･ ⟢ ⋮ Iris’ Message ゛༝ wanted to make this longer bc i love reading smut dialogue, and i assume other ppl do too!!
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Times like this, you wished you had a better sense of time, or a stronger resolve to keep a hold on your brain when you’re holding onto Adrian like this.
Earlier, he had perched you onto his lap, his arms around you as he guided you (while simultaneously begging you to just) hug him while he puts it inside you. Now, you were too gone to even try and change position. He was the type of guy to be able to stay in one position for the rest of his life.
"Oh, shit—" Adrian whimpered, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear. His arms that were wrapped so tightly around you, holding you so impossibly close, shook with want. Want doesn't even cover what he feels in the moment. He needs—longs—to just thrust into you a little harder.
But, feeling you quiver around his cock made Adrian think, 'Would it really be an issue if I came inside again?'. "Don't move, don't move."
Adrian was grinding up into you with the smallest hip movements he could do. He could feel the tip of his cock grazing against the most sensitive of parts. A broken whine would rip through your throat at the most minuscule thrust. Your nails dug into his bare back, leaving bright red marks amongst the old and new scars.
"Yes, yes," Adrian stammered. "Fuck.. Right there. You're so beautiful like this-you're always beautiful." At his words, you arched into him, pressing your body against his, as if you weren't close enough. "No—wait, shit. Don't do that, I-I'll cum. Just sit here, sit on top of me. I jus' wanna stay in you longer. Please, fuck, don't move."
He rambled, his words slurring on pleasure and a half-empty mind. He didn't even know what he was saying majority of the time. He just knew that, when he talked, he felt like he could last a little bit longer. A little bit longer, wrapped around your warmth, was all he needed.
Adrian felt your head bob up and down uselessly as a nod. His lips parted to let out a quiet puff of breath as he let his head fall, finding refuge in the crook of your neck.
You drooled a little on his shoulder, fingers clawing at his shoulder blades, just desperate to find something to grip onto and hold. Your mind was gone—melted to oblivion. All you could do was moan pathetically, your noises escaped your throat with a rasp. Dried tear tracks coated your cheeks, your eyelids feeling too heavy to keep open. But, God, you wanted to look at Adrian, even if it was the bruised skin of his neck.
"Jus' gonna keep-ah, shit..! Jus' gonna keep thrusting a little. Hold me, please. Keep holding onto me. Fuck, you're so cute. Thank you for letting me fuck you, thank you. I can't wait to cum in you. B-But, I gotta wait. Gotta wait, gotta wait."
His small thrusts gradually picked up the pace. His tip, which was just gently brushing against your cervix, was now repeatedly hitting your sweet spot relentlessly.
Adrian knew his words didn't match his movements. He knew he sounded silly, but he didn't care. He wanted to chase out one last orgasm from you. Just one more. "C'mon, baby. One more time—cum for me one more time. You got it. Please, cum for me. You feel so fucking good when you let go."
At his words, and the change of pace in his hips, you felt the last of your resolve get whisked away. Your shoulders dropped, though your thighs tightened around his waist.
Adrian felt your whole body twitched as you blessed him with one last orgasm for the night, your strained moan sounding like the sweetest music. He swore he could've came right there.
"Yea, yea," Adrian whispered, "There we fuckin' go. Cum around me just like that." He whined, attempting to talk you through it, but his voice was so shaky and weak, it hardly sounded real. "I'm gonna finish inside you again, okay? Just this last time. I'll try for one more time."
You felt Adrian grind into you with more pressure, his hands trailing down to your hips to push you against his. "Fuck.." He cried, tossing his head back against his headboard. "You make me feel so fuckin' good. I love you, I love you, I love you." Adrian rambled against your skin, his grinding becoming more and more erratic.
Instead of giving you a verbal warning, Adrian shoved his face into your neck, pressing his lips into your collarbone. His arms snaked back around you, holding you even closer, and even tighter. He cursed mentally as he reached his peak, filling you back up all over again, his cum spilling out of you.
As you both came down from the high, you noticed the light in the room began to filter through once more, you knew it wouldn't be the last time.
Adrian never knew when to quit. Ever. He either had to be called away, or he had to be brought to the brink of fucking exhaustion. Neither seemed to be coming immediately.
Savage - Adrian makes a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl, but hey, when doesn’t he? She’s weird, funny, and treats him gently, which obviously makes him obsessed with her, and much to his surprise, she seems to like having him around too. Together, they try to carve out a peaceful life, yet her less than perfect family messes up their harmony.
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Cowboy & Piggy - No, Adrian had not been crushing on his colleague. That’s just, like, not true in the slightest. It’s not as if the moment she became available, he said something he could never take back.
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Calendar Girl - When his buddy goes missing, Adrian spends all of his time and energy trying to get her back to him. Because they’re friends, obviously.
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Hercules and Megara - Childhood friends have a habit of drifting apart. Usually, it’s a natural thing. Adrian never wanted to separate from his best friend, but he thought he had to.
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Squirtle Pyjamas - She knows how to calm Adrian down. And wears his clothes. And teases him relentlessly. And knows exactly what to do to rile him up. And knows his deepest secret. But, no, nothing can happen between them. He must resist the temptation to do something about it.
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Spot Over By The Fire Station - After his manager forces him to go to the emergency room for a concussion, Adrian meets an old friend, and she looks worse for wear. He knows he can help with that.
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Hopelessly Devoted - They broke up a while ago, and Adrian still isn’t over it. Chris takes him on a night out, and they get trashed. Adrian never imagined that he’d get up in front of people and serenade his ex, but he did.
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My Favourite Girl - Telekinetic powers can be beneficial every so often. Other times? Yeah, not so much. After a mission gone wrong, her gifts might be godsent. Adrian, however, knows she is godsent, especially with boobs like that.
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Sweltering - It’s far too hot in Evergreen for Adrian to even hide his attraction to Y/N. He tries. And fails miserably. Especially when the guy who delivers her hot tub is so swoon-worthy.
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Wednesdays - While Peacemaker was in prison, Vigilante made another friend, and she had a much lovelier voice than Chris did, and after a takedown, Adrian can’t quite get his thoughts off her.
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What You Deserve - Vigilante has had a long night and just wants to see his favourite girl then go to sleep. Is that too much to ask for?
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Big Strong Guy - No. Adrian is fine with scary movies. He’s fine, okay? That’s impossible; he doesn’t have goosebumps. You’re seeing things. Must be because he's a big, strong guy who doesn’t get scared of shit like that.
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Lucky Number 14 - A work outing lets some things come to light, yet Adrian isn’t there to hear it.
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Last In Line - Getting kidnapped is becoming more of a regular thing for Adrian. Yet, he knows this one. And she definitely knows him.
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The Things You Do For Pussy - Living together means that Adrian’s secret identity isn’t really a secret to her, so she loves to make thirsty remarks about Vigilante whenever she can, and it’s not as if Adrian feels something more than friendship for his roommate, right?
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Waller’s Way - When the new government-issued 11th Street Kid arrives, the team soon finds out why Waller picked her. They don’t really know how Adrian pissed off their boss so much, but he sure isn’t happy with their new colleague.
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Clingy - The Vigilante mobile breaks down, and Adrian needs a hand, transport-wise and socially, it seems. Once his coworker gives him a hand, it sets him off, and there is no going back to the platonic relationship they had before. A relationship that needs to have clear boundaries because Adrian is known to get far too excited to interact with her at any chance he gets.
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Beautiful Things - Since Vigilante no longer has to work his shitty busboy job, and that leaves his schedule wide open for the rest of the day, he soon finds himself frequenting a quaint coffee shop, not only because the drinks there are good, but because he’s grown fond of the woman working there.
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The Distraction - Occasionally, Peacemaker has a solo mission. Whenever these happen, Vigilante has to be distracted so he doesn’t make the solo into a duo. The only person who is capable of that is the girl that Adrian hates… No, that can’t be right. He doesn’t hate her, not really. Quite the opposite, actually.
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The Monarch Hotel - How many times does Vigilante need to get injured before Harcourt finally gives in and hires a medic to help out with the squad’s injuries? Far too many times, that’s how many. When it’s uncovered that a fancy hotel is linked to not only what’s left of the legion of butterflies but also a string of weird deaths and missing persons reports, the only two for the job are lovesick Adrian and the newbie. Will they both make it out of paradise alive?
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Peacemaker Jr - Peacemaker scrubbed all mention of his kid from his file. But when the butterflies find out about her, he must admit to his team that he needs their skills to find her. Then, Chris really requires Adrian’s help to keep her safe, but he’s concerned that his buddy is going to get far too familiar with his daughter. And maybe those fears are warranted.
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On The Road - Peacemaker’s mother fled with her unborn child when Chris was a teenager, and he’d always wanted to find his family again. After annoying Waller, he must send his friends out to help save his family, and Adrian finds out that he is more than willing to throw himself into danger to ensure that Peace’s sister is unharmed.
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Slumber Party - Had Vigilante intended to find the missing mayor’s daughter? No, but he wasn’t going to admit that. He’d completed the 11th Street Kids’ mission entirely by himself and found himself caring for the kidnapped girl.
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Damsel - Vigilante notices a girl and her not-so-nice boyfriend arguing, and just as the hero is about to reprimand the bad boyfriend, she does something unexpected. When she finds him a week later, they come to learn that they mesh quite well. Will that chemistry remain when she knows who’s under the visor?
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Bacon and Bloodshed - When Vigilante came across a crying girl covered in blood, he didn’t expect to have breakfast with her the next morning.
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Reunited and it Feels So Good - After months apart under witness protection, Y/N and Adrian reunite following the defeat of the Butterflies. Both have changed—Adrian’s lost his curls, and Y/N’s sporting new tattoos and a mullet—but their connection is stronger than ever.
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Project Cherub - The 11th Street Kids have been given a new mission called Project Cherub, which seems like something that is completely out of their wheelhouse, and a new member is added by Waller to help them along. Everyone is suspicious of this new arrival, except for Adrian, who is smitten and feels this indescribable tugging towards her.
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Besties - Adrian has a pal that he's known forever and leaves her off his rankings because she fits into a different category in his mind. What that new category is, he's still trying to figure out. All he knows is that he loves her, loves fucking her, and wants her to stick around forever.
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The Greener Grass - Peacemaker loses his phone in a parallel dimension, prompting ARGUS to send the 11th Street Kids to retrieve it. Adrian comes across his hacker girlfriend in an alternate universe and has to confront his beliefs on family and the future when he becomes mesmerised by the new life they live together.
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Hallows Eve - Adrian has a Halloween routine. He's followed it for an entire decade. It's sad, but it's the only way he could think of to deal with his grief.
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Vampires Suck - Adrian has a coworker at Fennel Fields. She's normal, totally normal, and totally into him. He offers to stick around to walk her home, and although she declines, Vigilante decides to do it anyway. After initially being distracted, he finds her bleeding out in an alleyway and seeks the other 11th Street Kids out for help saving her life. Whether they're successful in that mission, well, that can be debated.
