came for the memes, stayed for the self-insert fic
@vigilantexreader
Nicole. 27. I read a lot of fanfic and sometimes I write it too. Requests are always open, but I can’t promise I will get to everything! Current hyperfixations: Adrian Chase 🖤🩵🤍 & Clark Kent 💙❤️
adrian chase’s official bff list - 4.6k words - You work your way up Adrian’s bff list until Chris finally gets demoted. 🩷
adrian vs superman - 7.2k words - You think Superman is hot. When you get the chance to meet your hero in real life, Adrian's jealousy spirals out of control. 🩷
déjà vu - 2.3k words - When Adrian decides it’s finally time to tell you about Vigilante, he’s flabbergasted to learn that he’s not the first crime-fighting boyfriend you’ve had. 🩷
do you want me to kill that guy for you? - 3.6k words - Adrian is constantly offering to kill people for you. When you finally take him up on it, it turns into a bonding activity. 🩷
eat the rich - 3.2k - Adrian gets hyperfixated on a new thief in Evergreen and makes it his mission to take her down. But when he finally gets the chance, things are more complicated than that. 🩷
emergency contact - 2.9k words - Adrian finds out he’s your emergency contact when he gets a late-night phone call, and he freaks out. 🩷
flower crowns and flaming swords - 1.5k words - A chaotic day at the Renaissance Faire with Adrian. 🩷
healing factor - 3.4k words - Adrian is used to sleeping things off, waking up to closed-up wounds and only the memory of pain. But something's wrong this time. 🩵
kiss it better - 3k words - Checkmate hires a new medic. Adrian starts wondering if he needs to get shot more often. 🩵
like real people do - 4k words - Adrian feels a lot of feelings, and it’s all your fault. He manages to cope with it just fine (barely) until you get yourself hurt on a mission, and then he just can’t fucking take it anymore. 🩷
merry christmas ya filthy animal - 3k words - You have no idea what to get Adrian for Christmas, so you take some inspiration from his favorite holiday movie. 🩵
the one that i want - 2.6k words - In a moment of vulnerability and panic, you want Adrian. But nobody knows yet about your relationship. 🩷
secondhand smoke - 2.3k words - When a guy smoking a cigarette at a restaurant triggers your asthma, Adrian loses it. 🩷
sexy hug - 4.6k - Adrian's acting weird, and when you ask him what's up, you get an answer you were not expecting. Why the hell is he jealous of Economos? 🩷🔥
soft spot - 2.1k - Adrian has no idea what to do for Valentine's Day. He asks Harcourt for some advice. 🩷
symbiotic relationship - 2.8k - Adrian likes to yap a lot. Usually you don't mind. You just really, really wish he would stop yapping about spiders. 🩵
wants and needs - 2.6k words - You've had a really shitty day, so Adrian comes home early from patrol to comfort you. 🩷
the evergreen public library 🩷
the evergreen public library - 6.2k words - You’re the new reference librarian. Adrian is a library regular who works his way into your heart. When Vigilante starts offing problematic library patrons, you start to wonder what the hell is going on.
the evergreen public library book club - 5.3k words - You're starting a new book club at the library, and you need members. Adrian knows exactly who to drag along.
the evergreen public library intervention - 6.5k You and Adrian stumble upon the first major roadblock in your relationship. As you argue about work and worry about one another's safety, you struggle to compromise.
everything has changed 🩷🔥
Adrian has spent his entire life thinking he's a Beta. Then one traumatic mission turns his life upside-down, and he realizes he might finally get to have the one thing he's always wanted: you.
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight
i don't want to miss you like this 🩷🔥
COMPLETE - Adrian loves his job at Checkmate, but when he gets sent on a long-term mission, he misses you. A lot. When two weeks turns into three, and then more, he starts to lose it a little.
part one | part two | part three | part four
trigger happy series 🩷🔥
COMPLETE - During a chance encounter with Vigilante, you get an impromptu lesson in murder. You and the costumed crime fighter strike up an unexpected friendship, and as you grow closer, and it becomes clear that something suspicious is going on, he's determined to help you get to the bottom of it.
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | epilogue
blurbs (>1k words)
mini me - You crochet Adrian a mini Vigilante.
sidekick - Adrian has a lot of feelings about Punch the monkey. 🩵
Clark Kent x fem!Reader
Superman vs. Vigilante - 14k words - When Justice Gang starts a new initiative to work with other superhero groups across the country and Checkmate is chosen for the trial run, you’re assigned to work the breaking story. After all, your best friend is a founder of the company. Clark is happy for you. He really is. But…why are you friends with these people?
librarian!Reader collection
The Girl at the Circulation Desk - 5.3k words - Clark frequents the local library and finds himself crushing on you, the cute girl at the front desk
The Boy with the Brand New Library Card - 1.3k words - Clark meets Librarian!Reader for the first time
Most Ardently - 1k words - You dress up as Elizabeth Bennet for Halloween and Clark shows up as your Mr. Darcy
Book Boyfriend - 1.2k words - In which you convince Clark to participate in a BookTok trend
‘Tis the Season - 2.2k words - As you keep yourself busy making sure the kids at the library have a magical Christmas, Clark is there to make sure your Christmas is magical, too.
Role Reversal - ~900 words - A role reversal of the TikTok trend as seen in Book Boyfriend.
synopsis: Adrian's neverending streak of back to back missions is finally over. Now that he knows what it's like to be without you, he never wants to feel like that again. Luckily, there's a chapel right down the block where he can make you his for good.
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, FLUFF (literally so much fluff), SMUT (piv sex in multiple positions, oral f!receiving), marriage proposal, wedding!!, 11th Street Kids cameos, Adrian is so in love it's sickening
word count: 6.1k
notes: IT IS FINALLY HERE! I have no idea why this took me literally a month and a half to write but I hope the wait was worth it <3 please enjoy these assassins being sappy and unbearably in love. thank you as always to @embeanwrites and @snowyathena for reading this through for me!!
part one | part two | part three | part four | bonus episode | Masterlist
The fifteen-hour drive back down to Vegas flew by much faster with you sitting in the passenger seat, Adrian thinks.
The mission itself flies by, too. Five days ago, he laid just like this in this stupid motel room bed, in silent agony, missing you, dreading the silent, lonely nights ahead of him.
Now, he lies here with you sat astride him, stuffed full of his cock, and the bed frame rattles and squeaks, matching your little moans and gasps every time he thrusts up into you, your breasts bouncing, your nails digging into his chest.
“Come on, baby,” he pants. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”
“Ah—oh, god,” you sigh, rolling your hips so Adrian’s cock hits you right where you want it. You fall forward a little, let yourself rest on his chest, and he takes over entirely, grabbing you by the hips, lifting you up and dropping you back down, relishing in the tiny noises that escape you every time he hits you nice and deep.
Lying forward like this, your face hovers just above his, and you lean down the few inches to connect your lips with his. He groans at the back of his throat when your lips trail down his jaw, when your teeth nibble at the skin of his neck.
“I’m gonna—need you to come, baby, please, I need it,” he says over the sound of his hips snapping up into yours. He can feel that you’re close from the way you’re holding yourself so tensely. “Touch yourself for me, you can—”
Your hand works between your bodies, between your legs, right to where you’re joined, and rubs furiously at your clit. “Adrian—Adrian—”
He feels it when you shatter, your entire body trembling, and his own body shudders with pleasure as he topples over the edge right along with you.
“Fuck,” he gasps. You collapse, boneless, on top of him, and his arms come around you to hold you close, tracing gently up and down your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“That’s one way to celebrate a mission well done,” you murmur, and he laughs.
“My favorite way,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “You know that. It’s been torture, without you.”
You kiss his cheek softly. “No more torture.”
“Only the sexy kind,” Adrian grins.
You roll your eyes. “Come on. Let’s clean up before dinner. No funny business in the shower. We don’t have time,” you say firmly.
“Of course not,” Adrian says innocently. He’s lying through his teeth. He knows it, and you do too. There’s absolutely no way he’ll be able to keep his hands off of you, especially when you get out of bed and start walking toward the bathroom with your hips swaying like that, glancing over your shoulder with a teasing look.
“You’re evil,” he says, scrambling after you. Your laughter echoes off the tiled bathroom wall.
An hour later, Adrian is almost fully dressed, in his jeans and socks, picking out a shirt. You’ve got half an hour before you’re due to meet Emilia and Chris for dinner.
“Not-Economos isn’t coming,” Adrian reports, reading a text message from Chris. “Emilia declared the mission over, and he dipped. He’s going back to Evergreen. Not that I blame him.”
“His name is Marcus,” you remind Adrian.
“I really don’t give a fuck,” Adrian says as he responds to Chris’s message. You just shake your head, giggling and digging through your bag for a fresh pair of jeans, clad only in your bra and underwear.
“Hey, Ade?” you ask, your tone curious. He looks up from his phone to see you holding up the dress.
The pretty white one, from your closet. That he’d shoved at the bottom of your bag. His heart picks up speed, and his hands suddenly feel clammy.
“Yeah?” he says, trying to play it cool.
“I know I didn’t pack this for myself,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “You planning to take me on a hot date?”
Adrian’s mouth goes dry, watching you hold the dress up against your body.
Am I actually doing this? he thinks, as he looks at you standing there, half-naked and beautiful and here and his. It was a split-second decision, shoving that dress at the bottom of your bag back in Evergreen. He could play it off now, say he wants to take you dancing, or to a nice dinner. But his eyes flick to your left hand. Your empty ring finger. He imagines a diamond sitting there, sparkling, as your hand clutches the fabric.
He clears his throat and decides.
“Maybe,” he says. “If…if you want.”
“Hmm,” you tease. “I don’t know, where are you taking me?”
Adrian swallows nervously.
“One of the chapels on the Strip,” he says. Hesitant. Hopeful.
You freeze, the floral fabric wrinkling as you clench it in your fists.
“Are you serious?” you ask. There’s something in your voice he hasn’t ever heard before. A little breathy wobble.
Adrian looks at you carefully, the way you’re looking at him with wide eyes. The surprise is written on your face, clear as day, but it’s hard to know what you’re thinking, and it makes him even more nervous. His heart skips, a quick rhythm he feels right at the back of his throat, but—it’s out in the universe now. He can’t take it back.
He doesn’t want to take it back.
“I’ve never been more serious,” he says quietly, even as his voice shakes, setting his phone aside and standing up to walk over to you. Your eyes are glassy as you look up at him, and his hands skate up your waist, your arms, your neck, until his hands cup your cheeks. “I love you. And I just spent—all those weeks alone, and now I know what it’s like. To live without you. And I never want to do it again.”
“You want to…marry me?” you whisper, like you can’t believe it.
“I do,” he says, and you smile, wide and bright, your cheeks smushing a little between his hands.
“Really? You’ve—I mean—we’ve never even talked about it—”
“I know,” he says quickly. “I know I’m springing this on you. I just—I was thinking about it the other night, when me and Peacemaker were out doing touristy shit, and I saw all the couples coming out of the chapels, being happy and in love, and—I wanted to do that. With you.”
“I want that too,” you say softly. “I want to marry you, Adrian.”
“Yeah?” he whispers. You nod, and he smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he laughs. “Really?”
“Really,” you say. “Let’s get married.”
“It doesn’t have to be here, or now,” Adrian says. “It can just be the two of us at the courthouse in Evergreen for all I care. Or—I am technically ordained. I did it online a couple years ago when I was bored. But I don’t know if I’m allowed to marry myself? I mean, not marry myself, but marry myself, you know—”
“No,” you interrupt. “Now. Today. Well—not today. Tomorrow. We need to call John and Ads, and give them time to fly down, so they can be here. And—we need to get rings, and I love you, baby, but you are not wearing the Vigilante suit at the altar—”
“Why not? It’s the nicest outfit I own!”
“You literally killed someone last night. It’s covered in blood.”
“Oh. Right,” he says. “I guess I can probably rent a suit or something, right? Maybe a teal bow tie?” His question is hopeful. You giggle.
“I wouldn’t expect any other color.”
“We’re really doing this?” Adrian asks, because he needs to make sure. That this moment is happening, that this is real.
