Expect some masterlist updates later today! Somehow I’ve written enough DC I think Adrian has to have a separate masterlist because it won’t let me add anymore links 😂
Summary: Set in the “You Hit Me With Lightning” universe, these are a collection of one shots that take place before, during and after the series with each part marked accordingly. Some of them can probably stand alone from the series but definitely work better when you read the other parts! This series is more flexible and will have parts as I have inspiration for them, a lot of the chapters will also more than likely be closer to drabbles! Also! Feel free to suggest prompts or make requests for this series! I’d love to fill in the gaps of scenarios y’all want to see!
A/N: Thank you @vigilantexreader for the read through!!
Oneshot #5: Chef
Masterlist, YHMWL Chapter 1
Surprises with Adrian could go one of two ways.
One, they were actually sweet and well thought out, or two, they were a nightmare.
He kept her on her toes; disaster could occur at any given time.
She knew by the way he was acting, dodging her texts with vague activities, not stopping by after work, and talking to Kiera behind her back. There was something he was up to.
Luckily, since it was Adrian, she didn’t have to wait too long for him to give it away.
The first thing that hit her was the smell as she walked into the apartment.
The second was the fact that the kitchen light was on, and said smell seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Not where Adrian would put take out for them if that was the surprise.
No, Adrian was standing in the kitchen, in one of her aprons, a mess surrounding him, and his lovely wide green eyes locked in on her as if she was catching him committing a crime.
Which all of this crazy in her kitchen was.
“You’re back earlier than I thought you’d be?” he squeaked out, raising his tone near the end making it seem like a question.
“It’s eight on a Wednesday, if anything I’m later than I should be. What are you doing?” she said, setting her bag down as she walked around the kitchen, observing the chaos closer.
“I’m doing great, how are you?” he tried.
“No, Ade. What are you doing - not how are you doing,” she insisted, and he sighed, eyes suddenly more interested in the floor than her.
“I’m cooking you dinner,” he mumbled, and she couldn’t help but laugh. It came out sharper and meaner than she meant it to, and Adrian’s eyes snapped to hers filled with hurt. “I am! I took a class and everything! Look!” he cried, moving to open the oven. Sure enough, there was a lovely looking chicken atop some (un)evenly cut vegetables.
“What the fuck, where did you buy that?” she said, looking at him and he furrowed his brows.
“The grocery store? Are you feeling okay, babe?” he said, moving to press a hand on her forehead, and she rolled her eyes.
“You’re telling me you cut, seasoned, and spatchcocked a chicken all by yourself?” she repeated.
“Yes! I did and I just need like 15 minutes and we can eat!” he said, clearly deciding to ignore her negativity as he lovingly bumped her out of the way and closed the oven. “Go change, let me serve the food, please.”
She watched with a dumbfounded expression as Adrian continued to move through her kitchen with a strange confidence. She had watched the man burn one of those mac n cheese cups after he forgot to add the water, and here he was roasting a whole chicken and vegetable spread like it was just another ordinary day.
Despite feeling like she’d woken up in another dimension, she moved slowly out of the kitchen and to their room. She changed out of her work clothes into an old ratty t-shirt and Adrian’s boxers that he never wore and really only had for her to wear around the house.
She moved back to the kitchen, eyes locked on Adrian’s movement as he focused on the food and his plating with more intention than she had ever seen from him. It was once he was moving the plates to where they usually eat dinner that she finally caught his eyes. His smile did not quite reach his eyes as they bounced around from her to the plate. He shuffled ever so slightly as he paused.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, sounding almost small.
“Yeah,” she said, simply taking one of the plates from him, admiring. While some of the skin looked soggy, overall, the chicken looked really good. “It looks good,” she said as they walked over to where they normally sat for dinner. Her eyes focused on the plate.
“It’s a roasted chicken with vegetables and I did use a packet for the gravy so I kind of cheated there. I also cheated because I just grabbed ice cream for dessert, I know you would normally actually make us something for dessert too but in the class I took-”
“Adrian, no this is…great. It’s just unexpected,” she said softly, cutting off his rambling as he watched her take the first bite of her food. She was pleasantly surprised. By no means was it the best roasted chicken she had ever had, but considering Adrian made it, she was extremely happy with it.
As she kept eating, Adrian seemed to relax more and more, finally digging into his own food.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve spatchocked a guy in real life,” Adrian said, mouth full of roasted vegetables as she started coughing. He immediately threw his utensils down and moved to rub her back, clear panic on his face as she reached for her water bottle.
“What the fuck?” she said between deep breaths.
“Yeah, like when I was at the class I realized that this butchering shit is easy, I do it all the time. The actual cooking was the hard part, but the knife skill I had on lock,” he said with a modest shrug and she smiled at him.
“Why are you taking cooking classes? Adrian, I never mind cooking for us,” she said. “Hell, I never mind when we order out either.”
She watched him closely. Adrian was never really good at hiding what he was feeling on his face - it was half the reason she was sure he had a mask for his Vigilante costume and not something similar to Chris. He looked almost bashful and nervous for her reaction; she hadn’t seen him so timid with her in such a long time. Sure, she gave him a hard time but now he normally would give her a knowing smile and play along with her, knowing that she loved him instead of becoming a nervous wreck.
Right now he was a nervous wreck.
“I just…you’re always taking care of me. I wanted to do something for you,” he said gently, eyes not meeting hers as she melted slightly.
“Oh Ade,” she said, and he shrugged, continuing to pick at his plate.
“I just never want you to feel like you have to do this for me, I can take care of you and us too,” he said finally looking up, still not at her, but enough that she knew he was watching for her reaction out of the corner of his eye.
“Adrian, I know that,” she said, her words probably sounding harsh to anyone who wasn’t Adrian. “I know that you can take care of me, and you do, like all the time!”
“But I don’t cook-”
“Adrian, I like cooking. I enjoy getting to cook specifically for you, it’s like…my love language. Making sure you’re fed is important to me, and if it’s my food, that’s even better. You know what you do for me? You drive me around town, you buy groceries, you wash my hair on days I feel too low, you order food when we have nothing to cook. You take care of me. You don’t have to learn to cook just to do it for me. Besides, if you really wanted to, we can just cook dinner together sometime,” she said, moving so she was able to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek, a grin growing on his face.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she repeated, pulling back in order to finish her plate. “Plus, I’m a little jealous you went to someone else to learn how to cook,” she joked, and Adrian’s eyes went wide behind his glasses.
“Don’t be jealous! Trust me, you’re a way better teacher and your food is way better. I just wanted something homey and hearty to make for us!”
“I know, Ade. I know,” she said, laughing as he finally loosened up and started eating.
“Do you think you could teach me how to make lobster rolls?” he asked, sitting up straight clearly excited at the prospect.
“It’s funny you think we have the income to play with lobster, absolutely not.”
synopsis: Adrian's secret solo mission turns into a team-up with someone unexpected. You'll forgive him for this. Hopefully.
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, omegaverse dynamics, alpha!Adrian, omega!reader, Adrian making dumbass decisions, mission fic, he wants to be a spy so bad
word count: 5.8k
notes: As long as everything goes to plan, only a couple chapters left!! Thank you for sticking it out if you've read this far <3 and thank you as always to @embeanwrites and @snowyathena for the beta
Masterlist | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen
Adrian parks outside the dark Checkmate office building and takes a deep breath, guilt and relief swirling inside him. He feels terrible for lying to you. Deceiving you. But goddamn if he isn’t buzzing underneath it all, now that he’s made the decision. Now that he’s not waiting any longer, but taking action.
Judomaster and Bordeaux won’t be back for three more days. Then Ads and Chris will want to do a week’s worth of recon, and then it will take even longer to take the information they learn and make a plan, and then—
He stops and exhales. No more fucking waiting. He’s going to handle it. Whatever he has to do.
But first—the Checkmate office. If he’s going to infiltrate a building full of enemies, all on his own without backup, he needs to be prepared.
He’s got a key to the building—they all do—so getting inside isn’t an issue. It’s not even that strange being here so late—there have been dozens of missions since the business started that left the whole team pulling all-nighters. He remembers, suddenly, a night where you fell asleep on his shoulder in the break room. Remembers how his heart had rabbited against the inside of his chest, his eyes gone wide, mouth agape as he stared at you. Marvelled at the fact that you liked him enough to be close to him, that you trusted him enough to sleep in his presence.
His heart flip-flops for the dozenth time that night when he thinks about you now, asleep at home, waiting for him to return. But he swallows down the guilt and makes a beeline for the infirmary through the dark hallway.
Usually you have a pre-packed med kit prepared just in case, sitting at the corner of the countertop, ready to grab and go for emergency situations. It’s not there. Someone else might have grabbed it on the way out the door for a mission recently. Adrian frowns. He’d wanted to be in and out of here quickly.
Everyone has been in and out in a rush over the last few weeks; he knows you’ve spent hours packing and repacking kits and monitoring supply levels. He’s watched you pack a kit enough times that he can do it himself, but he still checks the detailed log you have taped inside the cabinet to make sure he doesn’t forget anything. His heart twists at the sight of your handwriting, but he swallows down the lump in his throat and follows your instructions, hearing the echo of every word in your voice in his ears.
Once he’s done, Adrian heads for his own locker in the weapons room. When he opens it, he pauses again. There’s a picture of you both, tacked inside the door with a dumb Pokemon magnet you’d bought him. His eyes flick away from it quickly, like he’s trying to avoid your gaze, even though it’s just a photograph. But then his eyes drift back to you, like they always do.
Adrian stares at the picture for a long time, tracing the outline of your face with one finger. You’re smiling, laughing at whatever stupid shit he must have said, because he’s always saying stupid shit, but you love him anyway. He’s fucked up countless times since the day he met you, and you still trust him, still love him.
That’s why he has to do this, right? But looking at your face in that picture, with your bright eyes and wide smile, he hesitates. Is he doing the right thing? Should he just go home now and pretend he never had this stupid thought? Should he crawl into bed and tuck his face into your neck and—no. His resolve hardens. He has never, ever felt this way before about anyone, and he will never, ever feel this way about anyone else ever again. And he is going to do whatever it fucking takes to protect you, protect this special thing in his life from the people trying to take it away from him.
He finally tears his eyes away and starts refilling ammo and tucking weapons into his utility belt. Anything that can fit, he’s bringing with him. His katana, of course, and his favorite guns holstered at his waist belt, but—this one’s going to require the big guns. He doesn’t know quite what he’s walking into, so that means more firepower. He starts emptying the large weapons cabinet, shoving as many machine guns and grenades he can fit into a duffle bag, ninja stars and knives he can throw from a distance—
One of those knives flies out of his hand when he hears the floor creaking behind him. Someone yelps, and in the time it takes for Adrian to turn around and face his attacker, he’s already got another knife out, poised to throw with his deadly aim.
But then, crouched down on the floor, a knife sticking out of the wall several feet above her head, Emilia says, “Jesus fucking Christ Adrian, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Adrian exclaims. “Why the fuck would you sneak up on me when I’m armed to the teeth? What the fuck are you doing here, anyway? It’s like three in the morning!”
“I could ask you the same thing, Chase,” Emilia says, slowly rising to stand, and Adrian clears his throat.
“I was just on patrol,” he lies through his teeth. “I wanted to, um—”
“Looks to me like you’re packing,” Emilia says, and Adrian shuts up. “And I think I know why.”
It’s then he notices that Emilia has her own packed bag slung over her shoulder, and—is that the emergency med kit he had gone to grab out of your office? He looks down at his own med kit, the one he packed from your instructions, and then back at hers.
She notices Adrian noticing, and her face goes all weird. Adrian is not good at reading people, like, at all, but—he can feel it in the air, something awkward and a little bit wrong. He squints a little, looking at Harcourt’s face, the little frown she’s wearing, the way her eyes are darting over him a little quicker than usual. Suddenly, he realizes that he is not the only one looking like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been.
“Where are you going?” he asks, not quite accusing, but close.
Emilia hesitates, and the silence stretches between them for a moment.
“Chris told me,” Emilia says, “about the conversation you had earlier. How he told you to stick to the plan, and not do any rash or dangerous shit. He’s worried about you.”
Adrian tilts his head. “So you’re here to tell me to stick to the plan and not do any rash or dangerous shit?” he asks. “How did you even know I was here? Do you have like, secret cameras stashed around the office? Is there an alarm on the door that no one knows about? What’s—”
“No,” Emilia interrupts. “Just—shut up. I’m going to go with you. To Star City.”
Adrian’s heart leaps into his throat.
“Star City?” he says. “What—I wasn’t—”
“You’re a bad liar,” Emilia says. “How the fuck do you work black ops?”
“I’m not—”
“I assume that’s why you’re here, too,” she continues. “To go to Star City. To case the warehouse at the address that John gave us, if not kill all the people inside it. Am I right?”
“Wha—you—” Adrian stutters, trying to recover from the shock of Harcourt saying something so wildly out of character that he feels the urge to check if she’s been taken over by a butterfly.
“Adrian,” Emilia says, “shut the fuck up.”
That’s familiar, at least. Harcourt tells him to shut the fuck up all the time.
“Star City?” he repeats, still stunned.
“I’m done waiting around,” she says. “I can’t take this anymore. Three days is too long to wait for the others to get back. These fucking—” Emilia takes a deep breath, clearly trying to settle herself before she gets too worked up or angry. “These people used to be my coworkers at ARGUS. Fellow soldiers. I trusted them with my life, and now they are threatening my family. They have no fucking honor, or respect, and I am pissed. I am so unbelievably pissed, and I am going to do something about it.”
Adrian stares with wide eyes, almost amazed. He’s never seen Harcourt this…emotional? No, that’s usually a word when people are sad. She’s just fucking angry. Impatient, maybe? Either way, it throws him off. Normally, she’s one of the level-headed ones.
Or maybe she isn’t. Maybe she’s just as crazy and impulsive and furious as he is. Maybe she’s just better at hiding it.
“You’re going to do something about it,” he repeats.
“Stop repeating everything I say.”
“Sorry,” Adrian says, a reflex. He doesn’t mean it. He’s not sorry. His mind is still reeling. “What—what about Chris? Did you—”
“Tell him? No. And I’m assuming you didn’t tell your Omega either, or she would have handcuffed you and not let you out of her sight.”
“I wish she would handcuff me,” he mutters. That would be so fucking hot.
“You horny idiot. Did you tell her you were leaving?”
“I didn’t,” he admits, another wave of guilt washing over him. “I didn’t tell her.”
“Good,” Emilia says. “I don’t want anyone stopping us. Turn your phone off too. I know she’s got your location, because you’re a clingy bitch.”
“What the fuck is happening right now?”
“What’s happening is I’m agreeing with you, for once,” Emilia says. “Not sure what that says about my sanity. But we are going to go, and do the recon ourselves, and if we have the chance—” She nods at the knives in Adrian’s hands. “We’re going to kill as many of them as we can.”
The drive takes six hours. Adrian had wanted to drive, but Emilia snatched the keys right out of his hand without a word. She lets him mess with the radio, at least, not complaining about his fidgeting from the passenger seat like she normally would. She’s lost in her own thoughts, for once.
But Adrian can’t bear the silence.
“Why did you do it?” he asks.
“Do what?” Emilia asks, a little annoyed. Probably because he opened his mouth to talk. It’s odd, working with Harcourt like this. They’ve never gotten along great to begin with.
“You let her go on that mission with you,” Adrian says. “And you didn’t tell me. She didn’t tell me. Why did you do it?” Maybe he’s still harboring some bitterness about it. Seems like a good time to address it. She’d never talk it out like this if they weren’t trapped in the van together.
“Why am I doing this, Adrian?” she asks tiredly. “Why do I do anything? For the good of the pack.”
“But—”
“And she is more than capable of doing mission work,” Emilia continues pointedly. “In case you’ve forgotten, I am the one who has been training her, since the accident. We’ve been in the workout room, in the weapons room, multiple times a week. She has improved significantly. Yes, she got hurt once, but—I realized, after that, that keeping her behind in the office where she’s safe is doing a disservice to her. We will always want to protect her. We are Alphas, and she is an Omega. But she also deserves to protect herself, and if you would just pay attention, you would see how ready she is. You’re blinded by it, sometimes. This weird macho need to protect her. But if I overcame it, so can you.”
Adrian doesn’t have anything to say to that, but his mind is swirling. Maybe she’s right. Maybe he’s smothering you, the way he’s been acting. Maybe he’d feel better about it if he joined you in your training sessions, if he saw with his own eyes what you’re capable of.
It’s mostly silent, for the next few hours. They left at five in the morning. The first message comes in at eight.
Adrian disabled the tracking services on his phone—not that it will do much. You and the others aren’t stupid. You’ll be able to figure out exactly where he’s gone pretty quickly, especially when they realize that Emilia is gone, too. But he left the device on. He couldn’t bring himself to cut off his line of communication with you entirely.
His phone buzzes in his pants pocket, several times in a row. He pulls it out and winces. You’re calling him.
“I told you to turn it off,” Emilia says. The buzzing stops after a few moments when Adrian doesn’t pick up the phone.
“I disabled the tracking!” Adrian argues. “I didn’t—I can’t—what if she needs me? What if there’s an emergency, or—” He clenches his jaw as the phone starts buzzing again.
“It’s a distraction, Adrian,” Emilia says. “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it right. Turn it off.”
The buzzing stops again, but then the texts start rolling in.
Omega 💙: Did you come home last night?
Omega 💙: Adrian?
Omega 💙: I thought we were doing better after we fought why did you disappear on me?
Omega 💙: Did you disable your location????
Omega 💙: Here I am trying to check on you and make sure you didn’t fucking die in a dark alley on patrol last night
Omega 💙: Are you hurt??
Omega 💙: ANSWER THE PHONE
Omega 💙: Adrian I don’t care if you’re still upset about our fight let me know if you’re fucking ALIVE please
Omega 💙: Alpha please
Adrian’s chest grows tighter and tighter with every message that pops up on his screen. He should text you, at least. Let you know he’s okay.
“Leave it, Adrian,” Emilia tells him.
“I just need to let her know I’m okay,” he says to Emilia, and starts typing, but then—
Omega 💙: You son of a bitch
Omega 💙: I just talked to Chris and Emilia is gone too
Omega 💙: Where the FUCK are you I KNOW you’re together
Omega 💙: If you’re doing what I think you’re doing I am going to kick your fucking ass
Omega 💙: Please don’t do anything stupid
Omega 💙: Please come home
The phone starts ringing again, and it doesn’t stop. Nothing more than a split-second moment of silence before the vibrating starts anew.
“Don’t make me fucking take it from you and chuck it out the window,” Emilia says.
Adrian swallows roughly. “She’s freaking out.”
“Obviously,” Emilia says. “Did you think she wasn’t going to freak out?”
At that moment, another call pops up on his phone, not from you, but from Chris. He tilts the phone in Emilia’s direction, and her firm, stern expression falters for just a moment. If he’d blinked, he would have missed it. But then her jaw sets again, and she turns back to the road.
“Turn the phone off, Adrian,” she says, her voice a little shaky.
Your name pops up again, another incoming call. He stares at your profile photo for a long moment before he powers the phone down, trying to ignore the stab of guilt in his stomach.
“They aren’t stupid,” Emilia says. “They’ll figure out where we went. But let’s hope they aren’t dumb enough to follow us.”
Adrian glances down at his blank phone screen. He’d known this was going to happen. He’d imagined it as he packed his bags, as he got in the car, as Emilia started the van and took off out of the Checkmate parking lot. You waking up, realizing he’s gone, freaking the fuck out.
He would be doing the same, if it was you. If he woke up one morning and you were gone. He’d lose his fucking mind, call you over and over again, send the same exact barrage of texts. He’s doing the same thing to you right now that you did to him, when he got back from his mission with Chris and couldn’t find you, realized you were on your own mission with Emilia. Exactly what you promised to never do to him again, he’s doing to you now. The terror of not knowing, the anxious worry about your mate’s safety.
He wonders if you’ll ever forgive him for this.
“Stop moping,” Emilia says, drawing him out of his guilt-ridden stupor. “Get your head in the game, Adrian. We’re gonna be there in twenty minutes.”
“Are we doing the right thing?” His voice cracks a little when he asks.
“We’re doing what needs to be done.”
Adrian hums. “Are you sure?”
“Why the twenty questions?” Emilia turns away from the road to glance at him briefly. “It’s a little late for second thoughts. You were all hyped up about this when we got in the van.”
He had been. She’s right. It makes him feel a little better that he’s not doing this on his own. He’s not sure if it’s a selfish thankfulness that he won’t be alone on the receiving end of your anxious fury when he returns home, or a righteous pride that Emilia Harcourt agrees with him for once. But…
“Do you remember when you picked me up from jail?” Adrian asks after a moment. “The first time we met? Well. The first time we met when I was Adrian. Not Vigilante.”
“I do,” Emilia says carefully.
“I told you—I think I made everything worse, that day.” He swallows. “I did make everything worse. Am I doing it again? Am I making everything worse?”
Emilia sighs and looks back at the road. It’s not an annoyed sigh, or a pissed-off sigh, or any of the other familiar ways that Harcourt exhales air from her lungs when she’s frustrated with Adrian. It’s a new sound. A little tired, maybe thoughtful.
“You act without thinking, a lot,” she says. “A lot of times, that means you’re taking risks. Not considering all the ways things could go wrong. You act on instinct before logic.” She glances sideways at him again. “That’s a very Alpha trait. I don’t know if it’s impatience, or just the desire to protect the pack, and the people who we care about, but—I feel it too, right now.”
Adrian knows this about himself. That he’s impulsive, that even when he fucks up, he’s doing what he thinks is right. But his moral compass is all kinds of fucked up. It’s a little reassuring, if strange, to know that Harcourt is on the same page that he is.
“Besides,” she continues, slightly grim. “If there was ever a time for a risky play, this is it.”
Just a few minutes later, she pulls the van up and parks curbside outside a tiny diner. Adrian looks between her and the restaurant, confused.
“Come on,” she says. “We gotta fuel up before we go on a murdering spree. You’re buying.”
For the first time since he left you last night, the corner of his mouth quirks up into something resembling a smile.
“I’d be buying even if you were buying,” he comments. “Considering that my Vigilante blood money pays your salary—”
“Oh, would you shut the fuck up!”
Two and a half hours later, Adrian is fed, suited up, and arming himself in the back of the van, ready to drive over to the address John had found. It’s an abandoned warehouse, apparently. Not unlike the Glen Tai bottling company that the butterflies had taken over.
It’s weird doing it in the middle of the day. It was back then, too, attempting subterfuge in broad daylight, while there were clearly people at work inside the building. For so long, he was only Vigilante late at night, tackling the kind of criminals that only showed themselves under the cover of darkness.
“Should we wait?” he asks. “Until later tonight?”
“We could,” Emilia says. “But if we go in now, we’re less likely to trip an alarm. Their building is probably unlocked during the day, for agents to come and go.”