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Hallows Eve - Adrian has a Halloween routine. He's followed it for an entire decade. It's sad, but it's the only way he could think of to deal with his grief.
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Her Web Connects Them All - Adrian loves Spider-Man so much that his brain nearly implodes when Adebayo convinces a superhero with a similar power set called Arachne to join Checkmate. He's weird about it – just like the rest of the gang – but she seems to like that.
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The Devil of Evergreen - When the new hacker starts at Checkmate, Adrian makes it his duty to be her dog. Her guide dog, specifically, as the newbie happens to be blind, and he uses everything he's learnt from movies and comics to make sure his damsel in distress is safe. Whether she actually is a damsel, well, that's another thing entirely.
Horny! Adrian, whose caught off guard when you walk into the men's bathroom as he's changing out of his suit, leaving him in his white underwear and has to guide you out, placing his hands on your shoulders, because you refuse to open your eyes out of embarrassment, which also makes it hard for you to relocate the door. You mutter a string of apologies up until he pushes you out that door, and is grateful you keep your eyes shut so you can't see the bulge growing in his underwear with every second that passes.
Horny! Adrian, who agrees to spar with you, and foils your attempt at a leg lock around his head, which results in your legs resting on his shoulders as he pushes you into the floor, mimicking a mating press, which has him bucking up into you. You gasp and squirm in his grasp, grinding into him in a failed attempt to move away. He quickly pulls away, profusely apologising, even though he loved watching you squirm under him all breathless. He doesn't mention anything about the way you pressed into him, or how you rubbed your thighs together after.
Horny! Adrian, who is such a good friend, accepts your request for help when you're drunk, which results in him laying you in your bed on your back, with your legs spread in front of him, making his mind run wild. He starts to undress you, at your request, but you ask him to do it with his eyes closed, which ends up feeling more intimate than it was meant to. He runs his fingers over your soft legs as he pulls your jeans off. He then runs them back up, grabbing your hips to move you closer, feeling his way up your body, pushing your shirt up which allows his fingers to graze your lace bra, before pulling your top off you. He gropes around for one of his shirts, sitting you up to lean against his chest as he slides it on you. Out of respect, he tucks you into his bed, and camps on the floor with a pillow and a couple of blankets. However, once he's sure you're knocked out, he finds his hand wandering south, thinking back to your sparring session earlier, quietly stroking himself, finding his gaze drifting back to you no matter how much he tries to look away. He imagines pulling apart your pussy with his fingers and watching his cock slowly slide in, stretching you open as he bottoms out, pulling the most sinful noises from you. He hears you shuffling in your sleep, rotating to face him, and despite knowing he should stop, he can't help but quicken his strokes, cumming within seconds, wishing it was in you instead.
Horny! Adrian who lets himself into your place because you asked him to help set some things up for the party before the others arrive. He hears you breathlessly call his name, following it to your room, finding you sprawled out on your bed, with a vibrator between your legs, not calling, moaning his name. He can’t help how hard he gets, watching the way face contorts in pleasure as you concentrate, your breathing picking up the closer you get to reaching the climaxing. He pushes his pants down, and before you even register he's there, he's pushing his cock inside you, breaking you out of the little trance you were in as you realize he's here, in your house, with his dick inside you…and you don't mind.
“I'm so sorry, you just looked so pretty…here, lemme do that.” He says, grabbing your vibrator, holding it to your clit as he thrusts in and out of you. You don't protest, bathing in the immense pleasure he's giving you, instead, you wrap your legs around his hips to pull him closer, becoming a moaning mess as he picks up his pace. You run your hands through his hair, pulling him towards you to consume his lips, moaning into his mouth as he finally tips over the edge you've been chasing for the past hour. He follows seconds later due to how absurdly hot this whole situation is, mumbling incoherently against your lips as he rode out his high.
a fic where Adrian tolerates you with the rest of the 11th Street Kids who isn't his BFF Peacemaker but Earth X Adrian falls in love with you at first sight?
Adrian wonders if deep down he loves you too but definitely nope. It's just an Earth X Adrian thing. (Who arrives to your universe and attempts to take out Adrian so he can be with you)
thinking about riding adrian so hard he stops babbling 🤭 disrupting every single train of thought that forms in his pretty head, watching closely as he battles with himself, opening his mouth constantly to try to speak but all that comes out are tortured gasps or pathetic croaking sounds, finally getting to admire his cute face contorting in pleasure without his incessant talking distracting you, moaning at him teasingly "you're so pretty like this baby, so quiet all of a sudden, is this all it takes?" and thats when adrian breaks his silence (or tries to), his words come out hilariously chopped in response to the snap of your hips, "uggh- sh-shut up- f-fuck! i hate yo-" adrian's breath runs out mid sentence when you swivel your hips a lil harder, mouth opening wide in shock at your meanness, you giggle at him when he drops his head back with a helpless groan and he mouths an angry curse
How fast do you think Adrian would nut or get hard if his gf was tilting his head down while he's in Vig mode to use his visor as her mirror???? Like she's over here touching up her makeup and using his visor, I do believe Adrian would 100% short circuit for a minute there
oh absolutely its the intense eye contact you dont even know you're making with him, he loves your attention but right then it almost borders on too much, hes so nervous the whole time that he shakes a lil bit and then says "i uh- i think you missed a spot" and its not even true he just wants you there for a little longer :((
bpm part one > bpm part two > bpm part three > bpm part four
synopsis: Near death experiences are supposed to put everything into perspective. Unless you actively choose to ignore that perspective.
gif by @/stackhousesookie
pairing: adrian chase x f!reader
word count: 7.4k
tags: 18+, mission partners who hookup sometimes and maybe don't know how to deal with those feelings, Checkmate reader, injury, loss of consciousness, blood, blood consumption (kind of?), attempted phone sex, idiots avoiding their feelings, questionable medical ethics, angst, emotional slow burn, miscommunication
note: remember when I said this was going to be three parts? surprise! it's four! i needed to torture these two for just a little longer. give me a chance to indulge my slow burn proclivities and I will take it to the extreme! anyway, oops I'm sorry for this one! also! this is the picture in question if you're unfamiliar with Romeo + Juliet (1996)!
Your head was swimming, your heart beating so fast you were certain it was trying to make a run for it straight out of your ribcage. All things considered, you should have known shit was about to hit the fan the second Adrian leaned over in the back of the van and whispered, “I wasn’t listening to the briefing at all, were you?”
And now you were writhing on the ground, agonizing that it wouldn’t be you that got to kill him but some sort of…poisonous gas? Unfortunately, that also meant you were about to die. A real, grade-A fucking bummer.
“Don’t! Go! To! Sleep!” Vigilante grunted, punctuated by each drag across the floor closer towards you. You realized suddenly you were on your back. When had that happened? His gloved fingers slapped at your face, poking you in the eye.
“I’m so tired, Vig,” you slurred out, letting your heavy, heavy eyelids slip closed. Your hand flailed uselessly towards his, trying to bat it out of your face, but you had to settle for clutching at his wrist. He turned his hand and laced his fingers through yours, his grip punishing, but your brain felt so far away from your body that you couldn’t muster the energy to care. “I don’t wanna die.”
“Hey!” he wheezed. “We’re not going to die. I won’t let you. If you die I’m going to have to resurrect you and then kill you myself for dying on me.”
“But…if we do, I'm sorry.”
“Don’t do that!”
“Do what?”
“That…that deathbed confession shit. I don’t want to hear it. In fact, I’d put my fingers in my ears right now but I can’t feel my arms,” Vigilante mumbled.
“Fuck you,” you hissed, your head rolling to the side. Your forehead brushed against his mask and you opened your eyes again, only to be greeted with the red gash of his visor. “I wish…I could…see your face right now.”
“You do?” he asked. “Why?”
You swallowed and even the effort of that was difficult. “It would just be nice…to see your face one last time.”
You were too out of it to even be properly concerned with how embarrassing the truth of that was.
“Oh my god,” he huffed out. “You’re so in love with me.”
“I am not.”
“Admit it, you are!”
“I can’t believe you’re wasting your dying breaths on this,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed again.
“Will you keep your eyes open for me if I take the mask off?” he asked, sounding panicked.
“Can’t.”
There was a slight rustle beside you. “Open your eyes.”
“Make me,” you argued half-heartedly. You were so tired that you couldn’t even feel how uncomfortable the floor was anymore. You felt like you were sinking into the floor, limbs weighted and dragging down, down, down.
“Open your eyes, dude,” he demanded gruffly. His hand squeezed yours harshly, startling you and wrenching you back from your floor-melt. You obeyed, even though it was a near-excruciating effort. You became faintly aware of the tears streaming out of your eyes, and the sting of the gas, and the sharp, chemical smell in the air. But you were very aware of Adrian: his warmth beside you, the smell of sweat clinging to his skin, the pressure of his hand in yours that you were fast becoming sure was the first and only and last thing in the world.
“That’s better,” he cooed. His eyes were bloodshot which made their delicious green all the more vibrant.
“Yeah,” you agreed, managing to dip your chin in a nod. A violent cough wracked your whole body and you felt the weight of Adrian’s head on your shoulder.
“Don’t…”
But Adrian didn’t finish that sentence. You pressed your cheek into his damp hair.
“You…were right,” you wheezed. “I should have told you that I – ”
You awoke with a start, a gasp pulling air into your burning lungs. The back of your throat stung like a bitch. A bright flash nearly blinded you and you slung your arm over your face in an attempt to block it out. You could feel your arms again.
“Move her arm, it’s ruining the picture!” Christopher Smith’s voice was a strangely welcome sound, even if you didn’t understand anything he was saying. Move whose arm? What picture? Five seconds ago you were dying holding Adrian Chase’s hand.
“Leave the poor girl alone!” Adebayo’s voice. You tried to lift your head but the world quickly shifted into a watercolor version of itself. You swallowed the acrid taste at the back of your mouth and tried not to gag.
“Fuck.”
“Hey, killer, welcome back to planet Earth!” Chris cheered. You tried to roll onto your side to relieve the relentless pressure of concrete against your spine, but something was weighing you down.
“What’s happening?”
“Well – ”
“She loves me!”
The words were a sharp gasp from directly beside you, hot breath and too much volume making your skull feel like it was floating away from your brain. Still, your heart seized in your chest. He couldn’t have heard you – he was out before you and you hadn’t even finished the words.
If that’s what you were even going to say. Which. You know, maybe you weren’t.
I should have told you that I like the ferocity with which you stab targets!
I should have told you that I like working with you even though you don’t listen to me most of the time.
I should have told you that I like the way I feel when you touch me.
I should have told you that I lo –
Suddenly, you looked down and realized the thing weighing you down was Adrian. Half his body was draped across yours, your legs tangled, your fingers interlocked, his head resting on your shoulder. Until he lifted it to look at you, his eyes wide and unfocused.
“Who?”
“You!” Adrian’s eyes widened as he processed everyone else standing over them. He stammered, “Uhhhh, ha ha youuu know who!”