“Ask me,” you say. “Say the words.”
Adrian’s smile widens. “Will you marry m—”
You cut him off with a kiss, dropping the white dress to the floor so you can wrap your arms around his neck and hitch yourself higher. He does what you’re wordlessly asking, lifting you in his arms, and your legs wrap around his waist as your lips move against his. You’re saying something between kisses, in tiny, quiet gasps.
“Yes,” you say, and Adrian’s heart sings. “Yes, yes, yes—”
Then you’re reaching down, pulling at his belt, unzipping his pants, shoving them down to his ankles. He grinds against you, he can’t help it, walking you back against the wall, and you whine.
“Please,” you say. “God, please—”
Adrian shoves your underwear aside and pushes into you, a slick, smooth slide, and he fucks you right there against the wall in frenzied thrusts that knock his glasses askew. You pull his mouth to yours and kiss him, let him swallow every sound you make, every word of praise you breathe.
“So good to me,” you say. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” he gasps into your mouth. “God, I fucking love you.”
Your head falls back against the wall when you come, fluttering around his cock, and he spills into you almost immediately after, hot pleasure rushing through him.
Fifteen minutes later, you’re cleaning yourselves up, almost certainly going to be late for dinner, but you can’t bring yourselves to care. You keep stopping, pausing for one more kiss, and it takes longer than usual for you to pull your clothes on and make yourself presentable.
“Are you sure?” Adrian says, checking in one last time before you go. “I mean it. We don’t have to do this now. We can wait. Have a big, fancy ceremony, and get you a nice expensive sparkly dress, and a cake with like, ten layers—I can make Chris and Economos wear bowties, and maybe Eagly could be our ringbearer—”
“I don’t need any of that,” you say softly. “I just need you. And our friends. But I don’t care about all the rest. I just want to be with you, for the rest of my life.”
On the walk to the restaurant, you call Ads. Adrian can hear her screeching in your ear even from several feet away, and he laughs.
“You’ll be here, right?” you ask. “You and John. I need a maid of honor. Yes, you. Oh, Ads, don’t cry—”
Meanwhile, Adrian calls Economos.
“Hey, Adrian,” he answers. “What’s up? I don’t have time for an animal quiz today, I gotta—”
“Ads is gonna book you a flight to Vegas,” Adrian interrupts.
“I—what?”
“We’re getting married,” Adrian says, and Economos makes a choking noise.
“What?”
“I mean, we’re not getting married. I’m not marrying you,” Adrian clarifies. “Obviously. I’m marrying my girlfriend. My fiancee. Who I love very much. Everyone else is coming, so you have to be there too.”
“Jesus Christ,” Economos says. “I knew what you meant, dude. But holy shit, you’re not kidding? Okay. Um. Fuck. I guess I’ll drop everything in my entire life and hop on a last-minute flight to Vegas because I have nothing better to do—”
“You don’t have anything better to do,” Adrian says, confused. “You don’t have a life.”
“Fuck you,” Economos says, but he’s laughing. “Goddamnit. I guess I have to go pack a bag. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Adrian says brightly. “See you tomorrow!”
When you sit down at the dinner table, Adrian doesn’t even give Harcourt time to criticize you both for being ten minutes late.
“We’re staying an extra day,” Adrian declares, sliding out your chair for you and then plopping down into his own with a huge smile.
“Five days ago, you were ready to quit your job because you wanted to not be here so badly,” Chris says. “What gives?”
“I didn’t miss home, I missed her,” Adrian says simply. “And we’re staying for a reason. Actually, you need to stay too, so you can be here. You were included in the ‘we.’ Ads and Economos are coming down, we just talked to them on the walk over here.”
“Ads and John are coming? To Vegas?” Emilia clarifies, brows furrowed.
“For what?” Chris asks, similarly bewildered. “The mission is done. I mean, we can have a bomb ass 11th Street Kids reunion and get plastered at the casino. You don’t need to ask me twice. But we can also get plastered on the roof of Emilia’s apartment building for a lot cheaper.”
You reach for Adrian’s hand on top of the table, a tiny smile on your face. He rubs his thumb over the empty spot on your ring finger. Emilia watches the movement with sharp eyes.
“Holy shit,” she says. “You’re not.”
You smile. “We are.”
“You’re what?” Chris says, looking around the table at each of you in turn.
“Oh my god,” Emlia says, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”
“What are you holy shitting about!” Chris cries.
“They’re getting married!”
Chris’s eyes go wide, and he looks to Adrian for confirmation, but he’s too busy staring at you, all love-struck and smiley.
“Dude! Why didn’t you fucking tell me! I’m your BFF!”
“It was a spur of the moment thing!” Adrian says.
“What the fuck!” Chris sputters. “Well—fine. I’m gonna be your best man, though, right?”
“Obviously,” Adrian says.
“And I asked Ads to be my maid of honor. They’ll be here tomorrow afternoon,” you add, smiling.
Emilia shakes her head. “Holy shit. Oh my god. This is crazy. I mean, it’s not crazy. I know you guys love each other. Well. It’s a little bit crazy, but Adrian is a little bit crazy, so really, what am I expecting here?”
“Aw man, Eagly’s gonna miss it,” Chris sighs. “He could have been your ringbearer or something.”
“That’s what I said!” Adrian exclaims.
“Shut the fuck up, Chris,” Emilia sighs, and you just laugh.
“Isn’t it bad luck to spend the night together before the wedding?” Emilia teases at the end of the night. You giggle, but Adrian frowns.
“That’s a tradition rooted in misogyny,” Adrian says matter-of-factly. “And respectfully, I think I’ve spent enough nights sleeping alone recently.”
“Fair enough,” Chris notes.
“Too many wedding traditions are about owning women,” Adrian continues. “Like someone walking the bride down the aisle to ‘give her away.’ She’s not an object!”
“Thank you for respecting my autonomy, honey.” He beams at you. “I still think we should do something the old-fashioned way,” you say.
“Well, you’re gonna wear a white dress,” Adrian says. “Which is supposed to symbolize purity or some bullshit like that. Obviously I don’t care about that, I mean, literally this morning we were—”
Emilia slaps him on the back of the head before he can finish his sentence, and you laugh.
“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?” you suggest. “No misogyny or bullshit there. That’s just for luck, I think.”
He tilts his head thoughtfully. “Does teal count as blue? Or green? I want a teal bowtie.”
“I think the bride is supposed to have all four things,” Emilia says.
“More misogyny,” Adrian says. “Why does she need to carry the weight of superstition on her shoulders? This is a partnership. We shoulder all burdens equally.”
Chris rolls his eyes. “Yes, Adrian, teal is blue.”
“Perfect! And you already have a white dress, babe. What year did you buy it?”
“Why?”
“We need to know if it’s old or not.”
“I think the fact that it was buried at the back of the closet qualifies it in the ‘old’ category.” You giggle at Adrian’s thoughtful concentration. When his mind is set to something, he takes it incredibly seriously.
“I’ve got something you can borrow,” Chris tells Adrian.
“What is it?” Adrian asks excitedly.
“It’s a surprise.”
“I love surprises!” Adrian says excitedly.
“I know,” Chris says. “It’s almost like—get this—I’m going to be your best man for a reason.”
“So if you’re going to shoulder all burdens equally,” Emilia says dramatically, looking at you with a smirk, “that means we get to go shopping tonight for ‘something new.’ What are you thinking? Accessories? Something for your hair, or a bracelet?”
“I’ve got an idea,” you smile, and Adrian immediately opens his mouth to ask what it is, but you interrupt. “It’s a surprise.”
“Two surprises in one day,” Adrian says. “And I’m getting married? Tomorrow is going to be the best fucking day ever.”
“I’ll go with you,” Emilia says. “We can go buy whatever you’re thinking, and then we can meet Chris and Adrian at one of the casinos for one last drink before we turn in for the night.”
“Wait,” Adrian pouts. “Without me?”
“How is it going to be a surprise if you come with me?” you ask.
Adrian looks torn between wanting to cling to your hand for the rest of the night and getting his surprise tomorrow. He hasn’t let you out of his sight since the day he drove fifteen hours straight to get home to you after five weeks of being apart. You’ve been within arms’ reach for almost an entire week, and the idea of you watching you walk away from him, even for just a few hours, makes his chest feel tight with panic. You can see it in his eyes, and you cup his cheek in one hand and kiss him softly.
“I’ll be with Em. You’ll be with Chris. I am not leaving Vegas, you are not leaving Vegas. No more missions. We’re together. I’m not leaving you.”
Adrian takes a shaky breath.
“I know,” he says quietly. “Just…be quick?”
“Two hours,” you promise, and he nods.
“Okay,” he says. “Here.” He opens his wallet and pulls out a wad of cash.
“What—”
“To buy your something new,” he says, shoving the money into your hands.
“You’re ridiculous,” you say, but you take the money, because he’ll argue with you if you don’t. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.” You pull out your phone and set a two-hour timer, holding it up for him to see, and watch a little bit more tension drain out of him.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you too,” you say, and you kiss him again. “And when I get back, we’ll go pick out our rings, okay?”
“Ooh! Can I bring my Vigilante gloves with me? Maybe they can, like, embroider the left one—”
“Embroider your glove?”
“With some silver thread or something,” he nods. “The people need to know that Vigilante is off the market. Even the criminals should know that I’m taken, babe.”
Chris rolls his eyes. You just kiss your fiance and smile.
The next morning feels weirdly normal. Adrian wakes up with you curled around him, and he feels so fucking grateful for it, because the memory of an empty bed is still fresh in his mind. You’re still sleeping. He closes his eyes and pulls you closer.
But then you’re kissing him, softly, and he smiles as he realizes you’re awake after all.
“Good morning,” you say, your voice all raspy from sleep. He pulls you on top of him. He’s been doing that all week, using you like a blanket, your weight pressing him down into the mattress, comforting and secure.
Adrian opens his eyes when you laugh. You’re a little blurry. He hasn’t put his glasses on yet. You can tell he’s squinting, and you reach over to the bedside table, then slide them on his face for him. He steals another kiss after you do, then checks his phone.
“Can you believe we’re getting married in seven hours, twenty-nine minutes, and forty-one seconds?” he asks, grinning.
“What?” you ask, bewildered that he’s keeping track down to the second, but he misunderstands your confusion.
“You did agree to marry me yesterday, didn’t you?” he says, a little uncertain. “I made an appointment on my phone last night. Unless—you’re not sure? We don’t have to—”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” you interrupt quickly, putting a few fingers over his mouth to stop him talking. He can’t help himself. He kisses your hand, and you smile. “I just—how do you know down to the second?”
“It’s kinda one of the greatest, most important things that’s ever going to happen to me,” he says, trying and failing to sound casual and chill about it when in fact he’s ready to vibrate out of his skin and take you right with him, levitating from the sheer power of his excitement and joy right down the street and through the doors of the chapel.
“You’re such a sap,” you say, but your eyes are shining, and the way you’re smiling at him makes his heart flutter in his chest.
“I’m allowed to be sappy. We’re getting married today,” he says, beaming.
“We’re getting married today,” you repeat, beaming back, just as bright. “Shall we?”
Adrian expects the day to drag, but he’s too busy to watch the clock. The two of you go with Chris and Emilia to pick up Ads and Economos from the airport, and for the first time in months, all of the 11th Street Kids are in one place at the same time.
When you go grab lunch, you stop at a cheap fast-food joint with outdoor picnic tables where you can sit for a while and chat. But it’s not a quick bite. You spend hours there, catching up over too-salty fries, baking in the hot sun, laughing so loud you’re drawing attention to yourselves. Adrian looks around the table and feels so fucking happy he thinks he might explode. All of his favorite people in the whole world are here with him right now, and he gets to marry you today.
Between the trip to the airport and lunch, five hours have passed, and before Adrian knows it, the girls are whisking you off to get you dressed and ready for the evening.
“I’ll see you later,” you say as Ads drags you away into your motel room. Adrian watches you go and feels the familiar pang in his chest that comes with being apart from you, but the ache is soothed with the knowledge that the next time he sees you, you’ll be walking down the street together to the chapel.
