NAIVE
summary: You’re Adrian’s naive and trusting coworker. When an unfortunate circumstance has you asking for his help, he realizes you need to be taught a lesson in being safe. WC: 4.9k
content: NSFW. stalking. breaking and entering. is it dubcon if you don't know he's your stalker? p in v. safe sex. goofy sex. oral.
notes: cheers to stalker!adrian being the one to get me back in to writing oneshots
You were just so… naive. Adrian didn’t understand how you could be so soft and simple. Each look you shared at work, every graze as you passed him—it’s all too much. You trusted him so recklessly.
In a place like Evergreen, you’d never feel scared when you forgot to lock your window. Your neighborhood consisted mostly of older people, and you knew each one closest to you. You felt confident they would look after you if you really needed them to, just as you would for them. It wasn’t a big deal.
Adrian Chase is an odd and goofy busboy. You happen to have a soft spot for those kinds of guys. So when he stares at you too long, you just smile and blush. The two of you had a good relationship at work. Lunch breaks would often be spent together, alternating between your fun facts about shows or whatever your newest obsession was and his sometimes incorrect animal facts. You were indulgent with him, quizzing him without annoyance, just amusement.
It was when you asked him one night if he could drop you off home after work that you first noticed something weird. Your car wouldn’t start that morning, so you’d walked to work. However, you weren’t so dumb as to walk all the way home in the dark. He obliged with that excited smile and put on an album that his best friend introduced him to. You were chatting happily before you realized you forgot to tell him about the upcoming turn, but to your surprise, he went the right way.
“Oh, how did you know to go left?” You ask with a worried brow. Your grip on your seatbelt grows tighter as you watch him closely.
Adrian looks at you with wide eyes and opens his mouth before clamping it shut. Something seems to click as the corner of his mouth quirks and he tilts his head before facing the road again. The natural playful lilt in his tone feels a bit off as he says, “You told me about how you hate going anywhere during the school zone by your house—that school right there. Remember?”
Your nerves are set at ease as you give a little laugh, “Right, I forgot about that. It’s always so damn busy.”
His hearty laugh that seems to start all the way from his chest fills the car. Your cheeks warm, and your stomach stirs at the sound. The streetlights glint off his glasses as he opens the door for you and escorts you to your front door.
You meet his eyes—the same ones that are always boring directly into yours. His unbroken eye contact had intimidated you when you first met. He’s just so intense in everything he does. Now, it feels sweet. He listens intently and focuses on each word that leaves your lips with unbridled passion. It’s as if everything you say is important.
“Well, I should probably get ready for bed. Gotta make sure my car is working tomorrow morning.” You tell him as you awkwardly swing your bag. Part of you wants to ask him to come in and keep up the chatting and laughter.
“I can give you my number!” Adrian fumbles with his back pocket to fish out his phone. He grins and waves it around. “If it isn’t working, can I pick you up?”
“That—that would be amazing! Yeah!” Your voice comes out higher than you expected. If he had called it out, you would have melted into a puddle of shame—that, or spontaneously burst into flames. Either way, you would be embarrassed.
You exchange your numbers and say goodnight. He lingers with a goofy smile before he is blocked from your view by the door. You can hear some weird shuffling from the other side before you do your nightly routine.
In the morning you check your car to see if it will start. When you turn the ignition, it doesn’t even attempt to rev up. There’s nothing. After trying several times, you give up. You text Adrian and tell him about this revelation, and he promptly replies that he will pick you up for work later in the day.
Your job at the restaurant doesn’t pay that well. The only reason you have the house you do is because you’d inherited it from your grandparents. After you finish your morning ritual, you sit down to look up the problem with your car. There is something off about your desk. You aren’t insanely meticulous about your stuff being organized and in place, but you live alone. Anything you put down should be exactly the same when you come back.
The laptop on your desk is plugged in when you’re positive you hadn’t done that. You open it to see it on the desktop; there’s nothing different. You’re confused, but you write it off as being forgetful.
Your car is out of commission for the next few days before you can find someone willing to come take a look at it in two days. The groceries are running low, and you don’t want to take advantage of Adrian’s kindness and ask him to drive you to the store. So, when you step into Adrian’s Sebring, you tell him how you found someone to look at your car.
“That’s, uh, great! Yeah, great!” Adrian cheers, but his lips aren’t turned up, and his pretty teeth aren’t on display. You’re about to ask him if he’s okay when he quickly changes the subject. “I saw an owl last night! It was one of those great horned owls. Swooped right over me!”
