodding like your life depends on it before diving in for another searing kiss.

“Of course I’ll be your girl Adrian. Fuck I’ve wanted to be your girl for so long.”

He keens when he hears your response, tightening his grip on your waist. His hips jut into the air, grinding himself against the new heat pooling in your core.

“Oh fuck, Adrian that feels so good.” You whine, grinding yourself on the silhouette of his hardening cock.

His mouth falls open and he groans, pressing his hips even harder into yours, seeking more blessed friction.

You dive down, littering his neck in sloppy, open mouthed kisses, nipping his skin here and there before biting down on the nape of his neck.

“Holy shit—fuck—I want you so fuckin bad. Can-can I please? Do you want me?”

It all comes tumbling out of his mouth and you’re nodding before he even finishes speaking.

“Yes baby. I want you so, so bad. Please.”

You reach down for his belt, intent on unbuckling it, but before you can, Adrian grabs your hands to stop you.

“Nu-uh. Wanna taste you first. Need to taste you.” He begs, his voice cracking in desperation.

Heat flooded your core, melting you right into his lap. You nodded, and he let go of a heaving sigh before lifting you off his lap and setting you beside him on the couch.

He wasted no time in kneeling between your legs, ripping open your belt and all but tearing your jeans and panties off of you. He threw them behind him somewhere, he didn’t care where, before pushing your knees open so he could see your pussy.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. The way he sucked in a breath at the sight of your pussy sent chills down your back.

And the sight of your slick peeking out from your folds made his cock throb. “Fuck you’re gorgeous. This pussy all wet for me?”

You nod and whimper, pushing your hips closer to him in a silent request; pleading eyes boring holes into his skull. He notices, smirking at you before delving down to place kisses along your inner thigh, just inches from where you need him most.

“I need you to use your words babe. You want my tongue in your pussy?”

“Yes, yes—fuck—Adrian I want your tongue!” You beg, your aching core screaming for some sort of relief.

There’s a cocky glint in his eye as he dips down and licks a broad swathe over your slit.

“Holy FUCK! Adrian!” Shocks jolted through your body. You felt your nerves sparking to life. And the velvety warmth of his tongue was unrelenting, sending shockwaves through your body every time it rounded your clit.

Your eyes slammed shut, pleasure overwhelming your senses as you bucked into his mouth, whining with every small movement he made. His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs, nails digging into your skin.

His tongue dipped down, prodding at your entrance, and when you cried out for him, he moaned into your cunt before thrusting his tongue into you.

You cried, your hand darting out, grasping at his hair, urging him deeper into your begging cunt.

“Shit Adrian, you-you’re so good. So so good.” The praise falls from your lips in moans, tumbling down your body to his eager, listening ears.

You notice a shift in his demeanor. His cocky edge falls with every passing second and he starts to moan with every thrust of his tongue.

And something devilish sparks inside of you.

“You look so good down there, so handsome baby.”

Adrian whines, pulling his tongue from you for just a moment to speak, “I like it when you call me that.”

“Call you what? Baby?” You ask, as a smirk just begins to twist your face.

He keens and nods his head before dipping back down, only to be stopped when you grab a fistful of his hair and tug, forcing him to look up at you. His whine is quite the reward when his bright, lusty eyes meet yours

“Mmmmmm. Okay then baby, let’s see how good you can make me feel.”

His eyes blow wide, and he nods frantically before diving back to devour your hot cunt, licking up your slit, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your clit, and whining into your hips as they rock into his face.

You’re lost in the feeling. His soft, warm tongue coaxes you closer and closer to your high, but just as you close your eyes, you notice a small movement between your legs.

He tries to be sneaky, or maybe he’s hesitant. Either way, through half-lidded eyes you catch him inching his hand closer and closer to his crotch until he’s palming his cock through his pants. His moans grow loud and heavy and you can feel his shuddering, deep breaths as he tries desperately to keep from cummming right then and there.

You smirk, wondering how close he’s gotten himself. He seems absolutely lost in your cunt, and you can’t help but chuckle, “How’s my baby huh? All drunk off my pussy?”

He moans and nods into your cunt without even looking at you, thrusting his tongue back into you and desperately fucking you as hard as he can.

You gasp, digging your nails into his scalp and tugging his hair as a deep pressure begins to build in your core. Your voice is breathy and shallow when you speak, “Look at you. Can’t-can’t even wait to fuck me. You’re that needy huh? Gotta palm that poor cock of yours?”

He whines, pressing his face as far as he fucking can into your cunt, lapping deep, reaching for that spongey spot that shatters the world.

You’re so, so close. Your cunt aches and begs for release. The pressure builds and builds and builds and-

Then there’s a rush of cold air on your cunt, and the sound of Adrian gasping for breath beneath you. Your eyes snap open, and you all but scramble to sit up.

He’s grasping your thigh so tight you think he doesn’t realize it, and his body is trembling against your legs.

“Wha-what? Why? I-I was so…I was-“ you whimper, unable to finish your sentence from the sheer shock of the last few seconds.

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry, but if I don’t stop right now I’m gonna cream my pants before I even get to fuck you.”

Something twists in your gut and you grab him by the neck, pulling him up to your lips, “Then get up here and fuck me baby.”

Now he scrambles, flailing to get up on the couch. You reach for his belt, finally getting to unbuckle it and toss it across the room. Adrian grabs the hem of your shirt, beginning to pull it off.

“Can I?” His eyes are wide and pleading; beautiful in cascading lamp light.

You nod, lifting your arms so he can rip your shirt over your head and throw it on the growing pile of clothes on your floor.

His eyes roam your chest and you watch the way they shift, seeking yet another answer he can’t simply ask for; the words trapped in his throat. His hand twitches beside him, barely lifting towards you. You give a knowing smile and grab his hand, bringing it up to your breasts. His hands are greedy, grabbing at as much pillowy flesh they can and you moan as pleasure washes through your body. He gives an experimental twist of your nipples, and your sharp, weak gasp is his reward.

“Fuck babe, you have the prettiest tits in the world. The best. I mean, I’d kill a man over these tits.”

You can’t help but laugh through a moan, “Really? They’re that pretty huh?”

Your tease was met with a deadpan, serious response, “Yeah. They’re a national fuckin treasure.”

You shake your head, amused by his silly response, “Well then, thank you. I’ll make sure they’re well taken care of.”

He giggles, leaning down to kiss you again. He’s gentle this time, sweet in the way his lips press to yours, already smiling.

You kiss him back, taking advantage of this tender moment to slip your hands under the waistband of his pants. He hums into your mouth, happy to feel your hands on his body. You reach back and give his butt a cheeky squeeze before finally running your hands along his hips, reaching forward to palm his hard cock.

You pull away as he groans, bringing your forehead to meet his, “Adrian, I don’t give a shit what Chris says, you are not a thimble. Holy fuck.”

He chuckles, grinning down at you and rocking his hips into your hand, “You like what you feel babe?”

“Mmhmm. I do.” You grin, palming him with just a little more pressure.

You blink and he’s gone. Only momentarily though. You hear the shuffling of fabric and a pained moan before he’s on you again, kissing you hard as he ruts his bare cock on your thigh. You open your legs, letting them fall away from your gleaming, wet pussy, hoping he’ll take the hint and give you what you want.

He dips his head to look down at you and how his cock drags against your skin. His breath shudders when he sees your exposed pussy, and he moves so that his cock rubs along your folds, teasing your clit and your fluttering, begging hole.

“Fuck you’re so wet.” He all but sobs into your ear. His thrusts get faster and harder, and that sweet pressure begins to build in your core once more.

He ruts faster and faster until he flinches and groans quietly, reaching for the bangaging on his abdomen. You soften for a second, stopping him with a hand to his chest, “Let me ride you. I don’t want you to hurt.”

“No,” he grits out, “wanna fuck you. I can rebandage the cuts later.”

“I don’t—“ He doesn’t give you a chance to respond. He slams himself into you, and you cry out, any possible response dying on your tongue in favor of Adrian’s name.

He pulls out slowly, savoring the feel of you, but he can’t help himself. He slams back into you with a cry of his own.

“Fuck you feel so good. So fuh-fucking good,” he whines, “Never thought I’d get this with you. N-Never—but fuck I’ve wanted it for so long. So so fucking long. Used to touch myself to the thought of you. Still do, b-but now I’m here and-“

You kiss his neck right under his jaw and trail kisses down to the crook of his neck. You moan into his skin at the thought of him touching himself to you. His whimpers fall on your ears as he starts to thrust his hips, pulling in and out of you in a slow, sensual rhythm.

“I’ve thought about you too. Wanted to kiss you since I met you, and I’ve been falling for you since.” You reach your hands up to cradle his face, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Adrian grabs your hips, angling them up so he could pound into you faster. Moans and whines fell from your lips as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you in time with his thrusts. Between his grunting, Adrian poured praises all over you.

“God—fuck—this hot cunt’s mine. It’s all mine right? No one else will ever get close to this perfect pussy huh?”

“Uh-uh,” you mumble, voice trembling along with his thrusts, “‘S all yours Adrian.”