“I don’t!”
Was Chris pouting? He still had a phone pointed at the two of you and the implications of that were not great.
“Harcourt!” Adrian yelped. He rolled flat onto his back. “Yeah, ha! I had this crazy dream…because of the…gas…that Harcourt finally admitted that she loves me. But I was like, no way José, you’re Chris’s girl and I would never interfere with the sanctity of that. Bro code.”
You swallowed hard. God he was bad at lying. It shouldn’t have been charming, and yet.
“You dreamt all that in the, what…five minutes you two were unconscious?”
“The human brain is a wild, wonderful and terrifying place, Ads. You really ought to stop underestimating it.”
“I don’t want to think about what’s going on inside your brain, Adrian,” Adebayo said with a shiver.
“Hey, so is anyone going to fucking explain what the hell just happened?” you asked, getting annoyed. Adebayo extended a hand in your direction.
“Sit up nice and slow,” she urged. Then she rolled her eyes. “Adrian, get off of her!”
Adrian grunted and then slowly disentangled your limbs before rolling onto his back, starfish-flopping onto the concrete with an audible slap of limbs.
“Adrian, please be careful,” you said, a more begging quality to your tone than you would have liked. Once Ads had you on your feet, you reached down to help him up against your better judgment. He made it significantly more difficult than it needed to be, practically dead weight that you hoisted upright and then he settled right against your hip like he needed your support to walk. You rolled your eyes but indulged him anyway, wrapping an arm around his narrow waist.
“You good, Vij?” Chris asked. “Are you hurt?”
Adrian nodded and then slumped down further so he could rest his head on your shoulder. “Yeah, I’m like…definitely wounded.”
“Where?” Ads asked as she and Chris started to guide you out of the building, flanking either side of you and Adrian.
“My heart.”
Chris slapped him upside the back of the head at the precise moment your fingers pressed deep into his ribs and Adrian whimpered.
Back in the van, Economos gave you both a once over, checking your pulses, your pupillary reaction, your oxygen levels and blood pressure as Ads explained the gas that had been deployed was just a run-of-the-mill airborne sedative. Adrian fidgeted beside you at every opportunity, stripped down to just his tactical pants and his undershirt. His bicep kept brushing yours, making him shudder, but he seemed to be going out of his way to do it anyway.
“Your pulse is still a little elevated,” Economos said to you, checking the pulse oximeter he’d slipped onto your finger. “130.” You nodded, unsurprised. “Let’s get those scrapes cleaned up.”
Economos busied himself with the med kit and Adrian turned sideways to you on the bench.
“Can I check?”
“Check what?” you asked, genuinely confused.
Adrian laughed one of his wide, too loud laughs. “Your pulse?”
You glanced back at Economos who was still rifling through the kit, clutching a bottle of antiseptic in one hand, his brow furrowed. “I think we’ve got it covered, Adrian.”
“So you think a tiny robot is better at checking your pulse than me?” he asked, an urgent whisper.
“Did I say that?” you asked with a roll of your eyes. But Adrian was still staring at you in a way that was starting to make you both annoyed and also hot despite being stripped down to a tank top.
“Please just let me check,” he whined. With a heaved sigh, you acquiesced and gave him a nod, expecting him to reach for your wrist or your throat. Both bearable and socially acceptable options. Except Adrian snaked his bare hand up under your shirt, brushing against the underside of your breast, fingers pressing into that familiar space. Your breath caught in your throat.
“Adrian, what the fuck?” Adebayo gasped.
“What’s he doing now?” Chris asked as he wheeled around in the passenger seat. “Oh dude, come on.”
“What? What’s wrong?” Adrian asked, head snapping between you, Adebayo and Chris, genuinely looking for an explanation.
“Dude, you’re a fucking HR nightmare,” Economos sighed.
You blinked slowly, realizing everyone was looking at you for a reaction you were not providing. When had your own personal metric for normal behavior gotten so thoroughly screwed? You reached up slowly and wrapped your hand around Adrian’s wrist, pulling his attention back to you. His brow was furrowed, softening only slightly as he searched your face for understanding.
“Adrian, your hand is up my shirt,” you said slowly.
He rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah, I know? I’m looking for your pulse, dude.”
“I know, but uh…”
“You know?” Chris guffawed. His eyes darted rapidly between the two of you. “Is this like…wait a minute…is this like a regular thing between you two?”
You didn’t know how to answer the question. Because Chris wasn’t entirely off base. You guided Adrian’s hand out of your shirt and hoped your bra and shirt were doing enough work to hide the way your nipples had hardened at his touch.
Adrian laughed. “What is this, the Pervert Mobile? Driving all the local perverts around? You all see me with my hand up my partner’s shirt and you think, oh, Adrian’s trying to feel her up?”
“I mean, kinda, yeah?” Adebayo admitted with a shrug at the same time Economos said, “Yes.”
Harcourt only heaved a sigh from the front seat.
“That’s gross. You’re all gross weirdos with perverted brains. That’s where the strongest pulse point is! Apical pulse! Econogoat, give me your hand, I’ll show you!”
Economos recoiled and moved further out of the radius of Adrian’s reaching hands. “No fucking way, dude.”
“I’ll show you on me, not her, weirdo! No one gets to touch her except me.”
You watched numbly as Economos desperately tried to bat Adrian’s hands away until Adebayo had to get in between the two of them. Everyone was arguing but it was like you were experiencing the whole thing on mute, ears ringing as if Adrian had just set off a bomb between the two of you.
Adrian turned to you and smiled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Ads and Economos and scoffing, as if to say: get a load of these idiots! You could even hear his voice in your own head. You frowned back at him.
Economos finally managed to get in between you to clean out the scrapes on both elbows where you’d hit the deck hard, and gave you a once over for any other serious injuries.
“What about me?” Adrian pouted.
“You can bleed out for all I care!” Economos exclaimed, though it lacked the conviction John probably would have liked it to have.
“I said I was sorry for calling you a ‘touch-starved, Reddit-lurking virgin’! Not that you ever apologized for saying I was like ‘Weasel if he had no social skills’! That fucking hurt, man!”
“No you didn’t, you said ‘sorry you’re offended by the truth’. That’s not an apology, dude! And it’s not even true!”
“Right, just like the beard dye wasn’t true until it was!”
“You know what, Adrian, next time there’s an opportunity to kill someone with a chainsaw I’m going to do it on fucking purpose!” Economos yelled back. “Fuck you, dude!”
“The only person who should be mad at me in this truck is her and she’s not mad at me!” Adrian whined, pointing in your direction.
You inhaled slowly through your nose. “Adrian, I’m very mad at you.”
“Oh. But I…I mean…yeah, no, of course. That’s fair. I almost got us killed. So.” Shaking his head emphatically, Adrian’s eyes were searching you for something you couldn’t possibly give. Because it was the truth. You were so, so mad at him.
But mostly you were just grateful he was alive.
Harcourt admonishing them both from the driver’s seat finally seemed to get them both to settle and the only noise in the van went back to the low hum of whatever glamrock Chris was DJing from his phone.
Your head had just settled back against the wall when your heart leapt into your throat at the sensation of Adrian’s fingers slipping against your wrist. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at you. John was preoccupied with repacking the medkit and Adebayo was furiously typing into the field laptop, already on top of the utterly disastrous mission report. You were dreading the inevitable paperwork of tomorrow.
In the front seat you caught a glimpse of Chris’s hand giving Harcourt’s thigh a squeeze. She rolled her eyes at him but the corner of her lip quirked up in a private smile, and his hand still stayed. What would it be like, you wondered, to love someone out loud?
Adrian’s shoulder bumped yours just as you watched Emilia hook her pinky finger through Chris’s.
Adrian’s fingers tapped at your pulse point before they danced towards the edge of your palm and you knew before he spoke that your heart rate had only gone up further. He bumped his chin on your shoulder as he leaned forward to whisper, “143.”
You would have thought falling asleep that night would be easy. The sedative probably wasn’t even fully out of your system. But instead you laid flat on your back and stared at the ceiling, ignoring your phone lighting up with Adrian’s name on your bedside table.
There were many nights you’d laid awake, laughing into your pillow at whatever indecipherable meme he’d sent you. He somehow always knew when you’d be awake, mercilessly in tune with you.
But now the sight of his name on your phone felt different. Loaded in a way you were unwilling to unpack.
And yet, your curiosity got the better of you.
Adrian Chase: this is kinda us
Attached was a photo from…was that Romeo + Juliet? Leo DiCaprio and Claire Danes dead in the tomb from the end of the movie. Her head rested on his shoulder, curled into his side, him splayed out on his back, the camera aerial and looking down at them from above. You weren’t quite sure what to make of that. Was it sweet? Was it kind of a threat? Either way it made your heart twinge traitorously. You decided to roll with it, thankful for a reminder of the kind of rapport you and Adrian had once had.
It was easier with distance, with your face behind a screen. Where there was no possibility of your hands brushing, or seeing his stupid smile, or him sticking his fingers in your –
You: who’s who in this scenario?
Adrian Chase: obvi you’re Leo and I’m Claire
You: oh?
Adrian Chase: mostly just because of the positions
You: ???
Adrian Chase: what do you mean ???
Adrian Chase: ???????????
You: i literally do not know what you’re talking about
Adrian Chase: oh
Adrian Chase: you haven’t seen the picture?
Three little dots appeared and then disappeared then reappeared then –
Suddenly, Adrian was FaceTiming you and your finger hesitated over the button. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d ever FaceTimed you.
“PleaseyouhavetoactsosurprisedtomorrowIpromisedChrisIwouldn’ttellyou!” Adrian gasped out, a rapid-fire string of words that your tired brain took several extra seconds to parse out. His face was so close to the screen, his glasses off, and he was breathing too close to the phone’s microphone.
“Okay,” you sighed. You weren’t entirely sure what you were agreeing to, but whatever it took to assuage Adrian before he could circle the drain of full blown panic. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to act surprised about but I’ll do my best, Adrian.”
“Thank fucking god,” he said, seeming to finally catch his breath, his fingers unwinding from where they were gripping his curls tightly. He moved the phone slightly further from his face and then seemed to prop it beside him. It was then that you realized he too was laying down in his bed.
“You know I could have genuinely acted surprised tomorrow if we hadn’t had this conversation, Adrian,” you taunted, feeling your lips curling up in a small smile against your will.
“Fuck,” he hissed out. “Fuck, I fucked up.”
“You didn’t fuck up, Ade. I’m sure whatever it is will be great,” you attempted, even if the idea of Christopher Smith surprising you with something filled your entire being with dread. Adrian was frowning deeply so you decided to distract him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Me? Right as rain! How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” you lied. His brow furrowed.
“How’s your heart?”
“My – what?” you choked out, feeling the damned thing thudding traitorously in your chest.
“What’s your heart rate?”
You managed a breath. “Oh. I mean, I don’t know. I’m sure it’s – ”
“Check it right now,” he demanded, taking a surprising tone with you. He was slipping his glasses back onto his face, sitting up slightly in the little bit you could see of his dark room.