This morning you check your car like you have since it stopped working. To your surprise it attempts to rev up this time, but it still doesn’t start. After the third try, it starts up. The dash blinks at you like a warning, and you don’t even change out of your pajamas before grabbing your bag and heading to the nearest car shop. You’ve got it fixed up and shopped for groceries by that afternoon.
When you get home, you text Adrian that he won’t have to pick you up on Monday. He doesn’t respond for a while, and all he replies with is a smile and thumbs-up emoji. You try not to think too much into it.
Adrian heard your car in the driveway when you returned home. He’d stopped by your house once before he’d started driving you to and from work. It was out of curiosity. You are so nice to him that he wasn’t able to help it. He had to see where you lived and make sure it was a safe area. If he needed to, he could stay close by when he did his nightly patrols as Vigilante. He never went in. No, he hadn’t crossed that boundary then.
You had so sweetly asked him to drive you home, though. That changed things. Sure, the two of you talked at work, but you didn’t know him. Not really. Yet you asked him to get you home! You put your safety in his hands. It was absolutely ridiculous. If you had asked anyone else, he would have died. You couldn’t be trusted with your own safety. Not anymore.
It had started as just a quick glance through your home to make sure everything looked fine. He had lingered by your open bedroom door as you slept. You looked so peaceful and serene, like an angel. Everything had been locked, which made him feel better. It was easy for him to lockpick the door, though. He wondered if maybe he should look into lock brands for you. Your laptop wasn’t locked when he opened it, much to his annoyance. He fished through a bit, trying to reassure himself it was all for your safety. You were naive after all! What if you were being unsafe online?
He would stick around after bringing you home. The tree beside your house provided enough cover from your neighbors. For older people, they weren’t as nosy as he expected. He was a bit disappointed that they likely wouldn’t notice someone suspicious hanging around your home.
When you told him that you found someone to take a look at your car, he realized his time was up. He had been enjoying having you so close, all to himself. He loved touching the soft fabric of the long sleeve you wore under your uniform shirt and brushing your hair from your shoulder when he opened the door for you. That night, he sneakily put back the part he had taken from your car that first night he brought you home.
He had stopped by your house in the morning to see if it would start up for you this time; when it did, and you rushed off in a hurry, he took the opportunity of the empty house. He checked all of the windows to make sure you hadn’t slipped up and left an easy entry. To his dismay, the back window was not only unlocked but also partially opened! It was absolutely ridiculous.
You had a stack of sticky notes inside that he nabbed up and quickly went to work at admonishing your reckless behavior. By the time he was done, there were a few notes all around. Your door was unlocked, so the sticky note above the handle was particularly scathing. It hadn’t taken him long, so he found himself perusing your home a little longer. He tried to find some excuse for it, but he didn’t really have one.
When you finish loading your groceries, you go to lock your front door. A sticky note lays there in wait. It is one of the garishly neon ones you’d gotten on sale. In big and messy writing is, “This is really dumb! Everyone knows to lock their door! You’re too pretty to be so stupid.”
Your heart drops to your feet; someone has been in your house. They had been there long enough to write you a note. You don’t know what to do. There is no one in this town that you can go to—except for maybe one person. He is obviously dependable to be there for you; he was when you needed him before.
With a sick feeling in your stomach, you fumble with your phone and type fast. You don’t care about the typos or extra characters as your heart thumps in your chest. Your breath is catching as you look over your shoulder and rush to all the entry points in your house.
You consider if all of these notes would be enough to get police involved. Something tells you they won't do anything about it. There are too many stories you've heard that dissuade you from typing the numbers in your phone.
As you are closing in on the last few windows, your phone dings. A flash of neon almost stops your racing heart in its tracks. The knife you had picked up on the way is heavy in your hand as you look at the note. “Leaving your window open? I’m disappointed.”
You suck your lips in and almost start crying. The message on your phone is simple: “On my way! Be careful!”
Your eyes track around, dreading the catch of more neon slips. There is one more you find just in the periphery of your vision. The pink blares a warning at you from next to the fire alarm, the one you’d taken the dead batteries from and forgotten to replace. “The beeping is to keep you from burning! Replace them!”
“Oh my god,” you let slip from your lips. The tears finally come, and you just want to lie down and forget about everything.