“True.” He hadn’t thought about that. “But, if we want to go through all their shit and find out what they’re up to, it will be easier to do that when nobody is there.”
“Well,” Emilia says, “what exactly was your plan? If you came without me?”
Adrian unzips the waist bag attached to his utility belt and shows her what’s inside.
“Is that a fanny pack full of grenades?” Emilia asks incredulously.
“Yeah,” Adrian says, like it’s obvious, laughing. “How else am I supposed to carry multiple grenades at once? I only have one grenade holster on my utility belt—”
“Okay, whatever, I—that’s not the point. You fucking psycho. Why the grenades?”
“To kill the bad guys,” Adrian says. “Duh. Are you feeling okay? I feel like that should be obvious.”
“We are covert black ops, we don’t blow shit up.”
“You don’t blow shit up,” Adrian counters. “I blow shit up all the time. Besides, the more bad guys I take out with a bomb, the less we have to fight off individually. It’s safer that way. Less aura points, but, ya know, what can you do.”
“What?” Emilia sputters.
“Like, it’s less cool,” Adrian explains. “Normally I would totally go in there guns blazing, but I kinda don’t want to get killed? I have an Omega to get home to, now.”
Emilia gapes at him. “You—” She pauses, looks at Adrian’s earnest expression, and sighs. “You really have changed, haven’t you.”
“Yeah.”
“Less aura points,” Emilia mutters under her breath. She shakes it off and asks, “Okay, Mr. Safety First, then what’s the plan?”
“Well, if we’re going in right now, while everyone’s in the building—I can sneak up onto the roof, crawl into the ceiling vents, and drop the bombs on them from above.”
“That’s a good way to get yourself killed. Those grenades are tiny, but they still pack a punch, and once the place is on fire, the smoke will drift upwards directly toward you. So that plan would be a no, no matter how much you want to feel like someone in a heist movie.”
“First you don’t let me have my chainsaw kill, and now this,” Adrian says accusingly. “You just don’t want me to be cooler than you!”
“I want you to not die,” Emilia says mildly. “Anyway. We’re not going right in for the kill—”
“What do you mean? Isn’t that like, the whole fucking point of us coming here by ourselves? To just end this and get it over with?”
“Yes, but in order to ensure our own safety, we need to do some recon first. Observe. We decided not to wait for the others, but that doesn’t mean we can get sloppy and cut corners or skip steps.”
Adrian sighs. “Fine. What do we do, then?”
Emilia’s mouth quirks up. “I think we can still use one part of your plan, at least.”
“The grenades? We can blow the doors open?”
“No,” she sighs. “The vents, you moron.”
Sneaking up onto the roof is more difficult than Adrian thought it would be.
He and Emilia canvas the street quickly and quietly, a super-fast driveby to help them scope out the surroundings before they make a move. The warehouse is in the middle of a random block.
They had been hoping to clamber their way up to the roof of a neighboring building and, as Adrian put it, “parkour our way over there,” but several of the other buildings around it have been demolished, probably for safety reasons. It’s way too far for them to jump.
The warehouse itself is in rough shape too, like it’s days away from a “CONDEMNED” notice being slapped on every door and window. The paint on the sides of the building is peeling, a lot of the glass windows look cracked, if not outright boarded up, and there’s graffiti all over it.
“Fucking graffiti artists,” he mutters.
“Why do you even care?” Emilia asks as she parks the van a few blocks over.
“Graffiti is illegal, Harcourt! A law is a law!”
“I think most of the world, including you, has more important things to worry about right now. Let’s stay focused, Chase.”
“These people have no pride in their work, is all I’m saying. If they did, they would kill the people who keep drawing on their building. It’s not theirs to draw on, no matter how shitty it is already!”
“It is pretty shitty,” Emilia allows. “Our building is so much nicer. No wonder they’re trying to kill us off. They’d probably steal our customers and our office.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not fucking happening on my watch,” Adrian says darkly. “What do we do now, since we can’t get to the roof?”
“We still gotta get up there,” she says. “The vents are our best bet to not get caught while there are people in the building.”
“How?”
“Don’t you have a grappling hook or some shit?”
“Of course,” Adrian says, like that’s a perfectly normal thing for a person to have.
“We can use it like a zipline from that taller building the next block over,” she says, pointing. “The one with the red roof, I think it’s an apartment building.” Adrian follows her line of sight and smiles wide beneath his mask.
“We really are going to be like spies!”
Emilia sighs.
It’s late afternoon by the time they sneak their way up the fire escape of that nearby building. They had to change back into their civilian clothes, since they were going to be in plain sight for so long—even though they’re tucked away in an alley, shadowed from view of the main street, it’s a hike, ten flights of stairs up from the ground, and they’re bogged down carrying duffle bags with Adrian’s Vigilante suit and all their weapons and supplies. Harcourt wears a baseball cap and sunglasses, in case one of Leon Sullivan’s people drives by and notices her bright blond hair.
Once they get to the rooftop, Adrian drops their duffle bags to the ground so they can sort through their things and gear up. He pulls his suit back on as quickly as he can. Something about not wearing it in such close proximity to the enemy makes his skin crawl, and he feels instantly better when he puts it on.
It helps that the suit smells a little bit like you.
From there, it’s quick work to send Adrian’s grappling hook flying across the distance between buildings. He yanks it tight until he’s certain it’s hooked onto the ledge of the warehouse rooftop, then knots it tightly onto a metal anchor he attaches to the brick ledge of the building they stand on top of. Emilia plucks at the taut rope, testing the tension and sturdiness, before nodding her approval.
“Alright,” she says. “This is it.”
“This is it,” Adrian nods.
“Before we go in there,” Emilia says, “if one of us gets captured, the other gets the hell out of there. We go home, we tell the others what happened, we share what we learned, and then come back for a rescue. I don’t want this whole thing to be for nothing. Understood?”
“Understood,” Adrian says soberly.
“Your earbud is on and working?” Emilia checks. Adrian taps his ear over her mask and nods. “Good. Ladies first.” She gestures at their makeshift zipline.
“You’re the lady,” Adrian says, confused.
“Just fucking get over there.”
“You just want me to go first in case it doesn’t work,” he accuses.
“You got me,” Emilia says, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re the one who’s all gung ho about being a spy, you fucking dork.”
Adrian frowns petulantly. “Being a spy is cool as fuck.” He wishes, for a half second, that you were there, because you would agree with him. Or, at the very least, you would humor him.
But then he remembers exactly why you’re not here, and the guilt flares up again. Instead of making him doubt himself, though, it only hardens his resolve. He’s doing this for you, for the whole pack, to keep everyone safe.
He’ll be able to tell you that when he goes home. After you finish yelling at him, of course.
With that, he hangs on to the rope and zooms down to the roof of the warehouse, crashing into the wall with absolutely no finesse before pulling himself over the ledge and stumbling to his feet. Being a spy is harder than the movies make it look, apparently. Emilia’s not far behind him, landing with much more grace than he did.
“There’s no way this fucking building is up to code,” Adrian mutters, looking around at the damp, moldy infrastructure around the roof.
“Focus,” Emilia says. She’s whispering, but he can hear her clear as day through the earpiece. “We are not here to inspect them for building code violations. We are here to gather intel. Come on—looks like the air vents open up to that panel over there.”
“Okay,” Adrian says. “Fine.”
He finds the panel that she’s talking about and swings open the metal doors as quietly as he can. It’s not big enough for both of them to fit side by side; they’ll have to climb in one at a time.
“Ladies first again?” he asks, one foot already in the metal tube. His boot clanks against the metal and he winces. Harcourt does too.
“Yeah. You’ll have to go slow to stay quiet,” she says. “I’m right behind you.”
The inside of the vent is cramped and uncomfortable, but Adrian powers through, dragging himself forward inch by inch. He tries not to think about what a pain in the ass it will be to do this backwards on the way out.
Sound echoes through the building. Some are familiar, like the rattling of bullets, fresh ammunition in boxes being carried across a room. Others are not—voices he does not recognize that set him on edge, too far and faint to hear clearly. He follows the sound.
Emilia stays about a yard behind him. The vents are supposed to hold air, not human bodies, so they try to make sure not to put too much weight on the thin layer of metal beneath them at any one spot.
“They’re on to us,” someone is saying below. Adrian holds up a hand to signal to Emilia to stop crawling, then points downward. She presses her ear directly to the metal, and Adrian strains his own ears to hear better.
“Our agents are good,” says the voice. “Years of experience. There’s no way this many of them are getting caught or going missing by accident. We’re being targeted.”
Adrian grits his teeth. Yeah, asshole, because you targeted us first.
“It’s Harcourt and Smith,” says another man, his voice deeper and raspy. “I had been hoping that incident a few months back would take them out entirely, but it didn’t work.”
“Incident?”
“I fed them bad information,” says the man. “The Omega in their pack got hurt pretty bad, which set them back a bit, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve figured out we were behind it.” Adrian practically lights on fire with fury when he realizes it’s Leon Sullivan beneath him, speaking so casually about the way you’d almost died. The way he’d almost killed you. He clenches his hands into fists so they won’t start shaking.
“We can set another trap for them,” says the other man. “Find their weak spot. Target the Omega again, maybe? If we capture her, we can lure them here. Get a ransom out of them before we kill them all.”
Adrian can’t stop it, now, the way he’s shaking with rage. His breath comes in fast pants, fogging up his visor. No fucking way is he letting these dickbags touch you again. He’d die before he let that happen.
“We need to warn them,” Adrian says back, his voice trembling in a quiet murmur. “She’s—she’s home alone, she needs protection, what if they beat us there—”
“Shh,” Emilia says. “Listen. Maybe they’ll spill more details.”
The men have started speaking more quietly, now, though, and it’s harder to hear.
“Inch forward,” Emilia orders. “Get closer, see if you can hear them better.”
Adrian does as she asks, shuffling himself forward on his elbows.
His mind is spiralling. Every horror he’d imagined about the pack enemies targeting you, about needing to keep you safe—he was right about all of it. He wishes he wasn’t. He needs to go home, he needs to go home right now and never leave your side. He won’t even sleep until they take out these bastards, because someone needs to keep an eye on you. He’ll sit on the end of the bed like a guard dog with a gun. He’ll do whatever he fucking has to do, he’ll—
He’s too caught up in his panic, imagining every worst case scenario, that he doesn’t hear the way the metal groans as his palm presses into the metal beneath him.
Adrian’s heart leaps up his throat as the vent gives way and he tumbles through the air, hitting the ground with a noisy thud, a loud avalanche of his own spiralling limbs and shoddy old building material. Then he’s looking up at the ceiling, surrounded by twisted, bent metal and crumbling drywall pieces.
Then he hears the familiar click of a gun’s safety being flicked off. He slowly turns, and for the first time, after months and months of agonizing, anxious staring at the man’s dossier, he meets the eyes of Leon Sullivan.
His heart, still pounding, sinks into his chest a little as he stares down the barrel of the gun.
“Adrian,” Emilia says, a panicked whisper. “Are you—”
“Go, Harcourt,” he says. “We made a deal.”
If one of us gets captured, the other gets the hell out of there. And now, more than ever, he needs Harcourt to go.
It’s over for him. He knows it is. But Emilia is his pack Alpha, is your pack Alpha, and he trusts her to look after you when he's not there. He has no choice now.
They’re going to kill him, and you’ll be alone. He has so much he feels like he needs to say to you, still. That he loves you. That he’s sorry.
His earpiece has started to go staticky, and he knows Emilia is scrambling her way back to the rooftop. He trusts that his pack Alpha will protect you, even when he can’t. And that’s all he can think about in this moment. You.
“Harcourt, tell her—” he whispers, but then something sharp stings at the back of his neck, piercing through the kevlar of his suit, and everything fades to black.
She’s still in her first year at Checkmate and getting partnered with Adrian on a mission seems like a trap - especially since she’s fighting her crush on him and now they have to play newlyweds with virtually no support from the others. What will they do as nothing seems to ever go right on this mission?
Masterlist, Ch 1
Chapter 12: Clear the Air
Thank you @vigilantexreader and @kakyoweenie for the edits!
The man’s hands remained on her side as she looked up at Adrian, her eyes wide and locked on him as he remained focused on the man. She tried to get him to look at her.
“Remove your hands from my wife,” he said, sounding deadly.
“Adrian, it’s-” she tried, untangling herself from the man, but his hands remained tight on her.
“Stop touching my wife,” he said, voice tense and unforgiving. He looked ready to snap, hand itching to hold an undetectable weapon. He may look like a regular guy on vacation in his khaki shorts and linen shirt, but Adrian was never unprepared as far as measures to kill criminals.
“Listen, buddy-” the man started, giving her one more squeeze before one of his hands slipped off of her. He held it in front of him, trying to placate Adrian, but it did no good. Adrian’s brow furrowed the moment the man squeezed her and before she could even blink, he reeled back and punched the man square in the jaw.
He went down like a sack of potatoes.
She gasped and her hands flew to cover her mouth.
“Adrian!” she said, reaching for the incensed man, trying to pull Adrian back as he moved towards the man who was cradling his bloody nose. He ignored her hands trying to tug him away as he glared down at the man.
“You don’t ever touch her again, ever. Do you understand me?” His voice was tight, as if he was fighting the urge to do something worse than punch the man, and even though she hadn’t been working with Adrian for more than eight months, she knew he could easily kill him for her, and the look on his face told her he wanted to.
“What the fuck man!” he cried. “You broke my nose!”
“I should’ve broke your fucking hand,” Adrian spit out. “You don’t touch her, you don’t look at her, you don’t even fucking think about her. Do you understand me?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, yes!” he cried, the man's blue eyes frantic as he avoided looking at her. When Adrian finally looked at her, he was seething.
“Come on,” he said firmly, grabbing her hand while she was still in shock to pull her out of the club. It was once he touched her that she snapped out of her daze, looking back at the man on the ground being helped up by someone else.
Then she really comprehended what was happening.
“Adrian!” she said, ripping her hand out of his grasp, and he looked at her eyes, his were wide and confused.
“What?” he asked, eyes straining against the light. Clearly trying to understand why she was reacting the way she was.
“That was a fucking lead and you punched him!” she yelled, eyes flickering around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. “You weren’t doing your job! You were supposed to be at the bar watching my back and when I looked over you were gone! How was I supposed to signal you that I had found someone from the dossier?”
“Him?” he asked, brows furrowed and even though they were no longer anywhere near that man he still tried looking behind her for him. “He’s not a target.”
“I swear to you, he was familiar! I think he was in the dossier!”
“He’s not,” he said, firmly. She fought the urge to scream as she moved away from Adrian, making her way towards the elevator. “He looked nothing like any of the targets!” Adrian cried as she continued stomping away.
“Okay Adrian! I get it! I wasted my time, fucking move on!” she said as he kept pace with her.
“I was just trying to protect you,” he said adamantly, keeping on her heels.
“Okay!” she said, trying to get him to stop. She could feel her temper rising and she wanted nothing more than to just be away from him.
“Your husband-” he started.
“Adrian!” she cried, spinning on her heel to face him. “Jesus! I’m not your wife! We have nothing Adrian! Nothing! Do you realize that?” she yelled, she waited a beat before she couldn’t stand looking at him anymore and she continued walking away from him. She could hear him keeping pace with her. As annoying as it was, she was glad she could keep yelling at him. “Our first lead this entire week! You might think he wasn’t in the dossier, but I do, and you didn’t let me do my job! Plus, you punched him, so even if I found him later, he probably wouldn’t talk to me at all!”
“He was touching your ass, sorry for playing the part of your HUSBAND!” he yelled. She pulled at her hair, not understanding why he wasn’t listening to her.
“Adrian! Are you listening to yourself? You’re not my husband! This isn’t a real honeymoon! We are undercover for our jobs, and I know that to you, your job is all fun and games, but I do care about my job and doing good work. The last thing I need is to lose my job because you don’t know how to act during an undercover mission!” He stepped back like she had physically hit him, there’s something in his expression that makes her feel ill.
“Right, that’s all this is,” he muttered, and something twists in her.
“Yes, Adrian. This is my job, I’m trying to do my job. You should fucking try it sometime,” she snapped making her way towards the elevator. He still followed her, a little less close this time, but at least he was silent as they got into the elevator. He remained silent as she hit their floor number and the elevator closed and started moving.
The elevator shook and Adrian gasped next to her, his hand grabbing hers tightly.
“What was that?”
“Adrian, don’t start,” she said, rubbing her eyes with her other hand, not finding it in herself to pull her hand out of his yet. All she wanted was to be back in the room and to lock herself in the bathroom. Anything to get away from him for just five minutes. The elevator shook again and out of the corner of her eye she saw him pull out a knife from god knows where. “Jesus Christ, put that away,” she said, hand on his arm as he held it steady and pointed out as he glanced all around the elevator.
“It’s a trap,” he hissed.
“It is not, Adrian! None of this is a trap because there’s no way this is even a fucking mission at this point. We’re going back with nothing, and you’ll be fine because you’re tight with everyone, and I’m going to lose my fucking job because I’m a bad agent who can’t even handle a simple under cover mission!” she said her voice shrill even to her own ears, quick to swipe away any tears. She knew she was weak but she didn’t need Adrian to see it even more.
Before he could say anything, the elevator shuttered back to life, jerking the two as Adrian put his knife back wherever he had grabbed it from.
“See, not a trap,” she grumbled as she released his hand and headed towards the room, her brain still swimming.
The door slammed behind Adrian as she pulled out the dossier, ripping out pages and fighting the urge to scream. She laid everything out on the bed, attempting to take any of it in a new light.
“This makes no fucking sense!” she cried as she took a step back from the dossier she had spread on the bed.
“Maybe, we’re missing a page?” Adrian tried, eyebrows tight on his forehead as he looked at the pages with a frown.
“We’re not missing a page, they’re numbered. Maybe Harcourt left something out? Did she make this instead of Chris?”
“Chris didn’t say, but I’d assume Chris, based on some of the misspelling.” Adrian said with a hum. She frowned and took a step back.
“I’m calling Harcourt, I know Chris said to limit contact, but we need something,” she said as she clicked Emilia’s contact. She answered on the third ring.
“Hey, lover girl. How’s your getaway with Vig going?” she said with a teasing tone, and she felt heat creep up her neck, immediately regretting the fact she had her on speaker phone.
“Listen, Emilia, we’re really stuck here. We think we might be missing a page in the dossier or something. Do you know anything about our main target’s connection to this place?” she said, practically begging for an answer as Emilia stayed silent on the line. “Just anything we can use. We’re running out of time.”
“What do you mean dossier?” Emilia asked after a beat.
“I know, Chris’s dossiers are terrible, hence this mess, and you can barely call it a dossier but we are really lost, right now and could use-”
“Why do you have a dossier? You two are on PTO,” Harcourt said and she froze, looking over at Adrian.
“No, we’re on a mission. Chris sent us here to bust a drug ring,” she said slowly, the gears in her head starting to turn as she realized what was happening.
“I’m telling you now that you’re on PTO, there’s no mission,” Harcourt repeated back, just as slow as she did, in almost a mocking tone. “Now go enjoy a margarita for me and please keep track of how many times Adrian says something stupid. I have a bet with Ads that he’s going to ruin this before you even give him a real chance.” Harcourt hung up and left her staring at Adrian who looked at her clearly waiting for her reaction.
“Call Chris,” she said tensely, and Adrian looked at her with wild eyes as he got his phone out and called Chris. “Speaker,” she said, and Adrian listened.
“Yo, Vig. What’s up?” Chris said she could hear video games in the background, she gritted her teeth as she nodded at Adrian to answer him.
“Hey, Peacemaker! I was uhhh just wondering if you had any information about our target?” Adrian asked, eyes wide and on her. Her eyes were locked on his phone.
“Target? What are you talking about?” Chris asked, and Adrian frowned.
“The mission - the dossier you gave us?” Adrian asked, looking at her.
“Oh, that…fuck Vig, you’ve been taking that seriously? That was just an excuse to get you guys to the resort - I figured you guys would’ve figured out that it was bullshit immediately. Like on the plane like instantly. I made it all up, just copy and pasted shit from old dossiers.”
“Why the fuck are we on a fake mission, Chris!” she said, snatching the phone from Adrian.
“What do you mean why the fuck are you on a fake mission where you guys have to be lovey-dovey? I thought it would finally get you guys fucking started! Do you know how exhausting it’s been watching you two for six months?” Chris said, as if they had truly been inconveniencing the man with their crushes and silent looks.
“That’s fucking insane!” she cried.
“I’m so sorry for trying to help my friend hook up with the girl he’s clearly in love with and the girl who stares at him all day and acts like he hung the stars in the sky!”
“I’m going to hang up now,” she said coolly, not giving Chris a chance to say anything as she kept her gaze locked on Adrian, who looked like he was about to be sick. “Adrian, have you actually liked me this entire time?” she asked gently, and she watched him bite his cheek.
“I need you to define ‘liked’ and ‘this entire time’,” he settled on, and she groaned, throwing herself on the plush bed with all the papers covered in lies that had been haunting her this entire fake mission. She was no longer able to even look at Adrian, she was so frustrated. He had put her feelings through the ringer all week, only for her to find out that he had felt the same way. Apparently he had felt this way long enough for Christopher Smith of all people to try to help him out and set them up.
“You’ve liked me this whole time? Adrian, I’ve been thinking this is all pretend, and it’s been fucking with my head!” she yelled at him, moving her eyes from the ceiling to not miss his reaction, and she watched him throw his hands up in the air and begin pacing.
“I thought it was part of the mission! I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable like I’m some creep! I’m a feminist! Same thing when we’re at work! I’m not trying to harass you…ya know sexually!” he said back, eyes wide and wild.
“You thought me sitting in your lap on an empty beach was part of the mission?” she said, sitting up, as annoyed as she felt she couldn’t help but be endeared by Adrian’s clear panic. “We both knew we weren’t going to spot a single target!”
“Yeah, a really fucking good part of the mission, I jerked off in the bathroom that night thinking about that!”
“Adrian!”
“What! I fucking did! Or should we go back to lying?” he said, his tone wild as he leaned over towards her. She sighed as she watched his chest heave. His face was red, and his eyes were still having a hard time focusing on her. It was then she realized that Adrian was feeling angry or frustrated like she was - but where she was upset that they both had been so blind to the other’s feelings, he was borderlining a panic attack.
“Adrian,” she said softly, standing up so she could wrap him up in her arms. He stayed stiff for a beat, just a second, before he melted against her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tightly against him.
“I don’t want to go back to lying,” he murmured into the top of her head, and she sighed.
“This is insane,” she said, still not over what Chris had done.
“When have our friends ever been sane,” he whispered, shaking his head.
She sighed, letting herself close her eyes as she tried to digest any of this. It was absolutely insane that Chris would do this to his friend and his coworker, but there was a part of her that was thankful for Chris’s stupidity and dumbass plans.