You smiled wryly. “Trying to see my tits again, Adrian?”
He frowned. “Why would I need to see your tits right now?”
Jesus Christ.
“I – forget it.”
“Oh, let’s check ours at the same time and compare!” he said suddenly. “You’re probably going to beat me, you’ve got such a good resting heart rate.”
“Okay, Adrian,” you agreed with a chuckle. Anything to stop him looking so desperately put-out.
“I’m going to do femoral, so you should do femoral, just so it’s fair,” he mumbled as you heard him readjusting in his bed. You sighed and slipped your hand between your legs, feeling around for your femoral pulse and actively trying to ignore the sudden heat between your legs. If it was anyone else in the world you would have assumed this was all some elaborate come-on, but it was Adrian.
“Don’t start yet!” he insisted.
“Why, giving yourself extra time to slow your heart rate down?” you taunted.
Adrian let out a huff. “My legs were all tangled in the sheets and that always stresses me out. So it wouldn’t really be baseline, now would it?”
You rolled your eyes. “You let me know when you’re ready, champ.”
“Now you’re just cheating,” he grumbled.
You propped yourself up slightly on your pillows, the heel of your hand accidentally brushing against your core. You hissed involuntarily at the slight graze, aware suddenly of how desperate for relief you were. Pivoting your brain away from that train of thought, you pressed your fingertips a little too hand into the inside of your groin. Maybe it’d leave a mark. Maybe that would be a good thing.
After a few moments, Adrian seemed to pull himself together and finally gave the go-ahead. You tried, really you did, but your mind strayed as you stared, bleary eyed, at your phone screen. You studied his sleepy face, grainy but still as handsome as always. Your eyes cut along his sharp jaw, the pink pout of his lips as he counted silently to himself, down the long expanse of his bare neck. It was a good face. A face that made something stir in your chest. A face that made you warm and lonely all at once.
“Goddamnit,” he cussed. “87. What about you?”
Fuck. You’d been drooling over Adrian for a minute like an absolute idiot.
“I dunno, Adrian, I’m tired, I lost focus,” you attempted. Another lie. What would happen if you told the truth? That you were suddenly struck by the intimacy of Adrian on the other end of the line, wanting nothing, simply making sure you were okay. He cared for you in a way that stretched beyond being partners in the field, beyond being desk buddies and past the clumsy physical relationship you’d stumbled in and out of.
And you were selfish enough to want more.
Adrian scoffed. “Lame. Should we go again?”
“Tell me you didn’t just call me so you could jerk off on the other end,” you said suddenly. Adrian sputtered. “Because you called me in the middle of the night and asked me to put my hand in between my legs to feel my heartbeat, Adrian.”
“Of course not! That literally hadn’t even crossed my mind!” There was a long pause. “Why, do you want to?”
You chewed at your lower lip.
It was a diabolically bad idea.
But when it came to Adrian, you never really could think straight.
“I dunno, maybe?” you said with a shrug that was mostly for your benefit. Trying to convince yourself of the levity of the thing. “It might help us fall asleep.”
“Okay! Yes! Just two besties getting each other off over the phone,” Adrian agreed, a little too eager, making you laugh. He grinned again.
“Exactly. It’s not a big deal,” you agreed, nodding maybe a little too much. A long moment passed between you two, only the sound of your synchronized breathing puncturing the heavy silence.
“What am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know, like…sexy stuff?” you offered. To be honest, this was not exactly your wheelhouse. You didn’t do relationships, so you’d never had someone call you looking for anything remotely like it. In the past, it’d always been convenient quick fucks on missions, on the road, back when you used to bounce around from job to job. Back before you’d put down roots. Back before you started to fear you could be becoming comfortable. And safe. That you could become a relationship person. “Like…what are you wearing, Adrian?”
“Um,” he mumbled, looking down like he’d forgotten. “Pokémon pajama pants? And I was too hot so I didn’t wear a shirt.”
“Can you show me?”
“Sure!” Adrian agreed, followed by a lot of fumbling around in the dark until you were pretty sure the camera was angled to show you his pants. At least you got a good glance at his abs somewhere along the way. “Sorry, it’s kind of dark, so you can’t really appreciate the details, but these ones have Snorlax on them. He glows in the dark! Or well, he used to.”
“That’s not what I…” you began but then you stopped yourself, because you found yourself smiling anyway. God, Adrian could be charmingly clueless sometimes. But weirdly you found you preferred that. It was kind of…nice. “You’re right they’re kind of hard to see, but they sound cool.”
“Yeah?” Adrian asked, breathless from contorting himself in his bed to best show off his pajama pants.
“Yeah. So is that your favorite Pokémon?” you wondered, genuinely curious.
“No, dude, my favorite is Infernape! I feel like I’ve told you that before,” he replied. “Wait, is this the sexy part? I feel like you’re not finding this sexy.”
That dragged a reluctant chuckle from you. You buried your face further into the pillow. “I don’t know, it might be sexy eventually.”
“Aren’t we supposed to like…touch ourselves?”
“I think that’s the point, yeah,” you agreed, not sure that was still the point of this particular conversation.
“Well, are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Touching yourself?” he clarified with a raise of his brows. “Sometimes I get hard just thinking about you, but I don’t feel horny right now? I just sort of feel…warm? Do you think I’m getting sick?”
“I’m warm, too,” you murmured, apparently the wrong thing to say because Adrian cursed under his breath.
“What if it’s a residual effect from the gas? I mean, we’re both feeling it!” he said with a slight pant. “Should I come over? Should I bring soup?”
“Why would you bring me soup if you’re feeling sick?” you laughed, despite your best attempt not to. He was slip-sliding into a classic Adrian spiral and you knew you shouldn’t laugh.
“We could eat it together! I would take care of you and you would take care of me,” he insisted. Somehow that sounded more erotic than anything else that had been said in the entire conversation. The domesticity of it made you press your thighs together. Jesus Christ, who were you becoming? Aching over the idea of Adrian nursing you while you were sick? You were pathetic.
“Adrian, we’re fine. We’ll get checked up tomorrow at work, I promise. Maybe it’s a good time to call it a night? We probably just need some rest.”
“Wait! But I – ” He paused, his brow scrunched together in a look of absolute consternation. You wanted to press your thumb to the space there and ease the tension. You wondered if you’d been too eager to assume Adrian wouldn’t bring up what you’d maybe or maybe not said earlier. It was never that easy.
“I just…like talking to you,” Adrian admitted quietly. Could he somehow hear how loud your heart was beating through the phone? It wasn’t what you were expecting, but it was better. It was good that Adrian wasn’t forcing you to examine things. That he wasn’t on the other end declaring his love for you or something.
If he’d heard you, he was being kind by not bringing it up. If Adrian felt even remotely similar you were sure he would have said something. And it was its own kind of answer, wasn’t it? One you could accept. Eventually.
“I like talking to you, too,” you replied after a long moment. His resulting smile was blinding, even in the dark of his room, even from the too-distant other end of a Facetime call.
“Yeah?” he breathed. “Wait, maybe say that again. I think I could get a little hard from that if you wanted to keep trying.”
You laughed. “Forget the phone sex thing, please.”
“I’m sorry I’m not good at this! I’ve never had phone sex before! But give me a little time to study, I’m sure I could nail it in the future,” Adrian said cheerily.
“I’m sure you could,” you agreed, which earned you a little hum of pleasure. You let your eyes flutter closed. “Can we just stay on the line until we both fall asleep?”
The request earned a pause so long you opened your eyes again. Adrian’s expression was…different. “Of course.”
Hunkering further down under your comforter, you nestled your phone against your pillow, facing you, before you let your eyes close once more.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Another thing for the list of things not to tell Chris?” You hummed in acknowledgment, so he’d know you were still listening. “Some days you’re my best friend in the whole world.”
What was one supposed to say to that? You didn’t know, and you bristled a little at the lack of anything that came to your brain. So you let it sit between you, unremarked upon, for better or worse. But Adrian didn’t need any extra encouragement to break the silence, as he came up with the idea to rattle off animal facts quietly until you both fell asleep.
Somewhere between Adrian insisting that stingrays are the Warios of manta rays and that whale sharks are not whales or sharks but a secret third thing, you slipped into a dreamless sleep.
It was framed.
That was somehow the worst part.
When Chris presented it to you at your desk, loosely wrapped in repurposed tissue paper, you at first were able to muster a smile. To laugh it off with everyone else. How funny! And aw, didn’t you two look cute!
But when everyone else walked away an unwelcome panic surged up and seized you by the throat as you gazed down at the framed picture still clutched in your hands.
Adrian and you. You and Adrian. Legs tangled, Adrian partly draped over you, his face tucked into your neck, your hands desperately clinging to each other over your chest, eyes gently closed. You looked peaceful. You looked like you belonged together. Wrapped up in the repose of those star-crossed lovers.
Except you weren’t, were you? You were Adrian’s sometime-best-friend and he was your…what?
So the framed photo sat on your desk beside your monitor and taunted you all morning while you shoved your headphones in your ears and tried really hard to look like you were deeply invested in answering emails and filling out the incident report that Adebayo had insisted upon on top of the regular mission report.
You could convince yourself that there was nothing between you two, aside from some fooling around between friends. Maybe you’d almost confessed something to him in a moment of dire panic, but you hadn’t, not really! And you could get over the festing feeling in your chest. Adrian was wandering around the office completely normally! You could do that too!
The blank page stared up at you, and you were struck by the idea that, actually, being sucked straight into its void would be preferable. What were you supposed to write?
Vigilante and I failed to correctly neutralize all threats, resulting in an escaped agent who was able to deploy sleeping gas. The gas rendered us unconscious, but actually we both thought we were dying and I think I maybe told him that I lov –
“Hey,” it was Adrian’s voice, surprisingly gentle, that startled you out of your apparently catatonic state. “You’ve had a pen to that paper for like…a weirdly long time now.”
You looked down at the pen clutched so tightly in your fingers that the skin of your knuckles was stretched taut. The incident report on your desk was still blank, the pen unmoving.
“Are you okay?” he asked. You must have glared up at him because his shoulders crept up towards his ears. “What I mean to say is, have you been feeling okay? You know? Since the whole, um, gas thing? Because we haven’t really talked about it and I thought maybe – ”
“I’m fine,” you interrupted, not meaning to be short with him. If you were being honest, you’d been bleary eyed and unfocused for days before the incident, but you’d seemingly reached a new low and been caught utterly lacking, by Adrian no less. No, you needed him to think you were fine and well-adjusted. Or, you had to at least make an effort at pretending.
“You don’t look fine,” Adrian said, and you knew he was just being blunt in the way that came naturally to him but it didn’t stop it from growing roots under your skin in just the wrong way.
How am I meant to be fine when I’m stuck staring at a reminder of the exact thing we cannot have all day? you wanted to ask.
