Mostly 🍃Stoney Thoughts🍃 from your neighborhood pet sitter. I’m lurking on here reading all your Adrian Chase fics😍 Autistic, but I’m sure you figured that one out From the 1900s(1986 specifically)
WHILE THE WORLD SPEAKS ABOUT HUMAN RIGHTS, THIS IS THE REALITY.
For more than two and a half years, you have stood by me through some of the hardest moments of my life. Your support, your words, and your kindness helped us keep going when we were close to breaking. Because of you, we were able to hold on, and I will never forget that.
But the truth is, our story is not over yet.
We have lost everything, our home, our source of income, and the stability we once had. It feels like we are not just starting from zero, but trying to rise from below it.
Now things are even harder with my father’s illness. He needs ongoing care and treatment, while we are facing a complete lack of income. Even covering our basic daily needs has become a real struggle.
We are doing everything we can to stay strong, but we cannot do it alone anymore.
I am not asking for much, just for you to stand by us as you always have. Any support, no matter how small, can make a real difference. It can help us cover my father’s treatment, provide our basic needs, and help us keep going.
And if you are unable to donate, simply sharing our story could help it reach someone who can.
Thank you for being there for us and for not leaving us alone.
Dear Esteemed Donors,
My name is Ahmad, and I am a 16-year-old from northern Gaza… Ahmad family needs your support for Support Ahmad’s Fami
📌📌📌 Fundraiser vetted (#167 by el-shab-hussein & nabulsi), But we created a new GoFundMe page because GoFundMe suspended the beneficiary’s account.
Summary: You've been living off the rush you get running from the local Vigilante killer for weeks now. Could getting caught be the biggest thrill yet?
Contents: 18+/mdni, smut, b&e, stalker Adrian, Adrian is obsessed, possessive Adrian, dark Adrian smut, adrian and reader are freaks, sexual situations, mature language. Some plot.
AN: I hope you enjoy this spicy dark Adrian piece! I know i love exploring Adrians dark side and hope to work on another part soon! my Adrian Chase masterlist 🧜♂️
link to part 2
Xo, M.
You've been one step ahead of the man the news calls Vigilante for weeks now. But he's been getting closer and closer to catching you while you're out painting the town. Well, graffitiing the town. Tonight, your saving grace is the midnight freight train. You barely make it past the tracks before it slams a barrier between you and the masked killer.
Now, as you watch him through the flashes of hazy light between train cars, sword glinting from over his shoulder and guns strapped to his hips, heat courses through you.
It's hard to believe that this isn't fiction. Being stalked by a masked serial killer is your reality.
You feel like you're watching a movie, specifically the scene when the slasher sizes up his victim like a lamb for slaughter. You stare into his mask, unflinching and wonder what he looks like behind that blood red visor. You watch frozen as he stares you down, as if knowing his next opportunity will be soon, and he won't let you slip through his grasp again.
When your phone buzzes, you drag your eyes away from him and pull it out with shaking hands. He… airdropped you a file. Its a message.
“If I catch you, I won't kill you.”
“I don't believe you.” You shoot back. There's no way this guy isn't frothing at the mouth to get his hands around your neck.
Another message comes through.
“I promise."
"What do you want?" You punch the words out with trembling hands. Your heart pounds hard in your chest as you wait for his response.
"If I catch you, I fuck you...”
Your eyes widen and you glance up. Hes still there... watching you. Hot pressure tugs at your lower belly and a shiver races up your spine. Your breath catches as you look down to study the screen.
Fuck me? You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit this cat and mouse game you've been playing with Vigilante didn't wind you up so tight that you've had to put yourself to sleep every night with the shape of his name on your lips and the memory of him, armed to the teeth, swimming in your vision.
“Keep trying, asshole.” You send the message off with a small smile pulling at your lips.
“Do you agree to my terms?” Your phone screen glows in your hand. Your mouth works.
“Yes.” You shoot back, then swallow hard.
Why? Why would you agree to this insanity? Because youre fucked up. You agreed because you want it.
Maybe you just want to feel something.
Besides, regardless of your fantasies, you don't want to die. And this guy is the real deal. He's been leaving a trail of bodies behind him in Evergreen for years, even if they were mostly big time criminals who only improve the world once they leave it.
When the roar of the train abruptly fades, you look up, thoughts chased away by the sudden silence, and take a startled step back as the train cars disappear down the tracks. There's a gaping space now, filled only with a swirling veil of dust, the microscopic motes reflecting the pulsing red caution lights like blood in muddy water. When the dust settles, and the traincrossing lights go dark, Vigilante is gone.
Without further hesitation, you sprint to your car, toss your bag of spray paint cans and stencils in the backseat, and peel out onto the empty streets. You speed through stop signs and lights, looking over your shoulder, expecting to see the shadow of him behind you, like you've seen and felt so many times before. But there's nothing, and no one is trailing behind you. It's just you and the placid night.
You let your hood fall back and finally stuff the fabric covering the bottom half of your face under your chin and pull in gasping breaths.
Fuck. What did you just do? Egging on a serial killer? Brillant idea. You squeeze the steering wheel tightly and let out a frustrated curse.
Sure, it was dangerous before, committing petty crimes to fill that void in you with adrenaline. But when you drew his attention, you should have just stopped. A normal person would have. But you couldn't.
God, it was like a sixth sense... you could feel him prowling in the dark, stalking you from block to block, hiding silently in the shadows and moving like the wind. Youre addicted to it.
The first night you ran, and he threw a knife, it flew past you and landed in a tree. Was it a warning? Why would he miss skewering you on purpose.
Shit. You groan… skewering? Is that why youre still alive, because he wants to fuck you? You crush your thighs together against a hot pulse of excitement. Vigilante, if he catches you, is going to skewer you alright. You whip around a corner, speed down the private road and stop short at the gate. Punching in the code, you zip through the gate and down the long drive to your house.
The creak of the heavy wooden door swinging open makes you wince. Your dirty sneakers scuffle across the marble foyer as you scramble for the stairs. But when a soft voice calls out, you stop and clutch the railing.
“Honey?” The door to the den is ajar, blue light filters out from the television.
“Hey dad.” You try to control the quake in your voice. “Cant sleep again?”
You turn when your father steps into the foyer, clad in striped pajamas, slippers, and a robe.
“You know how it is around this time of the year.”
“Yeah.” Your voice is small. Moms birthday is this week. “Are you… okay?”
He nods, a sad smile pulling at his lips. “Im okay honey. Fifteen years is a long time.”
You nod, knowing full well that he won't be able to sleep for the rest of the week. Fifteen years is a long time, but it seems no amount of time can heal the wound he sustained from losing his wife. Your mother. Which is why you moved back home. You hated to think about him being all alone in this big house.
“Out painting the town technicolor again, sweetheart?” He nods towards the bag slung over your shoulder.
You wince. “I'm sorry. I know that it just causes problems -”
He raises a hand to stop you. “It's okay. I quite get a kick out of what your 'woke' political messages do to these snobs around here.” He chuckles. “Your mom would be out there with you. She was a warrior.” He concludes quietly.
You tiptoe over to him and give him a soft kiss on his cheek. “Get some rest dad, we have to meet with the board tomorrow.”
He hums and nods, a thin smile spreading on his face. “I'll head to bed in a little while, honey.”
You leave him in the den, convinced you'll find him asleep in his arm chair in the morning, and rush up the spiral stairs to the second story. You dump your paint bag in your studio, then open the french doors to your rooms. Kicking off your sneakers you flick the lights on and sigh. Home safe.
You've successfully eluded Vigilante again. Your stomach flutters. Will you be able to pull it off next time, or is he going to deliver the punishment he's promised?
Vigilante runs down the long granite paved driveway. Across the rolling green lawn and pristine gardens, a huge house sits. House… is an understatement. It's a mansion, and his target may as well be princess peach high in the castle tower.
A light pops to life on the second floor and he grins, picking up the pace. He easily jumps the low manicured hedges and begins to scale the side of the estate, finding hand and foot holds conveniently chiseled into the architectural components that make the mansion truly stately.
Then he hops to a tree branch that sweeps close to the second floor bedroom balcony.
The sheer curtains allow him a nearly unobstructed view into your bedroom, with its plush sitting area and fancy four poster bed. He wets his lips before sitting back on his heels. Then, he waits… knowing exactly what is going to happen next. Its your modus operandi after all.
---
Vigilante tosses the stick he was sharpening out of the tree and tucks his blade away when you emerge from the bathroom wrapped in a plush towel, drying your hair. Your skin is slick and glistening with water and lotions. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you, running his tongue and teeth across your bare skin. He watches, breath shuddering when you lay your clothes out for work tomorrow on a chaise lounge.
He lets a tortured groan trickle from his lips when your towel slips to the floor and you wander around the room, looking at your phone, before you pull on a pair of sexy teal underwear and an old Metallica tee-shirt.
He unbuckles his black fatigues and fists himself when you climb on top of your bed and lay down, damp hair spread across your pillows, knees bent, looking up at the ceiling.
“What are you thinking about?” He whispers as his fist travels up and down his shaft. He watches as you slide your teal panties off, they drift down one leg and onto the floor.
“Why even put them on?” He murmurs. He hums in appreciation when your hand sensually travels up and down your body, then slips between your legs.
He watches, lips parted, brows knit, as you roll your hips against your hand, legs drifting wider, back arching. He can just see a corner of your phone screen. Its an article. Your hand rises and he grins. You've got that article up, the one where someone managed to snap a blurry photo of him, all suited up.
He swallows back a curse as his fist squeezes tighter, moves faster. Pre-ejaculate is beginning to spill across his knuckles as he jerks off, watching you writhe on your sheets as you pleasure yourself to him.
Your whimpers are growing louder, loud enough for him to hear his name, Vigilante, tumble rapidly from your lips.
“Fuck…” He groans, and closes his eyes. And for a moment, just a moment, it isn't his fist tightening around his cock, but your tight, wet pussy. His eyes snap open when you cry his name out, bucking against your hand. He whimpers and bites back a curse when he shoots his load into his fist.
It's dark in your room. It smells like the vapors from your shower, sweet smelling shampoos, and perfumes. He stands next to your bed, watching with bated breath as you sleep. You look so innocent like this. But he knows the truth. You are far from innocent.
After washing his cum off of his hand in your bathroom sink, he shakes his head and stalks towards your dresser unlocking your phone with your sleeping face.
“What have you been up to…” He browses your messages. Then your emails. And your photos.
He even checks your pharmacy app, glancing over to you when he recognizes oral contraceptives.
“Why are you taking those when you don't get any action, sweetheart?” He chuckles under his breath and opens your dating app.
Scrunching his nose he glances at you, “Really? This guy? Blocked.”
You snore softly in response and he grins. Usually after you put yourself to bed, you sleep heavily. Only once, when he fumbled replacing a photo on your dresser, did you stir.
He continues to go through and block anyone who has matched or messaged you. Then swipes and swipes until he finds what he's looking for.
"Bingo." He swipes up and grins over at you. "What do you know, its a match..."
Then he browses your shopping history. Gym clothes, art supplies... he studies a couple of gowns you saved to your cart at your favorite online boutique.
"Where are you going to wear these?" He wants to see you in them, imagines running his tongue along your skin, following the dips in the fabric. He wets his lips, then groans when he discovers a few sets of lingerie you've been eyeing.
“All that money and this is what you want?” He hums appreciatively.
After making sure he's still linked up to your location he sets your phone down and studies you, gloved hands supporting him against the carved wooden posters at the end of your bed where silky sheer curtains are tied back with ribbons.
You're so beautiful when you sleep. Youve kicked your blankets off, and he wants so badly to run his fingertips up the silky skin of your leg to your thigh, where you lay completely bare to him. You're so close. Youre just there.
What if he parted your legs, and kissed your pussy while you slept? Would you scream? Or would you moan and grab his hair, grinding onto his tongue for more?
He cant help how his cock stiffens as he rolls the vision over and over in his mind. How you'll taste, what your breathy moans will sound like from between your legs... how you'll whimper and shake when you finally break around him.
But his smile fades and his gaze floats down from where your hand curls near your face to the toes of his boots. He may be obsessed, but he's not stupid. You'd scream. And... now his heart is beating wildly. He presses his lips together, willing his breath to slow.
His hands tremble slightly as he covers you with your comforter. He watches silently as you smile in your sleep and snuggle into its warmth, and tries to imagine himself there. Not as Vigilante, but as the man behind the mask.
When he turns back to the window he climbed through, the sheer curtains drift inward on a fragrant breeze from outside. He stops one more time to look at you, possessive heat coursing through him. Then he bites his lip and stoops, fisting your discarded panties and tucking them in his pocket.
He told you if he caught you, he was going to fuck you. And he meant it. But there's no fun in taking you while you're sleeping, or unaware, or being tracked by your phone. He has to know you want it.
A sharp smile pulls at his lips behind his mask. He wants to see excitement diate your pupils and feel the racing beat of your heart pound against him when he finally captures you in his arms. He wants to see that fire spark in your eyes once you realize that you're his.
if you made it this far, thank you!! interact with this post if you enjoyed and want another part of IICYIFY 💙🧜♂️ my masterlist
I don’t even know if I have a title🤦🏻♀️🤦🏻♀️ maybe the ‘ Mostly Stoney thoughts from your neighborhood dog walker’, because I’m out here in the streets stoned to the bone( to my joints that don’t wanna move anymore) walking dogs.
If it’s just the screen name that’s just a shorter version of my name that I use on almost all socials
2. Latest Movie? What did you think?
Lee Cronins The Mummy, this director must be a big fan of Sam Raimi (understandable)
(Upon google search I see this director made Evil Dead Rise, I love when I’m right😎😎😎)
Babysitter, me and the movie said ‘What the fuck’ At the same time(literally)😂😂😂
3. What are you looking forward to right now?
The bus as always
4. If you could do anything at all today, what would it be?
My job honestly, pet sitting and Hot Girl Dog Walking™️
5. Drink of choice?
Coconut water with the pulp in it
6. Hair routine?
Wash every 2-3 days, blow dry or ill look like season one Jim Halpert, Cecred hair restoring and edge drops (did you know perimenopause can give you 2-3 periods a month and snatch your hair 😜🔫)
(🕯️Beyoncé save me🕯️)
7. Favourite way to travel? Is there another way you want to try?
The Amtrak is pretty sweet to get to a destination but I be walking everywhere. As long as my phone and headphones have a full charge I’ll be out here all day even when I don’t have dogs scheduled.
8. Favourite month and why?
December, it’s freezing and pouring rain but there’s no line of tourists at Mee Sum Pastry in Pike Place Market
(Give me beef curry buns or give me death)
9. Favourite time of the day and why?
Golden hour (like 30 min to an hour before sunset)when the dog/ micro botanical photoshoot opportunities are prolific
10. Do you play or follow any sports?
Fútbol and gymnastics (attempted to play both in my youth but alas we constantly moved and I went to too many different schools to ever get it really going)
11. What kind of music has been stuck in your head lately?
My stripper jams playlist is on constantly
12. Dishes or laundry?
Laundry, leaning over the sink doing the dishes will make my lower back give out almost every time, I hate it
13. Something you learned recently?
‼️TRAUMATIC FAMILY HISTORY WARNING ‼️
my grandma was one of many Latinas that was involuntarily sterilized(doctors took her uterus without consent and didn’t tell her till much later) after giving birth to twins
14. What could you talk about if you give a TED talk on anything?
A TED talk specifically for west Seattle drivers about WHAT THE FUCK A STOP SIGN MEANS (Hint: YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FUCKING STOP)
15. Piece of advice you find yourself giving a lot?
It’s not real, your brain made it up, you’re ok
16. Piece of advice you would give yourself 5 years ago?
Just accept that you need the muscle relaxers because 4 tabs of ibuprofen at once isn’t gonna help
17. Do you believe in luck or superstition? Do you carry any lucky items or follow any rules?
No, but I won’t yuck your yum
18. Are you musical? (Play any instruments? Sing?)Would you perform for an audience?
Not musical at all but I have performed for an audience
(Drama club president and we never did musicals because the choir teacher and my English/Drama teacher had beef for years😂😂😂)
19. Write, type or speak?
Write and type, when I try to speak my brain sends too much at once, it’s not organized, it’s mayhem
20. What do you wish someone would ask you?
Can I love you for the rest of your life? (Too cheesy, yes, i am but a block of Colby Jack after all)
Can I request Adrian with a reader who slowly makes him realize he does like touch he had just grown to be afraid of it. Like he always wants hard rough sex but she teaches him soft loving sex and that new need for touch starts leaving the bedroom too, he needs a hug and kiss every time they see eachother, starts to like holding her hand, the feel of his fingertips slowly caressing her and vice versa.