“Remember the first night?” he asked, suddenly out of the blue. When she tilted her head, confusion over her features Adrian kept going. “When you asked me what my number one fear is?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s losing you. Well it’s losing everyone, but the more time we spend together, it’s you. The idea that one day, everyone could just be gone? That I could fuck up and lose everyone, especially after how long it took for me to have friends? and you? Whatever you call this where I pine for you and I'm your annoying colleague at worst and work friend at best? I'll take it, as long as I get to have you in my life it's worth it. So losing you terrifies me more than anything,” he said, his face open and vulnerable as his eyes searched her face, almost desperately.
“Oh, Ade.” she said softly.
“I’m serious, you’re…you’re everything to me.”
“You-”
“From the moment you interviewed, I liked you, and I liked you even more when you started putting sour candy on your desk and you were always nice to me and you laugh at my jokes like you mean it and I just…I love you.”
“Adrian,” she said, her breath caught in her throat as she searched for any inch of lying on his face, but she couldn’t find any.
“Is that too insane? Too much?” he said immediately, looking panicked. “If I had known Chris’ plan, I would’ve planned a way better speech and ran it by Ads too to make sure it was good and I didn’t say anything stupid. But then again if I knew Chris’ plan I would’ve told you immediately because we’ve been working when we should’ve been relaxing. Even if you don’t like me back we could’ve just had a normal vacation. God, I’m so sorry he did this.”
“No…it’s not insane,” she whispered, moving closer to him. A smile broke out on his face as his hands went to her waist, squeezing her gently.
“Yeah?”
“Love is…a lot for right now,” she said, his smile twitching for just a second. “But I do really like you Adrian. This whole mission has been torture because all I wanted was for all this to be real. For you to look at me and for it to be real and I just…”
“It’s always been real,” he said, voice almost sounding hoarse. “The way I look about you and think about you. I wasn’t acting, if anything I’ve been selfish this whole time.”
“The way I’ve been with you, it’s been real too,” she said, voice shaking.
“I am sorry,” he said, suddenly sounding rueful as she looked at him. Confusion all over her features. “For not being there when you needed me, I should’ve been watching and making sure you were safe. I want to do that, not only for missions but outside of all this,” he said, fidgeting with his hands, his face almost looking like he was in pain.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, realizing how hard Adrian must’ve taken her words.
“It’s not,” he said, voice firm. “But I’d like to make it up to you if you’ll let me,” he asked, his green eyes never wavering from her eyes. His intensity made her start to well up, this whole time it had been eating her up inside not knowing where she stood with Adrian and to find out that he cared the same for her, if not more, was almost too much.
“I think I can find it in me to let you try,” she teased and Adrian let out a huff. “And I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have blown up at you.”
“Nah, it was hot and I deserved it,” he said, finally a smile crossing his features as he took a step closer to her.
“Well, either way I’m still sorry,” she whispered as Adrian’s smile grew, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, wiping away a tear.
“Can I kiss you? Please can I kiss you?” he begged, and she let out a watery laugh.
“Yes, Adrian. You can kiss me,” she said and he took no time to cup both her cheeks as he was quick to smash their lips together. As far as first kisses went, it was clunky, awkward, a little too much teeth from Adrian, but she wouldn’t change it for the world.
She’s still in her first year at Checkmate and getting partnered with Adrian on a mission seems like a trap - especially since she’s fighting her crush on him and now they have to play newlyweds with virtually no support from the others. What will they do as nothing seems to ever go right on this mission?
Masterlist, Ch 1
Chapter 12: Clear the Air
Thank you @vigilantexreader and @kakyoweenie for the edits!
The man’s hands remained on her side as she looked up at Adrian, her eyes wide and locked on him as he remained focused on the man. She tried to get him to look at her.
“Remove your hands from my wife,” he said, sounding deadly.
“Adrian, it’s-” she tried, untangling herself from the man, but his hands remained tight on her.
“Stop touching my wife,” he said, voice tense and unforgiving. He looked ready to snap, hand itching to hold an undetectable weapon. He may look like a regular guy on vacation in his khaki shorts and linen shirt, but Adrian was never unprepared as far as measures to kill criminals.
“Listen, buddy-” the man started, giving her one more squeeze before one of his hands slipped off of her. He held it in front of him, trying to placate Adrian, but it did no good. Adrian’s brow furrowed the moment the man squeezed her and before she could even blink, he reeled back and punched the man square in the jaw.
He went down like a sack of potatoes.
She gasped and her hands flew to cover her mouth.
“Adrian!” she said, reaching for the incensed man, trying to pull Adrian back as he moved towards the man who was cradling his bloody nose. He ignored her hands trying to tug him away as he glared down at the man.
“You don’t ever touch her again, ever. Do you understand me?” His voice was tight, as if he was fighting the urge to do something worse than punch the man, and even though she hadn’t been working with Adrian for more than eight months, she knew he could easily kill him for her, and the look on his face told her he wanted to.
“What the fuck man!” he cried. “You broke my nose!”
“I should’ve broke your fucking hand,” Adrian spit out. “You don’t touch her, you don’t look at her, you don’t even fucking think about her. Do you understand me?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, yes!” he cried, the man's blue eyes frantic as he avoided looking at her. When Adrian finally looked at her, he was seething.
“Come on,” he said firmly, grabbing her hand while she was still in shock to pull her out of the club. It was once he touched her that she snapped out of her daze, looking back at the man on the ground being helped up by someone else.
Then she really comprehended what was happening.
“Adrian!” she said, ripping her hand out of his grasp, and he looked at her eyes, his were wide and confused.
“What?” he asked, eyes straining against the light. Clearly trying to understand why she was reacting the way she was.
“That was a fucking lead and you punched him!” she yelled, eyes flickering around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. “You weren’t doing your job! You were supposed to be at the bar watching my back and when I looked over you were gone! How was I supposed to signal you that I had found someone from the dossier?”
“Him?” he asked, brows furrowed and even though they were no longer anywhere near that man he still tried looking behind her for him. “He’s not a target.”
“I swear to you, he was familiar! I think he was in the dossier!”
“He’s not,” he said, firmly. She fought the urge to scream as she moved away from Adrian, making her way towards the elevator. “He looked nothing like any of the targets!” Adrian cried as she continued stomping away.
“Okay Adrian! I get it! I wasted my time, fucking move on!” she said as he kept pace with her.
“I was just trying to protect you,” he said adamantly, keeping on her heels.
“Okay!” she said, trying to get him to stop. She could feel her temper rising and she wanted nothing more than to just be away from him.
“Your husband-” he started.
“Adrian!” she cried, spinning on her heel to face him. “Jesus! I’m not your wife! We have nothing Adrian! Nothing! Do you realize that?” she yelled, she waited a beat before she couldn’t stand looking at him anymore and she continued walking away from him. She could hear him keeping pace with her. As annoying as it was, she was glad she could keep yelling at him. “Our first lead this entire week! You might think he wasn’t in the dossier, but I do, and you didn’t let me do my job! Plus, you punched him, so even if I found him later, he probably wouldn’t talk to me at all!”
“He was touching your ass, sorry for playing the part of your HUSBAND!” he yelled. She pulled at her hair, not understanding why he wasn’t listening to her.
“Adrian! Are you listening to yourself? You’re not my husband! This isn’t a real honeymoon! We are undercover for our jobs, and I know that to you, your job is all fun and games, but I do care about my job and doing good work. The last thing I need is to lose my job because you don’t know how to act during an undercover mission!” He stepped back like she had physically hit him, there’s something in his expression that makes her feel ill.
“Right, that’s all this is,” he muttered, and something twists in her.
“Yes, Adrian. This is my job, I’m trying to do my job. You should fucking try it sometime,” she snapped making her way towards the elevator. He still followed her, a little less close this time, but at least he was silent as they got into the elevator. He remained silent as she hit their floor number and the elevator closed and started moving.
The elevator shook and Adrian gasped next to her, his hand grabbing hers tightly.
“What was that?”
“Adrian, don’t start,” she said, rubbing her eyes with her other hand, not finding it in herself to pull her hand out of his yet. All she wanted was to be back in the room and to lock herself in the bathroom. Anything to get away from him for just five minutes. The elevator shook again and out of the corner of her eye she saw him pull out a knife from god knows where. “Jesus Christ, put that away,” she said, hand on his arm as he held it steady and pointed out as he glanced all around the elevator.
“It’s a trap,” he hissed.
“It is not, Adrian! None of this is a trap because there’s no way this is even a fucking mission at this point. We’re going back with nothing, and you’ll be fine because you’re tight with everyone, and I’m going to lose my fucking job because I’m a bad agent who can’t even handle a simple under cover mission!” she said her voice shrill even to her own ears, quick to swipe away any tears. She knew she was weak but she didn’t need Adrian to see it even more.
Before he could say anything, the elevator shuttered back to life, jerking the two as Adrian put his knife back wherever he had grabbed it from.
“See, not a trap,” she grumbled as she released his hand and headed towards the room, her brain still swimming.
The door slammed behind Adrian as she pulled out the dossier, ripping out pages and fighting the urge to scream. She laid everything out on the bed, attempting to take any of it in a new light.
“This makes no fucking sense!” she cried as she took a step back from the dossier she had spread on the bed.
“Maybe, we’re missing a page?” Adrian tried, eyebrows tight on his forehead as he looked at the pages with a frown.
“We’re not missing a page, they’re numbered. Maybe Harcourt left something out? Did she make this instead of Chris?”
“Chris didn’t say, but I’d assume Chris, based on some of the misspelling.” Adrian said with a hum. She frowned and took a step back.
“I’m calling Harcourt, I know Chris said to limit contact, but we need something,” she said as she clicked Emilia’s contact. She answered on the third ring.
“Hey, lover girl. How’s your getaway with Vig going?” she said with a teasing tone, and she felt heat creep up her neck, immediately regretting the fact she had her on speaker phone.
“Listen, Emilia, we’re really stuck here. We think we might be missing a page in the dossier or something. Do you know anything about our main target’s connection to this place?” she said, practically begging for an answer as Emilia stayed silent on the line. “Just anything we can use. We’re running out of time.”
“What do you mean dossier?” Emilia asked after a beat.
“I know, Chris’s dossiers are terrible, hence this mess, and you can barely call it a dossier but we are really lost, right now and could use-”
“Why do you have a dossier? You two are on PTO,” Harcourt said and she froze, looking over at Adrian.
“No, we’re on a mission. Chris sent us here to bust a drug ring,” she said slowly, the gears in her head starting to turn as she realized what was happening.
“I’m telling you now that you’re on PTO, there’s no mission,” Harcourt repeated back, just as slow as she did, in almost a mocking tone. “Now go enjoy a margarita for me and please keep track of how many times Adrian says something stupid. I have a bet with Ads that he’s going to ruin this before you even give him a real chance.” Harcourt hung up and left her staring at Adrian who looked at her clearly waiting for her reaction.
“Call Chris,” she said tensely, and Adrian looked at her with wild eyes as he got his phone out and called Chris. “Speaker,” she said, and Adrian listened.
“Yo, Vig. What’s up?” Chris said she could hear video games in the background, she gritted her teeth as she nodded at Adrian to answer him.
“Hey, Peacemaker! I was uhhh just wondering if you had any information about our target?” Adrian asked, eyes wide and on her. Her eyes were locked on his phone.
“Target? What are you talking about?” Chris asked, and Adrian frowned.
“The mission - the dossier you gave us?” Adrian asked, looking at her.
“Oh, that…fuck Vig, you’ve been taking that seriously? That was just an excuse to get you guys to the resort - I figured you guys would’ve figured out that it was bullshit immediately. Like on the plane like instantly. I made it all up, just copy and pasted shit from old dossiers.”
“Why the fuck are we on a fake mission, Chris!” she said, snatching the phone from Adrian.
“What do you mean why the fuck are you on a fake mission where you guys have to be lovey-dovey? I thought it would finally get you guys fucking started! Do you know how exhausting it’s been watching you two for six months?” Chris said, as if they had truly been inconveniencing the man with their crushes and silent looks.
“That’s fucking insane!” she cried.
“I’m so sorry for trying to help my friend hook up with the girl he’s clearly in love with and the girl who stares at him all day and acts like he hung the stars in the sky!”
“I’m going to hang up now,” she said coolly, not giving Chris a chance to say anything as she kept her gaze locked on Adrian, who looked like he was about to be sick. “Adrian, have you actually liked me this entire time?” she asked gently, and she watched him bite his cheek.
“I need you to define ‘liked’ and ‘this entire time’,” he settled on, and she groaned, throwing herself on the plush bed with all the papers covered in lies that had been haunting her this entire fake mission. She was no longer able to even look at Adrian, she was so frustrated. He had put her feelings through the ringer all week, only for her to find out that he had felt the same way. Apparently he had felt this way long enough for Christopher Smith of all people to try to help him out and set them up.
“You’ve liked me this whole time? Adrian, I’ve been thinking this is all pretend, and it’s been fucking with my head!” she yelled at him, moving her eyes from the ceiling to not miss his reaction, and she watched him throw his hands up in the air and begin pacing.
“I thought it was part of the mission! I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable like I’m some creep! I’m a feminist! Same thing when we’re at work! I’m not trying to harass you…ya know sexually!” he said back, eyes wide and wild.
“You thought me sitting in your lap on an empty beach was part of the mission?” she said, sitting up, as annoyed as she felt she couldn’t help but be endeared by Adrian’s clear panic. “We both knew we weren’t going to spot a single target!”
“Yeah, a really fucking good part of the mission, I jerked off in the bathroom that night thinking about that!”
“Adrian!”
“What! I fucking did! Or should we go back to lying?” he said, his tone wild as he leaned over towards her. She sighed as she watched his chest heave. His face was red, and his eyes were still having a hard time focusing on her. It was then she realized that Adrian was feeling angry or frustrated like she was - but where she was upset that they both had been so blind to the other’s feelings, he was borderlining a panic attack.
“Adrian,” she said softly, standing up so she could wrap him up in her arms. He stayed stiff for a beat, just a second, before he melted against her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tightly against him.
“I don’t want to go back to lying,” he murmured into the top of her head, and she sighed.
“This is insane,” she said, still not over what Chris had done.
“When have our friends ever been sane,” he whispered, shaking his head.
She sighed, letting herself close her eyes as she tried to digest any of this. It was absolutely insane that Chris would do this to his friend and his coworker, but there was a part of her that was thankful for Chris’s stupidity and dumbass plans.
“Remember the first night?” he asked, suddenly out of the blue. When she tilted her head, confusion over her features Adrian kept going. “When you asked me what my number one fear is?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s losing you. Well it’s losing everyone, but the more time we spend together, it’s you. The idea that one day, everyone could just be gone? That I could fuck up and lose everyone, especially after how long it took for me to have friends? and you? Whatever you call this where I pine for you and I'm your annoying colleague at worst and work friend at best? I'll take it, as long as I get to have you in my life it's worth it. So losing you terrifies me more than anything,” he said, his face open and vulnerable as his eyes searched her face, almost desperately.
“Oh, Ade.” she said softly.
“I’m serious, you’re…you’re everything to me.”
“You-”
“From the moment you interviewed, I liked you, and I liked you even more when you started putting sour candy on your desk and you were always nice to me and you laugh at my jokes like you mean it and I just…I love you.”
“Adrian,” she said, her breath caught in her throat as she searched for any inch of lying on his face, but she couldn’t find any.
“Is that too insane? Too much?” he said immediately, looking panicked. “If I had known Chris’ plan, I would’ve planned a way better speech and ran it by Ads too to make sure it was good and I didn’t say anything stupid. But then again if I knew Chris’ plan I would’ve told you immediately because we’ve been working when we should’ve been relaxing. Even if you don’t like me back we could’ve just had a normal vacation. God, I’m so sorry he did this.”
“No…it’s not insane,” she whispered, moving closer to him. A smile broke out on his face as his hands went to her waist, squeezing her gently.
“Yeah?”
“Love is…a lot for right now,” she said, his smile twitching for just a second. “But I do really like you Adrian. This whole mission has been torture because all I wanted was for all this to be real. For you to look at me and for it to be real and I just…”
“It’s always been real,” he said, voice almost sounding hoarse. “The way I look about you and think about you. I wasn’t acting, if anything I’ve been selfish this whole time.”
“The way I’ve been with you, it’s been real too,” she said, voice shaking.
“I am sorry,” he said, suddenly sounding rueful as she looked at him. Confusion all over her features. “For not being there when you needed me, I should’ve been watching and making sure you were safe. I want to do that, not only for missions but outside of all this,” he said, fidgeting with his hands, his face almost looking like he was in pain.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, realizing how hard Adrian must’ve taken her words.
“It’s not,” he said, voice firm. “But I’d like to make it up to you if you’ll let me,” he asked, his green eyes never wavering from her eyes. His intensity made her start to well up, this whole time it had been eating her up inside not knowing where she stood with Adrian and to find out that he cared the same for her, if not more, was almost too much.
“I think I can find it in me to let you try,” she teased and Adrian let out a huff. “And I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have blown up at you.”
“Nah, it was hot and I deserved it,” he said, finally a smile crossing his features as he took a step closer to her.
“Well, either way I’m still sorry,” she whispered as Adrian’s smile grew, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, wiping away a tear.
“Can I kiss you? Please can I kiss you?” he begged, and she let out a watery laugh.
“Yes, Adrian. You can kiss me,” she said and he took no time to cup both her cheeks as he was quick to smash their lips together. As far as first kisses went, it was clunky, awkward, a little too much teeth from Adrian, but she wouldn’t change it for the world.
She’s still in her first year at Checkmate and getting partnered with Adrian on a mission seems like a trap - especially since she’s fighting her crush on him and now they have to play newlyweds with virtually no support from the others. What will they do as nothing seems to ever go right on this mission?
Masterlist, Ch 1
Chapter 12: Clear the Air
Thank you @vigilantexreader and @kakyoweenie for the edits!
The man’s hands remained on her side as she looked up at Adrian, her eyes wide and locked on him as he remained focused on the man. She tried to get him to look at her.
“Remove your hands from my wife,” he said, sounding deadly.
“Adrian, it’s-” she tried, untangling herself from the man, but his hands remained tight on her.
“Stop touching my wife,” he said, voice tense and unforgiving. He looked ready to snap, hand itching to hold an undetectable weapon. He may look like a regular guy on vacation in his khaki shorts and linen shirt, but Adrian was never unprepared as far as measures to kill criminals.
“Listen, buddy-” the man started, giving her one more squeeze before one of his hands slipped off of her. He held it in front of him, trying to placate Adrian, but it did no good. Adrian’s brow furrowed the moment the man squeezed her and before she could even blink, he reeled back and punched the man square in the jaw.
He went down like a sack of potatoes.
She gasped and her hands flew to cover her mouth.
“Adrian!” she said, reaching for the incensed man, trying to pull Adrian back as he moved towards the man who was cradling his bloody nose. He ignored her hands trying to tug him away as he glared down at the man.
“You don’t ever touch her again, ever. Do you understand me?” His voice was tight, as if he was fighting the urge to do something worse than punch the man, and even though she hadn’t been working with Adrian for more than eight months, she knew he could easily kill him for her, and the look on his face told her he wanted to.
“What the fuck man!” he cried. “You broke my nose!”
“I should’ve broke your fucking hand,” Adrian spit out. “You don’t touch her, you don’t look at her, you don’t even fucking think about her. Do you understand me?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, yes!” he cried, the man's blue eyes frantic as he avoided looking at her. When Adrian finally looked at her, he was seething.
“Come on,” he said firmly, grabbing her hand while she was still in shock to pull her out of the club. It was once he touched her that she snapped out of her daze, looking back at the man on the ground being helped up by someone else.
Then she really comprehended what was happening.
“Adrian!” she said, ripping her hand out of his grasp, and he looked at her eyes, his were wide and confused.
“What?” he asked, eyes straining against the light. Clearly trying to understand why she was reacting the way she was.
“That was a fucking lead and you punched him!” she yelled, eyes flickering around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. “You weren’t doing your job! You were supposed to be at the bar watching my back and when I looked over you were gone! How was I supposed to signal you that I had found someone from the dossier?”
“Him?” he asked, brows furrowed and even though they were no longer anywhere near that man he still tried looking behind her for him. “He’s not a target.”
“I swear to you, he was familiar! I think he was in the dossier!”
“He’s not,” he said, firmly. She fought the urge to scream as she moved away from Adrian, making her way towards the elevator. “He looked nothing like any of the targets!” Adrian cried as she continued stomping away.
“Okay Adrian! I get it! I wasted my time, fucking move on!” she said as he kept pace with her.
“I was just trying to protect you,” he said adamantly, keeping on her heels.
“Okay!” she said, trying to get him to stop. She could feel her temper rising and she wanted nothing more than to just be away from him.
“Your husband-” he started.
“Adrian!” she cried, spinning on her heel to face him. “Jesus! I’m not your wife! We have nothing Adrian! Nothing! Do you realize that?” she yelled, she waited a beat before she couldn’t stand looking at him anymore and she continued walking away from him. She could hear him keeping pace with her. As annoying as it was, she was glad she could keep yelling at him. “Our first lead this entire week! You might think he wasn’t in the dossier, but I do, and you didn’t let me do my job! Plus, you punched him, so even if I found him later, he probably wouldn’t talk to me at all!”
“He was touching your ass, sorry for playing the part of your HUSBAND!” he yelled. She pulled at her hair, not understanding why he wasn’t listening to her.
“Adrian! Are you listening to yourself? You’re not my husband! This isn’t a real honeymoon! We are undercover for our jobs, and I know that to you, your job is all fun and games, but I do care about my job and doing good work. The last thing I need is to lose my job because you don’t know how to act during an undercover mission!” He stepped back like she had physically hit him, there’s something in his expression that makes her feel ill.
“Right, that’s all this is,” he muttered, and something twists in her.
“Yes, Adrian. This is my job, I’m trying to do my job. You should fucking try it sometime,” she snapped making her way towards the elevator. He still followed her, a little less close this time, but at least he was silent as they got into the elevator. He remained silent as she hit their floor number and the elevator closed and started moving.
The elevator shook and Adrian gasped next to her, his hand grabbing hers tightly.
“What was that?”
“Adrian, don’t start,” she said, rubbing her eyes with her other hand, not finding it in herself to pull her hand out of his yet. All she wanted was to be back in the room and to lock herself in the bathroom. Anything to get away from him for just five minutes. The elevator shook again and out of the corner of her eye she saw him pull out a knife from god knows where. “Jesus Christ, put that away,” she said, hand on his arm as he held it steady and pointed out as he glanced all around the elevator.
“It’s a trap,” he hissed.
“It is not, Adrian! None of this is a trap because there’s no way this is even a fucking mission at this point. We’re going back with nothing, and you’ll be fine because you’re tight with everyone, and I’m going to lose my fucking job because I’m a bad agent who can’t even handle a simple under cover mission!” she said her voice shrill even to her own ears, quick to swipe away any tears. She knew she was weak but she didn’t need Adrian to see it even more.
Before he could say anything, the elevator shuttered back to life, jerking the two as Adrian put his knife back wherever he had grabbed it from.