“Well, I mean, my body isn’t exactly feeling amazing after being dosed with some mysterious sedative, Adrian,” you snapped, a little harsher than intended. You looked around but the office was seemingly empty. You glanced at the clock – how was it already lunchtime?
If he was offended, it didn’t show on his face. “Then we should go and get you checked out again.”
“No, I don’t need…” You took a deep breath. “I’m good.”
“What do you need?” he insisted, crouching down beside your chair. He grabbed it by the arm and spun it so you were forced to face him. “Because whatever you need, I’ll get it. Unless, if it’s like…an abstract need…but I could still help you figure it out. Probably. You might need to explain it to me though.”
“Does Chris know? That we’ve…uh…”
Adrian’s hands dropped back to his sides, something suddenly kind of deflated about him that made your stomach squirm. “I wouldn’t…don’t worry I won’t ever tell anyone. Because, look, I’m not always reading things right but I’m pretty sure that’s not what you want? Unless you…did want – ?”
“I don’t.”
“No, yeah, right, of course! And I knew that. And, I totally agree.”
Nobody knew. Not even Chris. And that was…good. The right call.
“Then why did Chris let you see that photo before me?” you asked suddenly. “Why didn’t he just text it to me or something?”
“He’s my best friend?” Adrian replied, sounding uncertain himself. He shifted his weight slightly and ducked his head closer to you like you two weren’t already alone. Like he wasn’t kneeling in front of you, one hand on your knee. “Also, I think he was worried that seeing it would cause a…um, physical reaction, if you catch my drift? And he didn’t want the first time I saw it to be in front of everyone at work because that would be,” he paused and cupped his hands around his mouth as if to shout, “embarrassing!”
“Did you get hard when you saw it?” you asked suddenly. That was unfair of you. Adrian’s eyes flicked to your mouth, and then your throat and then back. Everywhere he’d looked felt like he’d left searing heat in his wake.
“I mean obviously. I’m just a man with excellent sense memory recall. But don’t worry I talked myself out of it. To be respectful,” he said simply, looking a little proud, frankly.
“Right,” you managed, a strained chuckle.
“Um, so about the thing I mentioned earlier – ”
“Hey losers, you better not be fucking on my desk!” Rip called out, returning to the office with an armful of Taco Bell. Adrian’s head hung between his shoulders for just a moment before he shot to his feet with a sharp inhale.
“Only person I’ve been fucking on your desk is your mom, you little twerp!”
Freed from Adrian’s attention, you shot to your feet and beelined for the bathroom, cursing under your breath the whole way. Something was seriously, profoundly wrong with you.
“Wait!” Adrian called, but you ignored him and picked up the pace, nearly breaking into a dead sprint to get away from him.
Maybe you could give Adrian some far-fetched excuse for your behavior lately. Something that would allow you to take it all back. Maybe you could convince him you’d actually been possessed for the last few months.
He’d probably believe that, actually.
Staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror you raked your hands over your face, pressing too hard into the skin. You were a goddamn mess.
Just get it out of your system.
You just needed to get over whatever this was and everything would be fine again. And then you’d be able to push it all down and aside and you’d finally be able to think clearly, focus in the field, not waste time wondering what it would be like to have Adrian bare and curled around you in your bed.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” you hissed at yourself.
It wouldn’t hurt him. It couldn’t hurt him. He didn’t feel the way you felt, you were sure of it. If he had…he would have said something by now, surely. Adrian was never one for subtlety. No, you’d all but confessed to him and he’d carried on, Adrian as usual.
Evidently, Adrian as usual meant kicking the bathroom door open with his hand clasped firmly over his eyes, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. His shoulder banged against the doorframe as he stumbled in blindly, free hand slapping against the wall to grope along the tiles until he was standing at the sink beside you.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you groaned.
“Are you decent, can I uncover my eyes?”
“Why would I be naked standing at the communal sink in the unisex bathroom, Adrian?”
“I don’t know what girls do in bathrooms!” he huffed, then spread his fingers so he could peek through at you. Finally he dropped his hands down to his sides and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “I feel like you had the right idea, to run away from Judomaster. Maybe I’ll start doing that whenever he talks to me. Fuck, but then he’ll think I’m a coward and I am not a fucking coward. Don’t tell anyone this but sometimes I wish he’d just do something illegal so that I could kill him without Harcourt getting pissed about it.”
You blinked slowly, so abruptly shaken out of your own self-consuming spiral. You even managed a laugh as you replied, “I think Harcourt would still be pissed about it.”
Adrian smiled, something languid and warm and unfair. “You sound like yourself again.”
“What does that mean?”
He shrugged. “Means you’ve just seemed…different. Like...distant, kinda?”
Your lips pressed into a thin line and you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Um, so, I’ve been thinking and I really think we should talk about what happened with the mission and what you said and I know we seem to keep getting interrupted but I — wait, I thought you said you were fine?” Adrian asked suddenly, his voice strangely high and tight in his throat as he pivoted from whatever he’d been about to say. You rolled your eyes, about to make a retort when you felt wetness on your upper lip just before you tasted the coppery bloom on your tongue.
You sighed. “I am fine. Whatever they put in that shit really dried my sinuses out and I keep getting nosebleeds. I just need some Aquaphor and it’ll – ”
“Ads has Aquaphor in her top desk drawer,” Adrian interjected and before you could tell him about the tube sitting next to your keyboard he had taken off.
With him away from you for a moment you felt like you were able to take a deep breath, even if you could taste blood at the back of your throat. You braced your hands against the edge of the counter and gave your sore shoulders a decisive roll. Before you could reach for a paper towel to clean yourself up Adrian was back, slamming the jar of Aquaphor down on the sink beside you.
You twisted to look at him over your shoulder but instead of thanking him as your brain intended you shifted your weight ever-so-slightly forward and fell into him, lips and all. You could feel your blood smear between you two, warm and slick, but after a beat of surprise that only seemed to spur Adrian on.
He licked across your mouth and then into it, and you could taste your own blood on your tongue. It was all at once repulsive and unsettling and also strangely intimate. A little too focused on the sensation of Adrian pulling your head back by the hair, you didn’t notice his other hand slipping its way under your shirt until his bare fingers were pressed into your ribs. His kiss was heavy, hot, his mouth and his firm grip controlling. It was as though he wanted to pry you apart, to lick at your bones. His hand was so far up your shirt it was like he was trying to climb inside your clothes with you.
A faint tingling at the back of your nose made you realize your nose was absolutely still bleeding. And you couldn’t find the energy to care. Part of you thought: good. Everything about you and Adrian’s lives was soaked in blood anyway, why shouldn’t this be too?
Adrian’s leg pressed between yours as he pinned you up against the bathroom sink and your arms wound their way around his neck, pulling him down as close to you as humanly possible. So firmly pressed together you could feel his heart hammering in your own chest. His hips ground against yours just slightly and you both moaned into each other’s mouths at the same time.
“Sick,” Adrian whispered before slipping his tongue back between your lips. Before you could even process what was happening, his hands slipped under your ass and lifted you onto the sink. He resettled himself in the space between your thighs and gave your hair a slight tug. Your mouth dropped open and you reeled back slightly, the awful part of your brain surging back to life with a vengeance. Adrian, undisturbed, moved his mouth to your jaw and then your neck, tongue tracing your jugular all the way down to your collarbone where he bit down hard.
It felt like an undeserved pleasure. Something that would only keep you up at night, remembering what it had once been like to let Adrian make you feel alive. Frankly, it would have been easier to have been punched straight in the face.
Hands braced against his chest, you pushed Adrian back. He stayed where he collided with one of the stall doors, his chest heaving, his brow wrinkled in confusion. You slid off the sink and paced for a moment, brain scrambling for any words at all. Something that might help you explain, that actually it wasn’t him. It was never him. It was always you and your dumb, greedy brain, wanting more than you could have.
“We’re friends, right?” you asked, even though those weren’t the words you wanted, not really.
“Of course we’re friends. I told you, you’re my bestie!”
You looked at Adrian finally, his face smeared in your blood. His tongue darted out and traced his lower lip.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. This was a bad idea,” you whispered, backing up, only to have the sink bite into your hip. At least it was somewhat grounding, you supposed. A painful reminder of exactly where you were even if everything else didn’t make any fucking sense at all. You could practically taste your heartbeat with how fast it was fluttering, like there was some desperate bird trapped in the cage of your ribs. “I thought I could be excisive. I thought I could just…just get you out of my system.”
Adrian frowned, eyes sharp on you as he repeated your words slowly back to you, like he was trying to make sense of the shape of them, all foreign sounds on his tongue. “You want me out of your system? I don’t think I understand what’s happening right now. Did I do something wrong?”
Your mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. You couldn’t tell him you wanted him in a way that terrified you – in the kind of bone deep, painful, longing way. In a way you knew would only lead to hurt somewhere down the line.
Because you…and Adrian…you’re not people built for normal things like love.
And if you were a different, better, more well-adjusted person you could separate the physical and the emotional. But for some reason, when it comes to Adrian, you are incapable.
So, you did the only thing you could do – you clamped your mouth shut and you left Adrian standing alone in the bathroom.
if you want to join my adrian taglist feel free to comment below! i'm not adding anyone to my taglist who is younger than 18, so if you have your age in your profile or you let me know you're 18+ we're good to go! :)
adrian chase x reader
a/n: reader has powers like skarlet from mortal kombat and there's a brief mention of cannibalism.
The heels of your boots clicked on the pavement that was littered with blood. The man in front of you hung by the ropes of blood that came up from the ground. You watch as he cries, tears and snot running down his face “You’re disgusting" you mutter before summoning a knife and pointing it to his Adams apple.
“Now are you gonna answer my questions now , or do you want to end up like your friends?” your eyes glance over at the bodies that were currently being dragged off to the side by Adrian.
“Where is the brief case?” you start trailing the knife down to his chest, pressing it into his chest.
“You look so hot babe!” you heard Adrian yell from behind the wall. You can feel your face burn at his comment as you start to slowly push the knife into the man's chest.
“For someone who likes to talk shit all the time you can’t seem to talk now”
“I don’t know where it is” the guy yells with fear in his voice ”Yes you do!” you scream out, moving the knife from his chest to shove it into his thigh.
The man cried out in pain “Where is it! Tell me now or I’ll gut you like I did the rest of your friends!” a sword made its way into your hand as you pressed the tip into his stomach.
“I don’t know!” his voice rasps from his cries “Oh you still don’t know” you mocked, moving back from him “Well that’s too damn bad” your raise your arm with the sword in hand moving to swing at him before he voices out “It’s in the forest!” he forced out “What forest?”
“The one near Gleermer Lake!”
“See that wasn’t so hard now huh” you tease. You see a relieved look on his face as he sees your arm move down to your side.
“I still gotta kill you though” you shrug, slicing him in half dropping his body onto the floor.
You reach for the empty vials that sat in the pouch on your belt. You open it up and place it underneath a stream of blood that came from his freshly cut body.
“Uh babe?” you hear Adrian say as he gets closer to where you’re crouched down “What are you doing?”