“You’re my girl right? Tell me-Tell me you’re my girl. I gotta hear it.”

“‘M yours Adrian. Your girl.”

“Fuck that’s so hot! I—fuh—I love hearing you say that. Holy-“

“‘M all yours. ‘M your girl Adrian. Don’t want anyone else.” You whimper, only able to think of him and how good his cock feels buried in you. You feel that sweet pressure return—subtle, but building ever so quietly.

“Babe, if you keep sayin’ that I’m gonna lose it. I-shit, it’s too much. Your hot, perfect cunt around me, and then you telling me you’re my girl? It’s better than I dreamed and it’s too fucking much.”

“Adrian,” You whine, feeling the pressure build and build between your legs, “‘M close, p-please don’t stop—don’t fucking stop!”

His cock pounds against something inside you, the feeling so good it’s almost unbearable. You vaguely hear him say he wouldn’t dream of stopping, but it’s all drowned out as everything builds, the smallest sensation sending shockwaves through you.

“Adrian! Adrian I-“ You begin, only to fizzle out with a high whine.

“That’s it, cum for me babe. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Everything falls into place and shatters at once. Your body feels fragmented as you shudder and cry Adrian’s name at the top of your lungs. It’s so much. Too much and not enough and it’s everything. Your hands find themselves fisting handfuls of his hair, tugging and pulling. White flashes behind your eyes as new, half-numb peaks of pleasure beat through you.

“Holy fuckin shit!” Adrian moans, thrusting into you faster as he seeks his own high, “Your cunt’s so tight, I—I’m, fuck, I’m gonna—where? Where can I-?”

“Inside baby. I'm on the pill.” You answer, voice breathy, panting your response.

“Fuck! You’re the fucking best! I could-I could just-“ He cuts off, his entire body trembling as he goes rigid, and a second later you feel warmth filling you, spilling until you’re full and beyond then. Adrian cries your name and it dissolves into mindless whimpering with one last, heavy thrust.

He trembles above you for a moment, deep breaths holding you in this moment. You smile up at him and cradle his head in your hands, reaching up to press a kiss to his quivering lips. He kisses back, lazy and tired, but you feel him smile into it before he collapses on top of you.

You laugh as he all but crushes your ribs, and your hands start to gently card through his hair, “Are you okay? Do the cuts hurt?”

“Are you kidding? I’m fuckin amazing babe. Like, holy fuck. I came here hoping you’d patch up my sick battle wounds—which don’t hurt too bad, I’ll be good after a nap—and I’m ending the night with my cock buried between your legs and my cum dripping out of you. I’ve never been fucking better!”

His enthusiastic answer made you chuckle, a warm smile spreading on your face, “I’m happy to hear it.”

Adrian hums, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your chest. You lay like this for a few minutes, playing with his hair, and enjoying his warmth on top of you and in you. But when his breathing slows, and he goes a little limp, you gently shake him, whispering in his ear.

“Hey sleepyhead. Don’t fall asleep on me yet. I’ve gotta look you over again, and then we can go to bed okay?”

He groaned, lifting himself to look at you with the cutest grumpy pout you’d ever seen.

“Don’t wanna. You’re warm and comfy and I like being in you.”

“Hmm. How about this: you let me look you over, and when we get to bed, you can spend all night with your big cock buried in me? That sound good?” You bargained.

He perked up, smiling and nodding his head.

It didn’t take long for you to look him over. Neither of the cuts had reopened, and the bandaging didn’t need to be replaced, so you gave him the green light and he all but bounded for your bedroom.

“I’ll be in in just a second. Gotta wash my face and all that.” You call to him from down the hall.

“Alrighty Aphrodite!” He calls back from your room.

While you’re in the bathroom, Adrian dawns a devious smirk, and quickly tiptoes past the bathroom door, back into the living room. He finds what he’s looking for: the pile of clothes left behind in your frenzy.

He rummages a little, tossing clothes aside until he finds your panties. He plucks them right out of the pile, still soaked with your slick from before. He takes a quick sniff, relishing your smell with a small moan, then stuffs them in his pant pockets, hoping you won’t notice their absence in the morning.

With that done, Adrian sneaks back into your room with just enough time to get situated in your bed before you get to your room.

There’s something energetic in the air—something almost panicky. And when you look at Adrian, his face breaks out into a gigantic smile.

“What?“ You quiz him with a quirked brow.

“Oh, nothing.” He promises, trying his best to look innocent despite the devilish grin on his face.

“Mhmm,” you hum as you climb into bed beside him, not quite convinced, “Sure. Nothing. Whatever you say baby.”

Tags! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@fanficsforheartandsoul

[darvetica]

I'd love a little one-shot of Adrian introducing his girlfriend to the team.

I think this could be a disaster with Chris not believing that little Vigilante has a girlfriend.

By the way, I like your blogs <3

Adrian introduces you as his girlfriend to the team:

Ahh that can be something very nice and go well or a complete disaster. In the same way I think Chris would question several times if you are his real girlfriend or not.

By the way thank you very much for being the first person to ask me to write something, I really appreciate it <3

Summary: You and Adrian have been dating for almost a year and he has kept your identity a secret even from his teammates. He is very nervous but excited because for the first time he has a real girlfriend and she is not another of his made-up girlfriends.

Lenght:1,1k

You and Adrian have been secretly dating for almost a month, the team didn't suspect anything and that was exactly what you wanted.

At first it was just sex at work without any kind of commitment but without knowing how you started to stay at Adrian's house some nights or he would come to yours and you would spend the evening cuddled up on the couch watching some series, every Wednesday you would watch Fargo at the request of the guy with the glasses, even some days after a hard night patrolling the streets of Evergreen, Adrian would sneak in through your window to sleep with you. Some nights he would wake you up but you didn't mind, in fact you usually made it a point to leave the window open enough for him to get through.

After so long you decided to name your relationship and make it public. So you crossed the door frame of the 11th street boys' base without any fear of being discovered, while holding hands, something that did not go unnoticed by the attentive gaze of the always direct Emilia, but this time she decided not to say anything since she saw that Adrian wanted to say something.

-Emm... Hi guys I have something to tell you- he said with a radiant smile on his face as he was finally able to tell her that you were his girlfriend, his girl, his woman. Adrian Chase the always so called loser and geek finally had a partner and his partner was none other than you, the girl that as soon as he saw her he was amazed by your sincere and beautiful smile.

The group turned their gaze towards you, Emilia had a small smile on her face (she already knew it for a long time because even though your relationship was very discreet, nothing escaped her blue eyes). On the other hand, Economos was looking confused at the scene while he was putting some Haribbo bears to his mouth and Adebayo was trying to take one away from him. Chris was just like Economos, confused, but he was much more lost, he didn't understand what was going on.

And it was at that moment when Adebayo gave up the idea of getting something to eat from John, he lowered his gaze to the union of your hands and understood everything instantly.

- You are a couple! - exclaimed Adebayo

- What? -He was in disbelief, "Hey Y/N if he's holding you hostage blink twice.

- Don't be stupid John, it was very obvious that they were together - spoke Emilia.

- Seriously Y/n you're the only one who doesn't mess with my beard here so if you need help just tell me and I'll send the Justice League to help you, except for Aquaman. He does very disturbing things with the fish," commented John completely serious, he was really afraid for you.

- That won't be necessary John, I'm fine. Adrian and I are dating and yes, it's my will to be with him. But I thank you for your concern - you spoke.

Suddenly Chris pulled you away from your boyfriend's side and put you behind him covering you. No one expected such a sudden action.

- Dude, what are you doing? - Adrian questioned irritated.

- Sorry Vig, John has told Y/N that if she was in danger she should blink twice and I've seen her blink at least twenty times since she entered the room.

- It's called blinking out of necessity, stupid," Emilia insulted Chris, "Seriously, leave poor Vig alone.

- I'm sorry but Vig having a girlfriend is very unrealistic and her being my best friend on top of that is very suspicious. But of course, Y/N you're my best friend after Aguili.

- Is she your best friend? I thought it was me, let's see don't get me wrong. I'm glad you like my girlfriend but I wanted to be your best friend, but don't think I'm not happy for you babe I'm proud that you're her best friend but I wanted too, but I'm not jealous, not at all- Vig was going to keep ranting until you decided to talk again.

- Hey Chris seriously, I'm fine, don't worry, we've been dating for almost a month or at least officially dating for a month.

- Officially? What have you done unofficially? - Chris questioned innocently making you blush.

- We had sex and yes, we did it in your trailer once-admitted Adrian shamelessly.

- But don't say that! - he scowled.

- Oh... I think it's one of those things you told me that even though they are true, you shouldn't tell them because they hurt or make others uncomfortable. ....

- Yes Adrian, exactly- you answered a little annoyed because you were embarrassed.

- No, no, no, no, you don't tell me and you leave just like that- Chris got annoyed and gave you a withering look- You do it at my house and you don't invite me?

- I'm sorry dude, but I don't want her to try other people and leave me because I'm bad, we all know she deserves better but don't tell her- Adrian whispered so you wouldn't hear her.

- Adrian I can hear you- you resist finding your partner's reaction tender.