“See, not a trap,” she grumbled as she released his hand and headed towards the room, her brain still swimming.
The door slammed behind Adrian as she pulled out the dossier, ripping out pages and fighting the urge to scream. She laid everything out on the bed, attempting to take any of it in a new light.
“This makes no fucking sense!” she cried as she took a step back from the dossier she had spread on the bed.
“Maybe, we’re missing a page?” Adrian tried, eyebrows tight on his forehead as he looked at the pages with a frown.
“We’re not missing a page, they’re numbered. Maybe Harcourt left something out? Did she make this instead of Chris?”
“Chris didn’t say, but I’d assume Chris, based on some of the misspelling.” Adrian said with a hum. She frowned and took a step back.
“I’m calling Harcourt, I know Chris said to limit contact, but we need something,” she said as she clicked Emilia’s contact. She answered on the third ring.
“Hey, lover girl. How’s your getaway with Vig going?” she said with a teasing tone, and she felt heat creep up her neck, immediately regretting the fact she had her on speaker phone.
“Listen, Emilia, we’re really stuck here. We think we might be missing a page in the dossier or something. Do you know anything about our main target’s connection to this place?” she said, practically begging for an answer as Emilia stayed silent on the line. “Just anything we can use. We’re running out of time.”
“What do you mean dossier?” Emilia asked after a beat.
“I know, Chris’s dossiers are terrible, hence this mess, and you can barely call it a dossier but we are really lost, right now and could use-”
“Why do you have a dossier? You two are on PTO,” Harcourt said and she froze, looking over at Adrian.
“No, we’re on a mission. Chris sent us here to bust a drug ring,” she said slowly, the gears in her head starting to turn as she realized what was happening.
“I’m telling you now that you’re on PTO, there’s no mission,” Harcourt repeated back, just as slow as she did, in almost a mocking tone. “Now go enjoy a margarita for me and please keep track of how many times Adrian says something stupid. I have a bet with Ads that he’s going to ruin this before you even give him a real chance.” Harcourt hung up and left her staring at Adrian who looked at her clearly waiting for her reaction.
“Call Chris,” she said tensely, and Adrian looked at her with wild eyes as he got his phone out and called Chris. “Speaker,” she said, and Adrian listened.
“Yo, Vig. What’s up?” Chris said she could hear video games in the background, she gritted her teeth as she nodded at Adrian to answer him.
“Hey, Peacemaker! I was uhhh just wondering if you had any information about our target?” Adrian asked, eyes wide and on her. Her eyes were locked on his phone.
“Target? What are you talking about?” Chris asked, and Adrian frowned.
“The mission - the dossier you gave us?” Adrian asked, looking at her.
“Oh, that…fuck Vig, you’ve been taking that seriously? That was just an excuse to get you guys to the resort - I figured you guys would’ve figured out that it was bullshit immediately. Like on the plane like instantly. I made it all up, just copy and pasted shit from old dossiers.”
“Why the fuck are we on a fake mission, Chris!” she said, snatching the phone from Adrian.
“What do you mean why the fuck are you on a fake mission where you guys have to be lovey-dovey? I thought it would finally get you guys fucking started! Do you know how exhausting it’s been watching you two for six months?” Chris said, as if they had truly been inconveniencing the man with their crushes and silent looks.
“That’s fucking insane!” she cried.
“I’m so sorry for trying to help my friend hook up with the girl he’s clearly in love with and the girl who stares at him all day and acts like he hung the stars in the sky!”
“I’m going to hang up now,” she said coolly, not giving Chris a chance to say anything as she kept her gaze locked on Adrian, who looked like he was about to be sick. “Adrian, have you actually liked me this entire time?” she asked gently, and she watched him bite his cheek.
“I need you to define ‘liked’ and ‘this entire time’,” he settled on, and she groaned, throwing herself on the plush bed with all the papers covered in lies that had been haunting her this entire fake mission. She was no longer able to even look at Adrian, she was so frustrated. He had put her feelings through the ringer all week, only for her to find out that he had felt the same way. Apparently he had felt this way long enough for Christopher Smith of all people to try to help him out and set them up.
“You’ve liked me this whole time? Adrian, I’ve been thinking this is all pretend, and it’s been fucking with my head!” she yelled at him, moving her eyes from the ceiling to not miss his reaction, and she watched him throw his hands up in the air and begin pacing.
“I thought it was part of the mission! I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable like I’m some creep! I’m a feminist! Same thing when we’re at work! I’m not trying to harass you…ya know sexually!” he said back, eyes wide and wild.
“You thought me sitting in your lap on an empty beach was part of the mission?” she said, sitting up, as annoyed as she felt she couldn’t help but be endeared by Adrian’s clear panic. “We both knew we weren’t going to spot a single target!”
“Yeah, a really fucking good part of the mission, I jerked off in the bathroom that night thinking about that!”
“Adrian!”
“What! I fucking did! Or should we go back to lying?” he said, his tone wild as he leaned over towards her. She sighed as she watched his chest heave. His face was red, and his eyes were still having a hard time focusing on her. It was then she realized that Adrian was feeling angry or frustrated like she was - but where she was upset that they both had been so blind to the other’s feelings, he was borderlining a panic attack.
“Adrian,” she said softly, standing up so she could wrap him up in her arms. He stayed stiff for a beat, just a second, before he melted against her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tightly against him.
“I don’t want to go back to lying,” he murmured into the top of her head, and she sighed.
“This is insane,” she said, still not over what Chris had done.
“When have our friends ever been sane,” he whispered, shaking his head.
She sighed, letting herself close her eyes as she tried to digest any of this. It was absolutely insane that Chris would do this to his friend and his coworker, but there was a part of her that was thankful for Chris’s stupidity and dumbass plans.
“Remember the first night?” he asked, suddenly out of the blue. When she tilted her head, confusion over her features Adrian kept going. “When you asked me what my number one fear is?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s losing you. Well it’s losing everyone, but the more time we spend together, it’s you. The idea that one day, everyone could just be gone? That I could fuck up and lose everyone, especially after how long it took for me to have friends? and you? Whatever you call this where I pine for you and I'm your annoying colleague at worst and work friend at best? I'll take it, as long as I get to have you in my life it's worth it. So losing you terrifies me more than anything,” he said, his face open and vulnerable as his eyes searched her face, almost desperately.
“Oh, Ade.” she said softly.
“I’m serious, you’re…you’re everything to me.”
“You-”
“From the moment you interviewed, I liked you, and I liked you even more when you started putting sour candy on your desk and you were always nice to me and you laugh at my jokes like you mean it and I just…I love you.”
“Adrian,” she said, her breath caught in her throat as she searched for any inch of lying on his face, but she couldn’t find any.
“Is that too insane? Too much?” he said immediately, looking panicked. “If I had known Chris’ plan, I would’ve planned a way better speech and ran it by Ads too to make sure it was good and I didn’t say anything stupid. But then again if I knew Chris’ plan I would’ve told you immediately because we’ve been working when we should’ve been relaxing. Even if you don’t like me back we could’ve just had a normal vacation. God, I’m so sorry he did this.”
“No…it’s not insane,” she whispered, moving closer to him. A smile broke out on his face as his hands went to her waist, squeezing her gently.
“Yeah?”
“Love is…a lot for right now,” she said, his smile twitching for just a second. “But I do really like you Adrian. This whole mission has been torture because all I wanted was for all this to be real. For you to look at me and for it to be real and I just…”
“It’s always been real,” he said, voice almost sounding hoarse. “The way I look about you and think about you. I wasn’t acting, if anything I’ve been selfish this whole time.”
“The way I’ve been with you, it’s been real too,” she said, voice shaking.
“I am sorry,” he said, suddenly sounding rueful as she looked at him. Confusion all over her features. “For not being there when you needed me, I should’ve been watching and making sure you were safe. I want to do that, not only for missions but outside of all this,” he said, fidgeting with his hands, his face almost looking like he was in pain.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, realizing how hard Adrian must’ve taken her words.
“It’s not,” he said, voice firm. “But I’d like to make it up to you if you’ll let me,” he asked, his green eyes never wavering from her eyes. His intensity made her start to well up, this whole time it had been eating her up inside not knowing where she stood with Adrian and to find out that he cared the same for her, if not more, was almost too much.
“I think I can find it in me to let you try,” she teased and Adrian let out a huff. “And I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have blown up at you.”
“Nah, it was hot and I deserved it,” he said, finally a smile crossing his features as he took a step closer to her.
“Well, either way I’m still sorry,” she whispered as Adrian’s smile grew, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, wiping away a tear.
“Can I kiss you? Please can I kiss you?” he begged, and she let out a watery laugh.
“Yes, Adrian. You can kiss me,” she said and he took no time to cup both her cheeks as he was quick to smash their lips together. As far as first kisses went, it was clunky, awkward, a little too much teeth from Adrian, but she wouldn’t change it for the world.
A/N: The new Noah Kahan album has truly inspired some of my most angsty thoughts. Def don’t listen to Willing and Able and think of Jason with Dick…just don’t. Honestly the whole album is very batfamily coded to me and I can't wait to see him play tonight in concert!! (maybe it’s just because I’m re playing Arkham Knight for the first time in years and listening to the album while playing lol) Thank you @vigilantexreader for the beta!
Summary: Jason struggles with the calm and the quiet - except around his girlfriend.
Masterlist
__
Jason never thought he’d find comfort in the quiet.
The quiet tended to be when his memories floated back to dying, back to loss, back to anger, back to healing after the Lazarus Pit and being so ready for revenge when he had no option but to stew in it. The quiet had a habit of bringing back everything horrible that has happened to him.
The quiet made everyone around him uncomfortable too. It was something he noticed early on.
Dick would chatter on and on, never letting the silence catch up to them - as if it did, suddenly Jason would disappear with it.
Tim was the only one semi good at letting silence occur when he was alone with Jason, but he would still be tinkering - mind not fully there with Jason, not fully letting himself to sit in what was making them both feel uncomfortable.
Damian never hung around Jason long enough for the quiet to catch up with them. Sparring together was the closest they got, and they were both so focused in the moment that there wasn’t a long enough mental pause for either of them to really think about it. Besides, with Damian, Jason knew that all his ill feelings and spiraling was one sided. Damian had no clue really who Jason was before the Lazarus Pit. To him, Jason was always this mess. Angry and hard to read, violent, like a dog waiting to strike.
Whenever he managed to spend time in the manor, Alfred spent most of the visit telling Jason about different dramas from his various shows that even as an adult, Jason had no clue how he made time for. He knew they had the same 24 hours in a day, but Alfred always made it seem so easy to get everything done. He would make Jason a comforting cup of tea as the two chatted over books.
Bruce…was Bruce. Jason wasn’t comfortable being around him with or without the silence. He struggled to find any words that made sense that showed how he felt without feeling like a defensive child.
It took a long time for those feelings to grow smaller. They never really went away, and the longer the quiet lasted, the harder it was for him to get out of it. He wanted to be better with them all, he wanted to be able to sit with them and just let the quiet rush over them. For them to know that he understood the pain and for him to know that they understood his pain, even if they’d never truly feel what he went through.
However, he was growing to appreciate the quiet when he was around her. It was different at first, and in fact they were on their fourth date when he had started feeling antsy about it. It was the longest he had lasted dating…well, anyone, so far, and he had been rattling back and forth between talking about nothing and clenching his teeth, trying to feel normal with her.
All it took was a tentative hand on top of his at dinner and a smile.
“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We can just sit, Jay,” she said gently, and he looked at her with wide eyes.
“But…we’re on a date. We should talk,” he said firmly, picking at his food with his other hand, trying to force his body and mind to feel normal as his eyes drifted to where her soft hand was on his calloused and scarred one.
“I’m happy to just sit with you,” she said with a simple shrug as she dug back into her own food, and it was like her words lifted something in Jason’s chest. Something he didn’t even know was there until she took care of it.
It was after that he had no intentions of losing her, and she seemed to feel the same way about him.
It was new, it was different, but it felt right.
When he was ready, she created space in her home for him. A spare toothbrush, the tea he liked best in the cupboard, an extra pillow on her bed for his back. A teasing smile whenever he groaned getting up first thing in the morning.
The way he would come home, exhausted from patrol, and she’d give him a small smile, press her lips to his cheek, play with his helmet hair, and ask no questions. He’d watch her eyes give him a once over, just making sure he wasn’t actively bleeding or requiring medical assistance from her first aid kit that had grown since they started dating. Once she was satisfied that he was okay, she would help him get ready for bed, making the hard self care easy.
“Hey,” he said softly as he walked into her apartment, immediately greeted by her on the couch in her comfy pajamas curled up with a book that Jason had recommended to her a few weeks ago. The sight of it caused his lips to twitch up despite the long day weighing down on him. He moved as fast as his tired body could to take off his jacket and take his shoes off so he could join her on the couch, desperate to be close to her.
“No patrol tonight?” she asked gently, putting her bookmark in her book before he practically collapsed on top of her, sighing as her hands immediately started playing with his hair.
“No,” he said simply, having no energy to explain that Dick was back from Bludhaven and helping Tim with destroying some weapons caches that the two were more than qualified to handle. Jason would even go as far as to make the argument that Tim could handle it solo, but ever since Jason had come back (or hell for all he knew it could’ve been even before that), Bruce had started operating in a rule of two for all of them. Never wanting one of them to be out solo if it could be helped.
“Hm, that’s good at least,” she said gently, shuffling slightly underneath him to get more comfortable. He smiled as he listened to her heartbeat.
“Do you want to do anything tonight?” he asked, voice already sounding exhausted as she laughed.
“I’m in ugly pajamas and you are clearly worn out. No baby, let’s just have a quiet night in, okay?” she said, reaching back over for her book. She placed it so was resting partially in her hand and partially on his back as he chuckled, eyes heavy as she started reading again.
“Okay, that sounds nice,” he said gently, a smile playing on his lips as he listened to all the small sounds in the room. Her breathing, her heartbeat, the general sounds of Gotham outside her window, his own breathing.
But no words. No pressure to try to make the silence comfortable.
synopsis: You and Adrian talk things out, and though things are still tense, a major development in the case leaves you and the rest of the pack hopeful that this nightmare will end soon.
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, omegaverse dynamics, alpha!Adrian, omega!reader, more overprotective!Adrian, a tiny but of smut (hello angry sex) but mostly plot
word count: 4.2k
notes: sorry not sorry for last week LMAO we were due for some angst, please forgive me. things can only go up from here, right? Thank you as always to my beta readers @embeanwrites and @snowyathena
Masterlist | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen
Adrian gives you space that night, for a few hours. At least, that’s what he tells himself. That he’s giving you space. There’s also part of him that just can’t bring himself to face you. But he also can’t bear to stay that far. So he sits on the floor outside the bedroom door, and he listens.
He hears dresser drawers opening and closing, hears the ensuite shower running, hears the rustling afterward as you pull your pajamas on and adjust the covers.
He doesn’t deserve to sleep in bed beside you tonight, but he’s a selfish bastard. Once you fall silent, once you’re lying in bed alone, he creaks open the door carefully and waits. If you yell at him—if you tell him to stay away—then he will. He’ll sleep on the floor right here outside the door.
You don’t shout. You don’t even look up. He knows you’re not asleep yet, but you stay quiet anyway, and don’t protest or kick him the hell out when he slides beneath the covers next to you. He lets out a shaky exhale of relief. You’re mad, yes, and maybe you haven’t forgiven him, but—you still love him enough, trust him enough, to let him into your nest. He hasn’t fucked this up beyond repair.
But then you roll onto your side, away from him. Putting distance between your bodies, instead of curling into him like you usually do. And he knows he has a lot of apologizing to do for what he did tonight. The things he said.
He swallows past the lump in his throat and lays down next to you, facing in your direction, watching the rise and fall of your back as you breathe. He chokes down a desperate plea for forgiveness he doesn’t deserve right now, and then he flops onto his back and stares at the ceiling, hating himself, until sheer exhaustion lulls him to sleep.
You aren’t in bed when Adrian wakes up in the morning.
He’s moved in his sleep, subconsciously scooted closer to your side of the bed. His arm is draped over the empty space where you slept, hand clutching at the sheets, hugging your pillow to his chest instead of you. His heart twists violently, and he’s struck with the same terrible fear and guilt that he felt last night as the memory of your argument rushes back.
But—you’re still here. Still home, at least. Adrian sits up and strains to listen through the tiny crack of the open bedroom door. He can hear you padding around the kitchen, something sizzling in a frying pan, the clatter of plates as you take them out of the cabinets.
He gets up and walks toward the sound. You immediately look up at him when he enters the kitchen, and he stops in his tracks like a spooked animal. If you want him to, he’ll turn right around and walk back to the bedroom. Give you some space.
But then he realizes—there are two plates in front of you. And you’re loading them up with chocolate chip pancakes, his favorite. Something hopeful lights up inside him as you push a plate across the counter in his direction hesitantly. Your guard is still up, and it kills him. That you feel like you have to be on guard around him.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts, eyes welling with tears as he stares at your chocolate-chip-pancake olive branch. You’re offering him a grace right now that he doesn’t feel like he deserves. “I’m—I’m—I didn’t mean to—command you, or control you, like that, baby, I didn’t—I’m so sorry—” His voice cracks.
Your face softens a bit when you see how torn up about it he is.
“I know you didn’t mean it,” you say. “I know that, Alpha. But—” You bite your lip. “But you still did.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, a broken whisper. “For—for doing that, for yelling, for all of it. I don’t want to fight. Not with you. I’ll fight the rest of the world with my bare hands every day for the rest of my life, I’ll kill anyone I have to, as long as I get to come home to you at the end of the day, I never want you to doubt that, I—”
“I don’t doubt that you love me, Adrian. I have never doubted that.” You pause and let that sink in, easing some of the tension in his shoulders.
Adrian watches you talk with wide, wet eyes and a trembling lower lip. Because he knows that whatever you’re feeling, it’s not that simple. And he’s not emotionally intelligent enough to read your mind, not when it comes to things like this. So he stays quiet and waits.
“I do doubt sometimes that…that you trust me,” you finally say hesitantly.
“What?”
“You fight for us all the time,” you say. “I love that you fight for what you think is right all the time. It’s one of my favorite things about you. You go out on patrols because you want to make our city, our home, safer. You go out on missions because you want to make the whole world safer. You are fighting, all the time, for me and our pack and the whole fucking universe. But you don’t trust me to fight with you.”
“That’s not—” Adrian protests, but you hold a hand up and his mouth snaps shut.
“I was so…” You pause and try to puzzle the words out. “I went on that mission with Emilia, and I felt more important, more useful, than I have in months. I felt good. And I came back and all I wanted was for you to be proud of me, but instead you were mad at me.”
You go quiet and look at Adrian expectantly, and he realizes it’s his turn to talk. He takes a moment to process what you said, turning his own response over in his mind before speaking.
“I was terrified yesterday,” he says. “When I got back to the office and I couldn’t find you, and then—when Economos said you were—I just kept turning over every possibility in my mind. Everything that could go wrong. You being hurt, and me not being there.”
“I live like that all the time,” you point out. “I watch you walk out into the field and pull risky stunts and get yourself shot constantly.”
“It’s different,” he starts. “I can heal. And you know where I am. I always, always tell you. The not knowing—” He swallows roughly. “That kills me.”
“That’s fair,” you allow. “I should have told you. I’m sorry. I knew that you would freak out, and it would distract you on your mission, and I didn’t want you to get hurt. So I chose not to tell you, and that made everything worse. I won’t do that again. I promise.”
“You won’t go on another mission?”
“That is not what I said,” you say. “I am not going to sit back. Not on this.”
“The rest of us have it handled,” Adrian insists.
“You aren’t listening to me,” you say sharply. “Adrian, I am not just…a prize you get for doing a good job. I’m not going to stay here shrouded in bubble wrap while the rest of you fight. If I am needed out in the field—and I am needed out in the field, at least until Fleury gets back on his feet—I will go. I want to, and I deserve to, fight for our future and the future of our pack just like you do.”
Adrian is quiet for a moment as he soaks in your words.
“You do deserve to fight,” he says. “But I also need you to tell me when you do. The not knowing…I can’t live like that.”
“You’re right,” you admit. “When I’m out on a mission—I won’t keep it from you. You’ll know where I am. I’ll text you updates, the same way that you text me while you’re gone. I’m sorry, baby. I was trying to keep you from worrying, and I just made everything worse. I promise I won’t do that again, okay?”
“Okay.” Adrian swallows. He’s already apologized, but—he needs to say it again. “I’m sorry, too. For freaking out. For yelling at you. For commanding you last night. I never wanted—I never wanted to be like my brother, and here I am being—”
You sigh. “You’re not like Gut, Adrian. You’re not. I know you’re not. You did something hurtful to me last night, and I just—lashed out. I said something hurtful because I knew it would hurt you. You’re a good man, and a good Alpha. I just need you to…loosen up, a little bit.”
“Okay,” he whispers.
“Are we okay?” you check, and Adrian hates how hesitant you sound.
“We’re okay,” he says softly. “We’re more than okay. I love you.”
Your hand comes up to his face, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck, and you tilt your chin up. He takes the invitation, leaning down to kiss you, deep and thorough, roughly hauling you up into his arms. Your legs wrapping around his waist. He’s hard, pressing insistently against your center as he speed-walks to the bedroom and shoves you down onto the bed.
Adrian strips off your clothes and touches every inch of skin he can reach, silently reassuring himself that you’re here with him, that you aren’t hurt. Then he rips his own clothes off and chucks them aside, wearing an expression you’ve never seen before. Some complex mix of desire and fury. But still, when he grabs at your hips and pulls you against him, he waits. You nod, but he shakes his head.
“Words, Omega,” he says, voice rough. “Because I’m not in the mood to play nice right now.”
The tip of his cock drags through your wetness, and you lift your hips until he notches at your entrance.
“Fuck me,” you say. “Do it. I can take it, I can—”
Adrian shoves inside you in a rough thrust, manhandling you in a way he never has before. You gasp at the sudden intrusion and clutch at the bedsheets, as he rails into you, deep, erratic thrusts that light your nerves on fire and have him grunting like an animal.
You touch him right back, but it’s not the soft touch he’s used to. It’s your nails dragging down his back, it’s you biting at his lips, it’s your fingers gripping him so hard that he thinks you might actually leave a bruise that lasts, for once. It feels like you’re still fighting him, here in your bed, even as your legs wrap around his waist and drag him in deeper.
“Never again,” he grunts, eyes watery and red. “You are never fucking doing that to me again, do you hear me?”
Every touch makes him feel desperate. He’s never loved anyone or anything the way he loves you, he thinks, as you find your release and your head tilts back. His eyes land on your neck, on your mating mark, and he can’t help himself. As he comes, his teeth sink in, break the skin all over again, because some Alpha part of him needs to remind you who you fucking belong to.
You’d made him a promise, today. That you wouldn’t go on a mission without telling him again. He’s just grateful you didn’t ask him to make any promises in return.
