#sub!adrian chase

[hunchandmunch]

vampire!reader and adrian purposely trying to get slutted out and fed on by craning his neck constantly

[superbabetotherescue]

nsfw

dude adrian like crying bc you’ve been teasing him foreverrrr and he wants to be inside you sooo bad but you won’t let him, you just keep grinding against him and you even let him slip his cock inside your panties, let him rut against your wet folds, but you won’t actually let him in and you won’t let him come so he’s flushed all over and babbling and pleading with you to let him in and trying not start fucking sobbing because he just needs to feel you wrapped around him and ughhhhhhhhh

[bluewindissad]

need more sub!adrian fics where he’s actually whiny and pathetic the whole time

[weaponized-cuteness]

Primal Play Part Two

Cosmetics: Gif by @chaseadrian and divider by @plum98

Pairing: Adrian Chase x reader

Summary: Part two of this fic. It's your birthday, happy birthday! You are back in the woods, hunting Adrian who is putty in your hands this time around

Tags: SMUT 18+ MDNI, Primal Play, sub!Adrian, Dom!reader, established relationship, no use of y/n, face riding, degradation, masochism, consuming blood, blood kink

Adrian thinks that being extra nice to you this morning will make you go easy on him. That’s your theory anyway, but the truth is, he cares about your birthday more than any other day of the year. You woke up to a lavish breakfast, a concerning amount of gifts, and enough kisses for a year. 

That was almost 12 hours ago now. The sun nears the Olympics, and you are tucked up in a tree, waiting for Adrian to step into your snare trap. Soon, he’ll be suspended in the air, and you’ll have unlimited access to him. The thought of it makes your mouth water. But you know that he’ll fight, and he’s likely got his suit on again this time, even though you made it explicitly clear that suits were not allowed. Would you really mind? The armor is very sexy, but you’re very competitive. 

Meanwhile, Adrian is strolling aimlessly within the agreed-upon boundary lines. He’s thirsty, hungry, and hard. Distractingly so. He’s been like this for hours. It’s quiet – too quiet. He’s anxious and tries to stay vigilant, but inevitably, his mind wanders to that first birthday together. After getting together with the rest of the 11th Street Kids, he took you home, where you spent more time talking about what kind of birthday sex he wanted than actually performing the act. 

“I think it would be kind of hot if you, like, chased me through the woods. Is that weird?” 

“No, that's probably the most normal thing you’re into.” 

“You don’t get it, I mean, like if you really chased me, and maybe even knocked me out. Like I want you to make me bleed. Like an animal.” 

“No, I think I get it. My point still stands. Do I need to remind you that there’s a V carved into your back? I think you wanting me to chase you in the woods is an indicator of a healthy sex life. So, yeah, we can do that.” 

The corners of Adrian’s mouth twitch into a smile, the thought of you: your eagerness to match his energy, your personality and the way it fits his like a glove, your ambition, the way you show him love, your gorgeous face and enchanting smile, your body – oh god that body, the way you react to every touch of his, how you clench around him so tightly when he makes you cum that it knocks the wind out of him. Something about knowing you were chasing him made it impossible to suppress the dirty thoughts and the constant flow of blood through his dick. 

He reminisced on the first time you chased him around the forest, and he went so easy on you out of the fear of someone else being in these woods. But your destruction of his body let him know you are no damsel in distress, you are a winner. Next time, he didn’t allow himself to become soft to your puppy dog eyes and pouting lips. But to his chagrin, he didn’t last that much longer than the previous year. 

Adrian is pulled from his memories when the rope tightens around his ankle and yanks him off his feet in a flash. The tightness of the rope draws a hiss from behind gritted teeth. His heart pounds against his ribs, confused and frazzled. It’s not long until his head gets heavy under the pressure of the downward blood flow. He pulls himself up to grab his foot and free himself. The showcase of his athleticism awakens your deepest animalistic instincts. Your heartbeat quickens. Must create offspring. You hop down from the tree, and when he hears the thud of your landing, he tries to spin himself around to face you. 