- No. You can't- he carefully covered your hate with his hands- Seriously, don't tell her, I don't want to lose her.

- I'm still listening to you- you laughed louder as Adebayo joined you in your laughter and Emilia smiled slightly...

- I have an idea- Adebayo caught your attention- Let's go for a drink at Fennel Fields to celebrate that you've finally told us. Just don't think we're not going to have a girls' night out and talk about it.

- Yes, let's go over there and I won't have to make any more excuses about imaginary girlfriends who are pregnant but are going to miscarry.

- Sometimes you are very strange Vig," said Chris.

- Yeah, but I have a girlfriend and you

[berrieluv]

THIS IS SO CUTE I WANNA DIEEEE

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.”

[justalittletomato]

I FORGOT TO REBLOG THIS DAMN MASTERPIECE!!! GOOD STUFFF GOOD STUFF !!! YOU MADE ME A PUDDLE!!!

Soft Hands

Adrian Chase x afab!Reader 🧜‍♂️

A/N: Hi! Okay! So this was going to be posted for my birthday (March 15th) but Nope. I accidentally deleted the draft and had to entirely rewrite and finish the fic! But! Now it’s rewritten and done and all is good with the world! But basically, I watched Peacemaker, fell in love with this man, and had to write a fic!

Also! Shoutout to @justalittletomato for beta-ing this story for me!

Original Imagine/Summary Thingy: That good ole “patching up your s/o’s wounds” trope and then it got away from me.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS, explicit sexual content, oral sex (fem receiving), switch!Adrian, switch!reader, orgasm denial, mention of boobs, the teeniest, tiniest bit of dry humping, unprotected piv sex (dont be sick, wrap that dick), feels, these two are goofballs, Adrian gets pretty possessive there near the end. And finally, a lil panty stealing. (Oh and an obscene use of italics)

Also! This is an xreader story, but I’ve given them some powers and their code name. They’re called Harpy because they can ✨magically✨ grow wings from markings on their back, and talons on their hands and feet.

Word Count: 5.5k (whoops)

Soft light warmed your room as you lay in bed, typing up a report for the team’s last mission. It was a success all and all, even if they came back with a few cuts and bruises here and there.

You took a deep breath, prying yourself away from your computer to look outside your window. It was a calm night. A soft breeze pushed tree limbs to and fro. You heard an eagle screech in the distance and smiled, wondering if it was Eagly.

You were brought from your wondering by a knock at your window pane.

Refocusing on your window, you saw Vigilante's familiar black and teal suit, leading up to his red visor that was looking directly at you.

You set your laptop aside, stepping from your bed to walk across your soft, carpeted floor. You reach behind the string of lights framing your window in a gentle, yellow halo to unlatch and slide open the window.

“V? What are you doing here?”

“Hiya Harpy. I uh—I’ve got this cut on my back and I was wondering - well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to of course, it’s kinda gnarly, but it hurts pretty bad and I was wondering if maybe you’d help me patch it up? Your house was the closest I could get to.”

It was a bold faced lie and he knew it. Your house was entirely out of his way, but he always wanted to see you and now he had an excuse.

Of course! Come around to my front door and I’ll let you in!” You hurriedly responded, and Adrian nodded, waving goodbye before he left the view of your window.

You rushed to your door to let your injured teammate in. He stumbled into your entryway, leaning on the wall to keep himself up. His other hand was pressed tightly just under his chest.

You rushed forward and caught his shoulders, doing your best to keep him upright. “Adrian? I thought you said you only had the cut on your back. Are you alright?”

He reached up with the hand from his abdomen to remove his mask, revealing a bloody gash just under his pectorals. “Well, uh, yeah I’m okay. I have a few other wounds but the one on my back is the only one I need help with. I can get the others later.”

You shook your head and frowned when you caught sight of his bloody suit and glove, “Oh no. I’m not just going to patch up one of your wounds and send you on your merry way when there are others that need tended to. Come on in and I’ll patch you up.”

He nodded without another word, hanging his mask on your coat rack. He trembled as he tried to walk on his own. Nearly all his weight was leaned on the wall, and it didn’t look like he was making much progress on his own.

Gently, you took his arm, bringing it to rest around your shoulders,“Here, let me help you.” You offered.

He nodded once again, and immediately leaned almost all of his weight on your shoulders. You huffed a laugh in response, looking up to his pained face.

“Not doin’ so well there huh?”

He pouted, shaking his head ‘no’ as you led him to your living room. Gosh he was so cute sometimes. Even when he was injured and bleeding in your entryway.

He landed on your sofa with a heavy plop, sinking slightly into the squishy cushions and nearly bonking his knees on your coffee table.

“Alrighty. I’m going to go grab my first aid kit and a damp rag. Don't pass out on me before I get back okay?”

“Mkay. I’ll be right here.”He smiled up at you. He was a little loopy, but he was there for the most part.

He was in fact not right there when you got back. The sofa had been abandoned for the mirror you kept in your entryway. He was leaning against the wall again, trying to see the clasps of his armor at an odd angle.

“Adrian?”

He startles, then flushes when he realizes you're watching him with a questioning look.

He looks dejected as he avoids your gaze, mumbling to the floor, “I can’t get the back clasps. It hurts too much.”

Your face softens into an understanding smile.

“Alrighty then. Come back to the sofa with me, and I’ll help you get your armor off okay?” You say, wrapping his arm around you once again.

He nods and leans on you again, still pouting the whole way back to the living room.

When he plops on the sofa again, you grab the med kit and set it on the coffee table before turning to help with his armor.

Sitting beside him now, you can see the true extent of the wound. It sliced through his suit, leaving a red gash that trailed a little under the edge of his armor. There was dried blood all around the wound and on his suit that needed to be cleaned off, but at least the bleeding had stopped.

You found the back clasps pretty easily and unclasped them, letting the large plate fall from his shoulders. You set it aside on your coffee table before beginning on his shoulder plates.

When it came to his gauntlets he insisted you didn’t need to take them off for him. He insisted he could do it himself, and pulled his hands away from you, beginning to remove them on his own.

You stopped him. Taking one of his hands in yours, you hold it tight as you speak, “I know you’re capable of taking them off yourself. That’s not the point. You’re injured. You’re hurting. Let me take care of you.” You persisted, and began to work on his gauntlets once more.

Once they were off you held his bare hands in yours and gave them a little reassuring squeeze, a warm smile lighting up your face when you meet his eyes. For a second you think his gaze might have flickered down to your lips, but you brush it off as a momentary daydream and let go of his hands.

“Alrighty. We just need to get your undershirt off. Does it hurt too much to lift your arms?”

He tries. He winces a little. But he promises you that it’s okay for the few seconds needed.

You reach for the hem of his shirt, lifting it to reveal soft, warm skin. Every inch of skin revealed tempts you to stare—to admire—but instead you focus on the cut, and steadying your hands to avoid irritating it.

You don’t miss the way his breath hitches when your hands just barely brush against his chest. You try not to pay it any mind though. Your hands are probably cold and caught him off guard. But when you smooth your hands over his back to free his shirt from the dried, crusted blood at the edges of the gash, he quietly, ever so softly, whines.

“I’m sorry if it hurts.” You apologize in a whisper.

“No, no. It’s-its fine.” He responds, his voice a bit wavy.

You’re silent for a few seconds as you gather as much of his shirt into your hands as you can.

“Lift.” You softly request. He lifts his arms up, letting you pull his shirt over his head. You fold it and place it on the coffee table with the rest of his armor.

When you turn back to him, you can’t help but stare for a moment. His lean muscles just show through from under his soft skin. His collarbones frame his broad shoulders and lead the eyes up his long, slender neck. Despite all the cuts and little bruises littered all over him, he’s still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

You meet his eyes, and it takes you too long to realize he’s caught you staring. Warmth rushes your face and floods your cheeks, and you finally turn to your med kit, too embarrassed to keep looking at him. Unfortunately though, that means you miss the way he flushed under your attention as well.

You pull out some bandages, gauze, and antiseptic solution, but you start with the damp rag, bringing it up to his back so you can start washing the dried blood away from the cut.

He jumps at the rag’s cool touch, but settles a bit more when he gets used to the feeling of your hands working softly against his back. Still, every once in a while he’d shift, seeming kinda fidgety and restless, so you decide to strike up a conversation to help.

“So, how’d the big bad Vigilante get these new battle scars hm?”

He laughs just a bit before answering, “Oh you know, killing bad guys. Saving the city. As you do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! We had this really cool knife fight, and I killed them all, but, well, they got me too.”

“So I see.” You set the rag aside so you could reach for the antiseptic solution and a few cotton pads.

You warned him of the impending sting, and when he hissed because of it you reached forward and found his hand, letting him squeeze your own hand as hard as he needed.

“You’re okay. I know. I know, I know. It hurts, but it’ll be over soon, I promise.” You coo over his shoulder.

Just seconds later, you’re applying bandages that’ll keep the cut closed, and wrapping him in a couple layers of gauze. Before you have time to question it, or even think about it, you place a small kiss on his shoulder near the wound as you smooth out the gauze.