He ends up in Chris and Emilia’s motel room with Chris and John, getting ready himself, and when he looks at the clock and realizes there’s only two hours before your appointment time, he’s surprised.
He’s been waiting for the panic to set in all day. That’s what happens in the movies. People get nervous before they get married. It’s a big commitment, it’s a big life decision. But it doesn’t feel like that, not for him.
Adrian decided a long, long time ago that you were it for him. Today, you’re just signing a piece of paper to make it official. He’ll tell you in front of his friends exactly how much you mean to him. But he’s done that dozens of times before. He tells you he loves you constantly. And he knows that you love him, too.
“I promised you something borrowed,” Chris says. He holds out a box for Adrian. “John stopped at the house to pick these up for me before he came down here.”
Adrian cracks open the box, and there’s a pair of silver cufflinks in the shape of Chris’s signature dove of peace.
“Thank you,” Adrian says, and before he can even get properly all choked up about it, Chris is rolling his eyes.
“Don’t be a pussy about it. Just put them on.”
When you text him that you’re ready about an hour later, Adrian nearly trips over himself with eagerness. Chris and John look at him, bewildered, when he rushes out of the motel room and down just a few doors to his own room where you’ve been getting dressed. They watch him knock furiously with fond exasperation.
“He’s so…” John starts.
“Whipped?” Chris suggests.
“Sure, let’s go with that. Just don’t let him hear you say it. He would probably misread a social cue and make it about like, BDSM or something.”
When you open the door, Adrian stares. Ads and Emilia have helped tame your hair into a stunning style, the floral white dress flatters your form absolutely perfectly, and—
“I am so fucking in love with you,” he says. “Fuck. How are you so pretty—”
He reaches for your face to kiss you, but Emilia slaps his hands away.
“You’re gonna fuck up her makeup.”
“Ask me if I give a shit,” Adrian retorts, and he kisses you anyway while you laugh at him.
He does, in fact, smudge your lipstick a little. Once Adrian finally lets you go, Ads rolls her eyes and carefully fixes it as best she can.
As she does, Adrian’s eyes latch onto the sparkling silver necklace at your throat. He reaches for it, picks the charm up between his thumb and forefinger. A tiny letter A. When he swallows, his throat feels tight.
“When did you—”
“My something new,” you say, smiling softly at him as Ads steps back, satisfied with her work.
“Oh,” he says, his own goofy smile growing on his face. “A for—”
“Adrian, yes,” you giggle. “I thought about a V, maybe, for Vigilante, but—”
“It’s perfect,” Adrian interrupts, his voice cracking a bit. “You’re perfect. I’m so happy that I get to marry you, baby.” He goes to kiss you again, and Ads grabs him by the back of the collar.
“I just fixed her makeup, Adrian—”
“Save the sappy speeches,” Chris says from the doorway. “We don’t want to be late.”
Adrian snaps to attention. “No. We should be early, actually. Maybe they’ll get us in quicker—”
“He’s gonna fucking run down the aisle,” John laughs.
Adrian doesn’t run down the aisle. If you were at the end of it, waiting for him, he absolutely would have. But instead, you walk down the aisle together, hands laced tightly, both of you beaming and giggling like idiots the whole way to the altar.
“You’d never guess they were fucking assassins,” John mutters to Emilia, who just smiles and shakes her head.
“Even people surrounded by death all the time deserve a little happiness,” she murmurs.
And you are. The both of you. Happier than you’ve ever been, because you love each other. Adrian has known for ages now that he was going to love you forever, but now—there’s something special about it. Setting it in stone, making it official. Being able to call you his wife instead of his girlfriend, being able to look at the wedding ring he’s going to place on your finger
He’s so caught up in it all—his imaginings of that future—that before he knows it, the officiant is done with his cookie-cutter speech, and offering the floor to the both of you to share your vows, gesturing for you to speak.
You offer Adrian a nervous half-smile and he squeezes your hands. The light in his eyes washes all of your worry away.
“The day I met you, I didn’t even see your face,” you begin. “All I knew was the man behind the mask. I knew you were funny, and brave, and righteous, and a little bit of an idiot, and part of me knew, from that very first week, that I wanted you to be my idiot. Forever. I trusted you to have my back in the field for years, and I have trusted you with my heart for almost as long, and you have done nothing but pour love and laughter into my life. I am so grateful for you, Adrian, and I love you. I will continue to love you for the rest of my life, and I will show you that love every day. No matter how far away we are.”
“When I was growing up, I never thought I’d love anyone like this,” Adrian says, a little choked up. “And now that I do, it’s the most special thing, and Chris might be my best friend, but you are my best best friend, in the whole wide world, and you are so funny and badass and hot and every time I look at you I just feel so—lucky, and every day that I wake up and I get to love you is the best day of my life, and I never want to be without you.” He takes a deep breath after his rambling confession.
The officiant gestures for John and Emilia to step forward. They each hand you something—the rings that you and Adrian had picked out the night prior. Simple, silver bands.
Adrian had wanted to get you something flashier, but you’d reminded him that you were both assassins for a living and you often worked with your hands. A lot of the time, the ring would be living on the new chain around your neck, hiding beneath your shirt right beside the tiny silver letter A. A big diamond would get caught on your clothes and in your hair.
You take the rings now from your friends and slide them onto each other’s left hands. Then your hands come up to cup Adrian’s face, framing his bright, boyish smile that widens even further when he feels the cool metal of your wedding band pressing against his cheeks.
You turn to the officiant. “Can I kiss him now? While you do the boring part?”
The man shrugs. “Be my guest.”
Somewhere in the background, you register the words as the officiant pronounces you husband and wife. Hear the sniffles that Ads and John try to hide, the clapping from Emilia, the wolf whistle from Chris.
You’re too busy kissing your husband to care about any of it.
Several hours later, tipsy and tired, you and Adrian stumble toward your motel room, giggling between kisses. It takes him three tries to get the electronic lock to work because he’s so distracted by your lips on his neck, sending bolts of heat shooting down his spine. He hums and tilts his head to give you better access as the door finally opens.
You start to step inside, but he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you into his chest.
“No,” he says. “I’m supposed to—to do a thing. Carry you.”
“Bridal style?”
“Yeah,” he says. “You’re a bride. My bride. I gotta do my duty. I will not fail at husbanding within the first six hours.”
“I think that’s for when we get home,” you laugh. “And I don’t think husbanding is a verb, baby.”
“Humor me,” he says, picking you up anyway, sending you into another fit of giggles. He steps over the threshold with a goofy smile and then sets you down on the bed and shuts the door behind him. “Okay. All done.”
“Thank you, my love,” you say dramatically.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Chase,” he teases, leaning over you on the mattress, and then he makes a face. “Ew. Sorry. I wanted that to be sexy, it is not sexy. I’m just thinking about my fucking mom now. Gross.”
“You’re gonna have to tell her,” you point out.
“Not tonight, I’m not,” he says. “Tonight, I am going to make love to my wife, and tomorrow we are going to go home and stay home for several weeks and not talk to anybody except each other, because the rest of the world got to have you for five fucking weeks straight and it’s my turn to be alone with my wife.”
He’s been calling you that all night. Every bartender, every stranger on the street, even to Chris and Emilia and John and Ads, like they don’t know who you are already. The words feel magical on his tongue. He’s not sure he’ll ever get sick of them.
“You’re all mine,” you say. “No missions. No interruptions. Just us.”
You reach up for his bowtie and pull it loose, dropping it on the floor, then push his unbuttoned, already-disheveled suit jacket off his shoulders. His cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, his mouth hanging open, reaching forward for your lips, but your duck your head to the side, kissing at his neck instead. He groans.
“You’re so handsome,” you say, nibbling at his jaw as you unbutton his shirt. “How are you so handsome? I’m so lucky.”
“You’re so lucky?” he says incredulously, hands trailing up your thighs. “I’m so lucky. The luckiest guy on the fucking planet. With the most badass, beautiful wife ever. I love you so much.”
“Are you gonna take my clothes off or what? I feel like I’m doing all the work here.”
“I get to see you naked all the time. I only get to fuck my wife in her wedding dress once,” he says. He’s not even smug about it. He’s just—earnest, excited. He just wants you. And you want him just as bad.
He’s just a little bit drunk, maybe, he thinks to himself, the world all hazy and warm. He can’t stop smiling, giggling, and neither can you, the both of you feeding on each other’s joy, amplifying it back in an echo chamber that makes his chest feel tight, like he can’t physically hold in all the love he has for you.
“Do whatever you want with me,” you groan. “Just fucking touch me already.”
Adrian scrambles for your underwear, tugging it down your legs in what he wanted to be a swift movement, but ends up being clumsy. Still, as he dips down to eagerly lick at your slick pussy, you whimper—no matter how clumsy he might be right now, he knows you, knows your body, like the back of his own hand, and it takes him no time at all to work you up to your peak, until your thighs are trembling around his head and his glasses are fogging up.
When you come, tiny gasps of pleasure spill from the back of your throat, and Adrian feels a strange, possessive feeling take over him as he realizes that he is the only one who will ever get to hear you make these noises. Who will ever make you feel this way. You’re his, now, forever, and no one else can ever take you away from him.
“I just can’t believe I get to keep you,” he murmurs, kissing up your body—your belly, your breasts, your neck, until he finally reaches your mouth, delving his tongue inside to meet yours. It’s sloppy. It’s greedy. It’s perfect.
You unbuckle his belt to shove his pants down his thighs, and Adrian groans when his cock springs free and you wrap your hand around him, pumping. He’s already rock hard, leaking precum everywhere, and if he doesn’t fuck you in the next ten seconds, this will be over before it even starts.
He places his hands on your upper thighs, pushing the skirt of your dress up out of the way, and spreads your legs so he has room to settle between them. You lay back on the mattress, watching him, pupils blown so wide he wouldn’t even know what they looked like if he hadn’t spent hours of time staring at your face, admiring every fleck of color in them.
Adrian gives you no warning when he pushes into you, and your eyes flutter shut, thighs tightening around his waist. He thrusts into you with practiced movements, relishing in the fact that he knows your body so well. Knows the exact angle that will hit that sweet sensitive spot inside you, knows exactly how fast and hard you like it. Knows exactly when you’re moments away from your second orgasm, because you start clenching around his cock in that familiar way, tight and warm and perfect.
This time, when you come, Adrian is seconds behind you, his thrusts losing rhythm as he falls over the edge and spills into you. He drops to his elbows until he’s covering you with his whole body, his face hovering right above yours, breaths mingling.
“I love you,” you say, reaching for his left hand. He gives it to you, beaming as you kiss the cool metal of his wedding band. He returns the favor, ducking his head down to kiss the pendant of your new necklace.
“I love you too,” he says. “So fucking much.”
Tomorrow, you’ll head back home with your friends. Next week, you’ll be back at work, doing what you both do best—maiming and killing and whatever needs to be done for the good of your missions. But right now, there’s this. There’s the two of you, joined together, married. And with you, Adrian knows he’s ready to tackle whatever comes along next.
had an INSANE dream last night that HBO silently dropped a third season of Peacemaker??? like I was looking for something to watch with some friends and it popped up and I was like “everyone shut the hell up we have to watch this right the fuck now”
it mostly had dream logic but the general plot seemed to be that Checkmate was dealing with a criminal shapeshifter (not sure what the crimes were lol) BUT the shapeshifter disguised themself as Chris? so none of them had even realized Chris was gone because here was this person wearing his skin.
and Adrian kept being like…”no guys something’s wrong that’s not Chris” but no one would listen to him.
anyway, James Gunn please return my family from war I am clearly starved
synopsis: Adrian's neverending streak of back to back missions is finally over. Now that he knows what it's like to be without you, he never wants to feel like that again. Luckily, there's a chapel right down the block where he can make you his for good.
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, FLUFF (literally so much fluff), SMUT (piv sex in multiple positions, oral f!receiving), marriage proposal, wedding!!, 11th Street Kids cameos, Adrian is so in love it's sickening
word count: 6.1k
notes: IT IS FINALLY HERE! I have no idea why this took me literally a month and a half to write but I hope the wait was worth it <3 please enjoy these assassins being sappy and unbearably in love. thank you as always to @embeanwrites and @snowyathena for reading this through for me!!
part one | part two | part three | part four | bonus episode | Masterlist
The fifteen-hour drive back down to Vegas flew by much faster with you sitting in the passenger seat, Adrian thinks.
