synopsis: Reader crochets Adrian a mini Vigilante <3
tags/warnings: no warnings this is literally just #fluff based on a request but it got out of hand and I thought it deserved its own post
word count: 0.8k
Thank you @embeanwrites for the edits and @snowyathena for the title suggestions <3
Masterlist
“I have something for you,” you say bright and early one morning at work, and Adrian spins around in his desk chair.
“For me?” he says, pointing at himself. “Is it a dossier? Do we have a new mission?”
You feel a little shy, but you hold out the wrapped package, and Adrian’s eyes light up.
“A present?” he exclaims. “It’s not my birthday! Or Christmas! Or Halloween! Not that that’s even a gift-giving holiday, unless you’re giving me candy, but you do that all the time and you don’t present it to me all specially like this—”
“It’s a ‘just-because’ present,” you interrupt, tapping your foot impatiently. “Now open it or I’m going to take it back.”
“No take-backsies!” Adrian declares, snatching the package from your hands eagerly. He wastes no more time ripping into the paper, and you laugh at how impatient he is. There is no savoring the moment with Adrian.
“I made it,” you say quietly when the gift reveals itself—a palm-sized amigurumi Vigilante, holding a tiny chainsaw. “After you finally got your chainsaw kill last week.”
Adrian’s jaw drops, and he lets the wrapping paper fall to the floor.
“Oh my god, it’s me,” he says, awed, his eyes wide behind his glasses. “It’s a tiny me. You made this?”
“I crochet,” you remind him. “In my spare time, at home.”
“I know that,” Adrian says, his brow furrowed. “You made me my winter hat and mittens. The teal ones, they’re my favorite. They’re really soft and they fit me perfect and I’m pretty sure I say thank you every time I wear them which is like, every fucking day.”
“Right,” you say. You clear your throat. You have to admit, your motives were slightly selfish when you made Adrian that beanie. He looks so fucking good in a hat, his curls sticking out at the bottom, and god, his messy hat hair when he pulls it off makes you want to melt into a puddle.
“But I had no idea you could do stuff like this,” Adrian continues. “This is cool as fuck!”
“It’s just a silly hobby, but I thought you would like it—”
“I love it,” Adrian cries, cradling the tiny yarn creation like it’s something precious and not something you whipped up in a few hours while binge-watching television in old, stained pajamas.
“You love what?” Chris interrupts, poking his head over the divider that separates his desk from Adrian’s. A much-needed addition that (kind-of) keeps Adrian from talking his ear off all day. Adebayo pokes her head over, too, to see what the commotion is about.
“Look at this!” Adrian says, holding up the tiny Vigilante so his friends can see it. “This is—the best gift I’ve ever gotten in my whole life!”
“Aw,” Ads says. “That’s adorable. You made that?”
“I did,” you say, a little embarrassed that Adrian is drawing so much attention to it. You should have anticipated this.
“Hey,” Chris says, offended. “The best gift you’ve ever gotten in your whole life? What about that sick ass vintage gun I gave you for your birthday a couple years ago?”
“This is better,” Adrian says. “It’s literally a tiny me. With a chainsaw. To commemorate the best day of my life, when I finally got—”
“—to kill someone with a chainsaw, yeah, we know,” Emilia says as she passes by on her way to the break room for a coffee.
“Just remember I did it first!” John calls across the office, a little smug.
Adrian pouts. “Yeah, well, you don’t have a tiny yarn Economos, so who is more special?” he grumbles.
“You are,” you say quietly, so only Adrian can hear. “To me.”
He fiddles with the tiny figure in his hands and looks up at you with a small smile.
“Thank you,” he says, and now it’s his turn to be a little shy. He clutches the mini Vigilante in his fist as he stares at your hand, like he wishes he was holding it instead.
“Do you think you could make it into a keychain for me?” he asks. “So I can take him everywhere I go?” Then he pauses and frowns. “No, I shouldn’t do that. He would get dirty and worn out. I should keep him somewhere special where no one is ever allowed to touch him and he will remain in pristine condition forever—”
“You could get one of those cases,” Ads suggests. “That people keep their Labubus in. I think they make ones you can clip to your bag.”
“Yes!” Adrian says. He immediately opens a new browser window and starts searching.
