Hey there! Iâm Bip, a writer with a love for crafting stories. Whether youâre here for sweet moments, slow burns, or a bit of angst, Iâve got something for everyone!
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Mike Schmidt (Five Nights At Freddy's 2023)
1) Crooked 32 I Tumblr I AO3 I
Mike and Abby move into a new apartment with a new neighbour, but Mike's old mundane responsibilities persist. That's okay; his neighbour and her dog are prepared to entertain Abby for as long as he needs.
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Story Summary -> Scott soon finds out that life as a family man is for him. He loves the movie dates and the lazy days and, yeah, the more intimate sides too.
Tags -> Coworkers to Lovers, Workplace Relationship, Mutual Pining, Babysitting, Movie: Twisters (2024), Parenting Worries, Boss/Employee Relationship, Family Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, New Relationship
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Previous Chapter -> Pizza Night
Scott was addicted to touching Y/N, he came to realise. He'd hoped he'd be the cool, hands off, totally casual kind of boyfriend, but he wasn't.
He couldn't help it. His hand would drift to her waist as they walked into work, fingers splaying possessively across the fabric of her blouse. He'd rest his palm on the small of her back whenever they stood by each other, even in meetings. He needed to know where she was if they were in this same room, half his attention focused on her movements, on her words, on her expressions.
It was unconscious, this need to be aware of her at all times. When he caught himself doing it, Scott would remove his hand and pretend to be all nonchalant about it, but he always put it back within a minute or two.
They'd completed the forms. All of Y/N's work had to be moved to Javi's pile and only Javi's pile to review. And the pair had to go through a mandatory seminar about work appropriate behaviour for people in a relationship.
It was official official.
But that didn't mean that they told people. People noticed more, that was obvious by all side eyes and speculative whispers, and those only increased on the one Friday Y/N had time off to take Wybie to the doctors.
Scott had been with them the night before. It wasn't as if he'd gone days without seeing her - he was in the office with her every day, then they would see each other whenever he came around in the evenings. In fact, he'd specifically arranged to leave early so he could take the pair for an ice cream run and a movie and just generally spend the evening with them.
Yet, Scott was grumpy. Obscenely so. He scowled at anyone who dared to greet him or even smile at him in the elevator. He snapped at Javi, who had the audacity to joke about Y/N's absence. And, yeah, maybe he did yell at Pete from legal for loitering near the printer yet again.
And he knew he was being an asshole. That was the worst part, as this knowledge didn't help at all. If anything, it made him more annoyed, because he knew he was acting like his emotional regulation went straight out of the window when his girlfriend wasn't in his direct line of sight.
Back in the day, back before Javi forced him to do a anger management course, that yell at Pete from legal would've been a rant and a rave and a slew of creative expletives about his uselessness and why couldn't he just fuck off and leave Scott alone. But Scott managed to contain himself to just the one yell, and then he went to sit in the conference room to cool off.
He was there for an hour, just brooding and sulking, until he finally dragged himself back to his desk to do actual work.
The relief he felt when he was finally free to leave work was immense. It was as if every bit of unnecessary anger evaporated as soon as he clocked out. He felt light, almost dizzy, as he strode out of the building, already pulling his phone out to call Y/N.
The call was answered on the second ring. But not by Y/N.
"Hi Scotty!" Wybie squealed excitedly into the phone. His pitch was always so high when he was genuinely happy, and his happiness was a beautiful thing to witness, but it could hurt ears if you weren't prepared for it.
Scott winced and pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment before returning it.
"Hey buddy," he replied warmly, a fond smile spreading across his face. "Did Mama give you her phone so you could watch Miss Rachel?"
"No, Peppa," the boy corrected as if it was the most serious business in the world.
"Ah, of course." Scott rolled his eyes playfully. "How were the doctors? Did it make Wybie happy or did it make Wybie sad?"
The boy hummed as he thought over his answer.
"Wybie cried." Scott's face fell as he heard those words but the toddler soon added, "Got sticker too. That good."
"Are you okay now?"
"Mama make better."
Y/N did have a habit of making everything better. She was like the sun; wherever she was, light and warmth seemed to follow. And now Scott was one of the lucky people who got to bask in that radiance full time.
He'd never be soppy enough to say this out loud, though.
"Yeah, she's good at that." Scott smiled to himself as he got into his car. "Can you tell mama that I'm on my way? We can meet outside the ice cream place. "
In an instant, Wybie was babbling to his mother and doing as he was told to in a very roundabout way. Scott could hear a confused Y/N on the other end of the line as Wybie tried to communicate his request in broken phrases and gestures. It came to the point where she asked for the phone so she could talk to Scott directly.
"Hi honey," she greeted, and Scott turned to complete mush.
He still hadn't gotten used to being called that. Honestly, his brain couldn't comprehend being spoken to so fondly. He knew Y/N affectionately called Wybie 'baby', but when he got his own term of endearment, it was a revelation. Every time she called him that, he'd have to actively restrain himself from grinning like an idiot. He was a grown ass adult man, for fuck's sake, not a lovesick teenager and yet, he couldn't help it.
So he cleared his throat and tried to play it cool. "Hey," he returned, voice rough with affection. "I'm on my way to the ice cream place now. You heading over?"
"Yeah, we'll start walking now." She mumbled something to Wybie in the background before coming back to the call. "We'll probably be about 15 minutes or so, if Wybie doesn't stop to inspect every. single. thing."
They chuckled as Wybie's antics were all too familiar. If there was a hydrant to point out or a puddle to stomp in, Wybie would find it. He was a toddler on a mission to explore the world around him, which could be exhausting for anyone trying to get from point A to point B.
The call ended with some sweet "see you soon"s, and within no time at all, Scott was lifting Wybie into his arms for a bear hug and was getting a kiss on the jaw from his girlfriend - which was the most common kiss he got from her because she couldn't reach his lips unless he bent down.
"It's okay, baby. Scott's right here with us. You're safe."
As they reached the front of the line, Y/N placed their orders and tried to pay, claiming that it was "payment for all his babysitting", but Scott was having none of it and he handed over his card before she could even finish her sentence.
"I'm paying next time."
He smiled. "Nope. Absolutely not."
Y/N led the way to a free table near the window, and they settled in with their ice creams. Wybie had insisted on the chocolate fudge brownie flavour with so many sprinkles, and it was melting faster than he could eat it, leaving his hands and face covered in a gooey mess.
"Wybie," Y/N groaned as she watched him lick the side of the cup with an almost manic intensity.
To 'appease' his mother â not to manipulate her, no way â Wybie got to his feet on the booth seats and attempted to plant a big, messy, open-mouthed kiss on her cheek. Y/N laughed and wiped the food residue from her face. He was such a little stinker, and he knew it.
"Oh my god."
She looked down at her sticky son and laughed as she pulled a baby wipe from her bag to clean him up. Once he was all cleaned up, Y/N caught him by the waist and yanked him onto her lap to blow raspberries on his stomach mercilessly. Wybie squirmed and shrieked with laughter, his little body convulsing as he tried to break free from his mother's relentless kisses.
Coming from a family who rarely showed affection in private, let alone in such a busy public place, Scott never got tired of seeing how openly Y/N showed her love for Wybie.
Wybie laughed so hard that he nearly wet himself, which was a sign to stop before the situation escalated and things got really messy. Y/N set him back down in the booth next to her and he immediately buried his face in her shoulder to calm down.
"I got you. Good boy," she murmured, stroking his hair and pressing a soft kiss to his temple.
The adults shared some small talk as they ate their ice creams, and as they did, Scott's arm perched itself on the back of the booth behind Y/N. And, unknowingly, his fingers found their way to her temple to brush a stray hair behind her ear.
Y/N noticed and stayed quiet as it travelled to the back of her neck where his thumb began to gently massage small circles. The gentle pressure felt amazing after a long day, and she couldn't help but sigh into his touch.
"What time is the movie?"
Scott checked his phone. "In about 20 minutes, if we want to catch the trailers."
They finished their ice creams, got Wybie cleaned up once more because he'd managed to make a mess of himself again, and made their way to the theatre. As they walked, Scott offered, "Do you want to go on my shoulders, bud? You could be really, really tall if you rode on my shoulders."
He held out his arms, wiggling his fingers in an inviting gesture, and the boy immediately reached for his best friend. Wybie climbed up onto Scott's shoulders, his face beaming with joy at his newfound height and his tiny hands gripping Scott's dark hair for balance.
It was too cute for Y/N to handle, and she pulled out her phone to take a picture of the two of them. It would soon become her phone background.
The movie was a breezy and easy animated film that was colourful enough to get Wybie's attention and simple enough for him to understand without getting bored. As it began, the boy crawled into Scott's lap and seemed as if he wasn't moving any time soon and Y/N let her head rest against his shoulder as the lights dimmed and the film began.
If he was honest, Scott would have to admit that his eyes got a little misty. Both L/N's, one on either shoulder, was nestled against him like he was their overgrown teddy bear. Which he kinda was at this point.
"You okay?" Y/N whispered and while she didn't get a verbal response, he squeezed her closer and pressed his lips to her temple. It was a valid answer.
Other than the occasional fidgeting by Wybie as he tried to get comfortable, the movie played without incident. It was so peaceful, in fact, that Y/N fully fell asleep during the first 20 minutes.
Wybie turned to point something out to his mother but was shushed by his buddy before he could wake her. Y/N clearly needed to nap so Scott was going to ensure she got one. If it was for ten minutes or the whole run time, he didn't care as long as she got some rest.
"Hey bud, let mama sleep," he whispered, gently stroking Wybie's back to soothe him.
The movie was nearly over when Y/N awoke and looked around with bleary eyes, trying to remember where she was before catching Scott's gaze. He didn't say anything; he simply raised an eyebrow and grinned.
"What did I miss?"
"Honestly, I have no idea. I don't think there was an actual plotline to this movie, it was just lots of loud noises and bright lights." He chuckled softly. "But it kept Wybie entertained, which is the main thing, right?"
"Right."
All too soon, the credits began to roll and it was time to go home to have dinner and settle down for the night. Scott had recently bought a car seat so they didn't have to switch Y/N's one back and forth, and though it was just something he bought online, it seemed like a big step towards him being a permanent part of Wybie's life. It was a plastic seat, a few metal mechanisms, and a fitted cushion, but to Scott, it was a promise of being able to take care of the little boy.
Scott lifted Wybie into his seat to secure him in with practiced ease. "Alright, big guy. All strapped in and ready to go home?"
"Yes!"
And then they were at Y/N's place for the rest of the evening.
"Hey, baby, do you wanna help mama with the cooking? Or do you wanna play with your figurines with Scotty?" she asked, brushing her hand down the back of his head.
Wybie thought for a moment, then answered with two simple words: "Play figures."
Of course, she thought fondly, knowing full well that any opportunity to spend time with a) his superhero figurines and b) the man who bought them, Wybie was going to take. Y/N patted Scott right on the pectoral muscle and joked, "Good luck, you're on toy duty now."
She was rewarded with a chuckle and Scott urged Wybie to go on and get the toys ready, which the boy was more than willing to do. The man let his hand drift down to his girlfriend's ass, and it stayed there for the entirety of the kiss they shared in the doorway. It was quick and fleeting, but the passion was unmistakable. Y/N pulled away with a flushed face and a dreamy smile, her hand resting on Scott's chest for a moment before she asked an important question.
"Do you want to stay the night?"
This was a definite step. He knew that. They'd taken things slow - mostly for Wybie's sake - and this was something he should've considered fully, but he was a simple man when it came down to it. His girlfriend who he wanted to spend every minute with wanted to spend more time with him?
Sign him up.
He didn't need to think about his answer.
"Yeah. You sure, though?"
"Yeah. Are you sure?"
Scott squeezed her ass before responding, his grin playful. "And miss out on all this? No way."
Y/N slapped his hands away before he child had to witness his mother's ass getting fondled, but was enticed into another kiss. She was just about to walk into the kitchen when her arm was tugged back to her boyfriend and was pulled into a passionate kiss that she wasn't expecting and yet Y/N melted into, her arms wrapping around his neck as he deepened the kiss.
"Scotty! I ready!"
They pulled apart, though it felt like trying to pull gorilla glue off their lips to fully move away from each other. Still, Scott didn't resist the urge to nuzzle his nose against hers as she teased, "Duty calls."
"No lookin' at my ass when I walk away."
"I would never! I'm too busy tryin' to ogle your boobs." She reached up to squeeze his pectorals. "They're probably bigger than mine."
"They are not."
"Oh, but they are, though."
"Stop groping me!"
"You started it," Y/N laughed, fully pushing him away and walking into the kitchen. "Now go before my baby gets grumpy."
Soon, the living room was filled with sound effects and silly voices and the kitchen was mostly silent, other than the occasional metallic ping of a pan and the sigh of a woman trying to ignore that her very hot boyfriend had just done hot boyfriend things.
They ate, they played around some more, and then it was bedtime for Wybie. The little tyke had exhausted all his energy from his play date with Scott and was more than ready to crash for the night. He'd been curled up with his temple resting against his mother's collarbone as he tried to fight his eyes closing and the fact that such a lovely day was over.
It was annoyingly cute.
"I think it's time for beddy-byes, Wybie," Y/N cooed softly, her fingers combing through the boy's messy locks. "If you go to sleep now, tomorrow will come a lot faster, and tomorrow is going to be so much fun too."
Wybie didn't need much more convincing. The little tyke used the last remainder of his energy to shuffle onto Scott's lap to give him a hug before heading off to bed. His tiny hand reached up to pat Scott's cheek as he said, "Night night."
The man gently cupped the back of Wybie's head and kissed his forehead. "Sweet dreams, buddy."
Y/N lifted Wybie into her arms and cradled him close as she carried him to his room then gently tucked him into bed.
"Night, mama."
"Good night, baby. I love you."
The house grew quiet as Y/N returned to the living room and flopped down next to Scott on the couch. His arm immediately came around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, where she nuzzled into his chest and exhaled.
"How are you always so warm?" She mumbled, her words muffled against his shirt.
The heat from his body was a welcome comfort after the day's events. He was like a human space heater - which wasn't exactly surprising, given his physique.
"I'm just so hot and sexy, that's why."
Instead of responding with some retort, Y/N simply rolled her eyes as she shuffled onto his lap. His statement, no matter how playfully cocky, was true, after all. Still, she didn't need to fuel his ego any further.
And, well, when he looked up at her like she was the most important thing in the world, with those deep blue eyes locked on her and only her, it was far too tempting to capitalize on the moment.
She started running her forefinger down his neck until she reached the buttons on his shirt and slowly began undoing them one by one. All Scott did was watch with rapt attention, his breath catching slightly as she exposed more of his chest. Once she reached the bottom, she spread his shirt open to run her hands up his sculpted torso.
Then, they got a reminder that there was another person in the house and being so horny out in the open wasn't the best idea as a door moving could be heard. The couple froze in place in an instant.
"I probably left his door open. It creaks sometimes," she explained in a hushed voice. "I'll just check really quick."
Scott stayed on the couch as Y/N quickly slipped off his lap and padded to Wybie's room to find him sound asleep. The little boy was curled up under his blanket, one hand clutching his teddy bear and the other dangling off the side of the bed as he snored and snored and snored.
Thank fuck, she thought. Wybie didn't need to see the horniness on display. That would scar him for life, surely.
As she returned to the living room, Y/N held her hand to help Scott to his feet before tugging him towards her bedroom, and the moment they were behind closed doors, she was pinned up against the wood. Her hands fisted in his hair as he captured her lips with a level of passion that he had no idea he'd possessed.
Scott loomed above her, his muscular frame blocking out the dim light filtering through the curtains as he gazed down at her, his eyes dark with lust and his breathing unsteady.
"You're a total MILF," he joked, but it really wasn't a joke at all. She was a mother he'd like to fuck, and the tent in his underwear made that quite clear.
She hit him on the shoulder, trying to act annoyed but her breath hitched when his thumb grazed her clothed clit and any sense of mock annoyance was quickly forgotten. Scott lowered his mouth to her collarbone, peppering kisses along her collarbone as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her bottoms and began to slowly drag them down her thighs.
As the fabric reached her knees, he lifted his gaze to meet hers with a silent question in his eyes. Are you sure? We can wait; do you want to? Do you need a moment? Scott was asking permission in his own way, and she gave it to him with a small nod. He grinned before resuming his descent as he removed her panties completely and discarded them.
He paused for a moment to admire the view, taking in every inch of her before getting into it.
It was going to be a long night. He was going to make sure of it.
By the time they were satisfied, the clock read 3:42 AM. Scott was sprawled across the bed with his arm draped around Y/N and his face buried in her hair as he slowly came down from his high. The sheets were tangled around their bodies, and sweat still glistened on their skin. Neither of them could be bothered to move all that much - other than to dispose of the condom and dress in their pj's just in case Wybie decided to wander in while they slept - and were content to simply lie there in post-coital bliss.
"When was the last time you..." Scott asked quietly as he absently traced patterns on Y/N's back with his fingers.
"Probably when I got pregnant. It's been a while." She sighed, then a flare of insecurity appeared and she had to inquire, "Could you tell?"
"Yeah." He hurried to soothe, "Not that you were bad. No. No way. Just, I guess, it seemed as if you knew the moves but hadn't used the muscle in a long time. Does that make sense?"
She laughed softly and cuddled closer, nuzzling into his chest. "Yeah, that makes sense. It's like riding a bike."
"You were definitely ridin' something."
A half hearted smack hit his shoulder at that. The conversation lulled for a moment, and Y/N yawned into her boyfriend's shoulder.
"Let's sleep now, huh?" Scott kissed the top of her head, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair. "I'll play with your hair until you're out, how about that?"
"Sounds good. Thank you, honey."
She was fast asleep within minutes since the gentle rhythm of Scott's fingers working through her hair had a lullaby-like effect on her. And once he was sure she was fully asleep, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before letting his own eyelids drop.
Far too early for either of their liking, Wybie came barrelling into the room, practically bouncing off the bed and onto Y/N. She woke with a start, looking dazed and confused at the small boy climbing on top of her. Wybie didn't seem to realise that his mother wasn't alone as he wiggled his way under the covers and bumped his head on Scott's arm.
"Ow, bud," Scott groaned and Wybie's eyes grew wide as he noticed his mother's company. His small face lit up with a grin and he clapped his hands together excitedly.
"Scotty!"
Y/N pleaded, "Not so loud please, baby."
Wybie ignored his mother and immediately clambered onto Scott, attempting to hug him with all his might. Scott groaned as Wybie's elbow jabbed him in the ribs with an 'oof'.
"Wyborne, be gentle. Scotty might be big but he's not made of steel."
"Sorry, Scotty," Wybie mumbled as he settled down in the very little space between the couple. He looked up at his mother with a sweet smile.
"La-z-e day?"
"You want a lazy day?"
If she was honest, she could've squealed with joy if she had enough energy to do so. A day doing absolutely nothing sounded perfect right about now, but as all mothers know, if you show too much enthusiasm for something, the child will inevitably change their mind about the whole thing.
She tried to maintain a neutral expression as she replied, "Yeah, I guess we could do that."
And with those words, Wybie got comfortable.
"Mama just needs the bathroom. Do you want me to get you anything while I'm up? Some water? Orange juice?"
"Just wanna snuggle."
"I'm sure Scott can help with that." Y/N kissed her son on the forehead before slipping out of bed. "You need anything, honey?"
Scott didn't realise she was talking to him at first but eventually responded, "Water would be great."
As Y/N made her way to the bathroom, Wybie started jabbering away to Scott, who tried his best to understand and respond despite the fact his brain hadn't fully woken up yet.
"Mama happy," Wybie concluded, and if Scott was honest, that was the only part of the boy's ramble he actually made out.
"Yeah, mama does seem happy."
"Scotty do."
The words caught in Scott's throat as he realized what Wybie was saying. Now, a two year old isn't as attune to emotions as an adult, but Wybie's innocent statement had struck a chord. It was a fact: Y/N did seem happier these days. She was less flustered at work, her smile came easier and more often, and even though she was still busy and tired, it was a different kind of tired.
Before he could come up with anything, Wybie wiggled even closer and patted Scott's cheek, as if to reassure him.
"You stay, Scotty."
Scott wrapped an arm around Wybie, holding him close as he tried to articulate his feelings. "Yeah, I'll stay. I'm not going anywhere, buddy."
A few minutes later, Y/N returned to the bedroom with a couple of water bottles. She set them on the nightstand before sliding back into bed and cuddling up to her son and boyfriend. "You alright in there, honey?"
Scott grunted and nuzzled into her hair, while Wybie yawned and nestled into the crook of his arm. They spent the next hour like that, a quiet sort of comfort in their little pile as they dipped between wakefulness and slumber for the rest of the morning.
Well, until Wybie got bored and wanted to start another adventure.
Next Chapter ->
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Story Summary -> Bob returns from a mission and beelines to the cafe his girlfriend works at, only for one of her coworkers to plant a seed of insecurity in her head that threatens to disrupt their peaceful and completely ordinary night.
A request for @adriansboyfriend. I hope you enjoy!
Bob Reynolds had a girlfriend.
Admittedly, it was still fairly new, but he'd never really had a functional, stable relationship before so it felt like the most important thing ever, and maybe it was. He was learning how to survive with someone by his side and, even he had to admit, that he was pretty damn good at the whole thing.
It just felt so natural to him in the day to day. Whether that was due to him having some innate romantic skill or simply due to Y/N being the perfect person was a question he didn't need answered. It didn't matter; all that he cared about was that she was happy and healthy and wanted to be around him.
That made him happy. They do say happy wife, happy life. And though they weren't married (yet, he hoped), he knew that was a true sentiment.
Being a (New) Avenger often caused his schedule to be hectic and unpredictable, but he made sure to set aside quality time for her whenever he could. His mental health, too, was a factor they had to be cognisant of due to his powers and they frequently did check-ins and self-care sessions together.
Y/N had been a huge help with that aspect of his life. Obviously, she wouldn't be able to soothe every part of his brain and disorders don't disappear as soon as you fall in love, yet his symptoms seemed more manageable, easier to handle. There was something about having her support, even if she couldn't always be there physically, that made a world of difference.
Most of their focus was usually on his stability, which makes sense when factoring in the fact that his alter ego tried to wipe out Manhattan last time he was depressed, but Y/N was human too. She had needs and worries of her own that she sometimes forgot - or chose to put on the back burner - to address in the midst of helping him.
Bob arrived home from a mission a little before noon one day and decided to surprise his girlfriend at work. It killed two birds with one stone: he'd spent quality time with her, and the cafe she worked at did the best pain au chocolates he'd ever tasted.
For a moment, he was content to just observe her from afar. Her hair was messy, as always, she looked tired, and her apron stained with coffee spills, but there was a gentle curve to her lips as she helped an elderly woman with a confused order. He loved watching her like this - focused, efficient, caring. The way she gently held the woman's hand while explaining the menu options, the patient smile she offered even though she was clearly exhausted from her shift, that's what made Y/N Y/N.
He finally approached, taking her in for one last appreciative glance before stepping up to the counter. "Hi there. I'll have a pain au chocolate and a caramel latte, please," he ordered with a grin.
She turned at the familiar voice and immediately rounded the till to greet him properly. As she got close, she noticed that he looked a little worse for wear too, mostly thanks to the black eye he was sporting. Her concern must've been visible on her face, and her hand unconsciously went to his cheek.
"I take it the serum hasn't healed me yet?" He asked, chuckling softly. "I'm fine. Really, it's nothing."
Despite his attempts to downplay it, she retreated into the back room for a second and came back with a bag of ice for his injury. It was unlikely that ice would help in any way - he had the powers of a literal god so whatever managed to actually harm him was going to take more than a bag of frozen water - but the gesture was sweet and he accepted it with a grateful smile.
"Thank you," Bob said, placing the bag of ice against his cheek. "I think you have a customer."
She followed his gaze and realized he was right. A man had come in while they were talking and was waiting impatiently at the other end of the counter, so she plastered on a smile and got to work.
"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. What can I get for you today?"
The man's order took several minutes to complete, with him being particularly fussy about his drink specifications. And then Y/N returned to her boyfriend armed with a pain au chocolat and a caramel latte that Bob accepted with a warm smile, but before he took a sip, he bent down to kiss her on the lips.
"Missed you," he murmured, setting the bag of ice down to free up his hands and moving his order from her hands to the table. It was easier to prove how much he missed her by cradling her face like she was precious porcelain, his thumbs brushing gently across her cheekbones.
"You've been gone for three days."
"Yup, and it was three of the longest days of my life."
She chuckled as they pulled apart. "I've got 45 minutes left of my shift and then I'm all yours," Y/N said, giving him a pat on the pectoral before stepping back to the counter so her manager would yell at her for fucking around.
Bob was happy to sit by the window and watch the world go by while he sipped his coffee. It was a peaceful spot where he could easily divert his attention to the bustling street outside and his beautiful girlfriend working inside. His hand was resting on the coffee table, and as his fingers absently drummed against the surface, he realised that he was content. Fully, truly satisfied for what might be the first time in his life.
Being The Sentry for real had been awkward at first. He'd still been getting to grips with his powers and existing sober and being surrounded by people who genuinely wanted him around, yet after a year or so of being an Avenger, he was getting the hang of it. Not to mention he was learning how to be Bob Reynolds and that's something he'd been neglecting for far too long.
He was calmer these days, more confident too - though, more confident still meant hyping himself to make eye contact with strangers - and he had a strange but stable job and friend group, so he didn't think it would get better than that.
Then, he happened to walk into a random coffee shop one day. It was homey in that hipster cafe way - wooden tables, mismatched sofas, eclectic artwork on the walls, and a book exchange bookcase in the corner.
On that day, as he stood in line, he caught a glimpse of a barista at the counter, her back turned to him and her shift must've been hell because her hair was an absolute mess - the kind of disaster only possible after an entire day of pulling double shifts and the general public being dumbasses (as usual) - and her patience was hanging by a thread. But despite it all, he was hooked.
It took a while for him to get the courage to take the plunge (that, and to quell Yelena's constant pestering) and ask the barista out, but eventually he managed it.
Life was good.
And for some weird reason, he was popular with kids now. Never did Bob Reynolds think that he would be someone that kids, sometimes very little ones, flocked to. There were backpacks and lunchboxes and light up shoes with his face on it emblazoned all over them. He wasn't sure if it was because he looked friendly - especially compared to his teammates - or because he literally glowed sometimes when he used his powers. Whatever the reason, it was strange but not unwelcome.
So when a kid came up to his table as Bob was mid bite into his pastry and tapped him on the shoulder, he was initially surprised. He turned around, mouth still full, and saw a boy about seven or eight with his face set in a determined expression.
"Mr. Sentry?" The boy's voice was soft, and he seemed nervous as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"Hey!" Bob managed around his mouthful, wiping a crumb from his chin. "That's me, but you can call me Bob."
The boy proceeded to ask Bob to sign his Sentry lunchbox, which he eagerly pulled out of his backpack, and squealed with delight when Bob agreed.
"Your boyfriend is popular," Tanya, Y/N's coworker, commented as they watched the display.
"I mean, he's definitely something." Y/N grinned, pride evident in her features as she watched her man signing autographs and posing for selfies with an ever-growing group of excited kids.
"Is it weird dating a god?"
Huh. She'd never thought about it like that. Bob was just... Bob to her.
It never occurred to her to see him as something other. He wasn't wearing his costume today, so there was nothing overtly heroic about him. He looked like any other man in his late twenties - a bit scruffy, a bit rumpled, with the beginnings of a beard and hair that always seemed to have a mind of its own. No, he wasn't a god to her. He was divine, but not a god.
"No. He's just a guy." Y/N shrugged.
"No fuckin' way. I don't believe that," Tanya scoffed, leaning against the counter. "He's a god damned Avenger. And he's dating you. Do you even realize how lucky you are?"
Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but Tanya continued, "Like, they famously only date each other and spies and high ranking officials and billionaires and shit like that."
"...Okay."
"And you're a barista?! Girl, you lucked out hard." Tanya punctuated her point with a firm poke to Y/N's arm.
"I guess," Y/N mumbled, shifting her weight as she thought about it. It was an interesting way to look at it, and not one she'd ever considered before.
"It's crazy. Literally everyone thought he and the White Widow were dating, but I guess not."
"Yelena is his best friend."
"Sure, that's what they said about Cap and Black Widow and they definitely fucked at least once."
Humming because she had no idea what to reply with, Y/N turned back to the task at hand, but she couldn't shake the conversation from her mind. The last stretch of her shift felt like it dragged on forever as she thought about what it meant to be dating a goddamn Avenger.
And why, oh why, in a world full of people who were hotter, smarter, more important and interesting, had he chosen her? It was an unsettling question that had firmly found a place in her head and was not going to be easily dismissed.
"Hey, you all done?" Bob asked over the top of some four year old's head as soon as he saw her walk up.
"Yeah, all ready."
If he took notice of her tired tone, he didn't mention it. He bid goodbye to the crowd of younglings and their parents before walking over to where she was waiting.
"Rough shift?"
"A little," Y/N admitted, trying to force a smile.
Bob reached out and gently wiped away a stray hair that had fallen across her face. "I think we both need a night in front of the TV and some takeout."
When he said things like that - beautiful, mundane things - she almost forgot that he was something more.
"That sounds really nice."
Bob insisted on carrying Y/N's bag as they walked home, his other hand laced with hers and his thumb absently stroking the back of her hand. He gave her a brief rundown of the mission he'd been on that morning, keeping it vague enough that it wouldn't be all the gory details yet he definitely blabbed more than he was allowed to.
Y/N was only half listening. She was trying to pay attention, of course, yet her mind kept drifting back to that conversation with Tanya. Why had Bob chosen her, out of all the people in the world? Especially when he'd met some extraordinary people.
"Hey, earth to Y/N." Bob gently nudged her with his elbow as they walked up the steps to her apartment building. "Where'd you go just now? You're a million miles away."
"Nowhere, I'm right here."
"Sweetheart," he whispered, the pet name still a little unfamiliar on his tongue. Bob guided her into an elevator and squished her into a hug, his lips pressed against her temple.
"I'm okay. I'm just thinking."
He pulled back, studying her intently with those big, beautiful eyes of his. "Thinking about what?"
She could tell the truth. Yet, that would make him worry and fuss and try to talk her out of whatever doubts she was having. Instead, she settled for a half-truth.
"Just thinkin' about how cute you look today."
As someone who wasn't used to compliments - genuine ones from people he loved, at least - he turned red and got all dopey with a shy smile and an amused huff escaping him.
"Aw, come on. I look like a mess."
"A hot mess, then."
To top off her comments, Y/N raised herself onto her tiptoes to peck his lips. The elevator light flickered due to his flustered state as he returned the kiss, and it looked as if they were having a rave for a few moments before they separated.
It sufficiently distracted him. Bob still got a little dopey and bug eyed whenever they kissed. It was cute, far too cute, and was useful in situations where she wanted to change the subject. Sure, it was a little manipulative but better that than him getting concerned about what was really on her mind.
Once inside her apartment, Bob headed straight for the couch, sinking into it with a heavy sigh and patting the spot next to him. Y/N settled beside him, snuggling into his side and draping her arm across his chest.
He rested his cheek on top of her head, both of them comfortable in the familiar quiet that surrounded them. After a few moments, Bob reached for the remote and switched on the TV, flipping through channels until he found a rerun of a cooking show that they'd seen before.
"This is making me hungry," he joked as he absentmindedly stroked her arm.
"Takeout?"
"Takeout."
Within the hour, they were stuffing their faces with takeout and making a mess on the couch, laughing and chatting about nonsense. Y/N found herself watching Bob as he talked, noticing the small details - the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the way he absentmindedly scratched at his scruff, the way he always made sure to share his food with her even when she insisted she was full.
He caught her staring. "Do I have something on my face?"
"No, I'm just admiring the view."
The words came out exactly as they were intended - flippant and lighthearted - yet her expression didn't seem to get the memo. As soon as the sentence ended, Y/N mouth drooped into a frown.
"Hey." Bob reached over and gently cupped her face. "I'm fine. I'm oka-"
"Baby." He set their food on the coffee table and lifted her onto his lap so that she was straddling him, his hands moving to rest on her hips. "What's really going on in that head of yours? You've been acting strange all day."
"It's nothing."
"Not nothing. Tell me."
There was no point in denying it; Bob was right.
"It's stupid."
"Yeah? Well, so am I."
"You're not stupid," Y/N automatically said, indignation flashing through her at the idea of calling him stupid.
"Tell that to the Florida school system."
She couldn't help but laugh at that, but it quickly faded into a heavy sigh. "You go on these dangerous missions and meet with so many amazing people all the time. And then you come home to me."
If he was honest, he still couldn't figure out what the issue was. She had said something true. He did encounter a lot of remarkable people and sometimes fought them, and yes, the first thing he wanted to do when he got back was go straight to Y/N. This was correct on every count, so what was the problem?
"Yeah."
"Why me?"
Ah.Right. Now he got it.
Though he'd never said it before, Bob had a four word sentence that answered her worries in one easy to understand phrase.
"Because I love you."
Y/N was stunned. Absolutely stunned to silence. Bob's eyes were locked intensely on hers, searching for understanding as he gently wiped away a stray tear that had formed at the corner of her eye.
"I don't understand."
"When we met I was this bumbling, nervous, socially awkward idiot who couldn't even look you in the eye. You were this beautiful, confident woman who could hold a conversation and make me feel normal, just for a little while."
He smiled softly and hoped that she understood what he was saying.
"But you're an Avenger."
"Yes."
"And I'm a barista."
"Right. I don't see what you're getting at."
Now that she had to voice these concerns out loud, she noticed how flimsy they sounded. Couples usually have different jobs. That's normal and doesn't really affect how they feel about each other. So what if she was a barista and he was an Avenger? Why does it matter?
"So you don't want to date a super flexible, super cool super spy?" Y/N asked, the words sounding sillier by the second. "You want to be with someone who is completely ordinary and has never been in a fight before?"
He couldn't help but laugh a little, but the answer was a resounding "Yeah."
It was a simple answer. She was ordinary, and that's a great thing to be. Being ordinary meant being steady, reliable, consistent. It meant being the type of person who would always be there, no matter what, ready to support and love no matter what life threw at you. It meant being the type of person who could build a life, a home, with someone else.
And Bob wanted that. More than he wanted to be cool or interesting or powerful, he wanted to be someone's partner, someone's love, someone's everything. More specifically, Y/N's everything.
He gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes held a depth of emotion - a promise, a question, and a challenge.
"I want you."
Y/N let out a breath.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
She confirmed with a firm nod and a genuine smile finally spreading across her face as she leaned in to meet him in a tender kiss. One that Bob returned eagerly, his hands sliding up her back to pull her closer as he deepened the kiss. The takeout on the coffee table was forgotten and left to get cold as they lost themselves in the moment, making out to their heart's content.
The light flickered, but neither of them noticed this time.
Y/N pulled back first, breathless and smiling softly as she looked into Bob's eyes. "I love you too."
"Yeah?" She nodded. "Awesome."
*Click here for my masterlist*
For the rest of the night the pair decided to show just how much they truly loved each other. It was guaranteed to get them a noise complaint.
Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!
If you enjoyed my work and feel like fuelling the next one, here's my Buy Me a Coffee link - buymeacoffee.com/bippot. Entirely optional, always appreciated.
What's your next fic?! And perchance when is it coming out? I goooota know.
My next fic is a Bob Reynolds request for @adriansboyfriend that I am about halfway through. As for a time frame, I hope by the end of next week. I've been rather busy this past month, so finding time to write has been hard, but I hope that it will be done soon.
I was going to make the 'you can't just say perchance' joke, but you used it correctly, so congrats.
Update 6/5/2026 - It just came out. You can read it here if you wish.
Helloooo I just read your Scott miller fic series and LOVEDDD ITTT. And was wondering if youâre gonna post any more parts because I just love your writing and their story soo much <3
I am! My life is a bit busy at the moment, so I'm a bit slow these days. The next chapter is mostly written, and I do plan for one or two chapters after that. So... yeah! Another is coming, but you may have to wait
Hi, I've read some of your fics and they're great, and I was sure I was following you, but I guess not, hehe. I'm following you now, though. đ
I'd like to request a fanfic about Adrian Chase. It's about a girl who's blind and wears red glasses. She starts working at Checkmate. She's a good hacker, and Adrian thinks that because she's blind she's defenseless (I think that's something he would believe), so he protects her from everyone and everything. But one night at a bar, someone tries to mug her, and Adrian is about to intervene and protect her, but she proves to be a good fighter (kind of like Daredevil). Adrian is impressed and now he likes her even more. She might be cold and serious at first, but she's actually fun. She also likes Adrian, but she doesn't show it much. It could be a slow-burn story with a happy ending. I hope you understand my crazy idea. Thanks. đ»đ§ââïž
The Devil of Evergreen
Story Summary -> When the new hacker starts at Checkmate, Adrian makes it his duty to be her dog. Her guide dog, specifically, as the newbie happens to be blind and he uses everything he's learnt from movies and comics to make sure his damsel in distress is safe. Whether she actually is a damsel, well, that's another thing entirely.
Tags -> Blindness, Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Adrian Chase Being Adrian Chase, Protective Adrian Chase, daredevil!reader, Coworkers to Lovers, Clingy Adrian Chase
Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!
Checkmate desperately needed a new hacker. John, as skilled as he was, could only do so much, and ever since the company had begun to take on multiple jobs at once, he needed to be in so many places at once. There were so many jobs. Crises were popping up all across the country - hell, the world - and someone needed to handle it. Someone like Checkmate.
That, however, was a problem. They were a small team. There was no way that 7 people could do all that, especially since most of their jobs involved a technical aspect and Economos could only be in one place at a time. He was always needed for something, always travelling from place to place, back and forth, until he was hanging by a thread and whining to anyone who would listen.
It was simply too much for Economos to handle.
And since he'd rather exhaust himself than admit his own limitations, Economos decided to reach out to an old buddy of his only after he'd had a very public breakdown where he called Harcourt "a dog fart in the shape of a human", ran away so she couldn't attack him, and collided with the side of his desk. He'd managed to hit his crotch on the corner, and that shocked him so hard that he released the loudest (non-dog) fart they'd ever heard.Â
Peacemaker still thought about it. He'd get all snuggled in bed and let his mind drift; every time, it returned to that moment. Chris would lie there and giggle to himself until he fell asleep.
But once Harcourt had gotten over that weird insult, she gave Economos the go-ahead to finally - fucking finally - find someone to help him carry the load.
He'd been rather tight-lipped about the whole thing. The team had concluded that this lack of communication about the new recruit stemmed from some insecurity within John, who thought he'd be teased about his need for help. There are a lot of things to make fun of John for; the fact that he's human was not one of them.
Shocking yourself mid-mental breakdown by ripping ass definitely was, though.
They came to realise that Economos may have kept his cards close to his chest for other reasons as soon as they met the new girl. The idiots on their team - Fleury, Peacemaker, and Vigilante (and Judomaster whenever he wanted to be a little shit) - would have been insufferable if they knew beforehand, and it would've been the only thing they spoke of.
Because they're idiots and get hung up on anything they find even remotely unorthodox or out of the norm, they would've gone crazy to find out that Y/N, the new girl, was blind. Adrian would be especially annoying as he would have so many questions, go home and do research, then come back to work with even more.Â
And John didn't know the answers. Of course he would have no idea. He didn't have the balls to ask her anything regarding her disability just in case he said something insensitive and she'd never want to help him ever again. It was easier to pretend that he wasn't curious about the whole thing.
To anyone who doesn't know much about blind people or hasn't been around many, there's this preconception of incompetence. It is usually not out of any kind of malice, usually the opposite, but they assume the person can't do things because they can't see, and surely you need to be able to see a screen to be a hacker.
1986. The IBM Screen Reader. Jim Thatcher.Â
He changed that. Without him, Y/N would never have got a job. It sounds simple, really. Create a system that reads what's on the display to you, but it was revolutionary, and at this point in her life, Y/N was a jedi master when it came down to it, especially if a braille terminal was involved. 450â600 words per minute without batting an eye.
She could process information like it was nobody's business, and since she had to have every bit of code memorised, she had the ability to find and exploit weaknesses in any given system with the precision of a scalpel. Y/N was the most qualified person for the job, but John was also subjecting her to... them. The idiots. He had intended to feel guilty about that later. Right now, he just needed help.
What he didn't expect, however, was Adrian. Economos thought Vigilante would be like a bouncy little terrier - loud and proud - when first being introduced to Y/N. He wasn't sure if he'd just gotten lucky or if there was something else at play, but Vigilante's initial reaction to Y/N was subdued. Polite, almost flustered.
It wasn't as if she were intimating in any way. Y/N L/N walked into HQ with red-tinted glasses perched on her nose, her cane tapping the floor in a steady rhythm, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing about her screamed, 'hey, be afraid to talk to me,' and yet, Vigilante seemed at a loss for words. His eyes kept flicking between her face and his shoes, as if looking at her for too long was physically paining him.
Adebayo clocked it immediately. It wasn't uncommon for Adrian to have trouble processing new experiences, especially social ones, but he usually became brash and overly enthusiastic to compensate. This... this was new.
Emilia and John greeted the new arrival and soon whisked her away into the office to discuss the terms of her employment and fill her in on everything John had forgotten. Then, once they were out of the area, Leota nudged Adrian.
"Hey, you good?"
"Do I smell weird?" He replied.
Leota sniffed him. At this point, they had spent enough time together during some very weird missions that there was an unwanted but learned comfort with each other. If he wanted her to sniff him, she was so used to him that Leota knew that the path of least resistance (or whining, in Adrian's case) was the best course of action.
"Nah, you're good."Â
"Good. Good. I read that the blind have, like, super senses. There's this comic -"Â
"Oh no," Bordeaux sighed.
Adebayo incredulously asked, "Are you talking about fucking Daredevil?"
Adrian flinched, realising he'd made a faux pas. He'd thought bringing up a fictional blind person would make him seem more knowledgeable about the whole, but that was not the case. "I was just trying to educate myself," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.
Fleury smiled, all teasing and strangely fond. "You are such a nerd."
"Eat a dick."
"Why would I do that? That doesn't seem appealing at all."
"I dunno, but there's a man walking around with no penis and it's your fault. Cause you gobbled it all up, and now you're full of dick."
Chris couldn't help himself and joined in on the argument. "Oh, like being full of dick is a bad thing? Some people enjoy it."
"Don't make this into a gay thing."
"Why not? What's wrong with gays?" Leota added, crossing her arms across her chest.
It devolved from there. Then, the office door opened, and everyone just stopped, stopped talking, stopped breathing mid-word. Their collective gazes snapped to the doorway where Y/N stood with a slightly raised eyebrow and a look that seemed to see straight through them. They scrambled to compose themselves and present themselves in a more professional manner.
"Don't stop on my account."
Ah, so she had heard.
Before Adrian could make a sound, Leota held her hand over his mouth and held it there.
One by one, Economos introduced the gang to Y/N, starting with Judomaster, then Fleury, then Adebayo, then Bordeaux, then Peacemaker, and finally Vigilante. Adrian was buzzing with energy and dying to release his awkwardness but being firmly held back by Leota's iron grip.Â
"What's the wriggling one's name?" Y/N asked, and she pointed her cane directly at Adrian. Leota reluctantly let go of his mouth and he quickly cleared his throat because now was not the time for his voice to fail him. He was so used to yapping his mouth off that being silenced - by his own brain - felt foreign.
Vigilante's brain felt frozen, and his mouth opened and closed several times before any sound actually came out.Â
"It's, uh, Adrian."