The mission itself flies by, too. Five days ago, he laid just like this in this stupid motel room bed, in silent agony, missing you, dreading the silent, lonely nights ahead of him.
Now, he lies here with you sat astride him, stuffed full of his cock, and the bed frame rattles and squeaks, matching your little moans and gasps every time he thrusts up into you, your breasts bouncing, your nails digging into his chest.
“Come on, baby,” he pants. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”
“Ah—oh, god,” you sigh, rolling your hips so Adrian’s cock hits you right where you want it. You fall forward a little, let yourself rest on his chest, and he takes over entirely, grabbing you by the hips, lifting you up and dropping you back down, relishing in the tiny noises that escape you every time he hits you nice and deep.
Lying forward like this, your face hovers just above his, and you lean down the few inches to connect your lips with his. He groans at the back of his throat when your lips trail down his jaw, when your teeth nibble at the skin of his neck.
“I’m gonna—need you to come, baby, please, I need it,” he says over the sound of his hips snapping up into yours. He can feel that you’re close from the way you’re holding yourself so tensely. “Touch yourself for me, you can—”
Your hand works between your bodies, between your legs, right to where you’re joined, and rubs furiously at your clit. “Adrian—Adrian—”
He feels it when you shatter, your entire body trembling, and his own body shudders with pleasure as he topples over the edge right along with you.
“Fuck,” he gasps. You collapse, boneless, on top of him, and his arms come around you to hold you close, tracing gently up and down your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“That’s one way to celebrate a mission well done,” you murmur, and he laughs.
“My favorite way,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “You know that. It’s been torture, without you.”
You kiss his cheek softly. “No more torture.”
“Only the sexy kind,” Adrian grins.
You roll your eyes. “Come on. Let’s clean up before dinner. No funny business in the shower. We don’t have time,” you say firmly.
“Of course not,” Adrian says innocently. He’s lying through his teeth. He knows it, and you do too. There’s absolutely no way he’ll be able to keep his hands off of you, especially when you get out of bed and start walking toward the bathroom with your hips swaying like that, glancing over your shoulder with a teasing look.
“You’re evil,” he says, scrambling after you. Your laughter echoes off the tiled bathroom wall.
An hour later, Adrian is almost fully dressed, in his jeans and socks, picking out a shirt. You’ve got half an hour before you’re due to meet Emilia and Chris for dinner.
“Not-Economos isn’t coming,” Adrian reports, reading a text message from Chris. “Emilia declared the mission over, and he dipped. He’s going back to Evergreen. Not that I blame him.”
“His name is Marcus,” you remind Adrian.
“I really don’t give a fuck,” Adrian says as he responds to Chris’s message. You just shake your head, giggling and digging through your bag for a fresh pair of jeans, clad only in your bra and underwear.
“Hey, Ade?” you ask, your tone curious. He looks up from his phone to see you holding up the dress.
The pretty white one, from your closet. That he’d shoved at the bottom of your bag. His heart picks up speed, and his hands suddenly feel clammy.
“Yeah?” he says, trying to play it cool.
“I know I didn’t pack this for myself,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “You planning to take me on a hot date?”
Adrian’s mouth goes dry, watching you hold the dress up against your body.
Am I actually doing this? he thinks, as he looks at you standing there, half-naked and beautiful and here and his. It was a split-second decision, shoving that dress at the bottom of your bag back in Evergreen. He could play it off now, say he wants to take you dancing, or to a nice dinner. But his eyes flick to your left hand. Your empty ring finger. He imagines a diamond sitting there, sparkling, as your hand clutches the fabric.
He clears his throat and decides.
“Maybe,” he says. “If…if you want.”
“Hmm,” you tease. “I don’t know, where are you taking me?”
Adrian swallows nervously.
“One of the chapels on the Strip,” he says. Hesitant. Hopeful.
You freeze, the floral fabric wrinkling as you clench it in your fists.
“Are you serious?” you ask. There’s something in your voice he hasn’t ever heard before. A little breathy wobble.
Adrian looks at you carefully, the way you’re looking at him with wide eyes. The surprise is written on your face, clear as day, but it’s hard to know what you’re thinking, and it makes him even more nervous. His heart skips, a quick rhythm he feels right at the back of his throat, but—it’s out in the universe now. He can’t take it back.
He doesn’t want to take it back.
“I’ve never been more serious,” he says quietly, even as his voice shakes, setting his phone aside and standing up to walk over to you. Your eyes are glassy as you look up at him, and his hands skate up your waist, your arms, your neck, until his hands cup your cheeks. “I love you. And I just spent—all those weeks alone, and now I know what it’s like. To live without you. And I never want to do it again.”
“You want to…marry me?” you whisper, like you can’t believe it.
“I do,” he says, and you smile, wide and bright, your cheeks smushing a little between his hands.
“Really? You’ve—I mean—we’ve never even talked about it—”
“I know,” he says quickly. “I know I’m springing this on you. I just—I was thinking about it the other night, when me and Peacemaker were out doing touristy shit, and I saw all the couples coming out of the chapels, being happy and in love, and—I wanted to do that. With you.”
“I want that too,” you say softly. “I want to marry you, Adrian.”
“Yeah?” he whispers. You nod, and he smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he laughs. “Really?”
“Really,” you say. “Let’s get married.”
“It doesn’t have to be here, or now,” Adrian says. “It can just be the two of us at the courthouse in Evergreen for all I care. Or—I am technically ordained. I did it online a couple years ago when I was bored. But I don’t know if I’m allowed to marry myself? I mean, not marry myself, but marry myself, you know—”
“No,” you interrupt. “Now. Today. Well—not today. Tomorrow. We need to call John and Ads, and give them time to fly down, so they can be here. And—we need to get rings, and I love you, baby, but you are not wearing the Vigilante suit at the altar—”
“Why not? It’s the nicest outfit I own!”
“You literally killed someone last night. It’s covered in blood.”
“Oh. Right,” he says. “I guess I can probably rent a suit or something, right? Maybe a teal bow tie?” His question is hopeful. You giggle.
“I wouldn’t expect any other color.”
“We’re really doing this?” Adrian asks, because he needs to make sure. That this moment is happening, that this is real.
“Ask me,” you say. “Say the words.”
Adrian’s smile widens. “Will you marry m—”
You cut him off with a kiss, dropping the white dress to the floor so you can wrap your arms around his neck and hitch yourself higher. He does what you’re wordlessly asking, lifting you in his arms, and your legs wrap around his waist as your lips move against his. You’re saying something between kisses, in tiny, quiet gasps.
“Yes,” you say, and Adrian’s heart sings. “Yes, yes, yes—”
Then you’re reaching down, pulling at his belt, unzipping his pants, shoving them down to his ankles. He grinds against you, he can’t help it, walking you back against the wall, and you whine.
“Please,” you say. “God, please—”
Adrian shoves your underwear aside and pushes into you, a slick, smooth slide, and he fucks you right there against the wall in frenzied thrusts that knock his glasses askew. You pull his mouth to yours and kiss him, let him swallow every sound you make, every word of praise you breathe.
“So good to me,” you say. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” he gasps into your mouth. “God, I fucking love you.”
Your head falls back against the wall when you come, fluttering around his cock, and he spills into you almost immediately after, hot pleasure rushing through him.
Fifteen minutes later, you’re cleaning yourselves up, almost certainly going to be late for dinner, but you can’t bring yourselves to care. You keep stopping, pausing for one more kiss, and it takes longer than usual for you to pull your clothes on and make yourself presentable.
“Are you sure?” Adrian says, checking in one last time before you go. “I mean it. We don’t have to do this now. We can wait. Have a big, fancy ceremony, and get you a nice expensive sparkly dress, and a cake with like, ten layers—I can make Chris and Economos wear bowties, and maybe Eagly could be our ringbearer—”
“I don’t need any of that,” you say softly. “I just need you. And our friends. But I don’t care about all the rest. I just want to be with you, for the rest of my life.”
On the walk to the restaurant, you call Ads. Adrian can hear her screeching in your ear even from several feet away, and he laughs.
“You’ll be here, right?” you ask. “You and John. I need a maid of honor. Yes, you. Oh, Ads, don’t cry—”
Meanwhile, Adrian calls Economos.
“Hey, Adrian,” he answers. “What’s up? I don’t have time for an animal quiz today, I gotta—”
“Ads is gonna book you a flight to Vegas,” Adrian interrupts.
“I—what?”
“We’re getting married,” Adrian says, and Economos makes a choking noise.
“What?”
“I mean, we’re not getting married. I’m not marrying you,” Adrian clarifies. “Obviously. I’m marrying my girlfriend. My fiancee. Who I love very much. Everyone else is coming, so you have to be there too.”
“Jesus Christ,” Economos says. “I knew what you meant, dude. But holy shit, you’re not kidding? Okay. Um. Fuck. I guess I’ll drop everything in my entire life and hop on a last-minute flight to Vegas because I have nothing better to do—”
“You don’t have anything better to do,” Adrian says, confused. “You don’t have a life.”
“Fuck you,” Economos says, but he’s laughing. “Goddamnit. I guess I have to go pack a bag. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Adrian says brightly. “See you tomorrow!”
When you sit down at the dinner table, Adrian doesn’t even give Harcourt time to criticize you both for being ten minutes late.
“We’re staying an extra day,” Adrian declares, sliding out your chair for you and then plopping down into his own with a huge smile.
“Five days ago, you were ready to quit your job because you wanted to not be here so badly,” Chris says. “What gives?”
“I didn’t miss home, I missed her,” Adrian says simply. “And we’re staying for a reason. Actually, you need to stay too, so you can be here. You were included in the ‘we.’ Ads and Economos are coming down, we just talked to them on the walk over here.”
“Ads and John are coming? To Vegas?” Emilia clarifies, brows furrowed.
“For what?” Chris asks, similarly bewildered. “The mission is done. I mean, we can have a bomb ass 11th Street Kids reunion and get plastered at the casino. You don’t need to ask me twice. But we can also get plastered on the roof of Emilia’s apartment building for a lot cheaper.”
You reach for Adrian’s hand on top of the table, a tiny smile on your face. He rubs his thumb over the empty spot on your ring finger. Emilia watches the movement with sharp eyes.
“Holy shit,” she says. “You’re not.”
You smile. “We are.”
“You’re what?” Chris says, looking around the table at each of you in turn.
“Oh my god,” Emlia says, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”
“What are you holy shitting about!” Chris cries.
“They’re getting married!”
Chris’s eyes go wide, and he looks to Adrian for confirmation, but he’s too busy staring at you, all love-struck and smiley.
“Dude! Why didn’t you fucking tell me! I’m your BFF!”
“It was a spur of the moment thing!” Adrian says.
“What the fuck!” Chris sputters. “Well—fine. I’m gonna be your best man, though, right?”
“Obviously,” Adrian says.
“And I asked Ads to be my maid of honor. They’ll be here tomorrow afternoon,” you add, smiling.
Emilia shakes her head. “Holy shit. Oh my god. This is crazy. I mean, it’s not crazy. I know you guys love each other. Well. It’s a little bit crazy, but Adrian is a little bit crazy, so really, what am I expecting here?”
“Aw man, Eagly’s gonna miss it,” Chris sighs. “He could have been your ringbearer or something.”
“That’s what I said!” Adrian exclaims.
“Shut the fuck up, Chris,” Emilia sighs, and you just laugh.
“Isn’t it bad luck to spend the night together before the wedding?” Emilia teases at the end of the night. You giggle, but Adrian frowns.
“That’s a tradition rooted in misogyny,” Adrian says matter-of-factly. “And respectfully, I think I’ve spent enough nights sleeping alone recently.”
“Fair enough,” Chris notes.
“Too many wedding traditions are about owning women,” Adrian continues. “Like someone walking the bride down the aisle to ‘give her away.’ She’s not an object!”
“Thank you for respecting my autonomy, honey.” He beams at you. “I still think we should do something the old-fashioned way,” you say.