“What the fuck is a Labubu?” asks Chris. He squints, looking a little closer at the amigurumi Vigilante. “That is pretty cool, that you made that. Hey…do you think you could make me one of Eagly?”
AN: Its been a minute since I've written a freaky little one shot. 🤭 Its a little different than my usual, but I thought this was so Adrian. My Adrian Chase Masterlist
“Babe, are you okay? Is it period cramps?” Adrian sets the bags of groceries he's brought in from the car down.
You're currently snuggled around a fluffy comforter and groan miserably into your pillow from your post on the couch. You've got Scream queued up and ready for movie night with Adrian, but in the short time he was gone to get movie snacks, your cramps have intensified to whimper inducing levels.
You nod. “It feels like I'm being stabbed with an ice pick.” And not even by a hot psycho in a ghost face mask.
“Theyre that bad? Usually they ease up by now. You're supposed to start in like two days!” He rushes over, pushing his glasses up.
You wince when another wave of cramps assaults you.
“How… how the hell do you know my cycle so well?”
He beams a smile. “Because I track it, silly.”
Whatever, you really aren't surprised, Adrian has always taken his boyfriend duties very seriously, so you should have anticipated this conversation to happen at some point.
“I took some pain tablets but they haven't kicked in yet.” You groan miserably.
Swallowing hard, Adrian catches your gaze.
“I can help.”
“How? I'm already on a heating pad.” You grumble. “Let's just watch the movie.”
Moments later you're both watching the movie, your head resting on Adrian's lap, your shirt pulled up to the bottom of your bra. His warm hands smooth over your lower abdomen, gently massaging your pain into submission. He grins down at you when you shutter your eyes and sigh.
“Feel better?”
You blink up at him. “A little.” You still feel all swollen and wince when a sharp pain sears your belly. “Ughhhh… that was a bad one.”
He frowns in thought. “Should I apply more pressure? What about a bubble bath?”
You shake your head. He's trying so hard and looking down at you with those sweet puppy eyes. “A kiss may help.”
His green eyes search yours as he leans down and kisses you sweetly.
"You know, there is something else I can do that will help with your cramps.” He says when he pulls back from your lips.
He's got that look, the one where he's about to word vomit everywhere.
“What is it?” You ask, shuttering your eyes in preparation for whatever he may say next.
“Well…. orgasms release endorphins. Endorphins are a natural pain reliever.” He pauses when your eyes pop open. “And arousal increases blood flow to the uterus which is also known to alleviate pain from cramps.”
“Adrian how the fuck do you know all of this?” You try to sit up but he combs your hair back with his fingertips. You relax into his touch and back onto his lap.
“I read it in a women's health magazine at the library.” He smiles, brows furrowed, like you should have known that.
“Of course you did.”
“Anyways… uterine contractions caused by orgasms can also help relieve painful period cramps… you know, in your uterus.”
“Adrian, stop saying uterus.”
“Why? The uterus is a human organ, responsible for all human life on earth. Uteruses… uteri? Whatever - they aren't gross... they should be respected!”
You blink up at him. “Are you trying to tell me you want to fuck me right now?”
He nods, grinning. “Can I? For, like… science. And pain relief.”
You snort a laugh.
“And because your boobs are so fucking big right now…” He smiles hopefully.
“Is this okay, am I hurting you?” Adrian asks as he hovers above you, one bicep straining to hold his weight while his other hand works between your legs. His loose curls fall over his brow when he slides two fingers into you and you sigh, spreading open under him.
“You're so wet.” Glasses sliding down his nose, he looks down the length of your body to watch as his fingers piston in and out of you.
Even though sex was the furthest thing from your mind half an hour ago, now you're panting and ready. Your hands thread into his hair and he dips his face, capturing one of your nipples in his hot wet mouth. He hums and slides his slick fingers out of you to grasp your swollen breast.
“Adrian, if you dont fuck me right now, I swear…”
“Mmmm, mmhm.” He hums, sucking and biting your nipple until you're writhing under him.
His hand returns to pump his cock a few times before sweeping his swollen pre-cum slicked head against you. He gently pushes in, hips pumping in slow and shallow thrusts, gradually moving deeper, until his cock is seated fully inside of you. He lets your reddened nipple go to look down into your eyes and kisses you.