That got major side eyes from the rest of the team. Y/N didn't seem bothered by him, but she did catch a whiff of something that was not entirely unpleasant, just out of place.
"Someone smells a lot like oregano."
Adrian mumbled under his breath, "Fuckin' Fennel Fields."
Like the universe hated him, the only available desk was right next to Adrian - yeah, it was the universe's fault and not Adrian's supernatural ability to distract whoever was sitting near him just by looking at them. The moment she perched her cute lil' butt down and started to set up her workstation, Adrian was drawn to her. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes were fixed on her every movement. It wasn't in a leering way (well, not entirely); he genuinely seemed fascinated by her.
"You're staring, weirdo," Y/N pointed out dryly, not looking up from her screen reader.Â
"Sorry, sorry." Adrian stammered and quickly looked away, but his eyes kept darting back to her. He cleared his throat again and attempted to strike up a conversation. "So, uh, do you need any help?"
"Why? Cause I'm blind?"
"No! I mean, yes, you are. And you know that."
"I do."
"Yeah, of course. Yeah, of course you do. I mean, not that you would need... Or couldn't... Fuck."Â
"Is the fact that I'm disabled a problem for you?"
"NO! No!" Adrian panicked, nearly toppling out of his chair. "I just wanted to help!"
A wicked grin overtook her face. "I'm fucking with you, Adrian. Relax."Â
She reached across the desk and tapped his arm reassuringly, but there was no denying the fact that she was openly laughing at him at his discomfort. The other team members were also struggling to contain their amusement, especially Rip, whose favourite pastime was fucking with Adrian. Which she soon found out was so easy to do, as he was earnestly clueless and easy to trick, and she had managed to pick the perfect victim to ragebait within an hour of meeting him.Â
Having a free source of entertainment at work was a blessing.
If she was honest, it was kind of cute. How he wore all his feelings on his sleeve, even though he refused to admit it. How he was so willing to be the punching bag because it meant that people were interacting with him and giving him attention. She'd never seen someone so furiously happy to be picked on, and something about that made her soften towards him.Â
And he was helpful; he'd decided that early on. It was his duty to protect her from any thug, uneven floor, or table corner because obviously she would need help. He was going to be her guide, her arm to hold, her eyes to see through, and all that patronising shit that he was too dense to understand was demeaning and unnecessary.Â
Despite Adrian's well-meaning but condescending intentions, he had another reason for offering himself as her protector: he hoped that by showing his good side, he could win over the prettiest girl he had ever seen and endear her to him.Â
Whatever.Â
It was a stupid idea anyway.
Yeah.
Unless?
His personality was an acquired taste, he knew that. In his adult life he'd been told that it had ruined the romantic vibe or lady boner or male boner or they/them boner or... well, you get the picture, but his face and body were perceived as attractive. He'd worked hard for these muscles and, yeah, maybe he still looked like a dweeb, but some people are into that, and that was what did most of the heavy lifting in his romantic life.
Admittedly, it was a very limited romantic life. Especially since he didn't consider himself to be romantic at all. Fuck no, he's too badass for that.Â
But Y/N wouldn't care about that. What he looked like wouldn't matter to her, so he was already starting the race with his shoelaces welded together and would have to try twice as hard to get her to like him. He had no idea if she had a guide dog at home, but soon there would be no need for it. Adrian was going to take its place and send that pooch straight back to the pound because Y/N wouldn't need it once he came into her life. He could do everything that dog could do and more. Why not get more bang for your buck?Â
All he wanted in payment was some head scratches and to occasionally be called a good boy - both in a reassuring and sexy way; is that too much to ask for?
Tell that imaginary labrador to fuck off!
So, his main method was helpfulness, and this was both a help and a hindrance. Adrian offered to get Y/N a coffee, to walk her to the bathroom, to hold the door open for her, to help carry her things. He tried so hard to be helpful that he was practically tripping over himself. He would run across the office to do little favours for her, like getting her a pen or finding a paperclip. Adrian was always ready to assist, even if it wasn't necessary or even if Y/N didn't want it.
"I can walk to the bathroom without help, Adrian. You don't need to escort me everywhere."
"But what if someone tries to take advantage of you while you're alone?"
"...Right. So, which one of our coworkers do you think is going to steal my cane while I take a piss?" She asked with a dry laugh, already knowing the answer to that. Adrian was clearly trying to be her knight in shining armour, but he was more like a clown in tinfoil.Â
Adrian's face reddened as he realised the absurdity of his comment. He opened his mouth to defend himself, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words. "I just thought..." he mumbled before he tried to play it off. "I was going this way anyway."
"Sure you were," Y/N sighed yet couldn't help but smile. He was so obvious in his affection that it was pitiful. "Go sit down."
His shoulders slumped as he trudged back to his desk, feeling deflated and defeated, and he knew that he would only be able to impress her if something dangerous happened. He could step in and save the day then; that was literally everything he'd ever trained for and she wouldn't see a threat coming.
The cherry on top was that they had a mission coming up. In Gotham. Vigilante. Adebayo. Y/N. Together, in Gotham. Y'know, the most fucked-up place ever, where you get shanked for sneezing twice in a row? There were a countless number of threats in Gotham - they do have the highest crime rates in the world but, hey, they're workin' on it. It was perfect! All they'd have to do was step out of the van and she'd immediately be a target.
She had a triple whammy.
If her cane was out, she had an obvious disability.
A pretty face.
And, as far as they knew, a lack of a guide dog that could help defend her. They had no idea that her dog was actually a serial killer with a hero complex and a love of The Muppets.
Yeah, Adrian figured his chance would finally come and that his heroic intervention would be just the thing to win her heart. He barely slept the night before they shipped off and instead crafted an elaborate fantasy where he would swoop in, shield her from a hail of bullets that he willingly took into his own body, and carry her to safety with the knowledge that he'd be completely fine after a quick 8hr nap.Â
In his mind, she would be so impressed that she'd fall into his arms, kiss him passionately, and declare her undying love for him.
As the van pulled up to Gotham City, Adrian was practically vibrating with energy. He positioned himself next to Y/N, ready to act at a moment's notice.Â
"Hey, uh, just wanted to let you know that I've got your back out there, okay?" He tried to sound casual but failed spectacularly.
"Right back at you, Vij."
He was so focused on protecting Y/N that he nearly tripped over a loose piece of concrete as soon as they stepped out. She caught a hold of his arm so he didn't fall on his ass.
Adebayo snorted.
"C'mon, at least one of us should be watching where we're going," she joked, the irony of her 'eyes and ears' failing at the first step not lost on her.Â
Then, just as he had expected, a passerby came running at them with visible malice. Adrian was far too busy thinking about his big moment to step in as the ruffian reached for Y/N's bag.
BANG!
Her cane connected with the thug's knee with devastating force.
"It's good to be home," she quipped as the would-be mugger fell to the ground, howling in pain. Adrian watched in stunned silence because she just handled it without fuss, without flinching, and without his help at all.Â
Surely, it was just a coincidence. If it happened again, he would be ready to swoop in and save the day.
"You're from Gotham?" He asked in shock, completely thrown off his game.
"Born and bred."
She casually shouldered her bag and started walking to their hotel, leaving him scurrying after her.
The mission was a dime a dozen. Vigilante storms his way into a crime den as Adebayo sniped any stragglers on their way out, he found their base of communications and inserted a device so Y/N could access it remotely and retrieve all the data necessary for their client, and boom, done. They executed it as such, and because it had been planned to perfection, they felt the need to celebrate.
"I need a drink," Adebayo said as she dissembled her gun.
"I second that motion," Y/N chimed in over comms as she gathered her things and planned to leave the cafe she'd been hijacking the Wi-Fi in. "Vigilante, you in?"
This was huge. Not only had she respected his wishes to call him by his alter ego whenever they were in earshot of the public, but his crush was asking him to do something outside of work. It was basically a date. Sure, Adebayo was there too, but hey, you gotta start somewhere. He couldn't refuse this opportunity.
"Fuckin' yeah! I'm in!" He replied with way too much enthusiasm.
The hotel bar was the best option. It wasn't the nicest. It didn't have welcoming company. There weren't any rave reviews on YELP. It was close by and it ensured that they weren't suddenly on mob turf. Every single bar or speakeasy or pub or even a bistro, nay, even a cafe was owned by a mob lord.
Black Mask and the Sionis Crime Family.
The Bertinelli Crime Family.
The Falcone Crime Family.
The Maroni Crime Family.
One of the few Triads.
Penguin's Gang.
Two Face.
Take your pick; you're on their turf.
It was dingy, lit by dim bulbs and smelt of spilt beer and desperation, and filled to the brim with Gotham's unsavoury denizens. They sat in a booth in the corner that had a clear view of both the back door and the bar itself for a safe exit and a direct route for more booze.
Leota did most of the talking and, like usual, Adrian did a really bad job at subtly being more interested in what Y/N's reaction was rather than the conversation itself. Y/N mostly just listened and drank her beer, occasionally nodding along or adding a comment here and there, but for the most part, let Leota do all the heavy lifting
From across the room, a "heels and handbag, goin' out back" from a gruff and gravelly voice drew Y/N's attention. It hadn't been a loud statement, just a comment between two people, but if you had particularly good hearing as Y/N did, then it was perfectly audible.Â
Two pairs of boots made their way to the back door.
"I think I'm gonna step outside for a breather." Y/N stood, her posture shifting from relaxed to tense in a microsecond as she pulled out her cane and assembled it. "I won't be long."
"Okay, girl, I'll get us another round," Leota said as she got up to head to the bar, leaving Adrian alone in the booth.
He wouldn't be alone for long, he reasoned. Sure, he was restraining himself; with every breath he was getting closer to following Y/N to the back. No. No. He could do this. He could give her the independence she wanted and needed, even if it made him feel useless.Â
It was just a back alley in Gotham, probably full of garbage and a few stray cats. It was probably fine. Gotham City, the most dangerous place in all America, where you could go from hero to victim in the span of a second. No. He was being silly. Y/N had shown more than once that she could handle herself.
A few minutes passed, and Adrian still felt restless. His brain was a whirlwind.
And then BANG!
Something heavy hit the back door and Adrian shot out of his seat and sprinted towards the exit, knocking over a few patrons in his rush to get outside. The alley was dark and reeked of garbage, and he saw two figures unconscious on the floor right by the exit with bruises as big as golf balls on their faces.Â
Further down the alley stood two women. One was shaking in her heels, her flimsy dress torn, and the other was wiping blood from her hands with a handkerchief
"Do you have money for a cab?" Y/N asked, completely unruffled and without a scratch on her.
"Yeah, uh... yeah," The woman replied with tears in her eyes as she fumbled with her purse, clearly shaken. "Thank you so much. I can't even... how did you - Thank you. Really. Thank you."
"Go home. Get some rest. This wasn't your fault, okay?"
"Y-yeah. Yeah, okay."Â
She stumbled away as fast as her high heels would allow and Y/N turned to Adrian, who had been standing there frozen, mouth agape. He seemed stunned for a moment before he slammed down onto his knees before her.
"You're so hot. You're so, so hot. Like the hottest." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I think you're my dream girl. You're so fucking cool, and I'm sorry for being, like, weird and all hovering, but holy shit, you're like catnip. Like my catnip, but in a sexy and earnest kind of way."
Y/N snorted.
"You're so weird."
His gaze dropped to the floor as a blush burnt on his face. Fuck, he'd ruined it now. Completely and utterly. He'd acted a fool in front of her and now he was going to die alone because nobody would ever come close.Â
Nobody would be as cool.
Nobody would be as hot.
Nobody would be as badass as her.
Then he felt fingers on top of his hair like she was petting him, almost affectionately. He tilted his head up to meet her gaze, still kneeling, and she smiled. Not a smirk or a smile that says, 'I'm about to tease you for this,' but a genuine, warm smile.
"Hey, c'mon, stand up. You'll get your jeans all dirty down there." Y/N gently tugged on his hand to help him up, which he took without hesitation.Â
There was no world where he'd decline holding her hand.
"I thought you were being attacked or something," Adrian said sheepishly.
"And what if I was?" Y/N asked. "Would you have swooped in and saved me?"
He scoffed. "Oh please, you don't need saving. I know that now."
She let go of his hand to gently cup his face, her thumb tracing his cheekbone and down to his chin. "I appreciate the thought, though."Â
"Are you doing that blind-touching-face thing? Cause -"
"I was going to kiss you but you just ruined the moment," Y/N commented with barely hidden mischief, and Adrian's face contorted comically as it went straight over his head.
"What?" He stammered. "But, but, but-"Â
His gaze dropped to her mouth, then back up to her eyes, then back down again. "You should totally, absolutely, 100% kiss me now. Right here. In this gross, smelly alley. Please... pretty please with, like, so many cherries on top and a tonne of cream."
"Buy me dinner and I'll think about it."
Within the hour, the pair had called it a night with Leota, ordered an obscene amount of food, and were settled in Y/N's hotel room. Adrian was counting down the minutes until the meal was over and she would make good on her offer.
After what felt like an eternity, Y/N wiped away her mouth with a napkin and beckoned him closer with just one finger. He practically leapt out of his chair and crossed the distance between them in a single bound, his mouth on hers before she could blink.Â
He poured every ounce of his pent-up longing into the kiss and would continue to do so for the rest of the night. Nay, the rest of his life.
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Before you send anything in, hereâs a quick idea of what youâre signing up for with my writing. I mainly write female reader inserts and prefer to build full narratives rather than quick blurbs, so expect plotlines and usually a few thousand words. I try to keep it above 2 and below 10k, but a girl likes to waffle, okay? Because of that, requests can take a bit of time, but I always get them done as quickly as I can.
I also prefer writing relationships that arenât toxic. While the reader might have a messy or unhealthy past relationship, I personally hate leaving things with a sad ending or with no release of angst. There can be disagreements and fights and such, but I tend to try to reconcile them in the end. Obviously, sometimes this can't be done so this isn't a hard rule at all and may be something that we communicate further about.
As for the characters I will write for, it will be any that I've already written for. If you happen to want something with a character whose media I haven't written for in a while, I may need to tack on some extra time to refamiliarise myself with them.
If you're missing one or whatever, I won't hold it against you.
The character obvi
Preferred tropes/themes and the tone youâre after (fluffy, hurt/comfort, slow burn, comedic)
A basic storyline or concept (even vague is fine; just give me something to work with.)
Whether youâre comfortable with or want spicier content (I will write it, but I sometimes find it tricky to make it sound natural, so those fics may take longer. I'm still happy to try though!)
Any specific details or scenes youâd love included and anything you absolutely do NOT want in the fic
This list may grow over time.
Incest, including step-family dynamics
Detailed abuse
Pure 'plotless' smut (not a hard no, just not what I enjoy writing)
Gender swaps or mpreg
Cannibalism
If youâre unsure about something, feel free to ask. The worst I will say is no.
Anons are fine, but your request might not be exactly what you were looking for as I didn't know who to talk to about any creative liberties I may have taken.
hiii iâm not sure if you still write for jake martin but if you do could you do a him X reader fic where she work with him and one day she starts having a panic attack and he just calms her down and maybe beth or kevin walk in and are surprised on how good he was at calming her down
Himbo Help
Story Summary -> Jake is unexpectedly good at calming down the newbies' panic attack.
Tags -> Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Overworking
Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!
There were a lot of things Jake didn't know. He was the type of guy to hold his hand up and admit that the only topic he was knowledgeable on was NASCAR, and even then, he didn't know the technical side of it and very often, it went over his head.Â
But he knew - with 100% certainty - that Y/N was a good assistant. Catherine had hired her at the beginning of the year and she had proven herself time and again to be a competent employee. So much so that the entire team took advantage of her competency and often added some of their minor tasks to her list, which was absolutely fine because they were mundane things that required nothing more than basic attention and a bit of brainpower, and, well, Y/N seemed to have a talent for figuring them all out.Â
But there's a difference between the preparation months and when the racing season actually began. It was like a totally different job: the time frames were smaller, the tasks more important, and one screw-up could mean the difference between winning and losing. And the stakes... Well, the stakes would certainly be higher than ever.
It was a lot of pressure.
The racing season began, and Y/N felt as if she was having her first day all over again, if not a hundred times over. Catherine had already given her a list of tasks to do that day, but as soon as she walked down into the lobby of Bobby Spencer Racing, Kevin called her over.
Her original list grew from:
To-Do :)
Finalise and update Catherineâs calendar for the week
Confirm sponsor meeting times and locations
AND Confirm dinner reservation for sponsor night
Print briefing documents for morning meeting
Rearrange travel plans after schedule change
Answer emails and flag anything urgent
Coordinate Jake's PR appearances and media slots'
To:
Finalise and update Catherineâs calendar for the week
Confirm sponsor meeting times and locations
AND Confirm dinner reservation for sponsor night
Print briefing documents for morning meeting
Rearrange travel plans after schedule change
Answer emails and flag anything urgent
Coordinate Jake's PR appearances and media slots'
For Kevin
Print revised strategy sheets last minute
Run updated notes to engineering
Sit in on call with NASCAR.com and take notes for him
Chase PR for confirmation on timing
Double-check tyre allocation sheet
Y/N smiled and wrote it down just as she usually would before she took another step and was being called over by Chuck and Amir, who had even more jobs for her.
ChuckÂ
Pick up parts from supplier across town
Drop off fire suit for repairs
Grab tools he 'forgot' to order
Stock up on energy drinks and snacks for the crew
Help organise equipment in the garage
Amir
Print data sheets before briefing and bring updated reports to Kevin
Email the revised numbers to PR
Cross-check figures for post-race report
Well, it was a lot but if she kept her head down and got into the zone, she could get half done today. And with some luck, maybe she wouldn't have to work through her lunch break.
It was doable. Barely. But, if she tried hard enough, she thought, surely she could manage to pull it off.
Then, she took another step.
"Ah, Y/N, there you are!" Beth greeted in that skittish way she had. "I was wondering..."
Great.
Beth
Organise and file expense reports
Collect receipts from everyone
Print and prepare contracts for signing
Chase finance about missing invoice
Update internal schedules and send round
Although her brain could barely comprehend it, more jobs were placed on her ever-growing to-do list. More projects, more meetings, more people, more responsibility and more paperwork to fill out. She'd never experienced this kind of workload before, and now that she was starting, it made her feel like her mind wanted to explode.Â
Or implode.
Or just shut down.
What if she couldn't handle it? What if she slipped up and let someone down? What if they fired her? What if -
"Hey, Y/N?" A voice cut through her thoughts. "You good?"
Jake, beautiful dumb Jake, stood there looking concerned with his hands on her shoulder blades as if he was worried she might fall back or maybe even faint. Maybe she had. Y/N had no idea what had happened in the two seconds she'd taken to blink, but everyone around the garage was eyeing her with furrowed brows and confused expressions.
"Yeah," she replied. "Yeah, I'm okay."
Even to her own ears, it sounded unconvincing.Â
"You've just been standing in the same spot for a while," Beth said carefully, looking at Y/N as if she was afraid she might pass out at any moment.
Of course, Beth was right. Y/N had been completely zoned out for a good minute or two. But now that she was back in the room, the rapid rise and fall of her chest was far more obvious.
Beth wasn't helping one bit. Her voice got all high and fast. "Oh, sweetheart, are you ok? Do you need to go home early? You can leave if you want-"
If anything, that made Y/N worse. There was no way she was going home. That was not an option. If she did, nothing would get done today, and then tomorrow would be a failure too, and the next day and the next and the next. She'd constantly be playing catch-up until they hired someone better, more reliable, and less incompetent.
Fuck! The new assistant would probably be prettier than her too. Maybe with bigger boobs. A richer family. Better clothes. Smarter. Kinder. Someone who could use Excel without having to Google what functions to use.
"Do you smell that?" Jake suddenly asked in a low voice and Y/N sniffed the air experimentally.Â
"Smell what?"
"I smell something."
Once again, she breathed in. The smells were familiar: gasoline fumes, rubber, grease, metal and leather. There was nothing odd about it, though; every car garage stank of fuel fumes.
"I donât smell anything!"
"Try again." He exaggerated his breathing in order for her to copy him and sure enough, she caught on to what he'd done and laughed. "Take a big, deep breath."
That doofus had effectively got her to calm her breathing, and in doing so, had dampened her panic. It was a miracle.
Beth watched on with amazement but didn't say anything. In fact, she looked quite smug that Jake was smart enough to think of doing that - Kevin wasn't going to believe her when she ultimately gossiped about this moment.
"Good job," he grinned as she seemed to come back into her body for a moment, then Y/N noticed how many eyes were on them and it began to get more uneven again. "I've been meaning to show you the simulator - let's go see it, yeah?"
In any other situation, Beth would've suggested that Jake didn't go into a private room with a pretty girl. Yet, in this one, it seemed like the best option they had available.
Before Y/N could agree, Jake tugged her arm and led her into the gym, away from the other employees and to where nobody wanted anything from her. It was a little warm and sweaty inside, but so was Y/N so that didn't matter too much.
"I lied about the simulator, bt-dubz." He rummaged through his bag to find a water bottle and handed it to her. "It's quiet in here."
She swallowed down half of it in one great big gulp.
"Do you want a hug?" He offered with a smile. "Because you look like you could use one."
Y/N stared blankly at him until she understood what he was trying to say. Then, slowly, she nodded her head yes and he opened his arms like this was something they did all the time. It wasn't, of course, as they barely knew each other. Other than the occasional surface-level coworker-type conversation, they hadn't had much contact during the past year. Sure, he was nice and pretty and charming and all sorts of wonderful things whenever they spoke, but they weren't exactly friends.
"C'mere," he said as he pulled her towards him. "Let yourself relax a little."
She complied immediately, allowing herself to slump slightly against his strong, sturdy body. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and waist as he held her close and pressed his chin against the top of her head. It was strange. In a good way. Never in a million years would Y/N have expected this. That his arms were the most comforting feeling in the world. That her entire body felt relaxed, grounded and protected at the mere touch of his. That she could stay here forever and enjoy it without worrying about any other problem she might face.
Logically, she knew that last one wasn't true and yet...
"Thank you," she whispered softly into his shirt.
"Anytime." He squeezed her gently. "You know, I used to think you'd suck at hugs because you're all prim and proper and perfect and stuff, but this is nice."
Pulling back a little, Y/N met his eyes with confusion. "I'm not prim and proper, and I'm certainly not perfect," she argued.
"Nah, I'm pretty sure you're, like, the best. At everything."Â
He'd said it so sincerely and with such conviction that she almost believed him.
"I'm really not," Y/N insisted. "I can barely do my own job, let alone everyone else's."
Her eyes widened as the words left her mouth. "I didn't mean... I'm an assistant! It's my job to do someone else's - Catherineâs, specifically - and do the proofreading and filing and picking up Kevin's dry cleaning and all that, and the emails and the planning and the meetings and-"
"Slow down," Jake said, interrupting her. "Like you said, you're Catherineâs assistant, not Kevin's or Amir's or Beth's or Chuck's or Jessie's or mine or anybody else's."
Y/N nodded slowly, still not fully comprehending what he was telling her. She knew what her role was. That was why she was here. To assist Catherine.
Oh. Catherine.
Only Catherine.
"I mean, if you were my assistant, I'd have you posting shirtless photos of me to Instagram every hour."
That got a laugh from her (even though he was being 100% serious), and he smiled back so dopily that it encouraged her to laugh even more. It was a blessing for him to not only hear but also be the reason she could release all her stress and anxiety in this way.
"Seriously though, the only person who you need to help is Catherine. You've gotta start saying no, okay?"
"Even to Chuck?" she added, a smirk appearing on her lips.
"Hmmm... maybe keep on his good side for the meantime," he suggested, only half joking and chuckling when she nudged him.
All too soon, it was time to get back to work, and Y/N reluctantly pulled away. She thanked him once again and took a few steps towards the door before hurrying back to give him a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you. Really."
It didn't matter that he replied with some dumb shit like, "No prob, Bob"; he was too flustered to care. He smiled so wide that his dimples made their appearance and she couldn't resist returning his smile, then darted away before he could stop her.Â
Throughout the rest of the day, she had to admit, she felt much better. Mostly because her coworkers rescinded their duties from her to-do list, as if they finally realised that they weren't the only ones who were taking advantage of her in such a way.
Everyone kept giving her these looks, guilty looks that made her both relieved and uncomfortable. Like, yes, thank you for finally realising that I'm not paid for doing your job, but also, hey, I'm not some kid that you manipulated into doing your evil bidding or whatever. She chose to say yes, and now she was choosing to say no.
When Kevin asked about her taking notes for him, she handed him a notepad and a pen.
When Beth asked for the updated reports to be printed out, she said, "Don't you know how to use a printer?"
When Amir asked her to cross-check the figures, she had joked, "Can you not read?"
Chuck's tools were ordered once all of Y/N's other jobs had been done, and she left him a note that read 'you scare me so here's your tools.' That was enough to quell him for now.
By the time the end of the day came, most, if not everything, was done to the best of her ability. That was all she could ever hope to do.Â
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I got tagged in both of these recently, and I thought it would be easier to answer them at the same time.
Tag Game
Tagged by: @eowens55
Favourite spice: This is such a basic answer, I think, but vanilla. I bake a lot - not well - and I find that almost anything I make tastes better with a hint of vanilla.
Favourite tea herb/flavour: There's this Twinnings one that I drink that supposed to help you sleep. I don't think it helps all that much but its a nice Spiced Apple so I don't mind pretending that it's doing what it says on the box.
Favourite thing to prepare/cook/bake: Flapjacks are my dads favourite so probably them.
Most weirdly nostalgic scent: Coca cola lip smacker. Or the weird plastic smell that came in on all the gameboy cartridges.
Most nostalgic piece of media: Mika's Life in Cartoon Motion; Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging; Wizards of Waverly Place.
Favourite texture: A smooth cold wall.
People I Would Like to Get to Know Better Tag
Tagged by: @lil-rigatoni
Last Song: For Her from The Great Gasby Musical
Favourite Colour: Forest green or maybe a terracotta shade.
Currently Watching: Pretty Little Liars. It's such a time capsule of the 2010's. I'm enjoying it for the first time, but I've watched the Mike's Mic recaps and know who each A is. My only gripe is that I hate Ezra so much, and the show wants you to think he's this sensitive bookish hunk, but, like, no. He's a pedophile.
Currently Reading: Oh Miriam by Miriam Margolyes
Current Obsession: The video Gentleman's Ultimate Werewolf on the Smosh Games channel, especially this random one-liner - "Pervert, open your eyes!" that Shane says during the fourth round. And Spencer's response of "You may tickle one foot" always gets me too. I honestly don't know why I keep going back to this precise part, but I do.
Last Google Search: Where to buy the wicked glinda robinsons sparkly squash?
Currently Working On: A Jake Martin request.
No pressure taglist: @adriansboyfriend, @kpopgirlbtssvt, @avastarred, @powerfultenderness, @greenbench, @tezzzzzzzz, @robbiez
hiiii i am tumbling into ur inbox to ask about the bob reynolds x telepathic reader WIP!! I have no specific questions but i am #intrigued!!
Hiiiii <3 Iâve not ironed out all the kinks yet, but Iâve got a rough plan down and about 1000 words written so far.
The general idea is that the reader is a telepath whose whole job revolves around working with people who have a history of things like mind control, memory wipes, or general superhero-related trauma, and she goes into their memories to reframe thought patterns either when they began or where they were the most prominent. It's an incredibly intrusive procedure, so she likes to build a rapport with her client beforehand to help their worries and trust issues.
Bucky ends up suggesting Bob as a potential client since he admits she was hired to help him when he was in Wakanda, and Bob agrees, but only on the condition that Yelena comes with him to his sessions.
Yelena and the reader have never met before, but they get along ridiculously well almost immediately, which ends up throwing Bob off more than he expects. He gets this weird mix of jealousy and insecurity because
a) his best friend has suddenly found someone she clicks with just as much, if not more
b) he feels like his new therapist is focusing more on Yelena - even though she absolutely isnât, and she reassures him that heâs her priority and helping him get to a stable place is the main goal
c) he very quickly realises he finds his therapist attractive and is not subtle about it at all. Heâs noticeably more flustered and a bit heart-eyed, which Yelena picks up on instantly and fully takes advantage of by teasing him and occasionally jokingly flirting with Y/N just to make it worse for him.
I have no idea how long this will take to write, so I can't promise a time frame, and I don't even have a general idea of how far into the fic I am.
Thanks for asking! I love knowing what people are interested in seeing/what they're excited to read, so this was really nice. Thank you!
RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then tell them something about it!
Ps. Most of my fics don't have names yet - they're all named shit like EM. 1 or AC. 7 - sooo I'll just describe them. I think that's the better way to do this. But ask away if you wish!
Mentioned publicly
Jud Duplenticy x reader fic that I might give up on as I've been trying to write it for ages, and I never seem to make any progress.
More chapters of StormPar Babysitting Service
A rewrite of Half The Work to expand some scenes. I'd say I'm 1/4 way through.
I'm still debating whether to do Stranger Things (Bippot's version) as it's going to be lots of work. I think I'll try to write the rest of s1 ep1, and depending on how long that takes me, I will decide whether it's an undertaking that I'm willing to do. All 5 seasons have been planned out, with each episode having an 8 beat storyline, and the back-end seasons are very different than the canon ones.
A Last In Line rewrite.
Silently sat in the wip folder
These are not a guarantee and may not actually come out anytime soon.
Jake Martin x reader request that I'm slowly working on (my apologies to the requester, but I've been kinda uninspired recently).
Vigilante x reader fic featuring a Scarlet Witch type metahuman and B-Adrian escaping to Earth-1. I'm maybe a 1/5 way through.
Eddie Munson x reader in the Forgotten Realms fic. Very d&d heavy. Has been on the back burner for about a year, and I completely forgot it existed until last week.
Spencer Reid x reader where they both work for the bau and develop a habit of going home and basically cockwarming as communication when they're too tired to talk. This is mostly done, I think. I'd say I've got another page or two and then it's ready to post.
A rewrite of Offical.
Another chapter of the Robert Floyd Man of The Sky.
A very old Billy Knight x reader that I doubt will ever be finished and come out.
Bob Reynolds x reader featuring a telepathic reader who is kind of like a therapist that goes inside people's mind and memories to help from within.
Vigilante x reader. Established relationship where Y/N is fired for refusing to sleep with her boss and Adrian comforts her but sneaks out when she goes to sleep to fuck up her boss.
Eddie Munson x reader. Absolute besties, but he's so obviously into her, and she had no idea. I think eventually I'm going to morph this with another idea of Y/N being Gareth's sister and in Corroded Coffin when it gets popular, but then Eddie fucks up and she goes solo, and it's obvious who her songs are about and it kills him until he finally apologises and confesses.
Bob Floyd x reader where they were FWB but had a falling out and try to be civil at one of Hangman's party holidays. Jake is Y/N's bff and not so subtly trying to get her and Bob together.
Chapter 2 of Sitter of Babies that I never got around to finishing. Originally, it was going to be a 4 part story but I completely forgot about it.
There's a Bob Floyd x bartender reader that I might turn into a Dennis Witaker story as I think that would make childhood me who had a crush on Vladimir Dracula very happy. Heavy on the might. I still need to finish The Pitt.
Jeffrey Steinberg x reader. The whole apocalypse thing was a ruse by Finn, and the squad finally escapes the bunker and is reunited with the normal world. Y/N is Jeffrey's assistant, who kinda took over his company while he was away and is so glad that he's back because she's been working her self to death to do both of their jobs. He struggles to come to terms with how he acted during the 'apocalypse' and constantly asks her for help and reassurance.
A really, really, really old Luke from Pitch Perfect x reader fic that I doubt will ever come out, so I don't know why I mentioning it.
No obligation tags. @stealsteels @avastarred @strangelure @powerfultenderness @greenbench and anyone else who just wants to chat about their work, just go for it!
Story Summary -> Adrian makes a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl, but hey, when doesnât he? Sheâs weird, funny, and treats him gently, which obviously makes him obsessed with her, and much to his surprise, she seems to like having him around too. Together, they try to carve out a peaceful life, yet her less than perfect family messes up their harmony.
Can their love survive alley fights, mob bosses, and a robotic eggman? It will be a tough ride, but theyâre prepared to give it a go.
Entire Story Tags -> Dungeons & Dragons References, Gun Violence, Idiots in Love, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Children, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Animal Attack, DC Comics References, Mutual Pining, Bisexual Christopher Smith | Peacemaker, Domestic Fluff, Organized Crime, Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Kidnapping, Mommy Issues, First Meetings, First Kiss, Autism, Long-Term Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Soulmates, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Autistic Adrian Chase, Blood and Violence, Substance issues, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Unplanned Pregnancy, Gotham City is Terrible, Hospitalization, Blood and Injury, Crimes & Criminals, Written Before S2
Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!
Previous Chapter -> 36-40
41. With Fronds Like these, Who Needs Anemone
Pregnancy tests aren't entirely accurate all of the time. That's the thought she clung to as Chris suggested they should find out. The pair stood outside the bathroom door. She had been trying to enter it for the past 7 minutes with no success. Her feet wouldn't move any further.
"Mind if I use it first? It's just you might have a breakdown in there and I already need a piss, so I don't want to be waiting just awkwardly holding in my piss as you cry or celebrate or whatever you end up doing."
She couldn't argue with that, so she stepped aside to let him enter and tried to block out the sounds of his piss stream. When he was done, she yelled, "Wash your hands," as she had yet to hear the tap run. For some strange reason, watching Chris go into the bathroom allowed her legs to finally move. She could do this. She had to find out at some point. With a sigh, she finished getting mentally ready and grabbed her purse. She would fucking do this.
It was the first test in her life that she wanted to fail. Actually, that's not true. She also wanted to fail her driver's test so she could give it up and her parents would stop pushing her to drive. Alas, she passed and now tries to walk or get driven everywhere instead.
Chris opened the door and announced, "Your turn."
"Plug your ears. I don't want you to hear me pee." He did as she said.
Opening the box and reading the instructions was the easy part. That, she could do without any nervousness. She quickly washed her hands and then readied herself to follow the instructions. Using three tests to be absolutely sure, she did the whole shebang step by step, then banged on the door to make Chris aware he could come in. He did so quickly, walking in to find her leaning against the sink, waiting for the results to show.
5 minutes felt like an eternity as the pair watched the little sticks. As soon as they began to develop, she had to hide behind her hands. "What does it say?" She asked, her eyes peeking between the gaps in her fingers.
"I don't know," he responded, looking over the instructions. "What does 'two lines' mean?"
"Shit." She quickly looked at the tests. Each one of them had two reddish lines that were becoming more visible by the second. There was no mistaking it. She stared at him.
Finally piecing it together, Chris congratulated her, unsure of how she felt. "Can I be godfather?"
"These things are only," she began and checked the box, "Fuck, uh, 99% accurate." All signs pointed towards positive. She stood there, her mind reeling at the news. Her heart skipped a couple of beats before pounding so rapidly that she could feel it at her temples.
Pregnancy? She had always wanted to be pregnant at some point. It's just that now probably wasn't the correct point. Would she really be strong enough to deal with a kid? Physically, probably. Mentally, that was less likely. But, for now, she would keep her thoughts to herself. She would make an appointment with the doctor to find out for 100%. Once she was absolutely sure, that's when she would discuss it with Adrian.
In the meantime, all she could do was wonder what it would be like to be a mother. Chris had promised not to tell him. It was her job to do that. He had almost let it slip when the two of them were out on patrol one night but managed to play it off like he was talking about something else. Smashing his fist into an arsonist's face, Chris asked his buddy, "Have you ever seen Finding Nemo?"
The arsonist replied, "Of course, who-"
"Not you, jackass." Peacemaker brought a punch to the guy's temple and knocked him out.
Vigilante took his sword and sliced it across the throat of the criminal in his grasp. "Yeah, dude, it's a classic. Why?"
"You remind me of the main guy."
What the fuck did Chris mean by that? Adrian was perplexed by that. He enquired, "Marlin?"
"He's the dad, right? Not the blue bitch?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Sirens could be heard getting closer. That was their cue to get the fuck out of there and back to the Vigilante-mobile. The pair rocked out as Adrian drove and totally forgot about Chris's questioning. He got home in the early hours of the morning and quietly made his way through the backdoor to find her still awake. He instantly took his suit off and made his way towards her.
Tomorrow was her appointment, and she was finding it difficult to sleep. She had gone over every detail of it in her head and still had a shitload of questions. Of course, she would be lying if she said she was confident about how it would all go. But she was going to do it. Nothing was going to hold her back.
Pulling his mask off so he could see her more clearly, he rested against the kitchen doorframe as he watched her slowly dance whilst she waited for her midnight snack to cook. Wait, is it called a midnight snack if it's past midnight? Are you legally allowed to call it that? Maybe 4 a.m. mozzarella dipper bonanza would be a more sufficient description.
She looked carefree and happy, the expression on her face reminding Adrian of how they first met, except for the fact that the roles were reversed. "Nice moves," he announced, causing her to jump. She had been in her own little world. As soon as the shock had subsided, she pecked him on the lips and tried to get him to dance with her. He joined in on her goofy dancing as they waited for the food.
Why was she still awake? "Can't sleep?" He asked, swaying gently with his arms wrapped around her.
"No, I had a headache."
"Nightmares again?"
Strangely, ever since she had taken the tests (which was a little under 4 weeks ago). (hey, it takes a while to get a doctor's appointment these days), he had been sleeping better and feeling better. It was as if she finally had something real and substantial to wait for. As if she was finally focused on something other than her past - her future. "I haven't had a nightmare in a while," she reassured him.
The timer she had set went off. It was food time. "Hungry?"
"Starving."
Adrian told her all about his night as they stuffed their faces with mozzarella dippers and fries. When he was done, they both collapsed in a heap on the couch. He felt like his eyes were wide open but he wasn't seeing anything. His brain was fried but he still had so much energy left. Food had really invigorated him. She asked, "Tired?"
"I've still got some pep in my step," he stated. They hadn't had sex in a while due to his worries about her. She seemed to be doing better. He was growing more and more horny by the day. He often had to excuse himself to the bathroom and deal with his urges, using his imagination and the photo she had sent him ages ago as fuel.
It's not as if she never tried to initiate it with him. He would always give her a disapproving look and change the subject. She knew why he was doing that and thought it was sweet, although a little frustrating.
Moving her hand to the waistband of his boxers, she waited for his confirmation before continuing and it only took a moment for him to nod. Then, with a little force, she flipped them over so she was leaning over him. This time he didn't object.
In no time, she had removed the top she was wearing. It was nighttime, and she was in the comfort of her own home. Of course she didn't have a bra on. Just that was enough to get him going. "Please sit on my face," he begged. He sounded so desperate.
"Are you sure? Remember what happened last time?" He had been so focused on her that he forgot to stop for breath and almost passed out. Luckily, she managed to get off of him before he fell unconscious. He was more than willing to try again. She was always a little hesitant when he brought it up.
"Please," he repeated, sloppily kissing the palm of her hand. How could she say no to that? She waited for him to shuffle down the couch, then removed her underwear and hovered herself above him, her thighs by his head.
Reminding him, she said, "Remember to breathe this time."
"I know how to fucking breathe," he replied through the haze of passion.
"Fucking could've fooled me last time." His hands clamped themselves on her hips and pulled her onto his mouth. The sensation of her wetness drove him wild. He was so excited to finally be back to multiplayer sex rather than the left-handed singleplayer that he was getting more and more unsatisfied with each time. Every second of his wait was worth it. Her moans of pleasure were music to his ears. It was his favourite sound, and he hadn't heard it in a while.
At what she thought was an appropriate time, she lifted her hips slightly to let him take a breath, but he wasn't having any of it and roughly brought her onto his tongue once again, delving deeper than the last time. She let out a tiny squeal of surprise, and he grinned, loving the fact that she was just as into it as he was. "You're so good," she praised, which urged him to go faster. He was enjoying this a little too much. He knew he was supposed to be taking his time, but there were so many things going on in his mind that were begging for release.
"Can I start moving?" She asked through moans. He didn't stop. He groaned and took one hand off her hip to give her a thumbs-up, then immediately returned them to start rocking her against him. It felt so good to her, and she couldn't help but begin grinding against his mouth.
Yanking his hair to force him off her, she made him take a little break. "Good boy," she cooed, beaming down at him. He was so turned on that she didn't even mind that he was drooling on her legs. He gave her a sexy, heart-stopping grin, his chin coated with her. His eyes were totally glazed over.
"Only for you," he replied, his tongue sliding its way across his bottom lip. "Come on, I need to taste you again. Can I?"
"Say please."
"Please, baby." Once again, she allowed him to continue and, in no time, she was soon grasping at the top of the sofa as her orgasm was nearing its peak. When it arrived, she threw her head back, and her hands were gripping the fabric so tightly that her knuckles were white as she loudly whined his name over and over again.
After she recovered, she dropped down to give him a kiss. "I came so hard," she said, sitting back at his waist. "Plus, you didn't pass out, so you're really hitting it out of the park tonight."
"Is that a fact?" he responded, smiling to himself. He kissed her again and went to say something but stopped himself as she slid his underwear down. She was going to ride him after just sitting on his face? This was the best fucking day ever.
When she had freed him from his boxers, she straddled him. The look of wonder on his face was worth every penny of her family's dirty mob money. "That fact is 100% acu-rat," she retorted, then realised an American probably wouldn't get a Horrible Histories reference.
Slowly, she lowered herself onto his cock and felt him sink inside of her. It felt so good that she didn't realise he had begun to speak. "You are so tight," he said, his voice a strained whisper. "Fuck, I've missed this."
"Is this better than sneaking away when we first wake up to jack off to that nude I sent you a while back?" She teased.
"How the hell did you know that?" He sat up slightly and started guiding her onto him, his strong grasp surely leaving bruise marks. "So much better. So much." Instinctively, his hips bucked upwards, fucking himself further into her before meeting her mouth for a moan-filled kiss. Their tongues caressed and twirled against each other, tasting and experiencing every flavour in the air - which mostly consisted of sweat and the forgotten aroma of breaded cheese. Very sexy.
Breaking the kiss, she watched as Adrian's eyes rolled back as he released his climax into her. This was her cue to follow suit and she did so, her forehead slightly knocking against his as she came again. They stayed like that for a few moments, the only movement being the rise and fall of their chests.
Sex after a night of crime-fighting ensured that Adrian smelt only of sweat, so she commented, "You absolutely stink, so shower, then bed?"
"Absolutely, my darling, sexy, beautiful, showstopping wife."
"You could've just said yes."
Chuckling, he argued, "Doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?" And he was right. It doesn't.
42. Pepsi Or Coke?
Waiting rooms are purgatory. No matter how many times you've been to one, there's always an undercurrent of worry. She knew she wasn't dying. But what if the doctor said she was? What would happen? Of course, that wouldn't happen. She was healthy. Yet, there's always a chance.
Luckily, the doctor called her into the consultation room before she could spiral any further. The appointment took hardly any time. It was faster than she expected. She had been worrying that it was going to be a super long process and she would have to go back home to explain to Adrian why her 'grocery trip' took forever.Â
It was his day off and he wanted to spend every single minute with her, so it was a really difficult task to convince him that she needed to go to the shop alone. She still wasn't quite sure how she managed to do it.
"Ade," she playfully warned, trying to bat his head away from her neck as he pressed his lips to her skin. "Stop."
"I can't, baby," he said, nipping at her ear. Why was she trying to get away from him? To shop? Hell, they could go shopping together. That would be no sweat. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with her. She had spent quite a bit of her time with Chris recently, and Adrian had been feeling left out. "You're just too sexy to let go of."
