#vigilante imagine

[tropes-and-tales]

Five Times Vigilante Definitely Does Not Have Feelings (and the One Time He Does)

Characters:  Adrian Chase/Vigilante x f!reader

CW:  Crude language; yearning.

Word Count:  3982

Adrian Chase will tell anyone:  he doesn’t have emotions like people do.  He doesn’t feel sad or angry or embarrassed.  When Peacemaker gave him the nickname “Thimble,” he certainly didn’t cry.  When Peacemaker was sent to prison, he certainly didn’t feel lonely.  

Not having emotions is what makes him a more evolved human.

And yet, when ARGUS springs Peacemaker and sets up a black ops outfit in Evergreen, Adrian finds himself toeing the line of feelings.  He doesn’t have emotions like people do, but he comes awfully close a handful of times…until he crosses the line entirely.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Vulnerable

As the Vigilante, Adrian gets hurt all the time.  He’s become proficient at stitching up his own wounds.  His body is littered with the scars of his own handiwork.

But when Goff tortures him for information, and when the ARGUS team comes to his and Peacemaker’s rescue, he finds himself missing half of a pinkie toe.  It’s the most important toe on the human body, and he’ll probably never walk again…and no one seems to care.

Except for you.  In the van as they return to headquarters, you sit across from him, watching him as he studies his mangled foot.  You murmur something that sounds sympathetic, but he barely hears it over Peacemaker laughing at him.

At headquarters, you look at him and jerk your head in the direction of the back office.

“I can stitch you up, if you want,” you offer. 

He starts to shake his head, but the mean blonde woman—Harcourt, her name is—makes an offhand comment about your superior patch-up abilities, so he accepts your help.  He limps painfully behind you, follows you into a room that has been converted into a rough sort of exam room and budget clinic.

“Hop up on the table,” you tell him, and even though he doesn’t trust you—or any of your team—he does as you say.  It’s clumsy.  He hurts in a hundred different places:  his half-amputated toe, his electrocuted crotch, all the scrapes and bruises from the fight with Cobra Kai. 

“I won’t take off my mask,” he warns you.  “I take my secret identity very seriously.  If you saw my face, I’d have to kill you.”

“Duly noted,” you reply dryly.  “But I only need to see your foot.”

He pulls off his boot and regards his mangled half-pinkie toe sadly.  You pull on a pair of latex gloves and turn on a bright lamp, angling it at his bare foot.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say as you prod the wound gently.  “In fact, you really didn’t lose anything but a couple layers of skin.”

“The blade was as dull as fuck,” he replies. 

You wheel your stool over to a cabinet, then pull out some supplies:  needle and thread, disinfectant, gauze and tape.  Then you wheel back over to him and set to work.

The mean blonde woman was right—you’re quick, efficient.  He looks down at your bent head as you stitch him up, and he sees that your needlework is better than his own.  He doubts he’ll even have much of a scar once it heals.

But it’s the strange feeling that creeps over him:  makes his vision waver, makes him feel a little light-headed.  Your hands are deft but also gentle.  Adrian can’t remember ever being touched so gently.  Maybe when he was really small.  Maybe his mom was gentle like that when he was so small that he can’t remember it now.  It makes him break out in goosebumps.  He shudders at the touch of your warm hand bracing his foot, and you misunderstand the involuntary gesture.

“Almost done,” you murmur, and a moment later you tie off the last stitch and snip the thread.  You wrap his toe in gauze, pat his knee softly in a reassuring way.  Then you straighten up and ask if there’s any other injuries he needs patched up.

“Goff electrocuted me,” he blurts out.  “With a car battery.”

You look at him, level, but the corner of your mouth quirks in a near-smile.  “You want me to look at that for you?”

“Oh, no.  No.  No, I just wanted to mention it.  I’m not asking you to look at it.”  He’s grateful for the mask; he can feel his face heating up at the idea of taking off his suit in front of you, and the sudden flush confuses him.  Irritates him.  Something about the thought of being exposed makes his stomach churn in a way he doesn’t understand.

You hum thoughtfully, then turn back to the cabinet of supplies.  You rummage around, then pull out a small white tube that you hand him.

“Antibiotic gel for cuts and burns,” you say.   “You can put a cool cloth on…well, any burns you may have.  If there’s blistering, don’t pop them.”

“Okay.”

“And, you know…if you have any lingering side effects of being electrocuted, you should see a specialist.”

Vigilante reaches down and pulls his boot back on, but already his toe feels better.  “What sort of side effects?” he asks.

He looks up at you in time to see that same half-smile.  You peel off your gloves, toss them in the trash.  

“I can imagine where you were electrocuted,” you reply.  “So if those parts don’t typically work the way you’re used to, see a real doctor.”

Adrian Chase is not good at nuance or subtlety.  “Huh?”

You blink at him before you say, “if you can’t get or maintain an erection, see a urologist.”

“Oh.”  He blinks too, behind his visor.  “Okay.”

You turn to leave the room but then glance over your shoulder before you do.  “Thanks for your help tonight,” you say.  “The mission was a success because of you.”

Neither Vigilante nor Adrian Chase ever get any thanks.  He flushes even hotter under his mask, and he grumbles in reply, uncomfortable to be seen, to be recognized for the first time.

To be vulnerable.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Embarrassed

The next afternoon, he’s at Peacemaker’s trailer, helping him clean up from when the police tossed the place.  They are blasting Guns and Roses, drinking beer…it’s like the old days, almost.

A knock at the door then, and Adrian has only a second to pull on his mask before you stroll in.

“Hey, Chris.  Vigilante.”  You nod in greeting, then reach into your bag to pull out a thick manila folder.  You hand it to Peacemaker.

“Murn wanted me to bring this by.  It’s the latest intel we got from Goff’s place.”  

You stand there as Chris takes the folder and sinks down onto his couch, already paging through the information.  Vigilante stands there too, awkward, so he crosses his arms to keep from fidgeting.  There’s a long stretch of silence once the Guns and Roses record ends, and Vigilante struggles with silence.

“I got hard last night,” he tells you.  “And this morning too.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” Peacemaker sputters.  “She doesn’t want to hear that!”

“She mentioned it last night!”

Peacemaker scoffs, twists his face into an expression of disbelief.  “Yeah, I’m sure she mentioned your dick last night.  Sure.  Okay.  Fantasize much?”

“She did!”

“You seriously need to get laid, dude.  Stop making shit up.”

“He’s not lying,” you tell Peacemaker with a sheepish shrug.  “Though I mentioned it in the context of his injuries and not…some other context.”

“See?”  Vigilante says, and Peacemaker rolls his eyes, makes a jacking-off motion with his hand.

You don’t linger.  You beat a hasty retreat, waving over your shoulder as you leave the trailer, and Peacemaker gives him more hell—calls him weird, calls him annoying.

“No wonder you’ve never had a real girlfriend, dude,” he says as he turns back to his folder of intel.  “You say the creepiest shit the minute a cute girl is around.”

Vigilante doesn’t think about it much more until later.  That night, in bed, he lies awake for far longer than he usually does.  He replays that moment, tries to understand why he just blurted that out.  

He wonders if you would have stayed at the trailer longer if he hadn’t been creepy.  His face burns in the darkness of his bedroom, and his stomach twists painfully as he replays the moment over and over.  He replays his stupid blurting out about his dick, and he has no idea what it means.  He never obsesses over his stupid mouth like this.

If he had feelings like other people, he’d recognize the emotion as embarrassment.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Despondent (and Comforted)

Adrian gets himself arrested on purpose.  It’s the best way he can help Chris:  get arrested, get booked into the same prison as Chris’ racist supervillain father, then kill said racist supervillain father.

Easy enough.  It’d set Chris free and make his life so much better.  Allow him to move forward and not be bogged down, like Adebayo said.

Adrian fails.  He only manages to make things worse—clues Auggie into his plan accidentally, possibly points law enforcement in Chris’ direction.  So Adrian doesn’t just fail—he fails miserably.

He’s released that night.  He’s surprised at first, but as he changes back into his clothes and collects his personal effects from the guards, he realizes that ARGUS has its sticky fingers in all sorts of things and probably sprung him with just a few keystrokes.

When he leaves the prison, you’re sitting out front in your car.  You lower the passenger window and call out to him.

“C’mon,” you say.  “Harcourt sent me to take you home.”

He’s too upset to even feel bad about his cover being blown.  He climbs into the car.

“I think I made things worse,” he says, and he tries not to cry.  He only wanted to help his best friend (even if he’s not Peacemaker’s best friend).  Somehow he messed up, and it could ruin everything.  

“Okay,” you reply softly.  “It’s okay.”

You drive him home.  He doesn’t give you his address, but you know it—another screw-up, he thinks, getting tangled up with people who easily cracked his secret identity.  You know his name, his face, where he lives.  Some instrument of vengeance he is.  You probably even recognize him from his job at Fennel Fields.

Outside of his apartment, you park, then turn to face him.  In the half-light from the streetlamps, he can just make out your soft smile.

“This entire ops is nothing but mistakes,” you tell him.  “And yet, we’re doing okay.  We’ll figure out how to handle Auggie Smith.  Don’t worry about it.”

He nods, and something about the barest bit of comfort—paired with your smile—makes him turn to face you too.  

“I’m Adrian,” he says, even though you know his name.

Your smile broadens and you say your name, even though he knows it.  You hold out your hand and after a beat he takes it.

“Good to finally meet you, Adrian,” you reply as you shake hands.  

For whatever reason, as low as he feels, he falls asleep that night with a weird lightness in his chest—because he doesn’t dwell on his failure at the prison.  

Instead, he falls asleep with the memory of your smile, your kind words.  Your warm hand in his.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Protective

The attack on Goff’s house yielded some leads, and the team travels three hours away to take out a nest of Butterflies.  Everyone is exhausted, filthy, and bruised up.  

It’s in the van—you sitting beside Adrian—when you start to nod off.  He catches it the first few times, the way your head dips forward, the way you jerk back awake.  It’s cute, the way you fight sleep, and then it happens.

You fall asleep and you don’t wake up.  Your head drifts towards him, then settles against his shoulder.

Adrian freezes.  

He and Peacemaker—they used to go out together, looking for crimes or bitches or both.  He’s no virgin.  He fucks.  He’s no stranger to touch, and he’s certainly no stranger to women.  And yet…this feels different.  It feels new.

Peacemaker notices.  “You got a new girlfriend, dude,” he points out with a laugh.

Harcourt rolls her eyes at the teasing.  “Leave her alone.  She puts in way more hours than you, asshole.”

“I put in plenty of hours,” he replies, defensive.  “It takes a lot of time to maintain this impressive physique.  Do you know how long I work on my small muscle groups alone?”

Harcourt rolls her eyes again, then returns her attention to her phone.  Peacemaker turns back to where Adrian sits, rigid, as you sleep against him.

“If you get hard, just don’t tell her about it,” he advises the younger man.  “You’ll creep her out again.”

It’s strange, the feeling of your head against him.  It’s not sexy at all, obviously—in fact, it’s a little uncomfortable.  He doesn’t want to move you, doesn’t want to jostle you and wake you up.  Harcourt said you’re tired, and you took a hell of a beating as you fought the Butterflies.  

Adrian has always approached his work as Vigilante from a perspective of vengeance, not protection, so the feeling is strange:  how he wants to let you sleep, how he wants to protect your sleep.  How he wants to make you comfortable.

A quiet falls over the team; the swaying of the van lulls everyone into comfortable silence.  Adrian breathes in carefully through his nose, then shifts his body.  Slowly, carefully.  He leans away from you, allows you to lie against him more.  He changes the angle enough that he can get his arm out from where it’s trapped between your body and his.  He shifts again, gets his arm around you.  Gently moves you—changes it from your head awkwardly pressed against his hard molded shoulder pad to your head tucked against his chest.

You wake, a little, as he moves you.  You blink up at him sleepily, say his name—Adrian, not Vigilante or Vig or V—and your voice is husky with exhaustion.  There’s a questioning lilt to how you say his name, so he shakes his head softly.

“Go ahead and rest,” he says, quiet.  “Everything’s fine.”

You nod, then settle back against him.  It takes only a moment until he feels your breathing slow down, deepen.  He feels your body go heavy and lax against him.  Tucked against his chest, his arm holding you against him, he can smell you, feel how warm you are.  If he moves his head just a little, he can press his cheek against the top of your head.

Go ahead and rest, he thinks.  Everything’s fine.  I’ll keep you safe.

Vigilante has always been an instrument of vengeance, but this is the first time he’s felt protective of anyone.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Fear

The 11th Street Kids have one chance to eradicate the Butterflies forever:  if they can kill their only food source, the so-called cow, they will eventually all die off.  When they make their final assault on the farm, the team splits up:  Adebayo and Economos stay back, while the warriors—Peacemaker, Vigilante, Harcourt, and you—charge into action.

Whether the cow is killed or not, Adrian doesn’t find out until after the battle is over.  He fights off the onslaught of Butterflies, but for the first time, his attention isn’t entirely on his own fight.

His attention is on you, now, too.  

He manages to keep you in his sightline for the beginning of the fight.  He sees you, admires the sight of you when you’re in your berserker mode:  furious and deadly, well-fitted black suit, guns flashing as you empty clip after clip into the skulls of the Butterflies.  

Then he loses sight of you. 

His chest clenches in an unfamiliar tension, and when he finally catches sight of you again, that tight-chest feeling cedes to something else, something worse:  an ice-cold shard of fear that lances through him, settles in his gut where it sits like a stone.

When he finally catches sight of you, it’s the exact moment you are shot by a Butterfly.

One shot hits your shoulder, spins you around.

Another shot hits you square in the chest, makes you stagger backwards as the force is absorbed by your vest.

The final shot hits you low in the belly, and Adrian (who has studied your gear closely) knows you have little protection there.  The icy fear blooms in him, fills up every bit of him until it feels like it’s in his veins.

He screams your name.  He barely even feels the bullet that hits him (“oh, shoot” he mutters, and tosses a knife behind him to kill his own attacker), but then he stumbles and falls, and he loses consciousness.

He wakes a moment later.  He has no idea how much time has passed, but he manages to get to his hands and knees, then to his feet.  He makes his way to where you fell and he finds you.  

It’s bad.  It’s so bad that the icy fear turns acidic in his veins, makes him burn with fear.  With terror.  You gaze up at him but you don’t seem to see him, and each breath makes a fresh pulse of blood trickle from your mouth.

Adrian has never been very good at social situations.  He never knows the right thing to say and if he does, he doesn’t know the right time to say it.  He wishes these things came more easily to him; if it were Chris here right now instead of him, Chris would know the right thing to say.  He’d know how to keep you awake, how to give you comfort.

All Adrian can offer is what you told him the night he got out of prison, when you drove him home.  Now, as you lie under the night sky, dying in front of him, as he presses one hand against the worst wound to try and staunch the bleeding, he repeats your words back to him.

“It’s okay,” he says, and he says it over and over and hopes you believe it.  “It’s okay.  It’s okay.  It’s okay.”

The Time Vigilante Definitely Feels Love

You have no memory of the fight at the farm.  The last thing you remember is the drive there, but everything after is a blank.  Adebayo stops by when you finally wake up and fills you in on the salient details.  

She tells you how Vigilante—who was also shot, who had been blown up earlier in the day—carried you to safety.  How he kept you from bleeding out, how he held your very life in his hands and kept you from dying.  How hospital security had to separate him from you, once you were laid out on the gurney and being wheeled into surgery.

How he still tried to fight to stay by your side, and how he only failed because of his own injuries and blood loss.

“That man is stupid crazy about you,” Adebayo chuckles with a shake of her head.  “I don’t even think he’s really a psychopath.”

You chuckle with her, wince when the action pulls at the thousand stitches and staples that are keeping you held together.  “He’s not bad, right?”

“We’re literally the Island of Misfit toys,” she replies.  “But yeah, he’s alright.”

-----

Adrian is hospitalized too, and once he’s healed up to a point, he starts sneaking into your room to visit.  It’s not really sneaking—every time he undoes his IV and heart monitor, it sends the nurses into a panic—but after Adebayo’s press conference revealing the existence of Task Force X, the hospital staff is pretty tolerant of his harmless shenanigans. 

He helped ward off an alien invasion, after all.  You both did.

You have to agree with Adebayo.  You’ve never quite believed that Adrian is a psychopath or a sociopath or whatever.  You certainly never believed him when he said he didn’t have feelings or emotions.  The guy is nothing but a walking ball of emotions:  obvious love for his friends, a yearning to belong, a sweet desire to be liked and included.  Sure, he kills without compunction, but he seems to love in equal measure, even if he doesn’t believe he does.

When he visits you, he doesn’t talk about feelings.  He chatters endlessly about his and Peacemaker’s exploits—criminals they’ve busted, ways they’ve destroyed old appliances in the woods behind Peacemaker’s trailer.  He talks about how it was when Peacemaker was in prison, how he kept calling and leaving voicemails to make it seem like everything was normal.  He talks about his job at Fennel Fields, all the terrible customer service stories he has.

He discharges himself against the advice of the doctors (he’s healed enough, he tells you), and you think he’ll stop visiting, but he doesn’t.  He visits every day still, and when you start physical therapy to build up the muscle tone and endurance you’ve lost, he sits in a nearby chair, watching you.  Cheering you on.

Adebayo wasn’t wrong.  You know Adrian has feelings for you.  You’re more socially adept than him, and you’ve had relationships before.  You’ve had crushes and been the object of them.  You guessed his infatuation early on, and you can guess that it’s only grown for him since then.

It probably confuses him, you guess.  You know what love feels like.  What a crush feels like.  All that feeling, in so many places:  the fluttery stomach, the pounding heart, the thoughts that just circle ‘round and ‘round about a single person.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have similar feelings for him.  He’s easy on the eyes, sure—but he’s earnest and sweet, a brutal killer with a heart of gold.

You can also guess that Adrian might never make a move.  This has to be unfamiliar territory for him.  You know he’s no virgin (he’s chattered endlessly about his and Peacemaker’s exhaustive threesomes too), but he seems to have no relationship experience.

But your entire short working relationship with him has been give and take.  You stitched him up, comforted him when he was feeling low after his failed attempt to kill Auggie Smith.  He let you rest against him, held you gently as you slept after a mission.  He saved your life, kept you from bleeding out.

Give and take.  The best kind of relationship, in your opinion.

“Hey, Adrian,” you say one afternoon after PT.  You’re exhausted and sore, but you’re quickly approaching your own discharge.  You are healing up nicely.  You have things to look forward to.

“What’s up?” he asks, and he bounces over to your bedside like a Golden Retriever puppy, eager.

“Doctor says I’m good to go in a few days.”

“That’s great!”  His face breaks open in a wide grin that transforms him from nerdy-handsome to downright gorgeous.  “That’s good news!”

You swallow, push down the nerves that flare up.  “I thought maybe we could celebrate.”

“Yeah!”  He grins at you.  “I can call Chris—”

“I thought maybe just me and you,” you cut in, clarifying.  “Just this time.  Maybe we include Chris some other time.”

“Oh.”  The smile falls from his face, and he looks at you.  His brows are knit in confusion.  

No sense in backtracking now.  “Like a date.  Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh.”  A beat.  “With me?  Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

What you’re asking him finally sinks in—a beat longer than it might with someone else, but that’s just part of Adrian’s charm.  The smile returns to his face, brighter and wider than before.

“Yeah,” he replies.  “Hell yeah, dude.  I’d love that.”

#adrian chase #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase x reader #vigilante #vigilante imagine #vigilante x reader #peacemaker #tropes-and-tales

[multifandomfanficss]

F*ck You?

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

and the rest of the 11th Street Kids

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: Adrian has his own secret way of asking you to sleep with him.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, but no actual sex. The team bullying Adrian as per cannon ☹️. Peacemaker typical language.

A/N: Just a silly little thought I had at 5am during a text convo with one of my best friends when I couldn’t sleep. Shout out Tyler for letting me bounce this idea off you. Thanks bestie! Just a short little fic. The italics are flashbacks. Crossposting on my AO3 adriansglasses.

Adrian stuck his middle finger up, pointed at you. You were going through some files on the other side of the room unable to see him behind the papers you were focusing on. Those who saw were giving him questioning looks.

“Dude why are you flipping off, (Y/N)? I didn’t realize you were mad at them” Economos decided to be the first to question him. Usually he didn’t care enough to ask, but even he was curious as to why Adrian was enthusiastically flipping you off.

“Oh! That’s because I’m not. I just wanna have sex when we get back to my apartment. I was saying can I fuck you.” Adrian says, as if it’s obvious. Chris begins to laugh, having overheard the conversation.

“Oh my god. I’m not sure if you’re insane or an idiot.” Harcourt rolls her eyes, walking away.

“I’m pretty sure he’s both. You know that’s not what that means right?” Economos questions.

“It has two meanings.” Adrian says in a very matter of fact way.

“No, it doesn’t.” John argues.

“Then how do they always know what I mean?” Adrian asks, as if he’s proving his point.

Chris continues to laugh to himself as Adrian and Economos argue.

You’re deep in thought, not paying them any attention when Leota passes you the file you were looking for.

“Thanks!” You smile at her.

“Why is Adrian flipping you off?” She asks.

You look over at him, blushing. You nod.

“See!” Adrian yells throwing up his arms. “Two meanings! I told you!”

“Oh god.” You blush, hiding your face in one of the files. You didn’t need the entire team knowing you were going home to have sex after this, but it’s not like it was that big of a surprise. You’d been dating Adrian for a while, of course you had a sex life. “I don’t know how or why he got it into his head that fuck you means can I fuck you- but like I personally think it’s very clever and very cute so I just don’t correct him.” You laugh, deciding to be honest with Leota.

You thought back to the first time he flipped you off in such a manner. You were out with the team celebrating with drinks after a mission. He threw up his middle finger, drawing a question mark in the air with the other hand. You looked at him with a confused look and mouthed. ‘Are you asking me to have sex with you?’ and he mouth back, ‘Isn’t it obvious?’. Only Adrian could think something like that was obvious. Only Adrian would even do something like that. You smiled, laughing quietly to yourself. It was so uniquely him.

Chris was still laughing uncontrollably in the back. He was thinking of the first time he’d seen Adrian do this too. Little did everyone else know Chris had been the one to teach it to him long before you were dating.

“You really wanna know how I pick up chicks across the bar?” Chris asked with a shit eating smirk.

“Please!” Adrian begged. He could pull girls as Vigilante no problem, but it was a lot harder without the suit.

“Be direct. Just ask if she wants to go home with you. The most subtle way to be direct is to flip her off.” Chris falsely informs.

“Wait… you want me to be subtle and direct? I’m confused.” Adrian asks.

