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training4theapocalypse · 1 year

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On Her Majesty’s Supersonic Service (Adrian Chase x Reader) Ch. 5

Chapter 5 From Gotham with Love

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: SMUT, TW: Rape roleplay, Bondage, Romance, Descriptions of murder, Descriptions of violence, P in V, Verbal humiliation, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After the events of Project Butterfly, you and Adrian Chase become A.R.G.U.S. contractors- your first mission is a heist in Gotham. But you've always wondered what it would be like if Vigilante was after you and if you could persuade him to let you go.

Masterlist

Chapter text:

Two weeks later

'The mission is simple'. Harcourt’s instructions had read: steal a flash drive without anybody noticing.

This was your and Adrian’s first job as government-contracted mercenaries. The idea, of course, had been yours. Days after the events of Project Butterfly, Adrian received a payment from A.R.G.U.S. for services rendered to the U.S. Government.

“Woah, we can actually get paid for this stuff?”

A few administrative procedures later, you’d set up your own firm, and you were now official suppliers of security services on A.R.G.U.S’s approved contractors list— self-employed, tax-paying, government-sanctioned killers. To Adrian’s slight dismay, you were quite the opposite of vigilantes.

“Can you hear me, Birdie?” comes Adrian’s voice in your earpiece.

You sit at the bar of the Hotel Aventine casino, waiting for your mark to show up. You’d asked Harcourt for an easy job to ease Adrian into espionage, and as Interim Director of A.R.G.U.S. while Waller was suspended, she was able to arrange just that.

“Copy,” you whisper discreetly into your whisky glass.

Watching the high-rollers, you’re waiting for Tomasso Falcone to give the drive to his cronies to stash in his room safe. Then, once you gave him the all-clear, Adrian would climb into Falcone’s room via the balcony and switch the flash drive with a decoy while you kept a lookout in the casino.

Simple. Easy.

Adrian drums his fingers restlessly on the balcony railing overlooking Gotham City’s nightscape below. Thunder begins to roll in as the clouds get darker and ominously closer to the towering hotel.

“Adrian,” you mumble, hiding your mouth behind your glass. “Stop drumming Taylor Swift- my earpiece is picking it up.”

“Sorry.”

“He’s here.”

Falcone enters the room and walks over to the blackjack table. You watch as he confers with a couple of men. Then he looks over at the bar, surveying a few women sitting there until his eyes fall directly on you.

Shit.

You look away nonchalantly but feel his gaze raking over you. Through the busy casino chatter, the sound of footsteps on the slightly sticky carpet reaches your ears as he approaches the bar. You continue to look ahead but feel Falcone’s presence as he sits on the barstool right next to yours.

“Let me get a Jim Beam,” he instructs the barman. “And one for the lady.”

“Oh, no, thank you,” you say, gesturing at your half-empty glass.

“What? Boyfriend won’t let a guy buy you a drink or something?” he asks, and you hear Adrian drumming in your ear again, clearly agitated.

“Another Laphroaig then, please,” you say to the barman.

“What’s that? French?”

Ugh.

He swivels on his seat so he’s looking directly at you.

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing all by herself in a joint like this?”

“I hate this,” says Adrian in your earpiece.

You ignore Adrian. But shit, you need to get rid of Falcone.

“I’m here on business.”

“Business...” Falcone repeats as the barman sets your drinks down. “Working girl?” he adds quietly when the barman turns to serve another patron.

You look behind him at the women sitting at the bar and finish your first drink in one gulp. You were so focused on keeping a lookout for Falcone that you hadn’t noticed the dirty looks from them, who you now realise are some of the high-end call girls of Gotham.

“I don’t want to waste either of our time, so let’s just say I don’t think you could afford me.” You tilt your head sympathetically, eyes lingering on his cheap drink of choice, and he gives you an offended look.

“I’m a guy who knows what he likes- that don’t mean I can’t afford you.”

Channelling your inner Harcourt, you raise your eyebrows and sip your drink but don’t reply.