It was a good thing she was strong-willed; otherwise, he'd have had her on her back in no time. She had planned on getting there early to ensure everything would go smoothly. Maybe she could take some time to indulge him a little. Who was going to stop her? She certainly wasn't going to. "If I give you a hand job, will you let me go to the shops in peace?" She offered.
"Make it a blowjob."
"Done."Â
In no time, he had his hand gripped in her hair and was pulling her up and down his erection, guiding her to take him deeper and deeper inside of her mouth. The tightness of her lips and throat was driving him insane with pleasure, and it wasn't long before he was yelling out a bunch of curses, his chest heaving from his orgasm.
Wiping her mouth, she asked, "Will you be okay here on your own?"
"Sure," he managed through still rasping breath. "Go. Get your shopping done."
She smiled, trying to hide the fact that she felt a little guilty for the white lie. Still, as soon as she got home, he'd know the truth. With one final kiss, she was out the door.
The doctor confirmed what the tests had said. She had taken more in two weeks, just to check if they were telling the truth. All 14 of them had all been positive. And her periods had stopped a while back. It was official.
Y/N Chase was with child. 8 weeks pregnant. Fuck. Now she had to tell Adrian. She knew that he would take it well, extremely well. He would be so excited that he wouldn't stop to think about the ramifications on their lives.
When she arrived home from the 'store' without any groceries, he was suspicious. People tended to buy things when they went shopping and here she was empty-handed. Something was up. "Wow, need help with all your stuff, sexy lady?" He enquired, trying to get her to laugh with his little joke. He was unsure what emotion was on her face. It was a mix of too many that was confusing to him.
Whatever the case, it seemed to work because she let out a chuckle. But she didn't say anything. She simply took his hands and guided him to sit down on their bed. "I have something to tell you."
"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, growing serious. He watched as she knelt in front of him. Was she going to suck his dick again? No. Right? No, this was serious. That wasn't what was going to happen. "What is it? Baby, talk to me," he added, his voice more anxious by the second. It was bad news. It had to be. Why else would she be so serious? "You're looking pale."
"I am?" Shit. This was harder than she thought. Y/N fumbled to find her voice. "I lied about going to the shop."
Yeah, no shit. That was obvious. Not understanding her hesitation, he continued to joke, "I may be stupid, but I'm not that stupid." She shook her head, smiling at him. He was correct; he isn't that stupid.
Taking a deep breath, she admitted, "I went to the doctors." He didn't say anything for a few moments. Did she finally want to get therapy? They had spoken about it. Both of them agreed it would be beneficial to them, but it would be difficult to tell a therapist any part of their trauma. That would land them in jail. Separate jails.
Here it was. If she couldn't tell him, maybe she could show him. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out one of the tests and placed it in his hand. She could see the gears turning in his head as he worked out what she was implying. As he was figuring it out, she waited patiently for his reaction.
"This is not a joke, right?" he asked, his voice failing him. This was a cruel trick if it were one. She would never be that mean. "This is real?"
"It's real." He was in shock. She could see it in his eyes, looking at the stick in his hands, trying to comprehend the meaning of what had just happened.
Then it hit him. "I'm going to be a dad," he stated, a grin developing wide across his face. And he let out a hearty laugh. It was contagious.
"You are."
"Holy shit." He looked stunned. "Are you sure?"
She dumped all of the remaining tests from her bag onto the floor and confirmed, "Positive. Very positive." He looked happier than she'd ever seen him and instantly leant down to kiss her, excitedly pulling her onto his lap.Â
"I'm going to be a father, Y/N," he declared, his voice fast and repeating. "I'm going to be a father."
He reacted just as she predicted, and she couldn't contain her grin despite how hard she tried. It was super hard for her not to want this kid when he was so enthusiastic about it. "You've got 14 weeks to change your mind," she informed him, fiddling with the necklace that was his birthday gift.Â
As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn't. The look on his face. Oh... she didn't think it could get worse, but it did. His expression dropped. Did she want an abortion? Was he supposed to not want this kid?Â
"I'm not going to change my mind," he clarified solemnly. She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. "I want to have this child." He sounded firm. He rarely ever sounded like that. At least now he was taking it seriously.
Continuing, he said, "I'll be so good," and gently brought his hands to her stomach, softly caressing where their child would grow. "We can do this."
She was too shocked to say anything. She just looked at him. Was it really that simple? Could he make it better? How? How could he make it better?
"I'll be the best dad ever," he added, grinning. Oh. My. God. She felt her eyes welling with tears again and tried to blink them away. She couldn't do anything except stare at him. He completely forgot to consider her feelings. This was hardly the perfect time.
Adrian bit his bottom lip slightly as he pondered the situation. It would break his little heart if they were opposed on this. He stuttered out, "Do you, uh... do you want a..." He couldn't get the word 'abortion' out, so he changed course. "Is it me? Do you not want-"
Kissing him so he wouldn't finish what she considered to be the stupidest statement he had ever said, she placed her hands on top of his. Her smaller ones cradled his as he felt her tummy. It was so warm, so soft. She took a deep breath as he worked to understand her. He could tell she was wavering, so he said, "You'd be a rad 'mum'." He tried doing her accent. It wasn't that awful of an attempt.
"I'm not so sure about that." She placed a finger under his chin so he'd only look into her eyes. Ever since she had told him, his gaze often wandered down to her stomach. "I'm having a hard time processing this. What if I-"Â
"It'll be okay, you'll see," he told her, then teased, "At least you've already given up alcohol. That's step one."
That cheeky bastard. He was correct. She let out a cackle, partly in relief and partly at him. He loved that laugh. He loved her. He loved this kid. "I guess I'm ahead of schedule then," she retorted. "I've got an ultrasound in two weeks. Mind accompanying me?"
His answer was obvious. That was a no-brainer. He would be by her side every step of the way. "I'll do anything for you," he murmured, before planting one on her lips. Not that she needed more proof, but it couldn't hurt to have it.
Lifting her off of him and laying her down on the bed, he moved his head to hover above her abdomen, his fingers lightly tracing little circles in her waist as he began to talk nonsense to her stomach. "...That is the thing, you know. It's impossible to guess whether you'll be a Pepsi or Coke kind of person. Obviously, I mean the drink, not the drug, because you don't want to get caught in possession since a gram is 1-3 years. "Maybe he would've made a good lawyer. Probably not, though. "And your ma and I would have to deal with the fact that our son is a criminal, which is-"
"Son?" she asked. He had always pictured them with a son. He had no idea why. He was just sure of it.
"Yeah, a little guy called Megatron." He was being 100% serious. "I haven't decided on a middle name yet." That so wasn't happening. Naming her child after a Decepticon? That was a no. Maybe an Autobot. But definitely not an evil Decepticon.
Gazing at him, she couldn't help but laugh at his suggestion. It was so stupid. So ridiculous. He had no idea why she was giggling. He wasn't joking. Playfully, he asked, "What's so funny? What's so funny about Megatron Chase?" She laughed harder when he said it out loud. "Now that I hear it, it does sound a bit stupid."
Instead of getting offended at her mocking of his baby name, he decided to shut her up the only way he knew how to. He shifted up and attached his mouth to her skin, working his way from her ear down to her breast. All of a sudden, he pulled back and questioned, "But wait, I thought you were on the pill?"
That was a very good point. It had taken her some time to figure that out. "I am, usually. But I skipped... some days." He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. She simply explained, "Gotham."
Everything always goes down in Gotham.
It was all the explanation that he needed. He remembered that night. It's sort of poetic that the night they thought their lives were over was the night they started a new one. One they'd both remember for the rest of their lives for a variety of reasons.
She brought her hand up and started raking it through his hair as she waited for his reaction, which was to respond with, "Guess I really dicked you down good that night then."
"Ah yes, because procreation only happens when the sex is good," she snarkily retorted with a smile. Maybe it was time to mess with him a bit. "Talking of sex, how do you feel now that we can't have it for the next 8 months?"
"I'm okay with it," he said. He kissed her on the lips and ran his thumb lightly over her nipple. His actions give his true feelings away. "Not as okay as I would be if we could have it, but okay nonetheless."Â
His answer surprised her. That's how much he wanted this kid. So much that he'd give up fucking her at every chance he got. That was a lot. "Pookie, I'm only playing with you. You can continue fucking me whenever you want."
"Whenever?" he repeated seductively, moving his knee in between her legs. Now was whenever.
The next day, he gave in his notice at Fennel Fields so he could spend his time looking after his pregnant wife. He hadn't told her he was going to do it. He only decided to do it during his shift. They could get by on her wage, so why not?
Strangely, the first thing Adrian saw when he got back from work was Percival and Cyril seated on their couch, which wasn't odd these days, but he was always suspicious when they were around.
Y/N hadn't told her brothers yet. She walked from the kitchen, beverages in hand, and saw her husband. He immediately pecked her on the head and tried to take the cups from her hand. "Ade, I've got it," she reassured him, placing them on the coffee table. "So, what's this news you've got, Perce?"
"Peacemaker and his crew killed our parents."
That was kind of right. Technically, Y/N was part of Chris's 'crew'.
43. Hentai
A couple of days before, Knight and Squire had managed to track down an old henchman of The Squid. The guy was more than willing to spill the beans on his experience. Well, he was after 3 of his fingers had been cut off. Percy was the one who was tasked with the grizzly removal. As a dentist, he was used to pulling teeth, not fingies. But he seemed fine with the task. It was as if he had done it before.
Now they were nonchalantly sipping their drinks as Y/N and Adrian exchanged a worried glance at each other. Was the jig finally up? "Why do you think Peacemaker did it?" she asked, not wanting to start a guessing game.
"One of Loman's old employees told us that Peacemaker and Vigilante were there when mother was kidnapped," Cyril explained. "Oh, and mother was kidnapped. Forgot to say that bit before."
Adrian was sure that they killed all of the henchmen at the warehouse that day. It was so long ago in his mind. He remembers his kills. He also remembers Chris's. It must've been Leota's. Oh fuck, she had only been tranquilising them. That's what happened.
"So, what's your next step?" She asked Percy. It was clear he was the one in charge. It was possible she could get them to tell her their plan so she could warn A.R.G.U.S. If things went smoothly, she could prevent any further violence. It would just come to a rocky standstill.
"We need more evidence. We can't just go in guns blazing," Percy responded with a shrug. "We need to get a confession out of him somehow."
Adrian piped up, "Who? Peacemaker or Vigilante?" She glanced at her husband and subtly shook her head. He was not starting shit. Not today. The last thing she needed was her man and her brothers feuding.
"Either," Cyril said plainly.
It was easy for her to tell Adrian was getting antsy. He fidgeted where he stood and tapped his middle finger against his pointer, as he often did when something made him slightly uncomfortable. It was something he rarely did around her anymore. She had only seen him do it a couple of times when Chris hadn't texted him in a few days and he thought his buddy was dead.
In an attempt to soothe him, she gently intertwined their hands and caressed her thumb against the back of his hand. It worked. Only slightly. But still, that was better than nothing. "What's your plan?" she asked.
"We just want to talk," Cyril admitted. Strange. Adrian's brow furrowed. Maybe they were going to be okay.
Talking was not the family way. She was incredibly suspicious of this plan. "Just talk?" she repeated.
"Yeah," Percival agreed. "We are doing a drug bust tonight. We've invited Peacemaker and told him to bring Vigilante. Maybe we'll kick back some beers. Sort this shit out."
Now it was her turn to shrug. "If you think it'll help, sure." But she really wasn't sold on it. That was way too easy. Nothing is that easy and low maintenance. Especially in her life.
Yet, it may be strategically beneficial to go along and pretend that she did. That would ensure that she could keep both Peacemaker and Vigilante (especially since he was in the same room as her) in the loop. They would be aware of the plan and could just not go to this 'drugs bust', which was clearly a trap, and be safe from her brothers for a while.
Maybe she could tip off A.R.G.U.S. in time. They could be proactive and use the opportunity to eliminate the threat. Wait, no. She didn't want her brothers to die. She had just gotten to know them. Admittedly, she didn't find what she had discovered about them particularly favourable. They were the last of her family. She had to protect them too. If they started threatening them, Chris and Adrian would kill them without really thinking too much about it.
Ultimately, when it comes down to it, she would throw anybody under the bus to keep Adrian out of harm's reach. He was her person. The father of her child. That dumb whore was not dying on her watch. If she had to lie, she would lie, and she had a feeling she had already been lied to by one of the men in her life, so she was not above doing the same thing herself.
"Talking sounds good," she falsely confirmed, nodding. "That's what they told me to do in rehab. It was always, 'Hey, Y/N, you've got to speak from the heart about your issues and healing will soon follow.' ' A bunch of hippie shit. But it worked."
Cyril was sold on the idea that his sister believed them. Percy, on the other hand, was a little doubtful, but he mostly deemed that she was telling the truth. She had to be telling the truth, because why else would she have brought up her alcoholism? She knew that it was a touchy subject for them.
They left and prepared for their nighttime activities, the door slamming behind them on the way out. The couple flinched at the sound and locked eyes. They needed to warn Chris. "You call him. He prefers you," Adrian stated, holding his phone out to Y/N.
"He's your best friend."
Once upon a time, that was true. Not anymore. "You're my best friend," he retorted. He knew how cringe it sounded but said it anyway. It was true, she was. Chris always acted like he didn't like it when Adrian was around. That's hardly #1 BFF behaviour. Y/N never did that.
"So cheesy." Unbelievably cheesy," she teased as she took the phone from his hands and called Chris. He picked up almost immediately.
"Hey," Y/N greeted him, and Adrian repeated it as his hands snaked around her waist as she spoke. "Knight and Squire may be planning to kill you. Do not go out tonight."
There was a brief pause before Chris spoke, "Why?"
"Don't ask questions. Just go home and stay there. We love you; don't die." She hung up.
Looking at her husband, she joked, "Well, that was easy."
Again, it was too easy. "Chris won't listen," Adrian admitted. He knew Peacemaker well. That was an understatement. And he knew for a fact that Chris would intend to do as she said but would get bored and curious. By 9pm, he would be out on patrol and probably get murdered by Knight, which (obviously) they wanted to avoid. There were two of them vs. Peacemaker. Vigilante needed to even the scales, just in case.
She watched as this thought popped into his head. It's not like she could force him to not protect his #2 BFF. "Let me come with?" she asked, a sly grin on her face. "3 vs 2?"
Adrian let out a short, barking laugh, his eyes glowing dangerously. Putting his pregnant wife in the firing line? That was the stupidest thing she had ever said. "Yeah, no. That's a hard no," he stated, shaking his head. "You stay here. You'll be fine."
"I know how to shoot," she said matter-of-factly.
"You are mentally incapable of holding a gun," he reminded her. He didn't like to remind her of that, but it was the only argument he needed.
That was a good point. He got her with that one. Y/N made one last plea as she looked into his eyes. "I'll wear a sexy costume."
On any other day, that might've worked. Today, not in a million years. "No," he almost growled. He softened his tone. "I want you to stay safe. This is not a negotiation."
Shit. She knew when to give up. She knew he would say no, but she still wanted to help. What could she do? Logically, her part in the grand scheme of things was over. She had successfully convinced her brothers that they had the high ground. That was enough. She didn't need to do anything else.
Except maybe she could... No. She was not going down that rabbit hole. It wasn't just her life on the line now.
Y/N took Adrian's head in her hands and pulled him into a deep and passionate smooch. She didn't just make her husband happy; she made him the happiest man on the planet. He was practically beaming from ear to ear. And he was going to be that way for as long as he could.
"If you die," she whispered into his ear. "I'll kill you."
His eyes were glassy but he smiled. He put his chin on her head and held her tight. "I won't," he promised, and she believed him. He'd do the absolute most to get back to them.
"I love you," she said. She had said it to him so many times before.
But this one was different. He could tell every little emotion she was feeling just with those three words. He looked down at her. His smile faltered, his eyes dropped to her abdomen, and he looked like he was going to break into a sob. "I love you more."
"That's impossible."
He didn't leave her side as they waited for the inevitable: Chris to be a dumbass. They spent that time snuggled up on the sofa. Adrian's head was in Y/N's lap, her hand running through his hair as he told their kid about his adventures (he made them much more palatable for a child's ears despite the fact that the foetus wouldn't be able to hear for another 8 weeks).
Peacemaker did just as Adrian had said he would, so Vigilante waited outside his buddy's door for him to come out. He tried to look cool by leaning against it and putting one of his legs against the wall like he'd seen cool guys do in movies, but he looked awkward. Like a covert flamingo.
Peacemaker jumped when he saw his pal. "Fuck, Vee? Were you listening to me jerking off 5 minutes ago?" he asked, eyes wide with fear and disgust.
Vigilante had heard Chris beating his meat but didn't realise that was what he was doing. "Dude, I thought you were watching anime." It was hentai. Incredibly gross, incredibly fucked up hentai.
Ignoring this, Chris asked, "What the hell are you doing here, man? Y/N told us to stay inside."
"She's your wife. I don't have to listen to her," Peacemaker replied, making his way to his car. Another good point.
Vigilante 1 vs. Peacemaker 1
Without another word, Adrian got in the passenger's side and joined Chris at the location provided to him. He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone but he knew he had to.
"Let's get this shit over with," Chris said.
Knight and Squire were waiting outside a warehouse that looked incredibly similar to the one Peacemaker and Vigilante had busted before. The one difference was a small padlock through the gate with a chain attached. Squire picked up a bolt cutter and snipped the lock in two seconds flat. "After you, boys."
"What, no hello? 'Hi, Peacemaker, how are you?" Chris joked as he put his foot on the top rung of the gate and pushed it open. Mockingly, Squire repeated what Chris had asked them to say.
"It's clear they want us first so they can get a good look at my fat ass," Vigilante teased, using his Vigilanteâąïž voice as a cover. They knew what he usually sounded like. Chris looked at him sceptically for a second but soon moved on. He might have thought Adrian was putting on a stupid voice for a joke.
They entered the warehouse, and the first thing the quartet saw were three dead bodyguards, one of them still holding a gun in his hand. "Someone took them out before we got here. You really need to be more careful," Knight said, shooting a look at his brother. It was a nice little charade.
"This seems a little dead," Peacemaker said. "Hardly a four-man job."
The next thing the group saw was a bag in the middle of the room. Adrian recognised it. It was Laura's. The black one with a squid engraved on it. How the hell was it here? Before he could warn Peacemaker, Chris walked up and opened the bag.
A boom rang out and Peacemaker was thrown back, awful green gas spewing out of the handbag. Knock out. Vigilante rushed and tried to pull Peacemaker out of the area of effect, but Chris was too meaty. He didn't look injured, just dazed.
The last thing Vigilante saw before the knockout gas got to him was Knight and Squire removing their masks to replace them with wartime gas masks as a bunch of masked hidden henchmen swarmed into the room. Oh fuck, now it was more than 2 vs 2. More like 20 vs 2.
One of the brothers, Adrian was too dizzy to know which one, made his way in front of Chris and teased, "Night night, Pissmaker."
Both Vigilante and Peacemaker had walked into a trap. Just as she said they would. And now, they were seriously outnumbered and unconscious. What could go wrong?
Knight and Squire 1 vs. Vigilante and Peacemaker 0
44. Bitchfaceđ€°
Alone. That's how Y/N felt when she woke up. She was all alone, in their bed, in their house, without Adrian. It was hard for her to get to sleep last night, as she was so worried about him, but being pregnant is rather tiring, so she eventually fell into a restless slumber.
It was strange. She had become accustomed to the feeling of his body tightly pressed up against hers as they slept. And the feeling of him poking her in the stomach when they woke up was something she looked forward to. But now, well, now it just felt weird to have the empty space beside her.
After rushing to the bathroom to puke (it got all in her hair because she didn't have someone to hold it back for her), she held her stomach and said, "Your daddy should be home by now." She really hoped he was alright.
Yet, she doubted that was true. He was in danger. So was Chris. Leota would know what to do. "Hey, girl," Leota greeted down the phone.
"Peacemaker and Vigilante have gone missing," Y/N stated back. "They went on a mission with Knight and Squire last night. It was a trap. I know it."
Leota was silent for a moment. "Are you sure?"
As she had been with everything recently, she answered, "I'm positive."
"Okay. I'll let Harcourt know. You did good, honey," Leota said, and hung up.
Well, now she was really worried. What if she was wrong? What if Peacemaker and Vigilante were out there somewhere, just hanging out. Maybe they had some beers and got drunk with her brothers, as they said they would.
No. Adrian would've drunkenly texted her something incredibly explicit. He always did that. She could tell the level of drunkenness by how much she blushed. The first time he asked her to peg him, he was very drunk at Chris's house and messaged her:
đ§đ: ca n yu buy a strap o. n?
đ§đ: i hink yo should
đ§đ: tht s o hot
đ§đ: fuk ur ho t bb
đ§đ: pls fuk m e
After that, the messages got too incoherent for her to be able to figure out. Chris soon phoned her so she'd come and pick him up.
Just in case she was wrong, she called Chris. That should've been step one.
In the warehouse, Chris had woken up before Adrian and was scanning the room that they were in. It was filled with henchmen, but Knight and Squire were nowhere in sight. His pocket began vibrating and playing music.
One of the henchmen scoffed, "Your ringtone is Firework by Katy Perry?" Y/N had changed it to that one day as a prank, and Chris had no idea how to change it back to the standard one.
His wife's call woke Adrian up. And fuck. He was tied to a chair yet again. Why was this becoming a regular thing for him?
The henchman took Chris's phone and looked at the caller ID. "Who is Bitchface with the emoji that is pregnant?"
"None of your business."
Unable to keep his mouth shut, Adrian asked, "Wait, you know she's pregnant?" Chris had known before he did? He wasn't sure how he felt about that.
Turning to see his buddy awake, Chris explained, "I was there when she took the first test," and tried gesturing with his hands, but couldn't because they were tied up. "I promise I didn't listen to her pee."
Henchman #1 looked between them and was so surprised that they were so calm about being tied to a chair. The boss had said they were a pair of freaks.
A.R.G.U.S. (well, the remaining members) had gathered in Y/N's living room. Economos was lounging on the couch. Leota was pacing back and forth. Emilia, whose physical therapy had improved so much that she no longer needed a wheelchair, leant against a wall. And finally, Y/N was in her bedroom, turning it upside down as she looked for the remote for what she had allowed Adrian to get for his birthday.
It was when she was still in the hospital and he took her hand to ask, "Babe, can I put a tracker in you or on you, whichever you prefer?"
What? Maybe because of the drugs they were putting in her, she heard him wrong, so she instructed him to repeat what he said. He did and added, "It's just that if something happens again, you won't need to put a bomb in your head."
"That bomb came in handy."
Y/N thought this over. It was a little overprotective, but she rarely ever hid anything from him, so it would be fine. Actually, it would be beneficial.
"Fine," she agreed. He punched the air, then littered her cheeks with happy kisses when she gave in. "Only on the condition that you get one too. I wasn't the only one who got kidnapped."
Double trackers? He could sort that out. After she had fallen asleep, he spent his time enthusiastically googling where to buy this sort of thing. It was in his 3rd hour of searching for the perfect and indiscreet looking necklace for her when he realised Economos would definitely know about this shit.
đ§đ: what's the smallest tracking device you own?
đ»đȘ: Why?
đ§đ: I need two
đ»đȘ: Again, why?
đ§đ: to track someone, duh
đ§đ: are you stupid?
đ»đȘ: Do you want them or not?
đ§đ: very much, soâŠ
đ»đȘ: I'll bring them tomorrow.
Luckily for him, there was an Amazon locker just outside the hospital, and he ordered two necklaces that he knew she'd like. They were slightly different, but he knew which one she'd want.
Economos came through. The tracker was small enough to fit in the space behind one of the letters on the necklace. It was a perfect fit.
As soon as she woke, Adrian jumped to sit next to her on the bed. "Hey, handsome, slow down. Just woke up," she groaned out.
Adrian stroked her cheek - keeping the other hand that clutched the gifts behind his back - and waited for her to sit up. "I can't wait much longer," he whispered and kissed her. "And have I mentioned that you're so beautiful in the morning?"
"What have you done?" She asked. He was being too sweet. Then she remembered. "Oh shit, it's your birthday. I promise I'll give you your present when we get home. It's hidden on top of the wardrobe."
"I know," he confirmed. She knew he had because the wrapping paper was slightly ripped. "I've always wanted a Lego Death Star." She knew he did. He had mentioned it once or twice before. Okay, more like 50 times. Well, 40 at least.
"We can build it once we get back," he continued, "But first, here." He held out the little box in his hand to her. It was his birthday. Why was he giving her a present? She didn't want to ruin the mood by questioning him, but she was curious. She took the box from him and opened it.
"Oh," she breathed. She was surprised that he managed to get a tracker and something to put it on at such short notice. She lifted the necklace out of the box and smiled as she examined it. It was a chain with the word 'Dude' written across a pane of silver in the centre.
Underneath was his. It was the same style but had the word 'Dudette' instead. And underneath that was a little controller to turn the tracking on. They were normal necklaces until they needed to be more than that. "Pookie, this is perfect."
He reached out and placed it around her neck, placing a little peck on the clasp at the back, which landed in the middle of her healing bomb scar. She did the same to him. "Knew you'd like it."
"It's beautiful, baby." He smiled and leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled away as she noticed someone watching them. "John is standing like a perv on the other side of that window."
Economos still couldn't believe that this was the same guy that had once whined about not getting to use a chainsaw in battle. The guy that had to pull his pants all the way down when he peed had a partner who was overjoyed at the prospect of having matching jewellery with him. That was truly the most insane thing that he had ever seen.
If someone as fucked up as Vigilante could get that, so could he.
Getting up on his feet and quickly closing the curtains, Adrian made his way back to Y/N's side and brought her in for a kiss. "I love you," he whispered in her ear as he started clutching the top Leota had bought her. "I can't wait to take this off."
Nurses would definitely walk in on them, as any form of intimacy would raise her heartbeat and they would come in to check on her. They often joked that they knew when she was around Adrian, as the heart rate monitor would beep at a higher frequency for a few seconds before returning to normal. Plus, would sex in a bustling hospital constitute public indecency?
"I promise I'll let you do whatever you want to me as soon as we get home," she flirted.
He smirked. "Whatever?"
"Yep," she confirmed, then peppered sloppy kisses down his jaw as she whispered, "I still haven't given you your final present, and I know you really want this one." He knew what that meant. Maybe he didn't have to give up on his dream birthday situation. He just had to move it a few days.
Snapping back into reality, she finally got to the last place it could be in: their sex toy drawer. Just as she threw a dildo behind her onto the bed, Economos walked in. "Oh. Fuck. I'll pretend I didn't see that," he stuttered out.
John averted his eyes as she emptied the drawer onto the floor. Every sex toy under the sun came spilling out. Blindfolds, butt plugs, nipple clamps, floggers, cuffs, vibrators, dildos, and a sharp knife, to name a few. "I've never seen so much plastic in my life." He picked up a couple of butt plugs with a confused look on his face. "What do these do?"
Taking it out of his hand, she said, "You probably don't want to touch that." Gross. Economos left the room and immediately washed his hands. He realised what he had just touched. That had probably been up Adrian's ass. He had to shake that thought out of his head.
"Got it," she exclaimed. It was the remote. It took them no time to turn it on and get Vigilante's location. Bless Adrian and his need for safety. It had saved his life multiple times before and had done it again.
The crew crowded around John's laptop as he tracked the boys. They were in an abandoned building that used to be a storage facility for Hot Topic. Why on earth would they be there? "It's close," Emilia said. "We should be able to be there in twenty minutes."
Y/N nodded. "Let's go."
Leota knew Y/N was going to insist on joining them, but she still argued, "Adrian would actually murder us if anything happened to you. We would be dead before your body would even be cold."
That was true.
"You better hope nothing happens to me then." Nothing was stopping her from saving her husband. Nothing they could say would be able to hold her back. It was her fault he was in this mess, so it was up to her to get him out of it.
Leota drove as Emila and Y/N discussed a plan. John kept his eyes on the tracker location just in case it moved. It hadn't yet.
That was because Vigilante and Peacemaker were still bickering. It had moved onto the subject of what the best Star Wars movie was. "Phantom Menace sucks, bro," Peacemaker yelled.
"It's funny," Vigilante retorted. "Watch it as a comedy and you'll enjoy it. Liam Neeson in a wig?" He started laughing at the thought of Qui-Gon Jinn. "Gets me every time."
Henchman #1 had given up trying to get them to shut up ages ago. He had gone on a break, so Henchman #2 had taken over. #2 didn't mind this conversation. He thought it was quite funny. "You do remind me of Jar Jar Binks," he said, pointing to Vigilante. He did his best impression of the Gungan, "Me so stupid."
Peacemaker had to agree a little but warned, "Hey, only I can make fun of him!"
"Yeah, only Peacemaker can make fun of me," Vigilante repeated. Then he added, "Well, him and my wife. They're the only people allowed to make fun of me."
#2 couldn't believe his ears. Vigilante had a wife? The freakier of the freaks had a wife? They could use that information. "That is information that I'm sure the boss will love to hear about."
It was at that moment that Percival and Cyril walked back into the room without their masks on. "What would I love to know, Tony?" Percy asked.
Oh, Adrian had fucked up. Seriously fucked up. "Vigilante has a wife, don't you?"
Adrian kept his mouth shut, which was hard, but he was trying.
Cyril was quick to respond, "Well, that is good leverage. Almost as good as seeing what that face looks like under that mask." He made his way up to Adrian and reached for the bottom of his visor. Vigilante shifted, trying to prevent being unmasked, but it was useless.
With one quick tug, his face was visible to his brother-in-laws. "Adrian?" They both exclaimed. Now they knew why she said, 'Every single man in my life is a fucking vigilante'.
Henchman #2 asked, "You know the annoying one, boss?"
Percy nodded, fully understanding the situation they were in now, and answered, "Yeah, he's our sister's husband."
Y/N hadn't told Chris that part. He knew her brothers were in town but he had no idea they were fucking Knight and Squire. "Wait, what? Y/N didn't say jack shit about this!" Peacemaker argued. His little friend hadn't told him something? That annoyed him. "Shit, no wonder she wanted you to fuck off and go home."
Outside the building, Y/N and Emilia were arguing. "You said that last time and look what you did," Emilia pointed out.
"I will wait for backup this time. Okay? I will," Y/N replied. It was easy to understand why it was hard for Harcourt to trust her to go through with a plan after what she had done the last time. "I'll go in and stall while you guys take down as many of their guys as you can."
Leota patted Y/N on the shoulder and handed her an earpiece. "You're going to kick ass, believe me."
"Right back at you, hot stuff."
Keeping her hands held up in surrender, Y/N walked towards the building. She knew there were security cameras (John had hacked into them). The plan was to get caught. She didn't think it would be such a hard thing to do.
Almost immediately, two gun-wielding mobsters rushed to her side and brought her into the building. "You try anything, we kill the hostages. You understand, bitch?"
She nodded, keeping her expression placid. "Of course."
"Hey, you fucking pig!" A familiar voice growled. "You touch her, I'm going to fucking kill you."
"Adrian, I'm fine," she reassured him. Their eyes met, and she subtly winked at him. Her hand brushed against her necklace to tell him how she found out where he was being kept. He seemed to get the hint. "I'm sorry. The ride here took longer than I expected," she said and smiled. "Had to uber, you see."
He looked at her disapprovingly. What was her game plan?
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Percy demanded, pushing his men off her. How had she found them? Had she followed them last night?
Casually, she tried making her way towards Vigilante, but Knight put his arm out to stop her. "Oh, you know, had to make sure my brothers didn't kill my husband for a crime I committed," she admitted as if she were talking about the weather or what she wanted to wear tomorrow, not as if she was confessing to the murder of their parents.
Cyril just gaped at her from where he stood. "It was you who..." Cyril started before trailing off, unsure of what to say.
"Tell us the truth," Percy snapped and held a gun to Vigilante's head. "Who kidnapped mum?"
"Well, they did that bit," she responded like it didn't faze her. It did. An awful lot. She had to pretend like she didn't care too much about Chris and Adrian; that would ensure that their harm couldn't be used as leverage. Or, at least, that's what she thought. "I'm the one who drowned her."
Laura's real cause of death hadn't been revealed to the family. The cover-up had framed it as a gas explosion, but Knight and Squire had found out the real cause when they broke into the coroner's.
Through her earpiece, John said, "Ads and Harcourt are making their way from the back now. Keep talking."
It was going to take all of her will to stay composed as Y/N teased, "Oh, and daddy? I put a bullet in his brain just to complete the set." Her voice was mostly steady, maybe a little shaky at the end.
"You sick bitch! That's our father!" Cyril cried out and aimed his gun at her. Y/N laughed.
"You mean your father?" This could be a time to test the allegiances of their hired muscle. She recognised one of them from Gotham. These were the remnants of Loman's men. "My father is Lawrence Loman."
Some of the henchmen looked at each other. By the rules of succession, they should be her men. Percival had walked in one day and claimed that Loman had named him as the next in line, and they were so scrambled that they went along with it. "Since my father is dead, I guess that makes me The Squid." She turned to the henchmen and waved. "Hi boys."
One of the henchmen asked, "You're The Squid?"
"I'm The Squid," she confirmed. "And if we're doing it by who killed The Squid, that would make him." She pointed towards Adrian. "The Squid. But, obviously, he was working on my orders so it comes back to me again. Either way you want to play it, dear brother, you've taken my crown."
"Fuck's sake. You can't be serious," Perce gasped. Apparently, he had an idea of what she was up to and didn't like it. "Your orders? Vigilante was acting under your orders?"
Time for some proper acting. "You think I married him because he's kind? He's sweet?" She questioned and lowered the guns in her brother's hand. "He's a serial killer. He's not sweet."
Adrian knew she was fibbing to them, but it still hurt a little. The words came off her lips so easily, and if he didn't know everything about her, he would've believed her. It scared him a little that she was so good at this little charade. "I'm sorry, Percival. If you want to leave here with your life, untie my lapdog," she said, making it sound like she genuinely meant it. "And his meathead friend."
Chris retorted, "Hey! My head may be a little bigger than a normal guy's, but that's because I'm so muscular." He had no idea why she was acting this way.
Cyril had gone his whole life with his older brother always telling him what to do, and now his younger sister was trying the same. "You don't get to order us around," he yelled at her, his hand shaking as he pointed his gun in her direction. "You don't get to tell us what to do."
"That's good, Cyril," she said, her voice becoming venomously soft. "Are you finally going to stand up for yourself? Couldn't do it to Percy but I'm less likely to punch you if you disobey, right?"
Henchman #1 (who had come back from his break and managed to witness this) and henchman #2 moved behind Peacemaker and Vigilante to remove their bonds. She was in charge and nobody had done what she said yet.
"What are you fucking doing?" Percy shouted to the henchmen. "You work for me, you cunts!"
What an entitled little prick. "That's so mean," she said, looking at her henchmen. "Boys, point your guns at my brothers for disrespecting you." They all did. Peacemaker and Vigilante would've joined in if they were armed. Knight dropped his weapon. Squire lowered his. Mission accomplished without the need for A.R.G.U.S.
It was at that moment when Harcourt and Adebayo made their way into the room. John was too late on the comms and warned Y/N a second too late. "Ads and grumpy bitch incoming." Harcourt clearly had said something whilst they were making their way in that John didn't like.
"Don't worry about them," she reassured, ensuring that her new army of disciples wouldn't shoot her friends. "They were my backup."
Adebayo made her way over to Chris and checked if he was okay. He was, but he had some questions for Y/N. Just as he was about to ask, Percy retrieved a knife from his belt and held it against his sister's neck while he slowly backed them towards the exit. "I'm not going down without taking her with me," he warned.
Vigilante immediately picked up a gun and aimed it. It wasn't a clear shot from where he was standing, and he didn't have his glasses or visor on. He'd definitely hit his wife if he tried.
Cyril made a snap decision. He had a clear line of sight at his brother and took it. Percy managed to lightly cut her neck as he fell to the ground, clutching his own neck that was quickly pouring blood.
Percy looked up at Cyril to whisper, "Guess you stood up to me, huh?" Then he let out one final breath and went limp.
Y/N turned to Cyril and threatened, "Go back home to your wife and kids. If I catch you in America again, I'll kill them first." She would never do that. He didn't know that and quickly dropped his weapon, then proceeded to rush out. He was definitely going to get the first plane out.
Turning around to the henchmen, she ordered, her facade dropping, "You're going to report to Harcourt for the time being."
Emilia didn't know what to do with these mob guys. Should they go to jail? Probably. Could she use them as assets? Also, probably. Plus, if they ever stepped out of line, she'd get them done for racketeering, so that was a backup plan.
Adrian hurried his way to his wife and inspected her cut, getting her blood all over his hands. It wasn't deep, but it was bleeding a lot. "Sorry about all that shit I said," she apologised. It was a lie on his behalf, but it was still mean. "I didn't mean it."
"I kind of am your lapdog, though. I'm your little bitch," he joked. He put his hand against her cheek, then realised that he had covered her face in blood and comically grimaced. "Shit, sorry." She didn't care. She took his chin and pressed their lips together.
It didn't matter that people were watching them. He needed to know she still thought the world of him. That hadn't changed.
A.R.G.U.S. watched as the couple kissed in a bloody crime scene. "Gross, guys," Emilia yelled. "Get a room." Adrian replied by flipping her off and deepening the kiss.
"Leave them be," Chris responded with a chuckle. "You know, I almost died too."
Leota and John got the hint. They moved away to give their coworkers some space. Before she left, Leota gave Chris a supportive thumbs-up over Emilia's shoulder. "Did you miss me?" He asked.
"No," she lied, then gave him a peck on the cheek right before she instructed the mobsters with their orders, which was to wait patiently for the next mission. This was the most affection he had ever gotten from her.
Breaking their snog, Adrian couldn't help but place his hands on her stomach, just to feel it. "I have to be so careful," he said. "If anything happened to you, I can't⊠I can'tâŠ"
Then he got an idea. It was an idea he'd never thought he'd ever get. He moved out of Y/N's grasp and walked over to Harcourt. "Kick me off A.R.G.U.S."
"Done." Fuck, that was easy. When he seemed surprised at Emilia's quick reaction, she explained, "You weaselled your way onto this team. We can do it without you, so go be with your pregnant wife." How did she know? Had Chris told her? Actually, it was more likely that she had seen him mere minutes before feeling Y/N's stomach. That tends to happen for one reason.
That night, the couple snuggled on the couch as soon as they got home. Leota had patched up her cut and it would heal in a couple of days. Raising her head off his chest to look him in the eye, she joked, "I went to Hot Topic and all I got was this stupid open wound."
Chuckling, he responded, "That's not funny," and pulled her closer to him. He wouldn't let go for a very long time. Well, until she needed a pee. She told him he wasn't allowed in because he tried to follow her in. There is a difference between being attached at the hip metaphorically and physically.
45. Happily Ever After
Always one to use her new name, Y/N Chase finished her book and sent it off to her publishers a week after Percy died. This would be Taylor Savage's last book. From now on, she was planning on writing children's books under her own name. She wanted to make novels that she could read to her kid.
The rest of the 2nd month of her pregnancy went swimmingly. The couple made it to the first ultrasound without issue. Adrian could barely contain his excitement as they got dressed that morning. "I read on the Internet that he's the size of a large orange," he announced as he pulled his shirt on. "That's around 10 cm, which is kind of crazy to me."
She was in the process of trying to get her jeans done up but couldn't. "Looks like it's joggers for me," she quipped. His face beamed with glee as he threw a pair of his sweatpants at her. This was actually happening. It was evident in her body that he was actually going to be a father. The bump was clear for anyone to see.
"Stop staring at me," she playfully warned as she looked around the room for her shoes. Where the actual fuck were they?
"Stop being so sexy then," he retorted, immediately finding them and placing them in front of her. "Seriously, what would you do without me?"
Jokingly, she admitted, "I'd probably be in the mob," and that was 100% true.
Once they were done getting ready, Adrian drove them to the doctors. It seemed like no time had passed when they got into the sonographer's room for the dating scan. It was like watching a strange TV. Their baby was projected on the screen as Dr Balls (a name which both of them found incredibly funny but managed to keep in their laughter) slid the transducer across Y/N's stomach.
"That's the baby?" Adrian asked, unsure of what he was supposed to be looking at. "That blob?"
"Yes, that little blob is Chase Jr."
"Fucking sick."
After that day, Adrian kept a photo of their 'little blob' in his wallet and never took it out.
When they got home, she slumped on the sofa and waited for him to get ready for work. But he didn't. He just sat down next to her and turned the TV on. "Doesn't your shift start in half an hour?"
"Shit. I forgot to tell you," he began as he pulled her legs onto his lap so she'd be more comfortable. It slipped his mind. "I quit."
"What?" That came out harsher than she'd meant it too. "Why... why did you do that?"
"I think you know why," he shrugged. She did. She loved his dedication, but she didn't want to feel like a burden to him. He would get seriously bored gazing at her as she wrote. It wasn't a fun job to watch.
Bringing her hand to the nape of his neck and gently twirling his hair around her finger, she gave him a look that essentially said, 'you know what to do.' So he replied with, "I'll find another job."
That was easier than she expected. She had assumed that he'd need more convincing than that. Maybe he knew that he'd become restless without anything to do. He promised to only do his Vigilante shit on the weekends (she said he could continue as normal, but he insisted), so that left the rest of the week completely wide open in his schedule.
As the weeks passed, Y/N got more and more bulbous. Adrian found it incredibly cute when her tops no longer fit over the bump and her belly poked out of the bottom. It did make him smile every time.
"Ade, I've got to get new clothes," she complained and tried to find her bag. "I'm going to be the size of a whale."
"Just wear mine," he replied. She had been wearing his and they were becoming too small.
Pointing to the shirt she was wearing, she retorted, "I am." At this point, he couldn't tell the difference between their clothes.
On his first day at his new job, which was as a self-defence instructor, he had accidentally put a pair of her panties on instead of his boxers. Luckily, nobody else found out, but he thought it was hilarious, and when he came back home and told her, she did too.
Her appetite was becoming weird too, and he tried to eat whatever she was craving, but some of them were downright disgusting. "Here are your flaming hot cheetos," he said, handing the packet over to her. "And here is your dipping sauce, you absolute freak." It was yoghurt. She had found out that her cravings were quenched by soggy fermented milk-covered cheetos.
To her, it tasted like ambrosia, so she didn't really care that much that it was an odd combo. She dipped a chip into the yoghurt and held it out to her husband. "Wanna try?"
Adrian took a deep breath and decided to open his mouth to try it. He was surprised when it wasn't actually that bad and let her feed him more. Some of the yoghurt dropped down his chin, so she licked it off for him.
"That turned me on. I'm happy to admit that," he announced. She stopped him from kissing her, as she was too busy eating, but the rest of their evening was spent laughing and talking about their plans for the future.
About 28 weeks in, as Adrian was brushing his teeth, he heard Y/N call his name. He rushed in to find her with a huge grin on her face. "Come here," she beckoned. He went over to her, curious to find out what she wanted.
Gently, she took his hands and placed them in the area where she had felt the kicking. She looked up at him and said, "Megatron is really fucking active tonight."
He had never felt it before. Their little life was a rowdy motherfucker. He grinned like an idiot as he felt the little jabs in his hand. "I think that one was a sweeping crane kick," he joked. "You're a fighting menace, just like your father."
She reached out and wiped some toothpaste from his mouth, then replied, "Let's hope you're not as messy as your father."
Pulling her into his arms, he jovially argued, "I'm the messy one? Which one of us has a hard time finding her shit?"
"That's a good point," she laughed. "Sorry about that."
Adrian didn't care. He was used to it by now. But, he still said, "Kiss me and I might forgive you."