“Well, you’re gonna wear a white dress,” Adrian says. “Which is supposed to symbolize purity or some bullshit like that. Obviously I don’t care about that, I mean, literally this morning we were—”
Emilia slaps him on the back of the head before he can finish his sentence, and you laugh.
“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?” you suggest. “No misogyny or bullshit there. That’s just for luck, I think.”
He tilts his head thoughtfully. “Does teal count as blue? Or green? I want a teal bowtie.”
“I think the bride is supposed to have all four things,” Emilia says.
“More misogyny,” Adrian says. “Why does she need to carry the weight of superstition on her shoulders? This is a partnership. We shoulder all burdens equally.”
Chris rolls his eyes. “Yes, Adrian, teal is blue.”
“Perfect! And you already have a white dress, babe. What year did you buy it?”
“Why?”
“We need to know if it’s old or not.”
“I think the fact that it was buried at the back of the closet qualifies it in the ‘old’ category.” You giggle at Adrian’s thoughtful concentration. When his mind is set to something, he takes it incredibly seriously.
“I’ve got something you can borrow,” Chris tells Adrian.
“What is it?” Adrian asks excitedly.
“It’s a surprise.”
“I love surprises!” Adrian says excitedly.
“I know,” Chris says. “It’s almost like—get this—I’m going to be your best man for a reason.”
“So if you’re going to shoulder all burdens equally,” Emilia says dramatically, looking at you with a smirk, “that means we get to go shopping tonight for ‘something new.’ What are you thinking? Accessories? Something for your hair, or a bracelet?”
“I’ve got an idea,” you smile, and Adrian immediately opens his mouth to ask what it is, but you interrupt. “It’s a surprise.”
“Two surprises in one day,” Adrian says. “And I’m getting married? Tomorrow is going to be the best fucking day ever.”
“I’ll go with you,” Emilia says. “We can go buy whatever you’re thinking, and then we can meet Chris and Adrian at one of the casinos for one last drink before we turn in for the night.”
“Wait,” Adrian pouts. “Without me?”
“How is it going to be a surprise if you come with me?” you ask.
Adrian looks torn between wanting to cling to your hand for the rest of the night and getting his surprise tomorrow. He hasn’t let you out of his sight since the day he drove fifteen hours straight to get home to you after five weeks of being apart. You’ve been within arms’ reach for almost an entire week, and the idea of you watching you walk away from him, even for just a few hours, makes his chest feel tight with panic. You can see it in his eyes, and you cup his cheek in one hand and kiss him softly.
“I’ll be with Em. You’ll be with Chris. I am not leaving Vegas, you are not leaving Vegas. No more missions. We’re together. I’m not leaving you.”
Adrian takes a shaky breath.
“I know,” he says quietly. “Just…be quick?”
“Two hours,” you promise, and he nods.
“Okay,” he says. “Here.” He opens his wallet and pulls out a wad of cash.
“What—”
“To buy your something new,” he says, shoving the money into your hands.
“You’re ridiculous,” you say, but you take the money, because he’ll argue with you if you don’t. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.” You pull out your phone and set a two-hour timer, holding it up for him to see, and watch a little bit more tension drain out of him.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you too,” you say, and you kiss him again. “And when I get back, we’ll go pick out our rings, okay?”
“Ooh! Can I bring my Vigilante gloves with me? Maybe they can, like, embroider the left one—”
“Embroider your glove?”
“With some silver thread or something,” he nods. “The people need to know that Vigilante is off the market. Even the criminals should know that I’m taken, babe.”
Chris rolls his eyes. You just kiss your fiance and smile.
The next morning feels weirdly normal. Adrian wakes up with you curled around him, and he feels so fucking grateful for it, because the memory of an empty bed is still fresh in his mind. You’re still sleeping. He closes his eyes and pulls you closer.
But then you’re kissing him, softly, and he smiles as he realizes you’re awake after all.
“Good morning,” you say, your voice all raspy from sleep. He pulls you on top of him. He’s been doing that all week, using you like a blanket, your weight pressing him down into the mattress, comforting and secure.
Adrian opens his eyes when you laugh. You’re a little blurry. He hasn’t put his glasses on yet. You can tell he’s squinting, and you reach over to the bedside table, then slide them on his face for him. He steals another kiss after you do, then checks his phone.
“Can you believe we’re getting married in seven hours, twenty-nine minutes, and forty-one seconds?” he asks, grinning.
“What?” you ask, bewildered that he’s keeping track down to the second, but he misunderstands your confusion.
“You did agree to marry me yesterday, didn’t you?” he says, a little uncertain. “I made an appointment on my phone last night. Unless—you’re not sure? We don’t have to—”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” you interrupt quickly, putting a few fingers over his mouth to stop him talking. He can’t help himself. He kisses your hand, and you smile. “I just—how do you know down to the second?”
“It’s kinda one of the greatest, most important things that’s ever going to happen to me,” he says, trying and failing to sound casual and chill about it when in fact he’s ready to vibrate out of his skin and take you right with him, levitating from the sheer power of his excitement and joy right down the street and through the doors of the chapel.
“You’re such a sap,” you say, but your eyes are shining, and the way you’re smiling at him makes his heart flutter in his chest.
“I’m allowed to be sappy. We’re getting married today,” he says, beaming.
“We’re getting married today,” you repeat, beaming back, just as bright. “Shall we?”
Adrian expects the day to drag, but he’s too busy to watch the clock. The two of you go with Chris and Emilia to pick up Ads and Economos from the airport, and for the first time in months, all of the 11th Street Kids are in one place at the same time.
When you go grab lunch, you stop at a cheap fast-food joint with outdoor picnic tables where you can sit for a while and chat. But it’s not a quick bite. You spend hours there, catching up over too-salty fries, baking in the hot sun, laughing so loud you’re drawing attention to yourselves. Adrian looks around the table and feels so fucking happy he thinks he might explode. All of his favorite people in the whole world are here with him right now, and he gets to marry you today.
Between the trip to the airport and lunch, five hours have passed, and before Adrian knows it, the girls are whisking you off to get you dressed and ready for the evening.
“I’ll see you later,” you say as Ads drags you away into your motel room. Adrian watches you go and feels the familiar pang in his chest that comes with being apart from you, but the ache is soothed with the knowledge that the next time he sees you, you’ll be walking down the street together to the chapel.
He ends up in Chris and Emilia’s motel room with Chris and John, getting ready himself, and when he looks at the clock and realizes there’s only two hours before your appointment time, he’s surprised.
He’s been waiting for the panic to set in all day. That’s what happens in the movies. People get nervous before they get married. It’s a big commitment, it’s a big life decision. But it doesn’t feel like that, not for him.
Adrian decided a long, long time ago that you were it for him. Today, you’re just signing a piece of paper to make it official. He’ll tell you in front of his friends exactly how much you mean to him. But he’s done that dozens of times before. He tells you he loves you constantly. And he knows that you love him, too.
“I promised you something borrowed,” Chris says. He holds out a box for Adrian. “John stopped at the house to pick these up for me before he came down here.”
Adrian cracks open the box, and there’s a pair of silver cufflinks in the shape of Chris’s signature dove of peace.
“Thank you,” Adrian says, and before he can even get properly all choked up about it, Chris is rolling his eyes.
“Don’t be a pussy about it. Just put them on.”
When you text him that you’re ready about an hour later, Adrian nearly trips over himself with eagerness. Chris and John look at him, bewildered, when he rushes out of the motel room and down just a few doors to his own room where you’ve been getting dressed. They watch him knock furiously with fond exasperation.
“He’s so…” John starts.
“Whipped?” Chris suggests.
“Sure, let’s go with that. Just don’t let him hear you say it. He would probably misread a social cue and make it about like, BDSM or something.”
When you open the door, Adrian stares. Ads and Emilia have helped tame your hair into a stunning style, the floral white dress flatters your form absolutely perfectly, and—
“I am so fucking in love with you,” he says. “Fuck. How are you so pretty—”
He reaches for your face to kiss you, but Emilia slaps his hands away.
“You’re gonna fuck up her makeup.”
“Ask me if I give a shit,” Adrian retorts, and he kisses you anyway while you laugh at him.
He does, in fact, smudge your lipstick a little. Once Adrian finally lets you go, Ads rolls her eyes and carefully fixes it as best she can.
As she does, Adrian’s eyes latch onto the sparkling silver necklace at your throat. He reaches for it, picks the charm up between his thumb and forefinger. A tiny letter A. When he swallows, his throat feels tight.
“When did you—”
“My something new,” you say, smiling softly at him as Ads steps back, satisfied with her work.
“Oh,” he says, his own goofy smile growing on his face. “A for—”
“Adrian, yes,” you giggle. “I thought about a V, maybe, for Vigilante, but—”
“It’s perfect,” Adrian interrupts, his voice cracking a bit. “You’re perfect. I’m so happy that I get to marry you, baby.” He goes to kiss you again, and Ads grabs him by the back of the collar.
“I just fixed her makeup, Adrian—”
“Save the sappy speeches,” Chris says from the doorway. “We don’t want to be late.”
Adrian snaps to attention. “No. We should be early, actually. Maybe they’ll get us in quicker—”
“He’s gonna fucking run down the aisle,” John laughs.
Adrian doesn’t run down the aisle. If you were at the end of it, waiting for him, he absolutely would have. But instead, you walk down the aisle together, hands laced tightly, both of you beaming and giggling like idiots the whole way to the altar.
“You’d never guess they were fucking assassins,” John mutters to Emilia, who just smiles and shakes her head.
“Even people surrounded by death all the time deserve a little happiness,” she murmurs.
And you are. The both of you. Happier than you’ve ever been, because you love each other. Adrian has known for ages now that he was going to love you forever, but now—there’s something special about it. Setting it in stone, making it official. Being able to call you his wife instead of his girlfriend, being able to look at the wedding ring he’s going to place on your finger
He’s so caught up in it all—his imaginings of that future—that before he knows it, the officiant is done with his cookie-cutter speech, and offering the floor to the both of you to share your vows, gesturing for you to speak.
You offer Adrian a nervous half-smile and he squeezes your hands. The light in his eyes washes all of your worry away.
“The day I met you, I didn’t even see your face,” you begin. “All I knew was the man behind the mask. I knew you were funny, and brave, and righteous, and a little bit of an idiot, and part of me knew, from that very first week, that I wanted you to be my idiot. Forever. I trusted you to have my back in the field for years, and I have trusted you with my heart for almost as long, and you have done nothing but pour love and laughter into my life. I am so grateful for you, Adrian, and I love you. I will continue to love you for the rest of my life, and I will show you that love every day. No matter how far away we are.”
“When I was growing up, I never thought I’d love anyone like this,” Adrian says, a little choked up. “And now that I do, it’s the most special thing, and Chris might be my best friend, but you are my best best friend, in the whole wide world, and you are so funny and badass and hot and every time I look at you I just feel so—lucky, and every day that I wake up and I get to love you is the best day of my life, and I never want to be without you.” He takes a deep breath after his rambling confession.
The officiant gestures for John and Emilia to step forward. They each hand you something—the rings that you and Adrian had picked out the night prior. Simple, silver bands.
Adrian had wanted to get you something flashier, but you’d reminded him that you were both assassins for a living and you often worked with your hands. A lot of the time, the ring would be living on the new chain around your neck, hiding beneath your shirt right beside the tiny silver letter A. A big diamond would get caught on your clothes and in your hair.
You take the rings now from your friends and slide them onto each other’s left hands. Then your hands come up to cup Adrian’s face, framing his bright, boyish smile that widens even further when he feels the cool metal of your wedding band pressing against his cheeks.
You turn to the officiant. “Can I kiss him now? While you do the boring part?”
The man shrugs. “Be my guest.”
Somewhere in the background, you register the words as the officiant pronounces you husband and wife. Hear the sniffles that Ads and John try to hide, the clapping from Emilia, the wolf whistle from Chris.
You’re too busy kissing your husband to care about any of it.
Several hours later, tipsy and tired, you and Adrian stumble toward your motel room, giggling between kisses. It takes him three tries to get the electronic lock to work because he’s so distracted by your lips on his neck, sending bolts of heat shooting down his spine. He hums and tilts his head to give you better access as the door finally opens.