“Oh darn it,” Adrian grunts. Your hands steady his torso to face you, and your fingers clench around his suit when he attempts to squirm away. His abs tighten beneath his base layer, sending a warm shiver down your spine. Then your hand is pushed back by the stretch of his stomach, taking in a deep, worrisome breath. The scene floods your core with giddy delight. A string of breathy swears leaves his mouth until you crouch down to meet his eye. He silences and looks at you like a deer in headlights. 

“Hi,” you hum. He isn’t in his suit. “Good boy, you followed the rules this time.” 

“H-hi,” he returns through his hyperventilation. Adrian’s weight tugs against the rope, scraping his skin as it settles tightly against his ankle, eliminating what remaining give it has. Something between agony and pleasure escapes his lips. “Can you cut me down? This is, like, really tight on my ankle.” 

“Remember when you made me sprain my ankle a few months ago?” You speak in a faux-innocent, sultry voice. Adrian winces, whether from the pain or from the memory of you crying when you got home that night because it hurt so bad, unknown. 

“That wasn’t even my fault! Ah– fuck. Baby, please. It hurts,” he pleads. His face is scrunched, and his eyes scream the swears caught in his throat. You stand back up and are met with the sight of skin rubbed raw and blood from a reopened wound trickling down his leg. “Please.” 

You grab his shin and pull him closer to you. The rope groans in the subtle shift. As his ankle approaches your face, the metallic smell of his blood ignites your senses, and your chest buzzes with elation. You stick out your tongue and press it along the stream of blood, careful to stop before his wound. Adrian moans. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, my love,” you sigh. Your teeth bear in a cheek-splitting smile. Your stomach flips, and heat flows through your limbs. “But I want to win. How about this, you tell me you are giving up, and I cut you down?” 

“Fuck n-no. Hurt me all you want, baby. I can take it.” 

“You want me to hurt you?”

“Give it all you got.” His chest rises and falls rapidly, and his face is becoming a deep shade of crimson. You sit criss-cross on the pine-covered ground facing him. He gives you a forced smug smile. You stretch to the side to pull your bag of supplies close, but when you turn back to face him, your nose is met by his in a blow that sends you reeling. You fall back and land on your bent elbow. The taste of his blood has already waned. Yours takes its place.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Adrian yells. At his next exhale, blood splatters from his nose. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

Your mouth and his nose, bloodied by his attempts at escape, turn you on to a near-painful level-- your insides throb. Feigning anger, you snatch the bag and dive your hand in for the long, thick teal ribbon. When his eyes catch it, they gleam, stunned by the sight. You reach for him, and he writhes against the creaking rope. The burning in his ankle draws a cry. 

You grab his wrists, but he continues to fight your grip, thrashing more. The tree is rustling wildly, sending leaves cascading around you. The branch begins to shriek as it is tugged away from the tree. The rope howls until a sudden silence fills the air as Adrian falls from his trap. The rope lands by his feet, ends frayed from the snap.

Fuck! He’s up in a flash and books it away from you. No time for the rest of your supplies, ribbon still in hand, you chase after him. He laughs as he nears escape, but it's premature. He’s limping, and blood is trailing over fallen leaves. Your chest tightens. Feelings of pleasure and of concern comingle. 

He is breathing so loudly, you can hear it from a few feet behind him. The space between you is closing rapidly, and when he turns to measure his distance, you tackle him to the ground. He yelps, and your lungs are cleared when you land with a thud over his lap. His hard dick digs into your cheek. You’re breathless, but if you want to win, you have to keep moving. Your legs swing over his own, and you crawl up to land on his lap, your sex taking the spot of your cheek only a half-second ago. 

“Oh, you want to play mean? I can play mean. You want me to hurt you, Adrian. I’ll make you weep like a baby and beg me to stop,” you threaten. He reaches for your hips, likely to throw you off, but you catch his wrists and pin them against the ground. 

