Haunting Adeline One-Shot Fan Fiction
Zade Meadows x Reader one-shot Haunting Adeline Universe Genre: Dark Romance Warnings: Dark romance themes, NSFW, weapon play/kink, Possessive behaviour, Slight fear kink. Summary/Blurb: You thought you were alone.
But Zade Meadows has never been far behind.
And when he leaves you a rose and a warning, you learn just how far obsession will go—especially when it wants to protect you, possess you, ruin you.
A dark, seductive one-shot about what happens when the hunter stops watching and finally decides to take what’s his.
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A single red rose sat on your dining room table.
Thornless. Clean. Intentional.
Tied to the stem was a note, the handwriting sharp and deliberate.
“See? I found you, little mouse.”
Your phone buzzed on the counter.
Unknown Number: Lock the door. I left you a surprise.
Unknown Number: The rose isn’t the only thing I’ve touched tonight.
You glanced at the rose again—too perfect. Too intentional.
And then the next message came in.
Unknown Number: Don’t make me come in without knocking.
Your heart jumped. You rushed to the door, hand trembling as you flipped the lock—
The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until—
Two slow, measured raps on the door.
“Who is it?” you asked, even though your voice came out barely above a whisper.
A voice like velvet and venom slid through the door.
“Your shadow, little mouse.”
Your stomach twisted—not with fear, but anticipation. Like your body had already decided for you. Like it wanted to be hunted.
You unlocked the door, slowly.
The second the latch clicked, he pushed inside, closing it behind him with the same kind of finality you’d hear in a loaded gun cocking.
Zade stood in your hallway.
All black. Hood up. Gloves on. And those eyes—dark, cold, calculated.
He looked at you like he was seeing everything.
Like he already owned you.
“You shouldn’t open doors for monsters,” he said softly, stepping closer. “Someone might get the wrong idea.”
You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
He stopped a breath away from you, fingers reaching up to gently trace the side of your jaw—
A touch so tender it was almost cruel.
“I’ve been patient,” he murmured, voice dipping lower. “So f**king patient. Watching. Waiting. Letting you pretend you’re safe.”
His gloved hand wrapped around your throat—not tight, just enough to make your pulse pound under his fingers.
A pause. His gaze dropped to your lips.
“You’re only safe with me.”
Hard. Like a man who’d been dying to. Like someone who knew he was crossing a line and didn’t care.
His other hand gripped your hip, pulling you against him. You gasped into his mouth, and he groaned—low and deep, like the sound he’d make dragging you to bed and wrecking you.
“You’ve been teasing me,” he growled against your lips. “Leaving the curtains open. Walking around in that little thing.”
His hand slid down your thigh, up under your dress.
“And now? Now you’re going to take responsibility for what you started.”
You should’ve pulled away.
Zade pressed you back against the wall, his body a shield, his eyes locked on yours. There was a hunger in him now—no, not hunger. Need.
The kind of need that turned men into monsters.
“You don’t even realize what you do to me little mouse,” he murmured, brushing his nose along your jaw, inhaling you. “I watch you every night. Fingering yourself in the dark like I don’t see it. Like I wouldn’t kill a man for even thinking of you like that.”
Your breath hitched as his gloved hand slid under your dress again, teasing you—slow, soft strokes over your panties.
You didn’t see it. You didn’t have to. The cold kiss of metal against the underside of your chin told you everything you needed to know.
“Hands on the wall.”he ordered, voice low, like a command laced in silk and sin.
Your palms flattened against the cool wall, heart thundering. Your breath shallow. But your thighs pressed together, heat pooling low in your stomach.
Zade’s body pressed behind you, gun still nestled beneath your jaw.
“I could make you beg right now,” he growled against your ear, “and you would. You’d cry for it. Because you want to be broken by me.”
His hand trailed between your legs, fingers pressing into you through the fabric—slow, deliberate, punishing.
“So wet already,” he murmured. “You like this, don’t you? Like knowing I could end you and instead—I’m going to devour you.”
He pulled your panties down with one hand, the other still holding the gun steady.
Then his fingers slipped inside—slow, torturous. Curling just enough to make you gasp.
“You’re mine now,” he whispered. “No more hiding. No more pretending little mouse.”
He dragged the gun lower, sliding the barrel slowly down your throat, between your breasts, then over your hip as he crouched behind you, mouth now pressed to your inner thigh.
“You’ll come on my fingers,” he said, biting down gently. “Then you’ll scream on my c**k.”
You came hard on his fingers, body shuddering, breath a strangled moan against the wall. And when he finally pushed into you—deep, relentless, desperate—he groaned like a man who’d finally gotten his first taste of salvation.
The pace was brutal. Controlled chaos. One hand around your throat, the other gripping your hip, dragging you back onto him again and again.
And all the while, he talked.
“I’ll bury myself in you every night if I have to,” he grunted. “Every f**king night until you know you’re mine.”
Your name left his mouth like a vow. Over and over. Growled into your neck as he thrust harder, deeper.
Until you shattered again, body clenching, legs shaking—
And he came with a broken sound, teeth on your shoulder, hips locked tight to yours like he never wanted to leave.
The gun clattered gently to the floor as he leaned against you, both of you panting, wrecked.
And then, softer… almost reverent…
“I love you like a curse,” he whispered. “Like a sin I’d commit twice.”
Your legs were still trembling.
Zade caught you before you could sink to the floor, arms strong and unrelenting as he wrapped them around your waist and pulled you into him—your back against his chest, the gun long forgotten on the floor.
He kissed your shoulder once, then again. Slower this time. Calmer. Like the storm inside him had passed, and now all that remained was you.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked softly, voice low but steady.
You shook your head, leaning into him. “No.”
He tilted your chin back gently, looking into your eyes like he needed the truth written there. When he found it, the corners of his mouth twitched up—just slightly.
“Good,” he murmured. “But you tell me if I ever do.”
Zade reached down and pulled his hoodie off, then slipped it over your head without a word. It smelled like him—smoke, gunpowder, and something darkly masculine. You sank into it.
He lifted you in his arms like it was the easiest thing in the world, carried you to the couch, and sat with you in his lap. One hand rubbing slow circles on your thigh, the other brushing sweaty strands of hair away from your face.
Instead, his voice came quiet, careful.
“I watch you because I don’t trust anyone else to.” He didn’t look at you when he said it. “You don’t know what kind of people are out there. What kind of things I’ve done to people who looked at you too long.”
You just leaned in, resting your forehead against his.
Zade’s hand slipped under the hem of his hoodie, fingertips ghosting across your stomach like he was reminding himself you were really there.
He let out a shaky breath.
“I don’t know what to do with this,” he admitted. “I only know how to take. Break. Control.”
“And still,” you said softly, “you’re holding me like I’m something to protect.”
His jaw tensed. His grip tightened for a second—and then he nodded.
“I’ll protect you ‘til the day I stop breathing little mouse,” he whispered.
He kissed you again, but this time there was no rush. Just reverence. Like you weren’t just the girl he watched. You were the girl he chose.
And he wasn’t going anywhere.
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