“Alrighty. One cut down. One more to go. Can you turn to face me?”

You completely missed the tiny moment where he tensed before he turned to face you. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, and a part of him thought he dreamed it. But your lips felt too soft and real and his shoulder was still tingling. Either way you just keep going, letting the moment pass unnoticed and, seemingly, unnoted. He didn’t know what to think.

You grabbed the rag again, but when you brought it up to his skin, he flinched away.

Looking up to him, you placed the palm of your hand against his chest, just above the shallow red wound. You could hear his heart beating fast. His breaths were quick and deep and he seemed a little restless.

“You’ll be alright,” your tone is soft, gentle to reassure him, “You don’t have to be afraid. You’re safe here.”

He wasn’t afraid, not that he would ever say anyway. You were just so close, touching his bare chest as if he were fragile. Never mind that he gets worse beatings than this more often than not. Never mind that you know that. You were just so gentle. No one had ever treated him like that before. And the soft way you talked to him - as if he would cower away from anything louder than a whisper - melted his heart right into your hands.

He’d never wanted to kiss anyone so much.

“You know, you look really pretty when you’re concentrating on something”, he quietly confessed, “And I think it’s really cool how you can spontaneously grow wings out of your back. Kinda jelly sometimes. I mean, can you imagine how cool it’d be if I could blow bad guys’ brains out from the sky? Or like, flyby beheadings?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. His ideas were concerning at least, but it was such an Adrian thing to think. How best to kill someone? Flyby beheadings. Of course.

You huffed an amused laugh and reached once more for the antiseptic solution. “Thank you…I think.”

You heard him laugh above you as well, and it put a smile on your face a mile wide. You dab some antiseptic on a cotton cloth and bring it to his skin.

“It’s gonna sting again. I’m sorry.” You warn, just beginning to disinfect the wound.

He hisses again, but this time his hand jolts down, grasping the meat of your thigh like it’d save his life.

“I know. You’re doing so good, baby. Just a couple more seconds.” The endearment falls from your lips and you don’t even think about it because his hand is suffocating your thigh and holy fuck he’s strong. “You’re good. Almost done. We’re almost done.”

He whimpers once more, slowly releasing your thigh as the stinging faded and you started to bandage his front.

You began wrapping his last cut in gauze, but you hardly think about it. Your thigh is still warm—tingling because of Adrian’s strong grip. You tried to keep focused on the bandaging. Shit, did you try. But the ghost of his hand was still wrapped around your thigh, but this time it was inching up, and up, and up….

“You know, I think it’s pretty cool how dedicated you are to saving Evergreen. Even if it’s in a more unconventional way.” You admit, keeping your eyes on the wrapping, trying to keep your mind off of your tingling thigh.

“Really?” The disbelieving tone in his voice drew your eyes to his.

“Yeah,” you reassure, “Plus, you look really pretty when you’re fighting people.”

You smile, watching as he realizes how you’ve complimented him the same way he did earlier, but then the compliment actually sinks in, and you watch his eyes widen.

He’s pinned you to your seat on the sofa with his gaze, and you can’t look away.

“You really think that? You think I’m pretty?”

You don’t know how to respond. You’re so focused on his eyes, his face, his lips.

Your lips part for a moment as you try to think of something to say without spilling your heart out into his lap. All you can manage is a small nod, and a mumble. “Mm-hm.”

Again, you think for just a split second that his eyes look down to your lips. He adjusts his seat again, seeming fidgety and nervous all over again.

“Can I tell you something?” He suddenly blurts, a shake in his voice.

“Yeah.” You nod, captivated, near spellbound by his eyes.

“Your house wasn’t really the closest one I could get to. I just needed help and I wanted to see you so I came here instead of going to, like, Chris’s which would have been closer. In fact your house was pretty far out of the way, but I reaaallllyyyy wanted to see you and now I’m on your couch and I-I—fuck.” He stops himself. Biting at his lower lip to shut himself up.

“You…what?” You immediately question.

He looks at you, his eyes darting all over your face over and over again, looking for some answer that he couldn't just ask for.

Before you realize it, he surges forward, urgently slamming his lips into yours; wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

He kissed you like fire, blazing against your lips with need so strong you could feel it cascading from him.

Or maybe it was your own need you felt. You kissed him just as hot, fervent as your hands found his jaw, holding him against your lips.

He whimpered, letting his own bare hands find your waist, tugging your shirt out of your pants so he could let his hands wander beneath to touch your skin. It’s warm and soft and fuck it’s better than he dreamed.

Your hands wander from his jaw, trailing down his neck to rub his shoulders before landing squarely on his warm, smooth chest.

Even when he slows down, his kisses feel like a fever. Even when he pulls away to rest his forehead on yours, you still feel the rush from his lips.

“God-fuck I want you.” He begs into your lips.

“I know, baby. I know. I want you too.” You coo, shifting to straddle his lap.

“Oh fuck—But-But not—not as a one time thing. I want—I-I need you to be my girl. Please please please be my girl,”

Your name floods from his lips, followed by more pleas as his lips chase yours.

You’re nodding like your life depends on it before diving in for another searing kiss.

“Of course I’ll be your girl Adrian. Fuck I’ve wanted to be your girl for so long.”

He keens when he hears your response, tightening his grip on your waist. His hips jut into the air, grinding himself against the new heat pooling in your core.

“Oh fuck, Adrian that feels so good.” You whine, grinding yourself on the silhouette of his hardening cock.

His mouth falls open and he groans, pressing his hips even harder into yours, seeking more blessed friction.

You dive down, littering his neck in sloppy, open mouthed kisses, nipping his skin here and there before biting down on the nape of his neck.

“Holy shit—fuck—I want you so fuckin bad. Can-can I please? Do you want me?”

It all comes tumbling out of his mouth and you’re nodding before he even finishes speaking.

“Yes baby. I want you so, so bad. Please.”

You reach down for his belt, intent on unbuckling it, but before you can, Adrian grabs your hands to stop you.

“Nu-uh. Wanna taste you first. Need to taste you.” He begs, his voice cracking in desperation.

Heat flooded your core, melting you right into his lap. You nodded, and he let go of a heaving sigh before lifting you off his lap and setting you beside him on the couch.

He wasted no time in kneeling between your legs, ripping open your belt and all but tearing your jeans and panties off of you. He threw them behind him somewhere, he didn’t care where, before pushing your knees open so he could see your pussy.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. The way he sucked in a breath at the sight of your pussy sent chills down your back.

And the sight of your slick peeking out from your folds made his cock throb. “Fuck you’re gorgeous. This pussy all wet for me?”

You nod and whimper, pushing your hips closer to him in a silent request; pleading eyes boring holes into his skull. He notices, smirking at you before delving down to place kisses along your inner thigh, just inches from where you need him most.

“I need you to use your words babe. You want my tongue in your pussy?”

“Yes, yes—fuck—Adrian I want your tongue!” You beg, your aching core screaming for some sort of relief.

There’s a cocky glint in his eye as he dips down and licks a broad swathe over your slit.

“Holy FUCK! Adrian!” Shocks jolted through your body. You felt your nerves sparking to life. And the velvety warmth of his tongue was unrelenting, sending shockwaves through your body every time it rounded your clit.

Your eyes slammed shut, pleasure overwhelming your senses as you bucked into his mouth, whining with every small movement he made. His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs, nails digging into your skin.

His tongue dipped down, prodding at your entrance, and when you cried out for him, he moaned into your cunt before thrusting his tongue into you.

You cried, your hand darting out, grasping at his hair, urging him deeper into your begging cunt.

“Shit Adrian, you-you’re so good. So so good.” The praise falls from your lips in moans, tumbling down your body to his eager, listening ears.

You notice a shift in his demeanor. His cocky edge falls with every passing second and he starts to moan with every thrust of his tongue.

And something devilish sparks inside of you.

“You look so good down there, so handsome baby.”

Adrian whines, pulling his tongue from you for just a moment to speak, “I like it when you call me that.”

“Call you what? Baby?” You ask, as a smirk just begins to twist your face.

He keens and nods his head before dipping back down, only to be stopped when you grab a fistful of his hair and tug, forcing him to look up at you. His whine is quite the reward when his bright, lusty eyes meet yours

“Mmmmmm. Okay then baby, let’s see how good you can make me feel.”

His eyes blow wide, and he nods frantically before diving back to devour your hot cunt, licking up your slit, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your clit, and whining into your hips as they rock into his face.

You’re lost in the feeling. His soft, warm tongue coaxes you closer and closer to your high, but just as you close your eyes, you notice a small movement between your legs.

He tries to be sneaky, or maybe he’s hesitant. Either way, through half-lidded eyes you catch him inching his hand closer and closer to his crotch until he’s palming his cock through his pants. His moans grow loud and heavy and you can feel his shuddering, deep breaths as he tries desperately to keep from cummming right then and there.

You smirk, wondering how close he’s gotten himself. He seems absolutely lost in your cunt, and you can’t help but chuckle, “How’s my baby huh? All drunk off my pussy?”

He moans and nods into your cunt without even looking at you, thrusting his tongue back into you and desperately fucking you as hard as he can.