Because if you did, he’s not sure he’d be able to keep them. And he thinks you can tell.
Things between you and Adrian still feel raw when you return to work on Monday. Adrian is itching to reach for your hand to hold, but…you didn’t let him open the car door for you like he usually does. You just got out and started walking.
You might have apologized to each other, you might have tried to fuck it out of your systems, but the underlying tension that caused the whole blowup argument is still there, simmering, volatile, just beneath the surface of your every interaction.
It doesn’t help that everyone stares at the two of you as you walk in the door.
“Fleury,” you say, when you see him seated at his desk. “What the hell are you doing here? You got shot a couple days ago.”
“Last time you got shot, you and Adrian had a midnight rendezvous in the middle of his first rut,” Fleury retorts. “I think I’ll survive sitting at my desk for a bit.”
“Hmph,” you mutter. “Come on. My office. Let me look you over, at least.”
“Good thing he’s in a rolling chair, huh?” Ads says brightly, trying desperately to erase the tense atmosphere that followed you and Adrian like a stormy cloud. She starts pushing Fleury in the direction of the infirmary.
Adrian watches you walk away, pressing his lips together in a thin line.
Chris walks up to him, a little wary. “Hey man. All good?”
“All good,” Adrian lies, entirely unconvincing.
“I’m sorry,” Emilia says, right behind Chris. “I knew it was a bad idea before we even left, but—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Adrian grits out. Emilia nods.
“Okay. I understand. But just so you know…she did a great job. Remembered all her training. I don’t know if she told you, but she’s the one who got the kill shot. Right to the head, from a dozen yards away.”
Adrian swallows. You hadn’t mentioned that. He’d known that you were practicing, putting in your time in the weapons room, sparring with Emilia and Rip. It settles him a little bit, hearing from Emilia, perhaps the most capable agent in the pack, that you’d done well. Maybe you would have told him yourself, if he hadn’t freaked out. He imagines it—you coming home, wide and smiling, excited to tell him about your killshot, wanting him to be proud of you. And he is proud. He’s proud, and he loves you, and he—he can’t live without you. That’s what it comes down to.
He’s proud of you, but—how could he ever tell you that? If he did, you’d take it as an open invitation. To go on more missions. And that’s the last thing he wants.
He’ll go out and kill bad guys any day without blinking, but when it comes to you doing the same thing—it makes him afraid. He’s a fucking coward when it comes to you.
“Okay,” is all he says, when he realizes Chris and Emilia are waiting for him to respond. “Thank you. For looking after her.”
“Always,” Emilia nods. “That’s what Alphas do. We protect our pack members.”
“You know,” Chris starts, but he’s interrupted by the door to the conference room slamming open. John stumbles out, his laptop in one hand, an empty Redbull can in the other. There are dark circles under his eyes, and it looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.
“Jesus, Economos, you look like shit,” Emilia says.
“I’ve managed to hack my way into every file that was on Dev’s computer,” John says, eyes wide and wild. “And I did it. I found an address.”
“An address?” Chris repeats. “You don’t mean—the address? Sullivan’s headquarters?”
“Fuck yeah, that’s exactly the address I mean,” John says.
Adrian’s heart starts thundering. Finally, he thinks desperately. Finally, I can do something about these assholes once and for all, and you’ll be safe, everyone will be safe.
You, Ads, and Fleury filter back into the room.
“What’s going on?” Ads asks, looking between everyone.
“John found an address!” Chris says.
“What? Where?” Ads cries.
“It’s taken me a while to get through the cloud drive. Leon is the owner of this file. It’s just shared with Dev. His personal document security is fucking shit. I can’t believe none of them have called him on this. It’s sloppy, it’s lazy—”
“Get to the point, John,” Emilia demands. “Where are they?”
“Sorry, did you spend several weeks glued to a computer? Let me have my fucking dramatic reveal, Harcourt! I deserve that much!”
“We don’t have time for drama right now! Spill!”
“Star City,” John says. “You know that asshole Green Lantern?”
“I met him once. Dresses like he’s Robin Hood at a Renaissance Faire. Fucking nerd,” Chris says.
“You’ve been to a Renaissance Faire?” Fleury raises an eyebrow.
“Adrian made me go!”
“Everybody fucking focus!”
The entire room falls quiet and stares at Adrian. Because he has never been the one to ask everyone to focus. In fact, he’s usually the one fucking around so much he gets yelled at. But now, he takes a deep, shaky breath, looks directly at John, and says, “Explain. Star City. Where in Star City? How big is the building? Do they live there, or just work there? What—”
A hand settles on his arm, squeezing softly. Adrian stops and looks at you. His heart feels like it’s climbing up his throat just so he can puke it out onto the floor, but the churning inside him stops when your hand trails down his arm to entwine your fingers. It’s the first time you’ve touched him like this, soft and gentle, since you argued.
“It’s okay,” you say quietly. “We have time. We can make a plan. When Sasha and Rip get back from their mission, we can all go. Together.”
For the first time ever, the word grates on his nerves. Together.
The plan is simple.
“We’ll do some quick recon,” Ads says. “We send out two people to observe for a day. Make note of their routines, the weak points in their security. And then we go back with the entire team and ambush them, the same way they fucking ambushed us.”
You’re listening carefully, eyes bright and glittering. Adrian knows exactly what has you so enraptured. The entire team, Chris says.
Adrian grinds his teeth. There’s no way he can talk you into sitting this one out.
“Who are we sending?” John asks. “For the recon?”
“Me and Chris,” Emilia says.
“Recon work is not my speciality,” Chris frowns. “Judomaster would be the best choice. We can just wait for him and Bordeaux to get back in three days, and he can go with you.”
Emilia tries not to show it, but she’s pissy. Adrian would snort if he was in the mood to be amused right now. She’s feeling just as impatient as he is, apparently.
But surprisingly, she doesn’t fight Chris on it.
“Fine,” she says. She glances around the room at everyone. Her eyes meet Adrian’s, and his brow furrows. “We’ll wait.”
“No,” Adrian says suddenly. He stares daggers at Chris. “Aren’t we supposed to protect the pack? You told me—that night when I wanted to kill my fucking douchebag brother. You told me to funnel my energy toward this instead. To protect us from the big threats. The big threat is here, and we finally know where we have to go to take care of it. We should not be waiting. Even if all we do is eliminate Leon Sullivan—we’ll leave the rest of his team scrambling, without a leader.”
“They’re not a pack, like we are,” Chris says. “This isn’t a cut-the-head-off-the-monster situation. They don’t need to run off and find another Alpha and reorganize. They’re all lone wolves. The only option is to take them out all at once, or keep picking them off like we have been.”
Adrian stews silently, but doesn’t argue further.
“For now, we can start prepping. Get together the weapons and ammo we’ll need,” Chris continues. “We’ll make sure we’re twice as armed as we usually are, just in case. We can check on our weapons and ammo stock? Put in a rush order on anything that’s damaged, or that we’re running low on?”
“Good idea,” you say.
“I’ll try to see if I can find a floor plan of the building,” John says. “It looks from the outside like a warehouse. If it was ever listed on a real estate site, we can get a good idea of what it looks like on the inside, too.”
“Then everyone can head home and get some rest,” Ads says. “It’s been a long couple of weeks. I want everyone on top of their game before we head out to Star City. We can’t afford to make any mistakes.”
Adrian looks at you. You’re already watching him.
“We can do this,” you assure him with a smile.
“I know we can,” he says. He tries to smile back. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Everyone heads their separate ways after the meeting. You head off to the infirmary to pack med kits for everyone. Emilia, Ads, and John work on sketching out a layout of the building. Chris starts heading to the weapons room, and Adrian, on autopilot, just follows his best friend, his mind reeling.
He keeps turning the address over in his mind. The names and faces of the enemy.
He keeps thinking of the way Emilia looked at him. We’ll wait, she’d said.
Adrian doesn’t want to wait. He wants to go now.
Who’s going to stop him?
He watches Chris start boxing up weapons to bring to the van, and he starts doing the same. As he works, he tucks a few extra guns and grenades into his own bag, right next to his Vigilante suit.
“You’re quiet,” Chris comments. Adrian just hums noncommittally. “Adrian. Look at me.”
Adrian glances up and meets his best friend’s eyes.
“I don’t know what fucked-up shit is going on inside your head right now,” Chris says. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and your Omega, or what. But whatever rash, dangerous shit you’re thinking about doing, drop it. Now. We have a plan. Stick to the plan.”
“I will,” Adrian says. The words taste bitter.
In the months since he’s become an Alpha, Adrian has always kept his initial promise to Chris and Emilia. Never disobeyed his pack leaders. He doesn’t want to be pack Alpha, he just wants to be your Alpha.
But right now—he doesn’t want to fucking listen to Chris’s advice or orders from the others. He can’t. There’s something inside him that won’t let him stand by right now. He can’t explain it, but he needs to act.
When you both go home that night, you can feel the anxious tension radiating from him as he sits stiffly in the driver’s seat of the Vigilante-mobile, as he robotically eats his dinner without really tasting anything, as he stares mindlessly at the television and doesn’t absorb a single bit of information.
“Why don’t we just go to bed?” you suggest, when you see him zoning out for the tenth time in half an hour. Adrian just silently nods, still pensive, still thinking.
He watches you go through the motions of your nighttime routine with escalating anxiety. He lets you shave his face, as has become your routine, a soft little shared moment that he always treasures. He feels your soft hands on his face, and your lips on his cheek when you kiss him, and he closes his eyes and makes his decision.
As you shuffle into bed, he stands on his side and just watches you get comfortable. You look up at him, confused.
“Come on,” you say, patting the empty space beside you. It’s an inviting sight. One that is so fucking hard for him to resist, but—
“I don’t think I can sleep,” he says. “I think—maybe I’ll go on patrol. Burn off some energy. Is that okay?”
Your face softens into a smile. A concerned smile, with your brow furrowing just a little between your eyes, but a smile nonetheless, which makes his heart clench. “Of course that’s okay, Ade. If that will make you feel better, of course.”
“I think it will.”
“Do you want me to come?” you ask.
“No, that’s—no,” he says, shaking his head. “Go to sleep, I don’t want to be the reason you’re up late. You’ve been so tired. I saw you yawn like a billion times today.”
You’ve been exhausted, it’s true. Trying to take care of everyone, manage everyone’s emotions. You chew on the inside of your cheek worriedly. You usually like being awake for Adrian when he gets home, to nurse any wounds from his patrols, no matter how insignificant. But he sees the moment you give in.
“Okay,” you say, and Adrian feels a sick, guilty sense of relief wash over him. “You promise you’ll wake me when you get back? Let me look you over?”
You don’t suspect a thing, and that makes him feel a thousand times worse. You trust him so fucking much, and he doesn’t deserve it. Because he’s lying to your face right now. He wants to throw up. But he swallows it down, all those terrible feelings, all the guilt and the lies, and says—
“I will wake you when I get back.”
You watch him change into the Vigilante suit, and he gives you one last wobbly smile before he walks out the door. Then he bends down to kiss you, long and hard and deep.
“I love you, Omega. So fucking much.”
“I love you too, Alpha,” you whisper. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Adrian can’t bring himself to say anything in return.
Then goes on a quick patrol. Kills a graffiti artist. It makes him feel better. A little less like he’s lying to you, at least, because he did go on patrol.
She’s still in her first year at Checkmate and getting partnered with Adrian on a mission seems like a trap - especially since she’s fighting her crush on him and now they have to play newlyweds with virtually no support from the others. What will they do as nothing seems to ever go right on this mission?
Masterlist, Ch 1
Chapter 11: Dance Hall
Thank you @vigilantexreader and @kakyoweenie for the edits!
It was the best sleep she’d had the whole trip. She almost hated to admit it. Maybe it was because she was no longer anxious that in her sleep she would wind up making him feel uncomfortable. Turns out the push they needed for good rest was a storm and the pillow divider abandoned on the floor.
Adrian’s weight was familiar as she started to wake up, opening her eyes to look at the window where sun was streaming in. Yesterday’s storm was long gone. She glanced down and his arm, still slightly sunburned, was stiff around her.
“I can tell you’re awake,” she murmured, voice still sleepy, and Adrian squeezed her tighter.
“No, I’m not,” he mumbled, voice considerably more awake than hers as he buried his face in the back of her head. She felt him take a deep breath. “I think today we just do the club, not dinner and the club.”
“What’s the thought process?” she asked, finally prying herself out of Adrian’s grip. She stood up and stretched while Adrian groaned from the loss of contact. He flopped over to where she had been laying and looked up at her, his eyes locked on her the whole time.
“Well, we still have tomorrow, right? We should split up the two leads in case we don’t find anything today, and then we still have something to do tomorrow,” he said. She frowned.
“So club tonight, dinner tomorrow, and just hope that between that we get something?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think club tonight, too, because if I have to go to a club and then the following day get on an airplane I’m going to shoot myself,” he said, sounding serious, and she laughed.
“I get it, a day’s break between them,” she said, shaking her head as she left Adrian in the bed and got out her clothes for the day.
“Well, if we’re only doing the club, you can come back to bed?” he suggested, voice almost hopeful and tinted with a question rather than a statement. God, she wanted nothing more than to take him up on that offer. To get back into bed and maybe this time be a little braver - face him, or lay on top of his chest listening to his heartbeat. Maybe his hand would rub her back and slowly travel lower and lower-
“Adrian, we still should get breakfast and wander around today to see if we find anything,” she cut her own thoughts off, heat rising on her face as she pulled out an outfit that should suffice for the day and the club tonight.
“I guess that’s a good point,” he mumbled and got out of bed. Holding her clothes, she gave him a good once over. His skin was significantly less pink but the burn still looked uncomfortable.
“How’s your sunburn?”
“Hurts, debating if a cold shower is worth it,” he muttered as he got out of bed and went over to his own suitcase. “What do you want to do today besides the club?”
“Maybe we do breakfast at the hotel restaurant instead? See if we can find any of the targets,” she tried. She watched Adrian roll his neck, clearly debating her idea and she had to force herself to look away because all she wanted was to sink her teeth into his neck.
“What if we go to the gym instead? Spar and watch people on the treadmills?” he asked.
“I don’t think sparring is a good idea when we are undercover. Especially if the reason we might not be finding our targets is because they’re on to us.”
“You think someone is on to us?” he asked, sounding like he was in disbelief. She sighed.
“No, but I just want this to be something other than us being bad at our job,” she said with a frown. Adrian clicked his tongue.
“We are not bad at our jobs. You are not bad at your job. I’m telling you, we have to be missing something, okay?” he said firmly. She smiled at him, the look on his face deadly serious.
“Okay,” she said with a nod, and he seemed to accept her response.
“Okay, breakfast at the hotel and then a quick workout? You could just watch me!” Adrian said, waggling his eyebrows up and down as she awkwardly laughed, worried that Adrian suddenly knew exactly what she was thinking about his neck as she grabbed her clothes and made her way into the bathroom. “I’m just saying, we’re on our honeymoon, you should objectify me a little bit.”
She fought the urge to tell him that she had been and he was either too clueless or blind to notice.
“Oh, just a little bit?” she said with a laugh. Adrian’s face split into a huge grin.
“I mean, if you want to objectify me a lot you can do that,” he said with a shrug. She rolled her eyes and closed the bathroom door. “Only if you wanted to though! I’m not forcing you,” he said through the bathroom door and she started getting dressed for the day.
“I know you’re not,” she shouted through the door. “I’d love to objectify you while you work out at the gym,” she teased. She heard Adrian mutter ‘score’ under his breath, and she almost had the perfect picture of him in her mind doing his ‘famous butt dance’ she had seen after too many drinks at a staff outing. She probably spent too much time getting ready for the day they were planning. She normally wouldn’t wear club outfits or do her hair so nice if they were just wandering around, but she knew if they were going to make today count they needed to be out of the room as much as possible, so she took her time showering, doing her hair, and doing light and simple makeup. It wasn’t her best club look, but it was the best she can do with how much they needed to get done for the day.
True to her promise, shortly after getting ready and enjoying a breakfast that Adrian did not appreciate as much as the buffet (he only told her fifty times, complaining about not being able to get a little of everything, to which she reminded him it was all inclusive and he could just do that), she spent the rest of her morning with a drink in hand as she watched Adrian work out.
She had to immediately assume that he was partially showing off, spending most of the time shirtless and clearly flexing for her. His eyes flickered from the equipment to her, making sure she was actually watching him, almost reminding her of when little kids fight for their parents’ attention to show them some of the lamest tricks in existence. She felt giddy just watching him and it was clear he felt giddy as she just watched him. Her head was buzzing at the thought that he was doing all of this just for her. She fought back a laugh as he clearly tried showing off his back as he stretched and flexed for her entertainment and tried to watch her, only for someone to run into him and spill a smoothie all over him.
“Oh my god,” he said, turning to look at her, torso covered in the pink sticky liquid as he grimaced.
“I think you got a little something…” she said smiling as she gestured towards his torso. He frowned and rolled his eyes.
“Ugh, I’m going to be sticky all day now!” he whined, and she laughed.
“Go take a shower and I’ll meet you by the pool okay?” she asked, walking up to Adrian. She laughed as he pouted, she was quick to cup his cheek with one hand and kiss his other cheek. Her thumb rubbing the apple of his cheek as his lips twitched.
“Okay,” he said softly, walking away before swiftly turning on his heel to come back to kiss her cheek. She laughed at his goofiness as she watched him walk off. It was so easy to play up this part with him, but once she was alone she was consumed with the thought that this is all fake. Every touch, every glance, every smile, it was all fake. Just for work and nothing more. The only genuine moment she had was the previous night, when he wrapped himself around her and held her all night long.
The rest of the day passed by normally. The two continued playing up the newlywed bit throughout the day waiting patiently for the club to open. Their eyes on every guest but with no luck of them matching anything on the dossier. Well, she was being patient. Adrian was antsy. It didn’t take much puttering around for the time to fly and for them to find themselves in the brightly colored and glowing club. Her simple look from earlier looked severely underdressed, but at least it was better than her other day to day outfits and since Adrian was in a similar boat they looked out of place together.
She grimaced the moment they walked in, her arm looped into Adrian’s as she shuffled in her dress and took in all the people.
Way too many people to even begin looking through.
Adrian seemed to feel her worry as he led them towards the bar, letting her order her own drink while he ordered a nonalcoholic beverage.
“Why don’t you get something? One drink isn’t going to kill you,” she teased, leaning against the bar and looking up at him as he smiled.
“Just prefer it, want to keep sharp for you,” he said with a shrug. “You can have as much as you want though, I’ll watch out for you.”
“That’s really sweet Ade, but I’ll probably just stick with the one,” she said, thanking the bartender as she handed them their drinks.
“Are you positive Economos knew what he was talking about?” Adrian whispered over his drink, a Shirley temple. His white linen shirt positively glowed under the club lights. She moved to lean against the bar, taking a sip of her drink and taking in all the people.
“I mean, if you were doing sketchy business…” she started.
“A club is a great place to do it,” Adrian said, nodding, almost sounding like he was reciting a rule book. She had noticed that he carried around a notebook when he was patrolling as Vigilante. She smiled and thought about Adrian pausing his busy night protecting Evergreen to scribble down some notes or a doodle. “What’s your preferred game plan on this one?” She sighed and looked around, biting the inside of her cheek while she debated.
“You think you can keep watch near the bar and I’ll go dance?” she asked, and Adrian looked at her with wide eyes.
“You want to split up?”
“No, I just think if I’m in the middle of the club, I’d like someone looking out who has an almost full scope of the place.”
“Then I should get in the vents!”
“You’re not getting in the vents. This is not a spy movie,” she said with a laugh, and Adrian rolled his eyes, but an easy smile rested on his face.
“But it could be,” Adrian said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was simply that easy.
“You stay here, watch my back for me?” she said, setting her drink on the bar.
“Always,” he said, voice tight and focused, almost as if he’s insulted that she felt she had to ask him for anything. She tried to not read too much into it as she began making her way on the dance floor watching the people pass by. Her eyes cataloged people carefully, but no one stuck out to her from any part of the dossier.
It didn’t take long for her to lose track of Adrian as he remained at the bar, but she trusted that he had his eye on her, ready to step in if she found herself in any trouble. She turned around to meet the eyes of a man who looked vaguely familiar smiling at her.
Alarm bells started going off in her head; he did just look like some guy, but if he looked somewhat familiar, maybe that meant he was from the dossier, and she was desperate for that to be true.
“Hey beautiful,” he said, smile still beaming. “Can I dance with you?”
“Oh!” she said, turning towards the direction Adrian went but unable to find him. She cursed herself for asking to split up. Adrian would be able to confirm if he was in the dossier.
“Well?” he asked, eyebrows raised as his blue eyes took in her body. She felt her skin begin to crawl from his look, but she knew better than anyone not to raise a fuss - especially when she had a mission to take care of.
“Of course,” she said, smiling gently. “What brings you to Florida?” she asked, cursing her eagerness, but felt lucky he laughed it off.
“I’m on vacation, what about you?” he said, laughing brightly, almost sounding fake and practiced. It almost sounded like Adrian’s laugh, but wrong.
“I’m on my honeymoon!” she said, keeping her voice relaxed and easy.
“Where’s your husband then? Don’t tell me he left a beautiful girl to dance on her own?” he asked, hands suddenly pulling at her waist and tugging her into him as she gasped, hands flying to his chest to steady herself.
“He’s around here somewhere,” she said vaguely, craning her neck to try to get a look at the bar, but he spun her right around.
“Well, if you were mine I don’t think I’d ever let you out of my sight,” he said, pulling her closer and nibbling at her ear. She shuddered and tried to squirm away, laughing to play it off, but the man’s grip remained tight.
“Oh! He was somewhere around the bar, I’m sure he’s looking for me so I should-”
“He’s not here, beautiful. You should worry more about who’s in front of you,” he said, words heavy as her panic began to rise, his hand moving to cup her ass, she gasped as he squeezed. She didn’t understand where on earth Adrian could’ve gone off too. He said he’d watch her back, why wasn’t he-
“Her husband’s right here,” Adrian’s voice said behind her, sounding cold.
She’s still in her first year at Checkmate and getting partnered with Adrian on a mission seems like a trap - especially since she’s fighting her crush on him and now they have to play newlyweds with virtually no support from the others. What will they do as nothing seems to ever go right on this mission?
Masterlist, Ch 1
Chapter 11: Dance Hall
Thank you @vigilantexreader and @kakyoweenie for the edits!
It was the best sleep she’d had the whole trip. She almost hated to admit it. Maybe it was because she was no longer anxious that in her sleep she would wind up making him feel uncomfortable. Turns out the push they needed for good rest was a storm and the pillow divider abandoned on the floor.
Adrian’s weight was familiar as she started to wake up, opening her eyes to look at the window where sun was streaming in. Yesterday’s storm was long gone. She glanced down and his arm, still slightly sunburned, was stiff around her.