The doorbell rings and you rush to it. You’re about to open it like usual without a glance out the peephole, but the ominous notes have gotten to you. From the little window you can see familiar glasses. You open the door and let the knife in your hands clatter as you launch yourself into Adrian’s arms. He’s surprisingly strong, and his arms feel grounding.
“Are you okay?” Adrian questions.
You shake your head and grumble into him, “Not really.”
Adrian releases you and eases you into the house. He glances between the notes and your teary face. He hadn’t really considered how you might react to them. He's certainly not upset that you reached out to him. Maybe now would be a good time to teach you a lesson.
“You know, maybe we should go look at getting you better locks? Might make you feel safer?” Adrian tries to push. He’s trying to be nonchalant, but it’s never been his specialty. Lucky for him, you’re much too distracted to see his stilted movements and unintentional grimace as he realizes you didn’t shut the window all the way before locking it.
“Uh—I don’t know. I don’t know what to do,” you admit. You’re still glancing around wildly as if someone is about to jump at you from the shadows. “Maybe I should get a motel for the night… at least until I figure out what to do.”
Adrian almost drops the knife he had picked up from the ground to put away. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A single woman staying at a cheap motel—alone—after having a break-in? When he is right there? He is offended by the suggestion. Why couldn’t you just ask him to stay with you? He’s proven himself trustworthy all those times he drove you home.
“I don’t know… Which one? Maybe we should make sure they’re safe before you go doing that.”
“Safe? Why wouldn’t it be safe?” you question. He blinks at you as if you had suddenly spoken an alien language. You realize too late what he was implying, though you had never had problems traveling on your own before. “Because I’d be alone… right. Yeah.”
You’re chewing on your lip anxiously as Adrian double-checks all the entrances and exits to your house. He makes a point of shutting the window the rest of the way. You decide to go with him to get new locks, and he suggests a few other safety measures you could take. He forces the batteries for the fire alarm into the cart while he’s there. When the two of you return, you feel a weight still on your chest.
“Could you stay with me tonight?” You ask him shyly. “I mean—I just don’t feel completely safe just yet. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Uh, yeah! Obviously!” Adrian says as if he’d been waiting for you to ask the entire time—which he had.
The rest of the night goes pretty smoothly as the two of you watch movies and he cooks you dinner. It isn’t fancy, not one bit, but it’s enjoyable. You watch him work and admire his expressive features. You can see everything he feels on his face. It’s one of the first things that drew you further into him. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings developing.
He moves as if he’s in two-times speed, a little jerky and fast-paced. Your mind wanders a bit as you think about where else that erratic and intense behavior could translate to. He seems so airy, and he always looks to you for approval with everything he does. Those green eyes look at you wide and hopeful, like the only thing that matters is pleasing you. Does that mean he would be on the submissive side? You’re not so sure.
As you’re watching a movie, Adrian has you leaning up against him. When you first met him, you assumed he didn’t like touch, and you know he still usually doesn’t. If he can touch you over clothes, though, he lets his hands linger. The first time you wore a long sleeve around him, he laid his large hand on your forearm. His skin only touched the soft material, but he could feel your warmth through it. After that, you wore them often so he would hold your arms to him while he talked to you. It felt as if he was afraid you might suddenly slip away.
Adrian shifts so you can lie on the pillow in his lap. You watch him as his eyes are locked on the screen. His brows are knit, and his glasses have slipped down a bit. You play with the sleeve of his rugby shirt, aching to touch his hand. Your mind isn’t on the movie.
After the day’s events, you feel weird. It’s like there is excess adrenaline rushing through your veins, and it just can’t escape. Adrian has been so sweet taking care of you and agreeing to stay over for the night. You really just want to kiss that stupid smile off his face.
You have never been great at reading signs, and Adrian makes it even more difficult. You genuinely don’t know if he is into you or is just being… him. Soon after you started working at Fennel Fields, you walked into a conversation between Adrian and one of your other coworkers. It was a lanky and awkward teenage boy who didn’t stay very long. When you’d walked up to them, you asked what they were talking about; the boy had flushed entirely red and started trying to make something up. Adrian had simply looked at you and explained, “We were talking about how you have a nice butt.”
That moment was when you realized Adrian was going to completely turn your life over. He was attractive in the way you loved, and he was so brutally honest that sometimes it felt too much. Still, the way he would say things like that never felt like an actual compliment. He said it so deadpan, as if all it was was a simple fact. It didn’t feel flirty in the least.