You gasp, digging your nails into his scalp and tugging his hair as a deep pressure begins to build in your core. Your voice is breathy and shallow when you speak, “Look at you. Can’t-can’t even wait to fuck me. You’re that needy huh? Gotta palm that poor cock of yours?”

He whines, pressing his face as far as he fucking can into your cunt, lapping deep, reaching for that spongey spot that shatters the world.

You’re so, so close. Your cunt aches and begs for release. The pressure builds and builds and builds and-

Then there’s a rush of cold air on your cunt, and the sound of Adrian gasping for breath beneath you. Your eyes snap open, and you all but scramble to sit up.

He’s grasping your thigh so tight you think he doesn’t realize it, and his body is trembling against your legs.

“Wha-what? Why? I-I was so…I was-“ you whimper, unable to finish your sentence from the sheer shock of the last few seconds.

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry, but if I don’t stop right now I’m gonna cream my pants before I even get to fuck you.”

Something twists in your gut and you grab him by the neck, pulling him up to your lips, “Then get up here and fuck me baby.”

Now he scrambles, flailing to get up on the couch. You reach for his belt, finally getting to unbuckle it and toss it across the room. Adrian grabs the hem of your shirt, beginning to pull it off.

“Can I?” His eyes are wide and pleading; beautiful in cascading lamp light.

You nod, lifting your arms so he can rip your shirt over your head and throw it on the growing pile of clothes on your floor.

His eyes roam your chest and you watch the way they shift, seeking yet another answer he can’t simply ask for; the words trapped in his throat. His hand twitches beside him, barely lifting towards you. You give a knowing smile and grab his hand, bringing it up to your breasts. His hands are greedy, grabbing at as much pillowy flesh they can and you moan as pleasure washes through your body. He gives an experimental twist of your nipples, and your sharp, weak gasp is his reward.

“Fuck babe, you have the prettiest tits in the world. The best. I mean, I’d kill a man over these tits.”

You can’t help but laugh through a moan, “Really? They’re that pretty huh?”

Your tease was met with a deadpan, serious response, “Yeah. They’re a national fuckin treasure.”

You shake your head, amused by his silly response, “Well then, thank you. I’ll make sure they’re well taken care of.”

He giggles, leaning down to kiss you again. He’s gentle this time, sweet in the way his lips press to yours, already smiling.

You kiss him back, taking advantage of this tender moment to slip your hands under the waistband of his pants. He hums into your mouth, happy to feel your hands on his body. You reach back and give his butt a cheeky squeeze before finally running your hands along his hips, reaching forward to palm his hard cock.

You pull away as he groans, bringing your forehead to meet his, “Adrian, I don’t give a shit what Chris says, you are not a thimble. Holy fuck.”

He chuckles, grinning down at you and rocking his hips into your hand, “You like what you feel babe?”

“Mmhmm. I do.” You grin, palming him with just a little more pressure.

You blink and he’s gone. Only momentarily though. You hear the shuffling of fabric and a pained moan before he’s on you again, kissing you hard as he ruts his bare cock on your thigh. You open your legs, letting them fall away from your gleaming, wet pussy, hoping he’ll take the hint and give you what you want.

He dips his head to look down at you and how his cock drags against your skin. His breath shudders when he sees your exposed pussy, and he moves so that his cock rubs along your folds, teasing your clit and your fluttering, begging hole.

“Fuck you’re so wet.” He all but sobs into your ear. His thrusts get faster and harder, and that sweet pressure begins to build in your core once more.

He ruts faster and faster until he flinches and groans quietly, reaching for the bangaging on his abdomen. You soften for a second, stopping him with a hand to his chest, “Let me ride you. I don’t want you to hurt.”

“No,” he grits out, “wanna fuck you. I can rebandage the cuts later.”

“I don’t—“ He doesn’t give you a chance to respond. He slams himself into you, and you cry out, any possible response dying on your tongue in favor of Adrian’s name.

He pulls out slowly, savoring the feel of you, but he can’t help himself. He slams back into you with a cry of his own.

“Fuck you feel so good. So fuh-fucking good,” he whines, “Never thought I’d get this with you. N-Never—but fuck I’ve wanted it for so long. So so fucking long. Used to touch myself to the thought of you. Still do, b-but now I’m here and-“

You kiss his neck right under his jaw and trail kisses down to the crook of his neck. You moan into his skin at the thought of him touching himself to you. His whimpers fall on your ears as he starts to thrust his hips, pulling in and out of you in a slow, sensual rhythm.

“I’ve thought about you too. Wanted to kiss you since I met you, and I’ve been falling for you since.” You reach your hands up to cradle his face, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Adrian grabs your hips, angling them up so he could pound into you faster. Moans and whines fell from your lips as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you in time with his thrusts. Between his grunting, Adrian poured praises all over you.

“God—fuck—this hot cunt’s mine. It’s all mine right? No one else will ever get close to this perfect pussy huh?”

“Uh-uh,” you mumble, voice trembling along with his thrusts, “‘S all yours Adrian.”

“You’re my girl right? Tell me-Tell me you’re my girl. I gotta hear it.”

“‘M yours Adrian. Your girl.”

“Fuck that’s so hot! I—fuh—I love hearing you say that. Holy-“

“‘M all yours. ‘M your girl Adrian. Don’t want anyone else.” You whimper, only able to think of him and how good his cock feels buried in you. You feel that sweet pressure return—subtle, but building ever so quietly.

“Babe, if you keep sayin’ that I’m gonna lose it. I-shit, it’s too much. Your hot, perfect cunt around me, and then you telling me you’re my girl? It’s better than I dreamed and it’s too fucking much.”

“Adrian,” You whine, feeling the pressure build and build between your legs, “‘M close, p-please don’t stop—don’t fucking stop!”

His cock pounds against something inside you, the feeling so good it’s almost unbearable. You vaguely hear him say he wouldn’t dream of stopping, but it’s all drowned out as everything builds, the smallest sensation sending shockwaves through you.

“Adrian! Adrian I-“ You begin, only to fizzle out with a high whine.

“That’s it, cum for me babe. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Everything falls into place and shatters at once. Your body feels fragmented as you shudder and cry Adrian’s name at the top of your lungs. It’s so much. Too much and not enough and it’s everything. Your hands find themselves fisting handfuls of his hair, tugging and pulling. White flashes behind your eyes as new, half-numb peaks of pleasure beat through you.

“Holy fuckin shit!” Adrian moans, thrusting into you faster as he seeks his own high, “Your cunt’s so tight, I—I’m, fuck, I’m gonna—where? Where can I-?”

“Inside baby. I'm on the pill.” You answer, voice breathy, panting your response.

“Fuck! You’re the fucking best! I could-I could just-“ He cuts off, his entire body trembling as he goes rigid, and a second later you feel warmth filling you, spilling until you’re full and beyond then. Adrian cries your name and it dissolves into mindless whimpering with one last, heavy thrust.

He trembles above you for a moment, deep breaths holding you in this moment. You smile up at him and cradle his head in your hands, reaching up to press a kiss to his quivering lips. He kisses back, lazy and tired, but you feel him smile into it before he collapses on top of you.

You laugh as he all but crushes your ribs, and your hands start to gently card through his hair, “Are you okay? Do the cuts hurt?”

“Are you kidding? I’m fuckin amazing babe. Like, holy fuck. I came here hoping you’d patch up my sick battle wounds—which don’t hurt too bad, I’ll be good after a nap—and I’m ending the night with my cock buried between your legs and my cum dripping out of you. I’ve never been fucking better!”

His enthusiastic answer made you chuckle, a warm smile spreading on your face, “I’m happy to hear it.”

Adrian hums, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your chest. You lay like this for a few minutes, playing with his hair, and enjoying his warmth on top of you and in you. But when his breathing slows, and he goes a little limp, you gently shake him, whispering in his ear.

“Hey sleepyhead. Don’t fall asleep on me yet. I’ve gotta look you over again, and then we can go to bed okay?”

He groaned, lifting himself to look at you with the cutest grumpy pout you’d ever seen.

“Don’t wanna. You’re warm and comfy and I like being in you.”

“Hmm. How about this: you let me look you over, and when we get to bed, you can spend all night with your big cock buried in me? That sound good?” You bargained.

He perked up, smiling and nodding his head.

It didn’t take long for you to look him over. Neither of the cuts had reopened, and the bandaging didn’t need to be replaced, so you gave him the green light and he all but bounded for your bedroom.

“I’ll be in in just a second. Gotta wash my face and all that.” You call to him from down the hall.

“Alrighty Aphrodite!” He calls back from your room.

While you’re in the bathroom, Adrian dawns a devious smirk, and quickly tiptoes past the bathroom door, back into the living room. He finds what he’s looking for: the pile of clothes left behind in your frenzy.

He rummages a little, tossing clothes aside until he finds your panties. He plucks them right out of the pile, still soaked with your slick from before. He takes a quick sniff, relishing your smell with a small moan, then stuffs them in his pant pockets, hoping you won’t notice their absence in the morning.