"Using my own lines against me, that's a low blow, Mr Chase," she teased as she placed her arms around his shoulders.
"And I'm not half as good at blowing as you are, Mrs Chase," he replied, just before he leant towards her and captured her lips in a passionate kiss, which only stopped because Adrian felt a small poke. "I guess he wants me to stop attacking you with my mouth."
"Only you could make kissing sound violent."
Chuckling, he proudly announced, "I am one of a kind."
One night, as they were in bed, he smushed his face into her neck and softly began pressing his lips to her skin, making a series of light kisses to every sensitive point in her ear, down her collarbone, over her heart and finally to her lips. She moaned a little as his breath moved over her before he gently bit her lower lip.
She was going to let him continue but suddenly felt a slight popping sensation and placed her hand on his cheek to stop him. "Adrian, does your leg feel wet?"
Now that she mentioned it, it did. He hadn't noticed. He nodded. What was going on? Looking him dead in the eyes, she explained, "I think my water just broke." That makes sense. She had been feeling contraction-like sensations for the past couple of hours but brushed them off as mental symptoms that were trying to make her anxious.
"Holy shit," he whispered, before kissing her more madly. He took this opportunity to joke, "Fuck, this is the wettest you've ever been for me."
"That's not funny," she said, unable to hide her grin.
Pushing himself up, he rushed out of bed and looked for his phone to call the midwife. She couldn't help but find it funny that he was in his underwear with a very obvious boner, hysterically throwing clothes around the room to find his phone. He found it on the floor and saw that the screen was broken to pieces since he had chucked it off the bed. "Holy shit, it's fucked! What the fuck is going on?"
She heard the panic in his voice and soothed, "Hey, hey, just use mine."
"How are you so calm? You are in labour!" he asked, his voice getting so high.
That was a good question. Maybe it was because her water breaking just felt like she had peed and the painful contractions hadn't started yet. Maybe it was because her panicking would cause his reaction to get more extreme, and that is the last thing they needed. "Listen to me. I will call Abigale. You sit down and take some breaths," she reassured him.
Doing as she said, he flopped face first onto the bed and tried to calm himself down as she spoke on the phone. "Hi, Abi. I just want to let you know that my water just broke," she greeted down the phone, her hand finding its way to Adrian's head so she could scratch his head to help ease him.
Abigale explained what to do next, then cheerfully enquired, "How's Adrian reacting?"
"He's having a hard time breathing," Y/N joked. Adrian looked up, his eyes full of hope and fear, and gave her a thumbs-up to indicate that he was okay.
"Least he's conscious enough to drive you here," Abi retorted with a laugh. "Make sure to get here when the contractions get closer together."
With that, she hung up and tried to help her husband calm down. With a chuckle, she began to carefully massage his shoulders and back, which helped him breathe a little better. "Fuck," he said when he had himself together. "This should be the other way around."
"Just wait for my real contractions to start," she explained, wiping some sweaty curls off his forehead. "This is nothing compared to what I'll be like."
In a serious tone, he replied, "I'm scared."
"I'm not," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "You're going to do great. The best, actually. We've faced worse than a baby."
That got a laugh out of him. "I don't even have to do anything. You're the one who has to push the little blob out." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his chest, then warned, "Don't kiss me. My boner just went down and I don't want to have to deal with the whole contraction thing whilst being rock hard."
Luckily for him, two hours later when her contractions finally started to become more frequent as she was in the transitional phase, he didn't have an erection and was fully ready (well, as ready as he could be) to deal with them.
They made it to the hospital without much hassle. While he drove, he took her hand and reminded her, "Deep breaths. Take deep breaths."
"I know how to fucking breathe!" She yelled back. He didn't take his gaze off the road as she squeezed his hand when the sensations became painful. "Fuck. Should've let you cum literally anywhere else."
"I think I've cum on every part of your body so that argument is kind of invalid," he stated back then and wished he'd never said anything when he glanced over at the glare she was giving him.
They made it inside and were ushered into a delivery room. It was quickly becoming apparent that it was pushing time. And fuck, did it hurt. For Y/N and Adrian, as she was clamping down hard on his hand. "You're so sweaty," he pointed out, his voice a rasp, then joked in the hope of making her laugh, "It looks really sexy. It gives you a 'just hopped off splash mountain and now I've got to fight a Xenomorph' look."
It did make her laugh. "Shut the fuck up," she chuckled out. The midwives also seemed to find the interaction humorous, as they couldn't help but smile at the couple.
Everything went to plan until the doctor told Adrian that the baby was crowning and he took a peek. His eyes went wide, then rolled to the back of his head as he passed out in his seat at the sight. Clearly, the nurses were used to this, as they continued as if this were normal. Y/N couldn't help but laugh at him. This guy had murdered a countless number of people and wasn't squeamish in the slightest but passed out when she was the one in pain. It was actually quite sweet. He quickly woke up and started encouraging her again.
The midwives got to work, and after about 80 minutes of pushing, Y/N found herself with a whiny little baby boy in her arms. Their little guy looked like an alien: he was all red and blotchy and weird-looking. Still, she loved him instantly.
"Hey, little blob," she cooed and tilted him so his father could see him. Adrian hesitantly went to brush his son's cheek, but the baby held on to his finger and tried to put it in his mouth. "You don't want to eat Daddy's finger, do you?"
One of the nurses offered Adrian a pair of surgical scissors and asked, "Do you want to cut the cord or are you going to pass out again?"
"I'll do it," he mumbled, a bit miffed that he was being teased about that. He was still shaky but quickly got over it as he snipped the cord. That was easy.
Soon all of the palaver was over, and Y/N finally got the chance to sleep. That meant Adrian was left with the little blob in his arms and a big grin on his face. "Hi, Megatron," he greeted plainly. The child stared wildly up at him and began giggling. "Shhh, your mummy is sleeping."
Holding his son, he decided to lift him by placing his hands under the baby's armpits and raising them slightly higher than his head and began to sing, "Ahh zabenya, I don't know the words to this song." He glanced over at the nurse. "Do you?"
"No, I don't speak Zulu," she replied, raising a brow at him before she went back to the task at hand. He didn't even know the Circle of Life was another language; he just thought they were chanting nonsense. "Be careful with his head."
It was at that moment that the baby began to cry, and Adrian had no fucking clue what to do. He just assumed that if you had a child, then you just instinctively gained a clue of what to do, so he looked over at the nurse and asked, "How do I stop this?"
"I don't think you can," she explained, then moved to wake Y/N up. "He's hungry."
"Oh," was all he could say as he looked down at his son. He was so clueless that he handed the baby over to Y/N so she could feed him. He joked that, "Ah, he's just like me," when he saw Y/N breastfeeding. She jovially chucked the pillow behind her at him.
He couldn't help but smile at her as he watched as she cradled his son and softly hummed to him. He was mesmerised, enthralled in a way he didn't think was possible.
Y/N spoke to the nurse for a bit and inquired, "We haven't thought of a name yet-"
"We have. It's Megatron."
She shook her head and ignored his comment. "We haven't thought of a good name yet. Got any ideas?" She questioned, looking over at him.
The nurse examined the baby and came to the conclusion, "Looks like a Dorian to me."
"Dorian?" Y/N queried. That could work. "Dorian Chase?"
Adrian liked that. It made sense to him. She seemed to like it too, as she beamed at him. Yes, he thought he had himself a winner. Obviously, Megatron was choice #1 but Dorian was a close #2. "It'll do," he teased before kissing Y/N on the forehead.
A day later, they were back in the privacy of their own home. Dorian was a bit fussy and giggled a lot, but he was happy and that was all that mattered.
The trio were all cuddled up on the couch when Chris knocked on the door and entered without being invited in. Y/N lifted her head off Adrian's chest and called out, "Hey, Pissmaker," which caused Dorian to start laughing. He seemed to laugh at everything.
Chris had brought them some food from Fennel Fields, which was greatly appreciated because neither of them wanted to cook, and a present for his godson. It was a small eagle plushie. A soft mini Eagly. "He can't meet Eagly for a while because he will bite his hand off, so I thought I'd make it so he could," Chris explained as he set the toy in the child's hands.
The baby immediately tried to put it in his mouth, getting it all slobbery. Adrian watched with amusement as the attempt to swallow the plushie resulted in a huge mess. "I think he likes it."
"Want to hold him?"
"My doctor said that my hands are so strong that I'm not allowed to hold babies," Chris lied. He had no idea why he was reluctant to hold the baby. The kid looked normal. It definitely wasn't a butt baby.
"Your doctor said that?" Y/N asked, completely seeing through his fib and picking Dorian off Adrian's chest to place in Chris's arms. The little blob stared up at Chris, then puked all over his shirt.
Chuckling, Chris wiped down his shirt and handed the kid to Adrian so he could clean him up. "Ah, the kid's smart," Adrian joked.
Peacemaker left them when Dorian started to get hungry. He bid them farewell and left with a grin on his face. He had to admit that he had a fondness for that weird little tyke.
"That is another thing that I love about this," Adrian declared. "Breastfeeding means that you constantly have to get your tits out."
"I know, right?" she agreed. She was beaming like a fool and couldn't resist bringing him in for a kiss. "Want to put him to bed?"
"Fuck yes," he replied, scooping Dorian up and taking him to his crib. He remembered the difficulty he had building that fucking thing, but it was all worth it. He placed Dorian in the crib and gently kissed him on the head before closing the door.
Over the next few months, it wasn't odd to find Adrian and Dorian sat next to each other having an incoherent conversation. "I agree with that, Dory," Adrian began, wiggling the little one's arms. "It's true that they're your enemies. I agree that dolphins can be a little scary sometimes."
Dorian babbled in response as if he understood what was being said, so Adrian responded, "You are totally right, my boy. It is the blowhole that is the off-putting part. Like, what are they hiding in there?"
Y/N knew what he was about to ask. "Before you ask, gay dolphins do not have sex through the blowhole," she said as she walked in from her nap and took a seat next to her boys.
As soon as she sat down, Adrian got up and rushed to the bedroom. "What is your daddy doing?" She asked Dorian, who just made a silly sound back. "Uh-uh, he is a strange guy. You've hit the nail on the head with that one, blob."
He arrived back with a present in his hands and handed it to his wife. "I got this for you," he said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Why?"
Had she forgotten? "It's your birthday, baby." The look on her face made it clear that she had no idea what day it was. She was too busy to keep up with meaningless shit like that. Adrian watched as she opened his gift and held it out in front of her.
Repaired back to its former glory, she examined David's watch. It looked like it always used to. She had decided to take it off during her pregnancy, and that gave Adrian the perfect time to send it off to be mended. He was a total fucking genius.
A huge grin spread across her face, and she ran her fingers over the face of the watch. Before he could ask if she liked it or not, she pulled him in for a snog. "I love you," she said when she let him go.
"Back atcha," he replied. "I also got you one of those electronic typewriters, but it hasn't arrived yet. So... did I do good?"
"What do you think, Dory? Did your pa do good?" The baby excitedly clapped his hands together. "I think that's a yes."
"That's definitely a yes," Adrian retorted and placed his arm around his wife's shoulders. "I can't help being the best husband and father ever created. It's just what I do. I'm the best."
Where the hell did that confidence come from? She liked it nonetheless. It was very sexy. "Since it's my birthday, how do you feel about Dory going to bed early so I can show you how much I loved your gifts?" She asked, tracing her fingers across his bicep.
"God, yes," he replied, pulling her in for another kiss, which was stopped quickly when Dory made it very apparent that he needed his nappy changed. Adrian was on the case. He'd admit he'd seen some fucked-up shit in his life, but nothing was as daunting as nappies. "We'll continue this later. I have to take care of my main man."
As they walked out of the room, Dorian was babbling incredibly loudly, so Y/N joked, "What a turd," under her breath.
Arguing wasn't something the pair did often, but they never seemed to agree on the development of their baby. Adrian was always overprotective and never wanted them to try to encourage little Dory to do anything that he thought was unreasonable. "Ade, he won't learn unless we teach him," she stated, holding Dory by the armpits so he could stand, his little legs instinctively moving.
Letting out a sigh, Adrian replied, "Literally every piece of advice says it is too early."
"He'll be six months old in four days. He's a sturdy enough boy to try," she explained. His concern was sweet, but Dorian seemed to be a pretty fast learner.
"Maybe, but I'd rather not take that risk," Adrian replied and watched as his son's eyes widened before he dropped his butt on the floor to crawl towards his dad, who bent down and scooped him up into his arms. Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight of her two dashing, adorable little dum-dums.
After making funny faces for a while, Adrian looked at his watch. He said, "Sorry, bud, I've got to go to work," and placed Dory back on the ground. It didn't faze the little tyke, who got up on his feet without assistance and walked to grasp onto Adrian's trouser leg.
"Do not say I told you so," he playfully warned his wife as she had a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.
"Wouldn't dream of it," she teased whilst getting up to give him a goodbye kiss. She lifted the little blob up and waved his hand as Adrian left for his shift.
Life carried on like that for a while. Each day, Dorian got more developed and talkative. His first word was "Cunt", which they found very funny. Chris had made it his mission to teach him how to say that and was overjoyed when he called Adrian it. He'd taught him a few other words, and Dorian's vocabulary of swears was increasing by the week.
As Y/N sang a lullaby to him one night, he burped and said, "Bitchface."
"You've spent too much time with Uncle Chris," she laughed, looking down at his sleepy green eyes. As he grew, it was clear who his parents were. He had Adrian's nose and eyes but Y/N's smile and hair. A perfect little mashup.
He was quick to fall asleep. Adebayo had brought her dogs around and he had been fascinated with them. He'd watched them for a long time, pointing with his chubby little ravioli hands, smiling and laughing when they licked his face.
Years passed and Adrian managed to convince Y/N to have another kid by swearing that he 'could feel it in his balls' that it was going to be a girl. Strangely, it was. She had no idea how the absolute fuck he did that.
Dorian was a little shit. He was mischievous and curious and stupid. There was no doubt that he was their child. Just as Adrian had once asked, he somehow convinced them to get a cat for him on his fourth birthday. They had been walking home from the park when a ginger kitten ran out, so he said, "Look, Mummy, a kitty!"
She had been trying to explain to him that he was going to be a big brother but he seemed so focused on the cat. "It's a fucking kitty, kitty, kitty," he chanted, repeating the word like a robot as he walked alongside her.
Y/N laughed. They had gotten in trouble with his preschool because of his swearing. It wasn't his fault; it was Chris's. Stopping in place and lifting his chin so he'd look her in the eyes, a move she still had to do with her husband all of the time, she softly explained, "Dory, it's fine at home, but you've got to stop swearing at school."
He pushed his glasses up his nose and retorted, "Daddy lets me swear."
"Daddy is a pushover." They both knew that was true. She picked him up, knowing he was not going to willingly begin following her due to the cat, and began walking again.
A trait that Dorian had picked up from his mother was her ability to piece things together quickly. He was a smart kid, so when he argued, "So are you. That's why dad is getting another kid," she didn't have an oppositional argument.
Instead, she just smiled and teased, "You little shit."
Adrian had got home from work that day to find his mini-me playing with a kitten in the middle of the living room. "Oh fucking sick, a kitten," he exclaimed and instantly joined in.
Dorian was having a ball, running around with the cat, who was purring and trying to playfully swipe at the boy with her paw. "I see you've met our new cat. What's her name, Dory?" She asked. The name he had picked was very cute.
"Nemo. Like that movie Chris showed me."
Leaving his son to play by himself, Adrian got up and bumped into his wife as she was coming out of the kitchen as he was going in. He immediately held onto her waist and kissed her on the lips, gently and quickly. She pushed him away and handed Dory a juice box.
"Where's mine?" Adrian whined.
She took one out of her back pocket and gave it to him. He thought the fabric of her butt looked a little disfigured when he ogled her as she walked past him. "It's been awhile, huh?" She teased, having totally caught where his gaze wandered too. It hadn't been that long. Maybe a couple of days.
"Sadie and John are free this Thursday, if you want to have a date night?" He informed her as he pulled them into the kitchen to not scar their son, his hands slipping under her t-shirt.
"Oh god, stop." She laughed as a blush rose to her cheeks and she playfully slapped his hands away when he grabbed at her bra. "That sounds like a plan."
Out of sight from their child, Adrian decided that this was the perfect time for a make-out sesh with his wife. He gave her an eager, hungry kiss that ended when he pulled back. He realised that, "We've done the exact opposite of what I said we would."
"What?"
Further explaining, he remembered what he had said ages ago, "We got married, baby, then got cats. We flipped it around."
That was what he came up with when he first brought up the subject of a child. It was when her parents were still alive and stayed in her house. That felt like a lifetime ago. "Well, that way is more traditional," she retorted.
"We've never been traditional before," he joked. That was an understatement.
The pair pondered this until they were interrupted by Dorian, who held out his hand and told them, "I'm bleeding." The kitten had scratched him.
His dad was on it. Adrian lifted him up next to the sink and washed his little boo-boo with such care. "Do you prefer Transformers or little hearts?" He asked.
"Little hearts."
"You got it, little man," Adrian said as he gently wrapped his son's finger with the plaster.
"Did you hiss at the cat?" She asked. Dorian shook his head, but the look on his face gave it away. Just like his father, he was awful at lying. She took his cheeks and lightly squeezed. "You are so, so bad at lying, mister."
Vigilante was rarely seen anymore. Maybe on the occasional weekend, since Adrian came home once with a huge gash on his chest and left a blood stain on their carpet. That was difficult to explain to a child. He got a warning from his wife that ensured he'd become more careful about his violent hobby. "Ade, you have to be quieter when you come in," she softly chastised as she cleaned his wound.
"Sorry, baby," he replied as he walked over to their bed to pick up some bandages. She rolled her eyes and went back to tending to his cut. Despite how many times she had done this, she never got used to it. And he never got used to the pain. But they got through it like they always did and ended the process with a comforting kiss.
Straddling him, she moved his head so he'd stop looking at her tits and reiterated, "Seriously, pookie, you have to be smarter about things these days." She didn't want him to act like a dumbass from now on. Well, a dumbass when he fought. It had caused enough trouble to their lives.
"I'm trying," he replied, exasperated.
It was nice to feel his strong arms around her. Even though they'd been together for quite a while now, she felt as she did before everything had happened. Before the kids. Before the patricide and matricide. Before the kidnappings. Before everything. "Keep trying," she said. She tried to keep a neutral expression, but he could see the pleading in her eyes. "I don't want you to-"
"I know," he interrupted her. He knew that look, and he loved her even more for it. He stroked her hair and whispered, "I know."
"Want to fuck?"
Was that even a question she needed to ask anymore? "Always."
Her apartment was no longer big enough to hold their growing family and Adrian had sold his family home years before so they had to move. Much to Chris's dismay (that's how he phrased it), their new home was much closer to Peacemaker's house.
This also meant that Adrian could notice just how often Emilia visited Chris. It was a lot. Too much for 'just friends'. It was around the same amount of times that Adrian had invited himself over to Y/N's when they were 'just friends'.
Being around 6 months meant that Y/N was huge so when she tried to help carry their belongings into the house, Adrian swooped in and took the box from her hands. "Ade, I can carry things. My arms aren't affected," she reminded him.
"I know, but I like carrying things for you," he said as he made his way inside. He set the box down and smiled. "Plus, I don't trust you to not drop my precious belongings."
"What precious belongings?"
Sure, he owned some memorabilia and dorky figurines and shit but, honestly, he didn't really give much of a shit about material things. But he could use her inquiry to be suave. "The only precious belonging I have is you," he flirted, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "And Dory, of course. And our new blob."
As he pulled her in closer, he could feel her relax. Moving houses is stressful. So is being pregnant. Double stress. He was just happy that he could relieve some of that. Despite how at ease he was making her, she still teased, "I belong to you? I'm not my own person?"
He grinned and kissed her temple. "I own you. You're all mine."
"Wow, and I thought you said you were a feminist," she joked as her hand came up to lightly play with his hair.
Checking his watch, he mentally cursed and whispered in her ear, "If Chris wasn't just about to arrive after picking Dory up from school, I'd bend you over these boxes."
Children are such cockblocks. Her arousal shot through the roof, and she blushed, but no, they couldn't. That would be irresponsible. And would probably end up with one scarred child and one scarred Peacemaker. Instead, she just turned around and kissed Adrian; that would have to do for now.
She tried to only give him a light peck, but (like usual), he wanted more. And, like usual, he didn't give her time to argue. His tongue invaded her mouth, and all she could do was reciprocate. She always gave in so easily when it came to him.
Just as his hands made their way down to her ass, they heard a little voice say, "Ew, gross," followed by a bigger voice that repeated the same sentiment. The pair instantly broke apart and saw that they hadn't closed the front door. Chris had Dorian on his shoulders as they looked in, both with disgusted looks on their faces.
"Hey, bud, want to see your new room?" Adrian asked, as if nothing had happened. The boy nodded and Chris lifted him down so he could follow his dad further into the house.
As they walked, Dory looked up and stated, "Why were you attacking mummy with your mouth?" Adrian had no idea what to say to that. He looked back at his wife and shrugged. Maybe the birds and bees talk would have to happen sooner than he had planned.
Their baby girl had a quicker labour process than Dorian, which Y/N was extremely thankful for. Adrian didn't pass out that time and was very proud of himself because of that. Within a couple of hours, Y/N was holding her little girl, who had a loud cry as she entered the world. Now that summed her up: loud.
Dorian had been a fairly quiet baby so they were barely prepared for the ear-splitting cries that emanated from such a small being. It was quite uncomfortable to bear and the shrill abruptness of it often caused Y/N to wince. Nonetheless, they persevered.
When she was first introduced to Dorian, he asked, "What is it?"
"It's your sister, kiddo," Adrian explained. He thought Dorian would know that. Y/N had given him a very juvenile walkthrough of what pregnancy was and he had seemed like he understood what she said. Dorian didn't reply. He just sat there staring at his sister with the biggest, most curious, most interested eyes, almost as if she were a new species.
Finally, he asked, "What's her name?"
"Dawn." Adrian had picked it. It was his mother's name.
Little Dawn kept the whole family on their incredibly tired toes for the next couple of months. As a way to let him get some sleep, Dorian stayed at John's house for a few days. John seemed an odd choice at first, but it was because he was the only one available. Leota had gone to a dog show across the country. Chris was on a mission. And Emilia refused to have a child running around in her apartment. Anyway, Dorian seemed to like it, as he came back with one of Economos's spare Gameboys, which he found incredibly entertaining.
After successfully getting Dawn to fall asleep by reading one of her novels to the child, Y/N watched as her husband flipped through a photo album, stroking Nemo with his other hand. Adrian didn't do it very often. He only did it when he realised he was just about to forget their faces. "I know you're there," he declared. The sound caused the cat to jump off the sofa and scutter to her bed in the kitchen.
"Can't I gaze at my handsome husband without getting called out on it?" She joked as she sat beside him and placed a kiss on his cheek.
He gestured to the page before him and complained, "It always annoys me that it stops here. Right in the middle of the book."
She brushed some hair behind his ear and thought about how that problem could be solved. It was easy. "So continue it. Put some of our pictures in it."
How had he not thought of that? They had tonnes of pictures. "Oh, baby," he began. Before she could register what was happening, he dropped the album on the table and backed her into the sofa. Leaning down to smooch her, he complimented, "You're a genius."
To add to their growing collection, she brought out her phone and ordered, "Pookie, say cheese." The photo was not his most flattering ever. His hair was a mess and the bags below his eyes were deep. But she loved it.
That night, they spent their time scrolling back through the gallery on their phones and showing each other the little snapshots of their life together. "Oh, I'm definitely putting that one in the album," he teased, showing her the nude she had sent him years before. Playfully, she reached for his phone in an attempt to delete it but he held it away from her. "Hey, hey, that got me through some really hard times."
"Pervert!" she said in mock outrage, keeping her voice quiet enough to not wake the baby.
Adrian soon filled his photo album with stupid pictures of his family. The album quickly became full, so full that he had to buy another one. It was a small thing, but it meant a lot to him. It was proof of their life, of the reason why he was still alive. He would look at his album and think, 'My life. Me and my wife. We did this. We made this.'
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Story Summary -> Adrian makes a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl, but hey, when doesnât he? Sheâs weird, funny, and treats him gently, which obviously makes him obsessed with her, and much to his surprise, she seems to like having him around too. Together, they try to carve out a peaceful life, yet her less than perfect family messes up their harmony.
Can their love survive alley fights, mob bosses, and a robotic eggman? It will be a tough ride, but theyâre prepared to give it a go.
Entire Story Tags -> Dungeons & Dragons References, Gun Violence, Idiots in Love, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Children, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Animal Attack, DC Comics References, Mutual Pining, Bisexual Christopher Smith | Peacemaker, Domestic Fluff, Organized Crime, Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Kidnapping, Mommy Issues, First Meetings, First Kiss, Autism, Long-Term Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Soulmates, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Autistic Adrian Chase, Blood and Violence, Substance issues, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Unplanned Pregnancy, Gotham City is Terrible, Hospitalization, Blood and Injury, Crimes & Criminals, Written Before S2
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Previous Chapter -> 31-35
36. Thumbsized
Tapping her foot against the cold wooden floor, Y/N searched for the right words. How was she going to explain herself? 'Oh, hi brothers that I never really got on with. Yeah, my husband and I murdered our parents when they kidnapped us. Please don't tell anybody or press charges.'
Her brothers had been looking at her expectantly for a while, waiting for her to say something. Anything.
Adrian leaned closer to her and quietly offered, "I could kill them. That would solve the problem." She furrowed her brow and shook her head in response, so he retreated to the bedroom to get ready for work (and to get away from the awkward interaction that was about to occur).
Percival, however, asked, "Well? You know why we're here."
Y/N sighed, "I do."
"So?" Cyril retorted.
"So, do you want the long story or the short story?"
 Both brothers leant forward in anticipation. "Short story," Percy replied.
"Lawrence Loman."
They had guessed that much. Laura's indiscretions were an unspoken fact in the family. The question on their lips was, "What did you do, Y/N?"Â
"I didnât do anything," she lied, shrugging in response to their expressions.
Neither of them knew her well enough to know she wasn't telling the truth, but they still pushed the subject. "Why did they come here?"
This part was more difficult than she thought. She wished she could just tell them the truth, and she wished they didn't want to know. That would be easier. "Mum and Dad wanted to check up on me," she said. That, technically, was true. "And, uh, after a week, mum said she had to go to Gotham."
"Gotham?" They knew what that meant. Important shady business always went down in Gotham.Â
"Yes. I dropped them off in Albany," she confirmed, then fibbed, "And never saw them again." Both brothers looked at each other. They could tell she was hiding something. A lie was spreading throughout the room like wildfire.
The bedroom door opened. Adrian strutted out and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "I'm heading to work. Call if you need me, okay?" He surveyed her brothers and politely stated, "Nice to meet you, I guess."
They shared a look, and then Percy shrugged, "Yeah, you too, mate."
"Was it nice?" Y/N asked. The circumstances could've been better. But, they could've been worse.
Ignoring her comment, Cyril and Percy grilled her about the week she had spent with their parents. She told them the basics. The legal things. Not that her brothers were narcs. Growing up in their household, being a narc was the worst thing ever.
After explaining, she offered them food and drinks. They accepted, so she had to awkwardly hobble to the kitchen to get what they wanted. She returned to the living room to find both of her brothers sitting forward on the couch again, watching the news. She sat down with a sigh.
"How'd you hurt yourself?" Percival's question made her cringe. That was another thing she didn't want to tell them.Â
'Shit, my husband and I fucked so hard and so often last night that it hurts for me to move. That nerdy-looking guy that just left absolutely railed your baby sister and now I'm having trouble walking.'
And, 'Dad totally shot me in the stomach because I scared the living shit out of him. 'Don't worry, I put a bullet straight through his skull and now I'm more emotionally damaged than I was before.'
They didn't need to know that. "I slipped and fell. "That sounded good, not convincing in the slightest, but better than telling them about her sex life.
On the TV, the news started showing a story she would've never seen coming. Knight and Squire were in fact not dead and had been spotted sniffing around in Gotham. She swore Adrian had told her that Loman had killed them. Both of her brothers went quiet as they watched the screen.
It was a little past noon when they finally left for their hotel rooms. They had come straight from the airport to her house, which she found sweet despite the circumstances. And, despite the awkwardness of the morning, she had enjoyed their company, and being in the presence of the last remnants of her father was an added bonus. And a reminder of what she did.
Neither of them acted like him. They were stilted. Stoic. Had quite boring jobs. Before leaving, Cyril turned to his sister and chastised, "Where are your glasses?" She shrugged. They were in a drawer somewhere. "You should wear them. Your eyes will get worse."
Poor eyesight was the least of her worries. If she had worse eyesight, maybe David wouldn't be dead. But an optometrist has to point shit like that out.
As if on cue, Percy asked, "And you're flossing, right?"
"Please get out of my house," she bluntly stated. They were pretending as if they cared about her well-being, which did not add to her excitement about their appearance.
Percy and Cyril exchanged a look. "Will do," they agreed.
As they walked away, she heard Cyril joke, "Hey, at least she said please. That's an improvement."
Slamming the door shut, she let out an angry yell and let every expletive out of her mouth. Even the forbidden wizard swears.
If her siblings had been observant, they would've noticed David's watch securely attached around her wrist. He never took it off. Well, except for showering. Only a fucking idiot would wear a watch in the shower. Unless it was waterproof.
Shaking with fury, she made her way to her bedroom and fell face-first on the bed. That movement hurt, but she didn't give a shit. The level of anger she felt turned to exhaustion as soon as she hit the soft mattress and she instantly fell asleep.
Adrian got worried when he hadn't heard from her in a while. She hadn't come to the restaurant at her normal time, but he expected that: she had other things going on. But when she didn't reply to his messages, he had to phone her just in case. As soon as his break came, he dialled her number and waited for her to pick up.
Waking up in an instant, she groggily reached for her phone, which was luckily still in her back pocket. "Hey, pookie," she greeted him. "What time is it?"
"It's 4:32," he explained. He knew that voice;Â it was her morning voice. Fuck, he loved it.
A loud, obnoxious yawn came out of her mouth and then she softly swore, "Fuck. Must've fallen asleep after they left."
"You alright, babe?"
"Yeah, I think so," she answered warily. "I'm still a little tired. Guess it's the healing, huh?"
He didn't quite believe her. That clearly wasn't the whole story. He went along with it. "Yeah. How was it with your brothers?"
"Oh, they're⊠they're alright. I don't want to talk about it now," she paused, "Maybe when you get back." If she needed him, he would be there no matter how small the problem was. She knew that, so she added, "I'm fine, really. I love you. Stay till the end of your shift."
"You got it, baby," he promised. He didn't expect her to hang up so soon. She had put the phone down before he could tell her that he loved her too. That was weird, but he brushed it off and did as she told him: work a full shift.
Taking her sweet, sweet time, she hobbled to the bathroom for a quick shower. Standing in front of the mirror, she pulled her clothes off and noticed her bandage. It was going to fall off once she got it wet, so why not pull it off? Bare to the world, she winced a bit from the pain but didn't mind. She deserved the pain. At least, she believed she did.
Inspecting it further, she concluded that it wasn't enough so she impulsively pushed her thumb into the bullet wound. Her mouth watered as she bit her lip to keep from screaming in pain. The blood was already starting to ooze, and the wound was beginning to get tender, but she couldn't let go of the pain. It was justified. "Ow, fuck. Owie. That fucking hurts like a bitch," she let out but didn't stop. "This is so stupid. Shit."
Covered from torso to foot in her own blood, she stepped into the shower and it was immediately washed down the drain. She watched as the liquids mixed. Johnny Nihax. The way the aquarium filled with his ichor and how it overwhelmed the serene water sprung to mind.
She couldn't help it. She threw up all over her own feet. Super lucky that she's in the shower. Would be really gross if she did that on a carpeted area.
Removing her hand from her mouth, she realised that she had forgotten to take her father's watch off. It didn't seem broken or damaged in any way. Yet. Her recklessness was becoming a fucking problem. So when she took it off and accidentally smashed the glass pane against the shower wall, she wasn't surprised. It was just another fuck-up on her part.
When Adrian got home two hours later, he searched the house for her. Getting to the bedroom last, he heard the shower running and suspiciously entered.Â
Maybe they would have some wet, hot, sexy times. Who knows?
To his surprise, she was slumped in the corner of the shower, sleeping with the water on. A faint trickle of blood followed the curve of her leg. He watched her, wondering how long she had been lying there like that. That wasn't normal.
Rushing into the shower, not caring that he was still clothed, he knelt before her and lightly slapped her cheeks. Her chest was rising steadily, so she was still alive. He knew that much. He grabbed her wrist and her pulse was strong. Her skin was warm, not clammy or cold. Definitely still alive.
"I'm fine," she grumbled, not opening her eyes.
"Like fuck you are," he exclaimed, scooping her up in his arms and making their way to the bed. He set her down and ordered, "Stay."
Shit. She hadn't even considered moving. Within seconds, he found the first aid kit and began repairing the damage she had done to herself. She hadn't even flinched at all when he pressed the bandage firmly into place.
"Did you know my wound is about the same size as my thumb?" She sadly confirmed his suspicions. It wasn't hard to put together: her finger still had crimson around the nail. He sighed. His beautiful, stupid, irreplaceable girl.
One perfect teardrop fell down her cheek. He brushed it away and forced her to look at him as he sternly said, "Never fucking do that again."
She glared at him as she admitted, "They look so much like him."
He nodded and wrapped his arms around her, her head landing on his waist. "They do," he confirmed. All he wanted was to hear her laugh, so he joked, "They seem really fucking boring too."
Chuckling, she agreed, "Yeah, they are." There it was. Her laugh. That was worth the whole world to him.
Adrian didn't leave her side for the rest of the evening. He even followed her into the bathroom. He didn't trust her not to do something she might regret and he wasn't willing to take that chance.
Burying her head further into his chest, she apologised, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to deal with that." She hadn't meant to put him through that.
Easing her, he playfully taunted, "If you ever hurt my wife again, I'll kill you."
His threats were funny to her, and she laughed, "I'll keep that in mind."
37. Sitter Of Babies
Y/N was fine. She was sure of it. There was not a problem in the world. Adrian knew this wasn't true. "I'm a grown woman," she argued. "I don't need a babysitter."
Tapping the wheel as he drove, Adrian looked across at his wife. Her eyes were bloodshot and had serious bags underneath. To him, she'd always looked beautiful, but currently, she didn't look like herself. She was tired, worn down, and mentally beaten. "Please be nice," he pleaded. "Promise me you'll be nice."
"I'm always nice," she answered. There was a long pause before she admitted, "I don't like feeling like a burden."
"You're not a burden," he insisted, fully meaning it. "I swear to god, you're not a burden."
He reached out and took her hand and brought it to his lips. As he kissed it, he joked, "Chris likes you. Definitely more than he likes me."
That might be true. Chuckling, she retorted, "Now that is something we both agree on."
Smiling, he beamed at her smile. She was going through hell and still managed to joke around. That was just another reason why they worked so well together. Even troubled times could have them giggling.
He parked outside Peacemaker's house and came around to her side of the car to open the door for her with a courtly bow, announcing, "After you, Mrs Chase."
"Thank you, Mr Chase."
They walked through the front door and into the small foyer. The house was quiet and dark, as though the occupants were asleep. Adrian knocked in a fast sequence. "Come in," Chris yelled from the other side of the door. He knew they were coming. Adrian hadn't explained why he needed to watch over Y/N while he was at work, but Chris was willing. Plus, he had nothing else to do that day.
Making their way inside, Y/N accidentally hit something off the side and instantly apologised, "Fuck, sorry," and placed whatever she had knocked off back. It was a picture of two young boys. The one had to be Chris. The other, she assumed, was his brother. Both were smirking, and it looked like they had just finished telling a good joke. She smiled at the picture before she could stop herself.
"Hey, dude," Chris greeted. "Dudette
"My shift begins in 20," Adrian began. "Will you two be chill?"
Chris shrugged and Y/N nodded her head. Leaning closer to her, Chris teased, "Thimble is worried I'm going to put my moves on you."
"Please don't," Adrian pleaded, looking between the pair. He trusted her completely. Peacemaker, on the other hand, was a different story. In battle? Hell yeah, he trusted him with his life. Going after anything that has a hole? That was Chris's way.
Lifting to her tiptoes, she kissed Adrian on the cheek and whispered, "Only got eyes for you, loser."
With that confirmation, Adrian left, leaving the two to just stare at each other. "So..." Chris started, the air growing awkward.
"So," she repeated back. She had no idea what to say.
"Why are you under surveillance?" He asked. In response, she cartoonishly showed him her thumb, then violently gestured to her wound, making a 'swhchhhhh' sound effect as she moved. "That's hardcore."
Nodding, she jeered, "Now he has put me on suicide watch," then paused, "Sorry about that, by the way."
Instantly, Chris laughed. He doesn't know why. Maybe it was the flippant way she said it. It made him think that maybe this measure was a little overprotective. "He'll get over it."
"I don't know about that." She was looking between his chest and his face, trying to figure him out. It was weird seeing him without his dove of peace symbol everywhere.
After the initial awkwardness subsided, the pair got along great. They had hung out before, but never alone. There was always an Adrian buffer. Now... now it was just them, and the atmosphere was relaxed and fun.Â
On day one, Chris showed her his record collection, and they listened to a couple of glam metal albums. "You know what goes great with Poison? Beer. Want one?" He offered.
"No thanks."
Women don't like beer, duh. Stupid Chris. "I might have something else if, you know, you don't want to drink a man drink or anything."
Bluntly, she stated, "I'm an alcoholic."
Staring at her blankly, Chris asked, "What?"
"I'm an alcoholic," she repeated. "Don't tell Adrian, but all the beers in our fridge are non-alcoholic. After all this time, he still hasn't noticed."
Day two. Y/N got to see Eagly. "Why do you have a pet eagle?" She held up her phone so she could take a picture of Chris with his bird.
"Cause it's sick as fuck."
"Yeah, it is," she agreed, inching closer to Eagly with a Dorito. The bird pecked her thumb, its beak drawing blood. "I don't think he likes me.
Watching her as she brought her finger to her mouth to casually suck the blood off, Chris narrowed his eyes. She didn't even flinch when Eagly bit her. He had been bitten by his bird so many times that he knew it hurt. When her finger was blood-free, she just reached into the packet and repeated the process. This time, Eagly didn't bite her.
Day three, Chris decided that they should shoot shit to let off steam. She was more than happy to release some anger in a somewhat healthy way.
He picked up an Uzi that he somehow acquired and sprayed bullets into a rusty fridge. That shit was loud. Then, he turned to her and exclaimed, "Fucking cool, right?"
"Super cool."
She could shoot a gun. He knew that. Picking up a pistol, he held it out to her and was surprised when all the colour drained from her face. She looked terrified. "For fuck's sake, chill the fuck out. I'm not going to shoot you."
Kicking her foot against the floor, she didn't respond. She just stared at the gun. He moved closer to her. She tensed up and backed away.Â
Now she knew how David felt. His terrified face as he scrambled away from her came to mind.
Still not understanding why she was reacting in such a way, he continued, "Hey." He waved the gun a little. "Come on, we're just shooting. Chill out."Â
Not blinking, she continued to glare at the gun and not move. She was frozen in place. Chris was confused and a little scared. He lowered the gun and asked, "What the fuck, Y/N?"
This behaviour was unlike her. Something was seriously off. Confirmed. Maybe Adrian was right that she should be under watch. Chris had seen her touch a gun before.
"I'm not sure," she whispered to herself, her words barely audible. "I think I have post-traumatic stress disorder."
"What did you say?"
"I don't want to hold it," she confirmed, blinking harshly and shaking out the thoughts in her head. "I've never had this feeling before... I can't touch that. Might kill someone."
Feeling the need to assuage her fears, Chris lowered his weapon and said, "Want me to call Adrian?"
"No." The word came out harsher than intended. Chris winced. Maybe it was because her voice had no discernible tone. Maybe it was the hard, 'don't-touch-me' look in her eyes. Whatever it was, it was hard to look at, and he averted his eyes as soon as she shook her head.
Eagly was above, and he dropped a dead rat at their feet. Both of them jumped in surprise and looked at the rodent. "Thanks, buddy," he called out.
Staring at the rat, Y/N laughed and came up with a terrible pun, "Rat-ical."
"You're not funny," he retorted, gesturing that they should go back inside.
"Yeah, not one bit."
After that, Chris treated her more gently. He wouldn't just poke things in her face anymore. He had learnt from the gun incident. As soon as they got back to his house, Chris immediately texted Adrian about what went down, and he arrived at the door in record time.
Adrian just walked in. He didn't bother knocking. "I said not to call him," she pointed out, looking from Chris to her husband.
"I didn't call him," Chris retorted, "I texted him."
Noticing that his wife was a little pale as she leant against the kitchen counter, he walked over and inspected her by taking her chin in his hand and tilting it; then he stood back to survey her entire body for any additional injuries. It wasn't from blood loss, he concluded.
Something freaked her out.
Y/N was too calm about the inspection. Chris was sure that Adrian did this often and she was used to it by now. "I'm fine now, really," she said, dismissing his hand. "Just had a little freak out, but I'm normal now." She smiled to prove it.
Narrowing his eyes, Adrian guessed that maybe she didn't want to talk about it in front of Chris. "Okay," he conceded and made a mental note to ask her about it later. Changing the subject, he asked Y/N, "I heard that there's a new sushi place opposite the Starbucks on Pine Street. Want to go?"
Not understanding that Adrian was asking just his wife, Chris responded, "Hell yeah, dude."
"I was asking Y/N."
"Chris can come if he wants to," she clarified. Adrian glared at his wife, not wanting to argue. She knew that he had intended for this to be a date. For obvious reasons, they hadn't had one in a while. Chris was not tagging along on one of their dates.Â
Still not taking the hint, Chris declared, "Meet you guys there at 7?"
Sighing, Adrian dejectedly replied, "Yeah, dude. Sure."
The car ride was quiet. Adrian had yet to say anything, which was unsettling. He didn't know what to make of Y/N's behaviour. He wanted to ask her about what happened in the woods, but he was afraid that would set her off again. Occasionally glancing across at her, he tried to think of something to say to comfort her but couldn't. His mind was clouded by the fact that he was annoyed that she had invited Chris.Â
But, he had to admit, she looked the most peaceful she had in days as she rested her head on her arms on the rolled-down window ledge. Maybe Peacemaker had really made peace for once.
She heard him sigh deeply and finally turned to face him. His eyes were worried. It looked like a lot of thoughts were going through his mind, which is never a good thing. To remedy this, she gently took his hand off the gearstick and pressed slow, sloppy kisses against his skin whilst she apologised, "I'm sorry for inviting Peacemaker."
"Kissing me like that just makes me more annoyed that I don't get you all to myself," he replied, sounding a bit relieved. It was true, but he couldn't stay mad at her for long. "And I need my hand to change gear."
Letting go of it for him to drive, she waited, and as soon as he changed gear, he held it back out for her to take in hers again. Tracing her finger across his ring, she admitted, "It's just... he seems lonely."
Adrian was taken aback. He hadn't considered that perspective. For as long as he had been Vigilante, he had been the only one who consistently hung out with Peacemaker. When they joined the 11th Street Kids, that changed. They had more friends, but they were just colleagues. Adebayo was the only one that he knew hung out with Chris after hours, and he had been a little wary to do so after she planted evidence on him. Plus, she was currently on holiday with her wife for the next couple of weeks.Â
Chris was alone. He had been for a while. Longer than he ever wanted to be. If Y/N could help out, even in the slightest, she wanted to.