I love your writing so much btw, the fall of Adrian Chase fics after the end of peacemaker makes me so sad😭
Touch
Adrian Chase x F!Reader
Word Count: 4.8k+
Plot Summary: Going into the relationship, you knew that Adrian had some quirks. Two months into dating, late in bed one night you come to realise why he fucks like he fights; and Adrian wants to try something new with you.
Warnings: Adults Only. Minors Do Not Interact. Reader in her 30's. Reader works at Checkmate. Soft touch aversed Adrian. Mentions of rough sex (With reader and Adrian's past sex partners). Mentions of butt stuff (M receiving). Reader is able to flip and pin Adrian — assume she's tactically trained. Belly humping. Fingering. Vaginal sex. Fucking with feelings. Upstairs neighbour activities. A little fluffy sweetness sprinkled in amongst the smut here and there.
A/N: Apologies to anon for this taking so long since you requested it, life happened, fixations fell off :( I really appreciate you for sending this request and I hope you see that I finally got around to it!
Note: My readers are written with inclusivity and women of colour in mind, with minimal descriptors or indetifying features, along with actions and intent. Everyone is invited to read. 💜
-> Do not be a fucknut! I do not give permission for my fics/plots to be copied or fed into any AI software <-
Follow @kindahecticfics and turn on notifs for fic updates only!
Adrian Chase Taglist || Adam Cromwell Taglist || Jake Martin Taglist || Fic Requests || Main Masterlist || Adrian Chase Masterlist || Freddie Stroma Characters Masterlist
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Oh no, you're trying that thing again.
The thing where you lazily drag your fingers up and down his side and Adrian has to pretend that he doesn't want to jump out of bed and throw himself out of the window.
It just feels so weird!
He gets why you're doing it, and honestly he's trying his hardest to not let that irrational part of his brain take over and pull away, but the whole lovey-dovey-petting thing isn't his brand of showing affection, but he really is trying to be normal for you, even if it's like being subjected to listening to nails raking down a chalkboard.
"You okay?"
You'd noticed his sullen silence and how straight and stiff his body was laying beside you in bed, and you'd figured that maybe he'd just had a shit day and misplaced one of his beanie babies again or something, it sure seemed like he needed to blow off some steam when he got here and fucked you so good you could have sworn you heard the neighbours banging on the ceiling from below with how hard the bed was rattling against the wall and from how loud you were both being.
"Hm? I'm fine! I'm cool as a cucumber!" He answers too quickly to be considered casual, not that Adrian would know anything about that anyway. "I'm just tired from all the sex and stuff, and I'm definitely enjoying this whole cuddling thing we're doing right now! Boy, oh, boy, it feels really, really good!"
If Adrian ever tried to play poker, he'd bankrupt himself. The man has no pokerface and he's a terrible liar to boot.
You push up behind him to rest back against the headboard, the sheets loosely covering you from the chest down, and the moment your hand falls away from him, you see him relax entirely again, shoulders slouching and untensing in an instant.
"Adrian, do you not like it when I touch you?"
The speed at which he flips over in bed and scrambles up to sit beside you, is immeasurable, making the headboard rattle against the wall again, much to your neighbours dismay, you're sure.
"What?! Why would you think that? Of course I like it when you touch me! Like when you touch my dick, or when you grab my ass, or when you pull my hair or when you put your finger in my—"
"Alright! I got it!" You cut him off, knowing that if you don't, he's just going to spend the next 10 minutes listing all the dirty stuff you do to him.
Adrian's lips purse together, trying to hold back the barrage of words that he hadn't gotten out yet. It's a feeble attempt.
"Butt! I was gonna say butt! I really like it when you do that!" He grins, stretching from ear to ear.
"I feel like that was implied, but okay?" You sigh, shifting your body to face him better. "I don't mean just sex stuff, baby, I mean like just now? While we were cuddling? You usually love it when I'm the big spoon?"
"I do love it when you're the big spoon!" Adrian protests, whining and throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. "I just don't like the whole, touchy-feely stuff? Like the stroking? I'm not a cat, and sometimes it feels like if you have a really prickly cactus touch graze you, that sensation, but over and over and over and over again!" It comes out like word vomit, without entirely meaning to and without any holds barred.
"Adrian" He hates that tone right there, that one that says you think he's being an idiot and you're about to chide him, it's the same one he heard when he suggested Chris load his gun with jellybeans and shoot it at his face to see if he can catch any in his mouth. "Why didn't you say anything, dummy?" Dummy is a step down from idiot, at least.
"Because I really like you and I don't want you to think I'm weird, because then you'll stop touching other parts of me and I won't get to kiss you every morning when I see you in the office and that's like, my favourite part of the day now! Apart from when Fluery quizzes me on spider facts when he's bored, so maybe it's like, joint first?"
His rambled explanation is a double-sided coin, on one hand you find yourself laughing at the inexplicable way that getting to kiss you is in competition with Fluery and spider facts, on the other, you find a twinge of sympathy for him when your chuckles begins to fade and you see the way he's looking at you like you hung the moon, silently pleading with those ridiculously effective puppy-dog eyes of his. There's that fear of rejection and abandonment, seeping out of every pore of his beautiful face.
"Adrian, honey, I don't know if you know this, but I'm well aware of the fact that you're a fucking weirdo." You state, matter-of-factly. "I love that about you! I just wish you'd told me sooner, I mean we've been dating for what? 2 months now—"
Before you can even finish your thought, Adrian is moving again, flinging himself over you with all the grace of a bulldozer traversing a minefield, all just to grab his phone on the bedside cabinet beside you.
"—64 days, 7 hours and 24 minutes, if we're being pedantic about it!"
This stupid, murderous golden retriever of a man has no idea what kind of hold he has over you.
"See! This is what I mean! No normal person would be keeping track of that!"
He clearly misunderstands your tone, given the way his expression drops again and how quickly he abandons his phone to hold your face in his hands instead, he really is trying to be gentle, even if those same hands have only become accustomed to inflicting pain and suffering.
"I swear, I'll change! I can change! I'll be good, I can totally do 'normal' if that's what you want me to be!" So needy and clingy, laying half on top of you, already prepared to roll off and get out of you give him the order to. He really hopes you don't, though.
"Adrian!" An exasperated sigh leaves deep from your chest. "Stop, I'm not saying I want you to be normal, I'm saying I like you just the way you are! And if you don't enjoy me touching you like that, then that's fine, I'm not going to dump you over that, you clearly have some sensory aversions to touch and that's okay!"
Green eyes rapidly blink at you as he tries to compute what you just said, as if you were speaking to him in Klingon.
"Soooo, you're not about to leave me and go find some boring insurance broker instead?"
"What?! No? How would you even come to that conclusion?" You argue, sputtering out an incredulous laugh over the sheer random absurdity he's just cooked up in his brain.
"Well I don't know! That's the most normal thing I can think of! And I'm sorry, but I'm never going to have a 401k and I think whiskey tastes like cough medicine! It burns! Beer doesn't burn on the way down!"
"Unless you chase it up with tequila." You interject, wriggling in the bed until you're laying directly under him, bringing your hand up to his head, burying your fingers in his sex-mussed curls to rake your nails across his scalp in that deep-pressure way he loves so much.
He's so deep into his ramble, he doesn't even realise he's just putty in your hands, tilting his head into your touch, craving the sensation and attention from you.
"Okay, point taken, but I bet Mr.Fancy-boring-broker-man doesn't have throwing knives! And I bet he doesn't even eat pussy! God, what a loser." A triumphant huff leaves him when he's finally done with competing with the imaginary man in his head, already busying himself with ducking his head down to plaster your jawline with needy little kisses, nudging your head back with the curve of his nose to gain better access.
"Total loser." You muse, relishing in the way he seems to have completely lost his train of thought in favour of turning all his attention on you instead, never really able to focus on the matter at hand for too long when his mind is constantly going on side-quests.
Adrian seems pleased that you agree with him about the broker, whom he's now mentally named Tom and has deemed him his mortal enemy all in one blink of an eye. The intensity of his lips on your throat ramps up, his hands getting grabby and greedy, feeling like they're all over your body all at once, his soft cock hanging between his thighs starting to twitch to life once more.
"Glad we're on the same page about that guy." He groans into the curve of your shoulder, working himself up already.
You know if you let him keep going he's just going to fuck you dumb all over again and you're going to forget to have this actual, important conversation with him, and even if you feel the heat between your legs rapidly becoming something you can't ignore, you need to have this talk.
When your legs wrap around his hips, Adrian lifts his head up to chase your lips with his own, not expecting you to turn the tide and roll both of you over until he's pinned beneath you, it takes him longer than it should to realise what just happened, and given that all his blood is currently rushing south, that's not entirely unreasonable.
"That's hot as fuck, babe!" Adrian's voice comes out in an excited chirp, willfully throwing his arms over his head into the pillows, waiting patiently for you to take the reins.
"As much as I appreciate the enthusiasm," You start, shifting to hover over his hips instead of sitting directly on top of him, biting back the smile you feel tugging at your lips when you hear him whine when you pull away. "I think we do still need to talk. I don't want you thinking you have to force yourself to like things just because you think it'll make me happy, that's not what people do in relationships, and I most definitely don't want you to be uncomfortable either."
"It's not that I don't like it! It's just… I'm not used to it, being soft or whatever. Having someone that wants to treat me like that. So yeah, it does kind of feel like sandpaper on my skin sometimes when you touch me like that, but I kind of love that you want to touch me like that anyway. Does that make any sense?"
"In the most Adrian Chase way," You cock your head to the side thoughtfully, tracking your eyes over his face. "It does make sense."
Adrian's dimples pop as he stares up at you. "See I knew you'd get it. C'mere?"
When he lifts his head off the pillow, expectantly puckering his lips, you're powerless to say no. Your mouth slants over his own, and you expect him to start up again with that feral eagerness that he usually embodies whenever the two of you are tangled up like this. Instead he's practicing patience, letting you set the pace and keep control, which you know is a big point of contention for Adrian.
You feel Adrian's hands land on your hips, and for once instead of pulling you down onto him, he guides you off, kneading at the supple curves beneath his fingertips as he helps you settle onto your side next to him.
You link your arms around his neck and bury your fingers in his hair once more, earning yourself a throaty hum that goes straight between your legs.
Adrian's cock nudges against your soft stomach, already half hard again. It's a welcomed perk of being with a man who's stamina can endure hours of fighting. Or fucking; depending on the mood.
As the intensity behind the kiss you lead starts to heat up, Adrian presses his body into your own, just enough to grind himself against you. He groans into your mouth as his twitching length rubs up and down slowly — from navel to your lower abs, leaving a damp trail behind on your skin that only grows slicker with every passing moment.
"Touch me." He whines, buckling at the hips. Too needy to let his lips stray from your own for even a single second.
Immediately you go to wrap a fist around his cock, but he stops you, catching your hand mid-air to plant it on the side of his face instead. It doesn't clock right away what Adrian's asking for, not until you feel the way he tenses beneath your palm. He wants to try to get used to the feeling, maybe some part of him that he's never explored craves it, but he's never been with someone he's wanted to expose himself to like tbat — until now.
You let your fingertips stroke along his jawline, it's something you've done plenty in the time you've been together, but now you're aware of his aversions, you're taking more care to show him how good it can feel.
Every quiet shuddering breath or tick in his jaw becomes your guide, mapping out his cues to tell you when you're being too gentle.
It quickly becomes apparent that there's a fine line between touch that makes him cringe and touch that makes him melt. You only wish Adrian had communicated this with you sooner, rather than try to force himself.
Caressing his chest, between his shoulder blades, downwards over the slope of his spine. You get to revel in the way Adrian bows into you as he gradually succumbs to the warmth your touch leaves behind in its wake.
You're both breathless when you wrench your lips away from his own, his cheeks flushed, pupils swallowing the green in his eyes.
"This okay?" You don't want to just rely on his physical cues now, not when he'd been so reluctant to express himself before.
Adrian's hips haven't stopped their subtle shift this entire time, the thick purple head glistening with pre-cum.
"Mm-hmm," He nods frantically, ridding you of any creeping doubts. "F-uck babe. Can I please touch you now too?"
The corners of your lips curve upwards, Adrian has kept his hands cemented to your hips until now, and you realise it was to keep himself from moving too hastily.
Draping your thigh over his own, you invitingly open yourself up to him. "Touch me." Your tone echoes that needy lilt Adrian had before.
His dominant hand slips between your bodies, making your head drop back into the plush pillow with a sigh when his middle and index fingers find your clit, grazing back and forth over the engorged nub slowly.
"Fucking soaked," Adrian curses, dropping his head to mouth at your sternum, sliding his free hand up to the small of your back to hold you tighter against him. "N-nails. Do that thing where you scratch down my back."
You're all too happy to fulfill the breathy request, embedding the manicured tips into his alabaster skin; drawing a slow path of red streaks down the length of his muscled back.
The mattress springs beneath you protest as Adrian arcs, loudly groaning his approval over the way you're blending a lighter touch with the agonizing bliss.
"Just like that." He pleads, rocking his hips more insistently against you, letting his fingers glide south, easing them into your warm cunt.
You squirm on your side, chasing the friction the heel of his palm provides as his digits find their home inside you, pumping in and out in a steady, tantalizing rhythm.
You can hear the slick squelch of yourself, between the airy whines and murmured begs, some of it slipping from your own lips, some of it from Adrian, panting between your tits. Neither of you truly know what you're asking for, all you know is that you don't want this to stop.
Adrian's teeth graze over your heaving breast, restraining himself from sinking them into your skin, instead sucking a stiffened peak into his mouth; coaxing a wanton moan out of you.
Your fingers instinctively find their way to his ass, letting your nails mark his toned cheeks too. You guide his hips to roll deeper, feeling every inch of him sliding between your slick bodies while you unhurriedly fuck yourself on the fingers buried inside you.
It's not long before you begin to crest, arching and shaking while Adrian laves his lips and tongue over your nipples back and forth. There's nothing urgent about the way he pulls this climax from you, not like the usual frantic and fast desperation he exudes.
This time Adrian savours every second of it — from the rasping breaths you shudder out as you reach the peak, to the way your thigh shakes when your pussy clenches down and drenches his fingers.
His hips stutter as if he's struggling to hold back from cumming, and truthfully, he is. It's especially difficult to hold back with the way your heat drips down his knuckles and that keening way you call out his name.
Still, he's not done trying to prove to himself that he has the ability to be soft and slow, you deserve that version of him when he's never been able to give himself like that to anyone else.