You start to step inside, but he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you into his chest.
“No,” he says. “I’m supposed to—to do a thing. Carry you.”
“Bridal style?”
“Yeah,” he says. “You’re a bride. My bride. I gotta do my duty. I will not fail at husbanding within the first six hours.”
“I think that’s for when we get home,” you laugh. “And I don’t think husbanding is a verb, baby.”
“Humor me,” he says, picking you up anyway, sending you into another fit of giggles. He steps over the threshold with a goofy smile and then sets you down on the bed and shuts the door behind him. “Okay. All done.”
“Thank you, my love,” you say dramatically.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Chase,” he teases, leaning over you on the mattress, and then he makes a face. “Ew. Sorry. I wanted that to be sexy, it is not sexy. I’m just thinking about my fucking mom now. Gross.”
“You’re gonna have to tell her,” you point out.
“Not tonight, I’m not,” he says. “Tonight, I am going to make love to my wife, and tomorrow we are going to go home and stay home for several weeks and not talk to anybody except each other, because the rest of the world got to have you for five fucking weeks straight and it’s my turn to be alone with my wife.”
He’s been calling you that all night. Every bartender, every stranger on the street, even to Chris and Emilia and John and Ads, like they don’t know who you are already. The words feel magical on his tongue. He’s not sure he’ll ever get sick of them.
“You’re all mine,” you say. “No missions. No interruptions. Just us.”
You reach up for his bowtie and pull it loose, dropping it on the floor, then push his unbuttoned, already-disheveled suit jacket off his shoulders. His cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, his mouth hanging open, reaching forward for your lips, but your duck your head to the side, kissing at his neck instead. He groans.
“You’re so handsome,” you say, nibbling at his jaw as you unbutton his shirt. “How are you so handsome? I’m so lucky.”
“You’re so lucky?” he says incredulously, hands trailing up your thighs. “I’m so lucky. The luckiest guy on the fucking planet. With the most badass, beautiful wife ever. I love you so much.”
“Are you gonna take my clothes off or what? I feel like I’m doing all the work here.”
“I get to see you naked all the time. I only get to fuck my wife in her wedding dress once,” he says. He’s not even smug about it. He’s just—earnest, excited. He just wants you. And you want him just as bad.
He’s just a little bit drunk, maybe, he thinks to himself, the world all hazy and warm. He can’t stop smiling, giggling, and neither can you, the both of you feeding on each other’s joy, amplifying it back in an echo chamber that makes his chest feel tight, like he can’t physically hold in all the love he has for you.
“Do whatever you want with me,” you groan. “Just fucking touch me already.”
Adrian scrambles for your underwear, tugging it down your legs in what he wanted to be a swift movement, but ends up being clumsy. Still, as he dips down to eagerly lick at your slick pussy, you whimper—no matter how clumsy he might be right now, he knows you, knows your body, like the back of his own hand, and it takes him no time at all to work you up to your peak, until your thighs are trembling around his head and his glasses are fogging up.
When you come, tiny gasps of pleasure spill from the back of your throat, and Adrian feels a strange, possessive feeling take over him as he realizes that he is the only one who will ever get to hear you make these noises. Who will ever make you feel this way. You’re his, now, forever, and no one else can ever take you away from him.
“I just can’t believe I get to keep you,” he murmurs, kissing up your body—your belly, your breasts, your neck, until he finally reaches your mouth, delving his tongue inside to meet yours. It’s sloppy. It’s greedy. It’s perfect.
You unbuckle his belt to shove his pants down his thighs, and Adrian groans when his cock springs free and you wrap your hand around him, pumping. He’s already rock hard, leaking precum everywhere, and if he doesn’t fuck you in the next ten seconds, this will be over before it even starts.
He places his hands on your upper thighs, pushing the skirt of your dress up out of the way, and spreads your legs so he has room to settle between them. You lay back on the mattress, watching him, pupils blown so wide he wouldn’t even know what they looked like if he hadn’t spent hours of time staring at your face, admiring every fleck of color in them.
Adrian gives you no warning when he pushes into you, and your eyes flutter shut, thighs tightening around his waist. He thrusts into you with practiced movements, relishing in the fact that he knows your body so well. Knows the exact angle that will hit that sweet sensitive spot inside you, knows exactly how fast and hard you like it. Knows exactly when you’re moments away from your second orgasm, because you start clenching around his cock in that familiar way, tight and warm and perfect.
This time, when you come, Adrian is seconds behind you, his thrusts losing rhythm as he falls over the edge and spills into you. He drops to his elbows until he’s covering you with his whole body, his face hovering right above yours, breaths mingling.
“I love you,” you say, reaching for his left hand. He gives it to you, beaming as you kiss the cool metal of his wedding band. He returns the favor, ducking his head down to kiss the pendant of your new necklace.
“I love you too,” he says. “So fucking much.”
Tomorrow, you’ll head back home with your friends. Next week, you’ll be back at work, doing what you both do best—maiming and killing and whatever needs to be done for the good of your missions. But right now, there’s this. There’s the two of you, joined together, married. And with you, Adrian knows he’s ready to tackle whatever comes along next.
y'all have no idea the sheer horny energy coursing through my veins right now. his longer hair is driving me fuckign crazy. seeing him is like seeing my war husband. i'm feral.
I am. Literally going to melt in a puddle thinking about this. He would say it so casually too, it’s just on the tip of his tongue because he genuinely thinks you are so kind and pretty and perfect and he means it with his whole heart
You call him “hi handsome” in return one time and he flushes such a pretty pink and gets all shy about it but starts calling you pretty 1000x more bc he wants to hear you say it again.
Having him slide into bed behind you while you're already halfway off to dreamland, his breath warm against your naked shoulder where he leaves soft kisses, murmuring about how he has missed you and that he's sorry for coming home so late
Hi! Your requests are open, and I saw that you create content not only about Peacemaker, but about DC in general.
My fanfic request is about a reader who is a Wayne, but who chose not to be a heroine and instead she's an investigator/government agent. She wants to take her boyfriend, Adrian Chase, to meet her not-at-all strange family (゜ー゜)
If you prefer something more detailed, I personally imagine a reader in her 30s-35s, a little more serious, who loves Adrian's personality and doesn't mind listening to him talk for hours.
A/N: anon…how did you know I’m getting back into Batman, that’s spooky. I wrote my first Jason fic in years and it’s sitting in my drafts to go up in July, but here you are reading my mind when I haven’t written for them since 2020 or even read a comic since probably earlier than that, so if peeps are a little OOC I am sorry! I also made the reader just part of the bat family because I didn’t want to give the reader a race, so you can consider them a Wayne or not your pick! Thank you @vigilantexreader for the beta!
Masterlist
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The private plane was a little over the top, but when was Bruce not over the top?
She had been living in Evergreen for the past five years and while she missed her family, she didn’t miss much of Gotham. It was great for working black ops, always busy, but it wore on her. She wasn’t like her brothers, she didn’t have much heart for vigilante work and much preferred working behind the scenes. Even then working in Gotham was too much and she applauded Barbara for sticking through and always ready to help, but she was happy where she was.
It was Evergreen where she met Harcourt and Economos and it was the first time outside of her family that she actually started to feel like she belonged. It was a nice little bubble the three of them had and then Project Butterfly happened and they started working again with Peacemaker, a man she had only heard of when Harcourt had one too many drinks and would open up about Project Starfish.
But with Peacemaker, came Vigilante. At first she found his endless nonsense really annoying, but coupled that with the fact that every chance he got he checked on her, thanked her, and brought her some of her favorite treats she couldn’t help the small butterflies in her stomach.
And even though she swore of dating vigilantes after watching her brother’s fumble relationship after relationship. Adrian Chase had worn her down.
They had been dating for a little over a year now and for the first time in her adult life she finally felt comfortable bringing her boyfriend back to Gotham to meet her family.
“A private plane is so fucking cool and there’s no pilot? That’s so fucking cool,” Adrian said for what had to be for the hundredth time as he shuffled in the seat across from her, she peered over her book with a small smile as Adrian looked around.
“Yeah,” she said gently and he looked over at her, a goofy smile on his face.
“Are you nervous? Is it weird that I’m nervous?” he asked and she smiled, putting her bookmark in her book and setting it off to the side.
“I don’t think it’s weird that you’re nervous,” she said simply and he nodded.
“I just really want them to like me both as your boyfriend and as Vigilante. I’m so glad he sent the plane because I have no idea how we’d get my suit through the everyday security, like could you imagine?” he said with a bright laugh.
“You didn’t bring any of your guns right?” she asked and Adrian nodded. “Good, Bruce would hate that and I don’t want to start anything because Jason would defend you and then it’ll just be a whole thing.”
“Should I call him Bruce? Mr. Wayne? Batman? Mr. Batman?” he listed off and she rolled her eyes when she realized each suggestion was serious.
“I don’t know I just call him Bruce, but if you feel like you should call him something else, you can?” she said, nudging back at her book as Adrian glanced at it.
“Are you trying to finish it before we get there?” he asked, gently and she smiled.
“Jason recommended it, I wanted to finish it so we can talk about it while I’m there in person,” she said and he nodded towards her book.
“You can read,” he said softly. “I can be quiet for a few hours,” he promised, crossing his finger over his heart. She hummed as she picked up her book, finding herself reading the same page over and over again as she tried to not spiral too much about what might be her brothers’ reactions to Adrian.
She knew at the end of the day that if she said she was happy and they cleared their grievances they would at the very least back off and let her live her life, but getting there might be painful. Especially considering her and Adrian planned to stay for a week. Which also meant that Adrian was going to get antsy and want to go on patrol.
Vigilante in Gotham was almost asking from and it wasn’t that she didn’t think he could handle it, she just wasn’t sure how Bruce was going to feel about Adrian’s “kill first, ask questions later” motto. Maybe she can distract Adrian enough to take a week off and just avoid the conversation entirely.
True to Adrian’s promise he let her read in peace, but she didn’t get much reading done. Most of her thoughts finally circled the worst case scenarios of her family's reactions to her boyfriend. She felt lucky knowing that at the very least there was little they could do to make Adrian not like them. Still a week was a long time to deal with all the frequent flyers of Wayne Manor.
Once they landed, they made quick work grabbing their bags and heading towards the pickup spot. Her face splitting into a grin when she saw Alfred standing outside of one of the Wayne cars, a gentle smile on his face.
“It is so good to see you, my dear.” he said, quickly accepting her hug as Adrian took her bag, smiling and bouncing back and forth on his heels as he watched them. “And you must be Mr. Chase, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” he said, holding out his hand, which Adrian readily took.
“Just Adrian is fine!” he said brightly. “It’s nice to meet you too!”
Alfred gave her a smile, before they all got in the car.
“Everyone is already at the manor, eagerly awaiting your arrival,” he said, looking at them from the review mirror and she smiled.
“It’s that exciting?” she teased, squeezing Adrian’s hand as she watched Gotham whiz by from the window.
“It’s been five years since you’ve been home, of course it’s that exciting. You should’ve seen Master Bruce’s face when he got your message.”
“Really?” she asked, biting her lip. “And the fact I’m bringing someone who I…spilled the beans to?” She watched Alfred seem to choose his next words carefully.
“He’s aware of…Adrian’s own… night time activities. I believe that softened the blow. Master Damian had more resistance, but once Master Bruce spoke to him things seemed to get easier. In fact, I think the boys are now excited to get to talk ‘shop’ and show off some gadgets from the bat cave.”
“Oh my god, can we please do that first, that sounds amazing!” Adrian said, looking at her with wide begging eyes as she laughed.
“You don’t want to unpack and get settled first?” she asked, squeezing his hand.
“Okay, yeah that first then cool gadgets. Do you know if I can bring my suit down? I made it myself and I’ve been dying to get feedback and upgrades from others that actually understand what I’m going for,” Adrian asked, leaning forward as Alfred chuckled.
“Oh, I’m sure Tim is going to have a field day with that, he’ll love doing that,” she answered before Alfred could.
“I believe you’re quite right,” he said, pulling into the manor. “You know the way to your room and I will gather everyone in the bat cave shortly.”