“I’d love to see you play mean,” he can’t hide the smile bubbling onto his face. “Really, I would. But I’m, like, way stronger and faster than you. So good luck.” 

He bucks his hips upward, aiming to throw you off him, but your thighs tighten around his torso, and you lean your chest down against his, lips coming up to his neck. He does the move again, but with all your weight consciously pressed against, it’s futile. You let go of his wrists, and they fly back to your waist. Before he can peel you off him, you spread your lips around his neck and sink your teeth into the delicate skin. He yells, and his head rests against the ground. His throat arches up into your lips, leaning into your bite. He moans obscenities until you feel the wet satisfaction of his blood again. Earthy and warm, it’s intoxicating. A hand falls from your hips and lands on his dick, which he palms to alleviate some of the searing horniness. Noises threaten to escape your mouth as his hand slides into the small gap between you. Your teeth let up, and are replaced by your tongue. You draw up his neck, over his jawline, and to his mouth. He doesn’t protest to your tongue sliding over his. The throbbing in his neck and dick are so distracting that his lips soften. You pull away and give him a practiced glare. 

“Tell me you don’t want me to sit on your cock and fuck myself with it?” 

“I don’t lie to you, baby. I’d never lie to you,” he hums. His breathing is still heavy. You grind your hips against his, earning a moan. “Shit.” 

Adrian’s hand returns to your sides, and he slides them up, back down, up, and down further and further until he crunches to grab the soft swoop of your ass. He pulls, dragging you up to his chest. You stare down at him until his hands sink further down your leg, and he yanks you off him by the thighs. You land on the ground next to him and find that ribbon lying between you. 

Like in a movie, you eye the ribbon, then Adrian, who is eying it too, and you both dash for it. But he’s faster, and he catches it. He sits up on his heels. You try to crawl away, but he grabs your legs and pulls you against the hard ground. Pine needles and sticks scratch through your clothes. When he gets you close enough to him, he reaches for your hands, and you turn, throwing all of your weight into your shoulder and slamming into him. He falls back, and you scramble to get back on top of him. He’s shoving at your shoulders, but you plow forward until your lap rests over his face, and your knees pin down his biceps. He muffles against you, and the vibration sends a pleasurable vibration through your body. Finally, with him pinned, you can snatch the ribbon from him and tie his hands together. 

As the knot cinches into place, you hold your end of the ribbon like a leash and inch back to his lap. His breathing is heavy, his glasses are sideways, and he has a dazed look in his eye. 

“Tell me, Adrian. Do you, or do you not, want me to use you to fuck myself?” He clings to every drawn-out word of your question. 

“Hnng– this isn’t fair. You know I don’t like lying to you, but if I say yes, I’ll lose, and I was really hoping to win this time. I found a scope for my-” as if you aren’t seconds away from touching him, he spirals into typical Adrian-style rambling about what was going to be his prize for winning. 

“Adrian,” you direct him back to the present. “Yes, or no?” 

His eyebrows furrow in indecision. Still gripping onto the long end of the ribbon, you shift your hips forward, then push down and back. His breath hitches and eyes flutter closed. 

“I can also get you off just like this, I bet.” He moans as you slide your hips over his crotch again. Your seductive look melts into one of pitiful angst. “But it’s my birthday. I’d really rather feel you inside me.” 

“I don’t want to lose,” he whines. 

“Oh, baby. You lost the moment I bit into your neck. I know your weaknesses.” Your free hand falls over the bulge in his pants. He whimpers at your touch. “You belong to me.” 

He nods, eagerly. “Fuck- Oh God, yes.” 

“You’ve been really mean to me today, making me bleed like that.” 

“I know, I’m so sorry.” He’s talking a mile a minute, barely breathing in between. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never hurt you ever again. Fuck! I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t say you don’t deserve me. That’s not true. Cause you’re going to make it up to me.” 

“I am?” 