You hadn’t realized you’d been staring the entire time, not once looking at the screen to notice that the movie had ended. Adrian’s eyes look down to meet yours, and he just stares. It’s that detached look, like he’s analyzing you, the one that makes you wish his usual expressive face would tell you what he was thinking. His eyes dip to your lips, and he says, “You have sexy lips.”
This proclamation is in that same realm of something that should be flirting. It just sounds so plain through his tone that you can’t tell his motive. Normally you’re left flustered and just squeak out a thanks. Your heart is thumping in your chest, and your cunt aches. How long has it been since you’d been with someone?
“You have sexy lips too,” you breathe out. Your lids are heavy as you gaze up at him, focusing on the surprise painting his face. He blinks at you before a bright smile lights it up. It’s like staring at the sun, so blinding and beautiful.
“Really? You think so?” he questions. He shifts a bit to get a better look at you as he practically vibrates from the compliment. “Nobody has ever said that! I mean, even if they had—coming from you? Way be—”
You place a hand on his chest as you rise from your position to face him properly. You’re gathering your nerves before interrupting him with, “Can I kiss you?”
Your sentence stops him dead in his tracks. His eyes drop to your lips before meeting your eyes again. For once, he seems speechless. You think he’s about to back out, stumble out some excuse that what he said wasn’t meant the way you thought it might be, but you’re pushed back. Adrian launches into you and locks his lips to yours. He braces one arm on the back of the sofa and the other on the cushion below you, locking you between him and the sofa. It’s messy; all lips and teeth.
Your fingers are scraping through his curls, tugging him as close as physically possible. He mutters things into your mouth. It’s mostly incomprehensible slurred words that don’t make sense to you. Sometimes you can make out a few sentences like “waited so long” or “softer than I thought.”
When you start to move a hand up his shirt and splay a hand on his warm skin, he pulls back. His glasses are askew, and his curls are mussed. He breathes heavily with his kiss-bruised lips parted as he gapes down at you. His jeans feel tight, and his clothes feel itchy against his overheating skin. If he wasn’t so overwhelmed, he might have stopped to watch how pretty you look beneath him. Your chest is heaving, and you look at him so sweetly through your lashes. All you’ve done is kissed, and yet you look so ruined.
You almost let out a whine from his pause, but it stops in your throat when he rips off his shirt. He grumbles about the feeling of it. He recaptures your lips and pulls your hips up to grind into his. You can feel the material of his jeans scrape through the thin fabric of your pants. A moan passes from your lips into his.
He doesn’t seem to mind your skin touching his right now; if anything, he’s begging for it. His free hand drags yours to his bare torso, encouraging you to touch. You would never have expected him to be so toned and athletic. His baggy shirts concealed what was underneath almost too well.
“Bedroom? Can I—" Adrian whines suddenly as you rub your hand over his groin. “Please, can I take you to your bedroom?”
“Please, I want you so bad,” you respond. You’re not even sure if you answered what he was asking. It doesn’t matter as long as he keeps touching you.
You’re in his strong arms before you can catch up. He’s moved his open-mouthed kisses to your neck that you left bare for him. He barely watches where he’s going as he sucks and licks at your skin. He drops you onto your bed, and he begins kicking off his jeans. You take the opportunity to remove your own clothes. If he didn’t look at you so hungrily, you might be embarrassed by the simple and unattractive underwear you were wearing. It’s not like it will stay on for long.
Adrian tucks his hands under your thighs and lifts your body enough to shove you up the bed until you’re resting on a pillow. If you weren’t already sopping wet, you would be now. The plain underwear you’re wearing is wet, something Adrian is sure to point out as he rubs you through the thin cloth. He grins, “They’re pretty much see-through now.”
You’re about to grumble at him, but your words are stopped short. He uses a finger to pull the cloth aside and blow cool air at your exposed cunt. You almost jump out of your skin, giving him ample opportunity to peel the flimsy fabric from you. He immediately dives in to lick at you. It’s just as messy and chaotic as his kiss, but any lack of fine skill is made up for in his enthusiasm. You lift up to meet his mouth as he buries himself in you. He wraps your legs around his neck and uses one arm to reach your breasts. He grunts when he finds your bra as a barrier. The vibration sends a shockwave through you, and your fingers move to tug at his curls. You fumble to undo your bra. You’ve just gotten it off when his searching hands grope your freed breasts. A moan tears through you as he tugs roughly at a nipple, the shock echoing through your body all the way to your clit that is being sucked and nibbled on.