She happily led Adrian through the manor, smiling as she listened to his ‘ohs’ and ‘aws’ as he carried both their bags up to her old room. Which was left just how she remembered it. She smiled as she started to unpack and Adrian took in every picture, poster, and knick knack she had left behind. She tried her best to not let the fact the room was the same make her feel any sort of way, Bruce was weird and sentimental about the weirdest things and she tried to not think about the fact that any of them had been waiting for her to come home this long.
“You okay?” Adrian asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder. She placed her hands on top of his.
“Yeah, just thinking,” she said honestly.
“Ready to go? Or do you want a few minutes?” he asked. “We can always play hookey for a bit. I honestly wouldn’t mind. Not that I’m nervous to meet them at all! I just know that this has to be a lot for you, home for the first time in five years and I’m just so grateful you wanted to share this with me and not just because Bruce Wayne is Batman and I’m about to see Batman’s lair.”
“Don’t call it a lair,” she said, crinkling her nose and Adrian chuckled, kissing her cheek. “It’s just the Bat Cave.”
“The Cave!” he said, trying and failing to sound mysterious as she laughed, leaning most of her weight back and against Adrian.
“Yeah, let’s go to the cave,” she said, unraveling herself from Adrian who pouted at the loss of contact before she slotted her hand in his.
She was pleased they bumped into Jason first, who was quick to wrap her up in a hug that she returned. Out of her whole family her and Jason always got along best, she always chalked it up to the fact that both of them were comfortable in the silence, never feeling like they had to make conversation and they could just exist around each other.
“Hey sis,” he said, squeezing her when she laughed, letting go of Adrian’s hand to give him a proper hug.
“Hey, Jay. How are you?” she said, releasing him as Jason turned to shake Adrian’s hand.
“Here,” he said with a shrug, the wait of the word was clear to her and she was happy that he made the sacrifice for her and Adrian. “You must be Adrian.”
“You must be Jason!” Adrian parroted back and Jason smiled at her.
“I like your methods,” Jason said, skipping straight to the point and Adrian beamed at him.
“Thanks man! See, I wanted to bring my guns, but wasn’t sure about the security of the airport and I figured getting detained on the way to meet my girlfriend's family was not the move,” he answered honestly. “But! If you ever find your way to Evergreen you’ve gotta come check out my set up!”
“Will do, the old man is waiting for you. I’ve got some stuff I have to take care of but I’ll be around a few times this week,” he said, moving to slip away, but she grabbed his arm before he could move too far away. His green eyes snapped to her face.
“Let’s get a drink at some point this week, out of the manor.” she said and he smiled.
“We do have some books to talk about,” he said before finally slipping away. She would never pressure Jason to stay or be around Bruce but she wished for her sanity he would stay.
“Come, let’s meet everyone else,” she said, putting her hand back into Adrian’s before she started to lead them back down. She smiled as she heard the familiar sounds of Tim and Damien bickering and Bruce typing away at the keyboard.
“Hey guys,” she said and all their heads whipped towards her. “This is Adrian-”
“Holy shit is that a bo staff?” Adrian asked, immediately letting go of her hand to inspect Tim’s staff that was in his hands. Tim blinked, eyes wide on her before looking back at Adrian.
“Oh yeah, it’s collapsible and-”
“It’s collapsible!” Adrian practically shouted as both her and Damien winced, but Tim just started grinning. “Oh my god that’s so cool. I typically have a katana on my back that I use on occasion but trust me I’m always looking for new and different weapons to try on patrol. Could you show me how you use it?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ve got a second one. If you want to spar with it, I can show you a few moves.” Tim suggested and Adrian turned towards her and she laughed as he gave her his best puppy dog eyes.
“Sure, just please be careful,” she said as Tim immediately starting leading Adrian throughout the Bat Cave, listing off the various gadgets and gizmos they had.
“Nerds,” Damian said with a scoff as he trailed behind them.
“If they’re nerds, why are you following them?” she asked, smiling as Damian turned to glare at her.
“Someone here needs to make sure he’s actually equipped to protect his city. It’s a travesty none of us have done it yet,” Damian said, shuffling slightly and avoiding her eye contact, but the meaning between the words is still there. His city, her, in Damian’s mind the same thing.
She watched the three of them make their way to the training area as she walked over to Bruce, jumping up to sit on the desk as she watched him. He was at least in casual clothing, she partially expected him to go running off as Batman when she brought a new person home. She guessed the night was still young.
“He’s meta?” Bruce asked her, eyes sharp on the computer as she narrowed her eyes, of course the questions would be the first thing out of his mouth and she wasn’t even sure if he had even looked at Adrian to acknowledge his existence in person. His body stayed tense or well as tense as Bruce would ever show. He clearly felt out of place questioning her at all when she didn’t react the way he wanted.
“How do you know that?” she asked.
“I have access to the A.R.G.U.S. servers,” he said simply and she scoffed. She knew for a fact that Adrian’s file with A.R.G.U.S was far from lacking and she could only begin to wonder just how much Bruce already knew about him before she even said she was bringing him home.
The invasion should bother her, but coming from Bruce she knew it was just the strange way he showed care for them.
“Access or you’ve hacked them?”
“Does it matter? He’s a meta human?” he pressed again as he turned in his chair to look at her, arms crossed tightly across his chest.
“In the loosest way possible, yes he’s meta. He can heal fast, he typically passes out if the pain is too bad and he wakes up fine,” she relented and he nodded. “That doesn’t mean you need to come up with a contingency plan,” she hissed, making sure no one else could hear her as Adrian and Time kept talking about the different weapons.
“I didn’t say I made a contingency plan, did I?” Bruce said and she rolled her eyes. “I think it’s fair that I look into anyone who my kids are dating.”
“Yeah a social media check, not going through top secret files from a government agency,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“I do what I can,” he said and she smiled.
“I know,” she said gently as she looked over to where the boys were, she saw Dick above them leaning against the bannister watching Adrian and Tim spar while Damian egged on Tim.
“Why don’t you go see what Dick is up to,” Bruce said and she looked back over to him.
“I will, but first your thoughts,” she said and Bruce furrowed his brow.
“Thoughts on what?” he asked.
“On Adrian and well…I guess me?” she clarified, looking away. She truly hated how badly she wanted Bruce’s approval at this moment, but she figured they were all weak when it came to wanting Bruce to agree with their life choices.
“He seems nice,” he said gently. “Makes you happy, happy enough to come home and bring someone with you. He understands the field, which I know makes dating feel impossible.”
“Yeah,” she said softly.
“But I like him, I’m sure the rest will give you their opinions, but I’m happy to see you both,” he finished and she nodded, trying to fight the beaming smile that threatened to take over her features.
“Yeah, I’m happy to see you guys too,” she said before squeezing his shoulder and making her way up to where Dick was watching Adrian and Tim. Adrian bouncing around and talking almost nonstop while he and Tim practiced with the bo staff.
“So, he’s a lot,” Dick said, leaning against the railing with her as she watched Adrian and Tim go back and forth about different gadgets.
“Hm, a little” she relented with a small smile and he chuckled.
“But he’s good to you?”
“The best,” she answered honestly.
“That’s good,” he hummed, clapping an arm around her shoulder and tugging her in for a small side hug.
“Baby! Do you think we have room in the apartment for a bo staff?” Adrian shouted up at her and she smiled.
“If it’s collapsible and Tim helps you,” she shouted down and Tim gave her a thumbs up as he focused on Adrian, the two still circling each other before going back to sparing.
“You guys live together?” Dick asked softly.
“He just moved into my apartment three months ago,” she said, leaving out the part where Adrian was living with his mom. Not that any of the bat family really had much of a say in that, they’ve all lived in Wayne Manor or by using Bruce’s help at one point or another.
“That serious, huh?”
“Serious enough I brought him to meet you guys,” she hummed and he smiled.
“Yeah that’s true,” he said, not saying anything else as they watched the two spar. She could tell Adrian and Tim were pretty evenly matched since Adrian was newer to the weapon, but as he started to get a hang of it he started to get the edge on Tim. Once Damian immediately noticed the slip he looked up at her and Dick, giving her an approval nod.
They all end up watching Adrian spar with Damian and katanas and later with Dick as he practiced with escrima sticks. Adrian was having the time of his life sparring with them and the others seemed impressed with how eager he was.
Later when they were wrapping everything up in the Bat Cave, she managed to pull Adrian to the side, whispering in his ear.
“Heads up, Bruce did access your files from A.R.G.U.S. I’m so sorry,” she whispered and Adrian turned to look at her, cocking his head to the side with a goofy grin.
“No baby, he absolutely should do that! I mean what if I was a complete weirdo! I’m glad he’s checking in and making sure you’re safe. Do you think he found anything cool on me?” he asked brightly and she laughed, leaning into him.
“I’m sure you can ask,” she said smiling at him as he smiled back, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on her cheek.
“Awesome! I wonder if he has access to Chris’ file too! I’d love to know which one of us Batman himself thinks is the cooler superhero!”
“Of course,” she said flatly and Adrian chuckled.
“Hey,” he said, wrapping her up in his arms. He was barely sweaty from the sparring.
“Hey,” she said softly, the others bickering about what they wanted to order for dinner, as if Alfred wasn’t going to make sure she got to pick for her first night back in Gotham.
“I’m really glad you brought me out here, not just because this is sick as fuck and I can’t wait to get to know them all better, but because you wanted me to meet them. It means a lot,” he said softly, his smile almost shy reminding her of when they first started dating and how nervous he would get by her.
“Of course, I’m really glad you said yes,” she whispered and he shook his head.
“You should know by now I’ll say yes to anything you want,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I love you.”
Specific foods that he associated that he associates with sex like whipped cream, or ones that he associates with aftercare like one specific shape of pasta.
Certain perfumes, the ones you use specifically use on the back of your ankles too. (Idk if im the only one who does that)
Few words that has him perk up like a dog who heard the words ‘walk’ and ‘treat’ and his version of those words are ‘baby’ in that tone that makes him feel so pitiful like a puppy. And ‘my hero’ because he likes feeling like he is needed and is somehow helpful.
When you do him the simplest of favours, like maybe cleaning his glasses or charging his switch. His mind just switches to something he cant put his finger on.
When you coo at him, acting like he is some baby or a puppy.
When you get teal colored acrylics/manicure he always gets hot for a handjob, same goes for pedicure too.
Thigh high socks that are just tight enough that the plush of your thighs slip from the top.
Kissing him right under his ear where his jaw starts, you can feel him exhale from his nose so harshly from the kiss.
Any time he sees and sort of pineapple flavored thing because in his mind people only eat-drink it for sexual purposes which makes his mind wander to you yet he never ends up getting any because he always says you taste so so sweet already.
When you want to feel his arms or appreciate his body at all. He cant help it, poor boy gets so excited!!
A nice fanfic because the next one might be a bit too much…
Clark Kent x female reader
Sinopsis: Clark Kent never gets sick. At least, that’s what he always tells you. But after a brutal battle leaves Superman weakened in ways no one expected, you’re suddenly forced to take care of the strongest man in the world through a fever that shakes buildings, freezes floors, and leaves him trembling in your arms.
Warnings: Fluff and romance
WC: 2,900 words approx.
The work trip had only one goal: It was normal that when people transitioned from the spring to the autumn season, they got sick. You, more than anyone, knew that very well. That was why you took care of yourself as best you could, because you hated injections. It was a trauma you'd had since you were a child, due to your weak immune system. They had to give you shots for almost two full weeks, and for a twelve-year-old girl, you had to admit it was a real trauma. So, to avoid going through the same thing again, you took a packet of vitamin C every morning. And there was no problem with that, because that way you managed not to get sick.
Now that you had a boyfriend like Clark, it was clear that you always sought to take care of both of you. Ever since you moved in with him, you kept up your morning vitamin routine. And even before you found out his big secret—that he was Superman and led a double life—Clark took his vitamin with you. So you would prepare two glasses with the dissolved vitamin powder, and he would drink it without complaint. He never said anything, never grumbled. He just smiled and drank it while looking at you affectionately.