You offer him a sweet smile before reaching for his zipper. The metal is cold between your fingertips, and it parts easily at your pull. His pants unbutton just as well. Your fingers creep into the gap in his underwear and curl around his dick. Adrian groans and bucks his hips against your touch. He springs free from his pants.

“Yeah, you are.” You begin to stroke, carefully twisting your wrist. Adrian whimpers when your fingers stretch to his balls, which you give a firm squeeze. “You’re going to make it up to me by letting me ride your handsome face until I cum all over you.”

“What about me?” he asks, his head lifting from the ground to flash you his frown. “Do I get to cum?” 

You drop his dick, and your hand clenches around his chin. His lips squish together. Their glossiness and protrusion beg you to kiss him, but you push down the urge. 

“You should be more than satisfied just to please me,” you spit. Adrian tries to nod against your firm grasp. 

“Fuck, you’re right. I’m sorry, fuck. You can use my body, baby. It’s all yours.” You drop his chin and stand over him, removing the bottom half of your clothes. Adrian stares, mouth agape, dumbfounded at how he managed to ever convince you to give him a chance. “Wait, no, I mean… I’m not giving up yet.” 

“Shut up, Adrian. Put that mouth to good use.” You descend to straddle him again, this time over his chest and not his waist. From there, you inch forward until your back is over his face. Though he wants to resist, to try to win, he’s overcome by your scent and gets to work immediately, like you’re an ice cream cone on the hottest day of the year. You throw your head back, and a moan pushes from your throat. His lips are sealed around your clit, and his tongue flicks over you in desperation. He’s hungry, and the taste of your sex triggers a gnawing in his stomach, the need for more takes over, and in no time, he has your legs nearly shaking.  

His wrists yank against the ribbon, forgetting he was tied up. When you ride his face like this, he likes to wrap his toned arms around you and strap you in. You squeeze your thighs around his skull, and he groans against your skin.

“Oh God, Adrian. You’re so g–good for me.” His tongue moves faster, eager to feel you finish all over his face. Your core is taut as you get closer. He grazes over a particularly sensitive spot, and your hips jerk. “Fuck, right there, yeah.” 

“Mmm-hmm.” His lips double down in that spot, he digs deeper until he can feel your body clench before the release of wetness floods his face, accompanied by the sweet melody of you crying his name. Your body quakes over him. You see stars as your orgasm hits your nerves in waves.

When the shaking slows, you crawl back towards Adrian's waist. His expression, you find, is one of glee. He is so beautiful like this, absolute peace. 

“What do you say?” You chirp. His smile melts into a lazier one, but it's just as content.

“Thank you,” he hums. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, so mu-uh”

He is cut off by his own moans when your folds slide around him. His eyes widen as you lift yourself up and tease his tip. 

“Adrian?” You slur. He only offers a weak hmm in response. “Tell me you lost, and I’ll let you cum inside me.” 

“I lost,” he says, this time, without a second thought.

taglist: @saintlucretia and @whatislovevavy

[midorisplash]

Adrian’s Favorite Twitch Streamer!

Pairing: Adrain chase

Summary: Adrian has a routine when it’s time watch his favorite streamer!

Warnings: Masterbating!

A/n: I was thinking about Adrian so I just wrote this real quick, I miss my husband.,

Adrain stared at the video flickering across his iPad. The iPad was laid out on the desk in-front of him and he stood above it looking down. The video playing, his favorite twitch streamer livestream of course.

It was part of his routine to watch them every other night. He loved watching them it was something he really enjoyed..But, maybe he enjoyed it too much though considering he had a vibrator pressed against his tip while he watched.

Adrain gripped the toy with enough force his knuckles turned white. His arm flexing to keep the toy in place on his sensitive tip, his pre cum was making the toy slide off every other second. He frowned his eyebrows trying to read the chat he was waiting for them to reach his donation.

“Come on, come on..” He whispered bitting his lip to hold back a pathetic moan that still slipped past. “Agh fuck… Read it come on!”