38. Lipstick Marks
Preparing for their 3-person date, a phrase which Adrian hated her saying, she reapplied concealer over her spots. Who knew murdering people could be so stressful? Her skin had been acting up like a motherfucker, which was not helping her mood at all.
It was like she was a spotty-faced teen again. The horrible skin and emotional outbursts. But on the bright side, she had a grumpy partner to help her through it. Adrian had been sitting on the sofa when she last saw him, pouting as he watched TV.
Hugging her from behind as Adrian entered the bathroom, she watched as he brought his lips to her shoulder. So he had gotten over his strop. Great. That was a worry checked off her list.
She was so grateful she wasn't getting the silent treatment anymore. Now he was back to being warm and attentive. It was a wonderful 180. He never stayed mad at her for long.
"You look so good," he assured her, his hands making their way down her torso. He squeezed her ass, before kissing the side of her neck. "Too good."
Lightly batting his hands away, she flirted back, "Could say the same about you, handsome."
Blush rose to his cheeks. How could she still do that? They were married and he still got flustered whenever she complimented him. He tried to hide his pink face in her neck, but she could feel how warm his cheeks were.
At first, he intended to ask her all about what freaked her out earlier. That's what he walked in to talk about. But before he could get a word out, she brought her free hand to his hair and began to softly scratch his thoughts away. He let out a breath, resting his forehead against her shoulder and she could feel him relax.
"Do you know how much I hate it when you do that?" he asked, his voice hushed.
"Do what?" she whispered back to him, stroking his hair.
"Making me forget everything I planned on saying." He raised his head to catch her eyes in the mirror and his mind started to wander, and before he knew it, he was remembering the little rendezvous at their wedding. It happened right in this position. On the very spot they were currently standing on.
His thoughts got even more vivid when she had to bend over the sink a little to inspect her eyeliner. Without meaning to, both of his hands squeezed her hips and he completely zoned out staring at her in the mirror.Â
It was hard for her to concentrate in his lustful gaze. The way his chest dramatically rose and fell was a clear indicator of what he was thinking about. She asked, "What's so interesting? You want some makeup on?" as an attempt to break him out of his daze. She often found it hard to say no to him and they'd definitely be late if she agreed to this.
Still, he didn't pay attention to her words and mumbled out, "Yeah, that... that sounds cool," causing her to turn to face him and take his head in her hand. Whatever he said (he had absolutely no fucking clue) had worked like a treat. Now his eyes were wide and staring directly at her with intense desire.
Oh god, that was not going to happen. Trying to move his focus, she told him to "Pucker up, pookie," but he remained befuddled. She lightly squished his cheeks together so his lips would purse and methodically applied lipstick to him.Â
He watched in fascination as she painted his mouth before finally stepping back to survey her handiwork. For a moment, she looked like her old self again. The sight of her perfecting his lips sent a jolt of happiness through him. She looked genuinely joyful again. So, there was hope. His wife, the only woman he had ever really loved and wanted to marry, could really return to him. Everything could be the way it once was.
"Woah, who is that sexy fella?" She cheered and lifted his chin to get a better look. "Perfect. So pretty." He looked great, and he didn't mind the feeling of it on his lips. He thought he would. He didn't.Â
Maybe every time she got bored, he'd let her do his makeup. Maybe that would be fun.
The blush on his face got more intense as she turned back to apply it to herself. He couldn't help but kiss down her neck as she looked away, leaving lipstick marks against her skin. Fuck, that he liked. A lot. His lips left soft pinkish imprints against her skin. "Holy fuck, that's hot," he groaned.
Not holding in the moans that fell from her lips, her hand came up to his hair again and she tugged him off her. She managed to get out between moans, "Baby, you know I'm going to have to wipe them off before we go out."
An idea popped into his head. Maybe if he made it difficult to wipe off, she'd call the date off and they could stay in, just the two of them. To get her grip to loosen on his head, he sucked on the spot that he knew drove her wild. With a whimper, her hand slipped to the back of his neck, almost urging him to add more pressure. He applied more and more to her exposed skin until his lips were no longer coated with product.Â
"Ade, I know what you are trying to do."
Whoops. He just got called Ade. She only does that when he's being a little bitch. He laughed, the low rumble of his voice reverberating in his chest and causing her to feel it too as he stood so close to her. "We can always bail," he joked, his hand slowly making its way to her breast. "You know, just in case you can't get it all off."
The possessive way he held her and stared at her, making sure she was looking at him properly, made her want to give in.
"I don't want to bail," she told him, wiping off the lipstick with a makeup wipe. "It's not nice."
After getting all of the kiss prints that she could see off (there was one on the back of her neck that he didn't tell her about), she flipped around to face him and cleaned any remnants of lipstick still on him.
When her lipstick had dried down, she couldn't resist â he looked too kissable and needy - so she leant forward and pressed her lips against his for a quick, soft lip lock. "Besides, we can continue this later, if you want to?" She added, her voice taking on a husky quality that it hadn't had before.
Hell, she didn't even need to ask. They both knew the answer was going to be "Fuck yeah!" And she'd be more than happy to oblige him.
Following her as she exited the bathroom and tried to locate her bag, he declared, "You're too nice for your own good." He found it instantly for her and held it out.
"I'm not so sure about that," she said, gently taking it from him and slinging it over her shoulder. It always warmed her heart to see how well they worked together domestically. She was always losing things and it usually took him no time to find them.
She noticed his tie was loose and tried to tie it up for him. "Thanks," he said softly, his eyes watching her hands move. Unconsciously, she took the opportunity to reach up and play with his hair. "Can we walk there? I want to walk there."
"We'll need to leave," she began, looking at her watch. "5 minutes ago to make it on time, but yeah."
"Let's go then," he beamed. They walked hand in hand down the street. With the evening sun on her face, she listened as he playfully swung their hands and told her all about his day at work. They made it to the restaurant in no time.
Â
Chris was waiting outside when they arrived. She used both of their hands to wave at him. "Hey, Pissmaker!" she teased. "Sorry we're late."
Adrian laughed as he pulled her close and whispered, "He'd kill me if I called him that."
The trio entered the restaurant and Adrian dealt with the reservation conversation. Apparently, there was a mix-up because another family with the last name Chase had also booked in on the same evening, so they were having trouble verifying which was which. As this was going down, Chris and Y/N made small talk. "I've never seen you in a shirt before," she pointed out. "Even at our wedding."
"Yeah, I'm trying something new," he explained. That was a lie. "Plus, I googled this place and they have a dress code, which is insane." That was the truth.
"Totally insane," she mockingly repeated. It was one of the least insane things she had heard in a while.
"This is America: we should get to wear whatever we want, wherever we want."
Teasingly, she joked, "Wait, we are in America? You never told me that. Aw, I hate Americans."
He paused for a moment as he looked over at her, trying to gauge whether she was joking or not. America isn't liked very much by foreigners.Â
Noticing this, she added, "Yeah, I would never willingly hang out with one. Dating one? That sounds like torture."
It was a joke. Laughing, Chris retorted, "What about marrying one?"
"Ah, that's even worse!" Y/N exclaimed, her hands comfortingly finding their way to Adrian's waist so he'd be 100% certain that she was fucking with him. Plus, he looked a little annoyed, and her touch often calmed him. It seemed to work, as he looked back at her and gave a small smile, which she instantly returned.
Jealousy rose up in Chris. He wanted this: A partner who was receptive to his needs. Adrian, of all people, had that? And he didn't? The world is weird.
Finally, the trio was seated in a little booth next to the window. As soon as they sat down, Adrian slid his arm across the back of her chair while they looked at the menu and discussed what to order. "Nigiri? I thought we weren't allowed to say that anymore," Chris declared. The couple didn't know whether this was an off-colour joke or a genuine misunderstanding and just looked at each other in confusion.
Eventually, after going through the menu thoroughly, everyone decided on a meal and ordered it without fault. The food soon arrived, and it didn't take long for it to be consumed. "How the actual fuck do you use these things?" Chris asked, failing to hold the chopsticks.
Reaching across the table, Y/N placed them in his hands in the correct position and instructed, "Now just move the top one."
Chris tried. It was better than his original attempt. "Just stick them in the rice bit to dip them in soy sauce," Y/N suggested. "We won't tell anyone."Â
He did that and was more successful the second time. After that, he stabbed a singular chopstick into the roll, like it were a skewer, and shoved it in his face. It was way more effective than trying to do it properly.
When she didn't need to use it, Y/N's hand lay against the top of Adrian's thigh. She slowly caressed little circles into his trousers as she spoke to Peacemaker. Adrian was pretty quiet as he watched his wife and Chris interact. He couldn't help but be a little jealous; they were comfortable around each other. He was sure Chris preferred hanging out with her than with him. His #1 BFF preferred his wife.
Noticing his lack of talking, which was extremely abnormal, she offered him some of her food. "Want one?"
If she was going to give him food, she was going to have to feed it to him. That's how it always works. So, she held out a sushi roll on the end of her chopsticks and placed it in his mouth. He happily ate it. "Good?" She asked, moving her hand back to rub his leg.
"So good." Mission accomplished. He was calmer, and he said something. Major win.
Staring at each other, Chris and Y/N continued talking, and Adrian felt nothing but calmness wash over him as she took his hand in both of hers once she was done eating. He was okay with this. He was happy. He liked this.
Before they left the restaurant, a gentle rain began to fall as the couple bid goodbye to Chris and went their separate ways. "See you tomorrow, bitch," Chris called after them, a little too loudly.
"Later, Pissmaker."
Fuck. The three-way date had gone better than he'd ever expected. Chris seemed happy. And, more importantly, Y/N seemed happy. That was his priority.
Jumping over a puddle, she asked, "Are you okay? You were a little quiet."
He stopped in place and pulled her closer to him. "I'm great," he replied, leaning down and planting one straight on her lips, his hand coming up to the lipstick mark that was still on the back of her neck. "I'm so great."
At least he's doing well, she thought. That would be the thing she clung to as she tried to work through her own shit.
The rain got heavier, soaking them through. Smiling, she splashed a puddle at him. They were going to be drenched, so they might as well have some fun. They made their way back, laughing as they stumbled and jumped through puddles. And, just like that, the moment was stupidly perfect.
39. Knight And Squire
Perfection doesn't last long. It may have lasted around 25 minutes before something interrupted their night. As they rounded a corner, they came upon a scene where two balaclava-masked men with knives were waiting for innocent people to rob. Unfortunately for the robbers, neither of the couple could be considered innocent.
Adrian shot a glance at his wife that indicated he wanted her to stay behind him. She did not obey and stayed firmly in step with him. As they got closer, the robbers turned and saw them. "Shit," the shorter robber whispered to his partner. "Two for the price of one."
Extending the knife towards Adrian, the taller robber demanded, "Give me your wallet. Now." Adrian responded with a flat stare that clearly communicated that he shouldn't be fucked with. The robber didn't get it. "Give me your fucking wallet."
Before the shorter one could react, Y/N brought her knee to his groin and kicked him in the head as Adrian grabbed the taller one by the knife arm and snapped it over his knee. Both men fell backwards, groaning in pain and cursing their idiocy for not backing down.
Their sounds of pain had alerted two people that Y/N had never expected to see again. Mostly because she had believed they were dead until earlier this week. Knight and Squire somehow appeared behind the robbers and surveyed the scene. "Knives!" Squire yelled, pointing out the weapons. Strange strategy, but communication is essential.
Springing to action, Knight brandished his baton and stood between the robbers, expecting to help the civilians with their fight, but found that the criminals just stayed on the ground, holding their injuries. Knight and Squire stared at each other in confusion. "Why aren't they running away?" Knight asked, bewildered.
"Because we kicked their asses before you got here," Adrian pointed out, watching as the men writhed in pain on the ground. "And that one," he pointed to the one he had fought, "Needs medical attention for a shattered ulna."
Squire looked over to the shorter guy who was clutching his testicle and wincing in pain, then his gaze shifted upwards. "Y/N?"He asked incredulously.
Despite the fact that they had voice modifiers in their masks, she could tell who that was just by the disappointed way he said her voice. Was it really a coincidence that two crime fighters from back home would arrive in America around the same time as her brothers?
Y/N angrily dropped her head in her hands and sat on the wet ground. "Oh, God. I can't believe this is happening again. I can't believe it." The boys stared at her as she began cackling manically.Â
The robber with the fucked-up arm passed out because of the pain, and Knight used his golden knuckledusters â which Adrian recognised, as he had once used a pair exactly like that - and knocked the other one out.
"All of you are the fucking same," she chuckled sadly. Every single member of her family had kept a huge secret from her.
Confused, Adrian made his way over to her and offered his hands to help her up. She ignored it, keeping her gaze on the ground. "Every single man in my life is a fucking vigilante," she yelled and flopped backwards, lying down in a puddle. "And I'm such a fucking moron that I believed them all."
"What's going on?" Knight asked, crouching down beside her.
"Fuck off, Percy.'
Oh. Adrian finally understood. Yeah, that's got to mess you up. Three people in her life, including him, spend their free time out on the street, putting their lives in danger to beat up criminals.
Percy looked up at Cyril. Their cover was blown. And, for some reason, she found that she didn't care. After the initial anger had subsided, she didn't give a shit.
Making eye contact with her husband, she took his hands when he offered again and began to walk away. Adrian managed to drag her back to the conversation by her hips. "What are you-" She started to say, trying to get out of his grip, but she gave up almost immediately.
She was absolutely sopping. Her clothes were heavy and uncomfortable, and she just wanted to go home. "I'm going home. If any of you want to follow me, you can," she offered, knowing their answers already. "We can talk about all this shit after I change out of these clothes."
All three men followed her silently as she stomped her way back to her apartment. It must've been a funny sight to see two weirdly dressed crime fighters sheepishly following a completely drenched woman, who had reached into her bag and pulled some headphones on to block them out in a feeble attempt to calm her mind.
Halfway there, she reached back and took Adrian's hand in hers. Knight and Squire's lying had brought up some old anger about Vigilante's lying, but she still wanted him close.
They made it inside without any trouble. She immediately found towels and threw them at each of them, then made her way into her room, slamming the door behind her. Maybe she did give a shit. Maybe she didn't.
Completely ignoring them, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower. The water felt amazing. She closed her eyes and let it wash away all the stress from the day, if only for a moment.
Watching as they took their headgear off, Adrian awkwardly shifted his weight from foot to foot, unsure of what to do. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "I thought Squire was Knight's son," he joked, hoping it would lighten the mood. "You know, because of the height difference."
"Fuck you, I'm not that small," Cyril retorted. They had heard that sentiment so many times.
"Yeah, okay, big guy," Adrian said with a chuckle and a shake of his head. Percy placed a hand on Cyril's chest and held him back. Fuck, that little optometrist was hot-headed.
Changing the subject, Percy enquired, "What did my sister mean when she said every single man in her life is a vigilante?"
That was a good question. One that Adrian didn't want to answer, so he questioned back, "Why do you have knuckle dusters with Loman's logo on them?"
"Ah," Cyril grunted, slipping it off his hand. "That's hard to explain."
The air was tense when she made her way back to them. She didn't really know what to say. She didn't really want to say anything.
As soon as he saw her, Adrian held out his hand for her to hold. "Better?" he asked, worried. She nodded and took his hand, fiddling with his fingers as she decided what her next move was.
Looking at her brothers, she ordered, "Sit," and they did. "Explain yourselves."
Percy took a big breath and then explained, "We worked for The Squid straight after finishing university. Odd jobs, you know. Security and surveillance mostly, some of the easier jobs. The kind of thing I could do while sitting at a computer. Mum told us not to."
"But we did it anyway," Cyril admitted, almost as if confessing to a priest. "We figured if we got into The Squid's good books, he'd leave you alone."
Scanning his face, she came to the conclusion, "Lie. I'm his daughter. He offered me nothing but goodwill until his last days."
So she knew that. They knew that. They had known for years, ever since she was born, really. Caught in his lie, Cyril rubbed his hands across his face and confirmed, "Fine, yeah. The money was so good, okay? That's why."
Picking up on the rear end of her sentence, Percy repeated, "Until his last days?"
Shit. She had given something away without realising it. After quickly giving Adrian a hesitant glance, he spoke up, "I murdered Loman. Shot him straight through the head. " He moved two fingers of his free hand under his chin and pretended to shoot himself.
The room was silent for a moment before her brothers began cheering, "Hey! Hey! Good for you, mate! You did the right thing!" They jumped to their feet and did little victory dances in the air. "Come on, let's celebrate!"
Neither of them expected that. Loman being murdered was great. They had heard he had died in the same explosion their parents had, but this news was great. That bastard finally got what was coming for him.
Adrian shot a look at his wife and shrugged. That was a better reaction than what he had guessed was going to happen.
"Have you got any booze? We need to celebrate."
"I'm an alcoholic," she deadpanned and walked into her kitchen to retrieve the vodka from the cabinet. "But yes."
Without waiting for her to get them a mixer, Cyril chugged straight vodka and held it out for Percy to do the same. That clearly was a family trait.
Percy offered it to Adrian, but he declined. "I wasn't sure about you, kid. Now you're my favourite person in the entire world," Percy beamed, clutching Adrian's shoulder. "You're one of us now."
What the actual fuck did that mean?
Her brothers proceeded to get drunker as she watched them, her face buried in her hands. Why couldn't they be like other normal people and just hang out in a pub and be happy?
Cyril stood next to her and sloppily wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Want a drink?" He was too far gone to realise that he wasn't supposed to encourage her to do that.
"No," she replied.
"Come on, Moo. Lighten up."
Hearing that nickname again, the corner of her eyes welled with tears, and she shook him off. He didn't notice. "Fuck off, Cyril."
"Sorry, sorry. I forgot only Dad was allowed to call his little girl that." He burped and then said, "Well, technically not his little girl."
Percival snatched the bottle from his brother and shook his head. He was a little more sober. "C, let's leave Y/N and Adrian be. It's before 12, so we can order room service back at the hotel," he slurred out. Adrian ordered them an uber and pushed them out of the door.
The moment they left, she couldn't help but press her head against his chest and sob quietly. He rubbed her back and humorously cooed, "Turns out all of your family members are complete messes."
Despite her sadness, she laughed and held him tighter. "Got any crazed cousins or badass grandparents I need to know about?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"Not that I know about."
When she looked up at him, he brushed her tears away and softly asked, "Want to go to bed and sort shit out in the morning?" She replied by lifting her arms up to indicate he should carry her there. He chuckled and obliged, easily lifting her into his arms.
He brought her up to her room and laid her down on the bed. It took all his willpower not to deepen it when she brought him into a passionate kiss. "No, not tonight," he comforted. He knew she only wanted to in an attempt to distract herself.
Strange. He had never said no to sex with her before. "I said we'd continue later; it's later," she stated, seductively taking his tie off. That was true. Yet, her headspace had changed dramatically since then. She held out the fabric to him and asked, "Who is getting tied up, me or you?"
"Y/N," he let out and took his tie from her and chucked it over the side of the bed so she'd stop. This wasn't the right way to deal with things, no matter how much he wanted her to continue.
"Adrian?" She watched as he got under the sheets and held out his arms. When she didn't immediately crawl into them, he took her hands and gently pulled her towards him.Â
"Come on, I'm cold," he whined. With a sigh, she climbed in and scooted against him so he could wrap his arms around her. He kissed her forehead before cuddling her close to his chest.
"This would be more comfortable if we got undressed," she pointed out. He didn't respond. He held her more tenaciously. She wasn't leaving his grasp for a while, and she was completely fine with that.
40. The Cunts From Riverdale
4 Weeks. That's how long it had been since everything went down in Gotham. A full month. It seemed like forever, and yet it was just a tiny sliver of time. Y/N's gunshot wound had mostly healed, but she still walked with a little limp, which annoyed her slightly, but she'd have to come to terms with the fact that it might never go away. Healing from being shot often takes a while, definitely more than a couple of weeks despite what it may say on tv.
Percy and Cyril had apologised profusely for their drunken behaviour. Y/N had accepted their apologies, but she'd made it very clear that she didn't want it to happen again. They both promised her that. It was the first time Y/N felt like her brothers might actually want her around. It was a strange phenomenon. But maybe it was a good thing.
They had decided to stay in America until they unravelled the mystery of their parents' death. Y/N had to keep her mouth shut, and it was becoming increasingly harder for her to do so. She knew as soon as she spilt her guts, her brothers might try to kill her. That was the family way.
Adrian didn't quite trust her brothers. He wasn't sure if they knew more than they were letting on. Cyril was the most suspicious, but he didn't seem too bad. Percival was the biggest threat, in his own way, but he kept to himself a lot. If Vigilante needed to step in, he would in a heartbeat.
Waking up in what she thought was the early hours of the morning, Y/N opened her eyes and glanced around the room. What the actual fuck was that? There was somebody in the corner of their room. She tried to move but couldn't. Was it possible to cast hold person in real life? Or was she experiencing sleep paralysis? The latter was more likely.
Emerging from the shadows of Y/N's room, Oscar slowly made his way towards her. So this was a dream. Great. Brilliant. Fucking lovely. "Bet you didn't expect to see this, huh, Tata?" He asked, kneeling down to be eye level. This wasn't real. Her dead best friend wasn't talking to her. Her mind was cruel.
"You know, I always knew you'd screw your life up," he taunted. The figment of her imagination rested his head on his crossed arms and looked up at her. "I messed my life up, so, of course, my bestie has to copy me."
Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she was forced to endure this. If only she could wake up, that would be the best thing for her. But she couldn't. "Oh? Are you trying to wake up?" Oscar sneered and reached out to poke her hand. She could feel it. It wasn't as if he had actually touched her. The sensation was similar to how it felt under numbing agents; you know you're being touched but physically can't place where.
Adrian was awoken when her sleeping body suddenly jerked her hand out as if she were rearing back from somebody trying to hold her hand and accidentally hit him in the chest.
"Just wake up. We both know you're dreaming," Oscar continued. "But I guess you're more afraid of the real world than I am, huh?"
That was probably right.
"Want to run off to the real world now, Tata?" he asked, sounding a little annoyed. "Want to run away from me again?"
From outside her mind, Adrian watched as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Whatever nightmare she was having, it clearly sucked. Should he wake her up? It was common knowledge that you shouldn't, but she looked like she was dealing with a real doozy. Ultimately, he decided not to. Yet, if it became any more physically evident that she was having a bad time, he would.
Finally, she managed to weakly form the words, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," which caused Oscar to smile and return to the shadows of her room, allowing her to wake up. She woke up instantly and scanned around the room. Thank fuck, she was back in the real world. Everything was blurry and her mouth was dry, but she was alive and awake. Her gaze landed on Adrian, who looked very concerned.
As soon as she looked at him, a wave of nausea hit, so she rushed to the bathroom and started puking into the toilet. Adrian was hot on her heels and managed to hold her hair back before she got sick all over it. The puke taste was so nasty it burnt like acid in her throat. "Fuck, that nightmare really fucked me up," she replied, trying to sound more jovial than she felt. She had a hunch that she hoped wasn't true.
Adrian looked at her for a moment, his eyes searching for answers. "You okay?" he asked quietly, his fingers lightly playing with the necklace he wore. He knew the answer. Of course she was not okay. Her mouth tasted horrid, which was an easy fix. She wiped her mouth and quickly brushed her teeth. Soon the gross stomach acid taste was replaced with a cool mint one, so that was one problem down.
"I just need a few minutes," she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed. It felt so good to be conscious again and able to move. Adrian sighed and sat down next to her without a word.
That sigh. For some reason, that sigh annoyed her. It was as if he was just waiting for her to get more mentally healthy and revert to her old self. She knew his love was unconditional, but she also knew he much preferred the woman she used to be. It was unlikely she'd ever be that woman again. But there was nothing wrong with trying, right?
Admitting what she was thinking about, she warned, "I know you love me, but I don't know if I'll ever be the girl you fell for again." She rested her head on his shoulder and continued, "And I'm sorry for that. I know I've been acting like a whiny bitch recently, and I'm sorry. I'm trying."
She could feel his body tense up and his heart rate speed up. "Don't worry. I'm a whiny bitch all the time," he joked. He lifted her head to look him in the eyes and confirmed, "Remember? No matter what happens." She loved him with a whole new level of intensity, which she didn't believe was possible before.
Adrian kissed her gently on the lips. She melted immediately and kissed him back but then pulled away and whispered, "You do have a tendency to be a whiny bitch."
They both laughed. Things would be fine. She just had to keep reminding herself of that.
He had been a little hesitant to go to work and leave her with Chris. She had unpromptedly told him about her nightmare. He didn't even need to ask. That was progress.
Walking into Chris's house (he had given her a key at this point), she poured herself a drink and tried to find him. He was in his room, fast asleep, with some random guy's arm around him. She quietly took a picture and sent it to Adrian with the caption:
đđ»: Peacemaker got pounded.
đ§đ: he's a top
đđ»: You think?
đđ»: Wait, how do you know that?
đ§đ: he told me
đ§đ: despite what economos says, peacemaker and i have not buttfucked
đđ»: He'd definitely top you.
đ§đ: everyone would top me
It was her little laugh at her husband's message that woke Chris up. He immediately looked at her, swatted the guy's arm off of him, and got out of bed. "Jesus, Chris. Put some clothes on," she exclaimed, shielding her eyes and walking back to the sofa.
Chris got dressed, then shook the man in his bed and faintly said, "Hey. Hey, dude." He had forgotten the guy's name. Maybe he never knew it. The guy swiftly got up, put his clothes on, and left.
"Bye, guy that Chris fucked," she called after him as he exited. Sheepishly, Chris made himself a drink and sat next to her. He had quite the night. "What was his name?"
"Haven't got a fucking clue," he responded, allowing his head to fall into his hands. Hangovers suck.
"Why don't we get some fresh air, huh?" She asked. She had an ulterior motive for suggesting that, but he didn't need to know that. "Do you want to get a coffee or something to eat?"
Food sounded delightful to him. And not having to make it too? It's a win-win. The pair walked into town, and Chris had to take all the teasing she gave him. He just smiled and placed a pair of shades over his eyes so the beautiful shining sun didn't amp up his already annoying headache. "We are not going to Fennel's. That's too loud. Plus, Adrian's goofy, annoying voice will go straight through me," Chris complained, causing her to chuckle.
"I think I saw a quiet cafe down that street," she said, motioning toward the other side. "Will that do?"
"Fine. Whatever."
The pair settled in and ordered their drinks. The cafe was a small, quaint place with a few round tables. There were not a lot of other customers. One older couple and a subdued couple of teens. The atmosphere was calm and relaxing: exactly what Chris needed.
After they got their drinks, he took the shades off his eyes and looked at her. She seemed to be doing better than before. He listened as she gossiped all about her brothers and the big palaver they had caused recently. "I still can't believe how drunk Cyril got. I mean, he was fine after the first drink, but by the third, one little poke wouldâve sent him toppling over," she chuckled. It had been enough time for her to be able to joke about it. To be fair, for her, 'enough time' was around 12 hours, maybe even less. "They started chugging straight from the bottle and, from past experience, I can confirm that you get seriously fucked real quick."
Chris nodded and agreed, "I can also confirm that."
He proceeded to tell her all about his drunken antics from the previous night, including a way too graphic description of the sex he had. She now knew why he was walking a little funny (she totally had deduced that was why but didn't want to make vocal assumptions). She listened with a smile, interjecting a laugh here and there.
Even the elderly couple near them seemed to quieten down and listen in to his story. Once it was over, there was a brief period of awkwardness as nobody said anything. Then the old lady burst out laughing. The old man gave her a look like she had gone mad, but she just continued to laugh her head off. "Is that how it went?" The old lady asked, gasping for breath. The old man rolled his eyes and mumbled something about never getting to his age.
"That is how it went, ma'am."
The pair bid goodbye to the elderly couple once they had finished consuming what they had ordered and made their way back. As they walked past a pharmacy, she asked, "Do you mind if I just pop in and get some stuff?"
"Not at all."
She walked in and walked straight to the correct place. The cashier bagged her items with a smile and said, "Maybe congratulations are due?"
"I hope not." With that, she left and made her way back to Chris. He managed to get a peek into her bag before she clutched it shut. He didn't mention it.
Time flew by as they walked, mercilessly making fun of each other. They soon reached his house and slumped on the sofa to watch the trashiest, most mind-numbing show they could find: Riverdale. "I can't believe Betty would cheat on Jughead like that," Chris declared, staring at the screen. "She is such a slutbag."
"Thought you didn't give a shit about this show?" Y/N teased. Chris had been the one to put it on. Apparently, he had heard about it in prison and secretly wanted to watch it.
Scoffing, he lied, "Pfft, I don't. But you're into this type of garbage, so..."
She wasn't into this type of garbage. But he seemed happy watching it, so she'd deal with it. "I agree. Betty should at least tell Jughead what's going down," she added. "That's the healthy thing to do. Secrets suck."
"If you had a secret, you'd tell Adrian?" Chris enquired.
"Of course."
Interesting. "Does he know that you think you're pregnant?" he asked the question that she had been dreading. All it took was one look from him to make her cringe.
Fuck. He had seen it in her bag before she could hide the tests. "I'm planning on telling him when I know for sure," she confirmed, looking down at her hands.
Chris leant over to reach for her bag, pulling out the tests she had bought and placing one in her hand. "Let's find out."
"You are not watching me pee," she replied. She knew that's not what he meant but still wanted to put that barrier there.
Next Chapter -> 41-45
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Story Summary -> Adrian makes a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl, but hey, when doesnât he? Sheâs weird, funny, and treats him gently, which obviously makes him obsessed with her, and much to his surprise, she seems to like having him around too. Together, they try to carve out a peaceful life, yet her less than perfect family messes up their harmony.
Can their love survive alley fights, mob bosses, and a robotic eggman? It will be a tough ride, but theyâre prepared to give it a go.
Entire Story Tags -> Dungeons & Dragons References, Gun Violence, Idiots in Love, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Children, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Animal Attack, DC Comics References, Mutual Pining, Bisexual Christopher Smith | Peacemaker, Domestic Fluff, Organized Crime, Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Kidnapping, Mommy Issues, First Meetings, First Kiss, Autism, Long-Term Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Soulmates, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Autistic Adrian Chase, Blood and Violence, Substance issues, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Unplanned Pregnancy, Gotham City is Terrible, Hospitalization, Blood and Injury, Crimes & Criminals, Written Before S2
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Previous Chapter -> 26-30
31. Doomed From The Motherfucking Beginning
Pain surged in Adrian's head. More specifically, his temple, which had been forcefully hit twice in just over two days. Fuck, he wished people would stop knocking him out. He moaned and tried to move, but he couldn't. His arms were stuck. He was tied to a chair. Shit. Was this going to be a Goff-type torture scenario?
Quickly scanning the room, he looked to his left to see David in the exact same situation as he was. Oh, shit. He could guess what Lawrence was planning on forcing his daughter to do. They locked eyes. If Adrian had been good at reading facial expressions, he would've noticed how his father-in-law was trying to reassure him.
To their right stood Laura, arms crossed, not able to look either of them in the eye. David tried desperately to catch his wife's eye, but she wasn't budging. Her gaze was trained on the tank. Or more specifically, what was in front of the tank. Lawrence sat on the ground with his unconscious daughter in his arms. She had stopped making any noise at all, or if she was, it was so faint that it was inaudible.
"So, you'd betray me just like your brothers," Lawrence mumbled to himself, brushing his hand through her hair. Both men struggled against their restraints. Loman shouldn't get to be so gentle with her. Every touch was a violation. "You'd betray me for him?"
She soon started to come around. Feeling the soft way she was being handled, she groggily asked, "Adrian?" as her eyes fluttered open.
"Not quite, kid," Loman replied. She instantly scrambled out of his arms and got to her feet. Confused and scared, she looked at David and Adrian, not able to process what was happening and why they were tied up.
Lawrence had a smirk on his face. Oh, that's why. He placed a gun in her hand. Snatching it, she aimed it at Lawrence. He didn't seem fazed. "Whoa, slow down, darlin'."
Y/N had been in a confused daze, but she was now wide awake and ready to kill. "What the hell is going on?" She demanded.
"Wrong target," she heard her mother reply, who had walked in between the tied-up men and shifted her gun between the sides of their heads. Kill one herself or they both die. And, presumably, in both scenarios, she would be kidnapped by the mob for the rest of her life. A real lose/lose situation.
Tentatively, she lowered the gun. As soon as it looked as if she had agreed to do what they were telling her to, she placed the barrel under her chin. "You do that and I will still kill them both. Then all three of you would be dead. That's not something you want now, is it, missy?" Laura taunted.
"Lawrence," David groaned, "You can have her. She's always been too much of a handful for me. Look at her. She's clearly your daughter, not mine." Even in the face of death, David was willing to do anything to protect Y/N. Making sure she shot him instead of Adrian was his main priority.
Moving the gun to her side, she watched as her mother took her original position to the left of Adrian.
Noticing that David had a watch on, she looked up at Loman and asked, "Can I at least say goodbye?"
"I'm not a monster."
Slowly, she made her way towards David and knelt before him. Taking his hands in hers, she caught a glimpse of his wristwatch. It was 18:55. She just had to stall for 5 minutes. Then she made her way to Adrian and did the same to him. Everyone in the room watched eagerly as she stood between the men and faked being confused. "Wait, what did you mean, 'she's clearly your daughter, not mine'?"
Silence.
David was unsure of what to say. He was aware that she had pieced her parentage together, so why was she asking this?
Playing dumb is fun. She looked around at all of them, bringing the loaded pistol to her forehead and using it to rub her temple. Putting on her best ditsy bimbo act, she asked, "Who is my real dad?"
Lawrence looked at her incredulously and pointed out, "I am. Didn't you figure that out?"
"No!" She exclaimed comically, looking between David and Adrian, who were trying their very best to refrain from smiling.
"I'm sorry, sweetie." David's voice came out as broken. He had taken multiple acting classes in college and was glad that he had encouraged her to get into role-playing games even though he had no idea what they were. Thanks to D&D, she could improvise on the spot. Wizards of the Coast, eat your heart out, baby.
They were a little family of thespians. And her cousin, Susan, was a homosexual horse rider who was in her church choir, so she was a lesbian thespian equestrian. Which was quite a mouthful.
Turning back to Loman, she said, "Is it really cool if I call you 'dad'?"
"Fuck, we'll talk about it later."
Arguing back, she replied like a grumpy teen, "I want to talk about it now."
"We'll get there." He replied, "Just be patient a bit longer, alright?"
"Okay," she paused, "Does this mean I have to spend Christmas with you?"
"If you would like to." He was getting increasingly angry at her childish responses. But she kept asking and asking.
It was now 18:59, so she started cackling like a manic. Maybe this whole ordeal had made her a little off-kilter. Watching with concern as she doubled over with laughter, her family were too busy to be ready for the large explosion in the fish tank. A.R.G.U.S. had figured it out.
Gertrude was torn to pieces instantly, and the glass of the aquarium broke. Most of the fragments made their way into Lawrence's body since he was the closest. A tidal wave of gross octopus flesh and human bone filled the room. The force threw Y/N across the room, landing in a heap at the entryway. She was still laughing when she hit the ground.
Those who were tied to the chairs were fine and, luckily, stayed upright as the water rushed over them. They weren't the fragile IKEA collection kind of shit. Lawrence was an incredibly rich man who wanted to show it off, so their chairs were ornate and made of incredibly heavy wood.
Adrian kissed her hastily and replied, "If we live through this, we've got to skip the cat."
Of course. Compromising sucks. Whatever he wanted. "Go get 'em, tiger," she urged, smacking him on the ass on the way.
Laura had never been a strong swimmer, so when her daughter came up to her, she thought it was Y/N's way of helping. Not at all. Her daughter forced her head under the water and held it there. Laura's lungs were filling up with water and the bubbles were slowing her down, making it hard for her to focus on clutching the gun in her hand. She dropped the weapon and it began to sink to the ground.
The water slowly lowered as it was being pushed under the gap below the doors.
Loman didn't have time to react before Adrian went into Vigilante modeâąïž. He had the gun and the upper hand. So why didn't he smack him around a bit? One bullet to the head wouldn't be enough pain to pay for the years and years that he's had to endure the loss and suffering of losing his family. Grabbing him by the collar, Adrian brought his fist harshly against Lawrence's cheek and smashed his head back into the ground. The glass below jabbed into the back of his head and caused blood to pour across Adrian's hands.
Y/N looked across and winked at him as they mercilessly tortured her biological parents. David watched in horror but wasn't able to stop them as he was still tied to the chair. When Adrian stomped on Loman's nose, David couldn't help but yell, "That's got to hurt!"
Spitting the blood out of his mouth, Lawrence just looked at Adrian with a hateful glare and chuckled, "Why so angry, kid?"
From below, they all heard as guns started to go off. Chris and Adebayo had arrived, and they were picking off low-level gang members one by one.
Finally bringing her mother above the water, Y/N teased, "Need a moment to catch your breath?"
"I seriously prefer your brothers."
Mockingly, Y/N replied, "Really? I had no idea," and pulled Laura's head back under the water and began drowning her again.
Lawrence managed to catch Adrian's foot and pull him to the ground, then flipped them over and began punching him. It was brutal, messy and bloody. And it got bloodier when Adrian pointed the gun under Loman's chin and pulled the trigger. "That's for my family, you nutsack."
Body going limp, Laura finally succumbed and began to rigidly float on top of the water. Y/N wiped her hands and helped her father up out of his bonds. He flinched away from her touch. "Don't you fucking touch me."
Trying to stay composed, she said, "Dad, please. We need to leave."
"You just killed your mother!"
"She wasn't a mother to me," said Y/N. It would've been nice if she had shown some remorse. But she didn't. Laura had made her life significantly harder over the years. The snide remarks. Constant disapproval. Forcing her to try and fit in. Then getting mad when that didn't work. Nothing she ever did was acceptable in her mother's heart. So, why shouldn't she make it so nothing could ever happen in her heart again?
Heartbroken, David admitted, "Laura was my whole damn life!"
"And for that, I am so sorry," she flippantly said and tried reaching out again, but he fell backwards in an attempt to get away from her. His hand landed next to Laura's corpse and, more specifically, her discarded gun. "Let's go!"
"Why are you so okay with this? This isn't how I raised you!"
Hysterically yelling, she pointed out, "My biological parents are a mob lord and a dirty cop, so I'm bred to be okay with this. I was doomed from the motherfucking beginning!"
Going to grab the weapon, he turned it on Y/N and his finger was on the trigger. David began shaking. "This was her last job, you know," he began. "When she said she wanted to retire from the police force, she meant she wanted to retire from all of this. Lawrence has all of Scotland Yard in his back pocket."
Adrian pushed Loman's corpse off of him and wiped his brow with the back of his palm, smudging more blood all over his face.
"It's your grandad who blew the family money and caused her to do all this shit." David began to cry, so she tried to console him. He began to wave the gun around wildly. "No. No. This isn't happening. We're going to go back home with your brothers, and everything will return to normal."
"Gotham police are going to be here soon."
As she took a step forward, he pulled the trigger out of fear. The bullet flew straight into her abdomen. Reflexively, when she heard him press the trigger, she pointed her weapon at him and also fired. Due to her training with Adrian, she was a better shot and got him between the eyebrows. David dropped the gun and fell backwards. Blood pooled out of his forehead. She had killed two of the people who had raised her. And her partner had killed the other one.
That's definitely something to talk about in therapy.
Painfully dropping to her knees next to him with a grunt, she weakly pleaded, "Daddy?" and inspected his wound. The gunshot looked exactly the same as the criminal whom Vigilante shot when she was held at knifepoint in the alleyway. There was no way he could recover from this. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. It was already growing cold.
Taking his watch, she pressed a final kiss to his cheek and sadly declared, "Guess I did exactly what they wanted in the end."
32. Human Vibrator
Swiftly moving to her side, Adrian picked her up with ease and started quickly moving out of the building, meeting Peacemaker and Adebayo on the stairs. "Get out of the way," he warned.
As they exited into the late dusk light, the sound of several sirens could be heard in the distance. The A.R.G.U.S. van was parked a couple of streets over, and the Gotham public seemed to not be surprised about the blood-covered group. That was a typical sight for them. They had seen much worse. It was a normal Tuesday night for them. Fuck, they were accustomed to the Joker. This shit was commonplace.
Getting her inside the vehicle, Adrian yelled for Economos to start driving. "Get to Gotham General as quickly as you can, or I will put a bullet between your eyes!"
"Copy that," John replied, and sped off as fast as he could. If she died, he had no doubt that Adrian would freak and go on a murder spree.
Slapping her forcefully enough on the cheek to keep her awake, Adrian urged her, "Hey. Gotta keep those eyes open." His thumb brushed over her cheekbone as he spoke. "Tell me a story."
Adebayo applied pressure to her wound to try and stanch the bleeding.
Her reply sounded slightly slurred, "A story. Yeah. Why?"
"Just... do it."
"Okay." So she did. The first thing that came to mind was when she, with the help of Oscar, played a prank on David. When they were around 9, the pair managed to sneak attack him when he was painting and clingfilmed him to his artwork. Wrecking the masterpiece and his clothes. He wasn't mad. He quite liked the look and displayed it as a surrealist piece.
The further she got into the story, the more tears fell. She tried desperately to stop them, but they kept falling. It was as if her body was trying to let go of all of the bottled-up emotions, and this included the pain. "I killed my dad," she admitted. Adrian could barely look at her heartbroken face.
Chris knew exactly how she was feeling.
Adrian placed his free hand in hers gently. "It's going to be alright," he comforted. "On the bright side, you also killed your mother." Only a manic would laugh at that. And she was. She began cackling, and Adrian soon joined in. The rest of A.R.G.U.S. looked at them in shock. What fucking weirdos.
Gotham General was in sight. The staff there didn't ask any questions. She was hurried into an operating theatre, and before she was out of Adrian's sight, she gave him a sluggish wink.
Chris tried to keep his buddy occupied but every time he would suggest taking a walk or getting some food, Adrian would shut him down. He would just sit quietly, slowly twisting his engagement ring around his finger.
At 19:00, Gertrude exploded. At 19:07, Laura drowned. At 19:34, Y/N's heart stopped. All of Loman's loved ones died in one night. Luckily, defibrillators exist and can be used by doctors. By 19:35, her heart was pumping once more. Death was not on the cards for her tonight.
It was nearly midnight when the doctor came out of the operating theatre. "Your wife is going to be fine," she told Adrian. "Nothing to worry about."
He let his head fall into his hands and began to cry in relief. He didn't care that his friends were around him. And he was so happy that he didn't try and correct the doctor about them not being married yet. Maybe he just liked hearing her being referred to as his 'wife'.
Patting him on the shoulder, Chris pulled Adrian to his feet and guided him to follow the doctor to her room. The rest of the members of A.R.G.U.S. waited in the lobby. "You should get some sleep, man," Peacemaker told him.
"I can't," Adrian replied. "I... I have to stay awake. I have to protect her."
"From what?" Adrian couldn't answer that. Technically, they had just killed the people that would come after them.
Opening the door to her hospital room wide, the doctor informed him, "She's still sedated. We expect she'll wake within the next hour."
Both men tried to enter the room, but the doctor held her hand in front of Chris. "Only the next of kin are allowed in. Sorry. You'll have to wait till visiting hours."
Chris was about to argue, but then he just shook his head and offered, "Hey, Ay, want me to get you a coffee or anything? It's on me."
"Nah, man," Adrian replied as the doctor let him in. "Me plus coffee is a total mistake. We both know that."
Y/N was out cold, so Adrian sat at the side of her bed with his hand resting on hers. He would wait. He would wait forever if he had to. As he stared at the ring on her finger, he remembered the first time he had even thought about marrying her. Sure, he had jokingly asked her when they first met. But he was thinking of the first real moment that he started to realise she was the one.