“Well, yeah. You want her to know, not the whole bar.” Chris quickly lies.

“I always thought flipping somebody off was an insult.” Adrian is rightfully cautious.

“It has two meanings. It’s like special. Special can mean you’re one of a kind, cool, awesome, or it could be used the other way.” Chris explains.

“Oh! Okay!” Adrian smiles, before pausing, with a pondering facial expression. “Wait! You call me special all the time.”

“You should hit on that girl over there!” Chris redirects.

“Okay… here goes nothing…” Adrian says, slowly raising his middle finger. The girl looks shocked and starts to walk up to the two men at the bar. “Oh wow! I think it worked!”

Her pace picks up. She walks up to Adrian, slapping him, hard.

“Wait! This is positive! I’m hitting on you!” Adrian says frantically with his finger still up, as she walks away.

“Aw! Fuck! Do you think maybe she had a boyfriend?” Adrian asks, adjusting his glasses and rubbing his jaw.

“Yeah, maybe.” Chris laughs hysterically.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #peacemaker #vigilante x reader #vigilante #freddie stroma #adrian chase x you #vigilante x you #vigilante oneshot #vigilante fanfic #vigilante fanfiction #vigilante dc #vigilante imagine #adrian chase oneshot #adrian chase fanfiction #adrian chase fanfic #adrian chase imagine #leota adebayo #john economos #Chris smith #christopher smith #peacemaker hbo max #peacemaker fanfic #peacemaker fanfiction #peacemaker dc #emilia harcourt #11th street kids x reader #11th street kids

[seancekitsch]

Setting: Cabin

Genre: Mystery 

Trope: Undercover Married 

Prompt: On a roadtrip together 

Kink: Exhibitionism

from the fic prompt generator with Adrian?

ok i hope you were hoping for a full on fic bc here it is

Being Watched

smut, basically the prompt, i got carried away

“Adebayo I just don’t understand why we have to be married on all of these missions,” you sigh into the receiver of your burner phone, the sound of the shower in the cabin drowning out any possibility of your best friend hearing. The shitty flip phone looks ridiculous, and anyone would peg you as undercover at this resort. There are senators here, senators who very well could be butterflies, and you’re here with a flip phone in the honeymoon cabin after driving 6 hours in the Vigilante-Mobile with Adrian singing along to Carly Rae Jepsen. Not that you minded that part, you sang along with him and fed him sour gummy worms while he got you there safely. 

“You guys just… work like that,” she responds, not even trying to hide her snickering on the other end. She’s right, check in at the resort went smoothly because Adrian slipped his right arm around your waist and made a show of waving around his wedding ring to all of the staff, kissing the side of your head and gushing about how excited he was that the bed was one of those vintage round ones from the 70s in the cabin. You yourself couldn’t stop blushing while you curled into him and clutched your suitcase close. You looked like a couple madly in love. Leota reminds you to keep your head on straight and to stay safe and all the other things you have to do before you’re rushing off the phone because you hear the shower stop. 

It’s only a few moments until your friend, your best friend, comes out of the little bathroom of the cabin with nothing but a towel draped low around his hips. 

Fuck, this was going to be harder than you thought.

But wasn’t it always? Don’t you always go through this? Adrian always parades around the hotel or villa or cabin you’re in with that damn wedding ring on his finger and you always practically jump out of your skin, itching to move closer to him under the sheets at night or to kiss his lips in private, away from potential counter surveillance. 

A part of you suspects this is just a forced proximity thing. You didn’t always want to fall into bed with your best friend since high school, and you didn’t always wish the wedding rings were real. But now you do, sometimes overwhelmingly so…

“What? Did I scrub too hard and accidentally wipe a nipple off?”

Fuck, you’ve been staring, checking him out like some kind of perv. You shake your head, nervous that somehow Adrian gained the ability to read minds or something from too many hits to the head. 

“Nope, I didn’t,” he confirms to himself, looking down at his bare chest to check. 

“Sorry, Ade, I must have zoned out,” you physically shake yourself out of it. You can do this. 

“Are you gonna shower too?” he asks, and you swear he’s flexing now, his biceps chiseled and shiny in the lamplight. You never thought of yourself as the type to go after muscular dudes, and you still aren’t really, Adrian is just an exception. 

You nod, quickly rifling through your bag for your toiletries and speeding to the bathroom door for some privacy.

The click of the door in the latch triggers a sigh you didn’t realize was building in your chest. Just three more days, you tell yourself, three more days of this week long recon mission and you could go home, scrub the smell of his cologne off of you and touch yourself until you passed out to get rid of all this tension in your body.

You fiddle with the nob on the shower and shed your clothes quickly to jump under the slightly too hot spray. 

This is exactly what you needed. You let the steam rolling off the tiles and your skin evaporate all the tension in your muscles and your mind. You relax fully. Maybe you can just spend the rest of the night in bed watching shitty cable movies and laughing and your feelings can bury themselves for the evening. 

Your relaxation is short lived, though. 

“Hey Honey?” Adrian calls through the door; Honey is the codename for when things go sour. Shit. 

“Can I come in?”

You fiddle with the nob and quickly end your shower, lucky to be done with the shampoo so you can hastily grab the towel and wrap it around you. 

“Of course, Sugar!” you call, back, quickly unlocking the door and open it for him to scurry in, now clad in his sweatpants and an athletic training top that truly did you no favors in sparing you from his looks. He presses his back against the door, looking up around the perimeters of the ceiling. 

“What’s going on?” you whisper, clutching your towel tighter to yourself. 

“We’re being watched,” Adrian tells you, pushing up his glasses and only letting his eyes dart briefly to your body, “I just saw one of the cameras turn on, little red light next to the smoke detector.”

“There’s supposed to be a light, Ade,” you sigh, “There’s supposed to be a red light. That means it's working to y’know, detect smoke.”

You roll your eyes and turn away from him, grabbing the loose sweatshirt you brought in here and bringing it down around you without disrupting the towel; a talent you mastered from having to bunk with the guys on too many occasions.

“No that’s—“ Adrian stops himself and curses under his breath, “I know that. You have a smoke detector in your apartment.”

You snap your head up to look at him while you grab your sweatshorts. 

“Why do you say that like your apartment doesn’t have a smoke detector?”

Adrian just smiles at you. 

“Okay,” you physically shake your head to keep yourself from doing the mental gymnastics on that one, pulling your shorts over your thighs, “So, typical plan H?” 

You hate plan H. Plan H is a fake-out make-out until whoever is watching stops. You’ve done this countless times, and never has it gotten easier. Once you stop kissing its back to the normal friend shit and the ice cold longing that sinks into your gut. Every time his lips fall on yours you beg and pray to any god that will listen that this will be real, that you won't stop once you realize the coast is clear. Every time he makes you moan it's for real, and he always compliments your acting skills. You’re a shit fucking actor and you know it. You thought he knew it too, for how well he knew you. 

You sigh.

“Plan H it is,” and you towel off your hair as much as possible. It's going to get ruined and you'll just have to re-shower in the morning. But if it gets surveillance out of your room, its worth the risk. No one ever wants to watch “newlyweds” go at it. He watches you squeeze the excess moisture from your hair with an expression you can’t exactly place. With Adrian, it’s usually so easy to tell how he’s feeling. Somehow, he never learned how to hide himself or how to be sarcastic or to read emotions. But this look in his eyes you can’t figure out; it’s dark and far off and seems to be trained on your knees of all places, from what you can tell of blotting your hair upside down.

This dance is like all the rest. You come barreling out of the bathroom all hand and lips and limbs and he practically throws you on the rounded mattress. Its like this every time, you throw your leg over his hip and he licks at your jaw and you moan and you cry out genuinely because you're sensitive and you love it.

You let yourself fall onto your back, not even putting your elbows down to break your fall. Adrian’s arms quickly cage you down like a vice, his entire body pushing onto yours, his weight apparent but not crushing. 

“Fuck, I’m so glad I can call you my wife,” he says, looking into your eyes but loud enough for any camera to hear. You roll your neck back, opening it up for him to kiss the full expanse of it and play the role of dutiful lover.

“My love,” you gasp, his mouth latching onto the skin above your jugular. He sets your skin aflame, makes you burn. Adrian kisses all the skin on your neck he can reach before he throws the covers over you. This is the finale piece.

And god, how you wish this was real. It feels like torture to be so close to the real thing and to not actually have it. Knowing that you’ll be pent up and jumpy for the rest of this mission and spend an entire night with your vibrator between your legs the moment debrief is over. That the expectation now, that’s what always happens.

What you don’t expect is for Adrian to push himself back from you to pull his shirt from his chest. Fucking hell, you think, your eyes following the reveal of skin, from his happy trail on his abs to the little dusting of chest hair on his sculpted pectorals, the finale being his broad shoulders that lead to arms strong enough to carry you like you’re weightless.

He spreads your legs and pushes himself between them, and you immediately curse yourself for not putting on underwear when you threw on your shorts. That meant your panties were somewhere in the bathroom and there were so many more chances to embarrass yourself now. He slots himself between your legs in a way that looks real. Anyone watching on the other side of that little red light wouldn’t know the difference. That was key to Plan H, something you and Adrian had actually fumbled through practicing in his apartment one night, setting up his phone in different vantage points and testing what motions looked real. 

Adrian pulls at the neckline of your sweatshirt, already stretched out from years of wear as you thread your fingers through his curls. God they feel so soft, so much more defined and luscious since you convinced him to ditch the five in one.

Adrian moans against your skin, and you go stiff. 

“Do it again,” he whispers, the breath of a laugh on his words and it’s only now that you realized you had tugged on his hair. 

You open your eyes to the sight of the mirror over the bed, taking in your appearance. Your hair is tangled and damp, you look like a drowned rat. Adrian however, is all rippling back muscles and reddened scar tissue from a nasty fight the two of you barely got out of making his pale skin look even more beautiful. Shit, this really looks real, the way he’s eagerly nipping at your collarbone and neck, the way he’s flexing his muscles and taking control of the situation. Adrian is many things, your best friend, a possible maniac, weapons expert, slightly emotionally stunted, but he could easily add erotic stand in on a movie set to that list.

You decide to help him out, hiking your parted knees up until they’re around his hips, and one of his hands grips the back of your knee and pushes the leg even farther. Without thinking, you let out the neediest whine you've ever heard, feeling your skin ignite. You have entirely too many clothes on. You watch your own eyes in the overhead mirror, pupils blown wide and a stray tear leaning from the outer corner, your lips fallen open in desperation. You’re fucked. 

You tear your eyes away from yourself, desperate to do anything but break your own heart over the fact that this is not at all real and you will have to sleep in this very bed with him tonight. Your gaze drifts to the smoke detector with its damned red light. 

It’s singular red light. 

Just one, not two. 

That means…

“Adrian! Adrian, stop,” your hands move to brace themselves on his chest, putting distance between you where his lips had made connection with the underside of your jaw.

He pulls apart like he’s been burned, all except for where your legs are still hitched around his waist. 

“What’s wrong, did I hurt you?”

His eyes are wide with panic, darting around your face to look for signs of pain, of anger, of disgust. You know exactly what he’s doing. He’s been searching for that disgusted look since high school and he’s never grown out of it. You know the look well, having watched him make it towards women at community college, as well as being on the receiving end of it once or twice.

“No,” you say, your hand rubbing at his shoulder to try to soothe him. As much as he tries to say he doesn’t have emotions, you can feel them in his tense muscles. 

“Ade, look at the smoke detector again.”

He does as you say, giving you a full view of his toned neck; gorgeous and just there for the biting and if this was real you would have wasted no time in sucking a dark hickey into the expanse of skin there, claiming him as your own for all to see. Not that he’s exactly someone who has people lining up to get with him, but still. If anyone wanted to they just couldn’t. 

“It’s the normal amount of lights,” he says, but he makes no move to get off of you. You don’t want him to though, and it’s not like you untangle your legs from his waist either. 

“They stopped watching,” he continues, eyes darting around, searching your face for a new game plan. 

“I guess we should…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact as much as possible and finally starting to slip you legs away from where you had so hastily wrapped them around him. You had made a mistake there, getting way too into it yourself. This isn't the kind of place where you can get selfish, you think, there are lives at stake.

Adrian’s eyes are dark with something unknown, his expression unreadable as he searches your face once more. 

“We don't have to,” his voice sounds so matter-of-fact.

“Adrian… what-” your eyebrows furrow as you wrack your brain trying to figure him out. You start to move your legs, unhooking your ankles and unlocking yourself from Adrian’s hips- when he stops you in your tracks; hand planted on your thighs to keep them in place.

“What if… What if I want to keep going?” he asks a bold question with an equally bold straightforward delivery. What if he wants to keep going? Is this a fucking joke? He isn't the type to joke like this.

“Do you?” you ask, ready to risk it all. The words are out of your mouth before you can weigh the consequences of them. 

Adrian scoffs.

“Duh,” he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. As if, of course, of course he would want to keep going, would want to keep ravaging you and throwing you into the deep end of this torture. 

“We… Our friendship,” you gasp, grasping at something almost dumbly.

“You mean our friendship that I already totally ruined?” he balks, as if you're late to the party, as if you should already know.

“Ruined?” you parrot, and his left hand shoots to your knee,keeping you from slipping away from him.

“Yeah, I mean like, by falling in love with you and shit. I thought you knew. Chris makes fun of me all the time,” he admits, and finally his grip on you loosens. He gives you every opportunity to move away and get out of this position. That look of bracing for disgust evident in his eyes again in full force and absolutely killing you. 

“Adrian,” you say, trailing off, the words confirming in failing on your tongue. Of course you'd heard Chris making fun of Adrian, but he makes fun of Adrian for everything so you figured it was better to ignore it.

Adrian pushes himself off of you to lean back on his knees, starting to pat the bed feeling around for his shirt. 

“Wait, Ade!” You almost scream, ready to beg as long as he stays exactly how he is. Between your legs.

He freezes, his expression unreadable to you for maybe the first time ever.

“What if I want to keep going too?” you ask, voice timid and far away, but your arms remain loose and planted around his neck. 

“Do you?” he asks, not at all hiding his enthusiasm. You fucking love that about him. He looks so excited. So happy, and knowing it's all for you...

You fucking kiss him instead of formally responding, arching your back and pushing yourself up to connect with him, forcing your lips to make contact so he knows, he knows, that you’re desperate for it. His tongue licks against your lips and you moan wantonly, not unlike your fake recon moan, but this time entirely real and something you fully intended on hiding until Adrian embarrassingly pulled it from you. 

You accept his tongue in your mouth eagerly, letting him take the lead and pulling more moans from you, absolutely kissing all of your resolve out of you.

“Fuck me, Ade,” you whisper, puling your lips away from his for a moment, ready to scream the same words if he asks.

“Me?” he asks, “You want me? Jesus, I’ve been waiting so long to hear that.”

“Not as long as me, I promise,” you laugh, and pull him back down onto you, fingers threading into his curls again.

You tug on his hair again as his teeth graze your bottom lip, earning an absolutely sinful groan from his lips. You've heard this man yell and scream and groan in pain but nothing like this; this is like heaven itself, better than any drug you could think of. Better than the indica strain in your vape that Adrian always yells at you for hitting in the Vigilante-mobile.

He bites down on your lip, not worrying about whether or not it hurts, reveling in the yelp you let loose against his mouth. Adrian’s hands travel up your thighs, over your hips and those little sweat shorts, squeezing right against your pelvic joints, and then finally they dip under your sweatshirt, his hot calloused hands against your smooth skin. 

“You know,” he starts, open mouth working its way back from your mouth to your jaw, “It kinda sucks they aren’t watching anymore. Woulda been hot.”

Your brain fries and short circuits at his words. You peek an eye open at him, eyes blissfully closed and still continuing his kissing as if that was the most normal thing for him to say. Honestly, you figured Adrian had to be into some kinky shit. You've heard him discuss his threesomes with Chris, and you've seen what the trunk of his sebring looks like. He can protest all he wants but you know the fuzzy pink handcuffs aren't for any kind of “bad guy” he could be up against. Plus, he just kills them. He doesn't exactly take prisoners.

“You wanted an audience for this?” Surprise more evident in your voice than you meant it to be. Part of you thinks you might have slipped and fell in the shower and this is some sort of hallucination or fucked up knock-out dream. 

His hips twitch and buck into yours, and you easily respond with a roll of your hips in return. 

“Want those fucks to see I finally got the girl,” he responds, rocking his hips back up into you again, but on purpose this time. His hands travel to your chest and your heart breaks for him a little. You know if this goes well you'll be his first real girlfriend. The first girl to spend more than one consecutive night, the first girl to do dishes and laundry with him, the first girl to not run because you know all the ugly shit he’s done and you already don't care. 

“Always had me, babe,” you pant. Your back arches off the mattress as you meet the movement of his hips, now working up a rhythm against each other.

“We both just needed to pretend to be married to get it right,” you joke, pushing him back only enough for you to wiggle out of your sweatshirt and throw it towards the edge of the bed. Now you know what Adebayo was talking about on the phone. You guys just work like that. Like a married couple, like a real couple. He laughs and starts kissing down your chest, immediately latching himself onto one breast while he grabs at your waist. You tug on his hair again as your other hand starts to travel his toned back. He’s absolutely beautiful, you think, running your fingertips over the freckles along his shoulder blades that you've memorized at this point.

“Need to-,” you gasp as he bites down on the underside of your breast, and you're sure youll be covered in marks by dawn, “Need to feel you.”

You aren't sure when you became a beggar, or maybe Adrian just made you one. 

“Oh you’ll feel me,” he promises, starting to kiss his way down your ribcage, down your stomach. He’s much more of a kisser than you imagined, much more attentive and much more loving. You almost feel bad for not thinking of him like this when you used to touch yourself to the thought of him. That feeling immediately dissolves when he then bites at your hip, his hands pulling at your shorts to give him more access to your skin. 

It’s awkward and fumbling to get you out of your shorts, not unlike two teens going at it on prom night, all nerves and fear and curiosity bound in eagerness. He tries to whip them off of your calves, resulting only in jerking your ankles up awkwardly, and the two of you burst into a comfortable laughter as you remove them yourself the rest of the way.

He freezes for a moment, finally seeing you completely bare. At first, it’s extremely flattering, his lips hanging open and his eyes wide as they search your form.

And then you find your arms slinking from their position on his shoulders to try to cover yourself, only to be stopped by Adrian himself. His rough hands wrap themselves around your wrists, pinning them down so they can’t go where you wanted. 

“Can’t hide from the Vigilante,” he jokes, bravado evident in his voice. 

You only roll your eyes and giggle in response.

“Please don’t tell me you’ll be Vigilante in bed too,” you counter. 

“Might chase you.”

You know he’s serious, just like you know he’s serious about wishing the camera was still watching. 

Heat floods your body, and suddenly all of this is so real, Adrian, his hips pressed against your bare body between your legs, his dusting of curly brown hair on his chest, the warm eyes behind glasses staring straight back into yours.

“Adrian…” you trail off, not sure what you're trying to say or ask. It's all just, the Adrian of it all.

“No, I’m serious, babe. I might chase you,” and everything in his tone tells you he’s serious.

“Please… Adrian,” you don't even finish the sentence, because he knows exactly what you're asking for. His hands abandon your wrists to find themselves on your hips again and his lips find your own. He kisses you deeply, like a promise, hard and slow as his fingers move eagerly. Featherlight touches you didn’t expect him capable of trail from your hips to the apex of your legs. You’re so thankful you shaved in the shower; you know Adrian wouldn’t actually give a fuck about body hair, but there’s just something about a first impression you can’t help but feel. 

You gasp against his mouth the moment his finger dips and bumps against your clit, clumsy, but perfect. He doesn't stop kissing you as he explores further, tracing circles against your clit delicately, and then more forcefully.

You can tell by the way he kisses you that he’s studying, testing the waters to see what gives you the most pleasure, what you react most to. He switches from his circular motion to a rocking back and forth of his fingertip over your clit, and you think it's lights out for a second; Fuck, it feels so good. 

“Oh, that's it,” he whispers, lips still smashed against yours. You can only whine in response, high pitched and needy. You try to arch your back, try to move in any way you can to get Adrian better access to you. He only pushes you further, his grip of one hand so tight on your hip it could bruise, the other working hard to make you feel good. But he doesn't even need to work that hard, with the way you are moaning and crying against him. Your skin burns under his touch, and freezes with the absence of it. You come alive like a wire tripped and electrified under him. You love it, and you knew you would,  but it feels so different from the idea of him and the real thing. There's so much romance here, even if Adrian’s lack of romance could possibly deny that.

“Fuckin’ love it,” you moan against him, and he tries to roll his hips, incapacitated by his own hand. Quickly he pulls himself away letting his sweatpants clothed cock shove against you.

You can feel it, sort of. You can feel that his cock is big and that he knows how to move his hips but you want to know everything about it, want to memorize every ride and twist and dip of his body.

You pull your lips from his, ripping yourself to the side just long enough to speak.

“Gimme all of it,” you beg, and he absolutely does not hesitate. Adrian removes his hand from where he's working you over to the waistband of his pants so he can free himself for you. 

He wiggles his sweatpants down awkwardly, fumbling and tangled up, but frees himself without any comment from you. You can’t say that you were exactly graceful either, the eagerness taking over your motor skills momentarily.

Adrian pauses for a second, letting the moment sink in. You’re bare before each other for the first time on purpose. It’s not like when he would come in through your window unannounced after work and you’d scream and throw shoes at him. It’s full of lust and love and sheer nerves. For both of you, it isn't your first time, but as he pushes into you without weird decorum of virginity, it feels almost alien, but at the same time, this is how it's supposed to happen. He bottoms out with a little smile, searching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. If he finds any, it fades away quickly with a kiss. His eyes are the prettiest shade of brown, you think, feeling your own little smile grace your lips. 

“Guess the newlywed cabin is living up to its name finally,” you joke, stopping again to press a kiss against his lips, “only took, what, multiple missions?”

Seven. It took seven missions.

Adrian snaps at this point. His hips move, completely without warning to thrust back out and into you again, so roughly and perfectly Adrian that it feels too good. It's everything you imagined and more.

“Wish this was happening every time,” He thrusts more, “Imagined us actually married.” 

He moans, relinquishing his self control to how good it feels. All of your nerves were already on fire, but his words kick you into overdrive, the same way that when you hold your finger over a candle too long it feels almost cold. Your nails rake down his back as his pace picks up, your legs around his back giving you leverage to thrust back on every snap of his hips. 

“Wanna be yours,” you moan, your head thrown back against the pillow to give yourself better leverage to arch your back.

“Wish that fuckin’ camera was still on,” He groans, “Want everyone to know you’re mine.”