“Collecting his blood” you responded like it was the most normal thing in the world. “But why? Doesn't your blood come out of you like a spider?”
“No it does…I just like having some to scare them with” you close up the vial and place it back into your pouch “And it’s just for precaution just in case” you can hear him let out a breath of relief “Oh thank god! I thought I was going to have to kill you” you eyes widen “What why!”
“I thought it was because you were getting into cannibalism!"
“Adrian, we've been dating for two years! Why would you think I would be into cannibalism!”
“I don’t know! I thought it was like a secret fetish thing”
You let out a sigh before grabbing his hand and making your way to the forest “You are so lucky I love you or I would’ve socked you in your mouth”
fbi! dex who tries to leave you but it only last a few hours.
a bad day at work that turned into him destroying his apartment, forgetting that the two of you had plans together in the process. after he sees your concerned face at the wreckage, he knows it's only a matter of time until it's over. even when you tell him that it's okay and you were just worried about him. staring at his knuckles that were blooded form punching the wall.
so to try and dull the pain he's expecting, he decides that he'll leave you first. snapping at you to just rip the band aid off and get out of his apartment. immediately feeling ten times worse once you do what he says. after an hour of crying on his knees, now having moved past the rage part of his breakdown into the sadness part, and then another hour hyperventilating at the shambles his life is in, he grabs his phone. seeing a text from you that he missed.
when you're ready to let me back in, just come over to my house. we'll figure out how to make things better together.
the text is enough to pull him back together. he picks up flowers on the way to your place. google told him that's what boyfriends do when apologizing. he hides his face behind the bouquet when you open the door. hesitant eyes peering over the flowers until you reach out to grab his empty hand, pulling him inside with a small smile.
and suddenly, his bad day and the rollercoaster of emotions finally comes to an end. because as he looks at you, all he can feel is a high coming on.
Tags: +18; mdni; smut; f!reader; Adrian Chase x f!reader; mentions of violence and gunfire; oral f!receiving; slightly sub Adrian; no use of y/n; a bit of dry humping; overstimulation; Adrian just talking a lot and trying to be persuasive.
A/N: It's bad because it's literally my first time writing anything, lmao. I'll get better with time, I promise. Also, english is not my first language, so there are some mistakes.
You barely noticed the first time this new idea bubbled up in his head. You were listening to one of Adrian's usual rants when he suggested that you should join him in one of his drug raids. You laughed it off, and he didn't bring it up until a week later. Then again the following week, and it became a regular thing for him.
"You should really come with me. It's like, super fun, I swear! Especially when they try to shoot you and you have to kill them all!" His eyes were wide, bright like he was back in the middle of a firefight. His enthusiasm was almost convincing, and it crossed your mind once or twice to actually do it.
"No, Adrian." You cut him off. He already knew your reasons. Too much risk, not enough time, not your duty... But he just couldn't take a no for an answer. He needed to share that experience with you so badly and wouldn't let months of insisting and begging end in a simple denial.
"Come on, just once! I beg you! I'll do whatever you want for a month, forever even." He insisted, letting his voice rise until it was barely more than a whiny plea as he stepped into your space.
The way he groaned made you bite your cheek to keep from laughing in his face. "Adrian, I'm not gonna do that. Stop." You were ready to change the subject when a quiet thud, muffled by the carpet of your living room, interrupted you. He dropped on both his knees.
It must have hurt judging by the little high pitched protest he let out immediately. "Pleaseeeee... I'll drive you anywhere, you just call me and I'll do it. I—I'll get you free breakfasts from Fennel Fields, just—please." His hands reached up to hold onto your hips, a bruising grip that felt like he was only relying on your body not to land his face on the carpet.
"Free breakfasts are not worth risking my life in one of your raids." You refused yet again, smiling down at his dumb face, unable to keep your hand to yourself. Your cold fingers traced his warm cheeks. "And what about the drives?" He asked as if it would magically change your mind, not caring about your thumb already hovering over his damp lips. "I have a car." And no protest followed from his side as your finger brushed past his lips, feeling the sharp edge of his front teeth.
"I'll do anything you ask me to... just, come with me." His breath started to dampen your fingertip, growing warmer with every word. Just a simple shake of your head, denying him yet again, and he was disarmed. "Ughhhh-fuck. You're so beautiful..." A gentle squeeze on your hips, groping the tender flesh above the waist of your jeans, followed the long whine.
"I thought we were talking about a drug raid here." You teased, slowly crouching down to his level as his hands slid lazily up. "Please, come with me. I'll be yours, I'll let you do whatever." He insisted weakly, cradling your face and leaning into you as if he couldn't control himself.
"You already let me do whatever, how's that supposed to convince me?" You spoke with a smirk on your face as your hands got bolder, sneaking beneath his clothes. You felt his muscles tense and barely had time to react before he pressed his mouth to yours and pushed until your back hit the carpet.
But even then, he kept babbling and pleading into your mouth. Between kisses, you smiled at his words. "I'll take all of them down for you... you just have to watch." His kisses grew a bit sloppier, and his hips twitched unconsciously against you, seeking friction.
He rutted relentlessly against your thigh, breathing your air and tangling his fingers into your hair. "God, please... I love you. You're perfect. Come with me."
He was completely gone, trying to crawl into your skin, oblivious to everything else. "I'd rather not see you getting shot in front of me." You mumbled, barely able to move your lips against his. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, digging into your cheek until you reached to take them off.
His breath grew erratic and you could feel the goosebumps on his skin. Blood roared in his ears as he had to push himself up from you, looking up with wide glassy eyes at the smug smile on your face.
His large hands found your hips again, digging his fingers into your flesh before hooking them into the waist of your jeans, pulling slowly as you stretched your legs up to make the work easier for him. Once they were out of his way, there was no stopping him.
"I want you to be there with me, please..." A brainless little mumble left his mouth as his head lowered. Wet lips brushed the skin of your lower belly, making your breath hitch. "I'll think about it." Your hands instinctively reached out to tangle in his blonde curls.
"Yes, please. I'll do whatever. I'll make you change your mind." His lips moved down over your skin as he spoke, leaving behind a sweet trace of kisses before finally making contact with your wet skin. All the times you spent guiding him, telling him how to do it, ended up making him an addict. His tongue dragged up, flat between your folds sucking against your clit.
He made your toes curl, and accidentally tug at his hair a bit harsher than intended. The noise he let out was bordering sinful, something you didn't even know he could do. "Nghh—shit... Ah..." He dove back down before you could do anything about it, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you in place as he made you gasp beneath his mouth.
The insistence of his tongue had you clenching around nothing, squeezing your thighs around his head so tight you could feel him struggling. Even then, he didn't stop. You couldn't regulate your breath, your hands were trembling and he kept going for more.
"Adrian... God—Adrian, stop." You whined out, pulling his hair violently so he would reluctantly lift his head. He was breathless, looking up at you from between your thighs as one single thread of spit still connected you to him.
He didn't wait for you to say anything else, the sight or your flushed face was enough for him to lunge forward and let you taste yourself on his tongue.
of course it was just a job at first , just a another person they asked him to keep tabs on but there was something that made you stand out to him . he’s never really had love , never felt it for anyone and he can’t even say for sure if this is what it is but it has to be something right ?
the obsession started small , just simple things like your daily routine , the steps you take everyday and the places you normally go to . then it’s the things you eat , the foods you like and the drinks you get to the t , the allergies you have and the foods you utterly despise . your friends , your families , of course things he needs to know for the job but it gets to the point where he starts to investigate them as well to find more information on you , things he doesn’t need to know that much . upbringing yea but baby pictures ? don’t think so
i mean he lets you go in the end , to ‘ soft ? ’ to bring you in even though you’re probably a threat , why would the fbi be looking for you in the first place . but he just can’t help it , if you’re in prison , or worse dead , how can he keep an eye on you ? he wouldn’t be able to watch you do things through your window all day , watch you sleep from the balcony , send you gifts from an admirer with things he knows you like . because dex would rather leave the fbi than lose this hold you have over him
and when you two ‘ randomly ’ met by some ‘ chance ’ it all felt right . in those days when you two would casually hang out , because why not have some fun , he seemed to know the exact things you like , you found this . . . charming per say . the way he’d court you with flowers and gifts and small things that matter . the way he’d get jealous whenever you went out with anyone but him , the snarling and the hidden frowns and the sudden footsteps in your humble abode at midnight . it was all part of the plan wasn’t it ???
to get dex head over heels , obsessive , crazy in love , a love only a willow tree can conjure type shit . . . it’s why you did all those things to get the fbi’s attention . dex isn’t the mastermind , it’s you :)
dex needs constant reassurance during sex. he could be pounding into you, making you see stars with his cock, and he would still be asking you if he's doing okay.
"am i- is this okay? baby, tell me m'good-- please" he's whining muffled words into the crook of your neck as his tip slams against your g-spot repeatedly, enough to have you clawing at his back, leaving angry red marks on his skin.
he's focused solely on your pleasure, he gets off when you get off. so when you're too fucked-out to reply to him, he's panicking. he doesn't understand that he's making you feel so good to the point where you can't form a coherent sentence.
"is it not good? oh god- do y'not like it?" he tends to spiral, so you have to talk in order to keep him going. "i-it's good, dex-- fuck!-- feels s'good" your fingers card through his hair, tugging at the blonde strands, which earns you a choked whimper.
"y-yeah?" he moans out whorishly, his breath hot against your neck. he's desperately trying to keep his pace from faltering. "tell me- can you tell me y'love me? p-please?" he snakes his hand down between both of your sweaty bodies and rubs tight circles on your clit, causing you cry out and arch into him further as pleasure shoots through your limbs. "love you!" you mewl, the only thing you can say when he's making you feel like this.
your orgasm crashes over you with his name lingering on your tongue, your pussy clenching and fluttering around him obscenely. he finishes directly after you, he was only holding off because he always makes sure you cum first. he doesn't want to be selfish, after all.
he collapses on top of you, practically panting. his cock is still sitting inside of you, his warm release settling. he'd probably never admit it, but your words of praise are his favorite part of sex.
summary ✦ You’re a member of the 11th Street Kids. One that Harcourt can trust to actually get the job done. So what happens when Adrian’s sent in to warn you and you’re slipped a mind control drug, forcing Adrian to face feelings he’s never felt before?
warnings ✦ Light smut rn, but 18+ in later parts, sub!Adrian (your welcome), asexuality (or maybe not), confused sexuality, kissing, porn mentioned (nothing explicit or descriptive), command kink
notes ✦ I FINALLY GOT PART 2 DONE aaaa Part 3 is already drafted! It’s the final part of the series (should be up shortly). I hate to be that girl but honestly part 3 is my fave. I can’t wait for you to read it!
If anyone wants to be on the taglist for the next part, comment or message me <333
Part 1
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
It had been a week since the incident. The incident Adrian refused to talk about.
Apart from a pounding migraine the following morning, the only lasting symptom was how strange Adrian had been acting.