It wasn't up until Adrian started up the Vigilante stuff that he lost his virginity, and even then, most of the suit would stay on just so he didn't have to endure the touch of skin on skin that would make him wither. Always rough with his lovers. If you could even call them that.
It was usually an anonymous hook-up from that app Peacemaker recommended. Some lucky person would find themselves wedged between the closest thing Evergreen had to a 'hero' and an unforgiving brick wall, pounded into it just so Adrian could take the edge off.
All that started to crumble when Adrian took a shining to you though.
The app got deleted off his phone and Adrian had to learn to navigate something new.
Sure, it's been a very full two months of losing yourselves in each other, testing out just how much the desks at the office can take when no one was around. Fucking you so relentlessly in the back of the Sebring that the suspension broke and the two of you had to push the car to the nearest garage on your lunch hour while his cum was still leaking out of you.
That was a fun when the mechanics eyed the both of your dishelved appearances with a knowing suspicion, and when you'd let Adrian take the reins at trying to explain to Ads and Harcourt why you were coming back late from your break.
It went down like a lead balloon when 'chasing down some sketchy looking dude' was all Adrian could come up with under pressure. That and the telltale blooming lovebites that you thought you'd been strategic enough to hide beneath his collar.
Even so, somehow you've dismantled that fear of intimacy and touch that Adrian had developed somewhere along the way, and now it was giving way to a gentleness he didn't even know he possessed.
When you're fully sated and boneless, Adrian slips his fingers out of you and stuffs them into his mouth as he raises his head, letting you witness the way his eyes roll back at your taste.
"Fuck me." You hear yourself plea, raising your hands up to link around the back of his neck, drawing Adrian in for a kiss that forces him to drop his fingers from his mouth, making his head spin.
By now he'd have you flipped over, either on your belly or your back, ready to drill you into the mattress until you're a babbling mess.
It's impossible for him to say no to you though, hoisting your leg up higher over his hip while he wraps his other hand around the base of his cock, nudging the weeping tip into you in a way that's uncharacteristicly hampering compared to the lunging thrust he'd gone with earlier on this evening.
Adrian's fingertips skirt over the back of your thigh. Up and down, soothing a sigh out of you as you stretch to fit around his girth.
"Ho-oly fuck, babe." He rasps against your lips, letting his free hand wander up to your breasts again, fondling and squeezing lightly.
You suckle on his bottom lip as the two of you start to move, rolling your hips in tandem with his own, impeded from speeding yourself up by the steadying hand grasping the meat of your thigh.
Languid, dragged out strokes steal your breath away, sharing the heated air between your panting mouths. Noses nudge and softly bump while Adrian stares into your eyes, jaw slackened as he breathes out your name over and over again.
He'll push deep and pull out slow, leaving only the first inch inside you before he allows himself to sink in, overwhelmed by the sensation of your welcoming walls pulling him in.
It's not something Adrian usually gets to bask in, but right now he can feel every honeyed inch of your channel wrapped around his cock, letting himself gently kiss your cervix with the tip.
When a gasp spills from youAdrian panics and almost pulls out altogether, thinking he's doing it wrong. You only just manage to stop him by locking your ankle around his lower back.
"Are you okay?" Adrian sputters out, stilling himself inside you, eyes darting between your own, all tooth-achingly sweet concern.
"Baby, I'm fine?" You huff softly, delighting his ears with a quiet chuckle. "That was a good gasp, trust me."
"Are you sure? You're not just saying that? What if you decide to praying mantis me because I did something wrong?"
"Huh?"
Adrian rolls his eyes, idly thumbing over your nipple. "Like when a female mantis is done mating she'll bite off her partners head?"
You purse your lips together to stifle a laugh, choking it down before replying, "That's probably the first correct animal fact I've ever heard from you and it's during sex?! Also, I'm a little fond of your face and the body it's attached to, so I think I'll pass, thanks."
"Pfft, like your mind doesn't wander sometimes, and I'm always correct." He pouts petulantly, shifting himself all the way back into you with a subtle jut of his hips. "And only a little fond?" His lips arc into a stretching smile when you moan, it's the most intoxicating sound Adrian has ever heard.
"A-alot. I love your stupidly handsome face, okay?"
Love.
It's not like you were declaring anything to him then and there, but with the way the comforting warmth spreads through Adrian's chest, anyone would think you did just that.
He's been tip-toeing that word for years. The only people that have ever said it to him were his parents and that one old lady at Fennel Fields who used to come in for the early bird special that kept mistaking him for her high-school boyfriend. She was a good tipper, even if Adrian was constantly having to dodge a cheek smooch whenever he went to clear her table and he's haunted by the memory of the filthy note she'd left for him on a napkin that one time.
Adrian's concept of love just barely existed, and it was solely based off fictional media. He was never sure it was a feeling he was capable of, but now you're making him question that — almost every single day.
Sure he loves his best friends, he loves Eagly. He loves how it feels to watch the light drain from someone's eyes at his hands.
This though? This is different.
His hand wraps around your ankle, pulling it up a little higher behind his back, opening you up in a way that allows for your clit to grind into the thatch of curls at the base of his cock.
The headboard knocks, but it's quieter and infrequent now, side-on, drinking each other's morphing expressions of pleasure in,
Adrian's plants his palms flat on your ass, pushing you forward onto his cock over and over again as your vocalizations rise in volume and pitch, groaning with you as you tug on the curly ends of his hair.
"Adrian, I need to—" Your warning cry is smothered, eager lips tackling your own as he gives in and rolls you beneath him, plunging deep repeatedly just to coax that gentle pulsing around him into a frenzied clutch as your back bows. It was the nudge you'd needed, if the sticky slick that makes a mess of his pubic hair is anything to go by.
Adrian cums seconds after you, emptying himself inside you as he whimpers into your agape mouth, unable to withstand the unforgiving pulse and heat of your pussy.
The two of you stay like that for what feels like an eternity, winding your arms around his middle when he slumps into you, dropping his mouth to your throat to pepper lazy kisses all over.
Despite the way Adrian prefers to fuck, he's always like this after — clingy and dopey. It's a moment of blissful peace that neither of you get to bask in very often.
And it's broken by your jerk off neighbour throwing a hissy fit again.
Bang. Thud. Bang. Thud.
Slamming his fucking door open and shut in protest.
"Seriously?" You grumble, chancing a glance at the bedside clock to see that maybe his grievence is justified given the late hour blinking back at you.
Before you can even stop him, Adrian is scrambling off you, leaving you feeling empty all of a sudden. You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him hunt for his jeans in the scattered mess of clothes on your bedroom floor as the wet patch beneath your ass spreads over the sheets.
"What are you doing?"
"Noise disturbance babe!" Adrian exclaims as he shoves his foot into one of the legs, struggling to keep balance on the other foot, his red streaked ass jiggling as he hops around. "Someone's gotta go talk to the guy, set him straight. There are laws about that kinda thing!"
The manic grin on his face tells you he has more plans for Jeff in 2B than a quiet talking to.
"Adrian." You warn, flopping back into the pillows, exasperated and sleepy.
"It'll just take a sec, I swear!" He lies blatently, tugging his shirt on over his head back to front before swiping up his glasses.
You're too tired and fucked out to stop him.
Hopefully Jeff has more common sense than to open his door at this time of night. If not, you can only pray that it won't look too suspicious when Jeff suddenly ups and leaves to go on an extended vacation to the middle of Alaska; or wherever his inevitable 'goodbye' note will claim he's gone.
You're on the cusp of drifting off when you remember the baseball bat you keep by your front door, groggily calling out to Adrian as he attempts to creep out.
"Leave the bat, dummy!"
"Awh, man."
═════════════════════════════════
"Dude, get a room." Economos laments, shielding his eyes with a hand when Adrian bounds over to your desk just to plant a sweet kiss to your lips while there's a little down time.
Adrian frowns, barely lifting his head to throw him a look of utter confusion over the low partition between your desks. "We're literally in a room right now? And I did technically pay for this place, so if you really think about it—"
Economos interjects before Adrian can go off on a tangent, "It's a turn of phrase, dumbass. I meant take that somewhere else before I barf up my cheerios onto my desk or something."
"Ohhhh! I knew that."
"Bullshit." John mutters, burying his head in his computer to avoid making direct eye contact with the overly-affectionate public display.
You grin up at Adrian from your chair as his hands find your shoulders, allowing yourself to relax when he starts to massage gently. "He's right though, if we had a HR department, I think we would have been written up at least 5 times this morning already." Your hand drifts away from the keyboard to pat his own. "C'mon, lover boy, get your ass back to your desk."
"Fine." He relents, pouting the entire way back to his own workstation.
Adrian's cheeks have barely touched the seat when a new email notification pops up in the bottom right hand corner of his screen from you.
Subject: Meet me in 5.
Supply closet. John said get a room, and I don't think we've tested out the acoustics in there yet. Let's hope it's sound proof.
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♦pairing: Adrian Chase x fem! reader | word count: 9.3k
♦synopsis: you run a tcg shop in Evergreen and are friends with Adrian, bonding over your shared love of Pokemon. You've been dropping some pretty big hints that you'd like to be more, but will this dense af dude get it???
♦tags: friends to lovers, mutual pining, awkward crushes/flirting, reader wears glasses, reader has big boobs, adrian is a boob guy, pokemon references, conventions, hotel rooms, sharing a bed, love confessions, smut, mirror sex, hotel sex, both Adrian and reader are subby switches, mdni pls.
♦a/n: thank you to anon for requesting the fic and all for comments /suggestions on this one!!! 💖
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Walking around Evergreen during this absolute heatwave of a summer wasn't the smartest idea but you needed a shiny galvantula!
Pokemon Go trumped common sense, and the event to get special candies was almost over. As you kept a lookout for the exclusives you found an odd thing right out of a video game. A man was on his hands and knees in the shrub trying to find something.
“Pleasseee, I want to evolve my shiny chimchar!” He whined loudly, plump ass wiggling in some acid washed dad jeans.
“Hey, are you looking for candy? It's over here, I used it to evolve my shiny Joltik.” You offered and a handsome man turned around, curly hair a little mussed up with leaves and glasses askew.
“Woah thank you I–” Adrian whipped around and was befallen, knight on sword at your beauty.
You were dressed in a bug trainer cosplay, khaki full jumpsuit, hat and bug catching net. Cute Pokemon pins lined your top.
More than a few buttons were undone due to the summer heat, those left clasped were struggling in the best way possible, making Adrian’s eyes near looney toons out of his skull.
Artists surely would have killed each other battle royale style to paint you in the Renaissance, with those gorgeous curves.
“Great cosplay!” Adrian shouted, launching to his feet. “You like bug type Pokemon?”
“Yeah! They're my favorite, I also like fairy and psychic types.” You grinned, wide dimpled smile matching his.
The two of you readjusted your own glasses up your noses at the same time, excited to get to go full steam ahead into your special interests.
“Rad, I like fire, fighting or electric types but honestly they're all awesome.” Adrian showed you his illustrious Pokedex and marveled at your own impressive collection.
“Gotta catch them all right?” You said with a cackle, tipping your head back.
It made a few people turn around in the park and left you a little mortified after letting out your loud laugh.
A lot of people had told you it was ugly over the years, annoying like Fran Drescher off the Nanny had snorted cocaine in the bathroom stall while operating a chainsaw.
But Adrian matched yours with one of his own insane laughs, loud and barking, green eyes glimmering. “I like your laugh, so cute and neat-o glasses!”
Your cheeks grew red hot at the compliment, hand reflexively touching your oversized 70s butterfly frames. But there wasn't a hint of sarcasm.
With those words, you'd fallen in love with this nerdy stranger and didn't even know his name yet. It felt like you'd known him your whole life.
“Um thanks, I like yours too, the aviator style is very cool.” You replied shyly introducing yourself and offering a handshake.
“I'm Adrian, can you show me where that candy is?” Adrian grinned, not letting go of your hand, he instead had you lead him to the spot.
“Here it is!” You proclaimed and Adrian got down on his hands and knees again to thank you as his shiny finally evolved into an Infernape.
“My all time favorite!” Adrian explained, the two of you chatting through Evergreen park until it was time for you to head back.
“Gavantula is mine. I love spiders.” You said, slightly shy to admit it.
“NO FREAKING WAYYYY?! I LOVE SPIDERS!” Adrian shouted, green eyes bugging out of his head.
“REALLY? YOU DON'T THINK IT'S GHOULISH?” You shouted back, eyes similarly widening and sparkling brightly.
From that day on, Adrian and you were fast friends, catching up most afternoons after work to go on Pokemon Go walks, attend the events in Evergreen and nearly every day he would visit you at your job.
The Evergreen Card Bazaar was a wonderful place to work. Unlike other local card shops that were recently coming under attack from horrible scalpers or just plain robbed, ECB had a guardian angel that ensured its Pokemon cards were left unstolen or scalped.
Vigilante.
You knew it had to be your friend Adrian Chase, Vigilante had the same infernape keychain you’d gotten him from a gachapon hanging off his wallet.
But there was just one issue.
He was utterly clueless that you had a major crush on him. And whenever you tried to flirt or ask Adrian out, he excused himself with a strange muppet-like voice and Naruto ran out of your store.
However unbeknownst to you, Adrian did have a crush on you too, he was just terrible at expressing it.
Like cataclysmically bad.
“I love your new binder, it's so pretty!” Adrian ran his hand across the washi tape and sparkly stickers you'd added.
“Thanks, I love yours too…” You reached out to touch his teal one, leaning right over making sure he could get a good look.
Today you made sure to wear that one push up bra that made the girls look even more fantastic, on full display with a low-cut top. Adrian was hook line and sinker, especially when you locked your elbows in.
“B-bo…Bombirdier! What a good bird type Pokemon huh?” Adrian began to laugh mechanically, tipping his head back and avoiding eye contact with your decolletage.
That was a close one, he thought to himself it was getting past ogling to near drooling territory. No way to treat a treasured friend!
Sure he liked to bond over sex with women with Chris, or at least did before Harcourt entered the scenario but that was bro stuff.
In the same vein of Chris being his number one bro, you were his number one gal pal, bonding with you would be less…a friendship building exercise, more…something else.
And that unknown something else terrified the shit out of Adrian.
“Welp. It's getting late, I should really go!” He announced and with that he bolted as per usual.
And ran right into your shopfront door.
Shattering the glass.
Fragments showered down on him like spiky drops of rain.
“Damn you actually smashed the front door?” Chris winced when Adrian sadly told him what had unfolded.
He still had little cuts but they were clearing up quickly from his healing factor. You offered him some sanrio themed band-aids and after helping sweep up Adrian jumped in the Sebring, crying to Bonnie Tyler's Eclipse of the Heart as he drove straight to Chris’ trailer.
“Why'd you run into it anyway?” Chris asked with a yawn. “See a criminal or your own shadow or something?”
“Because I got super anxious that I was gonna pop a boner in front of her!” Adrian explained.
“So she's hot?” Chris was now very interested in this story, leaning forward.
“Yes and she's rather pneumatic.” Adrian explained shyly, readjusting his glasses.
He had to clean them off with a microfiber cloth as the lens fogged up recalling you pressing those pillowy majestic things brushing against him earlier.
“Oh no I didn't know she was sick dude sorry to hear that.” Chris, the utter himbo that he was, sadly put a hand on his buddy's shoulder.
“No P, I mean her boobs, they're big, bouncy and amazing, kinda like hot air balloons, but over all she's a gorgeous sculpture, wide hips, her butt is better than T Swift's…” The vodka was untying his tongue, letting slip how he really saw you.
Adrian thought you were magnificent.
“Built for comfort, I get it.” Chris nodded knowingly.
“Built for a throne more like!” Adrian snapped, ripping the bottle of vodka off Chris for another swig.