He dips his head down, first connecting with the underside of your jaw, then to the side of your neck where he bites down, hard and unapologetic; You know it's gonna bruise up to a dark purple by morning.

“Fuck,” you moan, “Keep that up and they’re gonna.”

Adrian only laughs against your skin, and bites down again. He doesn’t falter or change his pace, his hips always snapping recklessly against you. You feel more full than you ever have, something about Adrian invading all of your senses and overwhelming all of them has you a mess already. You’re sure he’s gonna last longer than you, already your body feeling like it’s floating in space and already your mind drowning in everything Adrian.

“Adri-” you whine, but off by your own voice, as your body jolts under his touch. More accurately, his slap. Its light and playful and just enough to drive you that much further towards the edge.

“Oh… You liked that?” 

You nod.

He laughs, scrunching his nose to try and push his glasses back up his nose.

“I knew you would. Had to be kinky if you were into me,” he sighs, before slapping your cheek again a little harder, and you find your moan melting into a laugh. He’s so effortlessly hot while still being adorable Adrian. He knows you so well.

“Fuck me harder, babe,” you beg, finding it harder and harder to form words as tension rises in your body, your body overheated and every nerve like fireworks. Adrian seems to be spurred on even more by the pet name, immediately pushing into you even harder the second you call him babe. 

You can feel your orgasm building quickly, now completely sure you're gonna finish before him. He pistons into you, hips pressing flush against you, his balls against your ass. He’s no longer pulling all the way out, instead staying deep inside you and grinding his hips harder into you. It's absolutely driving you wild, moans and whines spilling from your lips. You're close, so incredibly close, and there's no way he can’t feel it from his position. He presses his whole being against you, his sweaty chest against you, his forehead pressed against yours. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is even more perfect than you ever could have imagined. And now you see it, the way Adrian could so easily pretend you were actually married. How easily all of this came to you both, how well you knew each other's bodies without ever doing this before. That deeper feeling without a name.

Your fingers move from his back, surely scratched and maybe even a little ripped up from your nails, and to his scalp, to those bouncy curls that you always look for in a crowded room.

“Fuck!” Adrian practically shouts as you pull at them, rutting harder into you even still. That pushes you over the edge, and you barely register the shaking of your legs or the low moan in your throat as your fist tightens in his hair. 

“Goddamn,” he chuckles, hands leaving their place on the mattress to cup your cheeks as he lets you come down from your high and finishes off himself. You whine almost pitifully as you can feel the searing heat of him spilling inside you, and he just soothes you with the sweetest kisses you've ever tasted. He stays there a little while, a lot more gentle and intuitive than you expected of him. He wipes away tears you hadn't realized had fallen and he lets you catch your breath. 

“My pretty wife,” he sighs, moving slowly as he finally pulls out of you, the sting of his departure and the cool air of the cabin knocking you like a wave. 

“Not your wife,” you correct him, but your voice is full of love and exhaustion. 

Not your wife, yet, at least. You can't afford to get ahead of yourself, especially not when you work on this team, but you let the thought pass through your mind without punishing yourself at least. 

Adrian just laughs, full and boisterous as he pulls you into his chest and holds you there in an iron grip. You think for a moment, that maybe he does that so you won't leave. You weren't planning on it anyway. 

“I still wish the camera was on,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your hairline. 

“I know, babe,” you mumble, eyes getting heavier. 

And then. 

“Wait, Adrian, can we circle back to the thing where I don't think you own a smoke detector?”

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #adrian chase smut #adrian chase fic #vigilante imagine

[modern-vellichor]

hi! i’d love it if you could write adrian chase/vigilante x reader(fem or gn if you prefer!) where they are quite hard faced and irritable with the other members of 11th Street Kids, but with Adrian they are quite soft and show they actually care for him, laugh at his awkwardness etc. basically a different person than the way they are with the others. ty!

im so good to y'all. i have genuinely no idea when this was sent to me but I'm back baby.

masterlist // send a request

"Fuck off," you said to Peacemaker.

Waller had promised that this was your last job. And you made sure she meant it. This was nothing more than community service. You did as little as possible with these shitheads. You sat in a van with Economos during missions, you never said a word unless absolutely necessary. You avoided Murn like the plague. You never accepted Harcourt's invitations to drinks. You always rejected Peacemaker's various advances (it's not like you would say yes in any other situation.) Even Adebayo, who was the most tolerable on the squad, always found a way to get on your nerves, usually with unwanted (but not unhelpful) advice. In spite of this, there was one person who just made your heart melt.

Sweet little Vigilante. So stupid, so blind and deaf and dumb. So sweet. Sure, he was a bit dopey. He had no brain-to-mouth filter whatsoever. He was extremely violent. He was a bit creepy. But you had a soft spot for him. There was something about his puppy dog eyes, or his dumbstruck smile that turned you into a gushy, weeping, puddle. He was just plain neat.

The others noticed, of course they did. You turned into this sweet, gushing mess around the idiot. You placed gentle hands on his cheeks, you listened to his god awful rants with a soft smile, you helped him with whatever he wanted.

Adrian didn't notice, obvious. He was oblivious to your gentleness towards him. In his heart, he knew he loved you but you were so scary. You were so mean to all the other agents, even Peacemaker! Despite this he tailed after you like a lost puppy, or an imprinted duckling. And you let him. If he ever gained the nerve to reach out to caress your arm, or your hand, or if he ever reached for your knives or your guns, you didn't push him away like you would have anyone else.

Maybe one day he'd realize how soft you truly were, maybe he'd ask you out. But for now, he'd secretly admire you, even blood-soaked, battered and beaten, and pretend you were nothing more than a favoured coworker.

#vigilante x y/n #vigilante x reader #vigilante fic #vigilante fanfiction #vigilante fluff #adrian chase fanfiction #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase fic #adrian chase fluff #vigilante imagine

[jediviolet]

i feel like with the wait for Peacemaker season 2 people are forgetting all about the lovable “sociopath” Vigilante/Adrian Chase. I feel like I’ve read every Vig fic there is to read and there’s a huge slow down in new ones! I would love any recs on here or any other sites of ppl’s fav vigilante fics or ones they’ve written themselves! Also any creators taking submissions for new vig fics reply too!! tysm <3

#adrian chase #vigilante #peacemaker #vigilante peacemaker #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase fanfiction #vigilante imagine #vigilante x reader #vigilante fanfiction #peacemaker fanart #peacemaker fanfiction #dc universe #dc fanfic

[7-wonders]

‘laying wide awake at night after watching a horror movie that left them unnerved’

could you do that prompt with the reader being the one who can’t sleep and Adrian comforting them and promising he’ll keep them safe?

I had two people request this prompt, thank you! Man I've MISSED writing for Adrian, this was so fun.

You've made a lot of dumb decisions in your life, though that's not specific to you. No, being human is about making dumb decisions. What is life if not a string of dumb decisions, one after the other?

Still, letting Harcourt and Economos pick The Exorcist: Believer for a team movie night instead of fighting harder for your and Peacemaker's choice, Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour, probably ranks up towards the top of your list of dumb decisions.

It probably wouldn't have even been that scary of a movie if you weren't watching it in the movie theater! Yes, The Exorcist scares you (you don't know a person who isn't scared by that movie), but it doesn't terrify you—there is a distinct difference between the two. Watching it in a darkened room, in surround sound, with 100+ other people just as scared as you are? That's terror at its finest.

After the movie was over, every member of The 11th Street Kids excitedly talked about how good it was, how scared they remained. Yet none of them looked affected or like they actually were still scared, so you pushed down your own fear and laughed it off as well. You went out for a couple of after-movie drinks, kissed Adrian goodbye as he went on patrol with Chris, and went home.

Now you're here, lying paralyzed under the covers and staring through the dark room intently as you try to discern if you're actually seeing something lurking in the inky blackness. Are those the yellow eyes of one of the possessed little girls, glowing dimly in the dark? If you strain your ears enough, can you hear the Latin of the exorcism? Your body begins to shake in fear, and you slowly draw the covers up over your head.

So wrapped up in your own mind are you that you miss the quiet sound of the door slowly opening. After having worked at A.R.G.U.S for a few years, it should be second nature to catch on to the feeling of the air shifting outside of your safe haven. But fear is a very powerful thing.

When something grabs the blanket and tugs it down, you scream.

The lights flick on as you do so, blinding you momentarily. When you blink the brightness out of your eyes, you come face-to-face with Adrian, your boyfriend. He's still in his Vigilante costume, which means he's just come back from patrolling. His mask is pulled off, and he's staring at you in bewilderment.

"Hey, I didn't mean to wake you up!" Adrian apologizes profusely.

"You didn't," you assure him, even as you try to get your heart to stop beating in your throat. "I wasn't able to fall asleep."

"Really? That's weird, you're always asleep by the time I come home." He hits the screen of your phone, lying on the nightstand, to check the time. "Do you know that it's three thirty right now? You're supposed to have a full eight hours of sleep to function healthily, and you're not gonna be able to get that."

Your lips twitch up in a smile. "I know."

"Then why aren't you asleep?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"I promise!" His face is so earnest, and you wonder why anybody would think that your open book of a boyfriend didn't have emotions.

"It's because of that stupid fucking movie."

"Which stupid fucking movie?" he asks cluelessly.

"The one that we saw only a few hours ago?"

Clarity dawns on him. "Oh, that stupid fucking movie! I didn't know it scared you that bad, pumpkin!"

You appreciate the seasonal term of endearment, probably one of the more tame ones that he's come up with. "You mean it didn't scare you?"

"It was a little scary, I guess. Maybe I'm just built different."

"You almost cried when we went on 'It's a Small World,'" you remind him, referencing your trip to Disney World.

"Hey, those dolls are fucking scary and definitely have the souls of children trapped in them!" Adrian defends. He must see something in your face that betrays just how scared you've been since you arrived home, because his own softens. "Man, that movie really scared you, huh?"

You nod, and he nods back.

"Alright, then." He sits on the bed abruptly, pulling you into his arms and laying down on the mattress with you.

"What—Adrian, you're all sweaty! You need to go shower!"

"Not until you fall asleep. I'm gonna stay right here and keep you safe."

"You know that I know the movie's not real, right?"

"I know. But your fear is. So I'm gonna make sure that you fall asleep, and then I'll fight off any nightmares if they try to come knocking."

He's so sweet sometimes that it makes your teeth ache. "What about your eight hours of sleep?"

"Screw that, I can catch some zzz's at the office tomorrow."

You laugh. "When you're supposed to be doing the mission paperwork that you've been putting off for over a week now?"

"Pssh, paperwork, shmaperwork."

Your conversation dies down, and Adrian reaches a long arm over to turn the lights off. Despite your best efforts, your eyes close from the heaviness of sleep calling to you, Adrian's humming and his hand rubbing your back helping to get you there. The memory of fear zings through your brain, however, and you jolt with a sharp gasp, feeling like you do when you're about to sleep and have the sensation of falling.

Adrian's immediately holding you tighter, making sure that you feel him with you. "Don't worry, I'm right here."

You nod and settle back into him. "Love you."

"I love you more...my moonlit lake." You chuckle, and that's the last thing you remember before finally falling asleep.

True to his word, Adrian makes sure that no nightmares bother you tonight.

7-wonders Halloween Spooktacular

#7-wonders halloween spooktacular #adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #vigilante #vigilante x reader #peacemaker #peacemaker imagine #adrian chase imagine #vigilante imagine

[tiannasfanfic]

Closer: Part 2

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader (Smut)

Summary: While wrapping up a successful mission, you end up getting exposed to a mysterious, powdery substance that starts to make you feel...very strange. (Crossposted to AO3)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only

Author Notes: Happy Smut Saturday! 💜🖤

CW: Afab Reader. It's a sex pollen fic, so possible dubious consent even though I address that in this chapter too. This is a full smut chapter, so it features kissing, groping, vaginal fingering, sex (p in v) and lot's of horny fun. Birth control is sorta mentioned in this one since it's not an established relationship.

Word Count: 3,497

Adrian stared at the silent phone for a few seconds before sitting it on the table. He hesitated, then he took off his glasses, folded them, and sat them on the table as well before turning towards you. It seemed like he was nervous now, but so were you. Despite the fact you wanted this man in you more than anything else, you suddenly had butterflies in your stomach.

“So…um,” he said and got up onto his knees on the floor next to the couch. “How do you normally…like things to start?”

Suddenly, your mind went blank. Sex? What’s that? It was like you forgot everything about it. You opened your mouth and all that came out was a little squeak. Finally, you managed a very tiny shrug.

Adrian chuckled a little, nervously running his fingers back through his hair several times.

“Okay. Uh…o-okay.”

He looked at you for a moment then slowly leaned down, one of his hands coming to softly cup the side of your face as his lips lowered to yours.

Whatever freak out the sex pollen caused with your body briefly settled down at the feeling of another person’s lips on yours. It was a small reprieve, but it allowed you to focus on, and enjoy, this moment. You eagerly returned his kiss, your hands moving up his body, one stopping to rest on the hard muscle of his upper chest, the other circling around to softly grip the back of his neck. Adrian shivered under your hands a little as his tongue probed at your lips. As your mouth opened slightly to let him in, you felt his free hand slide under the hem of your shirt to rest at the side of your stomach. Once again, the feeling of his bare skin on yours made you moan, but this time you weren’t bashful about it. Your head tilted back at the sensation, your lips parting from his as the sound rose out of your throat.

“Fuck,” Adrian mumbled softly before leaning in further, his lips on yours again.

The kiss got deeper, and Adrian’s hand slid further up your shirt. It was a slow, deliberate movement, like he expected you to understand what was happening at any second and tell him to stop. But stopping was the furthest thing from your mind. His fingers felt like they were leaving a trail of sparks along your skin. Soon, his hand was on your breast, squeezing firmly. You moaned softly into his mouth, your grip on the back of his neck tightening. Then Adrian’s thumb rubbed over your nipple.

The reprieve was over. The heat between your legs cranked back up and you gasped, your back arching up towards his hand. You gripped a handful of his Fennel Fields uniform and started trying to drag him off the floor and on top of you.

It was a few awkward seconds of shuffling limbs as you didn’t want to let him go or break the kiss. Adrian didn’t seem to want to either, his tongue quite firmly in your mouth as he moved his hand away from your face to grab the arm of the couch just above your head. Holding onto it, he hauled himself up onto you, his lips never leaving yours. Soon, Adrian had arranged himself on his knees between your legs. You brought your legs up high over his waist and didn’t realize you had started grinding yourself against him until he groaned into your mouth.

Without warning, Adrian snapped his hips forward in a hard thrust against you. You were very surprised to feel how hard he was already. Through the loose clothing you both wore; you could easily feel his length rubbing along your entrance. You moaned, arching your hips up. Even with as good as this felt, it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

“Please,” you gasped as you broke the kiss.

Adrian started to pull back from you, but your legs tightened around him, you held onto the back of his neck and front of his shirt, keeping him there.

“What do you need me to do?” he said softly, looking into your eyes.

“Anything,” you panted, arching your hips against him. “Just…I need you…”

His lips crashed into yours, kissing you hard as the hand that was on your breast slid down to start pulling at your shorts. After struggling unsuccessfully with them for a few seconds, Adrian pulled back from you so he could grab the waistband with both hands. You lifted your hips for him, then shifted your legs as he pulled them off. After tossing them aside, his hands slid up your legs along the sides of your thighs, with one hand trailing up to rest on your hip, the other sliding between your legs. Soon, you felt his fingers along your slit, and you gasped as he began teasing one into you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Adrian softly said, circling his finger just inside your entrance. “You’re so fucking wet…”

Suddenly, he sank his finger all the way into you. You cried out, hips lifting up off the couch. It wasn’t long before he added a second. The pollen had your body completely receptive to anything. Your hips rocked up to meet his hand as he started to fuck you with his fingers at a steady pace.

“Fuck, you’ve been like this for two days?” he asked, an incredulous tone in his voice.

You nodded wildly in confirmation, your eyes squeezing shut. Your hands were gripping onto the couch above your head. His hand that was resting on your hip was now holding them down to keep you still. As he drove his fingers deep into you, he curved them up, and hit a spot that sent you reeling. You came quick, and hard, around his fingers.

“Shit,” you heard Adrian whisper, sounding awestruck.

His fingers kept working into you, not stopping, or slowing, keeping you at the crest of your high for as long as possible before it faded. But as it did fade, the ache returned. As amazing as that was, it still wasn’t enough.

“A-Adrian,” you gasped, his grip on you tightening as you squirmed. “P-please…I-I need…f-fuck me…”

Quite suddenly, his hands completely left you, leaving you empty, untouched, and the ache rose to unbearable levels. You whimpered in pain, clenching your teeth as you clutched onto the couch. Adrian made soft shushing sounds as you heard the distinctive jangle of his belt being opened.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he quickly said, shifting from one knee to the other to get his pants and boxers down. “I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay.”

Right as he said that last “okay” he was laying on you again. Then his mouth on yours, kissing you, and you felt the head of his cock probing at your entrance. In one smooth motion, Adrian slid his full length into you. You cried out against his lips, hips arching up against him, and he groaned deeply.

The relief you felt was instantaneous. That ache faded away to nothing, pain turned to pleasure, and all that remained was how fantastic his cock felt inside you.

Adrian slid a hand under you to grip your ass, as he started thrusting into you slowly, gradually building to an even, steady pace. Pulling your leg up higher, he slid his cock deeper with each thrust into you. Your fingers slid up from his neck to the back of his head, griping into his hair like you were trying to pull him closer. He slid his arm behind your shoulders, squeezing your body against his. You didn’t know if it was the pollen or if was always this intense with Adrian during sex, but you didn’t really care. It wasn’t long before you were cumming again.

You threw your head back, crying out as you tightened around his cock. Adrian grunted, but didn’t stop, his lips moving down your neck. When you were cresting your high, you felt his teeth graze over the side of your neck, felt them start pressing into your skin. You felt him suck in his breath through his mouth, start to bear down with his teeth a little harder…and then hesitated. Hesitated everything, in fact, including the thrusting. He just completely froze. You whimpered, thrusting your hips up towards him and that broke whatever trance Adrian was in. He resumed fucking you, his lips brushing down your neck to your collar bone.

“You feel so good,” you whispered between gasps.

“Yeah?” Adrian grunted, his lips brushing upward now over the front of your throat.

“Yeah.”

Then he was kissing you again, his cock plunging into you deeply, and he was picking up speed.

Suddenly, Adrian squeezed your ass hard, and he ripped his mouth away from yours.

“I-I’m close,” he panted, and you briefly opened your eyes to gaze up at him. “W-Where do I cum?”

Looking into Adrian’s eyes, you almost found yourself too overwhelmed to speak. When you opened your mouth, either a moan or squeak came out, but no words. He slowed down his pace a little. It was enough to let you answer. Somewhat.

“Me,” you gasped, as you clutched at his back, his shirt balling up under your hand.

You hoped Adrian understood that you meant you were on birth control.

He did.

It only took a few thrusts before he was shooting his load deep inside you. Adrian moaned, gripping onto your hip hard enough to make you gasp. You knew you would be bruised, but you didn’t care. The only thing you cared about was how those last few thrusts were making you cum again. It wasn’t a big one, more of an aftershock of that last orgasm, but it was enough to make you throw your head back again as you cried out, and Adrian buried his face in your neck. You both gradually became still.

After a moment, the hand Adrian had on your ass moved up so he could wrap his arm around your waist. You held each other close, both of you breathing heavily. You could feel his heart hammering in his chest, just like yours was. Eventually, he raised his head slightly, kissing your cheek then your lips. Your lips were eager for his, and he moaned softly as you slid your tongue into his mouth.

His hips twitched between your thighs, and you felt his cock start to stiffen right before he finally slid out of you. You whimpered, softly running the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip, making him grunt and start grinding the length of his cock along your slit.

Fuck, was he always like this? Always ready again in just a few minutes? Or could the sex pollen be affecting him now? He’d kissed you, swapped bodily fluids with you. Was he infected now too?

The thought had barely flickered through your mind before you decided it didn’t matter. You would be going at it until you were better, so if he did get infected, he’d get fixed in the process, too. While you’d love to have him give you a demonstration of his skills once you were recovered that way you could compare experiences, you doubted that would happen. Better enjoy it now while you could since your body was clearly not done with him yet.

The ache began to grow inside you again, your body feeling warm from the inside out. A whimper escaped from your throat as you felt everything start to build just like before. You arched your pussy up against his cock with a thrust of your hips, like you were trying to get him back inside you. While it wasn’t as intense as before, it wasn’t by much.

Adrian grunted, moving his hips to grind against you. You moaned, moving your hips in time with his. He moved his arm from under your neck slightly so he could raise up on one elbow and look at you.

“Not any better?” he asked, still sounding breathless.

“O-only a little,” you whimpered. “It’s coming back.”

“I guess I’ll just need to keep fucking you then, fuck that pollen right out of you,” he said before kissing you, thrusting himself hard against you.

You nodded frantically as you kissed him, moaning into his mouth. This was not an experience you wanted to stop anytime soon. But then you pulled back slightly.

“C-Can we move this to the bedroom?” you whispered against his lips, looking up into his eyes.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he grunted before starting to kiss you again.

He seemed to forget that he actually had to stop kissing you in order to move to the bedroom. Then he seemed to forget that his pants and boxers were already around his ankles when he did try to get up. They nearly tripped him, which would have caused him to fall backwards over the end table. You quickly sat up and grabbed two handfuls of his shirt to pull him back down on the couch so he wouldn’t fall.

Now that he was back next to you though, he forgot all about the bedroom. Adrian started trying to pull you over onto his lap, his mouth already back on yours. You started working at the buttons on his shirt and you broke your lips away from his for a second.

“Clothes off,” you panted.

You got no argument from him, and he kept trying to kiss you as he attempted get undressed. But then he got frustrated when it wasn’t working and pushed you away as you were undoing the last button on his shirt, causing the thread to snap loose.

“Strip,” he ordered as he started pulling off his shoes.

You gave him no argument either. You’d heard him use that tone many times while under the Vigilante mask. It made a fresh jolt of heat shoot through you to have it directed at you like that. You started pulling your shirt off, but with how flustered as you were, and how much you were still shaking, that was more difficult than it should have been. You ended up getting twisted up in it and got it stuck half over your head. Luckily, it didn’t take Adrian long to get undressed. You felt him stand up and, a second later, he pulled your shirt off the rest of the way.

With that out of the way, you barely got to take in the glorious sight of the naked man in front of you before he was pulling you to your feet. Your legs had other ideas though. Still weak from the effects of the pollen and shaking from the pounding you had just taken, your knees buckled. Adrian caught you, then swept you up into his arms to carry you to the bedroom.