“I can tell you’re awake,” she murmured, voice still sleepy, and Adrian squeezed her tighter.
“No, I’m not,” he mumbled, voice considerably more awake than hers as he buried his face in the back of her head. She felt him take a deep breath. “I think today we just do the club, not dinner and the club.”
“What’s the thought process?” she asked, finally prying herself out of Adrian’s grip. She stood up and stretched while Adrian groaned from the loss of contact. He flopped over to where she had been laying and looked up at her, his eyes locked on her the whole time.
“Well, we still have tomorrow, right? We should split up the two leads in case we don’t find anything today, and then we still have something to do tomorrow,” he said. She frowned.
“So club tonight, dinner tomorrow, and just hope that between that we get something?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think club tonight, too, because if I have to go to a club and then the following day get on an airplane I’m going to shoot myself,” he said, sounding serious, and she laughed.
“I get it, a day’s break between them,” she said, shaking her head as she left Adrian in the bed and got out her clothes for the day.
“Well, if we’re only doing the club, you can come back to bed?” he suggested, voice almost hopeful and tinted with a question rather than a statement. God, she wanted nothing more than to take him up on that offer. To get back into bed and maybe this time be a little braver - face him, or lay on top of his chest listening to his heartbeat. Maybe his hand would rub her back and slowly travel lower and lower-
“Adrian, we still should get breakfast and wander around today to see if we find anything,” she cut her own thoughts off, heat rising on her face as she pulled out an outfit that should suffice for the day and the club tonight.
“I guess that’s a good point,” he mumbled and got out of bed. Holding her clothes, she gave him a good once over. His skin was significantly less pink but the burn still looked uncomfortable.
“How’s your sunburn?”
“Hurts, debating if a cold shower is worth it,” he muttered as he got out of bed and went over to his own suitcase. “What do you want to do today besides the club?”
“Maybe we do breakfast at the hotel restaurant instead? See if we can find any of the targets,” she tried. She watched Adrian roll his neck, clearly debating her idea and she had to force herself to look away because all she wanted was to sink her teeth into his neck.
“What if we go to the gym instead? Spar and watch people on the treadmills?” he asked.
“I don’t think sparring is a good idea when we are undercover. Especially if the reason we might not be finding our targets is because they’re on to us.”
“You think someone is on to us?” he asked, sounding like he was in disbelief. She sighed.
“No, but I just want this to be something other than us being bad at our job,” she said with a frown. Adrian clicked his tongue.
“We are not bad at our jobs. You are not bad at your job. I’m telling you, we have to be missing something, okay?” he said firmly. She smiled at him, the look on his face deadly serious.
“Okay,” she said with a nod, and he seemed to accept her response.
“Okay, breakfast at the hotel and then a quick workout? You could just watch me!” Adrian said, waggling his eyebrows up and down as she awkwardly laughed, worried that Adrian suddenly knew exactly what she was thinking about his neck as she grabbed her clothes and made her way into the bathroom. “I’m just saying, we’re on our honeymoon, you should objectify me a little bit.”
She fought the urge to tell him that she had been and he was either too clueless or blind to notice.
“Oh, just a little bit?” she said with a laugh. Adrian’s face split into a huge grin.
“I mean, if you want to objectify me a lot you can do that,” he said with a shrug. She rolled her eyes and closed the bathroom door. “Only if you wanted to though! I’m not forcing you,” he said through the bathroom door and she started getting dressed for the day.
“I know you’re not,” she shouted through the door. “I’d love to objectify you while you work out at the gym,” she teased. She heard Adrian mutter ‘score’ under his breath, and she almost had the perfect picture of him in her mind doing his ‘famous butt dance’ she had seen after too many drinks at a staff outing. She probably spent too much time getting ready for the day they were planning. She normally wouldn’t wear club outfits or do her hair so nice if they were just wandering around, but she knew if they were going to make today count they needed to be out of the room as much as possible, so she took her time showering, doing her hair, and doing light and simple makeup. It wasn’t her best club look, but it was the best she can do with how much they needed to get done for the day.
True to her promise, shortly after getting ready and enjoying a breakfast that Adrian did not appreciate as much as the buffet (he only told her fifty times, complaining about not being able to get a little of everything, to which she reminded him it was all inclusive and he could just do that), she spent the rest of her morning with a drink in hand as she watched Adrian work out.
She had to immediately assume that he was partially showing off, spending most of the time shirtless and clearly flexing for her. His eyes flickered from the equipment to her, making sure she was actually watching him, almost reminding her of when little kids fight for their parents’ attention to show them some of the lamest tricks in existence. She felt giddy just watching him and it was clear he felt giddy as she just watched him. Her head was buzzing at the thought that he was doing all of this just for her. She fought back a laugh as he clearly tried showing off his back as he stretched and flexed for her entertainment and tried to watch her, only for someone to run into him and spill a smoothie all over him.
“Oh my god,” he said, turning to look at her, torso covered in the pink sticky liquid as he grimaced.
“I think you got a little something…” she said smiling as she gestured towards his torso. He frowned and rolled his eyes.
“Ugh, I’m going to be sticky all day now!” he whined, and she laughed.
“Go take a shower and I’ll meet you by the pool okay?” she asked, walking up to Adrian. She laughed as he pouted, she was quick to cup his cheek with one hand and kiss his other cheek. Her thumb rubbing the apple of his cheek as his lips twitched.
“Okay,” he said softly, walking away before swiftly turning on his heel to come back to kiss her cheek. She laughed at his goofiness as she watched him walk off. It was so easy to play up this part with him, but once she was alone she was consumed with the thought that this is all fake. Every touch, every glance, every smile, it was all fake. Just for work and nothing more. The only genuine moment she had was the previous night, when he wrapped himself around her and held her all night long.
The rest of the day passed by normally. The two continued playing up the newlywed bit throughout the day waiting patiently for the club to open. Their eyes on every guest but with no luck of them matching anything on the dossier. Well, she was being patient. Adrian was antsy. It didn’t take much puttering around for the time to fly and for them to find themselves in the brightly colored and glowing club. Her simple look from earlier looked severely underdressed, but at least it was better than her other day to day outfits and since Adrian was in a similar boat they looked out of place together.
She grimaced the moment they walked in, her arm looped into Adrian’s as she shuffled in her dress and took in all the people.
Way too many people to even begin looking through.
Adrian seemed to feel her worry as he led them towards the bar, letting her order her own drink while he ordered a nonalcoholic beverage.
“Why don’t you get something? One drink isn’t going to kill you,” she teased, leaning against the bar and looking up at him as he smiled.
“Just prefer it, want to keep sharp for you,” he said with a shrug. “You can have as much as you want though, I’ll watch out for you.”
“That’s really sweet Ade, but I’ll probably just stick with the one,” she said, thanking the bartender as she handed them their drinks.
“Are you positive Economos knew what he was talking about?” Adrian whispered over his drink, a Shirley temple. His white linen shirt positively glowed under the club lights. She moved to lean against the bar, taking a sip of her drink and taking in all the people.
“I mean, if you were doing sketchy business…” she started.
“A club is a great place to do it,” Adrian said, nodding, almost sounding like he was reciting a rule book. She had noticed that he carried around a notebook when he was patrolling as Vigilante. She smiled and thought about Adrian pausing his busy night protecting Evergreen to scribble down some notes or a doodle. “What’s your preferred game plan on this one?” She sighed and looked around, biting the inside of her cheek while she debated.
“You think you can keep watch near the bar and I’ll go dance?” she asked, and Adrian looked at her with wide eyes.
“You want to split up?”
“No, I just think if I’m in the middle of the club, I’d like someone looking out who has an almost full scope of the place.”
“Then I should get in the vents!”
“You’re not getting in the vents. This is not a spy movie,” she said with a laugh, and Adrian rolled his eyes, but an easy smile rested on his face.
“But it could be,” Adrian said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was simply that easy.
“You stay here, watch my back for me?” she said, setting her drink on the bar.
“Always,” he said, voice tight and focused, almost as if he’s insulted that she felt she had to ask him for anything. She tried to not read too much into it as she began making her way on the dance floor watching the people pass by. Her eyes cataloged people carefully, but no one stuck out to her from any part of the dossier.
It didn’t take long for her to lose track of Adrian as he remained at the bar, but she trusted that he had his eye on her, ready to step in if she found herself in any trouble. She turned around to meet the eyes of a man who looked vaguely familiar smiling at her.
Alarm bells started going off in her head; he did just look like some guy, but if he looked somewhat familiar, maybe that meant he was from the dossier, and she was desperate for that to be true.
“Hey beautiful,” he said, smile still beaming. “Can I dance with you?”
“Oh!” she said, turning towards the direction Adrian went but unable to find him. She cursed herself for asking to split up. Adrian would be able to confirm if he was in the dossier.
“Well?” he asked, eyebrows raised as his blue eyes took in her body. She felt her skin begin to crawl from his look, but she knew better than anyone not to raise a fuss - especially when she had a mission to take care of.
“Of course,” she said, smiling gently. “What brings you to Florida?” she asked, cursing her eagerness, but felt lucky he laughed it off.
“I’m on vacation, what about you?” he said, laughing brightly, almost sounding fake and practiced. It almost sounded like Adrian’s laugh, but wrong.
“I’m on my honeymoon!” she said, keeping her voice relaxed and easy.
“Where’s your husband then? Don’t tell me he left a beautiful girl to dance on her own?” he asked, hands suddenly pulling at her waist and tugging her into him as she gasped, hands flying to his chest to steady herself.
“He’s around here somewhere,” she said vaguely, craning her neck to try to get a look at the bar, but he spun her right around.
“Well, if you were mine I don’t think I’d ever let you out of my sight,” he said, pulling her closer and nibbling at her ear. She shuddered and tried to squirm away, laughing to play it off, but the man’s grip remained tight.
“Oh! He was somewhere around the bar, I’m sure he’s looking for me so I should-”
“He’s not here, beautiful. You should worry more about who’s in front of you,” he said, words heavy as her panic began to rise, his hand moving to cup her ass, she gasped as he squeezed. She didn’t understand where on earth Adrian could’ve gone off too. He said he’d watch her back, why wasn’t he-
“Her husband’s right here,” Adrian’s voice said behind her, sounding cold.
She’s still in her first year at Checkmate and getting partnered with Adrian on a mission seems like a trap - especially since she’s fighting her crush on him and now they have to play newlyweds with virtually no support from the others. What will they do as nothing seems to ever go right on this mission?
Masterlist, Ch 1
Chapter 11: Dance Hall
Thank you @vigilantexreader and @kakyoweenie for the edits!
It was the best sleep she’d had the whole trip. She almost hated to admit it. Maybe it was because she was no longer anxious that in her sleep she would wind up making him feel uncomfortable. Turns out the push they needed for good rest was a storm and the pillow divider abandoned on the floor.
Adrian’s weight was familiar as she started to wake up, opening her eyes to look at the window where sun was streaming in. Yesterday’s storm was long gone. She glanced down and his arm, still slightly sunburned, was stiff around her.
“I can tell you’re awake,” she murmured, voice still sleepy, and Adrian squeezed her tighter.
“No, I’m not,” he mumbled, voice considerably more awake than hers as he buried his face in the back of her head. She felt him take a deep breath. “I think today we just do the club, not dinner and the club.”
“What’s the thought process?” she asked, finally prying herself out of Adrian’s grip. She stood up and stretched while Adrian groaned from the loss of contact. He flopped over to where she had been laying and looked up at her, his eyes locked on her the whole time.
“Well, we still have tomorrow, right? We should split up the two leads in case we don’t find anything today, and then we still have something to do tomorrow,” he said. She frowned.
“So club tonight, dinner tomorrow, and just hope that between that we get something?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think club tonight, too, because if I have to go to a club and then the following day get on an airplane I’m going to shoot myself,” he said, sounding serious, and she laughed.
“I get it, a day’s break between them,” she said, shaking her head as she left Adrian in the bed and got out her clothes for the day.
“Well, if we’re only doing the club, you can come back to bed?” he suggested, voice almost hopeful and tinted with a question rather than a statement. God, she wanted nothing more than to take him up on that offer. To get back into bed and maybe this time be a little braver - face him, or lay on top of his chest listening to his heartbeat. Maybe his hand would rub her back and slowly travel lower and lower-
“Adrian, we still should get breakfast and wander around today to see if we find anything,” she cut her own thoughts off, heat rising on her face as she pulled out an outfit that should suffice for the day and the club tonight.
“I guess that’s a good point,” he mumbled and got out of bed. Holding her clothes, she gave him a good once over. His skin was significantly less pink but the burn still looked uncomfortable.
“How’s your sunburn?”
“Hurts, debating if a cold shower is worth it,” he muttered as he got out of bed and went over to his own suitcase. “What do you want to do today besides the club?”
“Maybe we do breakfast at the hotel restaurant instead? See if we can find any of the targets,” she tried. She watched Adrian roll his neck, clearly debating her idea and she had to force herself to look away because all she wanted was to sink her teeth into his neck.
“What if we go to the gym instead? Spar and watch people on the treadmills?” he asked.
“I don’t think sparring is a good idea when we are undercover. Especially if the reason we might not be finding our targets is because they’re on to us.”
“You think someone is on to us?” he asked, sounding like he was in disbelief. She sighed.
“No, but I just want this to be something other than us being bad at our job,” she said with a frown. Adrian clicked his tongue.
“We are not bad at our jobs. You are not bad at your job. I’m telling you, we have to be missing something, okay?” he said firmly. She smiled at him, the look on his face deadly serious.
“Okay,” she said with a nod, and he seemed to accept her response.
“Okay, breakfast at the hotel and then a quick workout? You could just watch me!” Adrian said, waggling his eyebrows up and down as she awkwardly laughed, worried that Adrian suddenly knew exactly what she was thinking about his neck as she grabbed her clothes and made her way into the bathroom. “I’m just saying, we’re on our honeymoon, you should objectify me a little bit.”
She fought the urge to tell him that she had been and he was either too clueless or blind to notice.
“Oh, just a little bit?” she said with a laugh. Adrian’s face split into a huge grin.
“I mean, if you want to objectify me a lot you can do that,” he said with a shrug. She rolled her eyes and closed the bathroom door. “Only if you wanted to though! I’m not forcing you,” he said through the bathroom door and she started getting dressed for the day.
“I know you’re not,” she shouted through the door. “I’d love to objectify you while you work out at the gym,” she teased. She heard Adrian mutter ‘score’ under his breath, and she almost had the perfect picture of him in her mind doing his ‘famous butt dance’ she had seen after too many drinks at a staff outing. She probably spent too much time getting ready for the day they were planning. She normally wouldn’t wear club outfits or do her hair so nice if they were just wandering around, but she knew if they were going to make today count they needed to be out of the room as much as possible, so she took her time showering, doing her hair, and doing light and simple makeup. It wasn’t her best club look, but it was the best she can do with how much they needed to get done for the day.
True to her promise, shortly after getting ready and enjoying a breakfast that Adrian did not appreciate as much as the buffet (he only told her fifty times, complaining about not being able to get a little of everything, to which she reminded him it was all inclusive and he could just do that), she spent the rest of her morning with a drink in hand as she watched Adrian work out.
She had to immediately assume that he was partially showing off, spending most of the time shirtless and clearly flexing for her. His eyes flickered from the equipment to her, making sure she was actually watching him, almost reminding her of when little kids fight for their parents’ attention to show them some of the lamest tricks in existence. She felt giddy just watching him and it was clear he felt giddy as she just watched him. Her head was buzzing at the thought that he was doing all of this just for her. She fought back a laugh as he clearly tried showing off his back as he stretched and flexed for her entertainment and tried to watch her, only for someone to run into him and spill a smoothie all over him.
“Oh my god,” he said, turning to look at her, torso covered in the pink sticky liquid as he grimaced.
“I think you got a little something…” she said smiling as she gestured towards his torso. He frowned and rolled his eyes.
“Ugh, I’m going to be sticky all day now!” he whined, and she laughed.
“Go take a shower and I’ll meet you by the pool okay?” she asked, walking up to Adrian. She laughed as he pouted, she was quick to cup his cheek with one hand and kiss his other cheek. Her thumb rubbing the apple of his cheek as his lips twitched.
“Okay,” he said softly, walking away before swiftly turning on his heel to come back to kiss her cheek. She laughed at his goofiness as she watched him walk off. It was so easy to play up this part with him, but once she was alone she was consumed with the thought that this is all fake. Every touch, every glance, every smile, it was all fake. Just for work and nothing more. The only genuine moment she had was the previous night, when he wrapped himself around her and held her all night long.
The rest of the day passed by normally. The two continued playing up the newlywed bit throughout the day waiting patiently for the club to open. Their eyes on every guest but with no luck of them matching anything on the dossier. Well, she was being patient. Adrian was antsy. It didn’t take much puttering around for the time to fly and for them to find themselves in the brightly colored and glowing club. Her simple look from earlier looked severely underdressed, but at least it was better than her other day to day outfits and since Adrian was in a similar boat they looked out of place together.
She grimaced the moment they walked in, her arm looped into Adrian’s as she shuffled in her dress and took in all the people.
Way too many people to even begin looking through.
Adrian seemed to feel her worry as he led them towards the bar, letting her order her own drink while he ordered a nonalcoholic beverage.
“Why don’t you get something? One drink isn’t going to kill you,” she teased, leaning against the bar and looking up at him as he smiled.
“Just prefer it, want to keep sharp for you,” he said with a shrug. “You can have as much as you want though, I’ll watch out for you.”
“That’s really sweet Ade, but I’ll probably just stick with the one,” she said, thanking the bartender as she handed them their drinks.
“Are you positive Economos knew what he was talking about?” Adrian whispered over his drink, a Shirley temple. His white linen shirt positively glowed under the club lights. She moved to lean against the bar, taking a sip of her drink and taking in all the people.
“I mean, if you were doing sketchy business…” she started.
“A club is a great place to do it,” Adrian said, nodding, almost sounding like he was reciting a rule book. She had noticed that he carried around a notebook when he was patrolling as Vigilante. She smiled and thought about Adrian pausing his busy night protecting Evergreen to scribble down some notes or a doodle. “What’s your preferred game plan on this one?” She sighed and looked around, biting the inside of her cheek while she debated.
“You think you can keep watch near the bar and I’ll go dance?” she asked, and Adrian looked at her with wide eyes.
“You want to split up?”
“No, I just think if I’m in the middle of the club, I’d like someone looking out who has an almost full scope of the place.”
“Then I should get in the vents!”
“You’re not getting in the vents. This is not a spy movie,” she said with a laugh, and Adrian rolled his eyes, but an easy smile rested on his face.
“But it could be,” Adrian said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was simply that easy.
“You stay here, watch my back for me?” she said, setting her drink on the bar.
“Always,” he said, voice tight and focused, almost as if he’s insulted that she felt she had to ask him for anything. She tried to not read too much into it as she began making her way on the dance floor watching the people pass by. Her eyes cataloged people carefully, but no one stuck out to her from any part of the dossier.
It didn’t take long for her to lose track of Adrian as he remained at the bar, but she trusted that he had his eye on her, ready to step in if she found herself in any trouble. She turned around to meet the eyes of a man who looked vaguely familiar smiling at her.
Alarm bells started going off in her head; he did just look like some guy, but if he looked somewhat familiar, maybe that meant he was from the dossier, and she was desperate for that to be true.
“Hey beautiful,” he said, smile still beaming. “Can I dance with you?”
“Oh!” she said, turning towards the direction Adrian went but unable to find him. She cursed herself for asking to split up. Adrian would be able to confirm if he was in the dossier.
“Well?” he asked, eyebrows raised as his blue eyes took in her body. She felt her skin begin to crawl from his look, but she knew better than anyone not to raise a fuss - especially when she had a mission to take care of.
“Of course,” she said, smiling gently. “What brings you to Florida?” she asked, cursing her eagerness, but felt lucky he laughed it off.
“I’m on vacation, what about you?” he said, laughing brightly, almost sounding fake and practiced. It almost sounded like Adrian’s laugh, but wrong.
“I’m on my honeymoon!” she said, keeping her voice relaxed and easy.
“Where’s your husband then? Don’t tell me he left a beautiful girl to dance on her own?” he asked, hands suddenly pulling at her waist and tugging her into him as she gasped, hands flying to his chest to steady herself.
“He’s around here somewhere,” she said vaguely, craning her neck to try to get a look at the bar, but he spun her right around.
“Well, if you were mine I don’t think I’d ever let you out of my sight,” he said, pulling her closer and nibbling at her ear. She shuddered and tried to squirm away, laughing to play it off, but the man’s grip remained tight.
“Oh! He was somewhere around the bar, I’m sure he’s looking for me so I should-”
“He’s not here, beautiful. You should worry more about who’s in front of you,” he said, words heavy as her panic began to rise, his hand moving to cup her ass, she gasped as he squeezed. She didn’t understand where on earth Adrian could’ve gone off too. He said he’d watch her back, why wasn’t he-
“Her husband’s right here,” Adrian’s voice said behind her, sounding cold.
A/N: I was really bad the other day and didn’t write at all and only played Tomodachi Life: Living the Dream…I made me and Adrian and Adrian is head over heels for me and my character thinks we’re ultra friends, so I of course wanted to write about Adrian dealing with that…and what happened when his character confessed…spoiler it didn’t go well. Thank you @vigilantexreader for the edits!!
Masterlist
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Adrian was both extremely easy and extremely difficult to buy gifts for. Mainly because if he wanted something, nine times out of ten, he just went and bought it for himself, or when he would mention something he wanted, it would be something insane and unobtainable.
Like a pet squirrel that could double as a crime fighting side kick.
However, this time she got lucky.
Adrian was away on a mission with Checkmate, one she knew he hated because they had very limited contact. Simply one message back and forth each just so she knew he was okay and he knew she was fine. Even though nothing ever happened in Evergreen, she knew that Adrian wouldn’t be able to rest without knowing that she was also safe. Somehow, she seemed to understand better than Adrian that it was just part of the job he worked as he complained and whined the whole time leading up to a long away mission like that.
She smiled as she remembered how Adrian had his hands all over her the day before he left, leaving hickies behind and complaining that his hickies disappeared too quickly.
The one silver lining was because he was gone he missed the release of the new Tomodachi Life, so she made sure to stop by Best Buy the night before Adrian was supposed to come home and pick up a new copy for him. She knew he had probably already been aware of the release of the game, but he had been banned from pre-ordering games after accidentally ordering the same game three times six months ago from different stores.
So when he came home, she was excited to have the game all ready for him. His switch was in the dock, controllers charged, and the game fully updated and ready to go. All she needed was for him to come home.
She didn’t have to wait very long before he was rushing in the door, swearing under his breath as he struggled with their apartment lock. She fought back a giggle as she stretched and listened to him as he finally got their door open.
His frown immediately melted into a smile as his eyes landed on her.
“Baby!” he cried, dropping his duffel bag and rushing towards her. She giggled as Adrian, dirty clothes and all, wrapped her up in a hug, holding her like he hadn’t seen her in months instead of weeks.