“How’d you like to make more tonight than you make in a month?” he says with bravado, discreetly adjusting the sleeve of his suit so you can see his expensive watch.

“Now, that’s very forward of you- I don’t even know your name.”

“Falcone. Tomasso Falcone. And you?”

“They call me Emilia.” Adrian snorts when he hears you utter Harcourt’s name- the first that popped into your head. You hadn’t expected to interact with Falcone, so you don’t have a cover prepared. “And I’m intrigued to find out what you think I make in a month.”

He takes out a hotel key card and a black USB stick and slides them towards you, his hand covering them. You place your hand on top of his.

“Take this up to my room and put it in the safe. There’s ten grand in the safe- it’s yours.”

You tut, leaning into your role. “Mr Falcone, I’m appalled that’s what you think I make in a month.”

“A week?”

“Try a night.”

He blinks incredulously. “I’m in the wrong line of work.”

“So, I go upstairs, put this in the safe and wait for you to join me?”

“You just need to put it in the safe and leave- don’t come back down here. One delivery. And you don’t need to worry about spreading your legs for anyone tonight.”

“Let me kill him, Birdie…” Adrian grumbles as you meet Falcone’s eyes.

“I don’t know about this- ” You go to withdraw your hand, but he places his other on top of it firmly.

“Look, I got eyes on me everywhere. They see me tell my guys to go to my room, and they’ll know somethin’s going down. They see me pass a room key to a hooker? Nobody looks twice.”

This guy is an idiot.

You’re the one who’s watching him, and he hasn’t even realised it.

“Birdie, what are you doing? Take it!”

You don’t want to see too eager, so you pretend to hesitate and look around the room. Falcone’s men are watching your interaction closely.

“Suit yourself. Plenty of other girls in this joint-” Your other hand grabs his before he can move it back.

“Fine.”

He releases his grip, and you slip the items into your clutch. You slink off the barstool and press your lips to his cheek conspicuously. Falcone whispers his room number and safe combination in your ear, and then he watches as you leave the casino towards the hotel lobby.

He gestures his men over to the bar.

“Give it ten minutes. When the whore’s done, make sure she disappears.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, that was easy,” says Adrian’s voice.

The elevator doors shut.

“Get to Falcone’s balcony- now.”

“Why? You’ve got his key. I’ll meet you outside his room.”

“Adrian, I can say with certainty that they’ll wait for me to leave the room and attempt to murder me. Get to the balcony.”

“Shit. Copy that.”

There’s a reason Tomasso Falcone is only a minor member of his organised crime family. He’s a halfwit and, from what you can surmise, a scumbag too. Outsourcing his dirty work to prostitutes and probably killing them afterwards- it makes you sick.

The elevator opens on the top floor- the 44th story. You walk down the hall briskly, and let yourself into his room.

Lightning flashes across the night sky, and you have to suppress a gasp of fright when you see Vigilante’s menacing backlit figure through the glass doors on the balcony outside, rain pelting down on the marble tile behind him.

God, he looks so scary in his full suit in the dead of night. Gotham suits him.

You let him in, and he blows right past you.

“I fucking hate that guy.” His voice is muffled as it penetrates the fabric of his mask. You stop his pacing and wipe the rain off of his red visor.

“So do I. But, Adrian, we need to get out of here quickly.”

He follows you to the safe as you get on your knees to open it. It’s empty except for a small stack of bills with a mustard band that reads $10,000.

“Give me the decoy drive.” He hands you an identical black USB stick which you place in the safe. You take the band of bills, but Adrian holds the door before you can shut it.

“Wait- we don’t want his money!”

“He’ll be suspicious about the drive if I don’t take the money. What kind of prostitute doesn’t accept payment?”

“What if there’s a GPS tracker between the bills?”

You chew your lip, weighing up the options. There’s no time - you need to make a snap decision. You take the money and shut the safe with finality. Adrian’s towering figure extends a hand to help you to your feet, and he walks over to the hotel room door.

“No, Adrian- this way.” You jerk your thumb back towards the glass sliding doors of the balcony. “We might bump into Falcone’s men out there.”