Unbeknownst to you, Adrian was feeling extremely conflicted about all of this.

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t having fun. Far from it. This was the greatest night of his life as far as he was concerned. But it was bittersweet.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

Adrian had given up on the idea of you being with him. He had attempted to flirt in the early days after your transfer to the team and didn’t get anywhere. He thought he had been pretty suave, but you didn’t even seem to notice. Then, a few weeks later, it seemed like you were flirting with him, but he worried that hope might be making him read too much into things. So, he took the wait and see approach. When you didn’t attempt to take it any further, he assumed he misread the situation.

Ever since then, Adrian tried to keep some distance with you. He had done his best to fight down the lump he got in his throat whenever he saw you. He did his best not to stare when you weren’t looking. And he had tried to keep away from you on missions, so he wasn’t always right there next to you. He felt like he had done an excellent job with this.

But then, a few weeks back, Leota started asking him weird questions, like what he thought about you. Chris overheard and joined in. He assured them you were his friend, absolutely nothing more. Then they distracted him, took him to Chris’ trailer and got him drunk. When they started asking more questions about you then, the truth finally came out.

Adrian was absolutely smitten with you.

Ever since then, they both had encouraged him to try his luck, to ask you out. Leota told him he might be surprised by your response. He came close a couple of times, but convinced himself your answer would be no. Then things would be awkward, and he didn’t want to lose your friendship. That would hurt far worse than the romantic rejection. So, he shoved his feelings away.

Then one weekend, Chris tried to hurry things along. After arguing with Adrian for over an hour about why he hadn’t asked you out yet, Chris finally got fed up. He called you and invited you over to have a threesome with him and Adrian. Adrian had been absolutely horrified. His logic was, if you said yes, Adrian would either be forced to admit his feelings or fucking you would get you out of his system. While he definitely wouldn’t have backed out had you said yes, he was thankful when you said no. That wasn’t how he wanted it to go either.

How did he want things to go?

Well, that he really didn’t know. Just not sharing you with his best friend or you drugged into having sex with him. The latter was what he felt like was happening right now.

Adrian was carrying you down the hall when those dark thoughts started to creep in. Then, as if trying to chase them away, your hand came up to his cheek, gently turned his face to you and you kissed him deeply. Adrian nearly stumbled you both right into the wall.

It didn’t really matter why you wanted him right now, did it? And regardless of anything else, this was the only way to help you and he certainly wouldn’t trust anyone else with your care right now.

No, it didn’t matter, Adrian decided as he reached your bedroom.

You were at least his for tonight and that would have to be enough.

He laid you on your bed and quickly followed after. As he got into position between your thighs, he swept up one of your legs to rest it over his shoulder. Adrian guided the head of his cock back to your entrance, already fully hard again, then slid into you. Your eyes closed and your back arched, while your hands clutched at the pillows behind your head. He bit his lip hard, forcing his own eyes to stay open, watching everything you did as he slowly started working himself in and out of you.

If this was the only time he got with you, he was going memorize everything. The way you looked. The way you sounded. The way you felt.

It wasn’t long before Adrian’s slow, deep thrusts had you clenching around his cock. He wrapped his arm around your thigh, holding your leg tightly against his chest as he kept the pace steady. He didn’t know if it was the sex pollen making it so easy to get you off, but he doubted he’d get the chance when you weren’t on it anymore to compare.

He bit his lip harder, drawing a little blood as he tried to stay quiet so he could listen to you. He had noticed the first time he made you cum the way your moans became higher pitched the closer you got. You telegraphed exactly what was happening, when it was happening. It was hot as hell.

“Fuck!” you suddenly screamed, back arching on the bed as your pussy clamped down around him.

Adrian couldn’t help but groan then, his fingers gripping into you, not changing his pace, but resisting the desire to go faster. He didn’t want to cum so quick this time. He wanted to go a bit slower if you’d let him, take his time, and really try to make this an enjoyable experience for you.

But then you threw your head back, screaming out his name, and your hands came down from the pillows to grab onto him anywhere you could. You ended up grabbing the back of his thigh with one hand and the other hand gripped onto his bicep. You weren’t trying to push him away, he noticed that immediately. Between that and your heel digging into his ass, it was like you were trying to keep him there.

Oh, fuck it, Adrian thought as he started slamming his cock into you as hard as he could, making you gasp and squeak. I’ll get hard again.

#adrian chase #vigilante #dceu fanfiction #adrian chase fanfiction #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase smut #adrian chase x y/n #adrian chase x you #adrian chase x reader #vigilante fanfiction #vigilante imagine #vigilante smut #sex pollen #vigilante x y/n #vigilante x you #vigilante x reader

[starforgedthor]

when you become untouchable {Vigilante / Adrian Chase} // nine

nine. no crime in being kind.

Summary: during your first mission for project butterfly, you're the only one that knows you've been tailed by a certain local menace to society. arguably your favourite menace to society. so you go to hang out when things get dull.

Need to Know: She/Her pronouns. villain!meta-human!reader. self depricating reader. chaos. implied dehumanisation. canon typical violence. heavily implied smut. slowish burn.

A/N: i know its been eight months. i have no excuse. i still think about this fic. i love vij and the reader here but they might be inconsistent idk lol. you understand, it's been a while. ANYWAYS, please let me know what you think!!

[ masterpost ]

Taglist: @16boyfriends-and-me @a-girl-who-loves-disney @amysuemc @generalfoolish @idkanymoreaboutlife @home-of-disaster @2guysonascooter @demure-doll @grippleback-galaxy @demeterdavis @specificpuppy @gay-cold-brew @siberianallen @evvilspawn @bright-cherry-bombzz @simping-4-jason-todd @girlinchair @blackwatxr @plzu

Taglist is always open, feel free to message or comment to be added! xx

Problems began the moment Peacemaker was handed his gun, and he realised it didn't have a Dove of Peace on it, the same way all of his personal weapons must have had.

"Get me a Dremel -" you offered in the face of Chris's rising frustration, the only one willing to tolerate his antics in this moment.

"Do I look like I have a fucking Dremel?!" He hissed back furiously, clearly not thrilled with your suggestion. Harcourt flatly offered to get a marker for him to draw one on, but Chris still didn't exactly seemed pleased with the solution; "the most important part of killing someone, at least to me, is the goddamn Dove of Peace! Can you even draw a Dove of Peace?" He demanded to know from you.

It takes you a moment to suggest pulling one right from his memories, that you could draw with one hand and hold his hand with the other to get it perfect. While he hesitates for a moment, by now he seems willing enough to trust you, which is honestly more than you got from anyone else these days.

So that's how you find yourselves while the others, the ones who 'weren't potential liabilities' got the rest of the site and it's equipment set up.

Chris lay in the grass, one hand behind his head, the other resting in the space between the two of you, while you pulled your gloves off, his sniper rifle in your lap, something jabbing your back pocket that you ignore for the time being, and the marker beside you.

Taking his hand, his life and memories rush over you. While you'd done this before with Chris, to stitch up his wounds the other day, the memories always feel fresh. There's a moment of genuine shock as the newer memories include you, wanton and breathless and stark naked between him and Vigilante, but at least his thoughts were complimentary, if incredibly vulgar. It was more that you'd never get used to seeing yourself in that situation from an outside perspective. Still, you tried to ignore those and focus on the other Doves of Peace from his weapons.

Technically you could just take the memories of the Doves no longer need to be in contact with him, but there's something about this moment, this cool afternoon and him relaxing in the sun, holding his hand and drawing a pretty decent Dove on his rifle, that would probably be very nice if you weren't all here to commit murder. Something about the way Chris was perfectly content in this moment for you to hold his hand, happy for you to have free reign on his memories and experiences, no shame and with complete trust. Even Harcourt took years to develop that kind of trust. Despite his reputation and attitude at times, you were genuinely glad to be able to call Chris your friend.

Harcourt finally joins you both when you're handing over the rifle, and Peacemaker's giving begrudging compliments about the last-minute Dove addition. It pitters off into general small-talk before Chris asks you if you've been around this area before.

"I'm usually not allowed in Washington," you mused, knowing you still had a long time to wait before the targets to arrive, "especially not this part, considering the amount of important people that live within, like, a ten mile radius of here," you gestured towards the targets' house, "Senators and stuff, you know? But isn't it beautiful -"

"I need you to be like forty percent less Disney on this stakeout," Harcourt rolled her eyes at how you'd chosen to phrase the factoid about yourself, "why are you even out here, shouldn't you be in the van with the others?"

"I hope not, there's barely room as it is," Economos's mutter comes through the line and you beam at Harcourt.

"And you're my favourite," you coo at her, voice syrupy.

"Tell us what you really think," from Harcourt's other side you hear Peacemaker's snicker.

"Seriously, Chaser, where are you meant to be- Murn," Harcourt goes back to her headset, "where is she meant to be?"

"We're literally just killing time, they're not due for hours -" You pitched yourself back against the grass with a groan.

"What do you mean you're usually not allowed in Washington?" Peacemaker speaks up, however back to the thought you'd had just a few moments ago.

"Technically," you started, looking up at the sky through the dappled leaves, "I'm not allowed anywhere that isn't Belle Reve, you know?" You huffed a strange little laugh at that, "but the rules on where I am and am not allowed to be kind of change depending on where I'm needed." Silence filled the air for several long moments, "there's lots of people in Washington; I've found a lot of people in Washington, and I don't know where they are now-"

"Okay," Harcourt says sharply, and your gaze snaps to her. From her pocket she pulls a zip-tie, and she doesn't even have to say, "go be Disney somewhere else for a bit, Cujo," for you to take it and loop it around your wrist.

It takes all of five minutes of wandering around the surrounding shrubbery for you to feel the pressure of the item you'd stuffed in your back pocket before leaving the hotel that morning.

The fucking multitool.

It was still light out, nobody was talking to you directly over the comms, it was just a little, silly thing for you to entertain yourself with, no-one would care -

Except with your glove half-off and the multitool against your hand, you could feel that it's owner, Adrian Chase - that fucking busboy, Christ if Vij ever ends up actually telling you his name you're going to have to live with the embarrassment of never having connected those dots - was much closer than you'd anticipated.

Still, considering you knew how you felt about Vij and Adrian when you believed they were different people, there was something strange about knowing they're not, especially when Vigilante clearly went to great lengths to hide his identity. You reasoned that if you could earn his trust, he'd tell you himself, and so you didn't want to know it until then, at least if you could help it.

So you take a moment to store the information of his location in your mind, which is the first step that lead you to getting the name The Chaser in the first place, and pulled your glove back on properly. Contact broken between your palm and the tool you now clutched in gloved hands, all you knew is where he was, and that it was definitely within walking distance.

"I'll be back! I'm exploring!" You hollered, and we're met with dismissive mumbles. The multitool was clutched tightly in your hand.

There's a maroon Sebring a quarter mile away that you know Vigilante has ducked down behind before you even properly see it.

"You and I both know what my powers are, Vij," you sighed after turning your mic off.

"I still want to ask how you found me," you hear, "but only because that's how this kind of dialogue usually goes."

"Chaser isn't just a vanity title," you found yourself grinning, leaning on the hood of his car. Vigilante pops up, and you like to imagine him looking miffed. You offer his multitool with a blithe smile, "you should also take this if you don't want me to be able to find you again."

"Why are you out here?" He asks slowly, taking the multitool finally. You breathe a sigh of relief, climbing to sit on the hood of his car.

"I was bored," you told him honestly, before adding, "also I almost gave that away, I know you said I should keep it but really it's in safer hands with you."

"To who?" Vigilante asks finally, and when you ask if he has any snacks instead, he offers a protein bar from the box in his back seat. He's got binoculars, and a shitty radio with the other having been stashed near the others.

"What do you mean?"

"Who did you try to give the multitool away to?" Vigilante clarifies. At that you lean back against his windscreen, scrubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms.

"I know his name," you groaned with frustration, "he told me!" You actually whined, before the idea came to you, "you're from around here aren't you?"

"I- uh-"

"At Fennel Fields, you literally bought us lunch from there the other day, starts with A, around my age, he's -" Vigilante is frozen beside you when you turn to him, his arms are crossed so tightly over his chest it looks painful, "Vij, your dick has been inside me, and I'm pretty sure you used to get off to the idea of fighting me-" he loudly spluttered protests at that, but you continued, "you are not allowed to judge me -"

"For what- why?! I'm not judging you!" He crowed, and you puffed out your cheeks for a moment.

"Seriously, you're not allowed to judge me, or tell Chris about what I'm about to say, he's already a judgemental bitch about my taste -"

"What does that even mean?"

"Don't worry about it," you blurted quickly before powering on, "the bus boy, the cute one with the face and the - don't fucking judge me, Vij - the nice hands, good handshake - Adrian!" You lit up, as the name finally found you.

"What?"

"His name is Adrian!"

A long silence follows.

"Why would you save something like that?"

"Save?"

"Like with your powers."

"He told me, and I remembered it, like a normal fucking person," then, after a long moment, you couldn't help but point out, "you sound weird, Vij," you smile slyly, "don't be jealous, you're still my favourite from around town."

"Peacemaker is-"

"I adore Chris but not only does he bully me but he also knows you're my favourite and bullies me about it."

"But I'm Peacemaker's best friend, I can't be your best friend -" Vigilante was beginning to sound distressed, and immediately you tried to assure him.

"No, dude I know, it's okay, I'm not asking you for anything, I have a best friend, it's Harcourt -"

"Is she the one who tried to veto our friendship -?"

"You called it a friendship!" You crowed with delight, "I win! We're friends!"

"Yeah, obviously," Vigilante snorted. A far more comfortable silence fell over the two of you, and you opened the protein bar. Then, out of nowhere, he leans over enough to bump your shoulder with his.

"You've got a crush on a bus boy, you're so lame!"

"Oh god," you groaned, "you're not jealous, you're just a nosy bitch like Chris," you shoved him back, "and who I do or do not have a thing for is actually none of your business, Vij."

"Actually it kind of is," he sounds like he's stifling a laugh.

"Why? Has Chris said something?"

"About what?" He seems genuinely confused for the moment, but it piques your interest. Why would Vigilante feel like your feelings are his business if Chris hadn't mentioned your possible crush on him?

Still, as neither of you seem to be able to elaborate one way or the other, a comfortable silence settles between you as you sit side-by-side on the hood of his car.

"I thought you only knew how to find someone when you were in contact with a thing of theirs," Vigilante mused, inspecting his multitool carefully for a long few moments. Considering how surprisingly forthcoming you usually were about your powers and how they worked, the sudden silence he's met with actually surprises him.

When he looks to you, for the first time he can remember, there's a cold, calculating look in your eyes. It's the first time he'd felt like you came close to resembling your reputation.

"Why?" There's no humour, nothing light; he doesn't quite understand what nerve he's struck, but clearly it's an unexpected one.

"Uh," he's at a loss, momentarily fumbling for the reason he'd brought it up in the first place, while you're laser-like focus never sways from his face, "I thought you were wearing your gloves when you found me," he points out, before he looks back at the tool, "but that's what you do, right? You have to have skin contact - like, your hand has to have skin contact with the thing of whoever you're chasing down, and then you know them and you kill them," his frown grows deeper as he considers how you'd arrived, muttering to himself, "that can't be right..."

"You're very observant." Your voice has that strange, cool tone, and there's sirens going off in the back of his head that he's in immediate danger. He can feel his tool belt heavy on his hips, wondering if he'd be fast enough to stop you if you sprang at him. But you're too close, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the hood of his Sebring; if you attacked, he can't trust that you don't have some form of plan, some kind of weapon or training assistance in your pockets. There's a moment when he wonders if this is where he dies.

"You know the owner of whatever you touch, right? And their position and the thing's whole history and whatever, you know that while you're in contact with it, right?" He tries to keep his tone light, like he can't see the way your pupils have grown dark and wide and searching.

"Right," you say slowly.

"Well parts... Parts of this conversation, I don't think would make sense if you knew that much about me," he admits easily, leaning back on his elbows, repositioning himself to appear more casual while his taser became more easily accessible.

"And...?"

"I won't tell, you know?" He shoots for casual, and angles his head just a little further towards you, enough to see your eyebrows slowly rise, "that you like me so much you wanna know my location forever. You saved it, and you're embarrassed that I figured out how much you like me." He's spelled it out. Stated in no undercertain terms. Sure, he dressed it up in something light and teasing, but you both knew now that he knew that you could retain more than just memories; that much, he concluded, wasn't information you were quick to broadcast.

Despite his teasing, light tone, he watches the way your expression shifts. His fingers twitch towards his toolbelt in anticipation; if you were going to kill him, now would be the time.

Your expression, however, slides from cold, to genuine surprise, to uncharacteristically thoughtful, before you scrunch up your whole face with a bashful smile.

"I can give it back," you tell him, expression still squished, eyes still closed like you don't want to look at him, to see him looking at you, "I should have given it back before I gave the tool back to you, I'm sorry," your expression smooths out, eyes opening with something faintly exasperated and apologetic as you look at him, "it's weird, I must seem so weird, I'm sorry, I can -"

"Why didn't you?" It's not accusatory, he's genuinely enquiring. Your rambling stops, and you give a little half-smile, as if there's some kind of joke he's not privy to.

"I think there's something I don't want to know about you."

"That you got from my little, tool thing?" At his question, you nodded, still wearing that smile, "but you knew who I was when you held it?" Another nod from you, "but you didn't think that was important to save, like, all things considered?"

After a very long moment, you took a deep breath, looking over your other shoulder to the woods from which you'd emerged. Vigilante sits back up, resting his elbows on his knees, reasonably sure you weren't going to attack him.

"You're okay with knowing my location at all times, but don't think it'd be important to know my name?"

"I can give it back," you insisted again, still not looking at him. This time, however, you offer a hand towards him. For a long moment, he looks at your open, gloved hand, and frowns.

"If you don't want to know about me, you should give it back," he sounds almost sulky as he rummaged through his pocket for the tool.

"I didn't think it'd be as damning as your name," you admitted lightly, turning to look at him, amused.

"Well you'll probably be able to figure out where I work, where I live, where I patrol -" he's sounding grumpier by the second as he practically slams the tool into your waiting hand, still rambling, "Google maps is free, it's not a very big town, and I can't control what you do with your days off -"

"I wouldn't stalk you!" The way you laughed made it sound like you found the very notion absurd.

"So even if you do have the means to find out who I am, you won't even bother?"

"I'm sorry," you scoffed, "are you offended right now?" Removing your glove you both fall silent as your fingers close around the multitool. Vigilante immediately stiffens beside you, gaze snapping to your face, only to see your eyes squeezed shut, expression reading almost embarrassed.

"Ah, fuck, take it, I'm an idiot -" you tell him after barely a moment, taking the tool with your gloved hand, holding it out. Eyes still closed, you appear to be wincing.

"What just happened?" He asks, clearly confused.

"I probably found the thing I didn't want to know," you cracked your eyes open, expression still a little pained, "which was probably reliving me trying to awkwardly give it away as a tip to that poor busboy in excruciating detail, the way my powers like to show everything."

"What?"

How- why- surely you knew he was that busboy, right?! You'd just been in contact with his multitool, you must know he's Adrian Chase, that very same busboy, who's definitely taken that very tool to work in his back pocket at least three times before -

Granted, Adrian knows he's not the best at reading people in situations like this, but he's pretty sure that if you were operating with the knowledge of who exactly he was, you wouldn't be reacting like this.

"Seriously," you wave the tool at him a little more insistently, "it doesn't take me long to give back things like that, you can go and get lost if you want, and I'd never be able to find you," you hesitated for a moment, "well, not using my power. There's still conventional methods, you know?" After another moment of deliberation you add, "but they haven't caught you yet!"

Vigilante takes the multitool, quickly stashing it back in his pocket.

"So you've had the ability to know my secret identity ever since we first met, pretty much, and you haven't even bothered?" Again, he sounds strangely offended.

"I didn't think you'd want me to?" You frown, confused.

"I don't, but still!"

"I wouldn't violate your boundaries just because I can!" And while Vigilante babbled out half-protests, clearly having not thought about it from that angle, you sit back, "and learning your secret identity with my powers would just cause so many issues I don't want to deal with now," you continue talking, listing off the issues without giving him a chance to interject; "one, you're my friend and this would mean you'd probably never trust me again, which would be a bummer and a half, two, I'd have zero plausible deniability, not that anyone's asking me to identify you in a line-up, but like, in our line of work, if I knew who you were and I saw you on the street and had even a slight reaction, that could be bad, and three," you sighed, taking a moment to breath, "interacting with you, knowing your identity, and knowing you didn't want me to know it, that kind of unbalanced dynamic in a friendship it feels like -" you searched for the word, but Vigilante cut in, tone surprisingly understanding.

"Meta-gaming."

After a beat of silence, you frown and remind him you don't play videogames. Laughing, he shakes his head, tone having brightened considerably.

"No, it's from- well, I know it from D&D, but I think it's a thing in most tabletop role playing games like that; like say our group, in the game, has split up, and my character's in a tavern hitting on some hot elf, and then we have to focus on some of the other characters, who have just found out from someone else in the bar that the hot elf is here to see her half-elf son, and they put two and two together and realise she's my estranged mom or something, and I, as the player, have heard all this because the entire group of players is sitting around my friend Alec's table in his basement, but my half-elf character wouldn't be aware of this development. I can't just be all like 'ew gross you're my mom' in character, because my character wasn't with their characters in the game when they found out. I'd be operating on information I logically shouldn't know; meta-gaming." He shrugged for a moment, looking out ahead and stretching, seemingly pleased with the surprisingly fitting explanation, "I don't know, I get it can be hard to not meta-game when you have the information and can't get rid of it, and maybe some people feel more powerful or secure or whatever having that information, but I don't think it's as satisfying for my character, you know?"

"I know -" you say, quietly.

"There's no -" and he's halfway through his next sentence before he'd registered what you'd said, and it finally hits him as his final words trail off - "... fun in that."

"Exactly," and you're wearing this soft, gentle smile as you look at him, and he can't quite believe it's taken him this long for it to actually make sense.

"You haven't been doing a bit; you - Chaser, Y/N - you like me as a person. You like being around me." His bluntness leaves you flustered, but you try to laugh it off, having though that you'd made as much clear already. He still seems to be in shock from this revelation, however - "you don't benefit from being close to me, I've straight up admitted to fantasizing about killing you for years, you... want to be my friend," he paused, "like normal people do." His tone was soft but otherwise unreadable, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at him.

"Sorry, I know all things considered, that's probably really weird, and like, borderline impossible," you admit with a self-conscious laugh.