She let him hold her as she took a deep breath. She had missed the way he held her. Honestly, she had missed everything about him, the way he smiled at her, laughed, smelled, just everything she missed.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said, laughing as Adrian squeezed her tighter against him, picking her up ever so slightly. Clearly he had missed her just as much, if not more, than she had missed him.
“A sexy surprise?” he asked, voice pitched high up as he looked at her. She rolled her eyes and untangled herself from him.
“I mean, duh, after you shower and eat, but not what I was talking about,” she said, pulling away from him as he whined. She walked over to the couch and picked up the switch controller. He tilted his head and walked over, taking his controller from her hand and looking over at the tv.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between her and the game. “You didn't?"
“I did,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist as he opened the game.
“Oh my god you got me Tomodachi Life!” he shouted. She cringed slightly from his volume, but still couldn’t help the smile on her face.
“I did,” she repeated, which seemed to snap Adrian slightly out of his daze as he blinked and looked at her.
“Oh my god! I have to make myself! And you! And Peacemaker! Oh my god, there’s so many people I have to make!” he said, kissing her forehead and grabbing the controller and throwing himself on the couch. She smiled, grabbing the book she had got out for this exact situation and got comfortable next to him on the couch.
“Do you think I should make myself and Vigilante or just me?” he asked as the game was loading up.
“Maybe start with yourself, you have the whole 11th Street Kids to make first,” she said, not looking up from her book. She shifted so her legs were resting in his lap as he focused on the game.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but Adrian locked into the game, only mumbling on occasion and asking her for her opinion on different hairstyles for people when he got really stuck.
It wasn’t exactly what she was expecting for his homecoming, but as always, it was nice to just exist around Adrian. He had a way of making the hard stuff feel easy, and she had really missed him. Their late night routine of relaxing with separate activities together was probably one of the things she had missed the most while he was away on his mission.
“Look, baby, I made you!” he said, smiling wide as he looked at the tv with the little character he had made of her. She smiled, putting her book down and looking over at the mii he had made. It did look just like her, and he had even taken the time to draw in some of her features. It was clear he spent more time on her mii than he did his own, making her heart melt just a little.
“Aw, thank you Ade,” she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
“Will you watch me game for a bit?” he asked, sounding almost bashful as his eyes remained locked on the screen. She smiled.
“Of course,” she said, the rest of the night Adrian focused on making everyone before the two finally got ready for bed. Every few minutes Adrian asked questions about the game that she had no idea how to answer so she simply smiled and tried to give any answer figuring the excitement of the game would wear off.
It did not.
The whole following week, any moment they were at home, Adrian was playing the game. She came home multiple nights to him already playing the game. Her tolerance wore down more and more as Adrian began constantly updating her on the game.
“Babe, my mii doesn’t like pancakes! Who doesn’t like pancakes?”
“Do you think John’s mii should be roommates with Ads? Or should I make Keeya? Or would it be weird to have her ex wife in the game?”
“Hm, do you want your mii to try hard boiled eggs first, or nachos?”
It was truly never ending, and it got worse the longer it went on. He was lucky she loved him because he was driving her nuts. She would regret buying him the game, but at the same time he was so excited. Adrian’s interests tended to come and go, only focusing on one hobby at a time, and typically video games only lasted a few weeks in their apartment before he moved on to the next one. But this one had already beat his record, as he had been playing it non stop for a full month at this point.
“Baby, look I’m seeing you in the clouds just like real life!” he said, and she looked up at the tv smiling when she saw Adrian’s mii down bad for her in the exact same way he was for her in real life. She shuffled, moving to the side of the couch Adrian was on, he immediately held the controller up and let her get comfortable in his lap, her book long forgotten as she rested her head on his chest and turned towards the game. She knew he was smiling wide as he grabbed the controller, resting it on her as he continued playing.
However, as he played he started to get more and more frustrated, especially since her mii really seemed to only see him as a friend while his mii was always very blushy around her.
“Fucking stupid game,” he mumbled under his breath, as his mii practiced confessing their love and rejected himself in the practice.
“Adrian…it’s important to me that you realize that those pixels aren’t actually me,” she said gently, and he frowned hard, hands still on his controller, but slower now as if he was processing her words or at least trying to.
“But why doesn’t your mii like me,” he said wistfully. She fought the urge to say something rude, as if she had any control over this video game and what these characters did. For Christ’s sake, Adrian had her character wearing a bear hat, and he had Chris in a disco outfit.
“I do like you, look it says we’re ultra friends on my side,” she tried, and Adrian pouted harder.
“Yeah but I’m ready to risk it all for you! And you just…see me as a friend,” he said. She gently grabbed his chin, forcing him to look away at the game to her.
“Ade, I love you,” she said, kissing his lips chastely. “I’m sorry my mii is having a hard time learning that, but give her a little bit longer, and I’m sure she’ll catch up.”
“But what if she doesn’t?” Adrian asked, and she smiled.
“Then you’re lucky you have the real thing,” she said.
“But we should be constants in all universes!” he complained, but she could see his lips starting to twitch up as he looked at her.
“I agree, but I think maybe with a little less pressure she’ll come around,” she said, lucky that at the very least none of the other characters had tried to make a move on her. The last thing she needed was Adrian going into work threatening to hurt someone because their mii had a crush on her mii. She could practically hear him yelling at John over stealing her mii to go to dinner instead of playing with Adrian’s mii.
“Okay,” he said softly, smiling gently at her as he got back to the game.
It was the following night and she was already in bed, relaxing with her book while Adrian played his game on the couch and watched Fargo. How he did both at the same time, she had no clue. The double music drove her insane so she placed a kiss on his forehead and enjoyed her alone time with him in the other room.
Well, for at least forty five minutes.
“Baby! My mii is asking where he should confess!” he barged into their room and she smiled as Adrian launched himself on the bed. “Help me pick where I should confess!” He showed her all the options and she read through them, grinning as she played along.
“Hmm, the ferris wheel!” she said, chuckling at his eagerness.
“Okay, how should I confess?” he asked.
“Hmmm, the old fashion way,” she said and Adrian nodded. They both leaned over, watching the game with intense stares as they watched Adrian’s mii stumble through a confession. She grinned as her mii watched him intensely, mouth starting to open until-
“What the fuck!” Adrian cried as Chris’s mii came onto the screen and confessed his love for her. Adrian was quick to hit the button that had her reject Chris, but his frustration was already clear as her mii made a comment about seeing Adrian as only a friend.
“Fuck this stupid fucking game! It knows nothing about love!” he said, throwing the switch on to the bed.
“Ade-”
“No! That’s so dumb! Why would Chris do that!” he shouted, pointing at the game as if it had actually done him harm. She frowned hard, getting up and wrapping him in a hug. His hands were tight against his side and she squeezed him harder and he finally gave in and wrapped his arms around her.
“You can tell my mii to tell him no,” she said softly, and he sighed.
“But you’re thinking about it,” he cried, and she looked up at him. There were tears in his eyes.
“Baby,” she started, and Adrian angrily wiped his tears. “It’s a game and-”
“I know it’s just a game, I'm not stupid! I just…I want our miis to be as in love as we are in real life. I want to be with you in every universe and it’s so dumb that this stupid game doesn’t see that,” he said, sighing against her. “I just…don’t want to play anymore. I’m sorry, I know you got it for me and it was a really sweet gift I just…need a break.”
She nodded, cupping his cheeks before kissing him gently on the lips.
“No worries, baby.” she said softly. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay?”
“Okay,” he whispered.
After that Adrian stayed away from the switch, pouting whenever it came into his sight. She really hated just how much this was affecting him so she started doing some research. While she couldn’t force their miis together, she could force them to be together until her mii started developing feelings.
It took her a week. It probably would’ve taken less time, but she didn’t want to upset Adrian by him seeing her play the game after it had upset him so badly. Once she was absolutely sure nothing could go wrong she found Adrian sitting at his desk, sketching in his Vigilante notebook. She sat the lit up switch on his desk as she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek as he tensed at the sight of the game.
“You were playing the game?” he asked, voice uneasy as he closed his notebook.
“Yeah, just a bit,” she said softly. “Could you play the next scene for me?” she asked, and Adrian gave her the smallest of nods, always willing to do whatever she asked even if he didn’t fully understand the why yet.
She smiled behind him as her mii confessed her love for Adrian and his mii was quick to accept her confession, she could practically feel Adrian vibrating underneath her.
“Fuck yes!” Adrian cried, and she laughed, pulling back as he got up out of his chair and started dancing. She smiled wide at him. Every moment playing the game and working on the relationship was worth it just to see how excited Adrian was. “Oh my god, we’re going to get to move into together, and I can decorate the house, and we can even name it!”
“Adrian, you do know that we live together, in real life. Like we are literally in our apartment right now,” she said, laughing and Adrian just beamed at her, continuing to dance.
“I know but this is like a sign from the UNIVERSE that we are meant to be! Constants in every reality, just destined to be with each other!” he announced and she rolled her eyes.
“Okay, sure,” she relented.
He stopped dancing, looking at her with a big goofy grin before grabbing her in a tight hug.
“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear, and she wrapped her arms around him.
“Anytime Ade,” she whispered right back.
“Wait! Does this mean you’ll play more games with me? Oh my god, I can buy you a switch and we can do local play and swap designs!” he said, and she laughed.
“Maybe we can just settle for sharing your switch on occasion. I much prefer watching you play to playing myself,” she said, kissing the tip of his nose as he grinned.
“Mhm, maybe for your birthday,” he said, completely ignoring what she said, and she laughed, rolling her eyes.
“We’ll see,” she said, giving in slightly as Adrian nodded, gently letting go of her as he turned back to the game.
“Wanna watch me play on the tv?” he asked, tilting his head as he grabbed the game off his desk, his work in his notebook fully forgotten.
synopsis: When one of your packmates goes down for a count, you step up to help out. Adrian has...a big problem with that.
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, omegaverse dynamics, alpha!Adrian, omega!reader, I am so sorry y'all, #angst, the children are fighting, overprotective!Adrian
word count: 5.7k
notes: Thank you as always to @embeanwrites and @snowyathena for the beta. dont hate me <3
Masterlist | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve
Normally, Adrian is the antsy one. The one who can barely sit still, the one who worries endlessly over you and your safety. But watching everyone else get sent out into the field…
It’s eating you alive.
You’re not an idiot. You know that you’re still doing important work back at the office. You also know that your Alpha, no matter how much you love him, is selfishly grateful that you are staying out of the line of fire.
You aren’t the only one. John stays at the office, holed up in his cubicle on his computer all day, still trying to debug some corrupt files from Dev’s laptop, hacking into his personal accounts to see what other information he might be able to find to help the team. You could help at first, with the simple things, but now he’s trying much more complex computer bullshit that flies right over your head, and you could tell your presence was slowing him down more than helping, so you just give him space now.
Ads keeps busy, too. It seems like she’s constantly on the phone. She’s a people person, great at making connections and building relationships that will benefit the future of Checkmate for years to come. Good at making small talk in a way that you never have been. You’d been able to reach out to a few people you knew from past jobs years ago, but—it wasn’t exactly working out. You’d realized it less than a week into the project. Society has come a long way, but Omegas still struggle to be respected even in normal job fields. With something as dangerous as your black ops, potential Checkmate business partners aren’t so reassured when an Omega is their initial contact.
Which leaves you doing basic intern bullshit, like refilling the snack cabinet and going on coffee runs and making sure the office is clean and comfortable for everyone as they file in and out in this cycle that feels like it will never end.
It has given you a chance to spend more time in the training room. You’re determinedly practicing everything Emilia has taught you every day, and even when she comes back from a mission exhausted, she will always spend a few hours with you sparring to keep you in good field shape. Not that you’re using any of the skills in practice, right now. Still, it’s nice to be prepared.
You’re in the training room on your own, beating the shit out of a punching bag, when you’re interrupted by your phone ringing. You pause, wipe the sweat from your forehead, and answer a little breathlessly.
“Hey, Em.”
“I’m twenty minutes out from the office,” she says, and a chill runs down your spine at the tone of her voice. “Fleury took a bullet to the leg. I packed it as best as I could, but you—”
“Fuck,” you say. “Fuck, I’ll prep the med room. Is he conscious?”
“Unfortunately,” you hear Fleury say weakly.
“Still well enough to be sarcastic with me,” you tease. John and Ads look up, alarmed, as you rush through the office toward the infirmary. You shout an explanation over your shoulder. “Fleury got shot.”
“Ah, shit,” John says, scrambling up from his desk and heading to the front door. “I’ll wait up front for them.”
As you prepare some emergency supplies, you can’t help but feel a little relieved that you can finally be useful. Your skills as a medic are coming in handy. Then you feel instantly guilty for even having the thought, because yes, you get to help, but that also means someone you love has been injured. Then you feel angry, that people are out there trying to hurt your family, and your determination to be helpful flares anew.
It’s a never-ending cycle that always leads back to one thing: you want to get out of this office.
You’re instantly on autopilot when Emilia and Fleury get back to the office, doing your job efficiently, not letting on your frustration. But it simmers stronger than ever.
You want to go out there with your packmates and help.
“He’s okay. He’ll be out of commission for four weeks, at least,” you report when you finally leave the infirmary. “He’s sleeping now.”
“Fuck,” Emilia sighs. She, John, and Ads had given you some space to work once Fleury was out of the immediate danger zone, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to die of blood loss. Still, you had heard her anxious footsteps pacing in the hallway the entire time. She doesn’t let it show overtly, but you can tell she’s upset that one of her pack members got hurt.
“Did you accomplish the job?” Ads asks. “The person who shot him—”
“Dead,” Emilia says shortly. “I made sure of it. But…” She hesitates. “She was prepared. That’s the reason Fleury got hurt. We thought we were under her radar, but we weren’t. She knew we were there the whole time. Sullivan’s team is starting to catch on. They’re on guard.”
“She’s dead, at least,” you say. “That’s good.”
“Not good. I mean, yes, one more person down, but—the woman I killed gave up some information, before she died. A lead on Selena Falko. Apparently she’s Leon Sullivan’s second in command.”
“You have a lead,” John says, confused. “Isn’t that good?”
“It’s time-sensitive information. She’s going to be in northern California on Friday. But she’ll only be there for two days. It’s a ten-hour drive. If I’m going to kill her—”
“You need to leave now,” you finish. It’s nearing the end of the day on Wednesday now. If Emilia wants to be in position, she needs to go, but—
“Everyone else is out on a mission,” Emilia says. “No one is due to get back until Monday, at least. I’ll need to go on my own.”
“No,” you say. “Absolutely not. I don’t give a shit if you’re the pack Alpha, you do not work alone. Not on something like this. Especially when you just said that Sullivan’s team knows that we’re onto them.”
Emilia frowns. “You’re right. Ads, you gotta come with me. Start packing.”
Ads hesitates. “I’ve been making really good progress, building this list of new contacts. I’m waiting for some really important calls right now, if I’m out on the road with you, I won’t be able to—”
“She can handle it!” Emilia insists, gesturing at you. “She’s—”
“No one wants to talk to me,” you say sharply. “Because I’m an Omega. I haven’t been calling people for weeks, Emilia, because if I’m the first person from Checkmate they talk to, they look at us like we’re weak.”
“Okay,” Emilia sighs. “I’m sorry. Then put the networking on hold, and we—”
“I don’t think—” Ads starts.
“Ads, this is important—we have no idea how long Selena is going to be in the area, we need to—”
“This is important too, Harcourt!”
“Selena Falko is an immediate threat,” Emilia cries. “We can’t just—”
“Stop!” you shout, and everyone in the room falls silent. Your heart pounds, because—this is your chance. And you need them to listen. “Fleury is going to need someone to stay with him for a couple weeks. He can’t be living alone right now, and it’s not fair to make him sleep at the office. Ads, you can continue your work remotely from his house. And I will go with Emilia to take down Falko.”
The silence stretches out, a little uncomfortable, but you refuse to be the one to break it. Not when you can see the gears turning behind Emilia’s eyes. You stare her down. You know you can sway John and Ads to your side. Your pack Alpha is the one that needs convincing right now.
“Adrian is going to lose it if you come with me,” she finally says.
“I am a black ops agent,” you say firmly. “Just like the rest of you. I am more than capable of doing the job. You’re going to be doing all the heavy lifting anyway, Emilia. Falko is close. Just a county over, you said right? We’ll be gone for a few days at most. Back before Adrian even has a chance to freak out about it.”
Emilia bites her lip. “No. It’s—I’ll just go on my own.”
“No the hell you won’t,” you say, your frustration growing. “I will go with you, or you do not go at all.”
They all stare at you.
“Are you sure?” Emilia asks. “This is—if you come on this mission with me, no matter how small, and you don’t tell your Alpha about it—he’s going to be pissed. At both of us.”
“He’s my Alpha, not my owner,” you say. “Emilia, you have been training me. You know exactly how much I’ve improved over the last few months. You know exactly how capable I am of backing you up on this.”
Emilia sighs. “Fine. Adebayo stays with Fleury, you come with me. It’s your fucking funeral.”
Three days later, on Saturday afternoon, the door to the Checkmate office swings open wildly and bangs against the wall. Adrian walks inside with an extra spring in his step, grinning ear to ear, Chris following right on his tail, also in a particularly good mood. They’re back two days earlier than expected, because their asshole target had the decency to live at the beach and own a boat.
Tossing a body into the ocean with a cinder block tied to its feet is so much more efficient than dismembering and burning.
Which means less time doing his least favorite part of killing—cleaning up—and more time doing his favorite thing in the whole world. Being with you.
Adrian makes a beeline for your desk, like he always does, and frowns when he sees it empty. Your computer screen is sleeping, so you’ve been away from it for a while. Maybe you’re in the training room. He starts heading that way, trying to follow the trail of your scent, but you’ve been spending so much time at the office that it’s all over every surface. When he peeks inside, the training room is empty. The weapons room is empty. Your office in the infirmary is empty. A glance outside the window tells him you’re not sitting out in the courtyard.
A terrible anxiety starts churning in his stomach.
“Where the fuck are you,” he whispers to himself.
He starts walking back toward the main office floor with determination, poking his head into the break room on the way. He’s looked literally everywhere else. You’re in the break room, you have to be in the break room.
You’re not in the break room.
John and Ads are, though, and they look up, startled, when the door slams open. Adrian is too anxious to see you to be gentle with doors right now.
“Hey guys!” he says, forcing a bright tone to hide the growing panic inside. “Where’s—”
He cuts himself off when he sees the looks on his friends’ faces. John has gone white and looks like he’s about to puke. Ads is biting her lip, wincing.
“She’s…not here,” Ads says delicately, and Adrian’s stomach swoops again with nerves. John gets up and moves to scramble to the doorway, but Ads grabs him by the sleeve. “Do not leave me alone to deal with this—”
“Deal with what?” Chris asks from over Adrian’s shoulder. “Watch out, Vig, I need a fucking coffee—”
John and Ada pointedly do not answer Chris’s question. The silence hangs in the air for too long. Adrian’s stomach is trying itself into knots.
“Deal with what?” Adrian repeats.
“She’s not here,” John squeaks out.
“You said that already,” Adrian says, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Like, she went to the store or something?”
Chris turns around with his cup of coffee, takes in the tense scene before him, and sets it down on the counter. He looks suspiciously at Adebayo.
“Spill, Ads.”
She looks between Chris and Adrian nervously.
“Fleury got shot,” she says calmly. “He’s out of commission for the next four weeks.”
A sense of relief washes over Adrian, and he lets out a long breath, shoulders slumping. You’re with Fleury. You’re just—doing your job. Handling the treatment and recovery of an injured team member.
“Fleury is okay?” Chris checks.
“He’s okay,” Ads says. “But Emilia—”
“Emilia is hurt?” Chris cuts in, alarmed. “Why was that not the first fucking thing you said to me—”
“Emilia is fine!”
But Ads looks sideways at Adrian as she says it, and his stomach starts hurting again. Something is wrong. He can feel it, now, the way everyone is dancing around it, refusing to answer him, and he needs to know where you are rightfuckingnow.
“Where is my Omega?” Adrian asks, his voice tight.
“She’s on a mission with Emilia!” John blurts.
Everyone stops talking at once and stares. Adrian feels his blood run cold.
For a moment, he says nothing. Just stares right back at the rest of them, shell-shocked, because there’s no way you would do this to him. Go out and risk your life on a mission without even telling him you were going. The idea is so laughable that he actually starts laughing, but the joke isn’t that funny at all, really, so it’s a fake, forceful laugh.
“Nice one, Economos. Really. She would never—”
“Where did they go?” Chris asks Ads, and the serious tone of his voice makes Adrian’s desperate laughter die instantly.
“She wouldn’t,” he says. The words are shaky, tinged with anxiety, like repeating them will make it true. His eyes flick back and forth between all of his friends, and the terrible, panicky feeling roars back in a flash. “She wouldn’t—”
“She did,” Ads says, careful and quiet. “Emilia had a time-sensitive lead.”
They’re not kidding. They’re not—
All of his panic transforms in a split second into white-hot rage, an anger like he’s never felt, fueled by fear and worry and hurt, because what if you get shot, again? What if he loses the best thing that’s ever happened to him? How could you fucking do this to him? How could his friends fucking let you?
“What—what the fuck do you mean?” Adrian explodes. “What—-why—”
“Fleury’s hurt. With him sidelined, Emilia couldn’t go on her own, so—”
“So why the fuck didn’t you go with her? Why would she—what the fuck, Ads!”
“Vig,” Chris says. “You gotta calm down—”
“Fuck you,” Adrian spits. “Did you fucking know about this?”
“No,” Chris says sharply. “I didn’t. And frankly, Adrian, I’m also pissed, because she and Emilia should have known that you’d react like this, and now I’m the one dealing with your bullshit.”
“You’re back early. She didn’t want to tell you, because she thought it might distract you from your own mission, and she didn’t want you to get hurt. And they were assuming they’d return before you, and you wouldn’t have to know at all,” John says.
“Not helping, John!”
It is, in fact, not helping, because now Adrian is spiraling even more. He can’t believe that you wouldn’t tell him about something this big, this important. You know him better than anyone else in the fucking world. You knew how much this would hurt him, and you still did it.
The sting of betrayal is sharp and cold, like he’s been stabbed right in the heart. The very heart he’d given over to you, trusting that your gentle hands would love it, protect it. The same way he loves and protects yours.
Adrian realizes everyone is looking at him warily, like he’s a bomb about to explode. Maybe he is. Maybe he’s just going to fucking self-destruct, and the only person who knows how to diffuse the situation is the one who lit the fuse in the first place, and he doesn’t know what to do. What to say.
No. He does know what to do.
“Where did they go?” Adrian asks.
No one says a word.
“Where did they go,” Adrian repeats, not a question anymore at all, but a demand for information. “You know what—fuck it. I have her location—” He starts to reach for his phone with trembling hands.
“Northern California,” Ads says.