“She's a queen! And I am a humble jester in her buxom court, wishing only to make her smile and laugh.”
He wouldn't mind being your throne though if you'd allow it, maybe his face? Yeah you could crush his head with those thick thighs, or sit on his dick, massive tits bouncing away…fuck.
Hold up, this was no way to think about a treasured friend!
“Damn dude you're seriously down bad for her.” Chris giggled, firing up a toke. “Why not ask her out?”
“Ugh did I just say all of that out loud?! And you know I hate marijuana, can't believe they legalized that shit.” Adrian frowned at the Devil's lettuce and Chris happily rescinded his offer, more for him.
“Don't worry bro, we're in the cone of BFF silence while I'm ripping cones. Just drink, kick back and relax my guy.” Chris reassured him.
“Okay, well I mean she's seriously beautiful inside and out though! I love her unique laugh and she's really smart, owns her own business and is funny, we have a lot of the same hobbies…” Adrian rambled on for a while about all the qualities he loved about you that weren't superficial and Chris waited for him to finish.
“Like this big, or this big?” Chris stretched his hands out at his chest. “Tell me when to stop going.”
“Around there.” Adrian eventually said, that seemed about right.
“Holy fuck.” Chris appraised down at his hands. “Nice.”
“Yeah…” Adrian sighed. “She is really nice and kind with the brightest smile and dazzling eyes in the whole entire world.”
“Also she has these majestic jugs that I want to put my face between and motorboat,” All inhibition was out of the way now that Chris gave the go ahead, “like I'm Roger Moore’s James Bond in 1977
classic The Spy Who Loved Me, jet-skiing with the white Spirit Marine Wetbike to evade Karl Stromberg's henchmen!” Adrian was sort of losing his BFF at this stage, hyperfixating.
“Showcasing the first-ever jet-ski to the public on film, years before personal watercraft was made available to the mainstream!” He finished brightly.
“I am way too high for whatever you just said.” Chris grimaced. “Should I buy a jet-ski though? Is that a good investment?” He was baked enough to take financial advice from Adrian at this stage.
“I mean we're a bit landlocked in Evergreen, plus you'd need to get a license and you're flat broke but hell yeah I think that's a great investment P!” Adrian knew all about great returns, his beanie babies collection would definitely hit the market again.
Thankfully Chris' bank thought it was a scammer trying to steal his card details. The terrible purchase was blocked and he lived to not be murdered by Harcourt for spending money on more frivolous bullshit another day.
Somehow after telling Chris his secret, coincidentally everyone at Checkmate knew that Adrian had a crush on you.
Super weird.
Langston who sat next to him was the worst perpetrator, teasing him whenever Adrian’s alarm went off for your Pokemon Go walks.
“Walking on Sunshine for your lil Sunshine huh Super Nerd?” He grinned at how embarrassed Adrian got.
“It's just a loud song that has the word walk in the lyrics! I didn't pick it for any other reason.” Adrian lied, glaring at his screen playing cool math games to try and calm down. “And I only named her that in my phone so I wouldn't get confused…”
Rip Jagger swaggered on by with a rude snarky, “You should change it to Walking on Broken Glass by Annie Lennox, cause that's gonna be your heart when she figures out how lame you really are.”
Judomaster as always loved finding out something new to poke him with, that fucking little guy…
“You guys go out on dates all the time though?” Adebayo brought it up at lunch. “Why not check in about the relationship?”
“No, those are Pokemon Go walks and events, we only hold hands when it gets cold.” Adrian insisted. “Or if one of us could get lost.”
Before anyone could get a word in edge wise, he quickly added, “Also she could get abducted, so if you think about it, it's actually a safety issue and makes sense for me to hold her hand the entire time.”
He looked very satisfied with that insane logic puzzle of platonic hand holding, the rest of the table grimacing at one another not wanting to go first unpacking it.
But Rip Jagger really didn't give a fuck about Adrian Chase's feelings. “Don't you have that weird thing about touching human skin, you discount store Jeffrey Dahmer?”
Adrian frowned daggers back, readjusting his 70s serial killer frames.“Human skin does feel gross! Generally, I squeeze her hand and it feels nice, plus her nails always have a pretty theme painted on them and she uses fragrant skin lotions.”
At the moment it was the Lovisia Pokepeace hand cream collabs, he wondered if you had on the piplup and rowlet lemon puree again?
“It rubs the lotion on the skin or else it gets the hose again…” John muttered and Rip snorted, sharing some of his spicy chips with him.
“You squeeze her hand?” Adebayo needed more clarification.
“Tightly for SAFETY!” Adrian snapped, “please P you get it right?” He needed his best buddy who had been silent in the wings, while devouring a bowl of wings.
“Sounds like you have a big ol crush there dude.” Chris shrugged, BBQ sauce all over his face.
“I don't want to ruin this P, she's so cool and I don't have many friends, let alone gal pals.” Adrian explained sadly, fiddling with his straw.
The paper was getting all sludgy in his iced strawberry matcha but Adrian loved the sea turtles more so supposed it was the price to pay.
“Gal pals?” Harcourt scoffed at the term.
“YES HARCOURT, GAL PALS. IT'S WHEN YOU ANSWER MY FRIENDSHIP TEXTS FOR SHOPPING AND MATCHA!” Adrian exploded in a fiery rage, face cherry red.
“Yikes.” Adebayo sipped on her caramel frappe.
“I told you to stop texting me Chase. I hate matcha, it tastes like grass, shopping is boring and your taste in movies is subpar.” Harcourt replied calmly before having more of her black coffee.
Probably not as dark or bitter as her soul, who the hell doesn't like watching Legally Blonde or Clueless? Adrian thought to himself with a pout.
“Moving on…” John interjected, not wanting to find out who would win between Adrian or Emilia.
“She enjoys my taste in movies! We have sleepovers all the time.” Adrian proclaimed.
“You guys sleepover huh?” Chris made a rude gesture with his fingers but it was lost on Adrian.
The sleepovers were totally platonic, there was that one time you were silly and accidentally forgot pyjamas so Adrian helpfully loaned you some. You wore his old Firefly shirt, stretching it out so nicely, he wanted you to do that with all of his clothes…
As Adrian told everyone this outloud, they all were slackjawed by how oblivious this dude truly was. “So you’re telling me she turned up to your place for a sleepover and didn’t bring anything to wear…and you responded by giving her clothes?” Langston had to know the extent of Adrian’s lack of rizz.
“Well duh, I’m a great host and friend!” Adrian rolled his eyes.
“And this weekend, you’re going on a big trip together?” John asked.
“Yes, we're also sharing a hotel room over the weekend at the Metropolis Pokemon convention.” Adrian replied.
“Sharing a hotel room?!” Adebayo exclaimed, completely exasperated.
“It saves money. The hotel is pricey and Pokemon themed. They even had a couples discount.” He explained.
“And you don't see how that's romantic?” Sasha asked with a sly grin.
“Uh couples just mean groups of two Bordeaux and I wouldn't do anything inappropriate! She's working a Pokemon card and merch vendor stall and I'm there to help and be her body guard.” Adrian was sick and tired of them not getting the big picture.
“Body guard at a Pokemen convention? What, in case she gets a paper cut?” Langston laughed.
“Actually, people are kinda crazy about Pokemon cards right now.” John agreed, “it's not a bad idea to have backup.”
“Yeah see! I'm just a backup, a guy who carries heavy bags. Stop trying to make it out to be more please.” Adrian couldn't let himself get deluded about you.
If he allowed that door to open, Adrian knew he couldn't be chill anymore around you, he'd text you above the daily limit of 100 messages, call you all the time and follow you around more than the Vigilante patrol checks to ensure you got home safe.
That would be total stalker behavior! And that was illegal!
“But Adrian, it sounds like this could be more between you…” Adebayo said sincerely. “Maybe talk to her about it?”
“Oh yeah because open honest communication is the answer here– get real!” Adrian laughed at her mockingly. “Look I don't know about you Ads but I don't live in a Hallmark movie and everyone calls me crazy and too quick to jump the gun with relationships.”
“Hm he's not wrong.” John said.
“You guys always say I'm way too clingy, call and text all the time, think I'm friends straight away, so what if my feelings are all in my head and she doesn't consider it the same? I'm trying to be respectful.” He huffed, stuffing his mouth with the creme brulee tarts he got as a way of distraction.
But the way they jiggled on the plate, god it reminded him of your impressive rack…the last time he saw you they were in a low-cut Deff Leppard tank top.
Fuck he wanted you to pour some of that sweet sugar on him.
Adrian wanted to play with your boobs like a sensory toy, gently grip and squeeze, they were just so lovely, plush and pillowy looking, his face would sit so nicely between them…
Oh he'd be such a good boy for you, his voluptuous, curvaceous, bountiful marshmallow queen.
Wait. How could he think so lecherously about his sweet, bubbly, well-endowed friend like that?!
Adrian felt like crying and hitting his head against the table. “I'm a feminist!” He suddenly declared, doing the latter.
“Who pissed in your drink?” Harcourt was over his outbursts.
“Everything reminds me of her.” He sighed, staring forlorn over at John's pudding and Adebayo’s sundae of two vanilla scoops with cherries on them.
“She's got massive jugs. Adrian's always going on about them whenever we hit the booze.” Chris clued them in, crudely motioning with his hands outward.
“Hey, that's private! Secrets told in the cone of BFF silence!” Adrian glared at Chris who had the audacity to merely shrug.
“I mean there's no hiding those things. He showed me pics.” Chris got his phone out and handed it around the table.
A photo of you standing with Adrian at a Pokemon event, you were dressed up in a Kaede the Sugarbug Gym Leader cosplay, arms linked with his, Adrian’s face a bright pink and deliriously happy. The source of his joy was obvious, your ample chest was pressed right at his forearm.
“You're a boob guy? Nice, Super nerd.” Langston approved.
“I'm more of an ass man myself.” Chris nodded sagely.
“I'm not talking about this around our current company.” John held his hands up like a hostage.
“Coward. I like tits.” Sasha snarked.
“TNA both are great.” Harcourt shrugged.
“Agree, but if I'd have to pick, ass.” Adebayo said.
“Ass is great.” Rip nodded.
“Okay fine, I'm actually more of a thigh guy.” John admitted sheepishly.
“I can really see that you know…” Harcourt mused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.
They all started chatting around their reasoning leaving Adrian going back and forth like he was watching a tennis game.
“You should invite your venus di milo over to the office before you head to Metropolis.” Harcourt said a suggestion, but her tone implied it was more of a direct order.
So when it was your scheduled Pokemon Go walk that evening, Adrian felt his hand sweating bullets, kept firmly in his windbreaker pocket. The other had his phone on the look out for another Chimchar. The gang told him holding hands wasn’t a normal friendship thing.
Adrian really didn’t want you to realise he was fucking weird and stop hanging out with him.
“Adrian, are you feeling okay?” You asked, he looked awfully pale, brow furrowed.
“Yes!” He insisted, trying not to look at your cute dimpled cheeks, sakura pink painted lips, or especially down at the fluffy collared cable knit sweater.
Fuck, he glanced down again at your incredible rack. It was peak sweater weather and you somehow looked even sexier in winter clothes than summer. How was that fair?
“Want to see my new nails?” You offered him your hand, but Adrian stared from a distance. Usually he would take your hand and examine them closely up at his thick wired frames.
“Very nice!” He offered a half-smile at the sparkly pink set.
Along with the matching dusted pink leg warmers and a curve-hugging cream woollen skirt, you really were like a beautiful marshmallow queen sent from the fey realm.
Great now he was checking out your lucious thick thighs like a total perv as well, stupid EconoGOAT.
“Thanks! I got you something for winter. It's a super exclusive one.” You dug into your handbag and got out a long blue teal striped scarf.
“Woah is that a choice scarf?” Adrian marveled at the soft wool.
“Yeah, I thought you'd like the colors.” You said shyly, watching him wrap it around.
“I love it! Where did you get it? Imported?” Adrian asked, hoping it wasn't too expensive.
“Well it's actually one of a kind.” You admitted fiddling with the strap of your handbag, “I knitted it for you.”
Adrian froze in place at that, eyes widening. “You made this?”
“Yeah, I also made these leg warmers.” You got shy with how intensely he was staring.
“For me?” Adrian still wasn't processing it properly. Surely there was some mistake here.
“Of course, you're really important to me! Hope you like it.” You
“I love it!” Adrian beamed, wow this was the nicest thing anyone had ever made for him.
The only other handmade thing he got were the horrible scratchy Christmas sweaters his stupid mother made him wear every year.
He leant right in, trying to think of the right words, not wanting to come across too strong and ruin the friendship.
Woah, he was getting closer, maybe your feelings got across with the present, did Adrian sense the love that went into it?
You smiled back at him hopefully until he continued with, “you're such a good gal pal.” Then a hand clapped impersonally on your shoulder like a consolation prize.
He meant it genuinely, but the term stung, tears threatening to swell.
You wanted to be so much more to him but Adrian seemed embarrassed to hold your hand today and was keeping his distance.
Maybe he'd figured out your feelings at long last and didn't return them?
“Yeah that's me…your gal pal.” You laughed awkwardly, trying to not be upset but Adrian didn't pick up on your change in demeanor and laughed along.
“My friends at work want to meet you, did you wanna swing by the office before going to Metropolis?” Adrian offered.
“Oh sure! I’d love that.” You couldn't stay upset, just like Adrian your emotions were like a rollercoaster. Besides, you had been wanting to meet his friends for ages now.
The next morning, Adrian picked you up and helped load your suitcases. Checkmate was a fancy office building, but nobody really wore a corporate suit. So you felt a little bit better for how you were dressed up. An entirely Sims 2 inspired outfit with a red knit dress and thigh high black leather boots and of course some pokemon badges and swing charms on your handbag, today was Primarina, Feebas and Milotics turn.
“How are you guys getting to Metropolis?” Adebayo asked, showing you into the elevator.
“We're taking the Sebring of course.” Adrian seemed affronted by the question, puffing out his chest, “it's super reliable. I service it myself.”
“My stall and merchandise is all shipped over there ready for me to set up.” You explained.
“Wow an eagle! You’re so handsome.” Rather than introduce yourself to the gang, you immediately rushed over to the animal in the room.
“That’s Eagly.” Chris replied bemused.
“Does he like sour cream and onion chips?” You asked, getting a packet out of your bag.
“He does they are his favorite, how did you know that?” Chris was floored when Eagly did a little excited dance and ate out of your palm.
“I mean what else would be their favorite?” You asked back, and Adrian nodded wisely.
With that introductions were made with the humans of the office and you got shown around the desks and different spaces of Checkmate. Adrian froze when you got to his desk, the screensaver. It was of Vigilante and Peacemaker…he forgot to change it!
“That’s uh…” Adrian winced when you smiled at the monitor.
“You and Chris in your fun costumes! So cool you fight crime.” You said non-plussed.
“You know?” Adrian couldn’t believe it.
With a sweet hum, you admired the cute trinkets at his desk, including a Slowpoke glasses stand you had gotten him. “Of course, you saved my store from robberies and those awful scalpers.”
“Right, um and you’re fine with it?” Adrian fretted with his rubix cube.
“Yep!” You replied cheerfully and then paused at a picture frame with two little Cinccinos holding hands, the photograph inside was of you and Adrian at a Pokemon Go event.
Then you saw the Slowpoke glasses holder again and got an idea, taking off your glasses and putting on his spare glasses.
“Hey check this out! Guess which one is me and which one is Adrian?” You slid them up your nose, giving them the Adrian special.
“WE'RE LIKE TWINS!” You shouted, already in a wheezing laugh, hands slapping your knees.