It was about a month after they had become friends, and she was chatting over some cheesy rom-com that he had put on. He had chosen it to try and make a move. But she kept talking and talking and talking, which was usually what he did. He just listened and watched as she gestured wildly, a small smile creeping on his face.
All of a sudden, her phone went off and she declined the call. She glanced at the caller ID and shrugged. "Don't you want to get that?" He asked.
She shook her head and replied, "Ex-partner. She probably doesn't know I've moved." Part of him swelled with jealousy. This person had managed to be with her and stupidly chose to lose her. What a fucking idiot.
"Besides, I'm talking in extreme depth about why Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You is the perfect man, and that's a really important topic for me," she playfully explained, twirling her phone in her hands. "I can tell by your face that you're loving this topic too."
"I'm not," he lied. He also agreed that Patrick Verona was incredibly sexy.
"Yes, you are." She grinned, placing her head in his lap. They hadn't known each other for that long but they were more comfortable together than with anyone else in their lives. "So, let's keep going. We have time."
"Okay," he agreed, thankful for the chance to be with her. Without realising it, he began brushing his fingers through her hair as she continued, which she must've found relaxing, as she soon started to fall asleep.
Before she passed out, she complimented, "You know, if I squint, you could look like Patrick Verona."
"Oh, you think so?" He asked, feeling a little thrill of excitement.
"Yeah, I do: the same dimples," she mumbled, reaching up and poking him straight in one of his dimples. Softly grabbing her hand, he lowered it back to her chest but didn't let it go. He smiled down at her and let her fall asleep on his lap. She trusted him enough to be unconscious in his presence. And he didn't feel awkward about how close she was to him. He liked it. A lot.
Sitting there in silence, with the low hum of the television, he carefully drew little shapes across the skin of her left hand and realised that this was how he wanted to spend every night. Just them. Talking. Making fun of each other. Being together.
When Adrian looked up, the hospital room was silent except for the beeping of the heart rate machine. It had been an hour and she hadn't woken up yet. Fuck. Had something gone wrong? He couldn't bear that thought and began shaking, lowering his forehead to the hand he was holding and tightly shutting his eyes. He had to be strong, but fuck, was it hard.
Being so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he didn't realise that her thumb was gently caressing his hand. "Shit. You're moving faster than the highest setting on my vibrator," she joked.
Lifting his head, his eyes shot open instantly as his mind went into overdrive. He quickly looked at her face and saw that she was awake and looking at him with concern. Was she concerned for him? She was the one in the fucking hospital bed. "You okay?" She asked.
"Yeah, I, um..."
"You look like shit." A smile grew across his face, which was still covered in Loman's blood. She budged across and patted the space on the bed next to her. Within seconds, he took his place beside her. On the table there was a glass of water so she took a sip, then cleaned his face, using the pillowcase behind her head as a cloth and dipping it into the glass. She did it gently and with a loving touch.
She started to speak, but he interrupted her. "I think I'm going to cry."
For some reason, this made her laugh. It was a beautiful sound, genuine and sincere. But as soon as she finished, she replied, "Yeah, #metoo,"Â which made him chuckle. Touching their foreheads together, the pair quietly sobbed. As they held each other, Adrian felt some of the tension leave his body. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn't realised how tense he'd been.
When they finally pulled apart, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and asked, "What do we do now?"
"I know I've just woken up, but I'm absolutely shattered," she declared, pulling his head onto her shoulder, "So, we are going to sleep and will worry about things tomorrow."
Turning on his side and placing his arm around her, Adrian accidentally brushed her injury. "Fuck. "Sorry, baby," he apologised. She groaned and moved his hand further up, far away from her wound. He had a tendency to squeeze her closer to him when he woke up, and that would certainly pop her stitches.
Rapidly, the couple fell into an exhausted slumber and didn't get out of bed until the next morning. Yet, it wasn't a peaceful sleep for either of them. Y/N would often wake up in cold sweats, the image of what she had done to her father etched in the forefront of her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, she would see the hole she had put in his head. Adrian would open his eyes and quickly survey the room, looking for any sign that she was hurt. He would calm down when he placed his head on her chest, just above her heart, and listened as it kept a steady rhythm.
Nurses passing by her window would look in and couldn't help but smile at the pair clutched in each other's arms.
Visiting hours arrived, and Chris made his way inside, pushing Emilia's wheelchair in front of him. The couple were still asleep when their friends arrived. Chris took the seat next to the bed. "I can't help but think this is my fault," Emilia admitted, looking down at her hands.
"It's not," he said, pulling her hand into his. "Y/N chose to run off without backup, and Adrian was stupid enough to follow her."
Opening her eyes, Y/N agreed, "Yeah, it was a bad move on my part." Her hand moved to Adrian's arm and gently brushed her hand across his skin, subtly waking him up with her touch. He smiled at her as he groggily moved his head into her neck, his arms squeezing her closer to him. She expected that. She continued, "I should have waited."
"Yeah, you should have," Chris declared. This caused Adrian to shoot awake. They weren't alone. Not that it really mattered, since his crew knew that he was absolutely whipped.
"Hey," Adrian greeted as his eyes scanned the faces of his co-workers around them. "You guys came to check on us?"
"Well, I came to see if you were dead cause you look catatonic when you sleep, but yeah," Chris joked, punching his friend in the arm. "Of course we came, buddy."
Emilia added, "Plus, we need to know what happened for the mission report."
Chris squeezed her hand as if she had said the wrong thing and corrected, "That too. It was mostly because we were worried, right, Emi?"
They had cute little nicknames too. Adrian and Y/N noticed and looked at each other knowingly.
"Of course," she replied in a sweet tone.
Leota and John soon arrived; each had an extra set of clothes for the couple in their arms. "John picked this top out for you," she stated, holding out a t-shirt that said 'how do you want to do this?' on the front with a d20 dice icon just under it. "I tried to get one with a corgi on it but- "
Butting in, John argued, "They're nerds. They're going to prefer Critical Role over a stupid dog!"
The argument continued for a while before Adrian confirmed, "We're more cat people actually."
Within a week, she was out of the hospital and on the way back to her house. Her actual house. Not the hotel. Hobbling past the threshold, she took a deep breath and made it inside. Home sweet home. Everything was still in its place. No one had been here in weeks.
"You okay?" Adrian asked, rushing over to her and taking her face in his hands to check on her.
"Yeah," she replied. He had gone into super protective mode, which was sweet. A little overbearing, but she knew it was because he cared. "Pookie, I'm fine."
In the hospital, they were constantly surrounded by people. His co-workers. Nurses. Doctors. Janitors. It was hard to be alone together, and by the time night came around, they were both wiped out.
But now, they were finally free, so she pulled him closer to her by his belt and brought him in for a kiss. He tasted so good. So good that she nearly lost her balance. He held her up as his strong hands slid down her body to squeeze her ass. Everything inside her instantly flipped, and the kiss turned into something far more heated.
Neither of them had bothered to close the front door.
Once they broke apart, they heard the door getting knocked on. It was Mrs Davenport, her neighbour, who stood awkwardly in the frame, a parcel or two in her hands. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jane. Didn't see you there," Y/N apologised, taking Adrian's hands off her butt.
"I got your mail for you," she said shyly. Clearly, she had seen their display of affection. "I couldn't help but notice that you're back from holiday."
Holiday? That was one way to put it.
Taking the items from Jane's hands before Y/N could, Adrian swiftly placed them on the coffee table and waited for their neighbour to piss off, placing his hands on his hips.
"Are you okay?" Jane asked, genuine concern evident in her voice, noticing how Y/N grunted in pain as she attempted to grab the letters.
"I'm fine," Y/N replied, not about to get into everything with her nosy neighbour. A simple "I got shot" would suffice.
"Oh dear, if you need anything, you know where to find me," Jane said.
"Thank you." With that, Jane left, and Y/N quickly shut the door and made her way to the parcels, which Adrian had sat down and started to open.
"Hey, mister, are these addressed to you?" She joked. "Pretty sure that's a felony."
Adrian held up a letter that he had yet to open and informed her, "This one is." Woah. It had come to the point in their relationship where he got his mail sent to her house. That made sense. They had practically lived together for months; he barely stayed at his own home anymore.
"Anyway," he continued, handing one that he had already read through, "It seems as if your brothers are visiting."
Huh? Y/N opened it to find a letter from Percival that had Cyril's handwriting only at the bottom. It kind of made sense. Her parents were last seen at her house before they ended up in a 'dangerous gas leak explosion' in Gotham. Of course they would want answers.
"Just try and not kill them," he teased. Straight after saying this, he watched for her reaction. He had meant it as a joke, but it was still a touchy subject. It just kind of came out. The words had left his mouth before he had realised what they were.
Widening her eyes, she couldn't help but hold back her laugh. That was dark. She should be offended. But she wasn't. Scrunching his shirt with her hand, she pulled his lips to hers, mumbling, "You're such an asshole."
Cheesily, he retorted, "But I'm your asshole."
Pulling away, she light-heartedly argued, "I'm pretty sure I have my own asshole."
"Oh, I know. I've been-" She cut him off by going back in for a kiss. He responded by wrapping his arms around her and deepening the kiss, lowering them so she was on top of him. Fuck. He had missed this. She had missed this too.
As they kissed, Y/N couldn't help but remember the first time they were in this position. In this very room. Their first time together. It seemed so long ago. When they finally came up for air, Y/N held Adrian's face in her hands and looked him deep in the eyes. "Adrian?" She whispered.
"Yeah?" He replied, smiling up at her.
"Want to get married, like, as soon as possible?" She asked. Originally, she had said that she would only get married if her father could be there. That idea had to be thrown out of the window. He wasn't going to be there for her, whether she liked it or not.
"Yes," Adrian eagerly replied, without even a moment's hesitation. "Yes, I do."
He placed sloppy pecks across her skin, moving from her forehead to her neck, and between each he would say one word of the following sentence: "Don't you want a big wedding where we spend an absurd amount of money to shove how much we love each other in the faces of our friends and family?"
Putting it plainly, she responded, "We hardly have any family. And we have around five friends."
And that's exactly what happened. They texted their friends, 'Hey, it's short notice, but we are getting married today. L/N residence at 5? Just bring yourselves (and a partner if you want)'.
Inviting A.R.G.U.S and her D&D party was their top priority since they both knew all the people in both groups. Most of her friends were working because they were just regular people with regular 9-5 jobs and couldn't book time off at such short notice. A typical response was 'đOmg, congrats.đ Wish I could come, but my bitch-ass boss will fire me if I take another sick day. '
Adrian had thought about inviting Philip as a way to gloat. But he knew that he was working and would say no anyway. Plus, just seeing his face would make his jealousy pipe up. Best not to.
Having found a website called onehourmarriage.com, they were all set within no time. She paid them extra to drive all the way to Evergreen as soon as they could.
Wearing the finest duds they could find on such short notice, Chris (dressed in the cleanest version of his uniform he had) extended his arm for her to hold as she walked down the aisle, also called her back garden.
"You look great," Chris commended. She looked down at her dress. Adrian and Y/N had been planning to go as Beetlejuice and Lydia for Halloween, so she had acquired a puffy red floor-length gown, which was perfect. "Aren't wedding dresses supposed to be white?"
She shrugged and started strolling towards the minister, pulling Chris with her. She had expected to be flippant about the whole marriage thing, but looking up at Adrian's beaming face, she couldn't have been more excited. He had managed to find one of his old church suits that still fit. It was snug, but he believed it showed off his muscles an appropriate amount.
Catching her eye as she walked down the aisle, a potted cactus in her hand because she didn't have any flowers for a bouquet (so she opted for the nearest thing she could find), Adrian winked and couldn't help but feel his chest swell as her cheeks flushed pink. She had been nervous about the wedding, but the man she was marrying had made all the waiting worthwhile.
Getting to the minister, she pecked Chris on the cheek and thanked him. He and Adrian then fist-bumped (he did it correctly this time). After their little bro moment, she turned to face her soon-to-be husband and undid one of his buttons. Laughing, she taunted, "You are going to pop out of that thing." That got a few chuckles.
The ceremony was, to put it bluntly, short. It was, for lack of a better word, fast. When the rings were called for, Leota shook a container of treats and two little dogs dressed in tuxedos came running up, rings on their backs. They had just chosen to use their engagement rings as their wedding rings. Hey, it was on short notice.
"Adrian Allen Chase: Do you take Y/N M/N L/N to be -"
Before the minister could finish his sentence, Adrian interrupted, "I do."
Lightly chuckling, the minister carried on, "Y/N M/N L/N: do you- "
"Fuck yeah, I do."
"By the power vested in me by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." There, those words were out. She was his. He was hers.
The pair goofily punched the air, then immediately went in for the kiss. A few people in the audience clapped, and someone yelled, "Way to go, Ay." It was Chris.
Peacemaker's praise caused Adrian to go further, and he placed his hands on the small of her back and dipped her. She trusted his strength fully and happily let him hold her. Y/N melted against him, so he deepened the kiss, feeling her response. They had forgotten that they were in front of people.
When they pulled back, their friends started cheering and wolf-whistling. He was sure he heard Emilia playfully shout, "Get a room, losers!"
Adebayo, who was in a very awesome pantsuit, had been taking pictures the entire time and managed to get an incredibly cute one of their kiss. She held out her camera to Keeya, and they both couldn't help but stare in awe. Fuck, those two weirdos looked so good in their get-ups.
Chris rushed up and got Adrian in a playful headlock, messing up his hair in the process. "Shit, dude, this is crazy."
"Fuck yeah, it is," Adrian agreed.
Letting him free of his grapple, Chris placed his hands on his buddy's shoulders and complimented, "I don't know how you convinced her to do this, but well done, brother."
Brother.
With pride swelling in his chest, Adrian responded, "She asked me."
"She asked you?" Chris repeated disbelief in his voice. He turned to look at Emilia and once again repeated, "She asked him."
Also surprised, John joined in, "She asked him?!"
The minister stayed and joked around for a while. He was slightly confused about why the hero Peacemaker was casually at this wedding. As he was leaving, one of Y/N's D&D party members arrived. It was Sadie. She played a lawful good goblin artificer and was incredibly sweet. "Sorry. Sorry for missing the ceremony."
"No worries," Y/N comforted, walking up to her friend. Adrian hadn't let go of her hand yet, so he followed her wherever she walked. "You made it. That's enough."
Holding out a pink gift-wrapped present, Sadie announced, "This is from the party. It was my idea so don't let Frank take any of the credit when you see him next."
"I won't," Y/N promised, smiling. She took the gift, and Adrian had to move his hand to her waist so she could open it. Inside were two little figurines with their hands melted together.
One blue gunslinger and one red bard.
Their PCs. It was surprising that they still owned Adrian's mini. He had just assumed they had tossed it. When she turned to show the gift to her new husband, it took him a while to recognise his old character, so she explained, "Look, it's us."
He gently took the figures from her hand and inspected them closely, commenting, "That's so fucking cool."
Placing their new gift on the centrepiece of the room (the coffee table), they introduced Sadie to their other guests. Including John, who wished that he had dressed up more when he saw her because that would've made a better first impression. Still, as they spoke, she seemed to find him interesting.
Over Sadie's shoulder, Adrian gave Economos a thumbs-up as encouragement. John sighed, rolled his eyes, and tried to ignore Adrian as he spoke to the girl.
34. To Hot Wives!
Talking with Leota and her wife, Y/N sat up on her kitchen counter like she usually did. There was a window behind her, through which you could see the sun setting in the distance. It was nice. Peaceful.
Not for long. She caught Adrian's eye as he walked into their bedroom. His gaze met hers. The love in his eyes was strong as he motioned for her to follow him. She did so without question. "Sorry. My husband is beckoning me," she apologised to Leota.
As soon as she made it through the door, he pushed her against it and attacked her with smooches. It was fast, frantic, and left her breathless.
"Get off," she giggled, playfully pushing him away and began making her way to her bathroom in an attempt to evade his kisses. That was a slippery slope. She failed since he (of course) followed her.
Wrapping his arms around her and picking her up, he whispered, "Sorry, Mrs Chase. I can't help it. You just look so good." She couldn't help but smile at her new name. Mrs Y/N Chase. That was her. From now on, that was her name. Her legal name. Her married name.
Closing and locking the door behind them, he carried her into the restroom and instantly attached his mouth to her neck. He made a mess of it, his sloppy kisses leaving a trail of saliva. But not for long. She removed his head by lightly pulling on his hair. "Can't you wait for people to go home?"
Setting her down, he plainly answered, "No." That was the answer she expected.
That was the answer she wanted, deep down. "Okay," she responded. He quickly rushed to continue his kiss attack, but she stopped him by moving his head so he had to look into her eyes. "Beg for it."
A grin stretched across his face. "Please, baby."
"I've heard better. Much better."
Remembering how she looked at him when he called her name, he tried again. This time, he had an advantage. Kissing up her arm, he pleaded, "Please, Mrs Chase. My one; my only."
"Please, what?" she asked as she stood on her tippy toes to whisper in his ear, then proceeded to trail kisses down his jaw. "What do you want? Use your words, pookie."
"Fuck me," he groaned. Loudly. He was probably so loud that their guest could hear them. Shaking her head, she laughed and placed a hand over his mouth. Muffled, he got out, "I'll be quiet."
"You'd better be."
Slowly, she undid his shirt. Button by button. It was annoyingly sluggish and was extremely fun to watch his impatient mannerisms. When his shirt finally came off, she ran a hand along his exposed chest, trailing her nail down his body. She repeated this with his belt and zipper.
Due to the feel of his skin against hers, Adrian swallowed harshly and whined, "I can't wait any longer." It would be a lie if she disagreed. So, she slipped out of her dress and let it fall to the floor. His eyes followed it down and lingered on her recovering injury. Now he understood why she didn't like his scars.
Eyes narrowing, she knew that her husband was seconds away from touching her. She loved the look on his face. It was desperate. Hungry. Reaching out, she brought his face to hers and his hand to her clit. He knew exactly what to do. He massaged her like he had done so many times before, and she lost herself in the pleasure.
As soon as she was prepped, she turned around, looked at him in the bathroom mirror, and tossed her hair over one shoulder. "You ready?"
The question was unnecessary. She knew he was. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his breathing, and feel it in his touch. Still, verbal consent is rad. "Fuck, I've been ready ever since we got home ."
Leaning a little over the sink, she pushed herself back on him and waited for him to begin moving when he was comfortable. It didn't take long. When he filled her, she could've cried from the exquisite pleasure. She was never going to get enough of him. And as a bonus, she could watch it all unfold in the mirror in front of them.
Sensing he was about to make a loud noise, she grabbed his hair and placed his head in the crook of her neck so it would stifle any of his moans. He was still pretty vocal, though. "So pretty," he muttered against her skin as he continued to thrust into her, and she matched him stroke for stroke. Steady, deep, hard. "Fuck, so close."
"Fuck, Adrian," she gasped as his name left her lips. He knew what it meant when she urged, "Come on, baby." She didn't need to tell him twice. He sped up, moving faster and harder. It was a matter of seconds before they surrendered to the pleasure, and there was a fuck tonne of it. He held onto her hips to steady them both as they came down.
Groggily lifting his head to catch her eye in the mirror, he weakly imitated Borat, "Mah wife." He even took his hands off her to give her a double thumbs up. That was the first thing he said after consummating their marriage. Well, shit, that's why she loved him.
Bringing her hand across her face to stifle her cackle, she let her head roll back onto his shoulder. He watched her through the mirror as she almost cried with laughter. "You are one weird bastard," she said.
"I know," he answered with a goofy grin. "You are one lucky lady."
That was correct. "I am," she confirmed, still chuckling and removing him from her. "Come on. Our guests have definitely figured out what we have been doing for the last," she checked her watch, "16 minutes."
Waiting for him to snap back to normal, she helped him get redressed. As she was pulling up his trousers, he cockily said, "You know, as soon as they leave, like the moment the last person steps out of the door, I'm going to fuck the absolute shit out of you."
"That's the spirit," she replied, getting up and applying some concealer to a hickey he'd given her. She turned and inspected him in case she had given him any. He wouldn't care, but it was for the photos.
Looking down at her, halting her hand so she'd focus on what he was saying, he clarified, "I'm being serious."
"I know," she said with a mischievous smile, her free hand bringing her thumb across his bottom lip.
He leaned over and planted a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth and tried to go further, but she pulled back and urged him to leave the bathroom. "You are an evil, evil woman, Y/N Chase," he teased just before returning to the party.
Making herself presentable again, she walked into the party and immediately heard Chris taunt, "How was the consummation for you?" She couldn't help but smirk as she waved her pinkie and thumb back and forth as if to say 'totally sick, dude' and winked at Adrian. His confident attitude immediately crumbled into a blushing mess.
As a group, they all decided to order pizza and play some cheesy 'classic' songs to half listen to. It didn't really matter. They were all too busy having their own little celebrations and enjoying each other's company.
Music on shuffle can be a dangerous game. It went from the Spice Girls to the cast of Grease to Hollywood Undead to Weezer in no time.
Technically, their first dance was to 'I Just Had Sex' by the Lonely Island because Chris thought it'd be funny to queue it due to their little rendezvous. The couple knew all the words to the song and loved every second of it. His little prank backfired a little.
Adebayo decided to take over and put more traditional wedding songs on. When a slow song came on, Leota leant down and quietly told Adrian, "Ask your wife to dance."
Confused because they had been dancing (like absolute idiots), he loudly responded, "Why?" Subtlety vanished; Leota mimed slow dancing to him by raising one arm and keeping the other at waist height as she swayed from side to side.
Piecing Leota's clues together before Adrian did, Y/N got up and held her hand out for him to take. She waited for him to get to his feet, then placed his hand on her hip and kept the other clutched in hers. Resting her head on his shoulder, she explained, "And now we sway. You know what to do. We've danced before."
He took her lead, and within a minute, they were in the middle of the living room slow dancing to a song. Feeling awkward in front of everyone, Adrian called out, "Economos, ask Sadie to dance."
"Fuck you, Adrian."
Sadie piped up, "I...I would like to dance." With a nervous sigh, John did as he was asked. Soon, the pair were up in the middle of her living room too, slowly swaying with each other. Leota and Keeya joined after a while.
Emilia looked up at Chris and answered the question he hadn't even asked yet, "My physical therapy has improved enough that I can dance with you for one song."
Chris smirked. "I'll take that."
"Only one."
"That's all I need."
Finally, glancing up at her husband, Y/N jeered, "I know this isn't the wedding you were thinking of, but I hope it was up to your standard."
Smiling, he leaned in and whispered into her ear, "Eh, one of those traditional, big, expensive weddings isn't our style. This is more our speed."
"Oh? What's our style?" she asked, playfully squeezing his hand.
"Kind of aloof. Maybe a little stupid," he paused to signify that he was going to try and say something funny, "But incredibly sexy." Fact.
When the song ended, the group erupted in applause and cheers for the happy couple. The sweet atmosphere soon changed since a bubblegum pop song came on and everyone but the newlyweds stopped vibing.
Finally sitting back down, she could tell that Adrian was becoming restless by the way his hand on her hip would occasionally tighten when she would look over at him. Catching his eye when the others weren't looking, she whispered, "Be good and wait a little longer." That didn't help at all. If anything, it made him hornier.
After tapping his glass, Chris stood up and decided he wanted to make a speech. He didn't need to. Nobody asked him to. But he still did. "I've known Thimble for years."
Honestly, she still had no idea why that was his nickname.
"He's loyal to an annoying degree, and I've tried shaking him off a couple of times." Was this supposed to be nice? Chris continued, "But he's always been there for me, even when I didn't realise I needed him. And it's insane to me that he found someone as batshit as he is."
Batshit? Eh, she'll take it. She's been called worse.
"Adrian, here, is my friend, my brother, and my favourite kind of weirdo. And I'm so glad that he has someone else to constantly call because my voicemail was seriously piling up." He paused to look at Adrian before reaching out and offering a fist bump. Which, of course, Adrian accepted. As their knuckles made contact, Chris added, "Plus, his wife is pretty hot too, so that's a reason to keep him around."
The group all chuckled, even Adrian, who usually hated it when Peacemaker hit on his partner. Butting in, Leota cheered, "To hot wives! Let's hope everyone gets blessed with one."
Nodding, Chris repeated, "To hot wives," and everyone drank to that.
Around 10 was when people started leaving. Chris was the last to go. By the end, he was a little drunk and tried to propose to Emilia. She declined and called an Uber for them.
Basically kicking him out of the door, Adrian bid his #1 BFF goodbye and slammed the door shut. Once alone in the living room, he immediately took his shirt off and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Slipping out of his embrace, she held up a finger and ordered, "Wait. I've got a surprise." He fully intended to begin whining, but she exited before he could argue.
Disappearing and reappearing in a different outfit, she had changed into the red lacy chemise that had caused him to be so flustered when he first came to her house.
"Oh, fuck ," were the only words that fell from his mouth as he took in her newly revealed figure. He looked like he was about to faint. Smiling, she pulled him into the bedroom and pressed her lips to his. It was going to be a long night. Against her lips, he once again cheered, "To hot wives."
It's the battle cry of a generation.
35. The Six Penised Man
It was fair to say that she couldn't walk properly for a few days after their wedding, but shit still has to be done.
When they were both finally exhausted, Adrian collapsed on top of her, his head falling onto her shoulder, out of breath and very sweaty. "Hey, are you okay?" She said, lazily running her fingers along his back. "Your eyes rolled pretty far back. Got me a little worried that I'd fucked you to death."
"Uh-huh, yeah. I'm okay. I think," he panted, "And, if I died whilst in your pussy, that would be, like, the best way to go."
"Hmm, I'd prefer if you stayed alive," she joked, stroking the back of his head. "Necrophilia is not a kink I have."
The comment got a small smile from him and a hoarse, "Good to know," but he seemed distracted.
His fingers caressed her bullet wound, which was still bandaged. "It looks a lot better," he said, pushing himself up slightly so he could look at it, pulling back the gauze. "Still painful?"
"Yeah," she said, her eyebrows furrowing, confused why that was the first thing he thought to do after sex.
Placing the sticky bit back down, he leant down and pressed a soft kiss against the plaster. After a moment, she asked, "What was that for?"
"Because I wish you had lived a life where this wasn't done to you." He told her, rubbing his thumb across her injury. She couldn't help the tears that brimmed in the corners of her eyes as he repeated her own words back to her. And it still hurt. A lot. The wound was healing at a steady pace, and she didn't feel as bad as she thought she would. Physically.
"I think I'd like that too," she said, and tried not to think about the fact that she was now a killer. "But, hey, what happened to us brought us together. I'd take it all over again to see your handsome, nerdy little face every day."
Smirking, he teased, "Now who is the cheesy one?" and moved his lips to hers. The kiss was short and chaste. But it was enough.
After a couple of minutes of comfortable silence in her arms, he broke his gentle caress and cheekily asked, "Do you think you'll be able to walk tomorrow?"
"Absolutely not."
The pair fell asleep as they usually did, with Adrian's nose buried in the crook of her neck and Y/N's hand gently intertwined with his hair.
When the alarm went off the next morning, Y/N's groggy eyes saw Adrian sleeping with his mouth open, drooling down his chin and onto her skin, which made her giggle. He looked so goofy. Sluggishly wiping the sleep from her eyes, she gently placed a kiss on his head, which got a tiny smile out of him as he mumbled, "Hey, beautiful."
"Hey, handsome," she replied in a soft, snoozy voice. "Time to get up."
Rubbing his face with one hand, he smirked and jeered, "See, even in my sleep I drool over you."
After wiping his spit off her, his hand made its way across her chest and ended up groping her boob. He made the sounds "honk honk" in the spur of the moment. Why did he feel the need to do that? Nobody will ever know. Feeling the movement before the sound, his head lightly bounced as she began to laugh.
"Get your hands off me, you perv," she chortled but didn't remove his hand, which, of course, caused him to place his other hand on her other titty.
Never one to back down, she placed her hands over his and squeezed them, forcing his hands to palm her breasts. "We're not having sex," she pointed out, moaning slightly at his touch.
"Oh? I think we should," he said flippantly, moving to kiss her neck, hands still firmly attached to her chest.
"No, we shouldn't," she said, raising her voice to make herself heard over all of his little groans against her skin. Pausing, she had to force the words out of her mouth, knowing that it would inflate his ego so much, "I'm still recovering from last night."
Whipping his head back, he light-heartedly mocked, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes, "Aw, did I fuck you too hard, baby?"
"Nah, there was some other guy that had a go whilst you were in the bathroom," she lied, making it obvious that she was trying to rile him up. "You should've seen him. He had six penises. It was hard to take them all, but I'm a pro, you see."
Y/N had to stop herself from rolling her eyes; it was so comical to watch Adrian's face as it contorted through a range of emotions, as if he was trying to pick the one he was actually feeling. It was so easy to provoke him, even when the situation was complete bullshit.
Shaking his head, he once again planted one straight on her lips. Smirking against her mouth, he continued to fondle her, so he was still feeling lust. Glad he figured it out. "Six penises is a bit excessive," he stated, and you know what, he is correct.
Flipping them over, she reached down for his dick. The fast movement caused a jolt of dull pain to go through her, but she brushed it off. Just because she couldn't take any more doesn't mean he couldn't. Taking his manhood into her hand as she straddled his thighs, she began to stroke it. Her eyes were fixated on his as he realised what she was doing. The smile on his face was pure joy. Pure, unadulterated joy.
Pushing against her palm, he groaned before hissing, "Just go slow. I don't want to cum too fast."
She smiled, leaning forward and nipping at his ear. "If that's what you want, pookie."
As she began to slowly pump his dick, she felt him grasp her ass. He pulled his hips up into her hands, groaning as she continued to move. "Y/N..." he said, his voice heavy with need.
"Mm, Adrian," she purred, grinning from ear to ear. His face had a look of absolute arousal as she continued to pump his cock with fervour.
Without warning him, she sped up. The sudden movement caused a different sensation entirely. A sharper, more intense feeling ran through him. He let out a yell, bucking his hips upwards and dropping his head back. Panting heavily, he cried out and quickly released over his stomach.
Yet, she didn't stop. She lowered her head and took his dick into her mouth. The warmth, wetness, and suction caused him to let out a small growl. He was close to cumming again, and his breath was becoming quicker and shallower. The more she sucked on his dick, the louder he moaned. Their neighbours must hate them.
"Fuck... Y/N!" he groaned. His hands went to her head, fingers locking behind her hair as he tried to hold her in place. She could feel his dick pulsing against her throat as he came.
Slumping back against the pillows, his chest heaved violently. He let out a throaty chuckle before stuttering out, "That was...that was-"
Interrupting him as he was taking too long to get his sentence out, she seductively taunted, "Aw, did I suck you too hard, baby?"
His laugh became a loud, lustful groan as he reached out for her to press against him. "Fuck you, asshole."
She smiled, leaning forward and happily being wrapped in his arms. "Told you, I'm a pro."
"You are a fucking pro," he said before wiping the side of her mouth with his thumb, clearing some of his cum off her lips. "I could spend the rest of my days doing..." He didn't finish his sentence as she pressed her lips to his, kissing him deeply. After a few minutes of passionate snogging, he pulled back. "I'm calling in sick. We are doing this all day."
"They're going to fire you."
"I don't care."
Smiling temptingly and trailing her fingertips across his bicep, she tried offering a compromise, "I'll do that again later-"
"Yes, you've said it now, so you have to-"
Continuing what she began, she added, "Only if you make it to work on time." After a quick bout of protesting, he agreed.
Holy shit, he hadn't been to work in over a week. And, the last time he was there, he left early and stalked a customer, and then they didn't hear from him for 5 shifts, and yesterday he texted Julia, his manager, that his wife (of one hour, at the time of the text) got shot. So yeah, he had taken a few sick days. Adrian's co-workers must be so confused about his life. Maybe they might think he went through a midlife crisis a fair few years too early.
She rolled to the side, smiling as he followed her. Leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss on her temple, he whispered, "Y/N Chase, after all that fucking, I'm starving. Want me to make breakfast?"
"Do not burn the kitchen down."
"I won't burn our kitchen down," he said, an impish glint in his eye. Was he planning on burning her kitchen down?
Really, what is the worst that could happen? She rolled her eyes. "Alright, I'll allow it. Make something easy, though," she ordered.
"I'm on it," he confirmed, pulling his underwear on. With a smirk, she lay in her bed and watched him leave her room (it's a nice sight) before checking her phone.
Incoming from Percy.
Picking it up, she bluntly greeted her brother, "What do you want, Percival?"
"Who is the half-naked guy in your kitchen?"
Hanging up, she got out of bed and placed enough clothes to cover herself on her body. It was sore. That is the only applicable word. But she pushed through it and limped to her door and swung it open.
Standing on her porch were her older brothers, Percival and Cyril, luggage in hand. Percival stood off to the side, looking in through her living room window. She fucking hated her family. He could've just knocked on her front door.
It was hard to look at them. They looked so much like David. Sighing, she said, "Fuck. Come on in," and moved out of the way so they could enter.
Last night they hadn't cleaned up after their friends left, so her house was in slight disarray. It wasn't exactly pig style, but it was noticeable as soon as they walked in.
Adrian heard the commotion and instantly arrived beside her, placing his arm around her waist protectively as he asked, "Who the hell are these guys?"
"Could say the same to you, mate," Cyril retorted.
Pointing to the smaller of the two, she introduced Cyril first. Then moved on to Percy. "Short stack is C and Fred Flintstone here is Percy, my older brothers, who I did not know were arriving so soon," she explained unenthusiastically, looking between the pair.
Suddenly, realising he was undressed, Adrian excused himself to put some clothes on. The newly reunited siblings just stood in silence, glaring at each other. None of them wanted to be the first to speak. He returned moments later and realised he had burnt the waffles he was making. "Oh, fuck," he exclaimed, looking down at the charred food.
Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "At least nothing is on fire this time," she jested.
When it was disposed of, Adrian soon returned to her side, so she declared to her remaining family members, "This is my husband, Adrian."
Percival immediately and loudly asked, "Husband?"
Cyril was equally hysterical. "We don't hear from you for a whole year and you get married in that time? What the fuck?"
Correcting him, she clarified, "Uh, it's actually 9 months and 3 weeks since I moved, so if you're going to argue, at least know the facts."
"When was the ceremony?"
"Yesterday."
Her brothers' eyes went wide, and they slumped down on the sofa. Y/N and Adrian looked at each other, both unsure of what to make of the situation. So she tried to ease his tension by commenting, "Bet that you're glad you have to go to work today. Right?"
Next Chapter -> 36-40
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Story Summary -> Adrian makes a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl, but hey, when doesnât he? Sheâs weird, funny, and treats him gently, which obviously makes him obsessed with her, and much to his surprise, she seems to like having him around too. Together, they try to carve out a peaceful life, yet her less than perfect family messes up their harmony.
Can their love survive alley fights, mob bosses, and a robotic eggman? It will be a tough ride, but theyâre prepared to give it a go.
Entire Story Tags -> Dungeons & Dragons References, Gun Violence, Idiots in Love, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Children, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Animal Attack, DC Comics References, Mutual Pining, Bisexual Christopher Smith | Peacemaker, Domestic Fluff, Organized Crime, Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Kidnapping, Mommy Issues, First Meetings, First Kiss, Autism, Long-Term Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Soulmates, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Autistic Adrian Chase, Blood and Violence, Substance issues, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Unplanned Pregnancy, Gotham City is Terrible, Hospitalization, Blood and Injury, Crimes & Criminals, Written Before S2
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Previous Chapter -> 21-25
26. Felony
As soon as he could, Adrian spread the news of their engagement to anyone who would listen. He didn't want to wait another second. He wanted to get it out of the way and start their married life together, but she had one condition: they could only get married if her father was present. She had not heard from David since they captured Laura. It was expected that Lawrence would give the man he cucked protection. But that also meant he hadn't called her in a while. It was beginning to worry her.
Confidently standing behind her, arms helping her hold a gun, he showed her how to properly aim and fire. She wasn't very good, but she was getting better. "I think you might need glasses," he informed her.
"Oh yeah, I have a pair. Never wear them," she explained.
What the hell? He had never seen her with her own glasses on. She had put his on a few times and teased him about how blind he was. Hypocrite. Realising he could taunt her as she often did to him, he turned her body around by her shoulders and stuck his middle finger in her face. "How blind are you? Tell me, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Pressing the gun, which she had remembered to put the safety on, into his chest, she playfully threatened, her voice falsely serious, "Don't use my moves against me. Or it will be the last thing you'll ever do."
To say that this turned him on would be an understatement. The way she held the gun pointed at him, her expression, and the way her voice got lower to threaten him, it was hot as hell. Noticing the way his breath deepened, she placed the barrel under his chin to see how he would react. It sent a jolt of excitement through him.
"Oh shit. What the hell?" Both of their heads whipped around to see who spoke. It was Chris. She lowered the gun and moved in front of Adrian so his boner was hidden. "I guessed you two would be into some weird shit."
Smiling sheepishly, Adrian responded without any shame, "You're right, dude. Fuck, she pegged me last week."
"I fucking knew it."
"And the week before that, she totally let me try ana-" He began, but she placed her palm over his mouth so that he couldn't continue. To argue back, he pressed himself closer to her, pulling her by the waist nearer to his erection.
If Chris had noticed, he didn't mention it. They stuck around idly chatting until his indiscretion had gone down, then bid their goodbyes.
Despite being pursued by the mob, she still attended her D&D sessions every week. But she promised herself that tonight would be the last. She had other things to do. Gun training. Book writing. Surviving. Wedding planning. There were a slew of issues that were more pressing than her party.
When the session ended, she waited and waved as everyone else made their way down the streets. Hughie, the Dungeon Master, looked at her quizzically. Had she finally picked up on all the hints he had been sending her way? No. She hadn't. She wasn't even looking for them.
"Is there something you need?" He asked, trying to act cool and leaning on the doorframe. "What can I do you for? Shit, I mean, do for you?"
Tilting her head, she ignored his question and asked her own, "Why are you standing so weirdly?"
Instantly, he straightened himself and returned to a normal stance. He lied, "I'm not standing weirdly."
Brushing past this, she stated, "I'm going to have to put this on pause. Got a lot coming up in my life and I love this party, but I won't have any time."
Vigilante was watching this conversation from his usual spot by the dumpster. He glared as he saw the way his old buddy Hughie was looking at his girl. But it's fine. They're just chatting. Right?
"Whaaat? That's crazy. The guys will be lost without you," Hughie insisted. "You sure you can't squeeze us in?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a red visor and began walking towards him. "Sorry, man."
Making her way down Hughie's drive, she managed to get halfway before he yelled down at her, "Wait. Hold up a sec."
She stopped in place and turned around to see him jogging to meet her. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "Do you want to, like, get a drink or something sometime? If it fits into your busy schedule?"
Confused because she definitely mentioned that she had a partner at multiple points, she bluntly responded, "No."
"No?"
"No," she confirmed.
"Why?"
Holding her hand up to show him the ring, she explained, "I'm engaged."
"Engaged?" Hughie asked. "Who's the lucky bastard?"
"Adrian Chase."
No way. Hughie and Adrian used to be friends in high school. "Adrian? That dumb fuck is with you?"
Walking away, she responded, "That's not very nice."
Before she could leave his threatened area, he reached out and tried to grab her wrist. Not out of any malice, but it was the only way he could think of to bring her back into the conversation. Feeling his touch, she swiftly turned around and, instinctively, connected her fist with his face.
Stunned, his eyes widened as he took a step back and raised his hand to the pain that was spreading across his cheek. That was going to leave a mark.
Appearing next to her in an instant, Vigilante swiftly ran up, gun pointing at Hughie. He would shoot and wouldn't think twice.
She grabbed his arm and lowered the weapon whilst declaring, "No. No, it was a misunderstanding. Don't shoot." She moved in front of Hughie. Placing her hands on Adrian's shoulders, she kept him from trying to fight the nerd and apologised, "Sorry about the punch, Hughie, but you shouldn't grab girls when they're trying to get away from you."
Using his Vigilanteâąïž voice, Adrian swore, "Fucking prick. I'll put a bullet in you if you try that again."
"No," she lied. And she knew that, under his mask, Adrian's angry pout had turned into a smug smile. "Later, Hughie."
Walking hand in hand, occasionally stopping if he wanted to reprimand some low-level criminals, the pair made their way to the hotel. He no longer killed people for petty crimes; he just roughed them up a bit. Okay, a lot. He couldn't be bothered to murder them for misdemeanours. If he were caught, that would be more life sentences, and he already had too many.
The way to the hotel passed Fennel Fields, so she had planned to go have a chat with Gary, the homeless man who often got high there. He wasn't there.
Drug possession is a felony.
Looking up into his visor, she asked, "Did you do it?" He stayed silent. That was a yes. "Okay, I think it would be best if I walked the rest of the way by myself, so I won't say anything I will regret."
He saw how her smile dropped and she separated their hands. Fuck. He fucked up.
"Oh. Okay, um, I'll do one more sweep, then I'll be back home." He looked down at the floor so he didn't have to see the angry expression on her face. "Be home in an hour?"
"Make it two."
"Two, it is."
That may be enough time for her to calm down enough to look him in the eye again. Of all the people in the city, he had to kill her friend for drug charges. That one hit deep. She wouldn't forget it.
With a curt nod, she turned and began walking. He stared silently, not moving. Before she crossed the road, she reminded him, "I still love you. No matter what, okay?"
"I love you more."
Two hours passed slowly. Adrian would consider those the longest two hours of his life. There was no crime going on, so he had to be alone with his thoughts. It was the middle of the night, and the city was sleeping.
He made it back to the hotel room and hoped that she was asleep. He could rip off his suit, snuggle up next to her, and they could talk about it in the morning. Or not at all. They probably should discuss it a little.
She was awake. She had thought about it. It wasn't cool. But in some strange, morbid way, maybe Gary got what he wanted. Every time she offered him help or a chance at life, he declined. Did he want to die? Probably not. Was eternal nothingness better than hot sweats, insatiable cravings, and the struggle of being on the street? Maybe. Who knows?
Making his way through the door, he noticed her sitting on a chair in her underwear. As soon as she saw him, she instructed, "Keep the mask on."
"As you wish," he answered. He wasn't sure why. But he was willing to do whatever she wanted.
Strutting up to him, she took his gun from his belt and held it to his temple. "You're going to fuck me until I'm no longer angry at you."
"Oh, okay. I can do that." That was a better outcome than he couldâve imagined.
"Good." Hurriedly removing his suit whilst she held him at gunpoint, his hands came up to take off his mask, but she stopped him. "Vigilante is going to fuck me. Not Adrian."
Not knowing why, this had a very big effect on him. Now he understood why she told him that he was going to fuck her. He was going to take the lead this time. Not the other way around, like it usually was.
Quickly, he moved behind her and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the ground. His hands wandered across her bare skin. He wanted to touch her everywhere and she would let him. Arousal hit him like a freight train. Just as he had done earlier in the day, he pressed himself against her back. A soft moan escaped her lips, and she let out a breath, leaning back against him.
"Least Chris isn't here this time," he noted.
Wanting to cause a little bit of possessiveness, as he had shown with Hughie, she offered, "Peacemaker can always join, if he wants to."
Picking her up, walking towards the window, and squishing her slightly against the glass, he dismissively mumbled, "No, he fucking can't."
Mission completed. Yet, she could do better than that. As his fingers found her clit, she added, "Could always ask Hughie to join. He did ask me out, after all."
Freezing his movements, he asked, "What?"
"Asked me if IÂ wanted to get a drink with him. Get the alcoholic drunk and who knows what she'll do?"