“Aghhh... fuck you feel tighter than usual.” He thrusts deeply. “Fucking… tight pussy strangling my cock…” He hisses and picks up the pace, punching into your swollen pussy faster, rocking you with each thrust.
“How's this… how am I doing? Am I helping?” He asks breathlessly as he pounds into you.
“Adrian. shut. the. fuck. up…” You moan. He grins then slides his arms around you. He pulls your body flush against his as he moves inside of you, his pelvis massaging your swollen belly with each movement.
Panting, he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and biting, and digs his toes into the couch cushions as he pounds himself inside of you.
The coil inside of you is stretching more taught with each cervix kissing thrust Adrian delivers, ready to snap. Any sensation of pain in your body is blessedly gone. Soon your arms and legs are wrapped around him as he slows to a deep grind.
“Ahh, oh fuck…” He pulls out, his cock in his fist, the swollen head blushed red with blood. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. It's… it's just my period." Your nails rake his back, trying to pull him close again. "I'm so close. Are you okay to keep going?” You ask breathlessly.
He grins before pushing himself into you again. “It's just a little blood..."
Lmao roommate Adrian deciding he’s lonely one night and sneaking into your room to slip in next to you. You almost have a heart attack in the morning when you wake up to his curls in your face.
impromptu sleepovers 🥰 and I don’t even think he would get in bed with you at first. he would just. sleep on the floor next to your bed. so you get up in the middle of the night and just trip over him and when you land on top of him, he’s like ??? “what are you doing down here?” and you’re like “what are YOU doing down here???”
then he tells you he was lonely and your fave feels hot because what do you mean, your hot as fuck roommate was lonely and decided that you were the solution to that problem? and he is sleeping on the floor? so you tell him your bed is fair game after that. he’s welcome any time.
he takes advantage of that. (even when you’re not there 😏)
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 🧜♂️
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
summary: adrian arrives to emilia’s halloween party in costume - his vigilante costume. with a little liquid courage and a game of truth or dare, you confess something to your best friend that you’ve been keeping to yourself for a while.
word count: 4.7k+
warnings/tags: 18+ mdni, smut, unprotected p in v, cowgirl, car sex, semi-public sex, friends to lovers, adrian is implied to be demisexual/have sex with people he feels very close to, use of alcohol, slight feelings of jealousy from reader, reader is afab, no use of y/n, more dialogue than i normally write lol, a lot of fluff and sweetness, feel good fix it fic where the 11th street kids are all happy!
author’s note: remember when i said i was going to try to keep the kinktober drabbles under 1.5k words? yeah.
“Do you think he ever wears his Vigilante mask while having sex?”
Emilia nearly chokes on her beer at the question. Economos, who sits directly across from you, mumbles something that sounds like Jesus fucking Christ under his breath as Emilia attempts to regain her composure.
“What on earth makes you ask that?” She laughs, following your gaze to where Adrian is currently talking animatedly with Chris and Ads on the other side of the apartment complex rooftop. Everyone is in costume - with the exception of Economos, who couldn’t be bothered. Even Adrian is technically in costume…his Vigilante costume, that is.
You shrug. “He wears that suit every chance he gets. He’s obviously proud of it. Just something I’ve been wondering about for a while.”
It’s true - you have been curious about it for a while. You just haven’t had the courage to ever say it out loud until now. You blame all of the beer that Adrian had supplied for Emilia’s little rooftop Halloween party. Just a little liquid courage is all it takes for you to verbalize the question that’s been on your mind since…well, pretty much the first time you ever met Adrian.
“I don’t get the impression that Adrian has a lot of sex, to be honest,” Economos says. “And I say that as someone who also does not have a lot of sex.”
Emilia snorts. “I don’t know about that,” she muses. “There was that one time…”
Your gaze snaps away from Adrian and to Emilia. “What? What time?”
She angles her body towards you, lowering her voice. “Chris did tell me about a threesome that he and Vig had with that one witness from when we were hunting the butterflies. I can’t remember her name. Amanda or Amber or something. Said he wore his mask because he didn’t want her to know his identity.”
An unwelcome, unpleasant feeling creeps over you. You take a sip of your beer just to hide the sourness on your face.