“Another night another donation from totallynotvigilante! Thank for the 50 dollars donation! Will I’ll be playing Pokémon tonight? Hmm I wasn’t planning on it but, maybe because of your very generous donation I might turn it on for an hour or two!”

“Turn it on..” Adrian whimpered rubbing the toy back and forth over his frenulum. “Fuck yeah turn it on!” He was about to cum from his donation being read alone them saying “turn it on” was the icing to his cake. He panted and squeezed his eyes shut.

The first time Adrian touched himself to their stream he felt bad cumming since there was nothing inherently sexual going on, Therefore since that day he told himself he’d looked away when ever he came. That felt way more respectful.

“Oh yeah! They’re gonna play fucking Pokémon! Oh fuck… oh god..” He whined letting out a stream nonsensical remarks his eyes squeezing tighter, His free hand shoot up shakily to pinch his nipple over his shirt. He let a pathetic cry feeling his orgasm finally plunging through him, his body huntching over his desk as cum spurt out across his iPad. He kept the vibrator pressed at his jerking tip as tightly as he could while trying to ride out his oragsm till the very last drop.

Gosh he felt like such a cow when he’s milk himself out like this for you, he always made sure he didn’t pull away until he was for sure done. In his head he like to imagine they wanted every last drop out of him.

After 5 deep wave of pleasure his body felt like running from he finally caught his breath panting while putting the vibrator down with a shaky hand to his desk. He slowly opened his eyes and groaned when he saw the mess he painted across his iPad and their face. He let out a soft chuckle and shakily pressed the voice to text button in chat. “Hey again It’s me, I’m really loving the stream! Can’t wait till you start gaming! But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you just chatting to that’s actually more of my favorite! I like it both equally actually. I have to clean up a pretty big mess I made lol I’ll leave you’re stream on though lol!

They looked at the chat reading it for a second. “You know this guy always say he has to clean up, you’d think whatever he’s cleaning would be clean already.” They paused reading the rest of the message their head titling. “I made?” They mumbled “Wait, what is the mess up? Chat?”

[mayblelayla]

MOODY- A. CHASE Pt.1

Summary: To say that Adrian Chase despised Willow Redding would be a lie.

Well... not a complete lie.

Her attitude was terrible, sarcasm was a weapon to her, and she had an infuriating habit of calling him out on every reckless decision he made. She challenged him. Pushed him. Rolled her eyes at him—somehow making him want to try harder.

He told himself she was trouble.

He told himself he couldn't stand her.

The truth? It was much worse than that.

He was utterly—hopelessly infatuated with Willow Redding.

Word Count: 1,114

Warnings: sexual tension you'd need a chainway to cut, OC, threatening comments, eventual smut, very nasty thoughts, undercover mission, forced proximity, fake marriage

Pt. 2 Pt.3 Pt.4

They had met while Adrian and Peacemaker were on patrol, staking out the old Glan Tai factory to check for any rogue butterflies. Instead, they ran into a woman wearing an A.R.G.U.S. medical uniform who was hunched over a man, gloved hands pressing gauze into a nasty gash in his side. Crimson soaked into the rough concrete, the metallic tang stinging her nose. Broken shipping crates leaned at odd angles, splintered wood jutting out, and a faint hum of wiring overhead made the warehouse feel alive, pulsing with tension. Under her breath, she muttered something the two men couldn’t make out.

“Whoa. Guess I missed the party. Sick suit—what’s this? ‘I work for corporate overlords’ edition?” Adrian’s voice cut through the chaos.

She didn’t glance up. She tried to bite back a reply, but all that escaped was a hiss. “You’re contaminating my scene, asshat.”

His grin only widened. “Oh? Your scene? This looks like a fucking alien buffet!” He gestured at the broken shipping boxes, dead bodies, and pulsating blue cocoons splattered across the walls.

Another man with a deeper voice yelled from behind her. “Shut the fuck up!” She recognized the voice from the news footage. Lovely, she thought. The masked man beside her was Vigilante, and he was here with Peacemaker. Of course. Perfect.