Not that you had a chance to speak to him.
It was excuse after excuse. First he claimed to be too busy on missions to hang out. Then Eagly needed walking. Then he needed to leave because the desk lamp was making him nauseous.
Avoiding you was starting to become more suspicious than simply admitting whatever had happened.
Chris hit his limit this morning, after Adrian nearly launched himself out of the car window to avoid talking to you. It was as obvious to him, as it was to the rest of the 11th Street Kids what had Adrian so flustered.
Yet there he sat, with his over-sized noise-cancelling headphones, shoulders curled over his desk as though he could disappear into it.
Chris leant over his desk, knocking the headphones off Adrian’s head. “Dude, what the fuck is up with you this week.”
He stared at Chris like he was speaking another language.
“I think I have a brain tumor,” he finally answers.
Chris sighs, fingers nursing his brow bone before he asks, “Is this still about the horny wet dream reenactment the other day?”
“N-no.”
“Let me tell you if it had been me and Emilia in your shoes it would’ve been–”
“Hey guys,” you interrupt.
They stare like someone had just launched a grenade between them.
“How’s your wound doing? I’m still really sorry I cut you the other day,” you say.
You got a brief summary of the events from Emilia – something about a mind control drug, trying to come onto him and slashing his thigh. She didn’t share the full extent of what went down, much to Adrian’s relief, the fact he was in control was still a secret.
“Yeah, fine, fine – it’s healed.” he answers abruptly, refusing to look up at you.
“Oh, thank god! I was so worried,” you sigh, moving to your desk.
Chris shoots a stern look back at Adrian. “What is your problem?” he hisses.
“I don’t know.”
He really didn’t know.
Why couldn’t he look you in the eye anymore? He normally loved talking to you about what animals he’d seen on his way into work, but now he’d do anything to avoid uttering one word to you.
It wasn’t like you knew anyway. You didn’t know that his perverted thoughts had run wild. Did you?
Surely you must know something's changed? Can't you smell his sins clinging to him like the stench of rotting flesh?
His stare snagged on the blank computer screen, unblinking. Sweat gathered at his temples. Heat climbed his neck until his cheeks burned.
“Bro, is this your first boner?” Chris sighs.
“Wha–No! I’m, I’m just confused.”
“Confused about what? The hot girl you’ve been crushing on for months was all over you?”
“She wasn’t really all over me, that was the drug.”
“Yeah, but have you noticed she’s completely fine about it? She’s the one chasing after you, to see if you’re ok.”
“Okay, yeah but, but she doesn’t know it was me,” he sighs.
“But what? She’s hot, you like her, she seems to tolerate you. What's the issue?”
“I-I’m just confused, I've never felt this thing before.”
Chris scoffs, slumping back into his chair. “Jesus, this is your first boner.”
“That’s a lie! Because I always get hard from the vibrations of my gun.”
“Then, dude what the fuck is it? Because you are the only one here making this weird.”
“I just don’t get it – like sex is sex. It’s just sex, you get hard, it feels a little tingly then it's done. But that night, I thought my head was going to explode, I couldn’t breathe but I was also having a heart attack. Maybe the drug was contagious and I’m allergic. It was like a colony of ants crawling up my thigh.”
“Just talk to her,” he sighs before turning back to his desktop, fed up with Adrian’s antics. “Or watch some shit. Hell, we can go to the strip club later if you don’t have a meltdown about it.”
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
He actually did his homework.
Two hours of some low-budget porn, strippers, topless bars with a waitress who was way too flirty. Yet, still he felt nothing.
It didn’t make sense.
No uncomfortable burning in his cheeks. No tightness in his chest. Why was it only you?
Tonight was Chris’ last attempt. After a week of dragging Adrian from bar to bar, only to watch him scare away any girl who asked so much as the time, he was at his wits end.
Truly a lost cause.
The neon sign flickers across the window. Two pints rest on their coasters; one drained to the dregs, the other slowly goes flat. Adrian and Chris sit on barstools, joined by two girls. Their names, Adrian had no idea; only that one smelt of sickly-sweet candied perfume.
Stale ale and tobacco, suffocating. Eyes straining under the dim lights. Middle-aged men crowded the pool table, shouting over one another until thinking became work.
“Dude again?” Chris says, as the two girls get up to leave their table. “I thought you said you wanted to come out and pick up chicks with me?”
“I do, I do! I think I do?”
“You think?”
“This horny shit is all so confusing,” he whines.
“I know, little man, I know,” Chris says, knowingly patting Adrian on the back. “Have you considered maybe it’s not all women? Maybe it’s just her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, this only happened when she was coming onto you.”
No, it couldn’t be. You were friends, nothing more. He'd listened to you rant about exes, about terrible dates. He didn’t care then, so why would it be any different now?
It wouldn't.
It couldn't.
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
“We need to talk,” you snap, leaning over his desk.
He'd spent a whole week avoiding you. You'd tried to give him space, hoping he'd work through whatever was going on. That changed when he refused to take the only empty seat in the meeting room simply because it was next to you.
“We’re talking,” he answers, glasses slipping down his nose as he looks down.
“Don’t play stupid.” You catch his arm, steering him towards the break room.
At least there he couldn’t bolt.
“What is up with you? You’re avoiding me,” you question. “Chris said you won’t leave your bedroom either”
“Nothing.”
“Adrian, I know you’re hiding something because you never speak in just one word.”
“I do. See, I’m saying more than one word right now.”
“Can you just talk to me seriously? Maybe I can help with whatever it is.”
A cough announces Chris’ presence, as he peaks through the doorway. “He’s questioning his entire existence – thinks he’s dying because he now feels horny”
“This? Still? Really? I thought you calmed down about this.”
Shoulders clenched, face burning, he was sure that if he looked at you for even a second, you'd know.He didn’t even want to be dealing with this anyway, let alone with you.
He took the one window of opportunity he had. The second you both looked, he was gone, darting down the corridor.
He knows it lame, he knows it makes him seem like such a dork but he just can’t face you. Not when he doesn’t even understand this himself.
“Should we go after him?”
“Leave it,” you mutter.
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
He didn’t have to wait, or even decide whether to avoid you any longer because there you were standing at his door, pizza in hand.
“Hey, so, sorry for coming around uninvited but Chris told me you were upset after today and this is my way of saying sorry,” you say, smiling shyly.
You hold out his favourite — a ham and pineapple pizza, with extra cheese and a stuffed crust.
He stares, not moving from his position.
“I can drop the pizza and leave, but don’t lie and say you’re not upset when you ran away from me today.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Adrian!”
He gives you a sheepish look before moving aside, letting you into his house.
You slip inside, the awkward silence following you through the doorway. Taking a seat on a bar stool, you wait for him to say something.
“So the other night,” you start.
“It was so weird you were all over me,” he bluntly answers, fumbling to open the pizza box.
“I know,” you sigh, hiding your embarrassed face in your palms. “Emilia said it was some weird effect Flag had added in to create confusion. I’m really sorry though.” You take a deep breath, “It’s so mortifying. I’m really sorry, that must have made you so uncomfortable.”
He was happy you didn’t know the real reason. He felt a little relieved even but still couldn’t hide the shame in his face whenever he looked at you.
“Yeah-h thanks,” he answers awkwardly.
He couldn’t hide how nervous he felt in your presence. Not because you made him uncomfortable but because he was feeling things. Things he’s never felt before for the first time. Sensations he didn’t even know existed.
Sure, he’d had sex before but that was just it sex. No heart racing, no cloudy thoughts, no skin on fire.
Chris wasn’t too far from the truth the other day. He’s joined him for threesomes before, even once or twice had a drunken one night stand but he’s never had a wet dream, or any dream of that nature before.
Actually, he never even really thought about sex. I mean it was just sex.
Then girls, yeah sure, he could see when they were pretty and he’d even tell his mom he had a girlfriend, but he never thought about them.
Then here you were, consuming his every thought like a virus surging through his body.
“You ok?” you ask.
“No,” he answers between bites of pizza, fully zoned out.
“What! What can I do? Can I–”
“Wait! No, I'm ok.”
“You just said you’re not ok?” you sigh, cocking your eyebrows.
He walks past you, throwing himself face first into the settee cushions.
“I think — I think I’m dying,” he finally answers, his words muffled against the cushions.
“What!?” you cry.
“I thought my heart was going to explode that night, my face hurt, it was so hot. I couldn’t breathe in my suit.”
“What? Why didn’t you say anything! Did you get drugged too?”
“No,”
"But my dick hurt so bad I wanted to cut it off.”
You stare, realising the weight of his confession, even if he didn’t fully realise it himself.
“Ah–,” you sigh, eyes wide. “I’m gonna get a beer. You want a beer?”
You excuse yourself to retrieve the four-pack from your bag. You thought he was mad at you, or even uncomfortable being around you after what happened.
You didn’t expect this.
“Don’t stress. It's like, very normal,” you say, slipping back into your perch.
You didn’t want to process that you were actually having this conversation with Adrian. Adrian who has saved your life on more than one occasion. Adrian who you called a close friend. That was now having an existential crisis because you came onto him.
“It is not normal for me! I thought my heart was going to explode.”
“Yeahhh, that’s normal, I promise.”
“What – So every time, you know, you – you think you’re dying?”
“Not exactly, but – Haven’t you had sex before?” you ask awkwardly. “What did you feel then?”
“Tired, like I’d just worked out.”
“Oh.” You try to mask the shock in your voice. “Well, um, what was different about the other night?” you ask.
You didn’t even have the mental capacity to unpack whether this was because you were so deep in a friend-zone, or because this was actually new to him.
Worse, he’s disgusted by the thought of being turned on by you.
“I thought I was going to die,” he murmurs into his beer. “It was all normal, I felt nothing. It was all fine, then I just felt everything. Now, I don’t know what to do – I think I’m dying.”
He sits in quiet contemplation, picking at the beer label bottle. It’s like you can see the literal cogs turning in his head.
“Ok, this is insane. I blame Chris for putting the idea in my head earlier but what if I help?”
“Help?”
You bite your lip, toying in your mind with how to word it. “Please don’t make me spell it out..” you whine, heat rising to your cheeks. “Fine. Like, if it’ll help, and you’ll stop thinking you're dying, we can recreate the other night to like figure this thing out.”
“What.“
He simply stared, brows pinched together, like he was still trying to catch up with what you'd said.
“I am willing to drug myself again if necessary.”
“I’m not drugging you!” he snaps, tensing in his seat.
“Fine. What if, what if, I just pretend?”
“Pretend?”
“Like, I’ll still do everything you say but not actually with the drug, so you know it’s less weird. Well, not really but..”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“This is purely professional, but yes.”
“But what do I say?”
“I don’t know, whatever you want I guess.”
“But how is this going to work?”
You let out a deep breath, gnawing at the edge of your lip.
“God, I didn’t really think this through — em, let’s say anything goes, but we’ll act like it didn’t happen after.”
“Ok.. I still don’t understand? So, do I talk to you, or just tell you to get me things?”