You’re aware that you’re not the best at hiding your emotions. Whatever you’re feeling is bound to show itself in your expression. And right now, you can’t help but feel the slightest pinch of jealousy at the thought of Adrian fucking someone - in suit or not.
You blame it on the alcohol in your system. Rationally, you know that Adrian isn’t yours and he can fuck whoever he wants. You’re friends - really good friends, but just friends.
Plus, you barely even knew him back when this threesome must have happened. But still, there’s part of you that can’t help but feel a little jealous.
What can you say? He’s ridiculously cute without the mask, but somehow just as hot with it on.
“What?” Emilia asks with an amused expression when you don’t say anything. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
You glance away from her, trying and failing to seem nonchalant. “I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, your voice a little too high.
“Oh, please,” Economos snorts. “It’s written all over your face.”
Emilia leans in even closer, as if there’s a chance that your friends could hear her from across the rooftop. “Look, if that’s something you’re interested in, all you would need to do is say the word. Adrian didn’t have a threesome with Chris and that woman for the woman. He did it because to him, sex is like… I don’t know, a bonding experience for him and people he’s close to. People he cares about. And he really cares about you. You’re one of his closest friends. I think he’d go along with pretty much anything you wanted.”
You can’t help but smile, your eyes settling on Adrian once again.
She has a point. You wouldn’t say that a random threesome is typical Adrian behavior. Adrian doesn’t go around throwing himself into sexual situations with complete strangers. The jealousy that you were feeling lessens with the realization that he’d only done that for Chris - his best friend, who he would do anything for.
Maybe - after another beer or two - you’ll work up the courage to take her advice.
••••••
Hours later, when you think the party is finally winding down and that everyone is about to find somewhere to pass out in Emilia’s apartment, she says the words that instantly transport you back to high school.
“Gather around, everyone,” she calls loudly enough to get the group’s attention. “Before we call it a night, I think we should play a little game.”
Economos groans, already bracing himself for whatever she’s going to suggest. She hesitates for a second as your other friends take their places around the table where you’re sitting - Chris and Ads on either side of Economos, and Adrian right beside you on the patio loveseat where you’re sitting criss-cross.
“Oooh,” Adrian coos. “Is it a game where you guys take turns quizzing me on spider facts?”
“How is that even a game?” Ads asks flatly.
“I don’t know, but it would be really fun,” Adrian says with genuine enthusiasm. He’d ditched his Vigilante mask a while ago to be able to drink, and from where you sit beside him, you have the perfect view of his tousled curls and sharp jawline.
God. Maybe you wouldn’t want him to keep the mask on, after all. He’s too fucking cute to not look at. And his lips - his plush, pink lips. How would you be able to resist kissing them if you and him were—
The sound of Emilia’s voice calling your name snaps you out of your trance. You blink, cheeks heating as you’re caught mid-stare.
“Huh?”
She smirks, clearly having noticed the way you’d been distracted. “I said, don’t you think truth or dare sounds fun?”
You narrow your eyes at her suspiciously. “Since when are you one for teenage party games?”
“Oh, come on,” she implores. “It’s Halloween. Just a few rounds.”
You purse your lips, giving her a look that says I know what you’re trying to do. “It’s definitely after midnight now, but fine. A few rounds.”
“Great,” she says, clearly satisfied.
She turns towards Chris and you breathe a sigh of relief. You’re safe for the moment, at least. You have a few minutes to contemplate if truth or dare is the less risky choice - though you’re sure she would find a way to use either one as a weapon.
“Alright, Chris. Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” he answers without hesitation.
“Saw that coming from a mile away,” Ads mutters under her breath.
Emilia taps her chin as if in deep thought. “I dare you to tell us what you’re most afraid of.”
“Pass.”
“That’s not how the game works,” she says with a saccharine smile. “You trust us all, right?”
He scowls as the rest of the group stares at him in anticipation. “Fine,” he huffs. Then, his expression softens and he looks down at the ground. “I’m most afraid of Eagly dying. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s my best friend and I can’t bear the thought of losing him.”
Everyone is silent for a moment, surprised by the honesty and emotion in Chris’s answer. Then, trying his hardest to lighten the mood, Adrian pipes up.