Chris drew closer, curious. “You’re medical? I thought they shipped all of you back after the incident.” Her jaw tightened. Nosy civilians were her least favorite problem. She flexed her fingers, itching to get back to work.

“Someone’s got to clean up your messes,” she muttered, tossing the gauze aside as the blood stopped pulsing. There went Sam. Shame—I liked him.

Vigilante scoffed under his mask. “She’s got an attitude. I like her.” She glared. “Wait, no, I don’t,” he corrected. “Anyone with A.R.G.U.S. is on my maybe-kill list.” Anything else he was going to say was cut short. 

“One of the cocoons is still alive!” One of her teammates yelled

She snapped, eyes darting to an agent waving at a bright blue cocoon pulsating on the wall.

She yanked a containment container from her medical bag and leapt to intercept it. Timing was critical. The last time one had escaped, it had possessed James, and she’d been forced to put him down. She hadn’t even taken a step forward when a gunshot cracked beside her. The cocoon burst against the wall, splattering turquoise goo over the nearest agent.

The container clattered to the ground. Reflexively, she spun and tackled Vigilante. His head hit the concrete with a groan.

“You motherfucker!” she hissed, pressing her knife to the seam of his mask. There was no weak point here, but it would allow him just enough movement for her control. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I could get fired for this!”

He squirmed beneath her. “Oh, shut up.” Was that a whine? She paused. This man—this ball of energy—was impossible.

“Listen,” Peacemaker called from nearby. She didn’t look up, keeping her gaze locked on the red visor. “He didn’t mean trouble. I’ll take him off your hands.”

Sighing, she rolled off him, glaring at the larger man in shiny armor. “You’re lucky I hate my job.” Vigilante scrambled up, muttering under his mask, and they both retreated.

Being an A.R.G.U.S. agent had its perks. She had access to a surprising amount of classified info—but also limits. Files on her own family were restricted; she was labeled a liability. Back at her hotel in Evergreen, she booted up her laptop.

First stop: Peacemaker’s trailer. Empty. Next: his father’s house. Through the kitchen window, she saw him hunched over a computer. Beside him was who she assumed to be Vigilante. What she saw next made bile creep up her throat: a video she hadn’t seen in years, one that had brought A.R.G.U.S. crashing into her home, Amanda Waller right behind them. That day, she had signed a contract she couldn’t escape—except in a body bag. She chose to survive.

Economos had sent over the files Chris requested. Adrian was the first to break the silence. “Jesus Christ.”

Chris’ voice was choked. “They killed her brother and blackmailed her into working for them?”

Adrian pointed at the video attachment. “Wait… is that the video?”

The black screen flickered. A bearded man, middle-aged with red hair, appeared, setting the camera against a tree near a forest fire. Screams echoed around him. Leaning into the camera, he whispered something—cut off by a burst of flame.

“Holy fuck,” Adrian muttered.

A day later, Vigilante learned about a massive shipment of drugs headed to an abandoned warehouse. He arrived first, proud to beat them there.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Chase,” a blade pressed against his back.

He reached for his gun. “Nice entrance. All you? Wanted me alone? Really liked me that much?”

The blade dug deeper.

“You talk too much,” she snapped.

“Keeps the conversation flowing,” he said, grinning despite himself.

She rolled her eyes. “You read my file.”

“So—are you gonna kill me?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’m going to make sure you know what it feels like to be powerless,” she replied, kicking him behind the knees and pressing him against the ground, her boot stomping into his hand.

“Look,” he tried to plead, “I don’t hate you… okay, I do a little—but I’m not with A.R.G.U.S. I swear.”

“Yet you work with them,” she said, lowering her knife slightly, “just because you don’t have a contract doesn’t mean you’re not with them. Why are you really here? The butterflies? Or something else?”