The office paused to stare at you two standing in the same pose. You started to cackle like a lunatic at the bewilderment on everyone's faces, pointing back and forth between you and Adrian, who joined you, laughing away like a maniac at the gag, he then swapped to wear your glasses.
“Wow, that sure is something…” Harcourt mused under her breath.
“Damn she’s perfect for him.” Adebayo agreed with a toothy grin.
“Do you have a boyfriend or partner?” Rip asked you, loudly chomping away at some flaming hot cheetoes. Adrian snapped at him to shut up.
“No I don’t, my bed is empty. Well not empty, I have all of the life-sized eeveelution plushies, Flareon is the best hugger.” You replied with an anxious giggle.
“Oooh that makes sense!” Adrian nodded in total agreement, flashing you a princely smile that made your heart skip a few beats. “And don’t ask her such personal questions.”
“We should probably get to Metropolis now to check in for our hotel.” You reminded him, unable to hide the blush that rose from Adrian sticking up for you.
Saying goodbye to everyone by the Sebring, Adebayo and Harcourt had a conspiratorial air to them when they asked what you were going to wear for pyjamas. Showing your luggage, it was a modest flannel set, having learned your lesson from the last time you tried ‘forgetting’ your pjs.
The drive to Metropolis was filled mostly with 90s and 00s pop music, animal facts and of course Pokemon quizzing between you both, making it go by like no time had passed.
“Congratulations!” The concierge lady, Fran, greeted you both on check-in.
“Uh thanks, but what for?” Adrian asked.
“For your honeymoon of course! Mr. Chase, you booked our couples deal in the honeymooners suite. And this must be Mrs. Chase, wow, aren't you two just the cutest! My grandkids also love Pokemon!” Fran gushed.
“I just got that room for the discount…” Adrian frowned. “I didn't realize it meant romantic couples.”
“Oh sorry for the mix-up! Anywho here's your keys and we can take your bags upstairs. Get settled in, there's a Jacuzzi in the bathroom.” Fran didn't have time for this, she was a busy woman, and shoved the key card into his hand.
The hotel was fancy, heading into the honeymoon suite Adrian inadvertently booked. You both marveled at the decor outside of general cutesie Pokemon plushies, the bed had silk red and white sheets, large heart pillows with I choose you! on them.
A bottle of champagne and rose bouquet sat on the table with a box of luvdisc chocolates. Petals were on the bed suggestively, fluffy robes for two to wear.
“Wow…um…” You were more than a little lost for words. This really was a romantic room after all.
“There's seriously been some kind of mistake, I can call the front desk for another room!” Adrian panicked, dropping his bags and lunging for the hotel phone.
But instead he tripped over the cord and smashed a hand on the remote by the nightstand.
The unmistakable saxophone of George Michael’s Careless Whisper began to play from the sound system.
I feel so unsure…
As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor
As the music dies, something in your eyes…
Both of your eyes suddenly locked, an intense gaze caught in the drifting music, before Adrian blushed profusely and chickened out.
“Shit, I wondered why they asked me what 80s love ballad I liked best, I thought it was supposed to be like a security question or something…” Adrian fumbled around trying to switch it off.
Instead he only succeeded in finding the volume turning it up. “How does this fucking stupid thing work?!”
TONIGHT THE MUSIC SEEMS SO LOUD~
Slamming another button, the lights went lower, setting an even more romantic mood, as they glowed red with hearts across the ceiling.
“Yes hello, how do I turn the music off? Also the lights are going all funny. And I think I booked the wrong room…uh okay yes I'll hold.”
“It's okay I like this room Adrian, let's keep it.” You laid down on the bed.
“But there isn't a cot like I requested for me to sleep on.” Adrian tensed as you settled a hand on your hip, gazing at him.
“This is a big bed, let's just share it.” You insisted, taking his hand and motioning for him to relax.
“O-okay.” Adrian sighed, “I guess we'll only be here for sleep anyway.
“Maybe this is the button to switch it off?” You wondered, hitting a big red one on the remote. Then the bed began to shake.
Yelping as the vibration caught you off guard, you nearly tumbled from the bed but Adrian caught you.
We could have been so good together…
We could have lived this dance forever…
Staring up at him, you were both so close, noses nearly touching.
But now, who's gonna dance with me?
Please stay…
His arm had pinned yours down into the mattress, making you shudder but then Adrian quickly leapt back and grabbed the remote to turn it off. The music and rotating disco ball of hearts stopped as well.
“So the bed vibrates…” You stated lightly with a giggle, trying to clear the air.
“Yeah such a dumb feature, and like why is there a big heart shaped mirror directly in front of the bed? So stupid…” Adrian frowned, then upon realising what the mirror was for his jaw hung open like a carp into a small o.
“I'm gonna go take a shower before we head to the convention.” He dashed into the bathroom and you began to worry when Adrian was gone for over half an hour.
"Are you okay?" Knocking on the door all you got was a muffled yelp that he was fine. After he got out, you decided to take one too and were surprised that there was still warm water.
"Y-yeah, I take cold showers..t-totally like all the t-time..." Adrian didn't sound overly convincing, shivering even down the elevator.
The Metropolis Pokemon Convention was one of the largest in years and you had been gearing up to prepare your stall, ready to go.
Steve Lombard was not a Pokemon regular. In fact, he was repulsed by the whole concept. It was for total nerds, just sitting around a table wasting money, not like watching sports or betting on sports. That was different. “Why the hell am I here reporting on whatever this nerd crap is? I'm a sports columnist!”
Jimmy Olsen, was a fan of Pokemon and especially enjoyed the cute cosplayers. Many of the ladies' numbers were already in his pocket. “Come on Steve, it's just a bit of fun! Besides, Pokemon is competitive so if you really think about it…”
“Next time I'm getting assigned to a poker tournament then.” Steve rolled his eyes, surveying the hall with a scowl.
That was until he happened upon your stall. “Well hello there…” Steve straightened his collar up, on the prowl. You were a beautiful diamond in the rough here and he wasn't the kind of guy to not shoot his shot.
“Where are you going?” Jimmy tagged behind him, taking photographs of the stage. A few cosplayers sadly bid him farewell.
“I think I spy an exclusive one on one interview!” Steve grinned, slicking back his hair.
“Hey there gorgeous, I'm Steve Lombard, reporter for the Daily Planet. Might've heard of it?” He saddled right up and showed off his media badge.
“Oh wow, yes that's a major paper!” Your eyes widened at how official it looked.
“Yeah, sure is. Wow you're stacked, uh, I mean your stacked stall is really impressive. I'd love to take you out to dinner and discuss your local business.” Steve nearly tripped himself up there, admiring your beauty.
“I can't believe you want to plug my business!” You replied brightly.
“Oh sweetheart, I'd love nothing more…” Steve grinned and Jimmy grimaced.
Adrian frowned, noticing the eyeline going on from Steve. You weren't clued into when guys were clearly ogling you, seeing the best in everyone. It was one of the major reasons why Adrian loved you so much.
But also why he was here to protect you.
Turning to a seething Adrian you were none the wiser, “Did you hear that Adrian? I'd love to, thank you Steve. That'd be so amazing for my store!” You were so giddy, clapping your hands together.
“Shall we say around 7, drinks at my hotel room?” Steve replied, eyeing you up and down lecherously.
“Okay, where's your hotel? Is it close to ours?” You asked innocently.
“Wait a second, why not a public space, say like a restaurant?” Adrian snapped, arms folded. He really didn't like this guy and his slimy vibe.
“Sure great idea, we can get dinner on the company credit card then go up for drinks. You like Thai food?” Steve shrugged, undeterred.
“I love Thai food!” You nodded.
“Fantastic.” Steve grinned.
“See you then, Adrian also loves Thai food so it's a great choice. Do you like it as well?” You turned to Jimmy who snickered as Steve paled.
“Uh I meant a private dinner to get the scoop…” Steve floundered.
“Oh sorry but I'm visiting Metropolis with my friend and don't want to put him out.” You smiled up at Adrian who looked thoroughly relieved.
“Just your friend huh?” Steve surmised with a cocky grin. “So still a chance then. Take my card and give me a call when you're free. I'll be in Evergreen for the major league game.”
“Alrighty, talk to you then Mr. Lombard!” You beamed, over the moon.
“I'd say please call me Steve but that sounded very nice from your lips.” Steve chuckled, Jimmy dragging him away before a harassment suit could be filed.
“What a nice man.” You hummed away obliviously.
“Can I see that card?” Adrian asked, brows knitted in an uncharacteristic frown.
“Sure thing,” handing it over, you were appalled when he shredded it up. “hey what was that for?!”
“He was obviously flirting with you.” Adrian snapped with a huff.
“He was? Well what does that matter to you, it's not like I'm dating anyone.” You snapped back, startling him.
“I'm just your stupid gal pal after all.” The words spilt out, and so did a few tears.
When he tried to comfort you with a hand, you knocked it back. “I can look after myself, why don't you leave me alone for a while and go around the convention.”
“...okay.” Adrian didn't know what else to say. You were that upset at being his gal pal?
Was he really truly this awful to have as a friend? Clingy, annoying, now he'd ruined something important for your livelihood out of petty jealousy.
Sounded like you really wanted to date that sleazy Steve dude too. Adrian was sad Charlie Browning it through the convention, not even rad Pokemon cards or awesome merch could cheer him up.
“Hey, it's Napoleon Dynamite from earlier!” Steve laughed.
Begrudgingly, Adrian decided to swallow his pride and asked, “could I get another business card to pass on to her?”
“Sure, let that hottie know I'm available whenever.” Steve eagerly fished another card out of his wallet.
“Yeah, thanks…” Adrian mumbled, shuffling off to go circle back to you.
But someone stopped him just in time, the plucky red haired guy from earlier.
“You shouldn't give her that card. He's a total jerk and clearly you're interested so how about you give her this one instead and let her know how you feel?” Jimmy suggested, swapping the business card.
“Clark Kent?” Adrian read out, sounded like a nobody.
“He's a real Pokemon nerd. And in a committed relationship, all around a great guy. He'll get a story, I'll take pictures. She'll get her business promoted. Now try and go get your girl.” Jimmy really didn't want to spell it out anymore and Adrian finally understood.
Meanwhile you were dealing with the public, most of them amazing and just genuinely into the hobby like you were. Then you encountered the annoying kind of customer, a total know it all.
He had the look of a scalper or wannabe influencer, loudly recording anyone and everything on his phone obnoxiously.
“Hey chat, check out this booth!” The man declared, waving around wildly and touching every single one of the charms, plushies and not putting any of them back properly.
“Woah I totally need this card, can I give you a hundred for it?” He pointed at a rare gen card, acting as though you didn't know the stuff.
“This one is generally worth two hundred but I'm happy to trade or…” You replied, showing him some other cards.
“Come on! I'm offering a hundred right now in cash and you'll get the exposure of being on my VOD!” He whined. “It's so not worth two!”
“It is worth more but I accept trades, if you have a similar rated card…” You attempted to reason with him but that didn't appear to be an option.
Now he was making fun of you on his stupid stream, incentivizing followers to go harass your store.
“Hey motherfucker. You're a twitcher?” A sharp venomous voice called out and Adrian was back, arms crossly folded.
“It's called a streamer old man and yeah I have like 10k followers…” The guy scoffed.
“No you misunderstand me, see if you keep harassing her they're going to call you a twitcher. Because that's all you're gonna be able to do when I break every bone in your body. Twitch.” Adrian's eyes went serial killer wide, menacingly enough to send the asshole running.
“Thanks Adrian.” You said shyly, feeling a little bad for yelling at him before.
“I'm sorry for tearing up that card. Here's a new one. It's for this dude Clark Kent though, he's into Pokemon. But if you really wanted to go on that date with Steve…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
“Do you want me to go?” You asked.
“It's your choice, I respect whoever you wish to date or not date.” Adrian said immediately, “but do I want you to? No, not really.” He admitted, staring down at his squeaky clean new balances.
“Why not?” You probed him further.
“B-because, he was a jerk. I don't think he was actually admiring your store or smart business sense…I mean does he even know that one of your favorite animals is the owl monkey?”
“They're the only nocturnal monkeys and have monochromatic vision! Plus these tiny little ears which is why their genus name is Aotus…” You agreed excitedly.
“Earless! Aww so cute.” Adrian interjected with a toothy grin.
“Were you maybe jealous then?” You suggested.
“Wha– no! Pfft that'd be super toxic of me and make me a super lame friend.” His voice was going into strange muppet mode again, fiddling with an elastic band around his wrist.
“Right, okay nevermind then.” You sighed.
“Maybe I was a little jealous. A lot jealous.” Adrian said, scratching the back of his neck.
“Really?” That made your heart soar as Adrian shyly nodded, putting down a back in five sign, he took your hand to go take a proper look at the convention.
“I'm getting a phone call, sorry.” Adrian determined from the loud Barbie Girl lyrics buzzing out of his back pocket.
“Oh yeah Ads she's here with me, why do you want to talk to her?” He frowned at the phone. “Screw me I guess, here.” Handing you the phone, Adrian waddled off to inspect some Piplup plushies.
“Hello?”
“Hey girl, how's the convention going?” Adebayo asked.
“It's going really great.” You said a little confused.
“Harcourt and I packed something special in your luggage. You should wear it if you like it!”
“Huh?” But they didn't elaborate, hanging up.
When you both got back to the hotel, it was still a bit awkward between you two. Ordering room service was nice, the package deal was ramen and you'd both stocked up on your favorite snacks to share.
“Let's watch another Cage flick!” Adrian suggested, turning on the TV. “Oooh they have Vampire's Kiss on here. He ate a real cockroach for that you know…”
“Or we could do…something else?” You suggested, batting your eyes up at him.
“Like what?” Adrian asked with a befuddled frown.
“Listen to some music?” You stole the remote and pressed play on one you had in mind.
“C-cool. Yeah we can do that.” Adrian squeaked as you sat back into the crook of his forearm.
“This is my top 80s love ballad.” You announced as Joan Jett's Do You Wanna Touch Me started filling the bedroom. “What do you think?”
“Killer song choice…” Adrian slunk back against the pillows as you tried to shuffle in closer.
“I should go get my jammies on and put my retainer in!” He leapt from the bed. Man that was close, you probably didn't realize it but that song was pretty suggestive.
A minor setback in your plan but you had anticipated this. Besides Adebayo and Harcourt had given you a hail Mary.
How they knew your measurements was kinda spooky though.
“Hey Adrian, there's a bunch of new limited stickers that were given to me for the convention. Want first dibs on some?” You sang out to him.
“Oh that'd be awe–” He began, strolling in still brushing his teeth, then Adrian took in your pajamas, which constituted a lacy silk negligee and matching shorts, “...some.” Toothpaste dribbled down his chin onto his old Evergreen High mathlete shirt.
“Sorry, you're already getting changed in your jammies, I'm not looking I swear!” Adrian clapped hands over his eyes shut, slightly peeking at your cleavage through the cracks of his fingers.
Fuck your amazing boobs were in teal with white polka dots, and just sheer enough to see the outline of your nipples, hard from the cold night air. Wrapped up in a bow that he could untie with his teeth…ugh he was the worst!
It’s just clothes Adrian, he kept repeating to himself.
“You can look!” You called out as Adrian ducked back into the bathroom. “I'm all done changing.”
Awkwardly he waddled back out. “Maybe you should wear the robe, it's kinda chilly.” He suggested, holding it out for you, eyes still shut.
“No thanks, I'm comfy. Now sit with me!” You told him sweetly, but death gripped his arm to pull Adrian down next to you.
“I put some of the body ones on, they're love balls and meant to smell like strawberry shortcake. Can you check for me?”