“You know, I’ve been reading up on eagle facts lately. Did you know that in captivity, they can live upwards of forty years? So, there’s a good chance you could die before Eagly.”
Another beat of silence, broken by Economos and Ads speaking at the exact same time. “Jesus, Adrian.”
You manage to refrain from laughing, but you’re unable to stop yourself from smiling at him. Maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate response, but you know his intentions were pure.
Emilia turns to Adrian with a sigh. “Your turn, Vig. Truth or dare?”
“Uh - truth. No, dare. No. Truth. Yeah, truth.”
Emilia hums in thought, but you don’t miss the way her eyes flicker to yours for a brief moment. You can tell by the look on her face that she already knows exactly what she’s going to ask Adrian - and you have no doubt she already has a truth or dare lined up for you, too. Your grip on the neck of the beer bottle in your hand tightens involuntarily, suddenly regretting ever voicing your earlier curiosity to her and Economos.
“Out of everyone here, who do you feel the closest to and why?”
Adrian goes uncharacteristically quiet. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to formulate an answer. Normally, he just says the first thing to cross his mind. But right now, you can see his brows furrow beneath his glasses, like he’s really putting thought into what he wants to say.
“Well, Chris is my best friend, of course. That goes without saying,” he starts, then turns his body slightly towards you, looking you in the eye. “But other than Chris, I’m closest to you.”
He turns back to the rest of the group, who are all looking at him - though none of them look surprised.
“I just trust her a lot, I guess. Like, more than I trust most people, and that’s a big deal to me. She just gets me, you know?”
You feel your stomach flip, and Emilia’s eyebrows lift in silent amusement.
Adrian keeps going, seemingly oblivious to the way that everyone has gone silent. “And she never makes me feel like I’m weird for the stuff I say or do. She listens whenever I talk, no matter how dumb it is. She laughs at my jokes, even when no one else thinks they’re funny. And I like hanging out with her. Like, a lot. I kinda want to spend time with her all the time, actually.”
When he realizes how much he’s rambled, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turn fuschia. “So, yeah. Her.”
For a moment, nobody says a word. Your chest feels warm and your pulse flutters in a way that can’t be blamed on all of the beer you’ve drank. You’re convinced that you’ve forgotten how to speak, so you simply place your hand on his knee and give it a soft, comforting squeeze.
Emilia’s lips twitch, fighting a grin. “That might just be the most sincere answer that anyone has ever given during truth or dare.”
“Hey!” Chris says. “My answer was extremely fucking heartfelt.”
Emilia ignores him, turning to you with a wicked look. Your stomach flips once again, but this time for an entirely different reason.
“Truth or dare?” She asks simply.
You hesitate. You can only fucking imagine what kind of question she’ll ask if you pick truth, so…
“Dare,” you answer reluctantly.
You regret it before she gets the first word out. The look on her face says it all - this was her goal from the very start.
“I dare you to…” she trails off, her eyes darting between you and Adrian. “Whisper your biggest sexual fantasy in Adrian’s ear.”
The entire group reacts at once. Chris nearly tips his chair backwards from laughing so hard, Ads just shakes her and takes another sip of her drink, and Economos mutters, “I knew this was going to get weird.”
“You conniving little bitch,” you sigh, though there’s no real malice in your words. Her intentions are clear - in her own weird, twisted way, she’s trying to play matchmaker. And you’re letting her.
“Okay. Fine.”
Maybe it’s the fact that you aren’t one to back down from a dare. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve had a little too much to drink. Or maybe it’s the fact that Adrian’s answer to Emilia’s question is giving you the encouragement that you need. Maybe it’s all a little bit of all three - but for whatever reason, you’re able to gather up the nerve to lean in close, holding up your hand to shield your lips next to Adrian’s ear.
Everyone is silent, waiting for you to fulfill your dare. You try not to focus on that, instead focusing on the smell of his aftershave as you force the words out.
“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” You whisper.
“I’d never laugh at you,” he says in a hushed, earnest tone.
You take a deep breath. “It’s you. In the mask.”
He jumps back as if you’ve electrocuted him. “Holy shit, really? You’re serious?” Then, realizing that he’s speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear, he leans in, his mouth directly next to your ear. “Wait…you mean like, during sex?”