“Good. We can take them!”

“We’ve only got two objectives,” you remind him. “Switch the flash drives and don’t draw attention to ourselves. Leaving a pile of bodies in the hallway would definitely be classed as drawing attention to ourselves.”

The room lights up as another flash of lightning streaks the sky.

“Birdie- the storm outside. We’ve got one set of ropes, and you’re wearing… that. Super hot, by the way, but one slip and we’re both gonna end up painting the sidewalk.”

You have to admit that a satin dress, heels and a clutch aren’t conducive to abseiling down a building, but the other option would jeopardise the mission.

Reaching up to clasp his shoulder, you meet his eyes behind his visor. “We can do it. But we need to move. Now.”

The wind howls, blowing icy rain into your face as soon as you slide the door open. You look over the edge of the balcony, and your stomach drops. Even though you’re well-practised in this, you’ve never had to do it in a cocktail dress and heels before. You grip your clutch bag tightly.

We just need to drop two floors and climb two rooms to the right, you reassure yourself.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Adrian calls. You look over your shoulder and nod. He closes the glass door behind him and starts securing the rope, looping it over the metal railing on the righthand side of the balcony.

“I’ll go first.” He pries your clutch bag from your hands. “We’ll need both hands.” You watch as he secures the bag with duct tape around his body.

He carefully climbs over the railing and, using the rope, lowers himself onto another balcony two floors below. Once he lands, he silently tugs on the rope, signalling that it’s safe for you to come down.

You hoist your dress up, and one leg at a time, you too climb over the railing- carefully positioning your feet so your strappy heels don’t catch on the outer edge. You skillfully wrap the rope between your legs and back up behind your shoulders, holding the rope so you can rappel down the side of the building without a harness.

As you step off, the rain soaks through your dress, and you notice how the rope is becoming increasingly slippy to hold. As you lower yourself past the next floor, what seemed to take Adrian seconds feels like an eternity. Your fingers turn white as you grip the rope for dear life, ignoring the blisters forming on your palms.

The wind makes you sway on your descent, and you try hard to think of the task immediately in front of you and not to visualise yourself dangling on a tiny rope, now 43 stories above Gotham. Soon enough, you feel Adrian’s strong hands on your waist as he helps you down beside him. Momentary relief floods your body when your feet meet the solid tile- now all you have to do is climb between rooms.

Over the sound of the storm, you hear a noise from upstairs. Adrian grabs you and flattens you against the wall, one gloved hand over your mouth and the other on the rope to stop it from swaying in the wind, attracting attention.

“She ain’t out here!” You hear a male voice yell.

“Of course, she ain’t- it’s a goddamn thunderstorm.”

The heat of Adrian’s body pressed up against yours, and the fleeting protection from the rain is welcome- you’re soaked through to the skin. You hear a phone ringing above.

“Mr Falcone? There’s no sign of her… I don’t know! She musta slipped past us- don’t worry, flash drive’s there… Yep, she took the money … Sure, let me check the tracker on it.”

Adrian tilts his head down to look at you through his visor, his eyes say, ‘I told you so’.

“It says she’s just outside the north side of the building- do you want me to go and get her?... Jeez! Okay, okay, I’m on it.” You hear the man shut the balcony door.

Adrian releases you and finds the opening of your clutch bag attached to his body to retrieve the stack of bills. Then, with tremendous power, he throws the band of money from the balcony, and you watch silently as the wind carries it, and it begins to plummet into the darkness of the city below.

You untangle the rope from the floors above and tie it neatly so Adrian can hook it back onto his belt.

“Let’s move,” he says, hopping over the railing. He jumps to the next balcony and over the railing with ease, waiting with one arm outstretched to help you across.

The gap is much bigger than it felt when you were abseiling down the middle of it. Your feet feel slippy in your open-toed, strappy heels as you lift yourself over the other side of the railing and adjust your stance, getting ready to jump.

“C’mon, Birdie. Three… two… one.”