You'd put them right on your decolletage. This was surely a horny dream that Adrian was going to wake up from again and have to clean the sheets.
But instead of waking up, the dream continued with you firmly shoving his face into your cleavage.
“They uh smell like strawberry shortcake wow that's…cool. Yep I'm feeling quite refreshed from that scent. Thank you my kind lady, however, I must now bid you adieu!” Adrian leapt to his feet and tried to flee, holding his Pokemon binder over his crotch suspiciously.
“Adrian, I obviously put these on my tits because I want you to touch them.”
“B-but I'm not certified in giving mammograms.” Adrian stuttered, hands up like he was being taken hostage.
“No, I mean listen to the song I literally put on! I want you to touch me, as in I like you more than a friend!” In the words of Avril Lavigne you really couldn't make this anymore obvious.
Not leaving anything more to chance you flung yourself at him, crashing your lips onto his. Adrian returned it, hands desperate, pawing at your waist as if he had been wanting to do this ever since he’d met you.
“Oh.” Adrian malfunctioned for a couple moments after the kiss, face scrunching up until rebooting with a bright toothy grin. “What a coincidence, I like you a lot more than a platonic friend too!” He exclaimed, a puzzle finally solved dazzling through his green eyes.
“Thank goodness, that was going to be incredibly awkward if you didn't. In fact I think I might've died from the cringe.” You instantly relaxed, falling into his arms for a well needed hug.
“Do you want to bond with me then?” Adrian wondered, kissing your hair.
“Bond…like with sex?” You assumed, recalling the term from when he told you about his former escapades once.
“Yeah.” Adrian nodded like a bobble head. “But not friendship bonding, boyfriend girlfriend bonding.” He added tentatively.
“I'd like that for sure.” You replied, “I'd love to be your girlfriend.”
“Killer, because I'm getting serious blue great poke balls over here ever since you shoved my face into your tits!” Adrian laughed and you joined him in a breathless kiss, more giggling than passionate.
Adrian's hands went straight onto his hips in a flash, pushing his sweatpants down and at full mast.
“Better help you out then!” You grinned.
Adrian moaned as you undid the bow from the front.
“Oh foxy mama, fuck yes, wow you're so hot…” He bit down on his lip when your breasts came tumbling out, tugging down his teal boxer shorts.
“Foxy mama?” You giggled, eyes widening at the nice curve of him springing out.
“Did I stutter?” Adrian grinned, hands already greedily kneading your breasts like he was a cat making biscuits.
“Your tits are so bouncy…” Adrian sighed contentedly. “Like two big water balloons but I would never throw them around.” He ensured you knew that, kissing them gently.
“Or more like stress balls, ohh fuck they feel so soft and gooood…” He groaned, rubbing his face against them. “If I was on shag carpet right now, that'd be the ultimate sensory overload,” Adrian hummed, digging through his wallet and rolling a condom on.
You didn't need to hear anymore, shoving him off the bed and onto the carpet.
“How's this, your dream coming true?” You asked from above with a playful smirk, straddling him.
“I might honestly cum.” Adrian warned you with a wince as you ground your hips against his.
“Mmm…I like the sound of that.” You whispered into the shell of his ear before shoving his face into your tits and lowering yourself down.
The relentless pace you set near knocked the wind out of him.
“How's that?” You asked in a sultry whisper, hands splayed on his chest, enjoying curls of his chest hair.
Adrian didn't have the proper words to approach how amazing it felt.
You were a vision of beauty, bouncing away, shag carpet giving him a gentle rug burn on his ass, Adrian was in pure heaven right now, completely stimming.
“Feels good?” You giggled teasingly, wow you'd never had Adrian at a loss for words before.
All he could do was nod, panting, “feels amazing, fuck you're so good at this…” Adrian grunted, writhing underneath you.
The contrast of textures, your soft curves and harsh carpet was totally overwhelming. Then there were his hands, you'd taken them to keep ahold of your tits, Adrian felt drunk off your pussy, mouth agape and moaning, “yeah fuck me baby, fuck me hard just like that!”
That spurred you on to go faster for him, sinking up and down with a breathtaking rhythm.
“Fuck you're so beautiful, ohh I'm the luckiest guy in the whole entire world right now!” He couldn't even really buck his hips back, legs spread, you were riding him so damn well.
“Yeah, you like taking it sweet thing?” You smirked.
“L-love it, ohh I fucking love you!” Adrian burst out and confessed, looking mortified until you grinned.
“Oh my freaking goodness no way! I love you too!” You exclaimed in pure joy. The two of you grinned and giggled like dorks for a short while until you continued to move.
“Can't uhh h-hold on, fuck wait I'll seriously bust like super fast…” Adrian desperately whined, head titled back in total ecstasy. His glasses were completely useless and fogged up, slipping off his nose.
“That's okay, cum inside for me like a good boy!” You replied brightly, hands threading through his hair and then tugged roughly to bring him up for a kiss.
He didn't last long from that, letting out a guttural shout, throat catching as he released thick and hot into the latex. You stole his lips again, enjoying the whimpering pleading moans vibrating on your tongue.
“Holy fuck, I don't think I've ever nutted that hard before…” Glasses sliding clean from his nose, Adrian was delirious and awestruck when you rolled off him.
“I uh sorry, what can I do to get you there?” Adrian asked once he was able to string a thought together.
Laying back on the silk sheets you hummed appraisingly at him. “Don't know, got any great ideas in there?” You twirled a lock of hair around your finger suggestively.
Adrian frowned for a second in deep thought before an idea struck like a lightning bolt. “I'm really good at eating pussy!” He exclaimed excitedly, crawling hands and knees on the mattress to join you.
“Ooh yay let's do that!” You replied just as excited, the two of you bouncing on the bed in glee together for a second.
“Killer! Get comfy, I'm about to take you on the Chase express, all stations to cumsville!” Adrian laughed like a goofball, looking a little sheepish until you joined in.
“Choo-choo!” You laughed back just as goofily. “Lucky I bought my ticket!”
“Yeah, time for me, the train conductor, to stamp it with my tongue!” Adrian played along, sloppily kissing your inner thighs.
“Oooh can't wait for you to drive me, locomotion…” You sighed, but that stirred Adrian back up.
“Well actually, see the train engineer is in charge of operating the train. Pulling the locomotive controls, monitoring speed, but while the engineer may be in physical control of the train, truly the conductor calls the shots.” Adrian was kinda losing the sexy fantasy and starting to describe to you the roles of railway employees, but his heart was in the right place.
“Okay mister conductor, conduct me then please?” You reminded him why he was between your legs right now.
“Oh right!” Adrian snapped out of it and delved right in, slotting his mouth over your core.
Tight loving circles swathed with his tongue at your clit had you aching for more, gripping his curly hair taut.
It didn't take long to figure out his claims were correct, you were reeling from his five oclock shadow grazing your inner thighs, bridge of his nose and glasses bumping just right at your clit.
Adrian was lapping every cry from your lips and moaning, vibrating while drinking in your core, relishing the release you gave him, his name bounding off the hotel walls.
“Can you…turn around for me? Maybe uh get on all fours?” Adrian asked, whetting his lips to taste you gain when he came up for air.
“Sure I can do that,” you eagerly got in position, pillows under your stomach and elbows, buzzing with anticipation at him taking control.
Then you remembered. The mirror.
Adrian clearly hadn’t forgotten, transfixed with it, as he entered you. “Oh fuck look how well we're bonded right now, that's so fucking good…” He grunted, eyes locked with the reflection of you two. “Love being connected like this,” his hand went down to lovingly caress where you were joined.
“You're so tight for me, taking my cock so fucking well, like you were made for it, look at that, fuck,” his voice is practically purring against your ear, tongue tracing the shell and teeth nibbling the lobe.
“Come on, don't be shy, look.” Adrian cupped your jaw, tilting it upward to face the mirror. “You're so fucking hot, look at what you're doing to me…”
“It's a little embarrassing…” You whined, but took in the lust ridden focus written across Adrian's expression.
“No it's not, you're beautiful,” he pressed a line of kisses up and down your neck, “I love you, you're perfect.”
His hands are everywhere clutching at your hips, waist and breasts, anywhere he can find purchase to thrust deeper, hit that spot that makes you shout his name louder.
“We're like pairing mates for life now right? Sorry if it’s toxic, but I kinda want you all to myself forever…” Adrian rested his head on your shoulder and you felt a dampness.
But it wasn't droplets of sweat.
He was softly crying.
“Y-yes we are Adrian, I'm yours! For life and forever.” You reassured him, giving his hand a tender squeeze.
“Oh that's fucking awesome sauce, I'm always gonna be yours babydoll! This cock is now officially reserved for you only!” Adrian grinned widely, wiping the tears from his face before snapping his hips forward again.
“L-lucky me…fuck you're so good at this Adrian!” Encouraging him earned you a resounding chorus of choked moans from you both.
Crossing your arms behind your back, Adrian set an unrelenting pace, jackhammering his hips, all the while watching himself in the mirror make you fall completely undone. “Yeah that's it, take me,” He repeated in a fervent whisper.
“Adrian, I can't, I'm going to cum…” You whined, bucking your hips back for even more of that sweet friction.
“That’s okay cum for me like a good girl!” Adrian smiled against your shoulder blade, cheekily using your line from earlier. “I wanna see your cutie patootie o-face!” He gripped your chin again and tilted it upward so your eyes joined to watch the reflection.
"Ahh fuck, I-I'm coming for you Adrian!" You screamed for him, a release began, at first a light fluttering in your walls. Then a pleasured wave hit white hot, squeezing his cock so tightly that Adrian sobbed into his own orgasm, chasing yours.
The rest of the night was spent basking in the warmth of your bodies finally intertwined together, giggling about how long it took to realise you both felt the same way.
With a determination to not lose any more time, outside of making a brief appearance to the convention the next morning, there was a spectacular marathon of lovemaking to be had.
Which eventuated in housekeeping needing to let Fran downstairs at concierge know that your suite was now officially the Honeymoon suite and do not disturb.
synopsis: You and Adrian talk things out, and though things are still tense, a major development in the case leaves you and the rest of the pack hopeful that this nightmare will end soon.
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, omegaverse dynamics, alpha!Adrian, omega!reader, more overprotective!Adrian, a tiny but of smut (hello angry sex) but mostly plot
word count: 4.2k
notes: sorry not sorry for last week LMAO we were due for some angst, please forgive me. things can only go up from here, right? Thank you as always to my beta readers @embeanwrites and @snowyathena
Masterlist | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen
Adrian gives you space that night, for a few hours. At least, that’s what he tells himself. That he’s giving you space. There’s also part of him that just can’t bring himself to face you. But he also can’t bear to stay that far. So he sits on the floor outside the bedroom door, and he listens.
He hears dresser drawers opening and closing, hears the ensuite shower running, hears the rustling afterward as you pull your pajamas on and adjust the covers.
He doesn’t deserve to sleep in bed beside you tonight, but he’s a selfish bastard. Once you fall silent, once you’re lying in bed alone, he creaks open the door carefully and waits. If you yell at him—if you tell him to stay away—then he will. He’ll sleep on the floor right here outside the door.
You don’t shout. You don’t even look up. He knows you’re not asleep yet, but you stay quiet anyway, and don’t protest or kick him the hell out when he slides beneath the covers next to you. He lets out a shaky exhale of relief. You’re mad, yes, and maybe you haven’t forgiven him, but—you still love him enough, trust him enough, to let him into your nest. He hasn’t fucked this up beyond repair.
But then you roll onto your side, away from him. Putting distance between your bodies, instead of curling into him like you usually do. And he knows he has a lot of apologizing to do for what he did tonight. The things he said.
He swallows past the lump in his throat and lays down next to you, facing in your direction, watching the rise and fall of your back as you breathe. He chokes down a desperate plea for forgiveness he doesn’t deserve right now, and then he flops onto his back and stares at the ceiling, hating himself, until sheer exhaustion lulls him to sleep.
You aren’t in bed when Adrian wakes up in the morning.
He’s moved in his sleep, subconsciously scooted closer to your side of the bed. His arm is draped over the empty space where you slept, hand clutching at the sheets, hugging your pillow to his chest instead of you. His heart twists violently, and he’s struck with the same terrible fear and guilt that he felt last night as the memory of your argument rushes back.
But—you’re still here. Still home, at least. Adrian sits up and strains to listen through the tiny crack of the open bedroom door. He can hear you padding around the kitchen, something sizzling in a frying pan, the clatter of plates as you take them out of the cabinets.
He gets up and walks toward the sound. You immediately look up at him when he enters the kitchen, and he stops in his tracks like a spooked animal. If you want him to, he’ll turn right around and walk back to the bedroom. Give you some space.
But then he realizes—there are two plates in front of you. And you’re loading them up with chocolate chip pancakes, his favorite. Something hopeful lights up inside him as you push a plate across the counter in his direction hesitantly. Your guard is still up, and it kills him. That you feel like you have to be on guard around him.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts, eyes welling with tears as he stares at your chocolate-chip-pancake olive branch. You’re offering him a grace right now that he doesn’t feel like he deserves. “I’m—I’m—I didn’t mean to—command you, or control you, like that, baby, I didn’t—I’m so sorry—” His voice cracks.
Your face softens a bit when you see how torn up about it he is.
“I know you didn’t mean it,” you say. “I know that, Alpha. But—” You bite your lip. “But you still did.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, a broken whisper. “For—for doing that, for yelling, for all of it. I don’t want to fight. Not with you. I’ll fight the rest of the world with my bare hands every day for the rest of my life, I’ll kill anyone I have to, as long as I get to come home to you at the end of the day, I never want you to doubt that, I—”
“I don’t doubt that you love me, Adrian. I have never doubted that.” You pause and let that sink in, easing some of the tension in his shoulders.
Adrian watches you talk with wide, wet eyes and a trembling lower lip. Because he knows that whatever you’re feeling, it’s not that simple. And he’s not emotionally intelligent enough to read your mind, not when it comes to things like this. So he stays quiet and waits.
“I do doubt sometimes that…that you trust me,” you finally say hesitantly.
“What?”
“You fight for us all the time,” you say. “I love that you fight for what you think is right all the time. It’s one of my favorite things about you. You go out on patrols because you want to make our city, our home, safer. You go out on missions because you want to make the whole world safer. You are fighting, all the time, for me and our pack and the whole fucking universe. But you don’t trust me to fight with you.”
“That’s not—” Adrian protests, but you hold a hand up and his mouth snaps shut.
“I was so…” You pause and try to puzzle the words out. “I went on that mission with Emilia, and I felt more important, more useful, than I have in months. I felt good. And I came back and all I wanted was for you to be proud of me, but instead you were mad at me.”
You go quiet and look at Adrian expectantly, and he realizes it’s his turn to talk. He takes a moment to process what you said, turning his own response over in his mind before speaking.
“I was terrified yesterday,” he says. “When I got back to the office and I couldn’t find you, and then—when Economos said you were—I just kept turning over every possibility in my mind. Everything that could go wrong. You being hurt, and me not being there.”
“I live like that all the time,” you point out. “I watch you walk out into the field and pull risky stunts and get yourself shot constantly.”
“It’s different,” he starts. “I can heal. And you know where I am. I always, always tell you. The not knowing—” He swallows roughly. “That kills me.”
“That’s fair,” you allow. “I should have told you. I’m sorry. I knew that you would freak out, and it would distract you on your mission, and I didn’t want you to get hurt. So I chose not to tell you, and that made everything worse. I won’t do that again. I promise.”
“You won’t go on another mission?”
“That is not what I said,” you say. “I am not going to sit back. Not on this.”