You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your skin on fire. “That was the question, wasn’t it?”
“Holy shit,” he breathes again, this time softer. “Why haven’t you told me before now?”
The close proximity of your face and his makes you feel dizzy, despite the fact that you’re sitting down. You’re vaguely aware that all of your friends are gawking at the two of you, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard for you to care.
“Why?” You murmur. “Is that something you’d be interested in?”
“Jesus, what did you say to him?” Chris interrupts before Adrian can answer, his voice full of exaggerated disgust. You clear your throat, turning back to the group as Adrian puts an inch or two of space in between you.
“That’s between them,” Emilia scolds him. “Alright, who’s next? Ads? Truth or dare?”
For the remainder of the game, you find it extremely difficult to pay attention to what anyone says or does. All you can focus on is the way Adrian gradually moves close to you again once the attention is no longer on the two of you, the side of his thigh brushing against yours.
You can’t stop replaying his reaction to your confession in your head, and mentally cursing the way that Chris had interrupted before Adrian could answer your question. What would he have said? Do you have the nerve to bring it up again?
Probably not. The liquid courage you’d felt earlier had dissipated, as you had stopped drinking some time ago and can hardly even consider yourself to be tipsy at this point.
Eventually, the game loses momentum. Economos disappears inside to pass out on Emilia’s couch, Ads decides to go back to her place, and Chris and Emilia converse by the railing, which leaves you and Adrian by yourselves on the loveseat.
He’s currently rambling about how spiders can actually produce seven different types of silk and you’re… letting him. You’re just listening, and watching him. You’re thinking about how cute he is in his glasses, and how he’s so close that you can feel warmth radiate off of him.
“Alright, you two,” Emilia calls from the doorway across the rooftop. “It’s nearly three o’clock. Either crash here or go home. I’m gonna lock up.”
You glance at Adrian to see that he’s already looking at you.
“I can drive you home,” he offers quickly, nearly tripping over his own words. “If you want. I only had two beers hours ago, so I’m totally fine to drive.”
You hesitate. The thought of being truly alone with him after your earlier conversation makes your heart race, but the way he’s looking at you, so hopeful, makes the decision easy.
“Yeah,” you nod, hoping you don’t sound too eager. “Yeah, that would be nice.”
He beams, already standing up and offering you his hand to help you up. Emilia holds the door open for you and him to enter the stairwell, giving you a satisfied look that communicates that she accomplished exactly what she had hoped to when suggesting a game of truth or dare.
Depending on how the rest of the night goes, you may or may not forgive her for instigating.
••••••
The car ride starts off in comfortable silence.
At least, it would be comfortable if your heart weren’t thudding so loudly that Adrian can probably hear it.
The roads are empty at this hour and the streetlights blur as he drives in the light rain that coincidentally started as soon as you got into his car. The only thing you can hear is the pitter-patter of raindrops and the squeaking of his windshield wipers that desperately need replaced.
You sneak a glance at him. He’s still in costume, minus the mask, which he had tossed in the backseat. His reaction to your confession continues to play on an endless loop in your mind, and though the thought of rejection terrifies you, you know you’ll always wonder what if if you let this night come to an end without getting some kind of closure.
You aren’t going to let Emilia’s meddling be for nothing. Not if you can help it.
“So…” you start quietly, twisting your fingers in your lap. “Did you mean what you said earlier? During the game?”
He glances at you briefly before looking back to the road. “Which part?”
“You know.” You clear your throat. “About me. When Emilia asked who you’re closest to.”
“Of course I meant it,” he answers, his voice soft, without a hint of hesitation. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had in my whole life. Every word I said was true.”
Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. The air in his Sebring suddenly feels uncomfortably warm.
“You’re one of my best friends, too, you know,” you say quietly, not trusting your voice to speak. “Ever in my whole life.”
“Really?” He asks, and you can’t help but grin at how excited he sounds. It’s hard to believe that this is the same man that has killed dozens of people with his bare hands.
“Duh,” you laugh.
He smiles, his cheeks dimpling in the adorable way that you’ve grown to love so much. He glances at you, his expression curious. “Can I ask you something now?”
You nod, your breath catching in your throat. “Mm-hm.”