You launch yourself to the next balcony and feel your ribs slam into the cold, wet barrier. Adrian grips your drenched upper arm and helps hoist you over. He places a hand on each of your arms and looks into your face as your teeth chatter in the cold.

“One more jump,” he says determinedly. “We can do it.” There’s no longer any trace of uncertainty in his voice. With precision, he turns and leaps onto the next balcony. On the other side, he once again extends his arm, ready to grab you.

You stand on the edge as another jagged spear of lighting cascades across the sky.

“Three… two… one,” says Adrian.

As you jump, your high heel catches on the bottom of the balustrade.

Fuck.

Time seems to slow down, and your stomach lurches nauseatingly as you fall.

You watch as your fingers slide down the glass side of the guardrail opposite. Catching yourself by your very fingertips, you manage to hang onto the balcony floor just in time. Before you can blink, Adrian reaches over with lightning reflexes and seizes your arm. He helps drag you up and over the barrier, where you land on the wet marble.

Adrian opens the sliding door of your room, and you both practically fall inside. You slam it shut behind you and lean against it, breathless. The silence of your quiet hotel room makes it feel like your ears are ringing. Until now, you hadn’t realised how deafening the rain had been.

“Whoo!” exclaims Adrian, and you watch him punch the air and circle his hips in a goofy little dance. “Yeah! We-did-it-baby!” He punctuates each syllable with a jab of his fist.

Despite the fact that you’re shivering in your saturated dress, now plastered to your body, you laugh at his ridiculous jubilation. Adrenaline pumps through you too- it was a close shave but you can’t let yourself think about how close you came to decorating the pavement below.

Adrian turns around.

“Shit, you’re freezing, B.”

“I’m fine.” You stand up and walk over to the bathroom. “Can you email Hartcourt and let her know we got the drive?”

“What’s on this thing anyway?”

“Blueprints for Arkham,” you call over your shoulder as your enter. You do a double take at the shaking, drowned figure looking back at you in the bathroom mirror as you hear Adrian unwrapping the duct tape securing the clutch to his body.

You slip off heels and your soaked dress and throw a hotel robe on. Grabbing a towel, you dry your hair as best you can and get it out of your face so you can wipe the running mascara from your wet cheeks.

“Birdie?”

You jump in fright for the second time this evening when you see a masked figure in the mirror behind you. It sends a jolt of panic through you until your brain processes that it’s just your boyfriend.

“Fuck, Adrian! You scared me.”

You’ve seen him as Vigilante plenty of times before, but tonight you can fully appreciate why he strikes fear into the hearts of criminals. He looks so intimidating, standing tall in his black suit, a stark contrast to your own white fluffy robe.

“Sorry.” He steps tentatively towards you. “I encrypted the files and sent them to Harcourt. Mission accomplished.”

He brings his arms around you to hug you from behind, and you lean back into his embrace, comforted by his touch even though your heart is still racing.

“That was fucking scary,” he murmurs into your neck through his mask after a few moments of silence.

“Just part of the job.”

“Birdie…”

“What?”

“Don’t bullshit me.” His visor meets your eyes in the mirror. “I know you’re tough, but that was a close fucking call out there.”

“I’m fine, Adrian-”

“You don’t have to pretend, B,” he cuts you off. “We’ll tell Harcourt and the guys that it was easy, but you don’t have to pretend like you’re not shaken up to me.”

You close your eyes and let the thoughts that have been bothering you just spill out.

“It just… it feels like you always have to save me somehow. On every single mission since I met you. And then on this one… I mean, I’m supposed you be showing you the ropes.”

“Birdie, I’m not saving you- we’re working as a team. And you are showing me how this stuff works. I would have killed every single one of those guys and tanked the whole operation if you hadn’t stopped me.”

He squeezes you gently - a simple gesture of reassurance, but you feel distinctly aware of his body pressed up against yours. You open your eyes, and seeing his broad figure enveloping yours from behind makes something low in your abdomen clench.

“They wouldn’t have stood a chance. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you in the bathroom mirror.” You guide his gloved hands to the belt of your robe. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, Adrian, I’d have thought that Vigilante was here to punish me for my crimes.”