He swallowed. Her face hovered over his, hair pulled into a braid, dressed in black and red. She exhaled, voice thick with frustration. “Everything always comes back to him. But right now, you’re digging through my life like a scavenger.”

“I didn’t—” he cut himself off. “We thought you were the enemy,” he hissed as her boot dug in again.

“Enemy?” she smiled thinly. “Anything standing between me and the truth is the enemy. You’re at the top of that list.”

Thunder boomed, echoing around the warehouse. Using the distraction, he wrapped his legs around hers and flipped them over in a single motion. His gun remained a foot away.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he panted.

“I work better alone,” she bit back, trying to bite him. Startled, he yelped. She rolled for her toolbelt, splashing a small container of red smoke to cover her retreat.

When the smoke cleared, she had disappeared.

“Really? Red?” he muttered, staring at his suit.

[stethosc0pe]

snippet of part four to is there anyone? and my luck could change

its called strays :P this is an in the middle of an argument impassioned by love, duh

currently at 6.5k. there will be smut btw. sub!adrian! currently writing it. bye

-

You try again, ‘I can’t let you get hurt. Not you.’

‘Hurt me. Let me get hurt, I don’t care!’ He replies. Almost requests.

‘I care!’ You cry, gesturing to yourself with both hands, shaking. Your voice is loud and rasping and breaking and washing away under tears that haven’t breached. Your chin quivers. The rest of your statement comes out stuttering and scrambling, adorned with the heavy water in your eyes being hit with bathroom light. ‘I’m not right! I’m- I’m sick! And— and… you’re so good, Adrian.’

Your eyebrows peak up as far as they can go at the end when you express your opinion on him. It would make him so glad to be praised by you any other time, but now he’s just getting frustrated.

‘Then why are you leaving me here?’ He’s asking so earnestly. He really wants answers so he can just fucking fix it; he’s struggling for them. He looks like a shelter dog waiting to be put down. You don’t want him to be like this.

Especially not for you.

You reach a sharp realization at the forefront of your brain, and you understand deeply now why Harcourt hated herself for what happened to you.

-

send me an ask to be added to taglist!

[xenodykery]

adrian chase/vigilante headcanons

forgot how much of a bbg he is ugh

black plus-size gnc reader

includes sfw and nsfw situations

listens to music inside his helmet

loves to collect those aprons with bodies printed on the front—any type of body at that

neurodivergent !

rambles a whole lot about random shit and redirects the conversation at least ten times before getting back to the main topic

he’s so sassy like you really can’t be going back and forth with him and expect to have the last word

sandals w no socks + flexes his toes a lot (stimming)

so papa-coded

mask on/off sfw = heavy eye contact

if he’s flustered with his mask on/off he’s gonna look everywhere but at you and will be sneaking glances

^actually it depends. he can be very heavy eye contact being flustered tew hmmm.

he’s so feral and unhinged

likes to bite you

is a jokester mostly but can turn it off in an instant once you give him a certain look

giggles a lot

touch starved lord. when’s the last time he got a hug

^gives long tight hugs + buries his face in your neck

likes to touch but the first time y’all went out his hands only hovered near your body, his demeanor hesitant

very clingy—both as a companion and as a lil boo ting

likes pda when it’s initiated by you

a brat. kinda hard to tame lmaooo he’s a good tease.

^starts off talkative then turns into a mess of whimpers and incoherent words.

begs easily. like you really don’t gotta do much intimidation once his brat battery runs out

sleeps with his mouth open

actually purrs when y’all cuddle

good big spoon and little spoon

checks on you a lot when y’all decide to sleep separately

is a really good cook—watches the cooks at the diner he works at a lot

loves to feed you + watch you eat

easily flustered by ordinary things you do

definitely gets turned on by your bouts of aggression and moments when you take control (outside of intimate settings)

so when y’all are on missions, his adrenaline gets paired with arousal

and after he’s v unhinged have mercy

gives off stalker

that's bc he is! and he doesn't deny it when caught

ending it here but more parts are to come :3