"All things considered, you're putting in a lot of effort," Vigilante hesitates, "more than I realised." Then, "you're good at being a friend, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I'm good at everything," you answer automatically, sounding like your mind is far away, quoting someone else, "that's the point of me." After a moment, you seem to come back to yourself, and give him a smile, "but I'm trying, so thanks."

And neither of you quite knows where to go from there. There's so much more you want to say, but again, all things considered, there's no way it'd be the right time to bring any of it up. It's too early in the friendship for anything more. Yet. Hopefully.

You know you should head back. Your comms have been blinking a red light at you for the past three minutes, if you didn't answer soon, Harcourt would probably send Economos or Adebayo out looking for you, and you didn't want to get Vigilante caught.

So, you jumped from the hood of his car, stretching, breaking the moment.

"Cool, just came by to drop off the multitool, I should head back," you announce nonchalantly, leaving Vigilante to catch up on the mood shift.

"Uh, okay, sure -" he nods, "be, uh, safe or whatever? Good luck?"

You're already headed back the way you came, and you throw a wave over your shoulder as you click your comms back to life -

"- five-to-one odds she's dead somewhere, probably roadkill," is the first thing you hear, from Peacemaker of all people.

"I'll take those odds," Economos snipes back, and you debate whether or not to pipe up, or stay quiet and see if John could make some money off of Chris and his bullshit about you. Ultimately, however, you knew you had to interject.

"I appreciate the show of support, John," you answered cheerfully, which only ignited everyone else in the chat, berating you on being gone with your comms off for at least fifteen minutes.

"I'm sending Economos to come and get you," Harcourt sounded less than pleased, once the outrage had died down, despite John's protests -

"Why me?!"

Glancing over your shoulder, you knew it would be too close for comfort for Vigilante.

"Sure," you answered easily, "I can show him where I shit in the woods."

Silence.

"The fuck?" From Economos.

"Yeah," you continued blithely, "what did you guys think I was doing?"

"Not shitting in the woods!" Harcourt countered without missing a beat, "what is wrong with you?!"

"Don't answer that," Economos added, before you got the chance, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"When in Rome -" your response was infuriatingly mellow.

"- shit in the woods?" Adebayo sounded like she couldn't quite believe the situation at hand, and you snorted.

"I feel like I have a better understanding of bears now, spiritually," after a beat you added, "thought it might help with the mission."

"Why would it help with the mission?" Economos groaned.

"The Berenstain Bears?" You reminded them all.

"They're not the kind of bears that shit in the woods," Adebayo sighed deeply.

"And they're just code names!" Economos crowed with frustration at your continued antics. Still, when you get back, no-one asks where you've been, and no-one seems to want to investigate your absence further.

#vigilante x reader #adrian chase x reader #vigilante imagine #adrian chase imagine #peacemaker #peacemaker hbo #peacemaker imagine #peacemaker x reader #vigilante #adrian chase #vigilante peacemaker #emilia romagna #wybu

[bingoboingobongo]

complex simplicity pt. ii

Pairing: Adrian Chase (Peacemaker) x Reader

Type: Fluff, angst

Summary: The team finally sets out on their mission, and Adrian deals with the events of last night

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: feminine pronouns used (she/her), angst, bodily injury, blood, descriptions of violence, previous trauma, character death

A/N: hiii, welp. it's finally done. after ten trillion years of constant dread, over three rewrites, and chronic procrastination, she's finally here. my longest fic ever (i think). i hope you like it, i have no idea if there's still an Adrian Chase fandom, but to everyone that has stayed throughout my unofficial hiatus, thank you. as always, likes/reblogs and constructive criticism are always appreciated, again thank you so much. please enjoy :)

Masterlist

part one

Adrian very rarely felt happy. Although perhaps that was an overstatement. A better way to phrase it, Adrian supposed, was that he very rarely felt the way he felt now: elated; ecstatic; euphoric; like his heart was about to burst out of his chest spewing nothing but love and joy and jubilee all over the room in some passionate, exuberant, macabre scene.

In fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever felt this way. The entire ordeal was entirely unique, Adrian realized. For one, there was nobody else in the entire galaxy that could ever compare to the woman nestled into his chest, with her small frown and pursed eyebrows even as she slept. And secondly, there was nobody else in the entire galaxy that Adrian would ever want so desperately.

There was no doubt in Adrian’s mind when he realized that nobody — not even Chris, who he admired with his whole being — could ever make him feel as exhilarated as she did. She was, in all ways, one of a kind.

When Adrian woke there was no longer the comforting weight of the coworker he had spent months pining over on his chest, and for a moment he feared the worst. Could the whole thing have been a dream? A cruel concoction created by his brain meant to torment and him? It wouldn’t have been the first time he dreamt about her, and he didn’t doubt that it wouldn’t be the last.

But when he got up, his heart beating out of his chest — for all the wrong reasons now — he realized that familiar scent that always lingered around her was stuck to his skin. That sweet, fresh, intoxicating scent that had a hint of something he could never quite place, had found a home on the planes of his torso, and Adrian realized that if he could, he would’ve bottled the fragrance and sprayed it on every article of clothing he owned so that he could surround himself with her.

“Oh, you’re finally up,” she said, staring at Adrian from the door of the bathroom, and Adrian scrambled to put his glasses on. She was rubbing something on her face, moisturizer or some fancy serum, Adrian guessed, and his mind was flooded with images of him rubbing his hands over her and savoring in the softness of her skin, before he rubbed his eyes, trying to rid his brain of the picture that had been burned into it.

“Uh, yeah. How long have you been up? I mean, I’m assuming it’s been a while, you look pretty great right now. I mean awake. You look awake, not great. I mean, it’s not that you don’t look great, but I feel like it’s weird if I say you look great so I was saying that you look awake. At least, I assume so. Since you’re doing all your makeup or something. Not that you need it. You’re really pretty alrea—”

“Ok, I’m gonna stop you right there before you say something you regret,” she cut in, and despite her light tone Adrian couldn’t get past the slightly critical look she was giving him. “Economos sent me the location,” she said, “get ready. We’re leaving in thirty.”

To his surprise, Adrian got ready surprisingly fast. He figured that considering the events from the night before, as well as the catastrophe of this morning, his neurons would be way too fried for him to even get out of bed, and yet thirty minutes later he was sitting in the driver’s seat of a Dodge Challenger, going sixty miles per hour down a desolate road.

Adrian let out a whistle, “So, what do you think Waller has us doing today?”

“God I hope it’s not aliens,” she sighed, reaching into the back seat for her bag. “But let’s be real, Leota’s press conference stunt did nothing but get us heat from Waller and the rest of the government. Stupid press didn’t even do anything. She’s probably found another deadly alien race that she needs us to kill. God knows we’re expendable enough to her,” she muttered, pulling out a small handgun and loading the clip.

“I don’t know, I enjoyed fighting the butterflies,” Adrian chirped, “plus, it felt super awesome when we told the Justice League that they could suck it because they were dumb weaklings that couldn’t even arrive on time.”

She paused what she was doing to give Adrian a quizzical look, “You didn’t even say anything to them, Chase. Chris was the only one that said anything and all he said was that they were late.”

“Still though,” he pressed, “I’m sure they could understand what I was trying to say. Wanna listen to the radio?”

“Uh, sure. Do they have NPR?” she asked, prompting Adrian to give her a disapproving look. “I’m joking,” she said after a beat, “lord knows your head would explode if you listened to anything other than 90’s bubblegum pop or whatever music Chris listens to. What is it, 80’s metal?”

“Actually, it’s 80’s glam-metal, and it’s amazing. How can you call yourself an 11th Street Kid if you think glam-metal is the same as regular metal?” he scoffed, “I mean, I’ve heard of a lot of insane things over the years, but that takes the cake.”

“What’s even the difference between glam-metal and regular metal anyways? It all sounds pretty similar to me,” she said, her eyes squinted in concentration as loaded the clip on another handgun.

Adrian laughed out loud this time, turning to look over at her with a fake look of shock painted on his face, “Ok, I lied about that last thing. This, this is the most insane thing I have ever heard come out of someone’s mouth. Glam-metal and regular metal are the most different things in the entire world. Chris told me all about it. Regular metal is lame and boring and is made for cowards, glam-metal is ten times better, it’s the most unlame genre ever made, and it’s made for real men. The difference is that glam-metal—”

“Hey, stop here,” she interrupted him as they pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned grocery store, “guess you won’t be able to tell me about how amazing glam-metal is. I’m devastated,” she said, climbing out of the car, and even Adrian could pick up on her sarcasm. “Grab your bag, I don’t want to get screwed over if someone tries to steal this car.” With a sigh, Adrian grabbed his bag from the car and slung it over his shoulder as the two of them walked towards the store.

If the half-fallen sign in the front of the building wasn’t enough indication that the place hadn’t been visited for years, the inside was. Shelves were knocked over, trash was piled in corners, and various assortments of canned goods lined the floors.

“Hey, look at this,” Adrian grunted, squatting down to pick a package off the floor, “it’s a pack of beef jerky. Think it’s still good?”

“I- No, Adrian. I do not think floor jerky from an abandoned grocery store is good,” she said incredulously.

But in typical Adrian fashion, the word of his peers was never enough, and so he opened up the years-old package and popped a piece in his mouth. “Hm,” he hummed to himself as he chewed, “you know, it’s not as bad as I thought. It’s a little stale, but given the price I paid for these, I’d say it’s a total win. Want one?”

“Oh my god Adrian,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes, “I- Just come on, We’ve gotta meet the others, I don’t have time to deal with you and your floor jerky.” With a resigned shrug of his shoulders, Adrian followed her throughout the derelict store, chewing contentedly on his floor jerky until they reached a small room in the back. She stopped in front of the door, and with a deep breath, gave one sharp rap, followed by two quick ones and one delayed one. The two of them waited in silence for a brief moment before the door opened, revealing Leota by the door, Emilia leaning over a large map, John typing away at his computer, and Chris staring over his shoulder.

“Finally,” John sighed, looking up from his screen, “what took you guys so long?”

“Adrian ate ten year-old floor-jerky,” she explained, which caused a groan from everyone.

“What?” Adrian cried, “jerky is what you eat during the apocalypse, it’s made to be eaten centuries after it’s cooked.”

Leota scoffed, “That is not true, and also there are rats here man. How do you know your floor-jerky wasn’t part of some rat’s dinner?”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna die of plague, that hasn’t killed anyone since the year 200, Adebayo. And if I were to catch it, I could probably just sleep it off,” Adrian said, chuckling.

“Dude, you can’t just sleep off plague,” Chris butted in.

“Uh, I totally could,” Adrian persisted.

“Dude,” John said, “it’s plague.”

“Ok we get it,” she cut in, silencing Adrian with a look that only encouraged the butterflies in his stomach, “Adrian’s stupid and he’s probably gonna die. What else is new? Now can we figure out what the hell is going on with this mission?”

Emilia looked up from the map, passing out dossiers to each member of the team. “Ten weeks ago, the President’s secret service arrived in Maine to secure a location the president would be speaking at,” she explained, pointing to a circled area on the map. “Within the hour, all five agents were found dead on the scene. First responders noted a single gunshot right between the eyebrows on each agent, ballistics assuming that they were shot long-distance, presumably a sniper.”

“Wait, they’re assuming?” Chris asked, looking up from the file, “these nerds spend all day analyzing bullets and they can’t even find out what gun the bullet is from?”

“Well these ‘nerds’ are the only people we have so don’t complain,” Emilia said, “besides, it’s pretty hard to analyze a bullet when there aren’t any.”

“Wait,” Adrian said slowly, “so whoever shot them took the bullets back after they were done?”

“Hey, what’s this?” she asked, and her voice sounded like a symphony to Adrian’s ears. “The autopsy report stated that the cause of death was batrachotoxin? What in the world is that? And does this mean the shots were done post-mortem?”

“Batrachotoxin,” John started, bringing his laptop over to the center of the table, “is an insanely powerful neurotoxin found on, get this, the skin of poison dart frogs. Get less than a gram of this stuff into your bloodstream, and in less then ten minutes you’ll be suffering from paralysis and then death.”

“Well that doesn’t make any sense,” Chris started.

“Exactly,” Emilia cut in, “if the toxin was already gonna kill them, why bother shooting them?”

“Oh, that’s not what I was talking about,” Chris said, “I was talking about the thing Economos said. How do you suffer from death? You can’t be suffering from death because you’ll already be dead.”

“Ok, it’s a figure of speech,” John said.

“Yeah, a dumb one,” Chris said, chuckling, “you know John, I was actually starting to think you were smart when you were talking about all that poison stuff but then this?”

“Hey screw you!” John yelled, although his protest was diminished by Chris’ roars of laughter.

“Ok, everyone shut up!” Emilia yelled, clenching her fists together. “We’re not done here yet, keep your egos in check until we’re done, got it?” she asked, “good. Now, since then, secret service agents have been dying the same way whenever they go to scout out a new location. It’s always the same situation: death by batrachotoxin, a post-mortem bullet to the head with no bullet, no witnesses, suspects, or evidence.”

“So, what are we doing here?” Adrian asked.

“At 5 this afternoon, the secret service is supposed to scout out an outdoor speaking event for the president. Waller wants us to arrive beforehand and see if there’s anyone suspicious who may be our guy. In the event that we do see him, Waller has been very insistent that we do not kill him? Understand?” Emilia asked, eyeing Chris and Adrian.

“Hey, why are you looking at us?” Adrian whined.

“Because you’re not exactly Mahatma Gandhi, and if we kill our guy, Waller will kill us.”

“The deaths coincide with dates the president is supposed to talk about his new anti-nuclear weapon policy, is it possible this is a rival politician trying to stop the president from talking about his new policy?” Leota asked.

“That’s our current lead,” Emilia explained, “Economos has been looking into politicians that disagree with the president’s policy, we’ve been tracking their comings and goings, looking into their communications, and trying to find anything that might lead to our guy. However, given the fact that we were assigned this mission two nights ago and the concerningly large number of politicians that want more nukes, we’ve barely been able to get through anything.”

“You said the senator was coming in right Harcourt? That’s why our hotel was so booked up. And this poison has to be coming from somewhere, poison dart frogs are native to central america right? So shouldn’t we be checking whether or not any of these guys have made repeated trips down to the border? I mean, getting this stuff through customs can’t be easy,” she pointed out, and when Adrian looked over at her, he had to physically stop himself from staring at her for too long.

“You’re right. Economos, check that out. For now, Leota and John will stay at the hotel and research our politicians. The rest of us will go to the location and try and see if we find anyone. This,” Emilia explained, pointing to another circle on the map, “is where the president will be speaking. Me and Chris will be watching the park and the two of you will surveill the forest behind it. If these shots were done by a sniper, the forest would be a good place to do it.”

Adrian sucked in a sharp breath, he was nervous, to say the least. “Hey Harcourt?” he asked, “can I talk to you real quick?”

Emilia sighed, but she let Adrian pull her aside while the rest of the team continued to look through the case files. “What do you need, Chase?” she asked with a sigh.

“I’m not trying to be uncool or anything but do you think it’s possible that I could go with Chris instead? It’s just that we’ve got a real ‘Bert-and-Ernie’ vibe and I think it would be good for the mission.”

Emilia sighed, “Bert and Ernie? Like from Sesame Street?”

“Wait, that’s where it’s from?” Adrian asked incredulously, “I thought Bert and Ernie were just some really good friends from like 1934 or something, and then they were just known throughout town as being really good friends, and so when someone else wanted to prove how good of friends they were with someone else, they would just say that they had a Bert and Ernie friendship, since Bert and Er—”

“Ok shut up Chase,” Emilia demanded. “Is this about your weird little crush on her?” she asked, gesturing over to where she currently sat, rifling through the dossier with that familiar crinkle in her brow.

Adrian scoffed loudly, “Please, what? Crush? Who- Who said I had a crush on her? Please, that’s- How old am I? Twelve? I don’t… I don’t like her.”

Emilia stared at him, her lack of belief in his statement clear on her face. “Well then, if you don’t like her then you should be fine working with her,” she said, turning away from Adrian with a shake of her head. “But Adrian?” she said, turning back to face him, “if you mess this up because you couldn’t keep it in your pants, Waller won’t be the only woman looking for your head.”

“Got it,” Adrian said awkwardly, although Harcourt had already walked away from him. Puffing air out of his lips, Adrian walked over to where his roommate and subsequent heartstopper was standing. He allowed himself to admire her focused stare for a second before he cleared his throat. “So…” he started, swinging his hands around. “Guess we’re gonna be partners… again,” he said, laughing awkwardly. “Just… two normal coworkers… working together… no weird feelings. I mean, of course there’s no weird feelings, I don’t even have feelings like I said last night, which was a totally normal night where nothing happened, definitely not during the middle of the night when you were sleeping… so should we go to the car?” he said, after clocking her stare.

“You’re acting really weird Chase,” she said, looking him up and down. “Let’s just get this done alright?” she said, slinging a duffel bag over her shoulder. Adrian watched her walk away for a moment before following her, but before he could Chris stopped him.

“Dude, just admit it, you like her,” Chris said.

“Psh, uh- wha- huh? I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about Chris, I have no feelings towards her at all, and definitely not love feelings,” Adrian spluttered frantically.

“Jesus Christ you’re hopeless Adrian.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that anyone with two eyes and half a brain can tell that you’re way into her dude. And I don’t mean that you just like her romantically, you’re pretty much in love you idiot.”

“Ok, that’s just not true Chris,” Adrian protested, although he had to admit that he had thought about it, “you should know better than anyone else that love? That’s just not the Vigilante-way. You and I? We put criminals to sleep and take their women to bed. We don’t get hung up on love or relationships or dreaming about owning a two story house with a white picket fence or a New York apartment or whatever housing situation our lover likes the best because they’re the most important thing to us and we would do anything to make them happy. No, the only people you and I are interested in is criminals, and murdering them. I know your time in Belle Reeve changed you and now you’re like this peace-loving hippie that doesn’t want to kill anyone and has crushes on people, but that’s not me. That’s not Vigilante. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go join my work partner on a very normal drive which I will very much enjoy because she is my coworker, and the only feelings I have towards her are respect and friendship.”

Chris shook his head. “Whatever you say man,” he said, giving Adrian a hard clap on the shoulder and sending him away.

“Sorry about that,” Adrian said as he climbed into the passenger seat of the car.

“About what?” she asked, flexing her hands against the steering wheel.

“Well- Chris had to talk to me about… something, so that’s why I took so long to come out.”

“Oh,” she said, “I didn’t notice.”

The two of them didn’t say much after that; she stared silently ahead at the road in front of them while Adrian gazed out the window, his eyes only flickering over to her occasionally. He wasn’t sure why but there was something off about her now. She was a naturally stoic and silent person, he knew — after all it was one of the reasons why he was so obsessed with her — but there was something else beneath her constrained quietness. A difference in the air around her; usually it felt calm, serene, still. But now, he could almost sense something disturbed about it. As if her stony facade were a smooth pond that had been marred by outward-moving rings of concentric circles, and yet what had caused the disturbance was still unknown, its very nature hidden away in the depths of the water.

It was then that Adrian thought back to the night before. He mulled over their conversations, choosing to skip over his many social errs and follies, when he remembered something that had struck him as odd when he heard it. “What did you mean when you said the bed was ‘too big’ last night?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“What did you mean when you asked Harcourt for a new partner?” she countered immediately, and to his surprise Adrian could feel a hint of emotion deep underneath her words, although the exact one was still unknown to him.

“I- That- It wasn’t what you think it was,” he tried to explain.

She chuckled dryly. “Is working with me really so horrible?” she asked, but Adrian could still sense that foreign emotion nudging at the edge of her words, yearning to free itself from its prison.

“No! No, not at all! It’s the opposite of that really,” Adrian said hurriedly. “It’s just that- I- You- I think… I think that you and I… I’m worried that we’re not… compatible? And… I guess that I’m just worried that you think I’m… you know,” he said, mumbling the last part.

“You’re what?” she asked, looking over at him, “weird? Annoying? Way too talkative?”

Adrian sighed, nodding glumly as he looked out the window. To his annoyance, it was ironically bright outside. The sun shining brightly overhead, there were no clouds in the sky, and the trees were rife with leaves as green as shamrocks. It looked like a scene from an oppressively happy movie — one that would be filled to the brim with cheesy romance, choreographed musical numbers, and shallow conflict that would be resolved in minutes. In other words, the exact opposite of his life.

“You’re right, I guess,” she said, her voice growing smaller now. “I do think you’re weird and annoying and way too talkative, but… for what it’s worth, I don’t really mind, and I don’t really mind… working with you,” she said, her voice now so quiet that it was barely above a whisper.

And it was then that the wool was finally pulled off Adrian’s eyes and he could see with startling clarity what he had missed before. The object that had disturbed the smooth pond of her aura, the hidden emotion that lurked beneath her words, he knew what it was now. He held it on the forefront of his mind and the tip of his tongue.

Betrayal.

She had overheard him asking for a partner change and she had felt hurt, she had felt offended, she had felt betrayed. And Adrian couldn’t have been more joyful. After what seemed like eons of searching for answers, for clues, anything that could’ve tipped the scales ever-so-slightly in his favor, he had found the very thing that would solve all his problems. Proof. Real, physical, audible proof that came out of her mouth that she cared. She cared about what he thought of her, even more, she enjoyed working with him. In all ways, it was a success, and Adrian had to fight to stop himself from bursting into giddy laughter right then and there.

“What are you grinning about?” she asked him, the betrayal no longer in her voice but instead replaced by something Adrian believed — hoped, really — to be playfulness.

“Nothing,” he said coyly, his smile growing impossibly bigger. “I mean, if I didn’t know any better I would say that you liked me,” he teased, grinning at her.

She glared back at him, but this time Adrian figured it held slightly less contempt that normal, “Say something stupid like that again and I’ll shoot you right now, got it Chase?” she threatened.

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled, “like you’re gonna murder the love of your life.”

“Good god,” she sighed, rolling her eyes as she redirected her attention back to the road.

When they arrived at the location there was nothing particularly absurd about it. It was a medium-sized field of green grass surrounded by a ring of forest behind it. There was a podium in the center of the field, its body covered by a banner of the President’s face, the background of which was covered with patriotic reds and blues. In front of it were rows upon rows of folding chairs, and behind the podium were six American flags, the cloth hanging limply in the windless air.

“Come on,” she sighed, “Harcourt says we have to surveill the forest so we better get set up.” The forest seemed to be well over a mile away from where they stood, and so with a groan Adrian grabbed his things and followed behind her.