With that done, Adrian sneaks back into your room with just enough time to get situated in your bed before you get to your room.

There’s something energetic in the air—something almost panicky. And when you look at Adrian, his face breaks out into a gigantic smile.

“What?“ You quiz him with a quirked brow.

“Oh, nothing.” He promises, trying his best to look innocent despite the devilish grin on his face.

“Mhmm,” you hum as you climb into bed beside him, not quite convinced, “Sure. Nothing. Whatever you say baby.”

Tags! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[apocalypticwafflekitten]

Morning Reblog!

Soft Hands

Adrian Chase x afab!Reader 🧜‍♂️

A/N: Hi! Okay! So this was going to be posted for my birthday (March 15th) but Nope. I accidentally deleted the draft and had to entirely rewrite and finish the fic! But! Now it’s rewritten and done and all is good with the world! But basically, I watched Peacemaker, fell in love with this man, and had to write a fic!

Also! Shoutout to @justalittletomato for beta-ing this story for me!

Original Imagine/Summary Thingy: That good ole “patching up your s/o’s wounds” trope and then it got away from me.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS, explicit sexual content, oral sex (fem receiving), switch!Adrian, switch!reader, orgasm denial, mention of boobs, the teeniest, tiniest bit of dry humping, unprotected piv sex (dont be sick, wrap that dick), feels, these two are goofballs, Adrian gets pretty possessive there near the end. And finally, a lil panty stealing. (Oh and an obscene use of italics)

Also! This is an xreader story, but I’ve given them some powers and their code name. They’re called Harpy because they can ✨magically✨ grow wings from markings on their back, and talons on their hands and feet.

Word Count: 5.5k (whoops)

Soft light warmed your room as you lay in bed, typing up a report for the team’s last mission. It was a success all and all, even if they came back with a few cuts and bruises here and there.

You took a deep breath, prying yourself away from your computer to look outside your window. It was a calm night. A soft breeze pushed tree limbs to and fro. You heard an eagle screech in the distance and smiled, wondering if it was Eagly.

You were brought from your wondering by a knock at your window pane.

Refocusing on your window, you saw Vigilante's familiar black and teal suit, leading up to his red visor that was looking directly at you.

You set your laptop aside, stepping from your bed to walk across your soft, carpeted floor. You reach behind the string of lights framing your window in a gentle, yellow halo to unlatch and slide open the window.

“V? What are you doing here?”

“Hiya Harpy. I uh—I’ve got this cut on my back and I was wondering - well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to of course, it’s kinda gnarly, but it hurts pretty bad and I was wondering if maybe you’d help me patch it up? Your house was the closest I could get to.”

It was a bold faced lie and he knew it. Your house was entirely out of his way, but he always wanted to see you and now he had an excuse.

Of course! Come around to my front door and I’ll let you in!” You hurriedly responded, and Adrian nodded, waving goodbye before he left the view of your window.

You rushed to your door to let your injured teammate in. He stumbled into your entryway, leaning on the wall to keep himself up. His other hand was pressed tightly just under his chest.

You rushed forward and caught his shoulders, doing your best to keep him upright. “Adrian? I thought you said you only had the cut on your back. Are you alright?”

He reached up with the hand from his abdomen to remove his mask, revealing a bloody gash just under his pectorals. “Well, uh, yeah I’m okay. I have a few other wounds but the one on my back is the only one I need help with. I can get the others later.”

You shook your head and frowned when you caught sight of his bloody suit and glove, “Oh no. I’m not just going to patch up one of your wounds and send you on your merry way when there are others that need tended to. Come on in and I’ll patch you up.”

He nodded without another word, hanging his mask on your coat rack. He trembled as he tried to walk on his own. Nearly all his weight was leaned on the wall, and it didn’t look like he was making much progress on his own.

Gently, you took his arm, bringing it to rest around your shoulders,“Here, let me help you.” You offered.

He nodded once again, and immediately leaned almost all of his weight on your shoulders. You huffed a laugh in response, looking up to his pained face.

“Not doin’ so well there huh?”

He pouted, shaking his head ‘no’ as you led him to your living room. Gosh he was so cute sometimes. Even when he was injured and bleeding in your entryway.

He landed on your sofa with a heavy plop, sinking slightly into the squishy cushions and nearly bonking his knees on your coffee table.

“Alrighty. I’m going to go grab my first aid kit and a damp rag. Don't pass out on me before I get back okay?”

“Mkay. I’ll be right here.”He smiled up at you. He was a little loopy, but he was there for the most part.

He was in fact not right there when you got back. The sofa had been abandoned for the mirror you kept in your entryway. He was leaning against the wall again, trying to see the clasps of his armor at an odd angle.

“Adrian?”

He startles, then flushes when he realizes you're watching him with a questioning look.

He looks dejected as he avoids your gaze, mumbling to the floor, “I can’t get the back clasps. It hurts too much.”

Your face softens into an understanding smile.

“Alrighty then. Come back to the sofa with me, and I’ll help you get your armor off okay?” You say, wrapping his arm around you once again.

He nods and leans on you again, still pouting the whole way back to the living room.

When he plops on the sofa again, you grab the med kit and set it on the coffee table before turning to help with his armor.

Sitting beside him now, you can see the true extent of the wound. It sliced through his suit, leaving a red gash that trailed a little under the edge of his armor. There was dried blood all around the wound and on his suit that needed to be cleaned off, but at least the bleeding had stopped.

You found the back clasps pretty easily and unclasped them, letting the large plate fall from his shoulders. You set it aside on your coffee table before beginning on his shoulder plates.

When it came to his gauntlets he insisted you didn’t need to take them off for him. He insisted he could do it himself, and pulled his hands away from you, beginning to remove them on his own.

You stopped him. Taking one of his hands in yours, you hold it tight as you speak, “I know you’re capable of taking them off yourself. That’s not the point. You’re injured. You’re hurting. Let me take care of you.” You persisted, and began to work on his gauntlets once more.

Once they were off you held his bare hands in yours and gave them a little reassuring squeeze, a warm smile lighting up your face when you meet his eyes. For a second you think his gaze might have flickered down to your lips, but you brush it off as a momentary daydream and let go of his hands.

“Alrighty. We just need to get your undershirt off. Does it hurt too much to lift your arms?”

He tries. He winces a little. But he promises you that it’s okay for the few seconds needed.

You reach for the hem of his shirt, lifting it to reveal soft, warm skin. Every inch of skin revealed tempts you to stare—to admire—but instead you focus on the cut, and steadying your hands to avoid irritating it.

You don’t miss the way his breath hitches when your hands just barely brush against his chest. You try not to pay it any mind though. Your hands are probably cold and caught him off guard. But when you smooth your hands over his back to free his shirt from the dried, crusted blood at the edges of the gash, he quietly, ever so softly, whines.

“I’m sorry if it hurts.” You apologize in a whisper.

“No, no. It’s-its fine.” He responds, his voice a bit wavy.

You’re silent for a few seconds as you gather as much of his shirt into your hands as you can.

“Lift.” You softly request. He lifts his arms up, letting you pull his shirt over his head. You fold it and place it on the coffee table with the rest of his armor.

When you turn back to him, you can’t help but stare for a moment. His lean muscles just show through from under his soft skin. His collarbones frame his broad shoulders and lead the eyes up his long, slender neck. Despite all the cuts and little bruises littered all over him, he’s still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

You meet his eyes, and it takes you too long to realize he’s caught you staring. Warmth rushes your face and floods your cheeks, and you finally turn to your med kit, too embarrassed to keep looking at him. Unfortunately though, that means you miss the way he flushed under your attention as well.

You pull out some bandages, gauze, and antiseptic solution, but you start with the damp rag, bringing it up to his back so you can start washing the dried blood away from the cut.

He jumps at the rag’s cool touch, but settles a bit more when he gets used to the feeling of your hands working softly against his back. Still, every once in a while he’d shift, seeming kinda fidgety and restless, so you decide to strike up a conversation to help.

“So, how’d the big bad Vigilante get these new battle scars hm?”

He laughs just a bit before answering, “Oh you know, killing bad guys. Saving the city. As you do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! We had this really cool knife fight, and I killed them all, but, well, they got me too.”

“So I see.” You set the rag aside so you could reach for the antiseptic solution and a few cotton pads.

You warned him of the impending sting, and when he hissed because of it you reached forward and found his hand, letting him squeeze your own hand as hard as he needed.

“You’re okay. I know. I know, I know. It hurts, but it’ll be over soon, I promise.” You coo over his shoulder.

Just seconds later, you’re applying bandages that’ll keep the cut closed, and wrapping him in a couple layers of gauze. Before you have time to question it, or even think about it, you place a small kiss on his shoulder near the wound as you smooth out the gauze.

“Alrighty. One cut down. One more to go. Can you turn to face me?”

You completely missed the tiny moment where he tensed before he turned to face you. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, and a part of him thought he dreamed it. But your lips felt too soft and real and his shoulder was still tingling. Either way you just keep going, letting the moment pass unnoticed and, seemingly, unnoted. He didn’t know what to think.

You grabbed the rag again, but when you brought it up to his skin, he flinched away.