“Give me the keys, Chris,” Adrian says, holding out his hand for the van keys. Chris does not hand them over. “Chris, give me the fucking keys.”
“No,” Chris says after a moment. “I can’t do that.”
“Why the fuck not—”
“Because look at you, Adrian! You are not fucking stable right now. I know you want to protect your Omega. But if you interrupt them mid-mission, if you go in there guns blazing, you are going to be the reason she gets hurt. You have to fucking trust her!”
“Trust her!” Adrian scoffs. “Trust her the way she apparently trusts me?”
“Maybe you need to think about why,” Chris says. “Why she didn’t tell you. Because she knew you would react like this. Because if you were here—would you have let her go without a fight? Or would you have sidelined her? Again? What happened to the guy a few months ago who told me and Emilia we were being overbearing Alphas for not wanting her to go out in the field?”
“He was wrong! I was wrong! She almost fucking died! And if she—if she—” Adrian’s voice cracks. “I know what it’s like now. To have her. To be hers and have her be mine. I can’t lose her. I won’t.”
Suddenly, the shrill ringing of Adebayo’s phone breaks through the thick tension of the room. She pulls it from her pocket.
“It’s Emilia,” she says, a little wary. She looks back and forth between Adrian and Chris like she’s not sure if she should answer it.
“Pick up,” Chris says.
“Hey,” Ads says. “Are you—” She pauses and listens, and her shoulders slump with a little relief. “Okay. Okay, that’s great. We’ll see you later.” She hangs up and addresses the others in the room. “Selena Falko is dead. They’re on their way back now. Should be here in six hours or so.”
Adrian exhales with sharp relief. You’re okay. Your mission is done. You’re coming home now. But still, he can feel the trembling in his hands, the wobble of his bottom lip. The fire of his anger has been doused, and it just leaves him—sad? Anxious? Guilty? He isn’t sure what the feeling is, only that he hates it. Only that he wishes you were here.
His phone is burning in his pocket. He wants to talk to you. He never wants to talk to you again. He wants to yell at you, to make you hurt the same way that he’s hurting right now. He wants to cradle you in his arms and keep you away from the rest of the world forever to make sure you are never, ever hurt again. Conflicting desires war inside him.
Chris watches his face carefully.
“Go home, Adrian,” Chris says. “Ads will take you. I don’t think you should be driving right now. Someone should go check on Fleury anyway.”
“Okay,” he says hoarsely. “Yeah.”
He’s quiet the entire ride. Ads doesn’t dare to break the fragile silence. There’s nothing she can say to fix the way he’s feeling right now, anyway.
Adrian doesn’t know what to do with himself when he opens the door to the apartment and you aren’t there. He’s never spent any time here without you, he realizes. The place feels empty without your presence, and something pulls at his heart when he thinks about you being here all alone for days or weeks at a time, waiting for him to get back from missions.
He doesn’t like being alone. He spent years being alone, patrolling all night by himself, heading back to his dingy Vigilante lair in his mom’s basement to patch himself up. He hasn’t been truly alone like this in weeks, not since he moved in with you.
He hates it.
Muscle memory guides Adrian, robotically, through the motions of his after-mission routine. He takes a thorough shower and thinks about how you should be standing here under the hot stream of water with him, or at least sitting on the bathroom counter listening to him yap. He doesn’t have anyone to yap to. There are words crawling up his throat with nowhere to go.
He gets dressed afterwards and goes to the kitchen, makes himself a sandwich that he can’t bring himself to eat. He’s not hungry. His stomach is still churning with worry, with anger. He dumps the food in the trash.
He stands in the door of the bedroom and thinks about getting into bed and going to sleep. But he knows he won’t be able to. It’s been so long he barely remembers how he ever slept on his own, without your warm body resting beside him, without your arm flung around his waist, without the weird little endearing noises you make in your sleep.
So he turns to the living room. He sits on the couch. And he waits.
It’s late when you and Emilia return to the Checkmate office. You’re fucking tired, but also exhilirated. It had been really fucking nice to finally put your field skills to use. To finally prove yourself in the way you’ve been wanting to for months, since you first got hurt. The two of you had taken out Selena Falko in record time, and you’re in a fabulous mood.
Still, no matter how fulfilled you’re feeling, you’re also exhausted. The office work you’ve been doing every day is a lot less physically draining. How Adrian has the energy to come home and continue to bounce off the walls of your apartment after missions and patrols is beyond your comprehension.
You and Emilia are planning to drop off your bags. A med kit that you didn’t have to use, because neither of you got hurt, thank god, you did not want to have to explain away a black eye or broken arm to Adrian. Some clothes, some weapons, and other field equipment are shoved into other backpacks and duffle bags. You shove through the front door and make your way toward the infirmary with the med kit while Emilia trails behind you with a bag of weapons to return to the training room.
“Oh, hey, Chris,” you say when you pass by him, waving. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you. It’s only once you reach the door to the infirmary that you stop in your tracks and turn around.
Emilia stands there, wincing at the sight of her mate standing in the middle of the room with crossed arms and an unamused frown. Your heart sinks in your chest when Chris turns that disapproving stare in your direction.
“Oh, fuck,” you sigh.
“Yeah,” Chris says. “Oh, fuck, alright.”
“When did you get back?” Emilia asks.
“This afternoon,” Chris says. He looks at you pointedly. “Adrian was real fucking excited to get to go home and spend an extra day with his Omega before we had to leave for our next assignment.”
“He knows?” you ask weakly.
“Did you really think Economos would be able to keep a fucking secret like that?”
“Shit.” You drop your bag at the door to your office and start rushing to the door without another word.
You need to get home. Now.
The sound of the front door unlocking snaps Adrian out of his daze instantly, his heart rabbiting in his chest, his head snapping to look toward it so fast he nearly gets whiplash. It creaks open slowly, and you step inside hesitantly, your footsteps soft and quiet, like you’re afraid to wake him up at this late hour.
Like he could fucking sleep without you. He didn’t even try.
Your nervous gaze sweeps over the room, and the second your eyes meet his, Adrian scrambles to his feet. He’s reminded of the day he saw you in the office after his first rut. His heart pounded the same way so loud in his ears that it drowns out the rest of the world. He stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do with himself all those months ago, and now—
He doesn’t know how to react now, either. You’re staring at him, wide-eyed, a little guilty, like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. You’re also worried, because you can see it. His hands are shaking. His whole body is shaking, he’s worked himself up so much.
He’s got so many fucking emotions swirling around inside him, all fighting to be felt at once. He feels like he’s going to puke out of sheer relief that you’re standing here in front of him, whole and unhurt. He feels like he wants to yell at you for the rest of his life for making him worry like this, making him sit with this terrible, awful anxiety. He feels fucking pissed off because you went on a mission and didn’t fucking tell him.
You approach him slowly, reach out to touch him, and for the first time in a long time, you hesitate, unsure if he’ll want that.
Then he reaches for you, almost on autopilot, because that’s just what he does now. He reaches for you. He seeks out your touch in a way he never has with anyone else, and he really fucking needs it right now. Needs not just to see, but to feel that you are okay, and whole, and with him.
Adrian pulls you into a hug so tight it hurts, restricts the airflow to your lungs, his strong arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, one hand fisted in the fabric of your shirt and the other gripping at your hair to tug you in for a rough kiss. You return it immediately, mouth opening for him, teeth clacking together, and he bites your bottom lip so hard it draws blood, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop.
You smell wrong, and it puts him on edge. Your scent is there, like it always is, but there’s also—gunpowder, and sweat, and something else. You haven’t showered off the mission yet, the lingering air of death, because you and Emilia fucking killed someone and he wasn’t there—
“Adrian—” you gasp, and he shoves away from you suddenly, clutching your shoulders with a grip so strong you already know his fingertips will leave bruises.
“You—you—” he stumbles over his words, relief and anger warring on his face. “I cannot believe you—how could you fucking—”
“Shh,” you hush him, hands cupping his cheeks. “It’s okay, baby, it’s—”
“It’s not okay,” Adrian says, his voice thick, but then he’s kissing you again. He can’t help it. He’s just so fucking relieved to have you back in his arms, after spending the last six hours turning over every worst-case scenario in his mind. You, stabbed or shot or killed by your target, and he can’t—
Adrian shoves away from you again, steps back, turns away from you. He rubs his eyes with his fists, squeezing them closed tight, determined not to let out the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He can’t fucking look at you right now. He will melt if he does. Take one look into your soft eyes and drag you into the bedroom and fuck it out of his system. He doesn’t want to do that. He never wants to fuck you when he’s angry, and he’s not exactly in the mood to be gentle right now.
“Adrian—”
“Do you have any idea—” he starts, but his voice cracks. He hates it. He wants to breathe deep, to think before he speaks, but logic isn’t driving the bus right now, and instead, he raises his voice, whirls around to face you, and yells, “You fucking lied to me!”
It’s your fault he feels like this. All torn up inside. He scowls.
“How could you do this to me?” he spits. It’s vicious, the way he says it, and you step back, away from him.
It’s your turn, now, to scowl, even as your heart races, indignant anger flooding your veins. “Do what to you, Adrian? I didn’t do a damn thing except what was necessary to help our pack—”
“You were supposed to be back at the office! Do you have any idea what it felt like to come back and look around everywhere for you, only to be told by Economos that you were out on a fucking mission? A mission you were never supposed to be on in the first place, because—”
“Because why?” you demand. “Why was I never supposed to be on a mission, Adrian? Because you don’t fucking trust me to do my job? A job which I did very well, by the way, because Emilia and I eliminated another threat to this pack, and have I gotten a single thank you? No! Nothing but accusations—”
“It is my job as your Alpha to make sure you are safe and happy,” Adrian cries.
“And what happens when I’m safe, but I’m not happy?” you ask. “What happens when I watch everyone go out in the field over and over again and it breaks me a little more inside every single time because all I want to do is get out there and help?”
“You—”
“And Emilia needed my help,” you continue. “I was not going to let her go out in the field alone. And what the hell happened? You used to be on my side about this shit. You used to fight with me, fight for me, to get to go out in the field with the rest of the team.”
“It’s different now!”
“It’s not different now. It’s not. How many times are we going to argue about this? I know you have this biological Alpha need to protect me, but you need to get the fuck over it—”
“You almost died!” Adrian yells. “You almost died, and I watched you bleeding out, and you are too fucking important to me, and I won’t risk it!”
You yell right back. “I am still the same person I was before we ever started this! Before you were ever even an Alpha in the first place, Adrian, you knew the type of person that I am. And I will always, always choose to help when someone needs it. Nothing about me has changed just because we’re fucking now! You don’t get to just put me on a shelf like a trophy with a mating mark!”
“Is that all this is to you? We’re just fucking?” Adrian is breathing heavy now, his face flushed red with anger.
“Obviously not! I love you Adrian. You know I love you. But Jesus fucking Christ, if I wanted an overbearing dickbag for an Alpha, I would have mated with your fucking brother,” you snap.
Adrian jerks back like you’ve slapped him in the face. He wishes you would have. It would have hurt less.
You turn away from him to stalk angrily toward the bedroom, intent on slamming the door in his face. Then the words rise up out of him, so fast and unexpected that he can’t stop them.
“Don’t fucking walk away from me,” he shouts.
You stop on a dime. Not of your own accord. And you turn over your shoulder, pissed.
“Did you just use your fucking Alpha command voice on me?”
I didn’t mean to, is his first panicked thought, and the words are on the tip of his tongue before—he stops himself. His face hardens. Maybe he did mean to.
“I did,” he says. “I didn’t mean to, but—I’m not fucking sorry, you—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You’re outraged now. “You are fucking unbelievable. Does it make you feel big and strong, Alpha? To make me do whatever you fucking want?”
The way you say it rattles him. Alpha, not like you always have—like a treasured title—but like an insult, like something pathetic and wrong.
“You wanna try that again, Omega?” he grinds out, trying desperately to hold on to his temper. You don’t even answer him. You’re still trying to walk away. Walk away from him. Your feet are rooted to the floor, and you struggle to try and pick them up. It pisses him the fuck off. “Stop.”
You freeze in place, and now, you don’t even look pissed anymore. You look—upset. Afraid. The room falls dead silent.
“You promised me you wouldn’t ever do this again,” you whisper. “After your brother. You did it to protect me, then, and I didn’t blame you. I forgave you. But you’re doing it to control me, right now, just like he did, and I’m not sure I can forgive you for that.”
Adrian’s heart plummets in his chest when the clarity washes over him.
“No. I—no, baby, please, I didn’t mean to—I—” he stammers, rushing toward you, hands landing on your shoulders. Then he lets go of you like you’ve shocked him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Omega, I—” He shouldn’t be touching you right now, he doesn’t deserve to be touching you right now, he—
“Undo it,” you say, your voice cracking. “Now. Let me go—”
“I—I don’t—” Adrian doesn’t know what to say to undo what he did. The power of an Alpha command wears off on its own, after a while, but—“You can go,” he tries. You slump with relief when your feet finally pick up off the floor, and you nearly stumble and fall. Adrian catches you before you can hit the ground, stomach twisting with guilt.
“I’m done talking about this,” you say, yanking yourself out of his grasp. Your voice is quiet and hoarse. He hates that your voice sounds like that, that you’re tired from yelling, yelling at him. “Goodnight, Adrian.”
You turn away from him and head to the bedroom, the apartment dead silent except for your footsteps padding on the floor. Then the door shuts behind you with a gentle click, and Adrian starts to cry.
She’s still in her first year at Checkmate and getting partnered with Adrian on a mission seems like a trap - especially since she’s fighting her crush on him and now they have to play newlyweds with virtually no support from the others. What will they do as nothing seems to ever go right on this mission?
Masterlist, Ch 1
Chapter 10: Bed Time
Thank you @vigilantexreader and @kakyoweenie for the edits!
The rest of the day went by slowly as they rotated from watching movies, ordering food, observing the storm, and her personal favorite, when Adrian made her fake spar with him in the middle of the room. It didn’t last nearly as long as she hoped, and it was somehow the least erotic thing that had happened between them all week.
However, one thing remained constant as their activities changed, and it wasn’t till that night fell that it really started to weigh on her. She had watched it with close, careful eyes, waiting for Adrian to do anything, to make any sort of move, but no. The pillow that had been their barrier these last few nights abandoned on the floor, and remained there.
Even after they both got ready for bed.
Adrian made no move to grab it, and she couldn’t find it in herself to do the responsible thing.
Was it even the responsible thing to pick it up? She tried to justify it to herself. Surely if Adrian wanted it back up he’d pick it up. He was a grown adult, and he was never afraid to voice his opinion or complain when he didn’t like something. The line had already become too blurry with all their fake marriage and the failed mission.
If she was going to go home after fucking up the mission, she was at the very least going to enjoy nursing her tiny crush on the strange man without the eyes of her coworkers on her.
Those were the brave thoughts, which disappeared quickly as they were both in pajamas and staring at the bed. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him as she shifted back and forth before finally deciding to just put the ball fully in his court.
She launched herself on her side and turned her nightstand light off while Adrian was still standing. She pulled the comforter over her waist, lying on her side, and watched the window - trying her best to ignore all of Adrian’s little sounds. Especially as they got closer and closer towards her. For a vigilante who frequently stalked people, he sure was loud as he hummed and walked around.
She wished she knew the song he was humming, just so she’d have something to talk to him about, but no one ever really seemed to know what was going on in Adrian’s head.
She felt herself tense when he turned the lights fully off and joined her in the bed. Even though she was laying silently on her side, she felt a shift behind her. Despite the dark she could make out that he was still sitting up slightly, watching her through the window. She wished the window showed her a clearer picture, one that she could actually read what he was thinking. All she could make out was the fact his eyes couldn’t seem to focus on any one part of her.
She remained still as he moved closer, lying down close behind her. She could feel heat radiating off of him. He was closer to where the pillow was than where he had been resting in the nights prior. She sucked in a breath as his hand came to rest on her waist. They were both still wide awake, her whole body feeling electric from his touch.
This was completely new from him, unprompted. This wasn’t them playing up an act in front of targets; this was small and just for them.
It was confusing because Adrian hated gentle touching. He hated human skin. Hell, he had told her just a few days before that he didn’t like soft touches, and yet here he was, holding her like she was the most precious person in his world.
“Is this okay?” he murmured. She shivered at his mouth being so close to her ear, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” she said tensely. At her words, Adrian tugged her slightly back, his other hand snaking underneath her head on the pillow. Adrian sighed as he relaxed against her and her eyes remained wide open. She fought back a giggle as Adrian started tapping her absentmindedly. Feeling brave, she moved her own hand to grab his hand and fully bring it around her. She tangled their fingers together and she told herself it was to avoid him tickling her more.
“Your hands are soft,” he murmured, starting to sound sleepy, and she smiled.
“And yours are clammy,” she teased. His grip loosened, and she tightened hers, not letting him get too far away from her. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, you’re fine.” He hummed and went back to clutching her hand.
“You’re much nicer to cuddle than Stretch,” he said, and she smiled.
“The beanie baby?” she asked, amused by the idea of Adrian’s 5’11” frame curling around a tiny beanie baby.
“Yes! You know Stetch?” he asked, squeezing her against him, making her smile. She felt like she was becoming his own personal fidget toy.
“Yes, I know Stretch. I might’ve been warned he might join our trip,” she said, and Adrian scoffed.
“Who said that Hacourt? Ads? Surely not Economos.”
“Chris,” she said, and Adrian gasped.
“Betrayed by Chris! He knows I don’t take any of my beanie babies on missions! I don’t even take them out of my Vigilante basement!” Adrian defended, and she laughed hard, curling into herself. Adrian laughed and continued to hold her tightly as if this was a normal thing they did.
“He just let me know in passing, I don’t think it was to make fun of you or anything,” she said, and he sighed. “Besides, you should know by now Adrian, that I’m never going to judge you,” she could feel him get fidgety behind her.
“Is this weird?” he asked suddenly, and she craned her neck, trying to turn to see him, but he kept her in place so she relented and turned back towards the window. She couldn’t see his anymore due to the fact he was practically hiding behind her.
“Is what weird?” she asked.
“This? Me holding you? Is it…okay?” he asked, sounding almost scared. “I just…with this whole mission there’s like no consent at all really for either of us and I just wanted to know what it would be like to hold you…if you know…” he sucked in a quick breath. “WeBothGotToChoose” he rushed out, and she laughed.
“If what?”
“If we both got to choose!” he yelled directly in her ear and she flinched. Adrian winced, clearly apologetic.
“Oh, well…I don’t know if it’s normal,” she answered honestly. “But I like it.”
“I like it too,” he whispered. “You’re warm and nice and just…really pretty.”
“Oh,” she said, blinking and trying to process what he was saying. “I…I think you’re really handsome too,” she whispered, and Adrian laughed.
“You don’t have to lie,” he said, being dead serious and she shook her head.
“I’m not Adrian. You’re…really attractive,” she said and when she could feel him tense she found herself starting to ramble. “I mean, Adrian you’re really nice, you always check in on me, you bring me coffee. You were one of the first people at Checkmate who came up to get to know me and you just…you’re a good person.”
“Oh,” he said. “I never knew you thought of me like that.”
“I never knew you thought I was really pretty,” she whispered, and silence swallowed them both. The words of a confession are almost there and yet still so far away. Neither of them felt any braver than before.
“You’re more than just really pretty!” he defended. “I love the way you have the best candy out of everyone’s candy dish, and how you always check in on me after a mission. You never laugh at me and you’re just…you always make my day better. You have way more value than just a pretty face, I would never ever reduce you to that,” he finished sounding more confident and almost angry near the end.
“Thank you, Adrian.” she whispered.
“I mean it,” he said, squeezing her as if that would make her believe him.
“How are you feeling about the fact we’re more than likely going home from this mission empty handed?” she said after a beat, clearly not wanting to sit any longer with his words weighing down on both of them. She was too nervous, too scared for what would come next.
“We’re not! We still have two nights left!” he said, and she sighed.
“Adrian, we have nothing. I mean, what are we going to say to the others at the debrief? We’re sorry we failed?” she said, unable to hide her snark.
“We’re not going to fail,” Adrian said softly. “You’re smart and an amazing agent. We still have two whole days left and Economos gave us two leads! Two! Dinner and the club!”
“But what if that’s not enough?” she whispered, knowing if she was facing Adrian there would be no way she would be able to voice these worries.
“You know you’re an amazing agent, right?” Adrian asked after a beat, she blinked and turned her head, barely seeing him out of the corner of her eye. He looked nervous as he watched her.
“What?”
“I just mean…maybe I’m overstepping, but like you’re just as good of an agent as Harcourt and me and Chris and just everyone at Checkmate. You got the job because you’re qualified and we trust you. If we go back empty handed everyone will understand, I understand. One bad mission is not going to change any of this.”
“What if it’s still not enough,” she whispered.
“Then it’s not enough and we go back and tell them and if needed, we come back with more support. Fuck we can just tell them it’s my fault, I don’t care,” he said simply. “Yes it sucks to go home with nothing but even on the most boring of stakeouts you learn something!”
“Yeah? What are we learning by fucking up here?” she said with a scoff.
“That Chris is terrible at writing dossiers and shouldn’t be in charge of mission info,” he said, and she laughed hard, for a moment leaning away from him. He held her tightly, bending with her as if being apart would be too much. “But I’m serious, we’ll be fine.”
“I just don’t think that’s going to be enough,” she said.
“Yes, it is because even if we come back with nothing we learned somewhere someone either lied or we lost some valuable information. Or maybe the person that hired us was trying to trick us or something. Hell, I don’t know. We’ll go back, regroup and figure it out. We will be fine, you’re going to be fine,” he pushed, trying to get her to understand.
“Yeah, I guess,” she said.
“We still need to get everyone souvenirs,” Adrian said, and she let out a laugh. His ability to flip her mood so 360 wasn’t lost on her.
“What? All those Combos weren’t enough?” she said with a chuckle, and Adrian scoffed.
“No, I think we should get them something. What do you think? Magnets? Postcards? Pencils?” he asked.
“We can just get a couple of each and let everyone pick what they want?” she tried and Adrian laughed, squeezing her against him. His laugh made her smile, despite the weight of the mission on her, in Adrian’s arms and him laughing it all felt so small and far away.
“See! You’re so smart. We are going to figure all this out, I promise.” he said, shaking her slightly as if he could shake his belief in her, she fought the urge to hide away, letting Adrian see her smile in the window reflection.
She closed her eyes and released a sigh, focusing on the feeling of his arms around her as her smile grew. He did have a special way of easing her mind.
“I thought you didn’t like soft touching?” she whispered, fighting back sleep more and more at Adrian’s weight and warmth around her.
“I don’t…it’s just different with you,” he said softly, sounding almost surprised at the feeling. “Get some rest, okay? We have a lot of work tomorrow and I know I can’t keep carrying our little duo here,” he joked and she huffed
“You wish you were on my level,” she murmured, finally succumbing to sleep, but not until Adrian’s last words hit her ears.