He undoes your belt, and it drops to the floor.

“Uh, what crimes?” he swallows.

You shrug, and the robe falls off your left shoulder, exposing half of your body. “We just stole a flash drive - I think that counts as theft,” you suggest.

You’re not sure he even heard you as he stares at you in the mirror. He’s never seen you in lingerie before. Your usual sports bra and underwear are nowhere near this beautifully made, nor do they show off every curve of you perfectly the way this set does.

The imprint of his erection presses up against you, and he slides the robe off of your other shoulder so he can appreciate the full effect of you standing there.

Between hours of combat training and Adrian working his final few shifts at Fennel Fields, you’ve both been too busy to have sex since that night in the Corvette. Instead, falling into bed together, exhausted at the end of every day- battered and bruised from the rigorous practise Adrian has been putting you through to make sure your hand-to-hand and firearm skills are back up to scratch now that you’ve lost your powers.

“I always wondered if Vigilante was after me… if I could have persuaded him to spare me,” you say, pressing your ass against him.

He lifts his mask up over his mouth and kisses your neck, and you watch his sharp jaw move as he sucks on your skin. Adrian moves to take his mask off.

“Wait-” You grab his wrist. “- I want to feel like how all those other girls felt when they were fucked by Vigilante.”

“Woah, Birdie. I’ve never - ever- had sex with someone in exchange for letting them go.” He sounds offended. “That would be-”

“No, I know that. I just meant I know you’ve had sex wearing your mask,” you cut across him. “You’re a good man, and I know you’d never do that. But maybe you’d make an exception. Maybe Vigilante would stop being a good man for one night… for me.”

“I dunno B…”

“I can be persuasive,” you say, pressing back into him.

“Yeah, I bet. I just don’t know if you could handle it.”

Now it’s your turn to be offended. He sees your expression in the mirror and explains.

“When I’m Vigilante, there’s no kissing- nothing. It’s just fucking. Hard.”

“I-” This stuns you. “…How much harder can it get?”

“The safe word’s ‘Eagly’,” Adrian says, pulling the mask back down. A shudder goes through your spine at the tone of his voice. Something instantly feels different about him, like a silent shift occurred when he covered his face again.

Vigilante unclips the roll of duct tape from his belt and forces your arms behind your back. The tape rips and he binds your wrists together.

Oh.

He runs his gloved hands up your body, squeezing your tits through the lacy fabric. Heat seems to flood your underwear as you watch his hands, the feeling of his gloves so alien on your skin, examining your choice of underwear.

“What’s a petty little thief like you doing all dressed up like this?” he asks, reminding you absurdly of Falcone’s questioning earlier. “Did you know I was going to catch you?”

“It- it was a surprise for my boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah? Is he a criminal too?” You gasp when he pulls down the lace covering your tits, letting them spill out.

“He’s a killer. And he could kick your arse.”

Vigilante laughs. “Yeah, right.” His confident derisiveness makes your knees shake- you hold your breath waiting to find out what he’s going to do with you.

“Bite down on this.” He pushes his fingertips against your lips, and you feel the rough rubber grips on your mouth. You part your lips, welcoming the intrusion, close your teeth over his middle and index fingers, and let him slip his hand from the glove.

Vigilante pulls off his other glove and roughly pinches your nipples with his bare hands- you whimper, letting the glove fall to the bathroom floor.

“Was this expensive?” He drags his hands down your torso and toys with the hem of your underwear.

“Y-yes,” you answer truthfully.

He unsheathes his knife in one swift movement and cuts them off you.

“Your boyfriend can buy you a new pair with the money you got for stealing that drive,”

His knife clatters against the bathroom sink when he tosses it aside to unzip his trousers. Vigilante pushes his cock through the apex of your thighs, siding it along your folds. You squeeze your thighs together in burning anticipation as his cock lightly brushes against your clit.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking wet already. I can’t believe you’re getting off on this.”

Your whole lower body is on edge, tensing up as you watch in the mirror, the tip of his cock sliding between your thighs, made easy from your slick.