Roughly, he inserted two fingers in without warning and began moving them. Her head fell back on his shoulder and her eyes fluttered. He resentfully whispered into her cheek, "You should've let me shoot that guy. Fucking nerdy, little-dicked cunt."
His words, and their implication, had her like putty in his hand. He could mould her however he wanted. He began to toy with her, rough-handling but still caring. She writhed under his attention. He liked watching her reactions. Seeing her face contort in passion made his desires surge forward. Possessively, he grunted, "What did you say to him? When he asked you out, huh?"
Nudging her further against the window, he pulled down her underwear and harshly entered her from behind. Each thrust caused the glass to make a little sound on impact. She took one of his hands from her waist and placed it around her neck. That just encouraged him to go harder. Soon they were slick with sweat.
"And who is that?"
"It's... fuck." He stopped what he was doing so he could hear her perfectly as she said, "It's you."
It didn't take long before they cried out each other's names. In this instance, she decided to moan the name of his alter ego. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not. Part of him did. Another, more prominent, part of him wanted her to say his real name. Who he truly was.
Coming down, they both looked up to find a random creeper looking from the opposite side of the window. She gazed into Adrianâs eyes and told him, "I think we gave him a pretty good show," as she pulled the drapes shut.
27. Boobie? Nice.
Moments later, she reached up and gently took his mask off, revealing his flushed face. He was still breathing deeply. "Hey," she said, as if they hadn't just fucked and this was the first time she'd seen him this evening.
"Hi."
"You okay?" she asked. Ever since he was electrically cock and ball tortured, it had taken him longer to recover from any activity down there. He would always be a little sensitive and dazed for a couple of minutes afterwards. It had been this way ever since they got together, and she was used to it at this point.
He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." She made her way to get a towel to help clean them off, then returned to him.Â
Leaning up on her tippy toes, she kissed his cheek reassuringly and complimented, "That was so good. Great job, cowboy."
Breaking into a smile, he leant down so she could press their lips together. She did, and as they were snogging, she methodically moved him so he could rest against the bed. He looked so tired. And a little worried. "What you said about Hughie? Was that you just trying to mess with me?"
"No, it's the truth." She admitted as she pushed his shoulders down softly so that he would sit. When he did as she instructed, she knelt before him and began wiping him with the towel, gently cleaning him off. He ogled at her as she worked. "Pookie, you've got nothing to worry about."
He didn't respond. Something about Hughie annoyed him. For lack of better words, he was Hughie. Nerdy. Awkward. Had a shit job. Glasses that only paedophiles and hipsters wear. If she could be with him, she could be with Hughie.
Taking his chin in her hand, she admired him and said, "I love you, baby. You know that, don't you?" Still, he didn't respond. She kissed his cheek again and quietly ordered him to "Tell me you love me." She knew he did; she just wanted him to say it out loud.
Instantly, he confessed, "Fuck, of course. Of course I do." His eyes widened as he looked at her. Had he made her think he no longer wanted to be with her? "I don't know many things. But the one thing I'm 100% sure about is that I love you, like, so much. More than I love guns."
Chuckling, she stared into his eyes. More than guns? That was a lot. "Good answer," she said as she cleaned her own body and used the bathroom (nobody wants a UTI). When she was done, she gestured for him to get into bed with her. "Come here."
Without protest, he crawled in and lay down on her chest. She stroked his hair. Before falling asleep, he hummed a little apology, "I'm sorry about Gary."
"I know you are."
In a way to show that he had heard what she had said, he placed a kiss on the nearest place that his mouth could find and reassuringly squeezed whatever his hand was on. It was on her boob. The final thing he said was, "Boobie? Nice," and fell into the calming state of slumber.
She listened to his breathing and watched him sleep. It was nice. He always looked so peaceful. Like a deranged angel.
As she attempted to drift off to sleep, she wondered what would come of their relationship. They loved each other, sure, but that wouldn't keep them alive. Not if they were being realistic about their situation. If they stayed together, they would almost certainly be caught and killed. But if she left, what would come of it? Could she convince Loman to leave A.R.G.U.S. alone? Adrian couldn't take on a whole mob by himself. He needed help from the inside.
8 am shift. That's the one she had elected to take the next day. She hadn't been able to get to sleep before it was time to get up. Cancelling her alarm so it wouldn't wake him up, she gradually shifted from under him and got dressed quietly. Taking one last look at him, she kissed his forehead and left a little note on the bedside table.
Making it to her scheduled watch five minutes early, she walked in to find Emilia. "Hey."
"You look like shit."
Harcourt had always been suspicious of Y/N. It took a while for both of them to trust someone. But they'd both admit that if either of them let their guard down for a moment, they would be a good team. "As charming as ever, Harcourt."
The pair began talking, going over the next point of action, preparing for the future. One eagle eye was always looking over at Laura.
When Emilia had to exit the room to use the bathroom, Y/N rushed to her mother and undid the ties around her waist, allowing her to stand. She was wobbly due to the massive amount of time she had spent tied to the chair.
Placing her arm under her mother and dragging her out of the building and into her car, Y/N drove straight to Loman's house, fingers tapping a little tune on the steering wheel. Roughly pulling her mother, still gagged and weak, she strutted up to his front door and knocked loudly. As soon as the door opened to show some random mobster, she smiled and politely said, "Hi, is Mister Loman in? I have a gift for him."
Hearing his goddaughter's voice, he pushed past his employee. "Hey, kid?" Then he saw his injured lover in her hands. Scanning the street for any witnesses, he informed them, "Come inside before anyone sees you."
Making her way inside, she rubbed the back of her neck and inspected the inside for any sign of David.
Unfortunately, a passer-by had watched the whole exchange. With a nod of his head, Loman got one of his henchmen to discreetly shoot them and pull the body into the garage.
Emilia immediately called her co-workers when she returned to find the prisoner missing. She started with Chris.
Adrian woke up before his phone went off. His arm reached for her side of the bed. Nothing. Thinking that she had gotten out of bed, he lifted himself and rested on his elbows, eyes moving from left to right across the room. Nowhere to be found.
A sinking feeling settled in his gut.
Groggily, he answered his phone when it rang. The sounds of Barbie Girl woke him in an instant. As Harcourt was yelling at him to get his ass to the base, he noticed Y/N's note. It brought a lump to his throat. 'Be back as soon as I can. I love you, pookie. No matter what.'
Fuck. What dumb shit had she done?
"Where's Y/N?" He asked, knowing that Harcourt would never divulge sensitive information over the phone.
From the other side of the line, he heard as Chris took the phone from her hands and urged him, "Vee, get here quick. Okay, man?"
"Okay."
With a pounding heart, he hung up and dialled Y/N's number. It was in the hotel room on the dresser. He had forgotten that her ringtone was the Crazy Frog. Fuck. They were perfect for each other.
She hadn't taken her phone? Maybe she didn't want to be found.
Arriving last, like usual, Vigilante walked into the video shop. His co-workers all watched as he sat down and crossed his arms. "Where is she?"
Information about their little encounter hadn't yet been given, so Emilia addressed her team, "Under my watch, Y/N transported the prisoner out of here to her father's house."
"So, she betrayed us," John claimed.
Glaring at him, Adrian threatened, strangely composed, "Want to say that again, motherfucker?"
John shrank in his seat. "No, I don't."
Wiping the corner of his mouth with his pistol, Adrian exhaled slowly, "Good."
For a while, the group was silent. The tension simmered as Adrian was yet to sheathe his weapon and he was known to be impulsive. Chris held his hand out expectantly for the gun.
At first, he didn't oblige, but then Chris urged, "Dude," and he handed it over. This process occurred with every weapon on Vigilante's person. His two knives. The sword on his back. The four throwing stars that he had just bought and hidden in his belt. He had no idea how Peacemaker knew about those.
Finally feeling comfortable now that Vigilante had no weapons in hand, Harcourt communicated, "Y/N came to me with her plan and I gave it the go-ahead. Alone, she would infiltrate The Squid's operation and use her connections for our benefit."
Sensing that Adrian was about to do something reckless, Chris pushed him back in his seat as he attempted to get up. In the worst-case scenario, he would have to fight his partner in crime to keep his boss safe. Just as Adrian wanted to protect Y/N, Chris wanted to protect Emilia. "I will tie you to this chair, Vee."
With a scowl, Adrian slid back into his original position on the chair. "You sent her into a mob den without any protection."
Emilia's voice rose in volume, "We had discussed her going in next week. So, we'd have time to prepare her, but she had other ideas and left with her mother while I was in the bathroom."
Chris was ready to back Harcourt up. "Yeah, and her dad probably won't hurt her, so she doesn't need protection. Maybe."
It was a low blow, but Adrian snapped back, "Oh, you're not the best judge when it comes to what fathers are willing to do. Are you, White Dragon Jr.?"
While this was going on, Adebayo had been pacing around looking at everything but the argument before her. On one of the desks, against the surface, was a briefcase that wasn't usually there. It was the same type of tracking bomb that Chris had inside his neck. She had no idea why they still had them.
One vial was empty.
"Guys," she yelled, but they didn't pay attention. John stayed quiet. Leota was sure he had put headphones in. Adrian was too busy arguing with Emilia about how 'fucking stupid' she was. Chris would butt in from time to time to defend his gal. Wait, no, not his gal, his boss.
Raising her voice, Leota tried again, "Guys!" It worked. They all turned, even Economos. "I think I know how we can find out where they'll hide her. She's led us straight to them."
John's mouth dropped open. "She willingly put a bomb in her head. " He turned to Adrian and said, "Dude, your girlfriend is as insane as you are."
"No, John, it's so we know she's not backstabbing us," Adrian explained. Y/N would never do anything this reckless without a reason, and he knew her better than he knew himself. "We can track her. And it's a sign of trust. She put a bomb in her head to show that this is for the mission. We hold her life in our hands. Or rather, that button does."Â He pointed to the briefcase's innards, which were a bunch of wires and six big red buttons hidden behind panes of plastic.
"It is kind of insane, though, Vee," Peacemaker added. " I was unconscious and in prison when Waller placed the chip in my head. "Adrian shrugged. Maybe she had gone a little crazy.
"If all else fails, we can detonate the bomb when she's next to Loman." Harcourt probably shouldn't have admitted that.
"You know, when I first met her, I was so worried that you'd do something to get her killed," Peacemaker began, speaking casually as if what he was about to say wasn't going to hurt Adrian's feelings. "I would never have guessed she'd- "
Chris was interrupted by Adrian slamming his forearm into his #1 BFF's throat and pinning him to the wall. Normally, Chris could easily force his way out of a move like this, but whatever adrenaline rush Adrian was experiencing was mega. And he didn't want to hurt his skrunkly friend when he was clearly in a fragile headspace.
Noticing what he had done, Adrian let go and apologised, "Sorry, man, I don't know what came over me."
"It's okay, dude." Chris rubbed his neck, looked at Emilia and shrugged. Getting his ass handed to him by Adrian in front of her would suck.
Strangely, Vigilante felt the need to admit, "It's just that, you know, she's the only thing that I give a shit about and you guys keep talking about how she's going to benefit you." She's a person. My person. Not an asset." This speech is what caused his peers, at long last, to see him as a real person rather than a psychotic killing machine. This proved he cared about someone fully. The relationship between him and Peacemaker could be boiled down to a one-sided expression of superficial admiration. This one couldn't. He loved her truly.
It wasn't an obsession. Or lust. It was love.
28. The Guy With The Dragon Painting
David searched high and low for his wife when she first went missing. He checked hospitals, the mortuary, and police stations. When she wasn't found, he became more frantic. It was three days before he finally gave up. He resigned himself to the fact that she was gone and he couldn't do anything about it. The only thing he could do now was to wait.
As he was walking back to his hotel room, he was passed by a pristine, expensive car. The chauffeur drove a black stretch limo and handed David a card. "The address is on the back."
Ubering to the destination, he walked into an abandoned bar. Scanning around, he found nobody there. "Hello? Anyone there?"
No response. He looked around and saw a card with a phone number on it on the counter. He dialled the number. "Hello?"
On the other line, Loman responded, "David. Great to hear from you. How have you been?"
He scrunched his face up and slumped into the nearest seat. Of course, it had something to do with Lawrence. "Not great, to be honest."
"I can imagine."
"Where's Laura?" He asked sternly. David and Lawrence had never been friends. How could he? Fuck, would you be friendly towards the guy who cucked you?
Sighing, Lawrence admitted, "I don't know." David noticed real worry in his voice. That was one thing they could agree on: their love for Laura.
Reminiscing about their first interaction, David zoned out for a sec. Laura and David had met at one of his art shows. She was a spoilt rich brat who liked to show off. David was a self-made artist. As she gazed up at his masterpiece, he leant across and asked, "What do you think?"
Sipping on her champagne, she remarked, "It's a juvenile piece of shit." She had no idea that he had created it. Looking up at him, she smiled and joked, "My seven-year-old cousin could use her crayons and create something more stylistic than whatever this is supposed to be."
Harsh criticism. He found her honesty endearing. "I think it's supposed to be a dragon."
"How did you figure that out?"
Goofily, he placed his head on the little placard next to the painting that had an image of him in the corner and pointed at himself and the photo.
"Oh shit. Pretend I didn't say that," she laughed.
Returning to her side, he shrugged and offered, "You could always make it up to me over dinner. " It was worth a shot. And it worked.
The memory ended, and David snapped back to the bar. He had a decision to make: should he carry out this conversation with Loman or take his chances and try to make it back to Evergreen to be with his daughter?
"Get in the car, David."
Outside, a mobster who had a pistol attached to his waist opened the bar door and pointed towards a limo. David had no choice. He had to get in or be shot.
Y/N had not yet seen her father in Loman's house. She was unsure of what to expect and was willingly shuffled into the basement.
Lawrence made his way down behind them and helped Y/N carry Laura down the stairs. The three of them entered a large room with an expansive bar and nice leather chairs facing it. This room was way nicer than anything above ground. Everything here was of high quality.
On the other side of the room was David, unshaved and shabby. As soon as Y/N saw him, she stopped aiding her mother and rushed over to him, scanning to see if he was injured in any way.
"It's okay, Moo. I'm fine." He reached out and comfortingly rubbed her arm. After checking that she was okay, David looked past her to his wife and helped Lawrence escort her to a seat.
Finally feeling the comfort of a luxuriously padded seat, Laura sank into it and pulled down her gag. Smiling at Loman, she asked, "Got a gun?"
Nodding, he waved to one of his employees, who handed him one without question. Laura took it and pointed it towards her daughter. "You could've broken me out sooner."
"I was waiting for the right time."
The gun shook in her hand. "Bullshit."
David reached out and gently took the gun from her. She initially resisted but quickly gave in due to tiredness. She had never seen her parents be particularly affectionate with each other. So, it was strange when Lawrence wrapped an arm around her and kissed the crown of her head.
In response, Y/N walked over to the bar and poured a drink for her father. Handing it to David, she couldn't help but show how angry she was. It was shameless. He took it, noticing the new ring on her finger, and downed the drink in one go.
After whispering to his subordinates, Lawrence addressed everyone, "We've still got some time till the car comes to take us to the private jet. Get ready."
A mobster opened a safe that sat under the bar and pulled out bundles of cash. It was loaded into a black bag and placed at Loman's feet.
As she was looking at that, another mobster injected a sedative into her arm. David managed to catch his daughter before she hit the ground. Within minutes, the dysfunctional family were out of the house and on their way to a new safe house.
From the other side of town, Adrian sat staring at the stolen phone, anxiously waiting for her tracker to pick up her new location. He hadn't moved in a while.
Time was ticking on and he would have to go to work soon. Harcourt had told him that he had to keep up appearances. Maybe it was time to quit.
He handed the phone to Economos and instructed him, "Call me as soon as anything happens." Without looking up, the other man nodded and took the phone.
Looking at her empty booth as he started his shift was like a hit in the gut. He felt hollow and empty. The only thing that piqued his interest was when some guy with a leather jacket and shades asked for her exact order to takeaway. It wasn't an abnormal order, but there was a chance. He decided to play it safe and waited till the customer left to follow him. Grabbing his backpack from the staff room, he followed the guy outside.
Sticking to the wall, he pursued the customer until they came across an alley.
The other guy waited behind the wall and placed a golden knuckle duster over his fingers. As soon as he saw Adrian, he thrust his fist towards his head.
Fuck. That hurt. Reaching up and feeling the blood trickle down his temple, Adrian prepared to fight this dude in his Fennel Fields uniform and hat. "Dude, what the fuck?"
Traversing to the right, Adrian narrowed his eyes and surveyed the guy and his weak spots. Right-handed. Slight limp with the left foot. Faking a lunge, he threw his elbow into the other guy's nose. That was definitely broken. He came up to clutch it and staggered backwards.
"The Squid sent you?"
Regaining his composure and jabbing Adrian in the stomach, the attacker responded, "That's classified information, Vigilante."
Oh fuck. They knew he was Vigilante.
Wincing from the jab to the stomach, he spat out, "Ow. So, that's a yes. You can't fool me, dude."
"No. But I can beat the shit out of you," the mobster taunted, bringing his brandished fist and connecting it with Vigilante's mouth, busting his lip.
Noticing how close his attacker was to his leg, Adrian kneed the guy in the groin and punched him across the cheek. He fell to the ground, clutching his dick.
Looking around, he saw another attacker coming his way. His father-in-law really wanted him fucked up.
Quickly thinking, he kicked Attacker #1 over, his duster falling off his hand. Adrian picked it up and noticed it had a squid embossed on the side. He placed it over his right hand. It wasn't his usual weapon of choice, but it would work.
Attacker #2 ran up and tried to kick Vigilante in the chest. Adrian caught his leg with his hand and pushed him backwards, giving him enough time to jump on the guy's knee and kick him in the face. In the process, his hat gracefully fell off his head onto the ground.
"Fuuuuuck!" Attacker #2 howled in pain, feeling the bone break within.
Doing a little dance, Adrian taunted, "How'd you feel about that, motherfucker?" Wiping the blood from his lip, Adrian slammed the duster into Attacker #2 forehead, knocking him out.
Finally getting to his feet, Attacker #1 wasn't deterred from the fight even though he saw his co-worker get absolutely rocked without Adrian breaking much of a sweat. "Just give up, man," Vigilante said, trying to appease him. "I will fuck you up. Walk away with your life."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm not falling for that shit," Attacker #1 said, picking up a nearby discarded bottle, smashing it against the brick wall and holding it out in front of him.
Haphazardly, Attacker #1 swiped towards Adrian's neck. He managed to dodge out of the way and grab a nearby trash can lid to use it as a shield. Hitting the metal lid over the attacker's head, Adrian bashed and bashed until he was sure the guy was brain dead. #1's head was a bloody mess, and his brain was splattered against the lid. Grey matter spooled out of the indent in his head, mixing the brain juice with the dirty water of the puddle below his body.
Casually, Adrian skipped over and picked up his hat, bringing out his phone in the process. He called Harcourt, "Oak Street Alley has two dead mobsters. Gonna need a cleanup."
Wait, Attacker #2 wasn't dead. He held the phone in between his ear and shoulder so he could pick up the broken bottle and slice it across the unconscious guy's throat, the blood dripping down his fingers. Now he was dead.
Sitting down in the comfy white seats (he, for sure, was dripping blood all over them), he glanced up at the other passengers. Loman was in the front with the driver. And sat in the back with him? Was that Y/N?
Seconds before realising it was her mother, he mumbled, "Hey, baby," before she jabbed him in the neck with a syringe, causing his head to slump onto her shoulder. That may be awkward when he wakes up.
29. Here Comes The Boom
Waking up with one hand cuffed to a lavish bed, Y/N rubbed the dull pain in her head. She didn't remember how she got here. Wherever here was. Focusing more on her surroundings, she realised that she did recognise it. She had been here before. A long time ago. They were in Gotham.
Looking down, she saw that she had been stripped to her underwear. They had checked her for a wire or external trackers. They didn't find the nanobomb in her neck.
"My baby girl," a voice said. The voice was abrupt and almost made her jump out of her skin. Her eyes darted to the figure standing by the door. A woman. Her mother.
"Mother," she said, her voice raspy. She was still groggy from being sedated. "Come to shoot me?"
"No," Laura replied, making her way towards her daughter.
With a sigh, Y/N realised she was handcuffed to a bed. Wanting to annoy Laura, she joked, "Strange. Usually, Adrian is the one in handcuffs."
Ignoring what was being said, Laura sat next to her daughter. Travelling had caused her hair to become a mess. It was dishevelled and wild, falling around her face. Laura reached for a brush on the bedside table and gently brushed her hair until it looked perfect. Y/N let this happen.
Even when she was young, David had always been the one to look after her. He would get her ready for school. He would make her look presentable. He would be the one who brushed her hair. "Where's dad?"
Implying that David and Lawrence were somehow equal in parental importance in Y/N's mind was blasphemy, but Laura teasingly asked, "Which one?"
"David," she said, as if it was a fact, "My only true parent," and it was.
Laura frowned. "I guess that's true." She took a while to format how she was going to phrase her next sentence. It needed to be correct. "You know, when you were young, you would cry if you were left in the room with me. It's like you knew. That my entire essence is a lie."
"I... knew?" Y/N said, her brows knitting together. She remembered. She remembered crying a lot when she was little. "I was a kid. I didn't know shit."
"I love you," Laura admitted. "But I love myself more. And I love money more than that." The words landed like a physical blow. Y/N was unsure of how to take that. It was confusing. It was also something she had never heard her mother say to her before. Love was never a feeling that she thought their relationship consisted of.
"I can't be a good mother, Y/N," Laura continued. Y/N's expected to see regret in her mother's eyes. She expected to see shame. She didn't. "I'm not good at being a good woman."
The door was knocked on. "Come in," Laura called out. The door opened inwards, showing a man who was tall, muscular, and tan, carrying an unconscious and bloodied Adrian. "Vigilante here is a little under the weather and will need a nurse when he wakes up. You've patched him up before, so you can do it again."
Pulling against the handcuffs in an attempt to rush to him, Y/N struggled against her shackles as the man placed Adrian on the bed. Forcing her daughter back down on the bed, Laura continued, "There's a first aid kit. I will get it for you if you promise not to attack me."
"I don't give a shit about you, so yeah, why would I bother?" Y/N retorted, looking over to assess Adrian's breathing. He was still alive. That was worth something. "Why would I bother attacking?"
"Because you're my daughter," Laura said, "And I would attack me." A coldness overtook the pit of Y/N's stomach. She hated this. David had taught her to be kind, but she had always had a deep-seated feeling of anger that always threatened to pop out. Pushing down all of her feelings for all these years was dangerous. It was about to reach its boiling point.
Not yet.
Relaxing and forcing a smile, she confirmed, "I promise I won't attack you."
The handcuffs were undone, and a first aid kit was provided. Her mother and the other guy left them alone. Adrian moaned and groaned as he started to wake. Y/N knelt on his side of the bed and took his face in her hands. He could feel her presence.
"Hey." She greeted him, grateful yet disappointed that he was in front of her. She did this to increase his safety. Now he was in the viper pit with her.
Opening his eyes, Adrian found her face. "Hi."
Instantly, she gently caressed his bloody temple and kissed him. It took a second for him to respond, but when he did, it was strong. He kissed her back hard and fast.
Guilty. That's how she felt when she looked at him. Lawrence's men had done this to him. She was sure of it. It made her hate them even more.
Adrian lifted his head and asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"
That was a good question. The answer was so simple to her. She revealed her motivations as she cleaned up his head wound, "You would have stopped me."
"I would have tried," Adrian reassured her. "But I'm not sure if I could persuade you not to. I'm not great at arguments."
"Me neither," she admitted. "I guess we'll figure it out as we go along, huh?"
Helping him sit up, she scanned for any more injuries. Other than his lip, most of the blood on him seemed to be someone else's, which was normal. She was used to that.
The wardrobe to their left had clothes in it, so she changed him out of his gross, crimson-stained work uniform into a fresh outfit. The sedative they had given him was still lingering in his legs, so he couldn't move them.
"I know what you're going to say," Adrian whispered as she pulled his trousers down, his eyes trained on hers. "I can't help it."
"I'm not surprised that you're hard right now," she stated. "Don't pretend that I would be."
He really couldn't help it. No matter how hard he tried. He knew the situation they were in wasn't ideal. But she was in her panties and bra, patching him up and currently undressing him. She had done that so many times and it usually ended with them fucking. It was too much to ignore. Plus, the way she was so soft when it came to wiping away the blood melted his heart into a puddle. It always did.
Laura had locked the door on the other side when she left. It would help them let off some steam as they planned a way to get home. And they could die at any minute. Why not? Leaning over him, she kissed along his jawline and whispered, "I love you."
Instinctively, he repeated it back to her as his hands found themselves on her waist and his head rolled back when her hand went into his underwear. She smiled at his reaction and laughed. She found him so easy to satisfy.
Flipping them over since he had regained feeling and wanted to show it off, Adrian yelped in pain. So she reached up to cradle his cheek and informed him, "We don't have to do this. If you don't-"
He cut her off by smashing their lips together once more. If anything, the pain was adding to his horniness. Pressing his hand to her breast, he kissed her again and again. Not stopping, not wanting to. It was a long time before he pulled away.
"Okay," he agreed, "We don't have to. But I really want to." As soon as she also agreed, it was his turn to reach into her underwear. He was slow to start and then got faster as she moaned louder, so loud that the mobsters could definitely hear them.
When she came on his fingers, he licked his digits clean, then removed their remaining clothes. He groaned as he slowly entered her with his cock, savouring each moment. Each sound. Each change in her face. He took his time to pump deep into her and whispered, "I love you," in the crook of her neck over and over again.
It was so easy for him to say. It was so easy to love her. She was everything to him. And, obviously, she felt the exact same thing about him. It would be a bit awkward if she didn't.
Most of the people that he knew would call him stupid. But he knew what incoming danger felt like, and he wanted her to feel loved in what could be their final moments together.
Because she was worth dying for.
Yet, more importantly, she was worth living for too.
Adrian kept going, holding her hand and pushing it further into the pillow each time he thrust. She moved in sync with him, and they kept the pace steady. The peak of pleasure was so strong that they let it consume them. They weren't thinking about anything but the feeling of her and him together.
Panting, they both fell back on the bed and lay there. Y/N's hand was on his chest and his was on top of hers. There was a quiet contentment in the silence. When she lifted her head to look at him, he was smiling. It was the most bittersweet moment of their lives.
"What do you want to do?" She asked, "We could try to kill them. Or we could run like hell and hope that we get out of the city."
"I'd say try to kill them," Adrian sighed, "But it could be suicidal."
"Suicidal?" She asked, her brow furrowing.
His hand moved to the back of her neck and he felt around to see if he could feel the bomb within. He couldn't. He explained, "If we try to take them out, we're going to get caught in the crossfire. Besides, I don't have any weapons."
Reaching out and squeezing his bicep, she jokingly flirted, "What are you talking about? You've got these guns right here."
"Stop flirting with me. We need to figure this out, and I can't do that if you keep doing this," he retorted, taking her hand off him. âYouâre very distracting and naked.â
Y/N seemed to think about it for a second and then nodded. This brainstorming would take a while, so she decided to use the en suite bathroom, wrapping a bathrobe around her body for warmth.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed some drain unblocker and nail varnish remover that they must've forgotten to take out. She had once written a book about a religious terrorist called 'Brother Blitz' and had done a substantial amount of research on bombs.
So much research that the police took her in for questioning at the time. Looking around both rooms, she saw multiple items that would work. She picked up the unblocker and the remover. When she returned, she said, "I think I know how to build a bomb."
"If we weren't already engaged, I would get down on one knee and ask you to marry me."
Chuckling, she walked back over to the bed and instructed, "Try it anyway."
He did as he was told, gently taking the ring off her finger and looking into her eyes. "Y/N."
"Adrian."
Getting on one knee on the bed, the sheets barely covering his naked form, he held out the ring and confidently asked, "Will you marry me?"
"No."
"I fucking knew you were going to do that," he pointed out, diving at her to kiss the smirk off her face. "I'm going to marry you so hard that you're going to wish you were divorced."
"What does that even mean?" Y/N quipped as she fell back on the bed.
Leaning over her, he mumbled, "Shut up," and once again went in for a snog.
Before falling asleep, they came up with a plan. It wasnât good. Or comprehensive. But it was the only one they had.
There was another hidden weapon they had in their arsenal. Well, rather in her neck. The first aid kit came with a little scalpel.
A gunshot rang out outside on the Gotham street. Typical. It was loud enough to wake Adrian. He quickly shot up and scanned the room for intruders. Easing him, she sat on the bed and brushed her thumb against his cheek, greeting, "Morning."
She tried to peck his cheek, but he moved so she would land on his lips. Before she could continue doing whatever it was she was doing, he reached for her waist and pulled her onto his lap. She knew what Adrian wanted. "Ade, no."
Kissing up her neck, he whined, "It's our morning tradition. And, hey, it won't be the thing that makes me late for work this time."
With a hand on each of his cheeks, she looked into his eyes and repeated, "No," then quickly pecked his lips and reached for the scalpel. He wouldn't want to do this, but it had to be done. Placing it in his hand, she ordered, "Cut the bomb out of me."
Crazy way to start a morning. He turned her around and brushed her hair out of the way. In a serious tone, he whispered, "This is going to hurt," and pressed his lips to the area before he dug the blade in.
At first, it was just a tingling sensation, but as he dug deeper, the pain intensified. She clutched the bedsheets and stuffed them in her mouth to muffle her whelps of pain. After a few agonising seconds, he pulled it out and she inhaled sharply before letting the gag fall.
Smiling, he kissed the side of her neck, getting some of her blood on his lips, and whispered, "Now, where do I put it?"
"The mug over there." She pointed to one on the table. He looked as if he was going to carelessly drop it, so she reminded him, "Carefully. It is a bomb, after all." That seemed to get through to him, since he took it slow, cautiously leaning his body as far away as he could in case it went off. It was in the mug. It had not blown them up.
Hurrying back to her, he patched up the cut on her neck using the first aid kit provided by her mother. He kissed the newly stitched-up gash and whispered, "You are the bomb, Y/N."
Adrian had a huge grin on his face at his little joke. She joined in but pointed out, "I guess I'm not anymore."
He placed his head on her shoulder and asked, "Now what?"
"Now, we wait for A.R.G.U.S. to think that I'm dead," she explains. The nanobomb tracked location and heart rate. "If we're lucky, Peacemaker will use Eagly to scout out the building. And, you can get the bird to take your name tag so they know you're alive and will still go through with the mission."
As she spoke, he trailed his fingers softly down her new injury, making sure he didn't hurt her further. She had patched him up so many times since she had found out he was a Vigilante, and he took it for granted. Watching as the person you loved most whilst they were in immense pain, which you inflicted on them to fix them up, was draining and so mentally fucked up for him. He had to blink the tears from his eyes as she cried pained yelps into the bedsheets.
"Chris puts a GoPro on Eagly now. So cool," he began, pretending he hadnât just gone through some emotional trauma. "Economos helped him with it. They'll be able to see whatever the bird sees."
That information could've been helpful. "Why didn't you mention that last night?"
He admitted, "I forgot. After-sex brain fog."
Eagly with a camera means that their plan can be much simpler. "What place on the body is the safest to cut but will produce a fair amount of blood?" She asked, reaching for the already crimson-covered scalpel.
"Why?" He asked back. That was an odd question. One that implied that she was planning on some light bloodletting, which he, of course, was dead against.
"We need something to write on the window with."
Strange that she went straight for blood. Alternatively, he suggested, "We could just scratch the message into the window."
"You're a genius," she complimented.
That would be less painful. She took the scalpel and tried to scratch their message into the window, but the sound was horrific. It was squeaky and high-pitched. It was the kind of sound you could feel in your teeth. She couldn't deal, so she made him do it. She sat on the bed with her hands over her ears.
Looking up, she realised he hadn't written it backwards. She had told him to. Hopefully, Adebayo or Economos would figure out to flip 00:91 moob around. They were smart people.
Time sent. Now it was time for the fire. Lawrence had been gracious enough to provide his alcoholic daughter with a whole bottle of whisky and two glasses.
Dumping the alcohol by the foot of the door and placing Adrian's bloody hat on top, the pair prayed that the sunlight bounced off the glasses enough to catch his hat on fire. Hey, they just wanted to cause as many inconveniences as possible.
While they were waiting, they saw a familiar eagle with a GoPro attached to its body surveying the area. From their window, they made funny faces at the camera, as if it were supermarket checkout CCTV instead of a surveillance mission.
Adrian brandished his apron, ready to strangle a bitch if needed, and waited by the door in case anyone came in. They had listened as mobsters had walked past and deduced that the room opposite theirs was the poker room, since throughout the night they had heard mumblings of money disputes, one guy was card counting, and many insults about how unflattering a guy named Mikey's so-called poker face was.
They had both considered the fact that Mikey may have been a Lady Gaga fan, but they dropped that idea pretty quickly.
Then it was on to carefully stuffing the contents of her makeshift bomb into the now empty whisky bottle, the ripped sleeve of her shirt serving as a wick. It was the only time in her life that she wished her shirt was made of polyester instead of cotton.
Solid hardwood. That's what the door was made out of. Adrian tried to kick it down, but it didn't work. But it was extremely flammable. When the sun finally hung in the right place in the sky, it started a small burning effect on the hat, which was greatly heightened by the alcohol, and the door quickly caught fire.
The room filled with the heavy smell of smoke, and the pair of them held parts of their ripped clothing against their mouths, waiting to see if anyone would come in to put it out. Despite being lavish, Lawrence hadn't installed fire alarms, so a ruckus only happened when a mobster yelled, "Something smells like it's burning, lads."
The pair watched the fire as they waited for a mobster to enter the room. Once one did, Adrian pulled him further in and choked him out, taking his gun from his belt in the process.
Another mobster quickly followed his friend and Y/N, who was now waiting by the door with a bomb bottle in her back pocket, gently placed the mug on the ground, brought her knee to his groin and brought the scalpel into his neck multiple times. If there was any time to unleash her rage, it would be now. Her victim's hands came up to his throat and soon were slick with blood. He must've been squeamish as he saw the ichor drip down his wrists. He passed out. This guy also had a gun.
Using the woollen bedsheets to slightly shield them as they walked through the fire, she picked up the mug and handed him the bottle. The sheets didn't really help much and just caught on fire themselves. Still, that was a +1 in the problem department, so they were fine with it.
Touching the bottle to the sheet fire to light the bomb, he perfectly threw it on top of the poker table, getting 8 guys in the blast. Nice. As they say in baseball, let's play that baseball. Placing his arm around her and quickly pushing her against the wall, Adrian managed to ensure they weren't hit by any oncoming debris, which was incredibly lucky.
Due to the huge boom, all enemies were aware of something going down now. The pair were unfamiliar with the layout of the house, so they rushed down towards the right. When the mobsters walked past their door to get to the poker room, they always came from the left, so going that way would ensure they faced more bad guys. Nobody had ever come from the right.
Running down the hallway, they came across a purple door and entered. It was the only one that was open. As soon as they were inside, she recognised the room and locked it behind them. And, more importantly, she recognised the giant squid that floated around in its huge tank.
Laura had a picture of this room with little Y/N in it. She walked up to the glass and inspected the animal. "Gertrude," she recalled, placing her palm on the glass.
When she was a little girl, she loved the giant aquarium and would sit in front of it for hours whenever they were in Gotham. How could she have forgotten that Gertrude was a squid rather than a woman?
An idea formed in her head. She took one of the fish that was going to be fed to Gertrude and methodically stuffed the nano bomb inside. Once, when she was sure it wouldn't fall out, she made it up the ladder and plopped the fish into the tank. Gertrude immediately ate it. When the clock struck 7pm, that squid would be in pieces. And â of Loman's loved ones would be dead.
He had no idea what the hell she was doing, but the determination on her face was enough for him. Their plan was loose to begin with. Well, it wasn't really a plan. It was just a collection of things that they could do.
Walking up to the tank, Adrian noticed a bunch of skeletons at the bottom of the tank. Loman fed his enemies to the squid; Adrian was sure of it. The Squid was more than just a codename: it was a threat.
Neither had noticed that there was another entrance to the room until a booming voice asked, "Hey, kid, why are you out of your room?"
The couple raised their guns at the man as she said, "Laurie, I just wanted to catch another glimpse of Gertrude. Missed the old gal."
Lawrence held his hands up and walked towards the glass. Instinctively, Gertrude swam closer to her owner as if she were waiting for her next meal. Hungry bitch, she had just been fed a fishy bomb.
Looking at his creature with such love, he declared, "She's a beaut," then paused to reminisce, "I remember the last time you saw her, kid. Johnny Nihax had stolen a shipment from me."
Johnny Nihax? That name rang a bell. She didn't know why she knew that name.
Continuing, Loman got closer to his daughter slowly and said, "I'm a reasonable guy, you see, so I gave him three chances. He blew them all. So one day, when you sat in front of the glass like you always used to, I brought this guy in and asked, 'Hey kid, have you fed Gertie yet?" And you said, in your sweet little voice, 'no, I was waiting for you.' "
She remembered Johnny Nihax. He was a weird guy who wore all black and seemed thirty feet tall to her at the time.
"And then what happened?" Adrian asked, trying to hide his anxiety. Finally looking away from Lawrence, she glanced at Adrian. She had gone pale and seemed as if she was shivering slightly.
Seeing it as if it happened yesterday, she watched as Johnny flailed around in the water before he went under. Seconds later, the entire tank gradually turned more and more red. Little Y/N watched in confusion, her head tilted to the left as she tried to understand what was going on. She knew it wasn't good.
"You sat there and stared the entire time Gertie was munching on ol' Johnny Boy," Loman said as he walked up to the location in question. "His screams for help didn't seem to faze you."
Making his way in front of her, he lowered her gun. She let him. She just stared with that same head tilt as she had done when she was younger. He continued, "It was at that moment that I was sure you were mine."
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Story Summary -> Adrian makes a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl, but hey, when doesnât he? Sheâs weird, funny, and treats him gently, which obviously makes him obsessed with her, and much to his surprise, she seems to like having him around too. Together, they try to carve out a peaceful life, yet her less than perfect family messes up their harmony.
Can their love survive alley fights, mob bosses, and a robotic eggman? It will be a tough ride, but theyâre prepared to give it a go.
Entire Story Tags -> Dungeons & Dragons References, Gun Violence, Idiots in Love, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Children, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Animal Attack, DC Comics References, Mutual Pining, Bisexual Christopher Smith | Peacemaker, Domestic Fluff, Organized Crime, Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Kidnapping, Mommy Issues, First Meetings, First Kiss, Autism, Long-Term Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Soulmates, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Autistic Adrian Chase, Blood and Violence, Substance issues, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Unplanned Pregnancy, Gotham City is Terrible, Hospitalization, Blood and Injury, Crimes & Criminals, Written Before S2
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Previous Chapter -> 16-20
21. Mr Right
Quickly helping him dress, she pulled his shirt over his head as he spoke to Harcourt over the phone.
"I don't give a shit if you're busy. Meet us at the base in twenty."
Adrian sighed and rubbed his hand apologetically along his girlfriend's bare thigh. "Will do," he replied dejectedly. He could barely remember the days when he would get excited about the prospects of a new mission. But now? Hanging out with Y/N is what got him excited. In more ways than one. In every way he could think of.
Hanging up, he looked down at her and confessed, "I would love to stay and fuck all night. Believe me. That's all I want." He paused. "But duty calls."
Tugging his boxers back up, she smooched his cheek and urged him, "Go do Batman's job for him. He's got nothing on you."
When he was fully dressed, he placed one final playful slap on her ass, and then he was out the door, ready for the new mission.
At the requested time, they were all at the rendezvous point. He was in his suit but decided not to put his visor on. They knew what he looked like. What was the point?
Chris was already inside; he watched as Adrian sauntered in. "Dude, what the fuck took you so long?"
"I was fucking," he said nonchalantly, shrugging as if it was a normal thing to admit.
Economos turned and looked over in shock. How the hell? How did a maniac like Vigilante have a healthy relationship and a sex life when he didn't? In disbelief, he dropped the box he was holding onto the table.
Harcourt wheeled in and looked at the men. "Are you dicks ready to go?"
"We're good to go," Chris said, a bit too quickly. He was the first to arrive. As soon as she called him, he was ready to go. He knew he was being too eager but couldn't suppress it.
Adebayo opened the door and addressed Emilia. "Right. We're all packed." She turned to Adrian, noticed his neck, and pointed out, "Is that a hickey?"
There was a light red love bite on the left side of his jaw, just under the bone. Neither of them realised that Y/N had put it there.
Peacemaker held out his fist for Vigilante to bump. "Nice, dude."
Instantly, Vigilante slapped his palm against his buddy's hand. He realised what he was supposed to do as soon as he did it. Well, shit, he can't take it back.
A.R.G.U.S. piled into the truck and set off for the airstrip. Gotham, here they come. While Leota was driving, Emilia and John explained what was going on.
Emilia spoke first, "As we all know, Gotham is a shithole."
"It's a real fucking shithole," John exclaimed, "And it's a goldmine for crime bosses. There has got to be, what, at least seven mafias vying for power currently?"
Nodding, Harcourt continued, "This guy," she pointed to the iPad on her lap, "The Squid."
The image was of a wide-set, 60-year-old man that Adrian thought looked quite familiar to him. He couldn't put his finger on why. Was it his cheekbones? Maybe his lips. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen this guy before, parts of this guy.
"Goes by Lawrence Loman. Not a nice guy," she states.
"Wait, is his name The Squid or Lawrence Loman?" Adrian asked.
"Both."
"It says 'The Squid' on his birth certificate? I doubt it. His parents must've-"
Chris butted in, "Vee, shut up." He looked to Emila to continue.
"He runs the fourth-biggest empire in Gotham, just after Black Mask. He's been around since the late 80s," she explained.
Adrian couldn't stop himself before he blurted out, "Shit, I wasn't even born then."
"Dude. Shut the fuck up, man," Chris argued. Adrian dragged his pointer and thumb across his lips to assure them he was going to be quiet. Whether he could follow through on that promise was another thing.
Harcourt rubbed her hand across her face in annoyance. She was always surprised at how big dumbasses they were. But, at least Chris was trying to help her. Maybe, just maybe, that was kind of, a little bit, cute to her.
Just a little.
John decided to take over. "He claimed last month that he was responsible for the deaths of the heroes Knight and Squire."
Adrian had heard of those two. Y/N had mentioned them before. Did she know they were dead? Probably not.
"We have no idea how far his reach is, but we know that he has connections in the UK, Mexico, and China and is incredibly prominent in Trinidad," John claims, scrolling through multiple images of Loman meeting with significant figures in each country. "He's the puppet master behind every single new Trinidadian Prime Minister. Has been for a while." "
Over the years, his company has been mass-producing this. "Emilia reaches down and swipes to show an image of a block of light pink-coloured ecstasy with a sticker on the outside. The symbol was a simple line drawing of a pair of feathery wings. After their talk about Oscar, Adrian Googled everything that his girlfriend had talked about so he could understand the situation more effectively. He recognised that drug and its symbol.
"Icarus," Vigilante pointed out. His co-workers whipped their heads to look at him. Even Adebayo took her eyes off the road to stare at him in shock. He had said something vaguely smart.
"That is correct," Harcourt confirmed. She narrowed her eyes slightly and surveyed him in a feeble attempt to work out how he knew that. He would never take the drug. That's not how he rolls. Had he shot people for possession of it? That's more likely.
Chris placed his hand on Adrian's shoulder and shook it encouragingly. "Nice one, man."