“Did you mean it? What you told me when Emilia dared you to…?” He trails off, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Or is that just something you made up to avoid telling me your actual fantasy?”
You realize that he has given you an out - you could deny it, tell him that you panicked and said the first thing that came to your mind. But you’re not the best liar. And you don’t want to lie.
Not to him.
But you can’t bring yourself to look at him when you answer. “I really meant it,” you answer simply.
For a second, he doesn’t say anything. You glance at him, worried that maybe he was hoping you’d tell him you hadn’t meant it. Just as you open your mouth to speak again, he slams on the breaks, jerking the steering wheel towards the right. His tires screech as the car comes to a stop on a roadside pull off.
“Jesus, what—”
“I have the mask with me, you know,” he blurts, reaching behind your seat to retrieve the mask from where he had tossed it in the backseat. “It’s right here. I can put it back on if you wanted to, you know…” he trails off, jerking his head towards the backseat.
“Oh,” you squeak, realization dawning on you. “Here? Right here? On the side of the road?”
He looks around and shrugs. “I mean, we can go to your house, too. But these backroads are always deserted at this time—”
“Adrian,” you interject, shaking your head as you try to process what is happening. “Are you sure you want to..? We really don’t have to.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I wanted to be inside you the second you whispered that in my ear. I mean, I’ve wanted to be inside you for a lot longer than that, but now I think I might die if I don’t get as close to you as humanly possible.”
You can hardly believe what you’re hearing. You smile at him. “I want that, too. I just… I don’t want it to ruin our friendship or anything.”
He grabs your hand, shaking his head. “Seriously? It could never ruin our friendship. In fact, that’s like the whole reason that I want to do this. Because you’re my best friend. There’s literally no one else I’d rather be with.”
Your heart stutters, warmth blooming in your chest as all of your doubt melts away at his words.
He shifts in his seat, his mask clutched in one hand. “So, uh…” he starts, gesturing towards it. “Should I…?”
You catch his wrist in your hand before he can finish lifting the mask to his face. “Wait.”
He freezes, his eyes wide, as you lean across the center console. “I do want you to wear it,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “But not yet.”
He blinks. “Not yet?”
You nod, your face just inches from his. “I want to kiss you first.”
For a moment, he looks like he’s forgotten how to speak. How to breathe. It’s so unlike him that you can’t help but giggle.
“Oh,” he says softly. “That’s a good idea. Yeah, let’s do that. Please.”
He closes the distance between you before you have the chance. He brings his hand to the side of your face, cupping your jaw as his lips slate over yours. You can’t help but lean even further over the console, moving your lips with his. Your hand finds his side, fingers gripping the thick material of his suit.
It doesn’t take long for any restraint to disappear. What starts sweet and slow quickly turns desperate and messy, his tongue parting your lips for him. A low, eager noise escapes him when your teeth nip at his bottom lip, making heat pool in your lower belly.
“Promise me,” he breathes when he reluctantly pulls away, “that we can do a lot more of that once I take this mask back off.”
You laugh, breath fanning across his lips. “I promise,” you whisper. “Now get in the backseat.”
He doesn’t hesitate to do exactly that, throwing the driver’s side door open and practically running to the passenger side to open your door for you. He offers you his hand, practically pulling you out of the car before opening the back door. You duck inside, Adrian following you immediately after.
To no surprise, it’s cramped. In addition to various knives and other weapons, there’s also random chip bags that he keeps in steady supply for Eagly. You waste no time pushing the clutter to the floor.
He has his mask still clutched in his hands, looking ready as ever to put it on, but first…
“Take the rest of your suit off,” you breathe. “Just the mask.”
He nods, seemingly eager to do whatever you tell him to do. You help him, unbuttoning his tactical pants as he works to shed the layers of armor from the top half of his body. Soon, he’s left in nothing but his boxers, erection straining firm against the fabric.
Even with the limited amount of lighting in the car, your mouth goes dry at the sight. The muscles of his chest are taut and defined, perfectly sculpted. It isn’t your first time seeing him shirtless, so you aren’t surprised by his physique, but it still leaves you speechless.