“Anything I guess?”
“Okay. So when do we..?”
“Maybe tonight? I feel like I have less time to back out if we do this now,” you say, a nervous laugh escaping.
He sways on his feet, lips parting as he makes his first request. “Please, get me a water.”
“Adrian! We haven’t started yet!”
“But you said, ‘now’.”
“Ok fine! I’ll set a timer on my phone. An hour from now, once I click, we start.”
You both stand still as you fumble your phone out of your pocket. Neither of you spoke. The silence hung between you like fog, dense enough to hide inside. You didn’t dare say anything.
This was probably a mistake.
No, it was definitely a mistake. Now he’s looking over at you with those sweet, hopeful eyes, you can’t just shut this down.
The timer buzzed softly between you.You glance up at him, with a shy nod of confirmation.
“Can I have water?”
You obediently make your way over to the sink. Then place down the fresh glass of water in front of him.
He takes a sip, thumb tracing the condensation on the glass while he toys with what to ask next.
“Sit,” he says.
Like a dog following its commands, you obey.
“Now stand,” he says as he laughs a little, while you hold back rolling your eyes.
“Tell me your favourite Pokémon.”
“Eevee,” you answer, wondering if he was taking this seriously.
“Get me a snack.”
From your bag you place a half-crumpled snickers bar on the table.
“This is so much fun,” he giggles to himself.
His laughter is cut short by the muffled sound of Barbie Girl from his pocket.
“Oh, can you wait five? Peacemakers calling.”
He thumbs at the singing device in his palms, the screen lighting up his face.
“Hey BFF–” Adrian chimes into the phone, before being abruptly cut off by a voice on the other line.
“What no, she’s over here.”
Adrian cradles the phone to his ear. Even muffled, Chris is impossible to miss as he shouts a firm, “hang up on me now.”
“No, it’s ok, we’re playing a game where she does anything I say,” he whispers.
“It’s like a game – she does whatever I ask for an hour,” he says nonchalantly.
“What no – It’s to try and help me relax.”
There’s a pang of silence, before you can hear the distinct sound of Chris screaming down the line. The phone slips in Adrian’s hand as he recoils from the noise, accidentally slipping it on to speaker.
“Dude, if you don’t get your head out your ass right now,” Chris hisses through the phone, “I’m hanging up. Read the list I sent.”
He stares blankly at his phone screen as the messages from Chris roll in.
“Okay, so Peacemaker says kiss m— oh my god, I’m not saying that,” he giggles.
With your palms resting on your lap, you lean forwards until your lips meet.
“I didn’t say — okay um, I don’t think I can read the rest of these,” he responds, barely above a mutter, a growing blush on his cheeks.
“What does ‘talk dirty to me’ mean? Is that like trash talk?” he said, like the words were foreign on his tongue.
“No, dirty talk is like…” You lean towards him. “I’ve always wanted to see how hot you look under that suit.”
He freezes, hair rising up his neck.
“K-keep going.”
Your voice drops low. “I think it’s hot how flustered you're getting right now. I bet you’re picturing bending me over that—”
He clears his throat.
“Do you want me to keep going?” you whisper.
“No–no that’s okay. Um, what else does it say – it says kiss the nape? The nape? Is that a fruit?” he questions, frown puckering his brows.
He gulps as you close the space between you, your lips softly brushing the base of the neck. Before they trail below his ear until your teeth are gently grazing his collarbone. He instinctively groans at the contact.
The timer sounds, breaking the spell between you.
“You okay? How was that?” you say, pulling away from him.
“Y-yeah, great,” he choked out , unable to look away from you.
“Oh, yay! Do you think it helped? Like maybe it just helped unmuddle some things in your head?”
“Yeah, definitely,” he answers with a false positivity, nodding frantically.
Adrian was anything but unmuddled. He felt like he was drowning in confusion.
Now you were putting your shoes on to leave. He didn’t really want you to leave but how could he ask you to stay?
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
Part 3 coming very soon (its my faveeee part too) ♡
summary: sending dex a dirty pic with one of his knives has (un)expected consequences 🗡️
tags: established relationship, smut, fingering, mention of stalker!dex, knife play, blood — 18+ only! MINORS DNI
note: i normally only cross-post ficlets on here buuuuut this is only… a few hundred words over a thousand so! i figured, as a lil treat, i’d post it in full on here. and over on my ao3 as per usual ofc. comments/reblogs are always appreciated! ♡
“oh, you poor thing…”
the whimper comes out of your throat before you can think twice, unable to control even the most basic bodily functions as dex clicks his tongue behind his teeth. he lets his eyes rove thoughtfully over your body as his thumb rubs feather-light against your glistening flesh.
“you’re shakin’, baby,” dex notes, faux concern dripping from his lips with the faintest furrow of his brows and a ghost of a smirk he barely attempts to suppress as he adds just a little more pressure. he’s razor focused on keeping you trembling underneath him, only giving you enough to have you writhing.
he loves to see you squirm, y’know? like you’re some timid little prey, battling within yourself about just how turned on you feel in his presence. especially when you know it should feel wrong or demeaning to want him as badly as you do.
it’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before, he knows. so used to guys not paying attention, never making any real effort in delving any deeper than the surface with you. but he sees you, he’s always seen you.
just the mere sight of him gets you all filled with butterflies though. it’s cute. to dex, it’s exhilarating to be able to have such an impassioned, ardent effect on you—to get your panties damp without so much as even uttering a single word. one look, right into your eyes, and you’re so willing to drop down to your knees right there when he walks through the door after a long day.
he was texting you the entire time, but it definitely wasn’t enough for either of you. dex was so tense and distracted, just waiting for that familiar little buzz in his pocket to hum against his thigh, letting him know you responded because even one minute of waiting had him restless. it was the usual, though- just him asking you how you’re doing, updating you on when he’ll be home, asking what you want him to pick up for a late dinner, checking in to make sure you remember to drink some water- very domestic.
but when you sent a naughty little picture of you holding one of his throwing daggers, the sharp blade ghosting over the top of your chest?
he doesn’t think he’s ever killed anyone faster. so hard under his boxers when dealing with whoever it was tonight while throwing knife after knife, clenching his jaw through the mask while flicking his wrists with the blades zipping through the air before he was headed right for your shared apartment.
you’ve been more daring, especially after learning the truth about him and where he always goes at night, and finding yourself thinking things you’d never thought about before. like how you don’t even really mind that he can kill someone without remorse, how you even find it thrilling that he’d offered to do it for you when some guy wouldn’t leave you alone or even looked at you a way he didn’t like, and you knew he would if you just said ‘ok’. it turns you on to know he loves you that much, willing to do whatever you ask of him like a dog waiting at your feet.
which is why when you sent that picture, so audacious and adorable in dex’s eyes, you were fully expecting it to get him home as fast as possible.
and he’s never felt so wanted with you. so desired. and he didn’t even have to try all that hard, did he? no, he just had to tail you for awhile, learn your habits, ‘accidentally’ bump into you. and as soon as you got a real good look at that friendly smile of his face to face? putty in his hands. and it’s only morphed and transformed into something more since that day.
“shouldn’t be playin’ with knives, baby. they’re dangerous,” he muses sinfully before pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw, breathing against your skin, warm and tingly as he slips his thick fingers lower.
he can’t help the chuckle that escapes his throat, an amused but prideful exhale when he feels just how worked up you really are as he lets it coat his fingers slick and brings them right back up to that puffy, aching clit. just to feel your own breath hitch in your chest, and that twitch of your hips like you’re trying so hard to not rut up into his touch because he gets just as much of a high off of this as you do. god, he really does love you.
“s’that what you want? huh?” he encourages, murmuring against your neck, trailing his mouth down to feel your pulse thrum in rapid little beats. oh, you’re just so precious.
“my sweet girl wants me to hurt her….use one of my knives to mark her up a little? is that right?”
the whine that comes from your mouth is nothing short of pitiful, meager and desperate with your bottom lip jutted out just so into the sweetest, faint pout. he already knows that’s what you want, there’s no use feigning otherwise. but you still feeling bashful about actually admitting it makes his dick throb nearly painfully.
he can’t believe his luck. you actually get wetter with him talking to you like this. the idea of your sweet dex who dotes on you and protects you, giving you a little pain? using one of his knives that he’s definitely killed someone with, cleaned it of any sticky ichor before leaving it atop your dresser along with the others he didn’t need tonight, now thinking of pressing it to your skin and getting to see a dribble of crimson?
he swears he could come untouched, right here and now.
“fuck, you’d let me do that?” dex asks it like he’s trying to wrap his head around it, dazed and awed that you really mean it because the last thing he wants is to make a mistake with you. he’d never forgive himself for pushing you too far, or scaring you off.
but that’s not possible, is it? you love him too much, dependent on him being there for you and with you that nothing he could say or do would ever change that. the fear’s in the back of his mind all the time, never fully believing he deserves you. but unbeknownst to him, you feel that same way about him.
“please…” you utter the word so softly, overwrought and breathy, leaning your head against his, rubbing your temple against his hair as your hands find the back of his neck in an attempt to plead even further through your touch. even with how difficult it is to speak all that coherently now, you want him to believe just how much you mean this.
you try to think of a time that you’ve wanted something so strongly, how it felt to have that pit in your gut with want and premature disappointment just to prepare yourself for not actually getting it. the nervousness, the longing. but nothing even comes close to what you feel now, under him, his warm skin against yours. the ache inside yourself is more than anything you can bear, with a stinging behind your eyes where stubborn tears threaten to form at just how much you want this.
“i’d let you do anything to me…” you say it with such gentle conviction, like you’re surrendering completely- to control, to your desires, to the small bit of stubborn shame that still clung to your bones now falling away entirely- to him.
the look he gives you when he lifts his head up at last, gazing into your shiny, shimmering eyes, is nothing short of relief and full blown lust, letting you see your reflection in the dilated pupils of his irises.
his fingers slip right back down to your entrance, sliding inside, getting you to gasp out and arch your hips, your head falling to the pillows.
“yeah, i know, baby… i know.”
and when he finally lets that sharp steel graze along your inner thigh, using just enough pressure to pierce through that fragile, vulnerable skin? you flinch slightly from the sting and he coos against your mouth immediately, petting your cheek and whispering assurances of how it’ll fade and he’ll take care of you.
but there’s a depraved edge to his tone of voice, one that sends a rush of adrenaline through your entire body, makes you lightheaded.
he slides down between your legs with grace, licking up the blood before it can drip down to the sheets with a hum that reverberates through to your very core. you can’t help but tremble, exhaling a shaky breath as you watch with awe and reverence. your mouth hangs open just slightly, with your eyes half lidded as he meets your gaze, the evidence of his decadence at the edge of his lips.
he’s still holding the handle of the blade as he rises back up onto his knees, a dark glint in his eyes as he brings the sharp tip up to your exposed chest, letting it drag slow and light against your flesh- a gentle threat of what’s whirling around in his abject mind.
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