Looking up to him, you placed the palm of your hand against his chest, just above the shallow red wound. You could hear his heart beating fast. His breaths were quick and deep and he seemed a little restless.

“You’ll be alright,” your tone is soft, gentle to reassure him, “You don’t have to be afraid. You’re safe here.”

He wasn’t afraid, not that he would ever say anyway. You were just so close, touching his bare chest as if he were fragile. Never mind that he gets worse beatings than this more often than not. Never mind that you know that. You were just so gentle. No one had ever treated him like that before. And the soft way you talked to him - as if he would cower away from anything louder than a whisper - melted his heart right into your hands.

He’d never wanted to kiss anyone so much.

“You know, you look really pretty when you’re concentrating on something”, he quietly confessed, “And I think it’s really cool how you can spontaneously grow wings out of your back. Kinda jelly sometimes. I mean, can you imagine how cool it’d be if I could blow bad guys’ brains out from the sky? Or like, flyby beheadings?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. His ideas were concerning at least, but it was such an Adrian thing to think. How best to kill someone? Flyby beheadings. Of course.

You huffed an amused laugh and reached once more for the antiseptic solution. “Thank you…I think.”

You heard him laugh above you as well, and it put a smile on your face a mile wide. You dab some antiseptic on a cotton cloth and bring it to his skin.

“It’s gonna sting again. I’m sorry.” You warn, just beginning to disinfect the wound.

He hisses again, but this time his hand jolts down, grasping the meat of your thigh like it’d save his life.

“I know. You’re doing so good, baby. Just a couple more seconds.” The endearment falls from your lips and you don’t even think about it because his hand is suffocating your thigh and holy fuck he’s strong. “You’re good. Almost done. We’re almost done.”

He whimpers once more, slowly releasing your thigh as the stinging faded and you started to bandage his front.

You began wrapping his last cut in gauze, but you hardly think about it. Your thigh is still warm—tingling because of Adrian’s strong grip. You tried to keep focused on the bandaging. Shit, did you try. But the ghost of his hand was still wrapped around your thigh, but this time it was inching up, and up, and up….

“You know, I think it’s pretty cool how dedicated you are to saving Evergreen. Even if it’s in a more unconventional way.” You admit, keeping your eyes on the wrapping, trying to keep your mind off of your tingling thigh.

“Really?” The disbelieving tone in his voice drew your eyes to his.

“Yeah,” you reassure, “Plus, you look really pretty when you’re fighting people.”

You smile, watching as he realizes how you’ve complimented him the same way he did earlier, but then the compliment actually sinks in, and you watch his eyes widen.

He’s pinned you to your seat on the sofa with his gaze, and you can’t look away.

“You really think that? You think I’m pretty?”

You don’t know how to respond. You’re so focused on his eyes, his face, his lips.

Your lips part for a moment as you try to think of something to say without spilling your heart out into his lap. All you can manage is a small nod, and a mumble. “Mm-hm.”

Again, you think for just a split second that his eyes look down to your lips. He adjusts his seat again, seeming fidgety and nervous all over again.

“Can I tell you something?” He suddenly blurts, a shake in his voice.

“Yeah.” You nod, captivated, near spellbound by his eyes.

“Your house wasn’t really the closest one I could get to. I just needed help and I wanted to see you so I came here instead of going to, like, Chris’s which would have been closer. In fact your house was pretty far out of the way, but I reaaallllyyyy wanted to see you and now I’m on your couch and I-I—fuck.” He stops himself. Biting at his lower lip to shut himself up.

“You…what?” You immediately question.

He looks at you, his eyes darting all over your face over and over again, looking for some answer that he couldn't just ask for.

Before you realize it, he surges forward, urgently slamming his lips into yours; wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

He kissed you like fire, blazing against your lips with need so strong you could feel it cascading from him.

Or maybe it was your own need you felt. You kissed him just as hot, fervent as your hands found his jaw, holding him against your lips.

He whimpered, letting his own bare hands find your waist, tugging your shirt out of your pants so he could let his hands wander beneath to touch your skin. It’s warm and soft and fuck it’s better than he dreamed.

Your hands wander from his jaw, trailing down his neck to rub his shoulders before landing squarely on his warm, smooth chest.

Even when he slows down, his kisses feel like a fever. Even when he pulls away to rest his forehead on yours, you still feel the rush from his lips.

“God-fuck I want you.” He begs into your lips.

“I know, baby. I know. I want you too.” You coo, shifting to straddle his lap.

“Oh fuck—But-But not—not as a one time thing. I want—I-I need you to be my girl. Please please please be my girl,”

Your name floods from his lips, followed by more pleas as his lips chase yours.

You’re nodding like your life depends on it before diving in for another searing kiss.

“Of course I’ll be your girl Adrian. Fuck I’ve wanted to be your girl for so long.”

He keens when he hears your response, tightening his grip on your waist. His hips jut into the air, grinding himself against the new heat pooling in your core.

“Oh fuck, Adrian that feels so good.” You whine, grinding yourself on the silhouette of his hardening cock.

His mouth falls open and he groans, pressing his hips even harder into yours, seeking more blessed friction.

You dive down, littering his neck in sloppy, open mouthed kisses, nipping his skin here and there before biting down on the nape of his neck.

“Holy shit—fuck—I want you so fuckin bad. Can-can I please? Do you want me?”

It all comes tumbling out of his mouth and you’re nodding before he even finishes speaking.

“Yes baby. I want you so, so bad. Please.”

You reach down for his belt, intent on unbuckling it, but before you can, Adrian grabs your hands to stop you.

“Nu-uh. Wanna taste you first. Need to taste you.” He begs, his voice cracking in desperation.

Heat flooded your core, melting you right into his lap. You nodded, and he let go of a heaving sigh before lifting you off his lap and setting you beside him on the couch.

He wasted no time in kneeling between your legs, ripping open your belt and all but tearing your jeans and panties off of you. He threw them behind him somewhere, he didn’t care where, before pushing your knees open so he could see your pussy.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. The way he sucked in a breath at the sight of your pussy sent chills down your back.

And the sight of your slick peeking out from your folds made his cock throb. “Fuck you’re gorgeous. This pussy all wet for me?”

You nod and whimper, pushing your hips closer to him in a silent request; pleading eyes boring holes into his skull. He notices, smirking at you before delving down to place kisses along your inner thigh, just inches from where you need him most.

“I need you to use your words babe. You want my tongue in your pussy?”

“Yes, yes—fuck—Adrian I want your tongue!” You beg, your aching core screaming for some sort of relief.

There’s a cocky glint in his eye as he dips down and licks a broad swathe over your slit.

“Holy FUCK! Adrian!” Shocks jolted through your body. You felt your nerves sparking to life. And the velvety warmth of his tongue was unrelenting, sending shockwaves through your body every time it rounded your clit.

Your eyes slammed shut, pleasure overwhelming your senses as you bucked into his mouth, whining with every small movement he made. His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs, nails digging into your skin.

His tongue dipped down, prodding at your entrance, and when you cried out for him, he moaned into your cunt before thrusting his tongue into you.

You cried, your hand darting out, grasping at his hair, urging him deeper into your begging cunt.

“Shit Adrian, you-you’re so good. So so good.” The praise falls from your lips in moans, tumbling down your body to his eager, listening ears.

You notice a shift in his demeanor. His cocky edge falls with every passing second and he starts to moan with every thrust of his tongue.

And something devilish sparks inside of you.

“You look so good down there, so handsome baby.”

Adrian whines, pulling his tongue from you for just a moment to speak, “I like it when you call me that.”

“Call you what? Baby?” You ask, as a smirk just begins to twist your face.

He keens and nods his head before dipping back down, only to be stopped when you grab a fistful of his hair and tug, forcing him to look up at you. His whine is quite the reward when his bright, lusty eyes meet yours

“Mmmmmm. Okay then baby, let’s see how good you can make me feel.”

His eyes blow wide, and he nods frantically before diving back to devour your hot cunt, licking up your slit, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your clit, and whining into your hips as they rock into his face.

You’re lost in the feeling. His soft, warm tongue coaxes you closer and closer to your high, but just as you close your eyes, you notice a small movement between your legs.

He tries to be sneaky, or maybe he’s hesitant. Either way, through half-lidded eyes you catch him inching his hand closer and closer to his crotch until he’s palming his cock through his pants. His moans grow loud and heavy and you can feel his shuddering, deep breaths as he tries desperately to keep from cummming right then and there.

You smirk, wondering how close he’s gotten himself. He seems absolutely lost in your cunt, and you can’t help but chuckle, “How’s my baby huh? All drunk off my pussy?”

He moans and nods into your cunt without even looking at you, thrusting his tongue back into you and desperately fucking you as hard as he can.

You gasp, digging your nails into his scalp and tugging his hair as a deep pressure begins to build in your core. Your voice is breathy and shallow when you speak, “Look at you. Can’t-can’t even wait to fuck me. You’re that needy huh? Gotta palm that poor cock of yours?”

He whines, pressing his face as far as he fucking can into your cunt, lapping deep, reaching for that spongey spot that shatters the world.