The trek to the forest was tedious at best. By then, the sun was directly overhead and its suffocating rays beat down at them insistently. Adrian could feel his body begin to drip with sweat as they trudged towards the forest, which seemed to only grow further and further away. To take his mind away from the torrid atmosphere, he focused on the person in front of him. The way her hair jolted every so slightly as she walked. The resoluteness of each step she took, as if each was carefully planned to take her further. The way she had finally admitted to him that she had some sort of feelings towards him, even if her voice was so quiet he worried that he may have imagined it.

With his focus diverted to her, the arid walk to the forest seemed irrelevant, like an after-thought, and before long they were standing on the edge of the trees. It was here Adrian realized that what he thought had been a densely packed area of trees was really nothing of the sort. In reality, the forest was quite sparse and exiguous; in fact, if you looked up the sky was startlingly visible. Its cloudless, turquoise expanse looming over them.

“Well, shall we go in m’lady?” he asked, sweeping his hand outward. She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath but she went in regardless.

As she walked in, Adrian realized that they were sorely under-resourced for this kind of mission. The forest was impressively large, and even if it was relatively devoid of trees and shrubs, it would still take hours to search it completely. “Hey,” Adrian said, reaching for her shoulder to stop her from diligently soldiering on, “How are we supposed to find someone in here? This place is huge.”

She paused, scanning their surroundings, “You’ve got a point Chase,” she admitted, “I guess our best option would be to split up and look around, maybe find a vantage point a sniper might like. From there, if we don’t find them I guess we can find somewhere to meet up.” Adrian nodded slowly, although he was too preoccupied being upset that they would have to split up to truly understand what she was saying. She continued again, “I’ll radio Harcourt to tell her the plan, you go west, I’ll go east. We’ll walk to the edge of the forest and from there converge in the north. Check out high points and anything suspicious, if we find anything, radio each other. This guy is definitely a professional, so don’t engage unless we’re both there, or unless you’re one hundred percent sure that you can neutralize him without killing him. Remember, if he dies, Waller will make sure we do too. Got it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Adrian said, “hey if you want, I can go east. I was just thinking that there are more trees eastward and since I have a helmet and you don’t I’m sure you could use the shade. Plus, this suit is insulated so it’s like a meat freezer in here, if you know what I mean.”

“Ugh, gross,” she said, “but whatever. Thanks, I guess.”

Adrian nodded enthusiastically in response, but by then she had already turned her back to him, the duffel bag of gear swinging as she slowly disappeared into the trees. With a sigh, Adrian readjusted the strap of his own duffel bag and turned towards the expanse he was to explore.

For the most part, his scouting was relatively uneventful. Occasionally, he would hear a rustle of leaves or a snapped twig, but when he went to check it out it would be nothing but the wind or a small animal. He spent most of the time lost in his thoughts, consumed by the hurricane of events that had preceded what he was doing now. The hotel room, the cuddling, the confession; just a few hours ago he had felt abandoned. Like the earth and the sky and everyone else was leaving him, off to live their happily ever afters without him.

But then, she had said those magical words, and Adrian’s world changed. No longer had he been left behind; now he was one with the earth and the sky and everyone else. He was one of them, ready to live out his own happily ever after with her. He repeated her words over and over in her head like a mantra, I don’t really mind working with you, he whispered to himself, taking steps in tandem with his words.

I don’t really mind working with you. One step.

I don’t really mind working with you. Two steps.

I don't really mind work—

“Chase,” he heard, the staticky chatter of the radio pulling him from his thoughts. “I think I see him, I just sent you my loca—” But then her voice was interrupted by a sickeningly familiar sound. One that rooted Adrian to his spot and sent chills cascading down his spine. A brief whistle of air followed by a startling crack as loud as a firework.

A gunshot.

Adrian began to panic. A gunshot was bad, very, very bad. She hadn’t been wearing a bulletproof vest. He had convinced her earlier that it was a needless precaution. It was dangerously hot outside and it would only slow them down. Besides, it wasn’t as if they were going to take him down alone.

By now they had to have been at least a mile away from each other. Even if he sprinted it would take him at least eight minutes to get there, and he wasn’t sure she had that long. For all he knew he could she could be dead.

That thought startled him into clarity, and in his newfound rationality he dropped the duffel and began running back where he came, digging furiously through his belt for his phone. Her coordinates only brought more bad news. Like he suspected, she was over a mile away. If she had been shot in the heart — which wouldn’t be unexpected, considering how good of a shot their suspect was — she would probably have died by now. A shot to the abdomen wasn’t good either. A few more minutes and she would be dead.

For now, Adrian could only cling onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t been the one to get shot. Maybe she shot him, or it was just a hunter somewhere miles away. Anything other than face the possibility that he may never see her again.

While he was running — branches scratching at his arms and rocks digging into his shoes — he came to another terrifying realization. Like him and Chris, she had a life outside of this. A life that he didn’t know, and that didn’t know him. She had other friends and other coworkers, and there was a frighteningly real chance that if she did die, he would never make it to her funeral. He would never be able to say his final goodbye. Never be able to at least cling onto her palm, no matter how cold it was, and tell her that he always loved her and that he’d never get over her.

And then with a shiver he realized it was all his fault.

He had been the one to convince her to take off her vest. He had been the one to propose they switch sides. He had been the one to make her life hell these past days. With his incessant pestering and teasing and blabbering. He should’ve been the one coming face-to-face with their sniper. His suit was already bulletproof, there would be no harm to him. She would come for back-up, they’d take him down, and maybe Adrian would even ask her out.

And now he wouldn’t even have the chance.

Adrian kept running throughout the forest. It was all he could do. All he knew how to do. One foot in front of the other. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Just like she had done just hours before when they were entering the forest. Just like she had before she fell victim to its cruel inhabitant.

His mind would’ve only spiraled further if his thoughts hadn’t been interrupted. From his belt, his radio began to chirp its small, static song. Without slowing down, Adrian pulled at the radio, holding it close to his ear to hear what was coming out.

“Where are—”

“Hel—”

“He got aw—”

“Tell Har—”

He could hear her voice crackling in and out of the receiver. Her voice was small and croaky. As if every word was strenuous and difficult. It did, however, bring a glimmer of hope. If she was strong enough to click the button of the radio and strong enough to lift it to her face, then there was a chance that she would be strong enough to hold on a little longer.

“Just wait,” he whispered into the radio, more of a plea than a request. “Please god, just wait. Please. Please. Please. You can’t go. Don’t go,” he babbled, realizing that tears had begun to stream down his face, soaking the inside of his mask. He kept rambling into the radio as he ran, not really knowing what he was saying and not really caring either.

After what seemed like a painfully long time, Adrian arrived at her location: a brief clearing near a cliffside. For a moment he couldn’t find her, and his heart was seized with panic and fear. The sight was unsettlingly macabre. In the center was a haunting trail of sticky blood. The crimson liquid tainting the green grass beneath it. His eyes traced up its winding path until he saw her, slumped over against a tree.

Her hands laid on either side of her, their palms facing the sky. The sight of her reminded him of biblical paintings he saw during his childhood. Jesus, his palms up to the sky, praising the Lord and readying himself to ascend to the heavens. It also reminded him of a sacrifice. As if someone had propped her up against the tree to sacrifice to some cruel god. Although, Adrian supposed, it was clear now that all gods were cruel. Cruel because they let her get hurt. Cruel because they made it his fault. Cruel because they made him love her.

He realized then that he hadn’t moved since entering the clearing and so he hastily rushed over to her. His hands fumbled and shook as he reached for her wrist. It was limp and pliable in his grip, but he could ever so faintly feel the whisper of a pulse. “Come on,” he whispered to her, “wake up. Come on. Wake up. Come on. Wake up.” Over and over again he repeated this, although it worked more to calm him than to stimulate her.

The first thing he needed to do was stop the bleeding. And yet, there was so much blood that he could barely tell where it began. At that point, his hyperventilating had begun to fog up his helmet, and so he lifted it off so he could care for her, frantically shoving his glasses onto his face. The lack of his helmet, however, made everything seem so much worse. With the red tint of his visor no longer there to mask some of the damage, he was forced to face the extent of her wounds head-on.

Clenching his hands into balls, he took a shaky breath to steady himself. Carefully, he began to feel around her abdomen, caressing the smooth canvas of her skin until he found it. The divot of a gunshot. As far as he knew it hadn’t hit anything vital, although he worried that it was dangerously close to her spinal cord.

Adrian swiveled around, searching for the duffel bag. It would have first aid in it, gauze, bandages, painkillers, but it was nowhere to be found. He realized that their mystery sniper had most likely taken it, and then he remembered why they had the duffel in the first place. The mission. Quickly, he grabbed the radio off of his belt, cursing as he fumbled wildly with the controls until he could tune into Harcourt and Chris’ frequency.

“Help,” he said frantically. “Help. Help. We need help. She got shot. I’ll send you our coordinates, just get help,” he said, too frenzied to add anything more.

He had to stop the bleeding. He had to find something that he could use to wrap it, to apply pressure. There was no duffel, no gauze, no bandages, so did the only thing he could think to do. He started undressing. As fast as he could he started shedding his gear, cursing his past self for adding so many layers.

After a frustratingly long time, he was finally left in a long-sleeve black shirt. Hastily, he ripped a large piece off the bottom and prepared to lift her. Adrian sat down next to her, and trying to be as careful as possible, slowly lifted her into his lap so that her head was resting on his leg. From this position, it was much easier for him to navigate her body. For him to carefully and tightly wrap the strip of cloth around her waist. For him to gently wipe some of the hair off of her bloodied face. For him to grip onto her hand and whisper that everything would be alright.

But there was too much blood, he realized. It didn’t make sense, it wasn’t possible to lose such a large amount of blood from one gunshot, which meant there had to be another. He looked back at the trail of blood. She was the strongest person he knew, if she dragged herself to the tree he knew it would be because she had to. With a bout of clarity, he began scanning her legs until his eyes rested on another wound.

This gunshot was located on her thigh, just above her knee. It was slowly spitting up blood, the liquid oozing out in small rivulets. Cursing under his breath, he fished a knife out from his belt and, carefully, cut away the cloth around it. He hastily peeled off his shirt so that he could construct a tourniquet and began to tie it around her leg, just above the wound.

Adrian held his breath as he watched the wound on her leg. To his relief, it had slowly stopped bleeding, and he let out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, stroking some hair off of her forehead, “I’m so sorry. It should’ve been me, this is all my fault.”

Then, for some reason Adrian couldn’t understand, he was overwhelmed with the urge to be close to her. And very carefully, he lifted her from where she lay and pulled her close to him so that her back was against his chest.

In these moments while he waited for the team to find them, it was quiet. With her against him, Adrian felt oddly peaceful. He felt placid. He felt as if he were floating in the middle of an ocean. He let himself be buoyed by the waves, opened himself up to the gentle lull of their movement. And so because he was very tired — after all he had been through so much already — he let himself close his eyes. He let himself dream.

He dreamed that they were in Paris, sitting on a balcony and watching the sun set. Her, leaning against him like she was now, and him with his arm around her waist, stroking the plane of her side tenderly. Once the sun set, they would stare with awe and amazement at just how quickly the city transformed. How it became bright and vibrant. How the Eiffel Tower lit up the night sky. She would stare up at him, and in her eyes would be a twinkle so bright and loving that it would outshine every other light in the city.

Or if they weren’t in Paris, perhaps they were in the Bahamas. Where the sky was always clear and the ocean was always blue. Where the sun was always shining, but not as forcefully as it had before. Instead, the sun’s rays would be gentle, a delight instead of a torment. They would be sitting along the beach, the sand nestled in between their toes, and Adrian would smile lazily down at her, and she would smile back.

By the time she woke up, Adrian had been in the hospital for over a day. They had been lucky though. The team had found them quickly and their sniper was caught fleeing the scene. The surgery went smoothly, and when it was done the doctors informed that team that had the bullet had narrowly missed her spinal cord as well as several internal organs. She would be in a coma, they told him, due to her severe blood loss but she would be awake again soon.

Adrian didn’t consider that lucky though. Luck was not getting shot in the first place. Luck was never being assigned to this wretched mission at all. Luck was being able to live your life without worrying about which government official was going to risk your life for some stupid political campaign.

He couldn’t help but be mad. At the sniper, at the team, at himself. It was all so preventable. If he had just pushed Harcourt a little further for a new teammate. If he had just kept his mouth shut instead of suggesting they switch sides. If he had just gotten there a little bit faster or tied the tourniquet a little bit tighter.

“I said the bed was too big because of something that happened before I joined the team,” she said, her voice small and raspy, and Adrian looked up. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed her stir from her hospital bed.

“What?” he asked, too shocked to say anything else.

“A few years ago,” she said, letting out a deep sigh, “I was an A.R.G.U.S. agent. I was young and dumb and reckless and I became friends with a fellow agent, Jason. One day, we were working a mission. We were in a big clearing and I was stupid and walked right in without checking for traps. It was a set-up of couse, and I got shot.” Adrian took in a sharp breathe at this, but she waved her hand dismissively and continued. “It wasn’t bad, just nicked my arm.”

“But Jason had followed me, and he wasn’t so lucky. He got shot in the chest, and before I knew it he was on the ground. It was a terrible feeling. We were like some dumb animal, wandering straight into a trap where we could just be plucked off one by one. I had no shield, no cover, nothing. There were bullets flying around me and I didn’t know what to do.

“I wasn’t thinking straight and so I did the first thing I could think of and ran back where I came from, leaving Jason behind. Once I was in the forest, I could see what happened to him. He had been shot more times than I could count. None of them fatal, which is worse. Eventually the bullets stopped, but I couldn’t go back out there. I watched, less than six feet away as one of my best friends choked to death on his own blood. All because of me.

“I remember what it felt like attending his funeral. It was in a cathedral. The ceiling was so high and the whole place was so open. It reminded me of when he died. Of the openness, of the vulnerability, of the shame.

“I realized then why A.R.G.U.S. tells you not to befriend any of your coworkers. It’s because you get close to them. And when they inevitably die, you obsess over it. And they were right. I did. I couldn’t stop thinking about how scared I had been, and how scared Jason must have been. I was able to get away relatively unharmed, but Jason’s body had been mutilated so badly the funeral had to be closed-casket.”

“That’s why you dragged yourself to the tree,” Adrian whispered quietly.

She nodded, and there was a hint of sadness behind her smile. “Why’d you tell me this?” Adrian asked softly, “I mean, I appreciate it but, it’s not exactly ‘in-character’ for you.”

She laughed lightly, “Well you saved my life out there Adrian. If it weren’t for you I would just be another Jason. I owed you one, and now my debt is repaid.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time,” he whispered, reaching out tentatively to grab her hand.

She let him grab it, and when he did she squeezed it back. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a terrible teammate.”

“Don’t say that, you’ve been perfect. You’re perfect,” he said.

Adrian smiled at her, and she smiled back. Once Adrian had considered her an enigma. A mystery. An equation waiting to be solved. But here in the hospital, with its fluorescent bulbs humming lightly and the dull buzz and whirs of the machines, he realized that she was anything but. At the end of the day, she was just a girl — a person, like him — who was scared. Who was haunted by the ghosts of her past. Who was more comfortable locking things away than presenting them freely. Who would rather be seen as someone intimidating and formidable than caring and emotional. And it was so simple, he realized, the basis of her being. Her motives, her desires, her wants. They were basic. They were human.

And yet as simple as they were, there was a layer of complexity to them. There was a layer of complexity to her. In a way, she reminded him of a bank vault. The mechanics of the door — the locks, the screws, the bolts — were intensely complicated. They were purposely designed to be impenetrable. Each facet was orchestrated so carefully so that the treasures inside would never be seen without the right password.

But now, Adrian had the right password. And when he was finally able to get past the vault's solid doors and view the treasure inside, he could finally appreciate just how beautifully simple it was. The luxuries inside were akin to diamonds, both in beauty and personality.

Like a diamond, she too had experienced a life of suffocating pressure. Pushing down farther and farther on her until finally, she did not crack, but instead became an impeccable jewel. A stone, unrivaled in its beauty and worth, with not even the slightest impurity to desecrate it. A diamond was beautiful because it was perfectly simple, just like her.

And it was this limbo, this teetering balance of complex simplicity that she was so comfortable in, that had drawn Adrian, like a moth to a flame, into her. It was this limbo that had allured him so intensely, so powerfully, that he could not bear to turn away. And it was in this limbo, Adrian knew, that he loved her, and that he would always love her. For he had become hers. And he knew this because his heart, his soul, and his livelihood had become clutched tightly in her grasp.

And while he watched her smile at him, her eyebrows finally uncreasing, he hoped that whatever god was out there would not be so cruel as to make her let go.

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[tropes-and-tales]

I am really loving all the prompts you’re reblogging!

Could I request from the rivals/enemies prompts number 2, cursing the other but secretly being worried about them with either Vigilante or Ray Merrimen?

Have a great weekend!

The original plan was apparently to use Peacemaker to assassinate the alien life-forms known as Butterflies, but when Vigilante shows up—and never leaves—Murn assigns you as his handler.

Vigilante hates having a handler.

“I’m not a baby, dude,” he scoffs at you.  He’s embarrassed by how you don’t trust him, how you stick close to him.  “I don’t need you to hover over me.”

“I’m not your dude,” you retort.  “And I absolutely do have to hover over you, or else you might kill a jaywalker.”

“Jaywalking is against the law.”

“It is,” you concede.  “But it’s not punishable by death, Adrian.”

He grumbles behind his mask.  “Debatable,” he replies under his breath, but you catch it and roll your eyes.  “And don’t call me Adrian in public.  People can’t know my super-secret identity.”

He sees you glance around.  The two of you are in the thick forest behind the rural estate of a suspected Butterfly.  He sees you roll your eyes again before you say, “yeah, I’d hate for a squirrel to find out the busboy from Fennel Fields is an unmitigated psycho.”

“Dude, what—” he starts to reply, confused, but you shush him and point towards the house the two of you are watching.  He turns in time to see a group of people walking single file into the house.

“Butterflies,” you both say at the same time.

-----

You lay out the plan, which is—by Adrian’s estimation—complete bullshit.

Which is why he totally ignores the plan and does his own thing:  instead of cutting the communication to the house and then incapacitating the Butterflies with flash grenades, Vigilante….just blows the shit up.  He breaks cover and sprints away from you, armed with the explosives he smuggled into the trunk of your car before the two of you drove here.

“Adrian, don’t!” you yell, and you try to chase after him but you’re slower than him.  You haven’t dedicated your life to chiseling your body into an instrument of vengeance like he has, so he outpaces you easily.  

Vigilante’s improvised plan is a success.  Mostly.  He takes out the Butterflies and manages to save a hard drive that may have vital information on it.

He kinda blows himself up, though.  When he tosses the final two explosives behind him to finish off the job, one bounces weird.  It bounces back towards him, and when he tries to kick it back, the force of the first explosion sets it off.

What a badass way to die, he thinks as he sails through the air, partially on fire and in pain everywhere.  

Then the world turns black.

-----

He wakes up in the passenger’s seat of your car.  He aches everywhere.  His ears are ringing.  Everything is blurry until he gropes at the hidden pocket in his suit and pulls out his glasses—slightly bent—and sets them on his face with a hiss of pain.

He turns his head and looks over at where you sit in the driver’s seat.  You’re hunched over the wheel, knuckles white as you speed back to Evergreen.  

“Stupid,” you spit out, and if Adrian was just a touch more socially aware, he’d realize that your voice is shaky from fear—not anger.

“Stupid,” you repeat.  “You’re so fucking stupid.  Stupid and erratic and…and impulsive.  You blew yourself up!  You could have died!  What in the fuck were you thinking, Adrian?”

He can’t articulate what he was thinking beyond Peacemaker’s mantra.  “There’s no wrong time to rock,” he replies.

You bunch one hand into a fist and punch the steering wheel.  The sudden violence startles him:  you are often irritated with him, but this is something more. 

“What the fuck does that mean?  No wrong time to rock?  Is that what that was, rocking?  Are we fighting a fucking alien invasion or are we at a fucking Whitesnake concert?”

“Whoa, dude, calm down.”  He holds up his hands like he’s trying to calm a rabid dog.  “Everything’s cool.”

“It’s not,” you snap, but you’re not yelling, at least.  “It’s very much not cool.”

-----

You don’t take him to the shitty headquarters in Evergreen, and you don’t take him to his place.  You take him to your place, and he’s not the best at reading other people, but he wisely holds his tongue.  The first half of the drive back, you yelled at him, your face contorted like a scary Dracula.  

The second half of the drive, you were deadly silent, and that was somehow worse.

Now he’s limping into your little house, biting back a groan with each step as he follows you inside.

“Sit down,” you tell him.  Your voice is soft again, tired.  You gesture to a kitchen chair.  “I’ll get the first aid kit.  Get you patched up.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” he starts, and he feels weird:  guilty and ashamed.  You look exhausted all of a sudden.  Dark hollows under your eyes, lower lip gnawed nearly bloody.  

“I do,” you interrupt, just as soft.  “You’re my responsibility.”

You disappear for a long moment, and when you return with the first aid kit, Adrian thinks your eyes look red.  Like you’ve been crying.  Which makes no sense, because you hate him and anyways, you’re the toughest girl he knows.  He doesn’t think you’ve ever cried before.

You get him a glass of water, hand it to him.  You open your first aid kit—far more elaborate than the usual household’s—and shake out a few different pills.  Antibiotics.  Pain pills.  You hand them to him too, urge him to take them.

Then you set to work on him.  You ease him out of his suit, out of his underclothes until he’s sitting in your kitchen in just his boxers.  Then you’re stitching him up, daubing at his injuries with antibiotic ointment.  Each new burn, each new cut makes you suck in a mouthful of air through your teeth, hissing with sympathy at the pain.

Adrian hurts all over, but a strange feeling creeps over him as you tend to his wounds.  Each pass of the antiseptic-soaked cotton over his skin, each prickle of the needle stitching him.  Each gentle press of your fingers as you feel along his body for broken bones or internal injuries….he is hurt, but your touch makes him feel weird.  Loose and relaxed.  Warm.

It must be the drugs, he thinks, but then a voice in the back of his head chides him, says you know it’s not the pain pills.  You know it’s her.

He sighs, and he leans forward in the chair to press his forehead against your side.  You freeze at the touch, then you move after a moment.  You lay a gentle hand on the crown of his head, and you sigh too.

He wants to say he’s sorry.  He wants to say that deep down, he just a scared boy playing at this cape shit.  He wants to say that he was often lonely before Peacemaker was released from prison, and that he’s terrified Project Butterfly will end and he’ll be left alone again.  He wants to say that he doesn’t need a handler but that he likes having you around, likes to pretend that it’s your choice and not your job.

He doesn’t say anything.  Adrian isn’t good with words or feelings, and he never seems to say the right thing.  He just sighs again and turns his face into the softness of your belly.