“Fuck!” You choke on the word as you ride Adrian’s face through the rushing orgasm. He doesn’t let up until your body stops jerking. Part of you wonders if you haven’t suffocated him when you’ve come down. He’s silent and still locked between your legs. His eyes are screwed shut, glasses still half on his face. When you can finally breathe again, you look and see him breathing heavily.
“Give me a second. I almost came,” he admits. He lets his eyes meet yours, and you feel a spark of pleasure tug at your abused clit at the sight of him. A goofy grin is on his face as if he hadn’t just eaten you out. His face is shiny and wet, but he doesn’t seem to care. “That was so hot. I could do that forever, like I could live between your legs. Do you think that could work?”
A laugh bubbles from your throat, and you throw your head back in exasperation. You’re still so wired and needy that you don’t even try to give him a proper response. You sit up and caress his cheek, leaving a kiss on his forehead. His hips jerk at your touch, and he whines, “I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you?”
“Please,” you beg. He moves fast and tries to get out of his underwear by balancing on your bed. He almost falls when he hears your giggle. He looks up at you with a furrowed brow and a frown, like you were making fun of him. You shake your head and point to the socks that he still has on. “Sorry, I just saw you were still wearing socks. You made me cum with socks on.”
A lopsided grin lightens his face, and he laughs too. He finishes removing his underwear and starts working on the socks. He holds one up and looks at you so sincerely, “Yeah, and these are my new lucky pair.”
Adrian crawls toward you, both of you wearing playful smiles. He kisses you again, a little less rushed this time. One of your hands grips his neck while the other grabs at his ass to bring his hips closer. You squeeze the flesh there, and his hips buck. Words continue to stream from his lips, nonsensical and slurred. He grips himself and pumps his cock before breaking from your kiss. Your eyes meet his cock, and you’re mesmerized. It’s slim but long. He swipes a thumb over the weeping tip, and you’re grabbing his hand to stick it in your mouth. You suck and lick at his thumb while making eye contact. He throws his head back and groans. You’re satisfied by the reaction. Your lids are low while you admire his long neck and the way his Adam's apple bobs. Your voice is lower than usual as you ask, “Do you have a condom?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Adrian begrudgingly parts from you to grab the condom from his wallet. He makes it back to you in record time. He slides it on and pumps his cock again. You wrap a leg around his waist to urge him closer. He drags his cock through your folds, coating it in your slick. He moans before leaning over you and pushing it in. The head pushes into you slowly as he kisses you again. You're both breathing heavily by the time he is halfway in. He’s panting into your neck while you grasp at his shoulder and tug his curls. His teeth nip at your skin and latch on when he bottoms out. A wrecked moan wracks through both of you.
Words of praise and compliments slip through Adrian’s lips so fast you can’t make most of them out. He gives an experimental thrust that has you gasping for more. There’s no need for instruction; his hips start moving fast and hard. He whines, “I can’t go slow. I need you so bad. You’re so good—I don’t usually do this.”
You’re not sure what part he’s referring to. You don’t even care, not really. All you care about is the feeling of him inside you and his breath on your skin. His thumb finds your clit, sending a shockwave through you. The abused thing sends you over the edge, and you cry into Adrian’s shoulder as you arch into him. He makes a strangled noise before his hips go into overdrive. He’s pounding into you as you ride out the rippling orgasm. His thrusts become jagged and sharp before he finally sinks into you with the most beautiful sound you've ever heard coming from his throat. He makes a contented laugh as he practically drops himself onto you.
Both of you take a few seconds before moving. Adrian takes off the condom and throws it away before grabbing a wet washcloth from your bathroom and cleaning up the sticky mess you made. He tosses it in your laundry basket and collapses next to you.
You’re playing with his curls when he hums, “You know, you should get a lock on your gate. You probably want to move your trash cans too; it makes it easy to get in and out of your backyard. Oh, and that panel by the tree? Needs to be fixed. A small person could fit through there.”
Your fingers stop in their tracks as you look at him. He's blissed out with a dopey smile on his face. His glasses are smudged, and his eyes are on the ceiling. You scoot back a bit and lift onto your elbow. Your eyes are wide, and your nerves that were finally sated are wild again. You asked in a hurried voice, “How do you know that stuff?”
He just looks at you with a confused expression like it is the most obvious thing ever before explaining, “I’ve been back there. How do you think I knew about the unlocked window?”