That lasted until he told you his secret, in the middle of the living room, sitting together on the sofa. He looked at you with fear, having revealed something so monumental, as if he thought you might get scared or angry. But you just stayed silent for a moment, thinking.
"So you can't get sick?" you asked, staring at him.
Clark smiled, feeling very relieved to be able to tell his secret to the most special person in his life. "No," he said, and very carefully tucked your stray hair behind your ear.
You frowned, a little confused. "And if you can't get sick, why do you take the vitamin I give you to prevent getting sick?" you asked, looking at him curiously.
His cheeks flushed deeply, so much so that he hesitated a bit before answering. "Well… it's a routine I enjoy sharing with you," he admitted with a slightly shy smile.
You smiled too, because you found it very endearing. From that moment on, Clark stopped taking the vitamin, since he truly didn't need it. But that didn't stop you from still taking care of him just the same. If you went out and it started to rain, you would take off your coat and give him his to put on.
"Beautiful, I don't get sick," he would say, laughing a little.
But you would look at him with those eyes he could never refuse. "But we match," you would tell him. And it was true, because you both had blue coats, so he would put it on just to keep you at ease.
In winter, when the cold was too harsh, you would wrap his scarf around his neck before going out. And on sunny days, you would put on your cap and he would do the same, because you had bought an identical one for him. He always told you the same thing: "I can't get sick. I'm strong." But you still weren't entirely sure. To you, he was still Clark, your boyfriend, and you wanted to protect him just as he protected you.
Even so, for several days you had known that the Justice League was facing a very powerful enemy. The news said Superman was having difficulties, and that left you on edge, very nervous. You worked in a call center office, and whenever you could, you checked your phone. But there was no message from Clark. He had gone three days without rest, and you were very worried about his health. When you got home that night, you realized it would be your fourth night without sleeping beside him. You missed him terribly.
You sighed and paced back and forth across the living room, not knowing what to do. The sun set completely and everything went dark. Then you heard a thud at the window. You saw Green Lantern helping Clark inside, stumbling, almost falling.
"Here's your woman, Clark," said Guy Gardner, the Green Lantern, and then he looked at you.
"Guy? What happened?" you asked, running toward Clark, who was moving very slowly, as if struggling to put one foot in front of the other.
"I'm fine," Clark said, but you heard something off in his voice. You noticed he didn't pronounce the letter 'e' correctly.
"You're not fine," Guy said. "His exposure to the enemy—by the way, we already defeated him—weakened him a lot." Guy placed him on the sofa you pointed to. "And you could say, in human terms, he has a fever."
You looked at Clark, who was pale and shaking slightly. You were about to touch him, but Gardner stopped you with his hand. "He's boiling. He can't cool down on his own until the sun rises in about eight hours," he explained.
You nodded, looking at Clark with concern. "I suppose it's like a human cold, right?" you said.
Gardner nodded. Just then, Clark sneezed. It was such a powerful sneeze that the whole apartment shook, and even your crystal vase fell to the floor and shattered.
"Sorry," Clark said, sniffling hard.
"I'll handle it," you told the Green Lantern, your voice firm.
"You sure?" Guy asked. You nodded again. "Anything happens, you know how to contact us. Good luck with your man and his sudden changes," he said, and flew off swiftly through the window.
You closed the window and started thinking. "First, we'll bring your temperature down," you announced, moving quickly. "I'll get the blankets out here, and we'll change your clothes."
"I'm fine," Clark said again, but his voice sounded weak. Then another sneeze shook the air, and this time a picture hanging on the wall fell down, making you jump. "Sorry," he whispered, sniffling again, a small pout on his lips. He looked like a big child who didn't want to cause trouble.
You ran to the bedroom and brought everything to the living room: blankets, a pillow, his pajamas. First, Clark lay down on the sofa with a pillow, with nothing covering him. You placed a large bucket with water and a lot of ice, too much ice. You reached out to touch his forehead, and barely grazing his skin, you had to pull away immediately. It burned as if you had touched a lit stove.
"Oh, Clark," you said, your eyes wide. "You're super hot. I can't even touch you."
He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "I know… it hurts," he whispered, and another sneeze made the windows rattle. This time, a glass on the table fell and rolled across the floor, but luckily it didn't break.
You carefully took the cloth, dipped it in the ice water, and brought it close to his skin. The moment the cold cloth touched his forehead, it started to steam slightly. The ice melted instantly. You had to wet the cloth again and again, nonstop. Every time you placed it, he sighed in relief for a second, but then groaned again as the heat returned.
"Again," he asked, his voice broken. "Put it on again, please." And you did, over and over, without tiring. Your hands were already red from constantly plunging them into the icy water, but you didn't care.
Nearly an hour passed like this. Clark sneezed every few minutes, and each sneeze made the furniture shift slightly or caused something to fall. At one point, he sneezed so hard that the ceiling lamp swayed as if an earthquake had hit.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," he said, his eyes teary, pouting again. His lower lip trembled. "I don't want to break anything, love. I don't want to…"
"It's okay," you told him, gently wiping the cloth across his face. "The things don't matter. You're the one who matters."
When the cloth finally started to stay cold on his skin for longer, you felt brave enough to remove his suit. Very carefully, you began taking it off him. He could barely move, so you had to help him by lifting his arms little by little. You left him in just his underwear, and at that moment, his skin changed completely. Suddenly, the heat vanished as if someone had extinguished a fire.
"I'm cold," Clark whispered, and his voice sounded so small it broke your heart. "So cold, love."
He began to tremble uncontrollably. His teeth chattered together, making a tiny sound. His lips turned purple, and his face became as pale as snow. You touched him, and this time it was like touching a block of ice. You were a little frightened, but you remembered what Guy had told you: sudden changes.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," you said, rushing to get more blankets. You grabbed every single one you had in the closet, even the oldest and thinnest. You piled them on him one by one. First one, then another, then another. Clark was still shivering, so you added two more. You lay down beside him on the sofa and held him tight, rubbing his arms and back to warm him up.
"Don't let go," he said, his voice breaking. "Please, don't let me go."
"I won't let you go," you promised, squeezing him tighter.
Several minutes passed until he finally stopped trembling. He sighed deeply and buried his face in your neck. "Stay with me," he whispered. And you stroked his hair, kissing his head every so often.
Suddenly, Clark coughed. It was a dry, harsh cough, and as he coughed, a blast of icy wind came from his mouth, freezing a patch of the floor. You looked at the ice, then at him. His eyes were wide, frightened.
"I'm so sorry," he said, and again he made that pout with his lips, like a child who has just accidentally broken something. "I don't want to hurt anything."
"It's nothing, Clark," you told him with a calm smile. "I'm going to make you soup and tea for the cough. But first, I need you to blow your nose."
You handed him a clean cloth, and he blew his nose. It was a very loud sound, like a trumpet, and as he did, another sneeze shook the living room. This time, the vase on the shelf fell and shattered into a thousand pieces.
"Oh no," Clark moaned, and a tear escaped down his cheek. "Everything breaks. I'm a wreck when I'm sick, and the neighbors are going to come and complain to you."
You knelt in front of him and wiped the tear away with your finger. "Hey, look at me," you said, affectionate but firm. "You take care of everyone, all the time. Now it's my turn to take care of you. If things break, that's fine. If the neighbors complain, I'll find an excuse. Do you understand?"
Clark nodded, but he was still pouting. "Do you still love me even if I break all your things?"
"I love you even if you break the whole building," you told him, and he let out a weak laugh that ended in another cough.
You went to the kitchen and prepared a hot soup and some tea. When you returned with the bowl and the cup on the small table, Clark was calmer, but still very weak. You helped him sit up a little, placing a pillow behind his back.
"Here, eat slowly," you told him, bringing the spoon closer.
He ate very slowly. Every other spoonful, he would sneeze or cough, and you already had the cloth ready to cover his mouth or wipe his nose. At one point, while eating, he started talking to himself, his eyes half-closed.
"My mom… my mom makes soup like this," he murmured, and then smiled goofily. "But you make it better… don't tell her."
You smiled, knowing he was delirious again. "I won't tell her," you whispered.
"And flowers… you like yellow flowers," he continued, moving his head from side to side. "I'm going to buy you a whole field of them. An entire field just for you. Would you like that?"
"I would love that," you replied, giving him another spoonful of soup.
"And peaches," he added, his eyes glossy and unfocused. "You like peaches. I'm going to bring you peaches from space. The peaches from Krypton are the best… though I don't know if there are peaches on Krypton." He paused, confused. "I don't think there are. But I'll get you some anyway."
You couldn't help but laugh softly. He was so adorable, talking in his sleep. He finished the soup and drank all the tea. Then you used your last remedy: two packets of vitamin C. He took them whole, and as he swallowed them, he made a face like a child given bad-tasting medicine.
"Disgusting," he protested, frowning. "Why do I have to take this if I'm already getting better?"
"Because I said so," you answered, and he made another pout, but this time softer, more like a pretend one.
Finally, he managed to half-open his eyes. They were teary and blue, and they looked at you weakly. He was very depleted. You had never seen him like this, so sick.
"I never get sick because I'm strong," you repeated what he always said, but this time with tenderness.
He sniffled, and that made you smile. "When the sun rises, you'll get better," you whispered, stroking his cheek again.
"I hate being like this," he said in a small voice. "I hate not being able to hug you tight because my arms are shaking. I hate sneezing and breaking things. I hate you seeing me so weak."
"You're not weak," you told him, taking his hand in yours. "You're sick. It's different. And I don't mind seeing you like this, because I've looked like this many times myself, and you never left me alone."
Clark looked at you with his big, wet eyes. "Will you stay with me until the sun comes out?"
"I'll stay," you said without hesitation.
"And do you still love me even when I pout?"
You smiled and touched his nose with your finger. "I love you more when you pout."
He smiled weakly and then yawned. "Take the vitamins again," you said confidently, leaving no room for doubt.
"I just need a little sunlight," he replied, shaking his head slightly, but without letting go of your hand.
"And vitamins," you said, and then yawned without being able to stop it.
"Go to sleep, you're tired," he said, his tone a little ashamed.
You shook your head. "You're here. I've spent three days alone in the bedroom. I want to be with you," you admitted, looking into his eyes.
He nodded, understanding. Then you stayed by his side, curled up next to him on the sofa, one hand on his chest to feel his breathing. Clark sneezed two more times, but they were softer now, and you wiped the cloth without saying anything, just kissing his shoulder. He made a small pout each time, as if apologizing, and you just smiled at him.
The hours passed like that, until four-thirty in the morning, when he finally managed to fall asleep. You fell asleep on the small sofa, with a blanket over you, but without letting go of his hand.
When you woke up, you turned over and felt that you were in your bed. You opened your eyes and sat up immediately, so fast that you felt a little dizzy. You looked at the clock: it was eight-thirty in the morning. You had barely slept four hours. You blinked, trying to wake up properly, and walked to the kitchen. Things were already prepared: bread, juice, everything tidy. Then you turned and saw Clark sitting on a chair, looking out the window. The sun was shining directly on his face, and he looked rested.
You smiled and approached without making a sound. You placed yourself behind him, without moving him. He tilted his head back to see you, and you kissed his forehead. It was normal, no fever.
"Did I wake you?" he whispered, his voice calm.
"No, I just got up and you weren't in the living room anymore," you said, wrapping your arms around him.
"As soon as the sun came up, I carried you to bed and came here to recharge. I didn't want you to sleep badly," he explained. He pulled back slightly and stood up to come closer to you. "Let's go sleep. Yesterday was a very long night for you," he said as his thumb gently traced the dark circles under your eyes. "Thank you for taking care of me," he added, holding your cheeks in his large, warm hands.
You smiled, your cheeks squished by his hands. "I would do it my whole life," you admitted without hesitation.
He smiled and kissed you softly. "Now you have to listen to me when it rains or gets cold, and always take your vitamins," you said, pointing to the spot where the vase and the pictures used to be, which were gone now because they had broken. "Otherwise, next time you'll end up destroying the whole apartment."
"Yes, sorry," he said, laughing softly as he took your hand and led you toward the bedroom.
They lay down together, and he hugged you tightly. You closed your eyes, feeling at peace, and the two of you slept again, finally resting.