âEgg Fu was just a henchman for the big guy. "But he got vengeful and decided to fuck up his boss's plans," She continued. "The scientists he kidnapped were chemists who were tasked with the impossible job of making the drug safer."
Adebayo piped up, "Fewer deaths means more surviving addicts that will continue buying up their product."
Grim sentiment. Doesn't make it any less true.
Pulling into the airport, Adebayo turned around and exclaimed, "Time to fly."
Peacemaker was the first one out of the van, helping Emila carry her bags. She snatched them back. "What the fuck are you doing? I can carry my own damn bags."
Chris was unfazed. "Just trying to help." He held his hand out and looked at her expectantly. Harcourt handed her bags back to him and walked away.
Adrian saw and gave his buddy a thumbs up before messaging his girlfriend to update her.
đ§đ: about to board.
đ§đ: is it true that if you stay seated on an aeroplane toilet, it pulls your asshole out?
đđ»: I don't know. Try it out?
đđ»: I'm joking.
đđ»: Please don't.
đđ»: It's not true.
He chuckled and made his way onto the plane, slumping down next to John, who was breathing heavily. "Dude, are you dying?"
"Why did you have to sit next to me? You? Where's Leota? Fuck, I'd even take Chris," Economos shakenly said. After a while, he admitted, "I'm afraid of flying, jackass."
Resisting the urge to call his friend a pussy, he tried comforting John by declaring, "My girlfriend says that the toilet can't pull your guts out through your butthole. So, there's no need to be afraid of that, man."
For some strange reason, that calmed John slightly. He took a puff of his inhaler and relaxed into his seat. "Good to know." He soon fell asleep and, in doing so, was no longer afraid.
In the row in front, Emilia's head dropped onto Chris' shoulder. He could barely contain his excitement. To battle this, his whole body stiffened and his eyes went wide. Smacking Leota on the arm from across the aisle, he mouthed, "What do I do?"
Looking up from her phone, she whispered back, "Relax, buddy. Just soften up the shoulders and lean into it."
Lean into it? He could do it. Releasing the tension in his shoulders and placing his head on hers, Chris soon chilled out. When they had both fallen asleep, Leota took her phone out and snapped a quick photo. She would send it to the group chat in the morning. As a surprise.
Adrian spent the entire time texting his girl a play-by-play account of what was going on in the movie he was watching.
đ§đ: there is this awesome hitman who falls for this girl
đ§đ: seems pretty overdone to me
đđ»: Yeah, that's not realistic in the slightest. ;)
She always put a little emoticon when she was being sarcastic. It was very helpful for him.
đ§đ: she's not as pretty as you
đ§đ: i think he's cooler than meÂ
đđ»: Thatâs impossible.
đ§đ: he goes around with a clown nose on
đđ»: You're way cooler than that.
The conversation flowed like this for the rest of the flight. Even when they weren't in person, it was easy.
Once they were in Gotham, A.R.G.U.S. made their way to the nearest motel they could find. It was gross. It looked like something out of a low-budget horror movie. O'Shaughnessy's Cafe and Motel had been generous enough to provide rooms with two double bedrooms. John insisted that he should have one all by himself.
Chris forced Adrian to sleep on the floor. "I'm not sharing a bed with you, dude."
"Why?"
"Just because."
"Oh, come on!"
"No, seriously."
"Fine," Adrian said, rolling his eyes. He was tired and didn't want to fight. He settled down in the gap between the beds and looked at his lock screen before he fell asleep. He had changed it to a picture of them that her father had taken when they went mini-golfing.
He had just gotten his 3rd hole in one and turned around to face her whilst sticking his pinky and thumb out and wiggling them side to side. Without planning to, she was making the exact same gesture back at him. Both of their faces lit up when they realised.
22. 1984
Surveying a warehouse was the first part of their plan. A large shipment of Icarus had just arrived from Trinidad. It would be checked and shipped out to Mexico the following day. When it was all said and done, the group would be intercepting a substantial amount of highly addictive and illegal drugs.
Peacemaker had brought along his x-ray vision helmet but placed it on Leota's head. "For you."
He had also brought along his full-body force field helmet and placed it on Emilia's head. "And for you."
"Chris, I'm staying in the van because I can't walk properly. You should use this, "Harcourt responded. Her physical therapy had improved so much since their last mission, but she still needed a wheelchair. It was progress. She urged him to duck down so she could shove the helmet on his head. "Thank you, though "Â
Vigilante was offended. Those helmets were cool. "Where's mine, dude?"
"Wouldn't fit over your visor, dipshit."
Economos also felt left out. "What about me?"
"What about you, John? You stay in the van at all times. It would be a waste," Chris retorted. That is true. Harcourt snickered at his comment.
"You know what? Fuck you, Chris."
The reconnaissance team made their way closer to the warehouse. At the same time, a truck carrying the shipment they had been waiting for pulled up outside. They ducked behind a wall.
"Activate X-Ray Vision," Adebayo instructed. The truck was filled with bars and bars of ecstasy. "We've got a driver, a passenger, and one guy guarding the product in the back. All armed."
She moved her vision to the wall and counted how many gun-wielding mobsters were on the inside. "12 thugs. 4 in the entrance. 6 in the main hall. And..." She trailed off. The two left were in the bathroom doing something very explicit. She continued, "The other two are, uh, fucking in the bathroom."
"No fucking way!" Chris exclaimed. His voice was way too loud for a covert mission. To the left of them was a window that looked into the bathroom. It was the nearest room to where they were standing. Like a perv, Chris rushed over and propped it open.
Indeed, there was a guy going absolutely hard on another guy. The lovers barely had time to blink before they were shot in the head. Shot before they could even finish. It's unfortunate. Blowing the smoke off his silencer-equipped gun, Vigilante claimed, "I've always thought that going out during sex was, like, the best way to go." The mask ensured that the smoke barely moved.
Adebayo looked up at him with wonderment and pointed out to the van team, "Vigilante just shot the sodomisers."
Fact time. "Did you know that sodomy was illegal in Georgia until 1998?" Adrian said.
"How do you know this shit?"
"That's probably when his gay dad left," Chris jeered.
Actually, no. "I wanted to be a lawyer, you know, before all this happened." Vigilante hovered his hand up and down his side, gesturing to his uniform.
"You? A lawyer? You're way too stupid, dude."
Woah, that was a blast from the past for Adrian. "Yo, that's what my mom used to say too."
Looking at the guys he had just shot, he asked, "Do you think that they were in love? Or was it just animalistic buttfucking?"Â
"Could be both," Chris pointed out.
Making their way through the window, the trio waited behind the door and prepared to advance further inside, guns blazing. From the comms, they heard as Emilia instructed them to, "Wait. John just tapped into their walkie-talkie channel."
Inside the van, the pair listened as the mobsters joked around for a couple of minutes before addressing the leader so they could get down to business. They heard a female voice ask, "Is this all of it?"
The woman was from out of town. Definitely from a different country. And it was clear she was in charge. "One of them is a woman. She's the chief. We'll take her in for questioning," Harcourt explained.
Before she could stop herself, Adebayo unenthusiastically joked, "That's feminism right there."
Kicking the door down and instantly taking down three of the guys, Chris hurried to hide behind an already unpacked stack of Icarus. As soon as they realised, the mobsters shot at him, hitting the drugs he was ducked behind. The powder burst out of the packages.
Vigilante was next out of the door. Dual-wielding his pistols, he managed to exterminate two more, then appeared next to Peacemaker.
While Chris and Adrian were making a scene, Leota sneaked back through the window to go through the main entrance, taking out the driver and the passenger on her way.
"I don't think these guys like us," Vigilante joked as he threw a knife into a guy that was concealed behind a pillar. He managed to get him in the shoulder. The injured man pulled the blade out and gave Adrian the perfect line of sight to put a bullet right between his brows.
Peacemaker threw a tomahawk and got a guy in the neck. It was gory as hell. The blood squirted out of his cut and he fell to his knees, bleeding out on the floor. Real Red Wedding type of shit.
Crouching beside the delivery van, Adebayo waited for the guard to exit the van and tasered him. The electrode projectile landed on his Adam's apple. The guy passed out before he could make any big noise. Her position was still secure.
Vigilante and Peacemaker ran up to the remaining criminals and engaged in hand-to-hand combat, perfectly coordinating their attacks. By this point, both sides were out of bullets.
Adebayo rushed up to the woman and placed a black sack over her head, then bashed the helmet against her skull, knocking her unconscious before she could fight back. It wasn't fair. But who gives a shit?
The criminal that was fighting Vigilante managed to pick up a knife and throw it. Adrian dodged. It was now coming for Chris' head. At the last minute, Chris yelled, "Activate Full Body Force Field."
Peacemaker's body glowed brightly, and the knife flew into the air and lodged itself in Vigilante's back. "Oh fuck. Sorry, Vee."
Adrian pulled the knife out and used it to slash across the criminal's throat. He yelped in pain, "Ow, Peacemaker. What the fuck?"
Chris managed to kick the guy in the nuts and then bring his elbow down on his cranium, forcing them both down to the floor. The intensity of the head smash was enough to knock the guy out. Adding the way his skull was squished between the cool, hard concrete and Peacemaker's meaty arm meant that the guy was brain dead.
"Bitch, I said I was sorry."
They made their way over to Leota and the woman they were about to kidnap. Chris reported back, "Mission complete. We've got the hussy."
Adebayo started lecturing Chris about the appropriate way to refer to women. As they were arguing, Adrian noticed the woman's phone on the ground.
Picking it up and unlocking it, he saw a live feed that made his heart drop. Standing outside the house he had seen her mother slip off to, Y/N was idly chatting with Lawrence Loman as he leant against his car. They know each other. How the fuck? Secretly, he slipped the phone into one of the pockets on his belt.
The team didn't have to know this information yet.
Whispering to himself, "Baby, what the fuck?" he looked around the warehouse. At first glance, there was nothing connecting her to the crime scene. There had to be an explanation for this.
Reaching into his belt and pulling out a lighter, he set the drugs ablaze and walked back to the van without gazing behind him. As the phrase goes, cool guys don't look at explosions. If there was any evidence, it had been burnt to a cinder. Great cover-up.
"Shit, warn us before you try and burn the building down."
A.R.G.U.S. made their way back to Evergreen. Every time she awoke, Chris would knock the masked woman back unconscious. Her hands were tied behind her back, and her waist was tied to the seat.
"We can give her sedatives. Stop sucker punching her."
"Don't waste perfectly good sedatives," Vigilante argued.
Like usual, Adebayo patched Adrian up. She took a mental note that he was quieter than normal. He didn't complain once. If he opened his mouth, he would have to lie. He had been told too many times that he was shite at deceiving people. It would be better if he said nothing. They wouldn't be able to get any information from him, and therefore, Y/N was safer.
When it was his turn to drive, Adrian kept his eyes forward and didn't engage with his friends. He couldn't get his head straight and tapped his middle finger against his pointer. It was a feeble attempt at calming himself down. When his co-workers weren't looking, he pulled out the phone and looked at the live feed again. They were gone, and Loman's house was empty. The two of them were nowhere to be seen.
Sliding to the next feed, he saw the illuminated image of Y/N's house. All of the lights were on, and he could clearly see her through the window. She sat on the couch in her underwear and a tank top. This phone probably wasn't the only one that could tap into this stream.
He switched to his phone and warned her.
đ§đ: close your curtains and lock your doors
đ§đ: back one too
Confused, she did as he said. He saw on the live stream as she got up and pulled the drapes, scanning the surrounding area suspiciously. The silhouette of her body was still visible as she moved towards the front door.
đ§đ: what was that british reality show you said your dad liked?
đđ»: Big Brother.
Working it out in seconds, she quietly came to the conclusion, "I'm being watched."
Were they planning on kidnapping her for leverage? So many thoughts like that flickered through her mind. How likely was it that they had surveillance equipment inside her home? If they knew who she was, they must know the real identity of Vigilante, so he was in trouble too. How much trouble?
After taking a while to decide what she should do, she turned the radio on and scouted the house for microphones or webcams. None in her bedroom. Or the living room. Or the kitchen. Or the bathroom. The last room she checked was the spare room. It was clean of any kind of bugs, but as she looked under the bed, she found her underwear that Adrian had thrown down the day before. And a file.
Well, her mother must've accidentally left one behind. Strange, Laura had always been very careful with documentation before. So, she wanted her to find this. It was meant for her eyes. She sat on the bed and examined the paper. It had the word "Classified" stamped across the front. On the tab, in red block capitals, it read: CHASE ASSASSINATIONS
23. Shot. Stabbed. Decapitated.
The plastic bags were digging into her fingers. It was nothing major, just the familiar, dull ache of cheap plastic handles biting into skin after a long walk home from the shop.
Y/N shifted them to her other hand, headphones blasting some forgettable pop song and was half-mouthing the lyrics under her breath. It was one of those early autumn evenings where the air was damp but not cold enough to be uncomfortable. Everything smelt faintly of wet leaves and exhaust fumes.
Ordinary.
Forgettable.
Until it wasnât.
Turning the corner a few streets across from her own, she almost missed him at first. He was leaning against a car, casual, like he belonged there. A tall figure with that unmistakable aura of someone who carried himself like the world should move out of his way.
She blinked, recognition arriving a half-beat later. âMister Loman?â Y/N called out, confused but polite.
He looked up, and his face broke into that wolfish grin sheâd known since childhood. âHey, kid.â
She stopped walking and took her earbuds out, letting the wire hang and the music hiss faintly against her neck. It took a moment for her brain to catch up to what her eyes were seeing.
What the hell is he doing here? Evergreen wasnât his place. At least⊠she hadnât thought so. Heâd been the one to suggest she move here in the first place. But live here?
âI didnât know you lived here,â she said slowly.
Loman shrugged, leaning more comfortably against the hood of his car. The posture of a man whoâd been leaning against expensive cars his whole life. âYou know me,â he said, a sly smirk curling his mouth. âI live everywhere and I stââ
âAnd you stay nowhere.â Y/N cut him off, remembering the old line. âRight. You did say that once.â
âBright kid,â he said, pointing at her with a mock seriousness that made him look ten years younger. âI remember when you were a tot; you couldnât let me get away with a single thing. Always had to correct me. Drove your mother mad.â His grin sharpened, though his eyes were searching hers carefully. âHowâs Uncle Sam treating you?â
'Treating you'
'You.'
He never asked about her brothers the same way, never lingered on their lives. Just hers. Always hers. Sheâd tried to ignore the implications when she was younger. Tried to pretend there wasnât something unspoken there.
âYeah, Iâm doing good,â she said, plastering on a casual smile. âGot myself a house. A boyfriend. Thinking about getting a cat. So, yeah, pretty okay.â
Strange thing was, she actually felt fine talking to him. He could be terrifying, sure â he looked like a man who had ripped throats out with his bare hands - but sheâd grown up around him. Knew his laugh. Knew the soft way he sometimes spoke to her when no one else was around.
He was a contradiction in a leather jacket.
âI didnât think you liked animals,â he mused. âI distinctly remember you giving back the horse I got you.â
The memory of that awkward Christmas hit her. Sheâd been seven, staring at the ridiculous gift like it was a death sentence. Loman had gifted her a live animal - a large live animal - she hadnât wanted or asked for. Even as a kid, sheâd known better.
Kicking at the pavement with her shoe, she snorted, âCats are a little easier to care for than horses.â
He chuckled, nodding. âTrue enough. And this boyfriend of yours? He good for you?â
It was an innocent question on the surface. She thought about Adrian - sweet, ridiculous Adrian. Vigilante, of all people. He came home bleeding more often than not, ruined her towels with bloodstains that never came out no matter how much she scrubbed, and technically she was aiding and abetting a wanted criminal by just⊠loving him.
But still. He was hers. Her missing puzzle piece.
âHeâs sweet,â Y/N said simply.
âSweet.â Loman repeated the word like it was foreign to him. With a wink, he added, âIf he ever steps out of line, just call your olâ godfather. Iâll straighten him out.â
She rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. âWill do, Mister Loman.â
âFor the billionth time,â he sighed theatrically. âCall me Laurie.â
âRight. Will do, Laurie.â
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out, pressed it to his ear, and in an instant the easy grin vanished. His whole face went red as he shouted into the receiver, âAbsolute fucking idiots! Where is she now?â
She flinched at the sudden volume, shoulders hunching up, nose scrunching. It wasnât like she hadnât heard him blow up before - but not like this, not in the middle of a street, not with her standing there holding groceries. He caught her startled look and mouthed 'sorry' before turning away, voice still booming with fury.
âGot to take this,â he said, distracted, already pacing.
She gave him a thumbs-up, waved half-heartedly, and walked off. Strange.
Months in Evergreen, and sheâd never once run into him. Then, suddenly, there he was. He had arrived only a week or so after her mother, who'd been acting sketchy during that time.
Coincidences like that didnât sit right.
She tried not to think about it too much as she trudged home with her shopping.
Hours later, John pulled into the video shop and, without saying goodbye, Vigilante left. He needed answers. This was the only moment since they had met that he had been angry at her - truly angry - and it left a bad taste in his mouth.
Now he knew how she felt when he kept a secret from her.
Adrian didnât knock. Of course he didnât knock. He vaulted her back fence like some suburban ninja and tried to open the door. Locked. For the first time in her life, she had done as he asked and locked the back door.
So, he squeezed his bulky frame through her bedroom window like a raccoon in Kevlar. He even managed to break her lamp in the process.
By the time she heard the crash, he was already in her kitchen, pistol drawn, eyes wild. âViggy,â she greeted, sitting at the counter pouring a vodka and coke. âHow was Gotham, baby?â
He didnât lower the gun. âAre you drunk?â
âNot yet.â
Adrian snatched the glass away and poured what liquid was in there down the sink. âKeep it that way.â
She saw how tight his jaw was, how the knuckles of his gloves crinkled around the pistol grip. And because she was who she was, because humour was easier than fear, she reached out and tugged his hand so the barrel pressed gently to her forehead.
Her lips curled into a mischievous grin. âGonna shoot me, pookie?â
âDonât pookie me.â His voice cracked around the anger.
The safety was on - they both knew it.
To deny that the tension wasnât electric - or charged, or dangerous, or seriously hot - wouldâve been the lie of the century. She stared him down without flinching, and he didnât blink. For a second, they werenât Y/N and Adrian anymore.
They were Vigilante and someone about to commit public intoxication. Two people staring over the edge of a cliff, daring each other to jump.
He looked away as he asked, "Ever heard of Lawrence Loman?"
"Yep. He bought me a pony once," she joked. "Don't worry, I gave it back."
Finally, he broke first, pulling the gun away, holstering it, and dragging a hand down his face.
âFuck. Fuckity fuck. This is not good.â
The casual façade slipped from her instantly. Sheâd seen him manic, sad, ecstatic, and bleeding out, but never worried. Worry didnât fit him. He wasnât built for it.
Setting her own shit aside, she stepped forward, gripped his shoulders and forced him to meet her eyes. âTell me whatâs going on.â
And so he did. Piece by piece, stammering and going over the same stuff a few times, and swearing an inordinate amount. He told her about the phone. About the woman. About the surveillance feeds. About seeing her and her house through that strangerâs camera.
And she told him what she knew of Lawrence. Which wasnât enough. Which had never been enough.
When he pulled out the phone she recognised instantly, she froze.
âWhy do you have my motherâs phone?â
They both stared at it and did the maths at the same time.
âFuck,â she whispered, self-disgust curdling in her gut. She wanted to claw her own skin off. âIâm such a dumb cunt.â
âNo.â He pulled the mask off, shaking his head furiously, his hands cupping her face. âNo, thatâs not true.â
Her laugh was sharp and bitter. âShe said she wanted to fix things. Said she wanted to spend more time with me. Thatâs why they came out. And I believed her.â
Tears burnt hot at the corners of her eyes. Her voice cracked into a snarl. âI fucking believed her.â
Adrian thought, for a split second, that she looked like her mother in that moment. They had the same fury, the same sharpness. He swallowed it down. That thought could never leave his lips.
She tore herself away from his hold to snatch up the file sitting on the counter, waving it like evidence in a trial. âAnd she left this here. To what? Mess with you?â
He gently tugged it from Y/N's grip, slid his glasses into place, and scanned the cover. His face blanched. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again.
âWhat is this?â he whispered. His eyes brimmed red instantly.
âI think the titleâs self-explanatory.â
CHASE ASSASSINATIONS. It said what was on the tin.
âHave you looked inside?â
âNo.â She shook her head. âYour choice. Whatever you want.â
Did he want to know? Heâd spent years not knowing, burying it deep under jokes, under violence, under spandex. Did he want to exhume that grave?
Slowly, almost reluctantly, he nodded. âIâm going to⊠you know.â
Just before he opened the cover, he placed it down on the counter and wrapped her arms around his back so that she wouldn't have to see but could still comfort him. She rested her forehead between his shoulder blades, moving his sword out of the way so it wouldn't knock against her shoulder.
Y/N could tell that he was crying without seeing his face. She could feel and hear his shaky breathing. In an attempt to ease him as best she could, she rubbed her thumbs comfortingly against his stomach and occasionally pressed supportive kisses to his suit. She wasn't sure if he could feel them through the fabric, but it was worth a try.
The photographs were worse than anything heâd ever seen, and heâd seen plenty. His mother's head was half gone from a shotgun blast. His brother, carved into ribbons. His father, decapitated. His father's lover, riddled with stab wounds. Victor Zsasz was a cruel man. The bile rose in his throat and he had to grip the counter just to stay upright.
His voice cracked, half a sob, half a joke: âWell. Iâm not sleeping tonight.â
Y/N chuckled weakly against his back, squeezing him tighter.
âWoah,â he rasped, his throat raw. âYouâll crush me.â
She eased off, and he turned to face her. His face was blotched red, streaked with tears. He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm, but more came anyway.
âI canât stop,â he whispered, almost childlike.
âThatâs okay.â
âI donât feel like stopping.â
âThen donât.â
He collapsed into her, head buried against her collarbone, shoulders shaking. She stroked his hair, rubbed circles into his back, and kissed his temple.
âCome on, pookie. Letâs sit down.â
On the couch, he curled against her shoulder like it was the only solid thing in the world. She held his hand and traced shapes into his skin. Hours passed. Neither slept. The tears slowed, but the silence didnât ease.
Eventually, he sat up, eyes hollow, and flicked his lighter open. He burnt the file on her glass coffee table and watched the pages curl and blacken. He didnât want to talk. Didnât want to think. Just wanted one thing. Needed one thing.
Revenge.
Lawrence Loman was going to pay.
24. Mommie Dearest
When he was finally talking again, Adrian pulled his girlfriend onto his lap and reminded her, "No matter what happens, I love you." That was the first thing he had said in hours.
Hesitating, she wanted to confide in him something she had neglected to mention earlier. It wasn't out of any sort of malice. She didn't know if her assumption was true. Time to do some digging.
Reaching for her mother's phone, she searched her photo gallery. Strangely, the first thing she saw was an image that she had no idea had been taken. It was a full-body shot of Y/N and Adrian asleep on the sofa. When the hell did she take this? It was creepy. A little cute. Mostly creepy, though.
One in which she was around four years old and was standing in front of what appeared to be an aquarium, pointing up at a large purple squid. Laurie was holding her hand and, presumably, telling her squid facts. For example, giant squids have to be really careful while swallowing because if a given meal isnât broken down into small pieces first, it can rub against the brain and cause damage. Must've been something like that.
There was one containing little Y/N in Loman's arms, his face beaming down at her. It was too obvious. She didn't want to be correct. Finally, she admitted, "I think Loman may, uh, be my biological father."
He was quiet for a moment before speaking, "I know. I spend too much time staring at your lips to not recognise them."
David had imprinted his kind nature and funny, easy-going spirit on her. But there was no question that she shared facial similarities with Laura and Lawrence. It was easier to notice her mother's features; they were more prominent, more striking. He knew her face in so much detail that he was aware she looked nothing like David. She had Loman's lips. Nostrils. Cheekbones. Under-eye creases.
Shutting her eyes tightly, she realised she had to come to terms with this realisation. Her real father had killed his entire family.
Fuck that. No. The Squid wasn't her 'real' father. David was still her Pa. He had raised her. Patched her up when she fell. Got into arguments with narrow-minded teachers on her behalf. Genes can go fuck themselves.
"I understand if you want to... to, uh, not be with me anymore," She told him, not able to look into his eyes. "I get it. My old man," She unenthusiastically dragged her finger across her own throat and made a strange quacking noise to signify the brutal and bloody murder of his family, "Your home."
"My home is wherever you are."
Opening one eye cautiously, she finally made half-eye contact and let out a breath. Wanting to lighten the mood, she joked, "That's the cheesiest thing you've ever said."
His brows furrowed, he looked up at her and repeated, "No matter what happens."
There it was. The confirmation she needed. With a smile, she leant forward and slowly connected their lips. His hands came to rest on either side of her face and deepened it. After crying for so long, he was happy to feel something else again.
It was sweet. So sweet.
Realising that she had forgotten to say it back, she leaned back and reminded him, "I love you too."
He gave a short laugh. It was quiet and unlike anything she had ever heard from him. Rubbing his finger across her cheekbone, part of her face that resembled Loman, he went back in for another kiss, teasingly mumbling, "Good to know," against her lips.
Adebayo knocked on the front door. Harcourt had instructed her to find Vigilante and bring him back to the base. The prisoner was missing a phone, and Adrian had been exceptionally quiet. Hell, he had even left without pestering Peacemaker for twenty minutes. They knew something was up. It was unlike him to disappear without making a loud and annoying fuss.
Chris was busy dealing with the prisoner. John and Emilia had never met Vigilante's girlfriend before. It was obvious that's where he ran off to. So, Leota was the best and only option.
Climbing off his lap, Y/N opened the door a crack and peered through the little opening. Adebayo waved. She let his co-worker inside.
Leota thought she looked rough. Her hair was a mess. Face was blotched, so clearly she had been crying. The strap on her tank top had fallen down her shoulder. All of this points to the fact that Adrian was definitely here, and whatever he found out wasn't good.
Reaching out and sliding her strap back up to the correct place, Adebayo noted, "You smell like ethanol."
"Vodka."
"Yeah, that'll be it."
If she thought Y/N looked like a mess, she wasn't ready for what Vigilante looked like. His face was more red and puffy than hers. At some point, he must've bitten down on his lip hard enough to bust it open. He hadn't even bothered to put his glasses on; they were still stuffed away in the pouch on his belt. Four little crescent-shaped cuts lined his palms. He wasn't sure when he had taken his gloves off. They would've stopped him from doing that.
Resting his elbows on his knees, he barely acknowledged Leota as she walked in. "Fuck, Vig, are you okay?"
Weakly, he gave her a thumbs-up in response. It wasn't convincing in the slightest.
Shifting awkwardly, Leota looked between the pair of them. They were hiding something. Something big. Something personal. An idiot could see that. And Adebayo is not an idiot. Not in the slightest.
Standing up straight and regaining any composure she could muster, Y/N bluntly stated, "This woman you've captured, I know who she is."
Obviously, she has information to trade. Swap for what? That's a great question. A question she didnât know the answer to. Yet.
Thank God. The masked woman was tough to crack. A.R.G.U.S. had hoped for the perfect Scooby-Doo moment when they pulled off the mask and instantly knew who was behind the drug shipment. But they didn't. They had no idea who she was and she wasn't planning on telling them anything.
Adrian caught his girlfriend's eye, silently communicating with her about their plan moving forward, stood up and made his way to the back door. "Let's go. Can't keep Harcourt waiting."
He pulled out the phone and showed Adebayo the live feed of the front of the house. Going out the front was irresponsible.
Making it to her fence, they each got over without too much hassle and walked to the Vigilante-mobile. Opening the passenger door wide for his girl, he playfully declared, "After you, my lady."
Vigilanteâąïž was back.
Adebayo watched as she bowed and, in a fake posh voice, replied, "Thank you, dear sir."
They were a match made in heaven. Or hell. Pick one. If not, you could always meet in the middle with purgatory.
While he drove, Vigilante turned to Adebayo and asked, "Do you prefer Aguilera or Britney?"
"Britney
Taking the correct CD and placing it in the radio, Y/N agreed, "Of course, it's got to be Britney."
The couple needed to refocus their attention. They were going to figure this shit out. And they were going to do it together. They sang along to Ms Spears while dancing goofily, pushing down how internally messed up they felt and deciding to live in the moment.
This revenge would be fun. They would make sure of it.
Leota watched from the backseat. Five minutes ago, they were disillusioned wrecks and now it was as if they were driving to a concert or a birthday party. Weirdos.
Arriving at the video store and swaggering in, the trio made it inside to find John and Harcourt standing over a laptop. "Well, well, well. Look who's returned, "Emilia said, noticing the tagalong instantly. "Who the hell is this?"
Smiling and introducing herself brightly, "Hi. I'm Y/N L/N. Possible daughter of Lawrence Loman," She scanned the room. "Heard you have a prisoner?"
A.R.G.U.S looked at her in shock. Harcourt even pulled her gun out and aimed it towards the girl's head. Stepping into the line of fire, Adrian declared, "Oh, and she's my girlfriend."
"Yeah, I'm also Adrian's girlfriend."
John looked between the two of them. No way. "Bullshit. That is insane."
Confused, she asked, "Which part? The Loman part? Or this part?" She waggled her pointer finger at Adrian and herself.
Adebayo lowered Emilia's gun and explained, "Both."
In the backroom, Laura was about to wake up. She had learned to stay still and pretend to be knocked out because that would fool Chris. He wouldn't sucker punch her if he thought she was still unconscious.
Guessing that the prisoner was incapacitated, Chris strutted into the main room and exclaimed, "Y/N?" as soon as he saw her.
In the car, Leota had mentioned that Chris was in charge of hostage watch. The building wasn't that big. She deduced that her mother was probably being held in the room that Chris had just exited.
"Hey, Chris." She began walking in Peacemaker's direction, Adrian hot on her heels, and she asked, "Prisoner in here?"
"Yeah. Cuffed and gagged."
"Delightful." She made her way into the room and saw her mother. Nobody stopped her.
Laura's head was bruised and she had blood trailing down her nose. The black sack that once blindfolded her was tied around her mouth. She was manacled to the metal arms of the chair. Crouching in front of her, Y/N greeted her mockingly, "Hi, mommy. I know you're awake."
From the door where they all had squished themselves in, the team watched in shock. Now Chris knew what she meant when she said her mum was a bitch.
"That's your mother?"
"Your mother is Amanda Waller. Don't act all high and mighty, Adebayo," John commented.
"Fair point."
Standing up, she wiped her clothes off before saying, "Thanks for the kickboxing lessons," as she collided her fist with her mother's face. She put all of her strength into it. "Stick Icarus up your fat fucking ass, cunt."
Before she could swing again, Adrian held her back and dragged her out of the room as she yelled, "That's for Oscar, you insolent pig."
His co-workers got out of the way as he pulled his girl into the next room. They looked at him in astonishment. He was breaking up a fight. That was unusual.
"I thought you'd be cool."
"I thought I'd be too."
Adrian stopped restraining her as soon as she calmed down but kept his arms wrapped around her so she'd stay close to him. His hands found their way under the bottom of her top and gently caressed her sides as she apologised for her outburst.
Taking her time, she explained to Harcourt everything that she knew about her parents and their occupation. Adrian chimed in when he wanted to. Neither of them mentioned the file.
"As long as I can remember, Loman talked about a woman called Gertrude. If you want to play dirty, take her too. You'll have the three things he loves in your possession. That will really fuck him."
Chris was confused. He had missed the part where she had admitted to being Laurie's daughter. "Three?"
"Gertrude, my mother," She paused, "And me."
25. Poundtown
Scouting information on The Squid was proving to be a nightmare. Trying to find any concrete data on the elusive, heavily private life of Gertrude, the woman behind his empire, was like chasing smoke through a hall of mirrors. Frustrating didnât even begin to cover it.
Since Y/Nâs house was under surveillance and the mob knew Adrianâs address, they confined themselves to the hotel. She had chosen the fanciest one she could afford. Life was too short to skimp, and if she had to live out of a room with room service and velvet curtains, sheâd embrace it.
Light filtered softly through the hotel curtains, catching the dust motes in a way that made it look almost poetic, if you ignored the fact that the room was littered with takeout boxes and half-drunk coffee mugs. Y/N stretched languidly, groaning as she pressed her face into the curve of Adrianâs chest.
âMm⊠Donât move,â she mumbled, her voice muffled against his collarbone.
Adrian stirred, eyes half-open, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, âYouâre heavy,â before nuzzling into her hair. She rolled her eyes, which somehow only made him laugh - a sleepy, choked sound that warmed her heart more than she wanted to admit.
The morning unfolded in small, domestic ways. Adrian curled her hair with his fingers while she leaned against him. Y/N stole bites of his toast, leaving crumbs on the silk sheets with a reckless disregard for tidiness. They kissed. Often. There were often long, slow, drawn-out kisses, punctuated by quiet laughter or playful mock arguments about who hogged the blanket.
Laura remained under constant observation. A month had passed since they captured her, and Y/N had taken on part of the rota, slowly earning the trust of the security detail assigned to monitor the woman. She had to admit it was⊠oddly satisfying to be the one in control for once, to see her mother silenced and restricted.
Tapping her foot against the floor one morning, Y/N leaned forward in her chair and said, âYou know, I think this might be the longest time weâve ever spent together.â
She paused, adding in a voice almost conspiratorial, âItâs been nice. Mostly because you canât talk back. But still, thank you.â
Laura muffled something behind her gag - just enough for the inflection to show that it had been a snide remark. Y/N pretended not to notice.
âI mean, really. I canât complain, can I? All this free time. Itâs what you came over to do, right? Spend time with your kid?â
From the door, Chris cleared his throat.
Heâd been leaning against the frame the whole time, listening in, arms crossed over his chest. He pushed himself upright, voice gentle in a way people rarely gave him credit for. âHey. I can take over if you want.â
Her watch was nearly done anyway.
Nodding, Y/N stood, brushing invisible dust from her jeans. As she passed him, she gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder and muttered, âFeel free to sucker punch her again if you want.â
âEmilia said Iâm not allowed to do that anymore,â he replied with a shrug. âApparently, it might give her brain damage.â
âShame,â Y/N muttered as she slipped past him.
She crossed town the long way, taking care to use the proper crosswalk this time. The streets of Fennel Fields bustled with their usual mid-morning rhythm: couples sipping overpriced coffee, old men smoking cigars, and students pretending to study in bookshop windows.
Inside the restaurant, she slid into her usual booth. The seat was cracked leather, the table sticky no matter how often someone wiped it down, but it was hers. Adrian soon appeared, eyes lighting up when he saw her.
âNeed a fill, maâam?â He asked in his most fake-professional tone, setting the glass down with a flourish and pouring like it was vintage wine.
Leaning on her hand, she looked up at him, flirtation dripping from every word. âHey, handsome. You come here often?â
He smirked, slid into the booth beside her, and nudged her hip with his. âWow. Workplace harassment. I will not stand for this.â
Before she could fire back, he glanced around, checked that no one was watching, and sneaked his hand onto her thigh. The other arm draped over the back of the booth, fingers twirling a strand of her hair. He always did that when he was bored at workâlike touching her could short-circuit the monotony.
âYou look very cute today,â she said softly, fixing his glasses.
Adrian blushed, mentally scolding himself for letting his hand wander at work. He was trying to be responsible, but God, she was so pretty and he was so bored andâŠ
âPhilip incoming,â Y/N warned under her breath.
Adrian snatched his hand away as Phil approached, pen and pad at the ready. He ignored Adrian completely and addressed Y/N. âWhat can I get you?â
She gave her order, then turned to Adrian. âWant anything? For your break?â
âYeah, Iâll take a Coke and a cannoli. Thanks, Phil.â
If only high school-aged Adrian Chase could see the mighty Philip Louchner now. Phil was taking his order while he sat next to his totally awesome girlfriend. Damn, if young Adrian could see his future self, he would most likely ask, 'Dude, where's Gut?' and current-day Adrian would skip straight past that. But the second thing definitely would be, 'Who is that total babe?'
Y/N arched a brow. When Phil walked away, she leaned closer, voice honey-sweet. âWhy were you late?â
Adrian leaned in, dropped his voice low, and deadpanned, âOh, I have this super hot girlfriend, and she tends not to let me out of bed without absolutely fucking the shit out of me.â
She blinked, then smiled with feigned innocence. âShe sounds like fun.â
He chuckled, stole a quick kiss to the crown of her head, and scrambled back to work before his manager spotted him slacking.
The end of her book loomed like a storm cloud.
Her publicist had been on her ass for weeks, demanding updates, chapters, and a conclusion. But every time Y/N sat at her laptop, she froze. The words stuck like thorns in her throat.
She wanted a happy ending. She wanted the ending that she had always dreamt of. So why couldn't she put pen to paper and explain herself? Well, simply because her happy ending hadn't happened yet.
And neither had Adrian's.
It was her job to make sure he got it.
And she knew exactly what he wanted.
Given their current circumstances, the mob could incapacitate either of them at any moment. So, why not?
When Phil brought her food, she rose from the booth, purse in hand, and told him that she would be âBack in ten.â
She strode through the shopping district until she found the right shop and didnât even hesitate. One look, one instinct, one wild gamble at his size, and it was hers. She didnât even unwrap it on the way back, just tucked it into her bag and tried to look casual as she returned to the restaurant.
When she slid back into the booth, she acted like nothing had happened. Then Y/N ate her food slowly, nibbling with faux nonchalance, while excitement thrummed under her skin like a drumbeat.
Adrianâs break finally rolled around, and the second he was free from table duty, he sauntered over with a smug grin and a cannoli in one hand and a Coke in the other. He plopped down beside her in the booth.
âMan, this is the highlight of my shift,â he said with all the seriousness of someone announcing their wedding vows. âMe, my girl, and this cannoli. Perfect triangle of happiness.â
Y/N leaned back, watching him with a softness she could feel behind her ribs, an ache that made her want to reach out and touch him, claim him. The man was a mess - an adorkable, violent, sexy mess - but he was hers. He was completely, inexplicably, hers.
And that was why she did it.
He was halfway through his cannoli, powdered sugar dusting his fingertips and the corner of his mouth, when Y/N caught his hand. He was so busy licking cream from his thumb that at first, he didnât even register what she was doing.
She turned his palm over and studied it like it was a sacred text. Every scar, every vein, every little quirk of bone beneath skin. Then, with deliberate calm, she slid a silver band onto his left ring finger.
Adrian blinked. He froze, looked down at his hand, looked at the ring, looked at her, then back at the ring. His eyebrows knitted together in that bewildered, puppyish way that always made her want to kiss him until he stopped looking so damn confused.
âWhat⊠what is this?â He managed to speak with his mouth half-open, while the cannoli lay abandoned on the table.
âItâs a ring."
âUh.â
âUh?â she echoed, smiling.
"I can see itâs a ring,â he sputtered, holding his hand up and turning it back and forth, as though maybe the light would reveal some hidden inscription explaining the situation. âBut⊠but whyâs it on my-â
His voice cracked and he swallowed harshly. âWhyâs it on that finger?â
âTake a guess, Chase.â To further point out what she was hinting at, she asked, "Do you still keep the ring that you are planning to give to me in your bag?"
He stared at her, lips parting and closing again like he was rebooting. âIs⊠is thisâare youâwait, wait, are you proposing to me right now?â
"If you go and get the other ring, we can make it official," she suggested, giving him her best pout.
He was shaking now, eyes wide, and he squealed - it was high-pitched and absolutely not manly, though heâd deny he'd ever done it later - then he bolted. Adrian looked like a man about to run into traffic, and he scrambled out of the booth. He disappeared into the back, returned a minute later with the battered backpack he always carried, and rummaged frantically until he produced the tiny red velvet box.
Holding her hand out, she gestured for him to put the ring on her. He hesitated before putting the ring on her finger, as if she might reveal hidden cameras and Ashton Kutcher would suddenly appear from the kitchen to berate him.
And just like that, it was right. It felt so right that it made her chest ache. Her smile stretched so wide it almost hurt. She turned her hand this way and that, admiring the way the ring caught the light.
So did he. He sat up straighter, eyes flicking to her hand where the delicate silver band gleamed. His lips parted and he reached out, thumb brushing her fingers.
Fuckin' finally!
"It was my mother's," he told her, then joked, "Don't worry, she took it off long before she was brutally murdered."
âRomantic."
Before she could say another word, he leaned across the table and kissed her. Hard. There was no hesitation, no care for the fact that they were in public, just raw, unfiltered joy.
He cupped her face with both hands and kissed her so hard it knocked the breath out of her. It wasnât their usual careful, half-public peck; it was desperate, messy, and alive. She melted into it, tasting sugar, Coke, and pure Adrian.
As they broke apart, he asked, "What about taking it one step at a time like you said?"
"We can take big steps." She refrained from adding, 'because we might not have much time left.'
Finally taking a moment to inspect his ring, he noticed how there was a blue strip going across the middle. Like his suit. It was an auspicious find on her behalf.
It was fate; he was sure of it.
"So, where are you taking me on our honeymoon?"
"We just got engaged. You've gotta take it one step at a time," he cheekily replied. That little bastard. She loved him.
âIâve heard about this place,â he added with mock-seriousness, hand drifting back to her thigh. âYouâre gonna be gagging to go. Itâs called Poundtown.â
Failing to hold in her giggle, she began leaning in closer and seductively responded, "Well, I wouldn't call it little.â She looked him directly in the eyes and asked, âWhich do you prefer, pookie or thimble?"
"You're killing me." In pure horniness, his hand squeezed her thigh. Then, he slowly warned, âStop. Iâm not jacking off in the bathroom today.â
She laughed harder and teased, "Interesting. So, you want to wait until the honeymoon to go to Poundtown? That's a wonderful idea; very traditional. They do say abstinence can make a relationship stronger."
There was no way in hell that he would ever abstain for that long. That would be torture.
By the end of his break, he was a blushing mess. He was the happiest blushing mess. He couldn't stop grinning.
It was unfortunate that she had to leave early to hop on a business Zoom. The connection in Fennel Fields wasn't strong enough to support video calls.
Even just mentally calling him brought her immense joy.
The scent of lavender-scented bubbles filled the room, her phone was set to âDo Not Disturbâ, and the world outside could rot in its own chaos for all she cared.
Then the bathroom door creaked. She stiffened, hand tightening around the edge of the tub.
âHowâs the bubbles?â
âHolyâshit!â she yelped, sending a wave of bubbles and water toward Adrian as he stood in the doorway. Her fists clutched her chest as she scrambled to sit upright.
Before she could react further, he kicked off his shoes and vaulted into the bath. Fully clothed. Bubbles exploded everywhere, water sloshing over the edge in a small tsunami.
âAdrian!â she shrieked again, clinging to the side of the tub for balance. Her hair was plastered to her face, water dripping into her eyes, but she couldnât stop laughing at her idiot.
And then he attacked her with kisses, light and teasing at first, playful nips at her jaw, ticklish pecks that made her wriggle and shriek. She tried to retaliate with a splash of water, which only made him laugh louder.
Somehow, between the giggles and water splashes, it all turned tender. His lips softened, his fingertips tracing the curve of her shoulders through the water, and his fingers brushing hers with the lightest, almost-too-sweet touch. It was just them, the warm water, his drenched work clothes, and the bubbles clinging to skin like a private little world.
The water sloshed around them as he undressed. Every little motion - every splash, every snort of laughter, every soft kiss - felt like it stitched them closer together. The day, the chaos, the danger: none of it mattered right now.
All that mattered was how he was going to take her to Poundtown in a hotel bathtub.
Next Chapter -> 26-30
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