“The rest of us have it handled,” Adrian insists.
“You aren’t listening to me,” you say sharply. “Adrian, I am not just…a prize you get for doing a good job. I’m not going to stay here shrouded in bubble wrap while the rest of you fight. If I am needed out in the field—and I am needed out in the field, at least until Fleury gets back on his feet—I will go. I want to, and I deserve to, fight for our future and the future of our pack just like you do.”
Adrian is quiet for a moment as he soaks in your words.
“You do deserve to fight,” he says. “But I also need you to tell me when you do. The not knowing…I can’t live like that.”
“You’re right,” you admit. “When I’m out on a mission—I won’t keep it from you. You’ll know where I am. I’ll text you updates, the same way that you text me while you’re gone. I’m sorry, baby. I was trying to keep you from worrying, and I just made everything worse. I promise I won’t do that again, okay?”
“Okay.” Adrian swallows. He’s already apologized, but—he needs to say it again. “I’m sorry, too. For freaking out. For yelling at you. For commanding you last night. I never wanted—I never wanted to be like my brother, and here I am being—”
You sigh. “You’re not like Gut, Adrian. You’re not. I know you’re not. You did something hurtful to me last night, and I just—lashed out. I said something hurtful because I knew it would hurt you. You’re a good man, and a good Alpha. I just need you to…loosen up, a little bit.”
“Okay,” he whispers.
“Are we okay?” you check, and Adrian hates how hesitant you sound.
“We’re okay,” he says softly. “We’re more than okay. I love you.”
Your hand comes up to his face, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck, and you tilt your chin up. He takes the invitation, leaning down to kiss you, deep and thorough, roughly hauling you up into his arms. Your legs wrapping around his waist. He’s hard, pressing insistently against your center as he speed-walks to the bedroom and shoves you down onto the bed.
Adrian strips off your clothes and touches every inch of skin he can reach, silently reassuring himself that you’re here with him, that you aren’t hurt. Then he rips his own clothes off and chucks them aside, wearing an expression you’ve never seen before. Some complex mix of desire and fury. But still, when he grabs at your hips and pulls you against him, he waits. You nod, but he shakes his head.
“Words, Omega,” he says, voice rough. “Because I’m not in the mood to play nice right now.”
The tip of his cock drags through your wetness, and you lift your hips until he notches at your entrance.
“Fuck me,” you say. “Do it. I can take it, I can—”
Adrian shoves inside you in a rough thrust, manhandling you in a way he never has before. You gasp at the sudden intrusion and clutch at the bedsheets, as he rails into you, deep, erratic thrusts that light your nerves on fire and have him grunting like an animal.
You touch him right back, but it’s not the soft touch he’s used to. It’s your nails dragging down his back, it’s you biting at his lips, it’s your fingers gripping him so hard that he thinks you might actually leave a bruise that lasts, for once. It feels like you’re still fighting him, here in your bed, even as your legs wrap around his waist and drag him in deeper.
“Never again,” he grunts, eyes watery and red. “You are never fucking doing that to me again, do you hear me?”
Every touch makes him feel desperate. He’s never loved anyone or anything the way he loves you, he thinks, as you find your release and your head tilts back. His eyes land on your neck, on your mating mark, and he can’t help himself. As he comes, his teeth sink in, break the skin all over again, because some Alpha part of him needs to remind you who you fucking belong to.
You’d made him a promise, today. That you wouldn’t go on a mission without telling him again. He’s just grateful you didn’t ask him to make any promises in return.
Because if you did, he’s not sure he’d be able to keep them. And he thinks you can tell.
Things between you and Adrian still feel raw when you return to work on Monday. Adrian is itching to reach for your hand to hold, but…you didn’t let him open the car door for you like he usually does. You just got out and started walking.
You might have apologized to each other, you might have tried to fuck it out of your systems, but the underlying tension that caused the whole blowup argument is still there, simmering, volatile, just beneath the surface of your every interaction.
It doesn’t help that everyone stares at the two of you as you walk in the door.
“Fleury,” you say, when you see him seated at his desk. “What the hell are you doing here? You got shot a couple days ago.”
“Last time you got shot, you and Adrian had a midnight rendezvous in the middle of his first rut,” Fleury retorts. “I think I’ll survive sitting at my desk for a bit.”
“Hmph,” you mutter. “Come on. My office. Let me look you over, at least.”
“Good thing he’s in a rolling chair, huh?” Ads says brightly, trying desperately to erase the tense atmosphere that followed you and Adrian like a stormy cloud. She starts pushing Fleury in the direction of the infirmary.
Adrian watches you walk away, pressing his lips together in a thin line.
Chris walks up to him, a little wary. “Hey man. All good?”
“All good,” Adrian lies, entirely unconvincing.
“I’m sorry,” Emilia says, right behind Chris. “I knew it was a bad idea before we even left, but—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Adrian grits out. Emilia nods.
“Okay. I understand. But just so you know…she did a great job. Remembered all her training. I don’t know if she told you, but she’s the one who got the kill shot. Right to the head, from a dozen yards away.”
Adrian swallows. You hadn’t mentioned that. He’d known that you were practicing, putting in your time in the weapons room, sparring with Emilia and Rip. It settles him a little bit, hearing from Emilia, perhaps the most capable agent in the pack, that you’d done well. Maybe you would have told him yourself, if he hadn’t freaked out. He imagines it—you coming home, wide and smiling, excited to tell him about your killshot, wanting him to be proud of you. And he is proud. He’s proud, and he loves you, and he—he can’t live without you. That’s what it comes down to.
He’s proud of you, but—how could he ever tell you that? If he did, you’d take it as an open invitation. To go on more missions. And that’s the last thing he wants.
He’ll go out and kill bad guys any day without blinking, but when it comes to you doing the same thing—it makes him afraid. He’s a fucking coward when it comes to you.
“Okay,” is all he says, when he realizes Chris and Emilia are waiting for him to respond. “Thank you. For looking after her.”
“Always,” Emilia nods. “That’s what Alphas do. We protect our pack members.”
“You know,” Chris starts, but he’s interrupted by the door to the conference room slamming open. John stumbles out, his laptop in one hand, an empty Redbull can in the other. There are dark circles under his eyes, and it looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.
“Jesus, Economos, you look like shit,” Emilia says.
“I’ve managed to hack my way into every file that was on Dev’s computer,” John says, eyes wide and wild. “And I did it. I found an address.”
“An address?” Chris repeats. “You don’t mean—the address? Sullivan’s headquarters?”
“Fuck yeah, that’s exactly the address I mean,” John says.
Adrian’s heart starts thundering. Finally, he thinks desperately. Finally, I can do something about these assholes once and for all, and you’ll be safe, everyone will be safe.
You, Ads, and Fleury filter back into the room.
“What’s going on?” Ads asks, looking between everyone.
“John found an address!” Chris says.
“What? Where?” Ads cries.
“It’s taken me a while to get through the cloud drive. Leon is the owner of this file. It’s just shared with Dev. His personal document security is fucking shit. I can’t believe none of them have called him on this. It’s sloppy, it’s lazy—”
“Get to the point, John,” Emilia demands. “Where are they?”
“Sorry, did you spend several weeks glued to a computer? Let me have my fucking dramatic reveal, Harcourt! I deserve that much!”
“We don’t have time for drama right now! Spill!”
“Star City,” John says. “You know that asshole Green Lantern?”
“I met him once. Dresses like he’s Robin Hood at a Renaissance Faire. Fucking nerd,” Chris says.
“You’ve been to a Renaissance Faire?” Fleury raises an eyebrow.
“Adrian made me go!”
“Everybody fucking focus!”
The entire room falls quiet and stares at Adrian. Because he has never been the one to ask everyone to focus. In fact, he’s usually the one fucking around so much he gets yelled at. But now, he takes a deep, shaky breath, looks directly at John, and says, “Explain. Star City. Where in Star City? How big is the building? Do they live there, or just work there? What—”
A hand settles on his arm, squeezing softly. Adrian stops and looks at you. His heart feels like it’s climbing up his throat just so he can puke it out onto the floor, but the churning inside him stops when your hand trails down his arm to entwine your fingers. It’s the first time you’ve touched him like this, soft and gentle, since you argued.
“It’s okay,” you say quietly. “We have time. We can make a plan. When Sasha and Rip get back from their mission, we can all go. Together.”
For the first time ever, the word grates on his nerves. Together.
The plan is simple.
“We’ll do some quick recon,” Ads says. “We send out two people to observe for a day. Make note of their routines, the weak points in their security. And then we go back with the entire team and ambush them, the same way they fucking ambushed us.”
You’re listening carefully, eyes bright and glittering. Adrian knows exactly what has you so enraptured. The entire team, Chris says.
Adrian grinds his teeth. There’s no way he can talk you into sitting this one out.
“Who are we sending?” John asks. “For the recon?”
“Me and Chris,” Emilia says.
“Recon work is not my speciality,” Chris frowns. “Judomaster would be the best choice. We can just wait for him and Bordeaux to get back in three days, and he can go with you.”
Emilia tries not to show it, but she’s pissy. Adrian would snort if he was in the mood to be amused right now. She’s feeling just as impatient as he is, apparently.
But surprisingly, she doesn’t fight Chris on it.
“Fine,” she says. She glances around the room at everyone. Her eyes meet Adrian’s, and his brow furrows. “We’ll wait.”
“No,” Adrian says suddenly. He stares daggers at Chris. “Aren’t we supposed to protect the pack? You told me—that night when I wanted to kill my fucking douchebag brother. You told me to funnel my energy toward this instead. To protect us from the big threats. The big threat is here, and we finally know where we have to go to take care of it. We should not be waiting. Even if all we do is eliminate Leon Sullivan—we’ll leave the rest of his team scrambling, without a leader.”
“They’re not a pack, like we are,” Chris says. “This isn’t a cut-the-head-off-the-monster situation. They don’t need to run off and find another Alpha and reorganize. They’re all lone wolves. The only option is to take them out all at once, or keep picking them off like we have been.”
Adrian stews silently, but doesn’t argue further.
“For now, we can start prepping. Get together the weapons and ammo we’ll need,” Chris continues. “We’ll make sure we’re twice as armed as we usually are, just in case. We can check on our weapons and ammo stock? Put in a rush order on anything that’s damaged, or that we’re running low on?”
“Good idea,” you say.
“I’ll try to see if I can find a floor plan of the building,” John says. “It looks from the outside like a warehouse. If it was ever listed on a real estate site, we can get a good idea of what it looks like on the inside, too.”
“Then everyone can head home and get some rest,” Ads says. “It’s been a long couple of weeks. I want everyone on top of their game before we head out to Star City. We can’t afford to make any mistakes.”
Adrian looks at you. You’re already watching him.
“We can do this,” you assure him with a smile.
“I know we can,” he says. He tries to smile back. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Everyone heads their separate ways after the meeting. You head off to the infirmary to pack med kits for everyone. Emilia, Ads, and John work on sketching out a layout of the building. Chris starts heading to the weapons room, and Adrian, on autopilot, just follows his best friend, his mind reeling.
He keeps turning the address over in his mind. The names and faces of the enemy.
He keeps thinking of the way Emilia looked at him. We’ll wait, she’d said.
Adrian doesn’t want to wait. He wants to go now.
Who’s going to stop him?
He watches Chris start boxing up weapons to bring to the van, and he starts doing the same. As he works, he tucks a few extra guns and grenades into his own bag, right next to his Vigilante suit.
“You’re quiet,” Chris comments. Adrian just hums noncommittally. “Adrian. Look at me.”
Adrian glances up and meets his best friend’s eyes.
“I don’t know what fucked-up shit is going on inside your head right now,” Chris says. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and your Omega, or what. But whatever rash, dangerous shit you’re thinking about doing, drop it. Now. We have a plan. Stick to the plan.”
“I will,” Adrian says. The words taste bitter.
In the months since he’s become an Alpha, Adrian has always kept his initial promise to Chris and Emilia. Never disobeyed his pack leaders. He doesn’t want to be pack Alpha, he just wants to be your Alpha.
But right now—he doesn’t want to fucking listen to Chris’s advice or orders from the others. He can’t. There’s something inside him that won’t let him stand by right now. He can’t explain it, but he needs to act.
When you both go home that night, you can feel the anxious tension radiating from him as he sits stiffly in the driver’s seat of the Vigilante-mobile, as he robotically eats his dinner without really tasting anything, as he stares mindlessly at the television and doesn’t absorb a single bit of information.
“Why don’t we just go to bed?” you suggest, when you see him zoning out for the tenth time in half an hour. Adrian just silently nods, still pensive, still thinking.
He watches you go through the motions of your nighttime routine with escalating anxiety. He lets you shave his face, as has become your routine, a soft little shared moment that he always treasures. He feels your soft hands on his face, and your lips on his cheek when you kiss him, and he closes his eyes and makes his decision.
As you shuffle into bed, he stands on his side and just watches you get comfortable. You look up at him, confused.
“Come on,” you say, patting the empty space beside you. It’s an inviting sight. One that is so fucking hard for him to resist, but—
“I don’t think I can sleep,” he says. “I think—maybe I’ll go on patrol. Burn off some energy. Is that okay?”
Your face softens into a smile. A concerned smile, with your brow furrowing just a little between your eyes, but a smile nonetheless, which makes his heart clench. “Of course that’s okay, Ade. If that will make you feel better, of course.”
“I think it will.”
“Do you want me to come?” you ask.
“No, that’s—no,” he says, shaking his head. “Go to sleep, I don’t want to be the reason you’re up late. You’ve been so tired. I saw you yawn like a billion times today.”
You’ve been exhausted, it’s true. Trying to take care of everyone, manage everyone’s emotions. You chew on the inside of your cheek worriedly. You usually like being awake for Adrian when he gets home, to nurse any wounds from his patrols, no matter how insignificant. But he sees the moment you give in.
“Okay,” you say, and Adrian feels a sick, guilty sense of relief wash over him. “You promise you’ll wake me when you get back? Let me look you over?”
You don’t suspect a thing, and that makes him feel a thousand times worse. You trust him so fucking much, and he doesn’t deserve it. Because he’s lying to your face right now. He wants to throw up. But he swallows it down, all those terrible feelings, all the guilt and the lies, and says—
“I will wake you when I get back.”
You watch him change into the Vigilante suit, and he gives you one last wobbly smile before he walks out the door. Then he bends down to kiss you, long and hard and deep.
“I love you, Omega. So fucking much.”
“I love you too, Alpha,” you whisper. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Adrian can’t bring himself to say anything in return.
Then goes on a quick patrol. Kills a graffiti artist. It makes him feel better. A little less like he’s lying to you, at least, because he did go on patrol.
Warning: smut MDNI, consensual voyeurism, stalker Vigilante, sextoys, knife play, cheating, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, breeding kink.
Dividers are from @strangergraphics
Thank you @shadowskribe for the edits 🫶
You can find all my other works HERE.
Summary: During another lonely night without your husband, you find a way to distract yourself and entertain your favorite stalker.
You hate the nights in Evergreen, the dull city lights, the way car headlights are deformed in big strokes of red. You hate how the humidity creeps into the air the moment the sun slips below the horizon, wrapping itself around everything like a damp blanket, while thick banks of fog gather above the asphalt and linger there for hours. At least tonight, it is not cold enough to freeze lawns and windows. Small mercies. Still, every evening in Evergreen feels the same, lonely, cold and tedious, as though the town itself has surrendered to boredom and expects everyone living in it to do the same.