And maybe you want to say things too:  that you don’t hate him, that your frustration is borne from a burgeoning affection for him.  That you worry yourself sick that you’ll fail him and lose him.  That you’ve lost people you love before and how that loss has made you a closed-off person.

But you don’t say anything either.  You aren’t great with words or feelings either, and you usually choose silence instead of chancing people seeing your heart.  

So you just sigh again too, and you keep your hand on the top of his head, but you wind your other arm around his shoulders and just hold him.

#ask game #vigilante #vigilante imagine #vigilante x reader #adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase imagine #peacemaker #tropes and tales

[multifandomfanficss]

Stuck With You

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: When the team sticks their newest member with Vigilante, everyone feels bad for you, but you’re grateful to have him around when you run into something from your past and lose your cool.

Warnings: panic attacks, human experimentation, referenced child abuse

A/N: I found a couple lines of dialogue in my drafts that I never did anything with and I had the writing bug today so I decided to finally make something with it! I’ll crosspost it on my AO3 adriansglasses as well. Hope you enjoy!

“(L/N), you’re with Vigilante.” Harcourt says, at the beginning of the meeting.

“You’re really gonna stick the newest person with that psycho?” John asks.

“You don’t need to be mean to Adrian just because he’s not here.” Leota starts.

“I would say it to his face too. He’d probably just laugh and call me his 4th best friend.” John retorts.

You hadn’t been with the team for long. This was your first mission with them. After a mission gone too out of control, Waller sent you to the middle of nowhere Evergreen, Washington. You thought she’d sent you here because the environment would be less hectic, but the longer you’re there, the more you realize she probably sent you here because everyone on this team is either highly traumatized or in need of more experience. She was trying to put the training wheels back on. From what you’d been told by the team’s top conspiracy theorist, Christopher Smith, this team was originally supposed to be an expendable scapegoat, but they ended up saving the world. You had no idea what to believe at this point.

“What’s up with Vigilante?” You ask, wondering why this was all such a hot topic. You hadn’t known him for long. He seemed a little odd, but overall fine. If you were being honest you actually kind of liked him. He was sweet and funny, often without trying. There was this comforting air about him and you didn’t really know why. He was a good fighter and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he was at least a little bit cute.

“He’s a little…” Chris started moving his finger in a circular motion, trying to insinuate that Adrian was crazy.

“He can’t be that bad.” You smile.

Suddenly Adrian comes running into the old video store tripping over one of his shin guards that wasn’t on properly. He sits down and fastens it.

“Sorry I’m late, guys. They kept me late at the restaurant and then when I was trying to put on my suit in the car I accidentally ran a red light and usually I would kill somebody for that, but I mean I think the more important thing is that I didn’t run over the old lady crossing the street! She was totally fine and I know she’s alive because she screamed at me…I’ve never seen an old lady use to many swear words. It was kind of awesome! Anyway what did I miss?”

“You put on your suit while driving?” Leota asks.

“Yup.” He gives a straight face nod. Adrian often had a way about him, as if what he was thinking should be obvious to other people, when in fact, it was not obvious to most people most of the time.

“You amaze me.” Harcourt says, sarcastically.

“Thank you.” Adrian smiles, not catching her sarcasm.

She rolls her eyes, sighing.

———————————————————————

Later on that night you and Adrian found yourselves walking through a series of tunnels.

“John, I think we might be lost.” You spoke into your coms, hoping he can help you from the van.

“I can’t even hear you in my earpiece and I’m right next to you. I think we lost the signal.” Adrian walks in silence for a few seconds before adding, “I’m sorry you got stuck with me.” He looks at the ground, sad.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know they stuck you with me. Nobody ever really chooses to be my partner.” He lightly kicks a rock, pretending not to be bothered.

“They did pair us up, but that doesn’t mean I was disappointed.” You smile.

“Really? Why would you want me?”

“Well first of all, you’re a great fighter. You were also the first person to attempt to be my friend. I’d trust you in the field over anyone.”

“Really?” You can hear the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah.” You let out a soft giggle. “Why are you so surprised that I like you?”

“Usually everyone just tells me to shut up or fuck off.”

“Well I’m not everyone.” You nudge him playfully as you walk.

Soon you come upon a door. It’s a little rusted, but Adrian shoots the lock off and you’re able to break in.

“What is this place?” He asks.

As soon as you walk inside you see the tubes, the files, the devices, the tables, the symbols. You know exactly what this is. This is an old facility for the for the group that made you leave your old job, the mission that ruined your life. You see files on the table, files no doubt full of details on the children they were experimenting on. The group would take orphaned children or children who were abandoned and unwanted, kids who had no one to protect them, and they would experiment on them. They were human trials to try to find new ways of making superheroes. This must have been one of their old abandoned facilities. Despite the lab being inactive, just the sight of it was still enough to send you into a spiral.

Your heart starts beating rapidly as you grow dizzy. You look down at your shaking hands. You’re starting to lose control of your breathing.

“I- I can’t-“ You walk backwards out of the room, starting to hyperventilate.

“Woah. Hey, what’s going on? Are you having a panic attack?” Adrian slowly puts his hands out towards you. He’s a little unsure of what to do.

“I’ve seen this before!” Your entire world is spinning as your start to cry. You can’t stop thinking about the awful things you saw when you snuck into their active facility earlier this year. Those poor children. Part of you was starting to wonder if Waller put you on this team for a reason. You should have known better than to think she was giving you a break. Waller always had some sort of fucked up motive that only worked for herself hidden up her sleeve. “I can’t fucking breathe!” You sob, sucking in air.

“Tender nice touching.” Adrian slowly approached you, patting your shoulder. You needed pressure on your body. You felt like you were slipping away from earth and you needed to be held down.

“Can I have a hug?” You asked, quietly.

“You want a hug?” He asked, his voice just as quiet. He was speaking softly to not startle you further.

“Yeah…”

“I think I can do that.“ He smiles, slowly bringing you into his arms. A little loose at first, he tightened the hug as you melted into him.

“I’m sorry- I- I just…I know what the did here and- and-“ Adrian shushes you as you begin to stutter, your mind moving much faster than your mouth is able to.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Just breathe with me. Don’t focus on anything else, but your breathing okay? Can you feel me breathing?” He rubs your back as you cry into his arms. You nod. “Okay, good. Just…just follow that.” He sighs and then focuses on making his own breathing something you can follow.

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to know what people on the team want because I know Chris doesn’t wanna look weak and Harcourt would kill me if I touched her, so I try to be careful. I just don’t wanna upset you guys more, but if you want me hold you I can keep doing that. Just let me know what you need and I’ll do it.” He says, softly.

“Can you just keep talking?” You ask. The sound of his voice is soothing and grounding.

“You want me to keep talking?” He smiles. “You’re in luck. I’m actually really good at talking. So good, in fact, that people are constantly asking me to shut up. So uh… What can I talk about? Oh! I know. So I have this friend at work. His name is Taylor. Well, he says we’re not friends, but he texts me all time time asking me to help cover his shifts and I would only trust a friend enough to ask them for that, so I think we’re friends. Anyway, so Taylor walked in this morning and…”

The longer Adrian rambles on the better you feel. The pressure of his body on yours and his voice slowly bring you back to earth. Eventually you find yourselves walking back through the tunnels, hand in hand, retracing your steps as he guides you back to the van to regroup. He keeps you distracted with silly stories the entire walk back.

You don’t know what the rest of your team was talking about. Adrian was the best partner you could have had.

#adrian chase #fanfic #fanfiction #adrian chase x reader #peacemaker #freddie stroma #peacemaker hbo max #vigilante x reader #peacemaker fanfic #peacemaker fanfiction #peacemaker dc #vigilante dc #adrian chase fanfic #adrian chase x you #adrian chase oneshot #adrian chase fanfiction #adrian chase imagine #vigilante #vigilante imagine #vigilante fanfic #vigilante fanfiction #vigilante oneshot #vigilante x you

[honeycombstrawberry]

healing hearts

pairing: adrian chase x gn reader (established relationship) rating: gen+ word count: 2,688 one-sentence synopsis: adrian assumes the worst when he hasn't heard from you in a couple of days, even though you've only been home sick with the flu. author's note: i have been. so very sick. take care of me adrian chase

>> read on ao3!! <<

There’s an incessant pounding coming from— somewhere.

You’re not totally sure what the source of the noise is. Actually, you’re not even entirely sure that it’s not completely in your own head. It’s certainly hurt bad enough for the last— you lift your head to squint at the bleary numbers on your bedside clock— two days that you could be hearing a pounding by now, to reflect the pounding ache inside of it.

Checking the clock again, just to be sure, you verify— yeah, you’ve been asleep off and on for about two days, now. You don’t know what monster flu you caught, but it’s completely knocked the wind out of you.

You’ve had pretty much no energy since you got back home from work the other day and immediately crashed. The entire time you’d been on shift, you’d started feeling worse and worse; on the commute home, you’d nearly had to stop and vomit on the side of the road several times. It’d been a miracle you made it home in one piece at all, let alone managing to drag yourself into bed.

Since then, you’ve been alternating between struggling to get anything into your body, struggling to keep it there, and— sleeping, mostly. Lots of sleeping. It’s felt almost impossible to stay awake, your body continuously attempting to turn itself off to heal itself.

Your aching head is still throbbing in time with what you’ve determined is definitely an outside-source sort of knocking-pounding.

“Hello?” you try to ask, but your voice is scratchy with disuse and illness. Trying to clear it just hurts, so you give up, grimacing as you push yourself upright. You rasp, “Hold on,” but whoever’s knocking doesn’t hear you, or otherwise doesn’t care.

Your joints hurt like hell, but you manage to get yourself on your feet and moving in the direction of your front door. It definitely takes longer than it would normally; you’ve only made it to your bedroom doorway when you hear a bafflingly loud crash from down the hall, your head splitting with the sudden jarring noise of it.

Instinctively, you push the heels of your hands into your eyes, then drag them up until you can grip onto your hair, for a moment, head throbbing.

“Where are you?” you hear a voice down the hall, and you’re simultaneously relieved and incredibly confused that it’s Adrian. “What the fuck— What the fuck—”

“What?” you ask, your voice still cracking, leaning in your bedroom doorway.

Adrian whirls at the sound you make— barely a word, really, but loud enough to be heard this time, at least— and you’re not prepared for how upset he looks. The expression on his face is inexplicably devastated, agonized with the sort of emotion you don’t really expect to see outside of the direst of scenarios. Even, really— Even then, Adrian’s got a smile on his face, most of the time.

Not now, though. Now, he’s half-dressed in his Vigilante gear, and panicked, and running down the hallway towards you before you can even try to process that he’s here, let alone what the hell is happening right now.

Without hesitating, he wraps you right up in his arms, burying his face in your throat. His hold is tight, and your muscles all ache, but it almost feels good, in a pressure sort of way. The way it settles something inside your chest, too, isn’t something to be ignored; you feel a little bit better just for not being alone, just for having him here. You’re not— Your relationship isn’t serious serious, but you—

He still means a lot to you, more than you think anybody else in your life means to you, at this point. He’s still a source of comfort to you; he still makes you feel better. You hope your relationship will become more serious— maybe even serious serious— but it’s not there yet. But—

Still, here’s Adrian, gripping you so tightly it feels like your ribs move. You hug him back, even though you’re a little confused.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him. Your congestion and scratching throat make you slightly incoherent, but he still seems to understand what you’re saying.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asks. “What’s wr— I thought you were dead.”

“Why the f—” you start, but then start coughing, your voice too abruptly sharp and rough for your throat, right now. Adrian backs up a little bit, panicked, when you bring your arm up, covering your face as you cough and struggle to breath, for a moment. You nearly end up gagging, at the end, but there’s really nothing in your stomach, so you manage to straighten out again after a moment, dizzy and frowning.

“What’s wrong with you?” Adrian asks, quickly. “Something’s wrong. What happened? Did you get poisoned, is that what this is? Poison? Did someone hurt you? Did—”

“Adrian,” you cut him off, head throbbing. You immediately feel a surge of over-emotional guilt for interrupting him, your illness-addled brain bringing up too much unnecessary feeling in response. Almost tearfully, and embarrassed because of it, you say, “I’m sorry—”

“No, don’t apologize,” Adrian says. “I’m sorry, I should be— I should be quieter, sorry. What can I do? What’s wrong, what happened?”

“Nothing,” you tell him. At his incredulous expression, you tell him, “I’m just sick. It’ll pass.” You hesitate, thinking you’re going to sneeze, but it doesn’t happen, which is kind of worse. Frowning, now, you say, “I just feel like shit.”

Adrian pauses, looking like he wants to push back into you at the same time that he’s not sure he’s allowed to. After a beat, he asks, “Why didn’t you— I tried calling? You didn’t answer.”

You glance backwards into your room, at the bag that you’d dropped on the floor the second you got home. Your phone hadn’t ended up anywhere near its charger, nor your hand; you’d completely forgotten about it, honestly. It’s probably been dead for over a day by now.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, feeling genuinely apologetic, new guilt coursing through you. Your voice almost breaks when you say, “I didn’t mean to, I was just sleeping,” and you flash with an embarrassed heat because of it, forcing you to flush hotter than your fever’s already brought you.

“Oh, hey, it’s okay,” Adrian says. His face is crumpling, tone softening; you feel bad for being the reason it’s there, even if you’re not entirely sure why it’s here at all. “Don’t be upset, I’m not mad, I’m— I was just worried about you, and, like, you didn’t call or message or even, like, view my messages, and I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong but if I had I wanted to give you your space, but then nobody else heard from you and you haven’t posted anything and I was starting to panic a little bit that something happened, or someone took you, or they hurt you because of me, or that maybe you would—”

He cuts himself off, this time, chest heaving. He’s visibly agitated, practically vibrating in front of you, when he lifts his eyes to meet yours. You’re surprised to see the fear in them, and the hurt, because everything— everything is fine. It’s going to be alright; things like this happen. Really, it’s no big deal. People get sick. It’ll be fine.

Adrian, though—

Adrian didn’t know that.

Your chest clenches, your heart doing a strange sort of squeeze at the idea of not hearing from Adrian at all for two days, at the concept of him just dropping off the grid and not responding for no apparent reason. You’d—

In his line of work— or, his preferred line of work— you probably would have assumed the same thing. It hurts something in you, that his fear for you made him this terrified, that your absence rattled him this badly.

“I’m sorry,” he says, mistaking your silence. “I didn’t mean to talk so much again, you probably have a headache, and I’m—” He huffs a laugh that doesn’t sound all that amused, says, “I’m not making it any better, probably. Fuck, I’m sorry. Is there— Can I get you anything? Or I can just go— Actually, yeah, I should probably just g—”

“No,” you insist immediately. You reach out to grab onto him again, tilting right into him. Maybe your relationship isn’t serious serious, but it’s serious enough to be intimate; he wraps his arms around you in return without hesitating, kissing the side of your head. “I’m really sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” he replies. “You’re sick, I shouldn’t— I was being clingy, I didn’t want—”

“No, you’re not,” you tell him. You don’t mean to interrupt again, but you can’t let him think this was anything but what it actually is. “It’s not clingy to want to hear from me. I’d be scared if I didn’t hear from you, either.” You bury yourself in his chest, taking comfort from him. You’re starting to get more exhausted, the longer you stand upright, your joints and spine and muscles and— everything aching; you trust him to hold you upright, though. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to do that, I just kind of— fell asleep. And I haven’t been awake that much. I’m— That was stupid. I should’ve thought—”

“Hey, no, come on, don’t do that,” Adrian says. “Sorry, I just— It’s not your fault. You just— You’re sick, you’re allowed to be sick. It’s shitty. I’m not— I don’t— I shouldn’t assume, just because I’m not here doesn’t mean—”

He stops again; you can feel the tension in his body, muscles tight. His armor’s hanging off him in pieces; the rest of it, you assume, is in his car. You wonder what his intentions were if he hadn’t found you here— if he’d thought you were missing and went out searching for you as Vigilante. You’ll have to ask him about those plans, another day; you’re a little intrigued by the instinctive protective streak in him.

For now, though, you’re trying to figure out the tension in what he isn’t saying, not what he isn’t doing. You think over his words for only a second before you get it, all of it clicking into place, a puzzle that fits until it’s a picture you can understand.

“Maybe now’s not the best time,” you say, half-incoherent through your throat and sinuses and emotion and everything else, “but maybe we could think about living closer. Like— together.” His arms automatically tighten around you, his face coming down to bury in his hair. “If you wanted. When I’m feeling better.”

“I’ll move in right now if you want,” Adrian answers immediately. “I’ll— Are you sure? You sure you’re not, like, fucked up on cold medicine? Do you know what you’re saying? What year is—”

“Adrian,” you laugh, even though it makes your chest tight. You can’t help it; it just happens, even through your sickness. “Yeah, I’m sure.” You push your face closer into his shoulder. “It’ll make it easier next time one of us’s sick.”

“So much easier,” Adrian insists. Without missing a beat, he ducks down to scoop you up. It’s so effortless for him, it’s as though you weigh nothing at all; you’re standing, and then you’re airborne, swept up in his arms. “Plus, then we can, like, hang out. We can hang out all the time. And we can— We can watch TV together! And movies! And we can make dinner together, and learn to, like— I don’t know, we can have— hobbies, and go places on the weekend, and decorate together, and I can—” He sets you down in bed again, his monologue broken for a moment when he presses a kiss to your overheated forehead. “—Yikes, you’re hot— and we can get a dog, maybe, or something like a— I don’t know, something cool, like a— house horse or something— And I can see you all the time and I’ll wake up every morning and you’ll be here with me.”

Adrian collapses down in bed beside you, at the end of it all, and you automatically turn towards him, seeking his comfort. You feel cold, even though you know you’re warm; his skin is so nice against yours, and you push for more of it, shoving pieces of his uniform out of the side to get at more of his flesh, desperate for the comfort of him, to feel better.

“As long as you’re sure,” Adrian adds, at the end of it all.

“I’m sure,” you tell him, already halfway back to sleeping.

“Oh, man, I should probably, like— do something,” Adrian says. Before you can ask what he actually means by that, he says, “Do you want soup, or something? I can make chicken, or—”

“Stop,” you tell him, your weak stomach turning at the thought of eating something right now.

He sees the color drain from your face and pulls you back in to rest against him, your head on his chest, ear over his heart.

“Maybe later,” he allows. “I’ll get you some water, though, maybe? Or I can help you change your clothes, or get you comfy. Want me to plug in your phone? Or bring you to the living room, and then you can watch the TV in there if you wanted, or if you wanted to take a shower, maybe, or a bath—” He stops himself, then. After a beat where he seems to think so loudly you can hear the gears turning in his head, he asks, “What do you want, though?”

You’re already most of the way back into what you want, right now. Half-asleep, you tell him, “I just wanna rest a little while,” muffled by his chest. You yawn, jaw cracking, the soft material of his undershirt shifting beneath your face as you do. “I want you.” Tightening your fingers around him, you ask, “Would you—”

“Yes, yeah, obviously,” Adrian answers, before your question is even finished. “I’ll be right here. Whole time, not going anywhere.” He kisses the top of your head. “You get some sleep. Your body needs it, you rest. I’ll keep an eye out for you. On you. Keep an eye on you.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, exhausted. You can feel some stirring sort of excitement in the back of your chest, something that’ll probably come into full bloom once you’re healthy and coherent and awake enough to process that the two of you are going to be moving in together. “Can I have a hug?”

Adrian huffs an amused little laugh that sounds so impossibly fond that you want to melt inside of it. You can’t help loving him, hearing the love in his voice.

“Of course you can,” he says. He tugs you in tighter, arms wrapping closer around you, holding you near to his chest. “How’s that? That better?”

It’s so nice. It’s so nice, and so comforting, and you feel so much better— in your heart, and mind, and soul, if not in your body— and you can’t help the next words falling out of your mouth. It feels like he loves you, and you know that you love him, so you murmur, “Lots better. Thanks. Love you.”

Beneath your ear, Adrian’s heart starts speeding up impossibly quickly, faster and faster, thudding harder and harder. You’re already falling back asleep; you’re not coherent enough to realize what’s happening, or even what you’ve said to him.

“What?” he asks, but you’re completely unconscious again. Your head on his chest, eyes closed, breath evening out though it rasps through your tight chest and throat.

Belatedly, he realizes you’ve fallen asleep. He doesn’t know if you know what you’ve said, or if you mean it, but— it feels like you do. It does. And he realizes, then, the words that match the feelings he’s been feeling this entire time: he loves you, too.

You’re fast asleep, and you don’t hear him, but he says, voice half-hushed, grinning, “I love you, too,” and tightens his grip on you, kissing the top of your head again, keeping you held close.

-

adrian chase taglist, pt. 1

@deputyrook @bb-skyrunner @himboelover @pieriinova @gcldtom @violetrainbow412-blog @amysuemc @saturnngal @neptuneswritingwork @jewishdelis @myguiltypleasures21 @pinkygunslingy @chaseadrian @breathing-in-waves @rishlurh @goblynnrockz @theowritesstuff @themartiansdaughter @dallasvakarian @missscarlettangel @samantha24015 @hillaryroadheadcllinton @ohmybubbletea @buckys-estrella @witchywcmans @ladyrebel25 @eviejune @vigilantesluvr @qjuiq-odakyu @xothatnerdykid @awkwardfangirl2014 @thevalkyrior @mattsmanpain @sunflowerfive @deirdre-belle @anthonyedwinstark @sexysquatch @jelliebeanss @zofps @crimscnrains

#adrian chase #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase taglist #vigilante imagine #vigilante x reader #vigilante #vigilante taglist #dcu taglist #dcu #hbo peacemaker #peacemaker tv #peacemaker imagines #peacemaker x reader #peacemaker #dc taglist #dceu #dc #dc comics #reader #reader insert #gn reader #gender neutral reader #honeycombstrawberry

[vlkyriesgf]

gen asking for maybe a small fic or hcs about vigilante/adrian meeting someone with wings and he falls for them HEHE

vigilante/adrian chase + winged partner headcanons

a/n: i had too much fun with these headcanons and i missed writing for a freddie character so ofc this comeback starts with everyone’s favorite vigilante! everyone say ty to ky!!

warnings: mention of injury clean up but nothing major!

• when adrian- or vigilante meets you for the first time, he’s starstruck

• he obviously has never met anyone with wings besides eagly so he has tons of questions

• of course he’s skeptical of you at first though, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up so he thinks they’re fake, man-made.

• mission after mission he sees you in action and thinks you’re totally awesome

• by the time his identity is revealed, his first questions to you were “are they heavy? are they even real?”