“God, you’re always so fucking ready for me. I mean-” He stumbles. “I mean, for the first time, you’re-”

“I always - always hoped you’d catch me eventually,” you interrupt, breathlessly grinding back against him.

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, and you whine as the hard ridge of his thick cock rubs back and forth against your clit. “Why’s that?”

“I knew- fuck- I knew I could get you to let me go.”

Vigilante pulls back and grips your hips, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes to match his height. Then, he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance.

“Who said anything about letting you go? I could just take you home with me. Keep using this wet little cunt.”

Oh, fuck.

“But you better fucking cum for me if you want to live.”

He sinks into you with a decisive thrust, forcing a gasp out of you. Your walls clench around his cock as he fills you up, grinding into you.

“Fuck,” you choke. “I’ve w-wanted you to take me like this for so long.”

It’s not a lie. You really have always wanted to fuck him in his mask.

Vigilante sets a pace in and out of you, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing in the dimly lit bathroom.

“Yeah, I bet you have... You’re such a fucking slut. Come on, fucking moan for me.”

You don’t need him to tell you to make noise for him. The whimper that escapes your lips as he pounds into you is feral.

Vigilante’s fingers thread through your hair, and he pulls your head up so you lock eyes with him in the mirror. His red-tinted glare is intense; you’ve only ever seen him so focused like this when he’s fighting- and you’ve never been on the receiving end of this particular stare of his. You know this must be what the lawbreakers in Evergreen experience when they find out Vigilante’s coming after them.

“C’mon, look at me when you take it.”

You can only gasp for air in response as you watch his other hand slide around your torso to work firm circles over your clit. The sensation brings you dangerously closer to the brink, and you push your hips back into him, already desperate for your fast-approaching orgasm.

“Hey,” he growls, his grip tightening in your hair and jerking your head back up. “I said, look at me.”

Oh, god.

All you can do is stand there and let him use you. He thrusts into you, hitting just that right spot while you writhe on your tiptoes.

“Fuck, fucking look at you.” Your cheeks burn, listening to the continuous, wet, sloppy sounds of him burying himself into your pussy, amplified by the echo of the tile. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Oh fuck,” you sob as he rubs harshly on your clit. “Oh my god, Adrian, I’m-”

“Who’s Adrian?” Vigilante says through gritted teeth. “Your boyfriend? He’s not gonna save you this time, you desperate fucking slut.”

Holy shit.

The atmosphere is sucked out of the air as you gasp for breath. Seeing stars, your vision blurs as the waves of your orgasm begin to crash over you.

You can’t control yourself as you whine and cry out shamelessly while he fucks into you, pounding your g-spot over and over and over and over, rubbing his calloused fingers on your clit.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill up your tight little cunt-”

Your sob interrupts him as you feel your walls pulsing around his cock. He pushes as deep into you as your body allows, and the scream that you unleash is so loud that it seems to bounce off the tiled walls and-

CRASH

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes- bring it down for me, baby,” you hear him sucking through his teeth as his cock throbs, spurting hot liquid inside you.

You ignore the ringing in your ears and keep pressing back, riding out the last of your orgasm.

Fuck, your legs are weak from standing up on your toes. He grabs you tightly before you can fall forwards.

You blink.

The bathroom mirror has smashed into a million pieces all over the sink and floor.

No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. This isn’t possible.

“Uh, Birdie…” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to come to terms with the scene before you. “Can I kiss you yet?” he asks.

You nod. He rips off his mask and tilts your head up to kiss him.

His hand is wrapped around your jaw as he kisses you, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You can feel his effort to put a lot of tenderness into the kiss, to slowly bring you both back to reality. It makes your chest swell- you want to caress his face too but-

“Stay still a sec.” He reaches around you and carefully extracts his knife from under the pile of broken glass in the sink so he can cut your wrists free. You shake your shoulders from the awkward position and allow him to spin you around, careful that you don’t stand on any pieces of the shattered mirror and scoop you up. Your still shaking knees wrap around his waist, and you hear his combat boots crunching on the glass as he carries you out of the bathroom and over to the bed.