Your apartment becomes unbearable the second your husband leaves for work each night. The silence settles in immediately, turning every room into a reminder that you are alone, every corner seems to emphasize how little there is to do. A boring apartment in a boring city filled with boring people. You want to go out and see your friends, but the ones who aren't working never seem interested in spending a weekday getting drunk enough to forget where they are. They have responsibilities, schedules and reasons to stay home. Boring reasons. Boring friends. Unappealing streets. Ghost town.
And tonight, more than ever, you are furious. Because you need company. You need someone willing to listen while you complain about everything and nothing. You feel like a black hole collapsing on itself and part of you wants to swallow this entire miserable town just to make the emptiness feel justified. Because underneath the anger is something worse: a hollow ache that refuses to go away. You feel empty, a void demanding to be filled. Poetic and pathetic. You wonder if you could actually sue your husband for neglecting his marital duties. Maybe there is some obscure legal precedent buried somewhere. You'll have to look it up later.
For now, you have a different ritual to follow. The private shows started a few months ago. You had grown jaded from the routine of your life, tired of feeling neglected, tired of pretending the persistent ache in your belly would eventually disappear on its own. It never did, so you found your own way to distract yourself, your own way to make the long nights pass a little faster. First, you put together a playlist composed entirely of the sluttiest pop songs you can find from twenty years ago, songs dripping with nostalgia and bad decisions. Second, you slip into the tiny nightgown you bought last week, the one that barely qualifies as clothing and somehow makes you feel better every time you wear it.
Waiting has become part of the ritual. You moved to the window. Across the street, every house has its curtains drawn, tv screens flickered behind closed blinds, ordinary people living ordinary lives, already asleep or pretending to be. Your gaze drifted further down the block until it settled on the roof in front of your apartment where the streetlights reflected in his red visor. Right on schedule.
A faint smile pulls at the corner of your mouth, whatever could be said about him, he was consistent. The first time you noticed him had been an accident. A brief glance through your own window during another sleepless night while your husband worked. But there he was, perched on the roof of the building across the street sitting with his legs dangling over the edge and swinging idly beneath him like a kid. Neither of you waved but you found other ways to acknowledge the other. Maybe seeing you humping your pillow was the highlight of his nights. He obviously liked your little ‘shows’, you could guess it by looking at the shape of his body outlined in the dark, his elbow moving at the same rhythm of your hips.
Tonight, humping your pillow is never going to be enough to quiet the restless frustration inside you, not when the emptiness has been building for days and every attempt to distract yourself has only made it more impossible to ignore. You are already kneeling on your bed, one hand disappearing beneath the waistband of your panties, the movements of your fingers slow and deliberate around your clit as you spread your knees just a little farther apart, making absolutely certain there can be no misunderstanding about what you are doing for the man watching from the other side of the patio door.
After several long, increasingly frustrating minutes, you abandon the last pretense of restraint and push your panties down, impatient with the fabric that keeps getting in the way, leaving nothing to hinder your touch as your fingers move more freely in and out of you. Your other hand wanders over your body, lingering against the soft satin of your chemise as the thin material wrinkles beneath your squeezing grip around your breasts. Your breathing grows heavier while your gaze remains fixed on the figure outside, silently daring him to keep watching.
But it still wasn't enough, you were increasingly desperate for the release that always seemed just beyond your reach. With an impatient sigh, you slowly withdrew your fingers from your warmth before leaning over the edge of the bed, pulling open the drawer of your nightstand. Inside, an assortment of sextoys lay neatly arranged. Your gaze drifted over them only briefly before settling on your favorite without hesitation, vibrant blue, smooth as silk beneath your fingertips and perfectly curved.
You wrapped your fingers around it before returning to the center of the bed, your movements patient now despite the urgency burning inside you. Carefully positioning yourself, you lowered your body with deliberate slowness, allowing yourself to adjust little by little, inch after inch. The work of your fingers earlier had done little to prepare you and you couldn't help noticing the tension in your body as the fullness forced you to pause more than once, the initial discomfort gradually giving way to a deeper, more satisfying sensation as your muscles slowly relaxed around it.
For the briefest of moments, a reckless thought crossed your mind, and you found yourself wondering whether he could hear the moans slipping past your lips from where he sat, despite the distance between you, despite the thick pane of glass separating your worlds, and despite the music loud enough to swallow every other sound. Part of you desperately hoped he couldn't but another, far more desperate part of you wished the opposite, wished the silence between you could somehow be broken.
You slowly lifted your head in a half-hearted attempt to meet his gaze through the crimson-tinted visor that concealed his gaze, knowing full well you had no chance of seeing his eyes and yet unable to resist pretending otherwise. It was only then, as your attention finally settled on the rooftop where he had been sitting only moments before, that you realized something was different tonight. The silhouette was gone.
A faint crease formed between your brows as you instinctively searched the roof again, wondering if you had lost sight of him in the darkness, but there was nothing there except the empty edge of the building. Your confusion lasted only a heartbeat before a movement below caught your eye, drawing your attention toward the street to see the familiar figure step onto the sidewalk and begin walking with confidence in your direction. He disappeared between the neighboring buildings, leaving you staring into the fog with your heart hammering against your ribcage.
You barely had time to wonder where he had gone. A metallic clang echoed somewhere below, followed by the faint groan of old steel under shifting weight. Your balcony overlooked the building's fire escape, a rusted maze of platforms and ladders that no tenant ever bothered to use. Tonight, however, someone was climbing it. Your breath caught as a gloved hand appeared over the railing, followed by the unmistakable silhouette of Vigilante hauling himself effortlessly onto your balcony. He landed without a stumble, straightened to his full height, and turned toward the apartment as though scaling three stories had required no effort.
The absurdly cheerful music continued to pulse through the apartment when he reached for the handle and slowly slid the patio door open. Cold air spilled into the room and goosebumps appeared on the skin of your thighs.
"So." His voice carried a hint of amusement. "We've been pretending not to notice each other for weeks."
He rested one gloved hand against the doorframe, making no immediate move to step inside, his masked head tilting ever so slightly before finally settling his attention on you.
"Technically, what you're doing isn't illegal. I checked." He paused. "I mean... not just now. I didn't stop halfway up the fire escape to google it or anything. I already knew."
He simply kept talking with all the confidence of a man delivering a lecture in a courtroom rather than standing in the middle of your bedroom. The sheer absurdity of it left you speechless because he spoke with such seriousness that it almost seemed he had somehow chosen to ignore the fact that a dildo was still buried to the hilt inside you.
"But the music?" He pointed a finger toward the speakers. "That's another story. I'm not saying excessive enthusiasm for early-2000s pop is a crime..." He said, raising a finger like he was quoting an actual statute. "Because legally speaking, it isn't."
He leaned just enough for the red visor to catch the light.
"But I am saying that if I lived next door, I'd probably be drafting a strongly worded letter to the homeowners association. Or starting a petition. Actually, no, petitions are for cowards."
He folded his arms across his chest. "I'm just saying your neighbors almost certainly hate Nelly Furtado now. And by extension… they might hate you."
He let that sink in with all the gravity of someone announcing a homicide investigation. "That's how neighborhood feuds starts." He shrugged. "First it's Promiscuous at full volume on a Tuesday night." He pointed vaguely toward the street. "Then six months later someone's keying your car. It escalates."
His mouth was invisible beneath the mask but somehow you could hear the grin in his voice. "So I'm here as a concerned citizen. A judgmental one."
Even though you had gone perfectly still the moment he stepped through the patio door, your body hadn't yet recovered from the frantic bouncing of your hips and your chest rose and falled with every shallow breath you struggled to steady. You remained dumbfounded, your mind scrambling to make sense of the surreal conversation unfolding in front of you. Your eyes drifted over him and, despite the thickness of his suit and the armor covering most of his body, there was one detail impossible to overlook, his very visible erection shattered whatever illusion of composure he had been trying to maintain and made the situation somehow even more ridiculous.
Against your better judgment, you decided the only sensible response was to tease him “And what are you going to do Vigilante?” Your breathing was uneven, the adrenaline coursing through your body. “Are you going to call the cops? Are you going to kill me?”
“I’m not going to call the cops. Duh… These guys are lame.” You could see the exaggerated roll of his eyes toward the ceiling, as though the very suggestion had personally offended him.
"So what are you waiting for?" You continued. "To pull out that big knife of yours and finally make me shut up?" You arched a knowing eyebrow as your gaze dipped toward his crotch.
Without a word, he reached over his shoulder and unsheathed the sword strapped across his back in one smooth motion, lifting its tip beneath your chin with precision. "It's not a knife." He corrected. "It's a Honshu war sword. That's... pff... that's totally different."
Then, he caught the innuendo. You could almost hear the gears grinding inside his head as the meaning of your words finally caught up with him. “Oh.” He mumbled, lowering the blade before sliding it back into its sheath with far less confidence than he had drawn it. "Not… Not that kind of weapon."
The slight stutter creeping into his voice was adorable. His now-empty hand rose to replace the sword beneath your chin, the touch surprisingly gentle as he closed the remaining distance between you.
His gloved fingers tightened ever so slightly beneath your chin, firmly refusing to let you look away as you opened the fly of his pants.
"Hey" He said quietly. "Look at me. Are you sure? I mean, there's a pretty huge difference between putting on a show for some weird guy sitting on a rooftop and..." He made an awkward, circular gesture with his other hand, as though hoping the rest of the sentence might somehow assemble itself. "...and crossing a line you can't uncross."
"My husband leaves for work every single night." You spat, the words escaping with sharp bitterness. "He's an idiot."
You freed him from the confines of his pants and boxers, your movements unhurried despite the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat. As the fabric fell away you caught the reflection of the rounded outline of his ass in the glass of the patio door. For a brief moment, the reflection felt strangely surreal, as though you were watching complete strangers standing there instead of yourself.
Slipping off the bed and leaving the sextoy aside, you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him. Almost experimentally, you let a single finger travel from the tip all the way to the base of his cock before tracing the same path upward again. The subtle caress drew an immediate reaction from him, his body giving a sharp, involuntary jolt that he made no effort to hide.
Encouraged by the response, you leaned in closer until your lips brushed against him, taking your time as you began with teasing movements, your tongue tracing deliberate circles. Every measured motion seemed to chip away at the composure he had been clinging to since climbing onto your balcony, replacing his awkward confidence with increasingly ragged breaths.
His eyes drifted shut beneath the visor, his chest rising and falling more heavily with each passing second. His hips lifted almost imperceptibly toward you before he seemed to catch himself, while his gloved hand found its way into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands and tightening reflexively against your scalp, searching for something to ground himself.
The sounds that escaped him were loud and unguarded. For all his attempts to remain self-assured, the facade crumbled in an instant.
"Fuck..." He admitted between shaky breaths, his voice cracking. "You're so hot."
You slowly took him deeper, giving yourself a moment to adjust your throat. Every subtle shift was careful, your focus entirely on maintaining the steady rhythm you had chosen. The moan he let out when your nose slightly touched the hairs at the base of his cock was sinful.
A startled gasp escaped you as he abruptly pulled you back, breaking the rhythm you had settled into and leaving you momentarily breathless from the sudden change. Before you could fully regain your breath, his gloved hand slipped firmly into your hair, gathering it at the back of your head with a possessive grip, holding you in place as he began thrusting deeper into your mouth. His hips continued to drive forward in an unrelenting rhythm, every movement more forceful than the last as he fucked your throat.
Only when he could no longer hold himself together did he finally draw back, the sudden absence of pressure made you instinctively inhale too quickly and you doubled over as a series of sharp gasps escaped your lip.
"Hey… I'm not... being too rough, am I?"
You looked up at him, still catching your breath, and gave a small shake of your head. "No."
"You'd tell me if I was?"
A faint smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. "I like it."
He encouraged you to your feet before guiding you backward toward the bed, never once taking his eyes off you, and as you settled onto the mattress he followed, his frame enveloping yours until there was barely any space left between you. He nestled his masked face into the crook of your neck, his restless energy replaced by an almost startling tenderness.
"This is a really beautiful nightgown you're wearing." He murmured. "I'll... uh... I'll try not to damage it."
His attention shifted to your body as he carefully adjusted your position, bending your legs before lifting them until they rested comfortably over his padded shoulders and his hands settled against your thighs. He pushed himself into you, dragging his cock inside you inch by inch.
He didn't rush, setting an almost torturous pace, advancing little by little, savoring every passing second. Your fingers instinctively tightened around the sheets beneath you while your back arched. His jaw tightened beneath the mask and his fingers flexed against your thighs with enough force to mark your skin.
The careful rhythm gradually gave away to something faster, more instinctive, your hips rolling against his. The room filled with moans and gasps, the rhythmic creak of the bed and the muffled sounds of the fabric of his suit, while the music that had once dominated the apartment faded into little more than distant background noise. You weren’t even able to say if it was a Britney or a Rihanna song anymore.
Each time he found the same angle again, another involuntary moan escaped you. His gaze lingered on the rise and fall of your chest before drifting upward to your face, studying every involuntary reaction with complete fascination.
Then his head tipped forward between your tits, folding you impossibly in two, your ankles to his ears, knees almost touching your shoulders. You will surely have burns from his kevlar suit behind your thighs.
"You want me to finish in this pretty pussy of yours?" He murmured, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths before a manic laugh escaped him. "What would your husband think about that?"
"He'll never know." You whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek with tenderness. "It'll be our secret."
A crooked grin spread beneath the mask, obvious even if you couldn't see it. "Hell yeah." He muttered, his voice slipping back into his bizarre enthusiasm. "Gonna put a baby in you."
"We're gonna call him..." He paused, clearly thinking far too hard about it. "...Minilante." He gave himself an entirely self-satisfied nod. "Yeah. Perfect."
With one particularly forceful movement, your head tipped back with abandon, your entire body surrendering to the overwhelming intensity of the moment as his name escaped your lips in a breathless cry, your climax making your back arch and your legs tremble.
He was impossibly deep, filling you so completely, every movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through you from head to toes, your warmth enveloping him, clenching around his grith. He withdrew almost entirely, leaving only the tip inside your entrance before pressing forward one last time. You felt his length throbbing, spending his release into you in thick, hot ropes and he whined your name while his arms tightened around your waist.
The two of you remained tangled together on your bed. Vigilante laid close beside you, one gloved hand resting absentmindedly against your belly, his palm lingering there with tenderness, almost directly above your womb.
"Do you feel better?" He asked, his voice stripped of its manic energy.
"Undoubtedly." You answered without hesitation, the corners of your mouth lifting into a lazy smile.
"You're still capable of putting together a word with more than three syllables, so... allow me to remain skeptical."
An enormous yawn escaped you before you had any chance of hiding it, your eyes watering slightly as exhaustion finally caught up with you.
"There it is." He said with satisfaction.
You laughed softly.
"What about tomorrow?" He continued, sounding suddenly enthusiastic again. "We'll spend the evening together. You'll wear that teal dress in your closet, you know, the really pretty one, and we'll go out somewhere nice. We'll find some cozy little restaurant and pretend we're respectable adults."
You turned your head toward him with an amused smile. "Ok. But not Fennel Fields."
"Alright, alright." He conceded, raising both hands in theatrical surrender. "I'll find somewhere else. No succulent mozza sticks for you."
He reached up and carefully lifted the lower half of his mask just enough to expose his jaw and mouth. "You are tired." He murmured. "You should get some sleep."
His gloved hand slipped beneath your head with gentleness, carefully adjusting the pillow before his fingers combed through your hair in reassuring strokes. Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss against your temple before resting his forehead lightly against yours.
"Goodnight Vigilante."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his exposed mouth. "Goodnight Mrs. Chase."
@e0wens and @shadowskribe I feel like you guys will appreciate this text exchange as further proof that Freddie is a shapeshifter because my girl Laura gets spammed with my stickers every day😂😂😂
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