He sits down, his bare back against the leather of the seat. You’ve seen so many different sides of him. Goofy and elated when you’re blowing up random kitchen appliances with him and Chris. Brutal and merciless when on missions. Vulnerable when Chris left for an alternate dimension. Ditzy and drunk, dancing without a care in the world. You’ve adored every version of Adrian that you’ve experienced. But right now - this version of him that’s looking at you in awe - is by far your favorite.
“Come here,” he murmurs, voice strained. You quickly tug your panties down your legs before tossing them somewhere in the front seat, the dress you’re wearing for your Halloween costume making it easy to dispose of them. Then, he pulls you onto his lap, your legs bracketing the sides of his thighs.
The swell of his erection, still confined by his boxers, rubs against your cunt. You involuntarily roll your hips and he shudders, his teeth digging into his bottom lip at the movement.
His fingers bunch around the fabric of your dress and you lift your arms, allowing him to tug the fabric upwards, over your head. You’re left in only your bra, which he makes quick work of unclasping and pulling down your arms.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, his gaze raking down your body. “You’re the most beautiful person I know. I can’t believe this is finally happening. Also, normally I would totally go down on you, just so you know. So, I hope I have the chance to do that soon. Tomorrow, maybe—”
“Adrian.” You stop his rambling with a soft kiss to his lips. His fingers tighten their hold on your waist. You pull back, carefully removing his glasses from his face. “We can do whatever you want later. I promise. But right now, put on your mask and get inside me.”
“Right,” he nods enthusiastically, grabbing the mask and maneuvering it over his face. Your palms rest on his chest, excitedly twitching at the sight of him beneath you, bare except for the mask that now conceals his face.
“Fuck,” you sigh, barely audible. Another slow roll of your hips and his hands move from your hips to your ass. “I was right. You look so fucking hot like this.”
You pull back, just enough for him to free his cock from his boxers. He wraps his fist around the length, stroking himself a few times as you raise up on the balls of your feet. He positions himself at your entrance, teasingly nudging at your folds as you brace yourself for the stretch of him.
“Shit,” you both breathe in unison as he eases the tip inside. His hips buck, his restraint slipping away. Part of you wants to take your time, tease him a little - but then you remember that you’re on the side of a random backroad in the middle of the night.
Later. You had promised him later, and you meant it. But that isn’t now.
You sink yourself onto his length with a sharp inhale. He hisses, his head falling back against the seat. He curses under his breath, fingertips digging into your flesh. You go still momentarily, letting yourself adjust to his size before you roll your hips. You brace yourself with your hands on his shoulders, working up to a steady rhythm that has you moaning and him crooning your name.
“God, you are perfect,” he grunts, thrusting upwards to match your movements with his own. “My best friend. Fuck, don’t tell Chris, but you are. You mean the world to me.”
The words pull a strangled cry from deep within you, the tension in your lower belly quickly tightening. You can’t form a coherent sentence, so you settle for his name - Adrian, Adrian, Adrian - it fills the space of the Sebring along with the sound of your body meeting his over and over again.
“Wanna know my biggest fantasy?” His voice is slightly muffled from behind the mask. “It’s you. Just you. Touching you, getting to call you mine. Fuck. Loving you, kissing you—”
That’s it. Your hands fly to the hem of the mask and you pull it off of him, giving him no time to react before crushing your lips to his.
The mask is every bit as hot as you imagined it would be, but as much as you love Vigilante, you love Adrian more.
You reach your climaxes at the same time, your lips never leaving his as you continue to ride him through the waves of pleasure. Only when your legs are shaking and he’s limp beneath you do you collapse against his chest, pressing kiss after kiss to his sweat-slicked skin. His hands roam up and down the expanse of your back, uncharacteristically tender.
“Don’t worry,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. Then, grabbing his glasses from where you’d put them behind the headrest for safekeeping, you place them back onto his face. “I won’t tell Chris what you said about me being your best friend. Your secret is safe with me.”
He shakes his head with a dazed smile. “Honestly, I don’t even care. You can tell everyone. Because it’s the truth. I love Chris a lot, but I love you more. More than anyone. And I don’t need a game of truth or dare to tell you that.”
thank you so much for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated! dividers by @/enchanthings
shut up - trapped in a utility closet while hiding out from the butterflies, you shut adrian up the only way you know how.