Adrian unclips his chest plate and places it on the hotel room armchair. You watch silently as he strips from his rain-soaked suit to his boxers, hanging everything up neatly so it can dry. He does the same with your discarded dress, and you feel like your heart might burst as you watch him tidying up after you.

He crashes down on the bed, exhausted, puts his glasses back on and pulls you into a cuddle.

“There’s not much we can do about the mirror without a broom.”

The smashed glass is the least of your worries. You give him an incredulous look and point to your throat.

“I’m pretty sure you can still talk, B.”

You shake your head, eyes burning as you try not to look up at him.

“C’mon- try. You’ve been talking for weeks now. You just haven’t screamed… like that.”

Haven’t I? Wait-

You remember in the Corvette when he made you cum. And now, come to think of it… you’re pretty sure your face was buried in his neck, so your moan of pleasure was muffled.

And the doctor… the doctor did say they’d removed most of the growths on your vocal cords. Is it really possible your powers would only work when you actually screamed? Could you be that lucky? To have control of your abilities and to be with just the right person to test it out? It feels like more than you deserve.

Adrian.

Your stomach twists. You could have killed Adrian if you’d been facing the other way.

“I-” you say tentatively, sitting up and looking away from Adrian just in case. “I feel sick”.

Anxiety swirls in your stomach as you think about how close you’d come to killing him with your scream. You flop back onto the bed, your head in your hands.

“Nothing bad happened! Just a smashed mirror.”

“Adrian, I could have killed you.” You gulp, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“But you didn’t!”

“Adrian-”

“Well, you almost died tonight. So now we’re even because I almost died tonight. Shouldn’t we be bonding over the shared trauma?”

“Not funny.”

“If you think about it- it kind of is. Peacemaker would be cracking up right now if he knew you almost killed me.”

You cross your arms.

He has a goofy grin plastered over his face. “Am I gonna have to tickle you to make you laugh?”

You can’t help yourself crack a smile. He’s so stupidly carefree, even in the face of death. But it makes you soften all the same.

“Don’t you dare, Adrian Chase, or I’ll scream again.” You scramble away from his outstretched hands, but he grabs you, pinning you to the bed.

“See?” his fingers dig into your forearms as he plants kisses all over your face and chest, his slightly stubbly chin tickling your skin gently. “Look who’s making jokes now.”

You look up into his green eyes as he looms over you with a totally different energy than when he was in his Vigilante suit.

“You’re so mean and scary as Vigilante,” you pout.

“Well, you deserve it for being a big meanie the rest of the time,” he retorts and nibbles on your neck. “And that’s big talk for someone who nearly created her own supervillain origin story.”

The weight of him on you feels right somehow. Like you’ve been sleeping without a blanket your whole life, and now you have one. And it’s all yours.

You’ve never felt so happy and content than when you’re with him. The sharp edges of you feel like they’re being slowly worn down by his presence.

You want to say something to him, but you’re not sure how.

“Do you think you’re in love with me?” you ask, staring at the ceiling.

“Weird way to tell me that you’re actually in love with me,” Adrian mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You laugh and try to think of something to change the subject, but he interrupts your train of thought.

“I know you are Birdie.” He says bluntly. He’s not making fun of you- he’s being sincere in the way that he always is when you need it most. “And I know you have a hard time saying stuff like that even though you’ve got your voice back.”

You can’t believe Adrian is being the more socially astute of the two of you.

“I-” You need to say it out loud. Get over this emotional barrier. For him. “I do. I do love you.”

“I knew that. You wouldn’t have moved from London if you didn’t. I love you too.”

“Well, obviously.” You say playfully because he knows you can be unserious for him when he needs it too.

He presses his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes, returning your grin.

“You know we’ve never had sex in an actual bed,” you say, bringing your legs up and crossing your calves behind his waist.

He looks up over his glasses, pausing in thought.

“You’re right!”

Adrian suddenly clamps his hand over your mouth and lowers his lips to your ear. You squirm in delight.

“Let’s fix that.”

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