You’re so, so close. Your cunt aches and begs for release. The pressure builds and builds and builds and-

Then there’s a rush of cold air on your cunt, and the sound of Adrian gasping for breath beneath you. Your eyes snap open, and you all but scramble to sit up.

He’s grasping your thigh so tight you think he doesn’t realize it, and his body is trembling against your legs.

“Wha-what? Why? I-I was so…I was-“ you whimper, unable to finish your sentence from the sheer shock of the last few seconds.

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry, but if I don’t stop right now I’m gonna cream my pants before I even get to fuck you.”

Something twists in your gut and you grab him by the neck, pulling him up to your lips, “Then get up here and fuck me baby.”

Now he scrambles, flailing to get up on the couch. You reach for his belt, finally getting to unbuckle it and toss it across the room. Adrian grabs the hem of your shirt, beginning to pull it off.

“Can I?” His eyes are wide and pleading; beautiful in cascading lamp light.

You nod, lifting your arms so he can rip your shirt over your head and throw it on the growing pile of clothes on your floor.

His eyes roam your chest and you watch the way they shift, seeking yet another answer he can’t simply ask for; the words trapped in his throat. His hand twitches beside him, barely lifting towards you. You give a knowing smile and grab his hand, bringing it up to your breasts. His hands are greedy, grabbing at as much pillowy flesh they can and you moan as pleasure washes through your body. He gives an experimental twist of your nipples, and your sharp, weak gasp is his reward.

“Fuck babe, you have the prettiest tits in the world. The best. I mean, I’d kill a man over these tits.”

You can’t help but laugh through a moan, “Really? They’re that pretty huh?”

Your tease was met with a deadpan, serious response, “Yeah. They’re a national fuckin treasure.”

You shake your head, amused by his silly response, “Well then, thank you. I’ll make sure they’re well taken care of.”

He giggles, leaning down to kiss you again. He’s gentle this time, sweet in the way his lips press to yours, already smiling.

You kiss him back, taking advantage of this tender moment to slip your hands under the waistband of his pants. He hums into your mouth, happy to feel your hands on his body. You reach back and give his butt a cheeky squeeze before finally running your hands along his hips, reaching forward to palm his hard cock.

You pull away as he groans, bringing your forehead to meet his, “Adrian, I don’t give a shit what Chris says, you are not a thimble. Holy fuck.”

He chuckles, grinning down at you and rocking his hips into your hand, “You like what you feel babe?”

“Mmhmm. I do.” You grin, palming him with just a little more pressure.

You blink and he’s gone. Only momentarily though. You hear the shuffling of fabric and a pained moan before he’s on you again, kissing you hard as he ruts his bare cock on your thigh. You open your legs, letting them fall away from your gleaming, wet pussy, hoping he’ll take the hint and give you what you want.

He dips his head to look down at you and how his cock drags against your skin. His breath shudders when he sees your exposed pussy, and he moves so that his cock rubs along your folds, teasing your clit and your fluttering, begging hole.

“Fuck you’re so wet.” He all but sobs into your ear. His thrusts get faster and harder, and that sweet pressure begins to build in your core once more.

He ruts faster and faster until he flinches and groans quietly, reaching for the bangaging on his abdomen. You soften for a second, stopping him with a hand to his chest, “Let me ride you. I don’t want you to hurt.”

“No,” he grits out, “wanna fuck you. I can rebandage the cuts later.”

“I don’t—“ He doesn’t give you a chance to respond. He slams himself into you, and you cry out, any possible response dying on your tongue in favor of Adrian’s name.

He pulls out slowly, savoring the feel of you, but he can’t help himself. He slams back into you with a cry of his own.

“Fuck you feel so good. So fuh-fucking good,” he whines, “Never thought I’d get this with you. N-Never—but fuck I’ve wanted it for so long. So so fucking long. Used to touch myself to the thought of you. Still do, b-but now I’m here and-“

You kiss his neck right under his jaw and trail kisses down to the crook of his neck. You moan into his skin at the thought of him touching himself to you. His whimpers fall on your ears as he starts to thrust his hips, pulling in and out of you in a slow, sensual rhythm.

“I’ve thought about you too. Wanted to kiss you since I met you, and I’ve been falling for you since.” You reach your hands up to cradle his face, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Adrian grabs your hips, angling them up so he could pound into you faster. Moans and whines fell from your lips as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you in time with his thrusts. Between his grunting, Adrian poured praises all over you.

“God—fuck—this hot cunt’s mine. It’s all mine right? No one else will ever get close to this perfect pussy huh?”

“Uh-uh,” you mumble, voice trembling along with his thrusts, “‘S all yours Adrian.”

“You’re my girl right? Tell me-Tell me you’re my girl. I gotta hear it.”

“‘M yours Adrian. Your girl.”

“Fuck that’s so hot! I—fuh—I love hearing you say that. Holy-“

“‘M all yours. ‘M your girl Adrian. Don’t want anyone else.” You whimper, only able to think of him and how good his cock feels buried in you. You feel that sweet pressure return—subtle, but building ever so quietly.

“Babe, if you keep sayin’ that I’m gonna lose it. I-shit, it’s too much. Your hot, perfect cunt around me, and then you telling me you’re my girl? It’s better than I dreamed and it’s too fucking much.”

“Adrian,” You whine, feeling the pressure build and build between your legs, “‘M close, p-please don’t stop—don’t fucking stop!”

His cock pounds against something inside you, the feeling so good it’s almost unbearable. You vaguely hear him say he wouldn’t dream of stopping, but it’s all drowned out as everything builds, the smallest sensation sending shockwaves through you.

“Adrian! Adrian I-“ You begin, only to fizzle out with a high whine.

“That’s it, cum for me babe. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Everything falls into place and shatters at once. Your body feels fragmented as you shudder and cry Adrian’s name at the top of your lungs. It’s so much. Too much and not enough and it’s everything. Your hands find themselves fisting handfuls of his hair, tugging and pulling. White flashes behind your eyes as new, half-numb peaks of pleasure beat through you.

“Holy fuckin shit!” Adrian moans, thrusting into you faster as he seeks his own high, “Your cunt’s so tight, I—I’m, fuck, I’m gonna—where? Where can I-?”

“Inside baby. I'm on the pill.” You answer, voice breathy, panting your response.

“Fuck! You’re the fucking best! I could-I could just-“ He cuts off, his entire body trembling as he goes rigid, and a second later you feel warmth filling you, spilling until you’re full and beyond then. Adrian cries your name and it dissolves into mindless whimpering with one last, heavy thrust.

He trembles above you for a moment, deep breaths holding you in this moment. You smile up at him and cradle his head in your hands, reaching up to press a kiss to his quivering lips. He kisses back, lazy and tired, but you feel him smile into it before he collapses on top of you.

You laugh as he all but crushes your ribs, and your hands start to gently card through his hair, “Are you okay? Do the cuts hurt?”

“Are you kidding? I’m fuckin amazing babe. Like, holy fuck. I came here hoping you’d patch up my sick battle wounds—which don’t hurt too bad, I’ll be good after a nap—and I’m ending the night with my cock buried between your legs and my cum dripping out of you. I’ve never been fucking better!”

His enthusiastic answer made you chuckle, a warm smile spreading on your face, “I’m happy to hear it.”

Adrian hums, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your chest. You lay like this for a few minutes, playing with his hair, and enjoying his warmth on top of you and in you. But when his breathing slows, and he goes a little limp, you gently shake him, whispering in his ear.

“Hey sleepyhead. Don’t fall asleep on me yet. I’ve gotta look you over again, and then we can go to bed okay?”

He groaned, lifting himself to look at you with the cutest grumpy pout you’d ever seen.

“Don’t wanna. You’re warm and comfy and I like being in you.”

“Hmm. How about this: you let me look you over, and when we get to bed, you can spend all night with your big cock buried in me? That sound good?” You bargained.

He perked up, smiling and nodding his head.

It didn’t take long for you to look him over. Neither of the cuts had reopened, and the bandaging didn’t need to be replaced, so you gave him the green light and he all but bounded for your bedroom.

“I’ll be in in just a second. Gotta wash my face and all that.” You call to him from down the hall.

“Alrighty Aphrodite!” He calls back from your room.

While you’re in the bathroom, Adrian dawns a devious smirk, and quickly tiptoes past the bathroom door, back into the living room. He finds what he’s looking for: the pile of clothes left behind in your frenzy.

He rummages a little, tossing clothes aside until he finds your panties. He plucks them right out of the pile, still soaked with your slick from before. He takes a quick sniff, relishing your smell with a small moan, then stuffs them in his pant pockets, hoping you won’t notice their absence in the morning.

With that done, Adrian sneaks back into your room with just enough time to get situated in your bed before you get to your room.

There’s something energetic in the air—something almost panicky. And when you look at Adrian, his face breaks out into a gigantic smile.

“What?“ You quiz him with a quirked brow.

“Oh, nothing.” He promises, trying his best to look innocent despite the devilish grin on his face.

“Mhmm,” you hum as you climb into bed beside him, not quite convinced, “Sure. Nothing. Whatever you say baby.”

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