• “uhm yeah they’re real alright” you tell him, expanding them a bit for show “they’re pretty light actually”

• if they’re veined/bug like wings, he’d most likely want to know if they have any tint in the light or he wave his hand between them to see how transparent they are

• if they’re feathered wings he would definitely want to know how soft they are, you tell him they are to avoid that from happening

• adrian always tries to touch them it does not matter if they’re feathered or not. it’s his top priority to do so

• every time you see each other he has a different plan to at least graze his fingers on them

• he fails every. single. time and it’s hilarious to you

• one day he asks you if you can take him in the air with you for the mission and oh man is he pumped for the rest of the time

• because of that, adrian would absolutely rather have you take him places by air than use his “vigilante-mobile”

• be prepared to hear him loudly sing “come fly with me” while you’re up there

• that song is literally the only thing that comes to his head when he thinks of you

• nah wait he’s thinking of you. he practically dedicated a song to u dude

• ok fine he likes-likes you but that’s not something he needs for his crime fighting life

• but he did end up cutting big enough holes in your jacket to put your wings through so they aren’t tucked in there

• post white dragon fight he was a bloodied mess

• you fix him up at the vet and he’s just in awe that someone as amazing as you is making time for him

• as soon as your wings shield around him in that moment he’s practically jelly

• that sort of became a comfort thing for him honestly

• in all, he thinks you’re much cooler than him and he perfectly okay that

• he didn’t find himself falling for someone with wings but with or without you’re still going to be in his head

#nats novels #oh dear neptune #adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x you #adrian chase imagine #vigilante #vigilante x reader #vigilante x you #vigilante imagine #freddie stroma #freddie stroma x reader

[tinalbion]

A  R E A L  H E R O | s e v e n

You move to Evergreen for a fresh start, you’ve inherited your grandparents’ place, and then you meet the sweetest guy. But there’s a duality to him, something a bit darker. Then you meet Vigilante, a killer anti-hero who just looks out for the safety of Evergreen, but the dangerous side of him appeals to you more than you care to admit.

》MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT《

Pairing: Vigilante x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit; smut; vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), angst, brief mention of Vij being tortured, trust issues, is he keeping secrets? 

Length: 6.7k

p a r t  7  |  s t i l l  h e r e

A/N: I KNOW it’s been forever but I’ve never forgotten about him I promise you, this will continue! <3 Please, as always, let me hear your thoughts!

The people at work had been more challenging to deal with since you spent so much time trying your best to hide your injuries with caked-on makeup, and you had never been asked so many questions in your life nor did you really have answers that anyone really found to be satisfactory. They assumed you weren’t telling them the entire story, and that’s just how it was sometimes when it came to people you worked with; overly nosey just because their lives hadn’t been as interesting as yours. You heard all of the disgusting rumors and obviously not-so-quiet whispers of you moving away and being whisked away by a budding romance only to have it all turn sour as your new boyfriend was an obvious woman beater. You wished they had more creative minds, and yet you were thankful they didn’t initially assume you were stuck in the middle of a romance with a cape of all things. 

Fuck, you hated it here sometimes. 

As you continued your work day, you brushed aside everyone giving you all of that fake pity as they asked you if they could do anything to help you, or just the absolutely pathetic lines delivered by poor old Bradley. He tried, you’d give him that, but it made you cringe to even hear him attempt his usual shtick. You ignored him and tried your best to ignore his attempts, but at the end of the day, you made the brisk walk back to your car as you reached into your pocket, your fingers gripped around the object that made you feel slightly more at ease. But even underneath the fear you felt walking alone, your mind immediately went to Adrian. 

How was he doing, was he holding up okay? You had become more wrapped up and worried for his well-being ever since connecting the dots, but you trusted him to keep his usual lifestyle without making much change. He'd lasted this long without you, he didn't need you to survive and that wouldn't change now, you were the only thing that may have changed his outlook on being more careful with his identity, but it would be some getting used to for you both. 

You drove back to your newly acquired place back in Evergreen, picking up some food on the way since you were too exhausted and had no desire to cook a thing. You bobbed your head to the music as you pulled into the driveway of your place, and you felt a sense of comfort as you walked up to the door and happily unlocked it. It was a long time since you felt at peace like this when you walked through your door, so you needed to enjoy it while you could, but for now, you needed food and quickly. 

As you sat on your sofa, freshly washed from your shower as you held the bowl of food up to your face as you stared intently at the television, your phone buzzed beside your leg several times. You peeked over at the screen and saw that your friend from your old town had messaged you after weeks of no contact, her texts seemed as if nothing happened and all was well between the both of you. Of course, you felt that you should respond to see how she was, but the number of times you reached out to her and got ignored was too many times to count. You felt as if she was upset that you moved, but whatever the reason, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to see what she wanted. 

With one hand, you swiped open the screen and began your conversation, but another message came through from Adrian, a normal occurrence after you’d gotten home from work.

Hey, you get home okay? I totally spaced out since I was working on a new campaign for D&D. Adrian :) 

You smirked and replied back quickly, letting him know you were doing okay, then you asked about his day and the campaign he had going on but then were met with silence for a bit. 

It didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary, you both respected each other's time apart and loved that you could easily rely on Adrian to respect those boundaries, it made you lean back against the cushions and smile. You hated how warm and fuzzy he made you feel so quickly, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t like it either. Sure, it had come with unexpected baggage, but what kind of person would you be if you denied that part of him? He was perfect in every sense of the word, and you cared a great deal for him. 

When you sent off another text to him, you told him that you had to sleep for work soon but you were going to think about him tonight before bed, then sent a few of the emojis he liked to use in every conversation. You laughed to yourself and sighed as you clicked back on the text your friend sent, you wondered how you’d reply to it as you sat there and mulled it over for a few more minutes until you decided to go on a small tangent before hitting send, You didn’t think about it much after that and decided to head to bed. 

You slid in between the covers and nestled comfortably into the pillows and looked at your phone one more time, you saw nothing from Adrian and something in your chest ached. ‘Don’t get bent out of shape, he’s probably busy, there are things he could be doing, calm down.’ There was no reason to worry about anything, you were just overthinking and just needed to rest, relax your mind, and focus on anything but being one of those clingy girlfriends. Oh boy, that was a thought you didn’t expect, you were someone’s girlfriend, even after you swore that you didn’t need anything serious after moving into a new place, you needed to get things in order and settle in before doing something so stupid so quickly. Yet it happened and everything unraveled so quickly, the quickness of how everything happened had caught you so off guard that you hadn’t even thought of it in terms of how other people would view it. How would that sound when you told the story of how you met? 

You surprised yourself with a laugh and shook your head. Who gave a damn what other people thought? This was for you and Adrian, this didn’t involve others, and you decided that was the best option. While you lay there and tried to rest your mind, your eyes fluttered closed and tried your best to drift off, but it was almost impossible. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the shifting of your lattice wall panel outside of your window, nor did you hear the sound of your rooftop creaking slightly under the pressure of someone's footsteps. You stretched your arms out as your eyes began to feel a bit heavier, yawning and oscitant, you released a yawn and tried to allow your body to fall into a state of comfort. Well, you tried anyway, until you heard the sound of your window opening slowly. Your entire body froze for a split second, but as soon as you confirmed that it was your window you heard moving, you instinctively reached for the baseball bat that leaned against the wall and lept out of bed. 

There was no time to turn on your lights nor was there much light being let in to begin with, and all you could see was a hulking silhouette. “Get the FUCK out of my room, you fucking–”

“Wait! It’s me! Shit!” Adrian’s voice sounded out in your room and it caused you to freeze and drop the bat. 

“Adrian Chase, you absolute fucking– GAH!” You reached over to flip the lamp on and saw him with one leg still hanging out the window, his hair disheveled, and glasses askew. You took a deep breath and groaned. “You almost gave me a heart attack, Adrian, what the hell! You can’t just crawl into my room without so much as a warning, I’ve been kidnapped you know! That sorta triggers someone to be on the defensive!”

He turned around to close your window and turned back to look at you, the gears turning in his head. “Oh, man, you’re right, I didn’t even think about that… Shit, I’m sorry.” He held out his arms and gave you a crooked grin, one that almost looked like he was being more mischievous than apologetic. 

Your heart rate slowed down and you shook your head, you walked over to him and scoffed as you clung to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “You fuckin’ goof, I coulda clocked you with a bat.”

“I’ve had some pretty bad hits, don’t worry about me,” he replied coolly. And you didn’t doubt that. 

When you pulled away, you looked at him and smiled, knowing you couldn’t really be too mad at him, just a little though. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He was wearing a shit-eating grin. “Well, I was out, you know, doing some super cool stuff,” —a top secret way to say he was beating the hell out of someone tonight– “and after I got back, I just thought, how cool would it be to climb up the side of my girlfriend's house and surprise her with how romantic I am? Like how in that one movie where the guy climbs through that girl’s window, well, you get the point.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm, the look on his face was too pure. “Adrian, that’s actually really sweet, but I gotta sleep for work tomorrow morning. As much as I’d love to spend more time with you…” 

His eyes widened and his features lit up. “What if I just lay with you? Nothing sexual,” he held up his hands as soon as he saw you make a face, “just wanna sleep next to you. Sound okay?” 

Your lips pursed and you thought about it, and you had agreed in your head almost immediately, but the look on his face when you didn’t respond immediately was too priceless, so you decided to tease him a bit more. You brought your hand to your chin, tapping it in thought while you paced back and forth, and it didn’t last long until Adrian groaned and threw up his hands.

“Oh come on, babe," he huffed, “did you wanna?” His voice almost sounded like he was pleading, so, so close to begging. 

With a growing smile, you walked back up to him and grabbed both of his hands, then you pulled him toward your bed. “I suppose when you ask so nicely, I guess I could let it slide. Kick your shoes off anywhere.”

Adrian did as he was told and placed his shoes off to the side of the bed and kicked his jeans off, leaving him in his underwear and his tee shirt, then he placed his glasses on the bedside table while he slid in beside you and enveloped you in his arms. When you laid back against him, your head rested on his chest and you heard his heartbeat, so you closed your eyes and just listened to it. Neither of you said anything for a bit, the serenity of just existing with each other after everything you’d been through was a level of acceptance you didn’t know you needed until tonight.

“Thanks for this, Adrian,” you said softly as your hand continued to caress his arm mindlessly. 

He moved his head a little and made a little hum. “For what?”

“Coming over, just doing this, being here.”

Adrian smiled and gave you a gentle squeeze as if to say he was there for you always, and it made you laugh a little. “Thanks for not bludgeoning me to death with your bat and letting me stay over,” he replied. “Very nice of you to let me keep my knees.”

You snorted and sighed. “It’s a pleasure. But seriously, this is nice. I missed you today, was a little worried when I kept texting you, figured I scared you off.”

He snorted and sighed. "That's not gonna scare me away, try harder than that. Well, actually, don't do that? I kinda don't want to–"

"Shut up, Adrian," you laughed. 

As he lay there, Adrian had known this would affect you both, but he hoped you didn't see any of this as being too overbearing. Did you live your life, go to work, and worry about him constantly, or did you worry about your lack of safety and wanted to change your mind? Why would you want to go through that constantly, wouldn’t that become tiring for you? Would that drive you over the edge and make you push yourself away from him? He remembered that you both made the choice, you were incredibly clear on that, but there was always that little nagging voice in the back of his head that made him rethink these choices. You had wanted to be with him, you said it yourself, that was all the proof he needed. 

A small breathy laugh followed. “I missed you, too. I just didn’t wanna bother you when you got home from work, wanted you to relax, enjoy it, ya know?”

“I get that, I appreciate that, too. Just gotta get used to the odd hours you keep sometimes, that’s all.” You nuzzled your body closer into the crevice between his arm and his chest, and you had found the perfect spot in his embrace, and it didn’t take long for you to start feeling that pull into unconsciousness. “Tell me about your day.”

Adrian moved his head to where his cheek was resting on you, and he began to recount his day to you. “Well, work wasn’t too exciting like always, but it went by quickly, so I figured since I was still feeling up to it, I had wanted to see if I could get another campaign set up for us to play if you ever wanted to try again, then I wanted to patrol for a bit. Needed to get out some energy. But all I could think about was you, weird how that is now. All I could think about was getting joy from making Evergreen safe, but now that’s not my only priority. Now I get why the whole secret identity thing is such a big deal, it–”

He stopped talking as he listened to you, the light and steady sound of your breath was the only thing he could hear. You had fallen asleep in his arms as he spoke to you, so he figured he could tell you a story about one of his heroic tales from his game, but he had only gotten a little into the story until he let out a yawn. Within moments, you both lay quiescent in the darkness of your room, and it was a brief blissful peace you could enjoy while it lasted. 

*

It had been a solid six months of dating Adrian and it was a whirlwind of emotions, but every day you swore you'd never change a thing about the relationship you guys had. There hadn't been anything as exciting as your kidnapping that you had been a part of, but you were thankful for it. Adrian had begun to come over more often, you had gone over to his place, and he had even met some of your coworkers at one point when he kindly offered to drive you to and from work when your car was in the shop. Everything had felt right. 

And it had stayed that way for a while until someone from his old life came back and changed everything. 

Adrian was working a shift at Fennel Fields while you were at home doing some last-minute touch-ups around the house. It was getting to be later in the year, and even though it was still quite warm, the colder weather would be coming soon, so you had made sure everything on the outside of the windows would hold during the winter months. 

This meant you were too busy to get the exciting barrage of text messages from him, excitedly telling you that he saw an old friend back in town that he thought would be locked up for another twenty-six years, but he was there in the restaurant. When he spoke about Peacemaker, immediately your mind went to the question of why this person was in prison for the past four years but figured since he was friends with Vigilante, it made sense. Maybe he wasn't as safe about his identity as Vij was, so you chalked it up to that for the time being. 

‘Okay, calm down! We can talk more about it if you want after your shift. I can make your favorite to eat ♡’ After you hit send on the message, you waited until he texted back, which was almost instantly. 

Adrian agreed to your offer and went back to his shift. So you finished your work outside and began getting some food ready. 

By the time it was done and you were washed up, Adrian was walking into your place with a large smile. He shuffled into the kitchen as he saw you grabbing two plates from the cabinet and wrapped his arms around you from behind. 

"Hey," he greeted sweetly as he kissed your cheek. 

"Hey babes, how was the rest of your shift?"

"Holy shit, Y/N, it was the most surprising day I've had in a long time! My best friend Chris was there in full uniform and everything with some group of people I've never seen, but he was out of prison, which I hadn't expected at all."

"Oh Chris, you've mentioned his name before, Peacemaker, yeah?"

"Yeah! Peacemaker himself! I'm so fucking stoked I got my best friend back! Only thing is, well…" his words trailed off as he looked down in thought. 

"What is it, Adrian?" You brushed his hair away from his face. 

"Well, he doesn't know my identity, I want to keep myself safe and he doesn't know me personally, just as Vigilante."

“Oh, that's not too much of an issue, maybe try to hang out with him as Vij, at least. Maybe he needs his friend right now, someone familiar.” You smiled and continued to fix up your plates, but he still seemed to be on edge. 

You had learned not to force Adrian to talk about things he didn’t want to or didn’t know how to really converse about, but he would get there on his own like he always did. So you walked around the kitchen island and set everything up, but he refused to move from where he rested on the counter, his mind spinning with so many thoughts. 

And he knew that you were right; Chris probably needed a friend when he got back home and Adrian could totally provide that! Only thing was, what were friends supposed to do in situations like these? He had never gotten incredibly personal with Peacemaker, it was always 'go after the bad guys and do what needs to be done, shoot up the appliances afterward'. Either way, he figured he’d head home and get all gussied up as Vigilante to pay his friend a visit when he could, but right now, you were right here in front of him looking absolutely perfect in your outfit. How hadn’t he noticed it before? Adrian was curious if you wore it for him, but what fun was it to focus on that when he could easily focus on getting you out of it? 

He walked beside you and grabbed the cup from your hand and set it aside, then he turned you to face him while he slid his knee between your legs, spreading you open quite easily. Your eyes widened but you didn’t dare stop him when he had that look in his eyes, it was familiar and one you’d grown accustomed to after all the time you spent together. You could read him well enough and you pride yourself on that, especially since you’d been told that he wasn’t always the most predictable kid, nor was he the most liked. 

You reached your hand up to place on the back of his neck while he pushed himself forward, he couldn't help but hover over you as you leaned back uncomfortably against the counter, but you wouldn't complain about it. His eyes stared down at you over the frames of his glasses, making you feel restless under his gaze. 

"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" You asked sheepishly, curious to see where he’d take this. 

Adrian only smiled as he nuzzled his face against the side of your neck, his nose and lips gently brushed against your exposed throat while his hand slid on the other side of your neck, and the sounds you let out were melodious to him. You were getting so worked up with something as simple as this and it was almost pathetic with how wet you felt already, but could you blame yourself when his hand was so close to your throat?

“Do you trust me?” A quiet whisper beside your ear.

“Yes,” you breathed quickly. 

He was almost taken aback by how quickly you answered, but it shouldn’t have surprised him, he knew you’d do just about anything for him. “Good.” His mouth lowered onto your skin and began to kiss you along your jaw while his hand easily slipped in through the front of your pants, his fingers found the hem of your underwear and slipped beneath them quickly. Your back arched as soon as you felt the tip of his finger glide across your clit, and your eyes widened while your hand grabbed his shoulder in desperation. 

“Fuck, Adrian,” you gasped as you sucked in a breath of air. His fingers worked you like magic while he continued to bury his face against you, kissing you everywhere he could. 

When he got to the neck of your shirt, he immediately lifted it out of the way and began to grope you through your bra while he nipped and licked at your breasts. Pawing at you like he was in heat, it was an incredible feeling. It felt almost rushed as if he needed to be inside of you before he exploded, so you attempted to help him by reaching for the buttons of your pants, but he moved quickly and snatched your wrists, he pushed them against the counter, and he held them there while his mouth went back to licking your nipples that poked out from the top of your bra. 

Your legs shifted as you tried to ignore the building feeling between your legs, the amount of wetness that you could feel cling to your inner thighs made you feel like you needed to get out of your pants immediately.

“Baby, c’mon, let me take them off,” you begged, your skin already feeling flushed and hot as he continued to use his mouth. He didn’t respond just yet, instead, he bit your nipple ever so slightly. “Adrian!” you gasped out. 

He smiled as he pulled back and sunk to his knees, his eyes still staring up at you intently while his hands got to work and began to get rid of your pants, then he stopped when you stood there in your half taken off shirt, pulled down bra, and your soaked underwear. 

“You look so beautiful like this,” he exhaled in awe. He saw the look on your face as he complimented you, catching you off guard while he rested on his knees for you. He loved being like this, worshipping you as much as he could if you let him, he knew the pain of waiting all too well, all he wanted to do was take you and claim you when he could. Taking his time though? Worshipping your body with every inch? He fucking craved it, much like he did now. 

His fingers pushed aside your underwear and he tested you again, slowly slipping a single finger inside you. Your leg moved to welcome him in deeper, your head hung back, and you sighed heavily with the simple touch. He would start slowly and slide in one or two fingers at a time, watching as your juices coated his hand and the entirety of your thighs, watching it drip down with intense interest. It pained you how slow he was going but you’d loved it too, the intensity as it built up in the pit of your stomach sent you into a frenzy. When he pushed that third finger inside of you, your legs were getting weaker, your legs wobbled and almost gave out beneath you, but he was there to catch you with one hand still knuckles deep inside of you. 

“Ooh, seems like someone needs to lay down, can’t handle it?”

“I ca-can handle it, I just need to– ahh fuck!”

His pace picked up for several fast pumps, and you were thrown off as your mind went blank, you couldn’t think of what you were about to say. Of course, he continued as if he’d done nothing, his eyes stared up and watched your expressions shift with each thrust inside of you. 

“Come on,” he said suddenly as he stood, then removed his fingers from your aching core and sucked them off. “Wanna go somewhere comfortable?”

You didn’t respond to him in words, you grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him along with you as you walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, his laughter and yours filled the room while the food sat untouched on the countertop of the kitchen island, but neither of you could have cared less. You pushed him onto the sofa and watched as he leaned back with his legs spread for you, he looked so good like this, laying there as he looked up at you expectantly, wondering what your plan was next. Your hands made it to his jeans, fumbling with them to get them off, then you pulled his shirt over his head, though both of you struggled momentarily while his glasses fell off to the side. You smiled as you pulled him into a kiss, your tongue pushed past his lips to swirl against his, and your hand reached back to grasp him through his underwear. You slowly moved your hand up and down his shaft, the feeling of the fabric not as bothersome as could be expected, but he really wanted to feel your mouth on him instead. But of course, you smirked down at him while you continued to take your sweet time.

Adrian groaned as he throbbed in your grasp, wanting to feel the warmth of your hand on his skin. "Is this payback for me teasing you in the kitchen?" He chuckled as he bucked his hips upward into your hand. 

"Possibly," you grinned and squeezed his cock gently. He let out a sigh that made you even want to blush. 

But what you didn't anticipate was for Adrian to suddenly force his body to slide down off of the sofa to where he sat on the floor with his head still resting on the cushion, his hands easily keeping your thighs in place, your dripping sex hovering just above his face. He was quick and maneuvered easily, he was so strong to hold you so still as he didn't allow you to move, but you looked almost horrified as he held you there. 

"Adrian Chase, what are you doing?!" You gasped. Your underwear was still on but you knew that wouldn't stop him. 

"I'm gonna try something a little different, is that okay?"

You nodded and watched in wonder as you tried to keep your composure. When he allowed your weight to sink down, you panicked a little, never having sat on anyone's face before. 

"Adrian, are you sure?" You asked nervously. 

He didn't even give you a response with words, he practically tore at the side of your underwear to move it aside as you hovered closer to his mouth, so he just went for it. His mouth was on you and his tongue had felt so deeply pushed inside of you, his hot breath on your already soaked folds made your eyes close as your head lolled back, enjoying each moment. 

It was hard to remain upright as he placed several sweet kisses along your inner thighs, but what really got you to twitch in his grasp was the kiss and the quick swipe of his tongue against your swollen clit, the feeling of having it throbbing while it rested on his tongue before he kissed you again was so overpowering it almost sent you forward. You had to lean forward to grab onto something, anything, so your fingers latched onto the edge of the sofa though it wasn't all that steady, it was something to ground you and to keep you from falling anywhere. 

His mouth, as always, worked like magic on you and once he began to stroke circles over your clit with the pad of his thumb, well it was all over for you. It didn't take long to get that intense feeling in the pit of your stomach, your hands holding onto the sofa for dear life as you tried your best not to squeeze his head between your thighs from the sheer pleasure you were experiencing. 

"Fuck, Adrian, I can't– oh my god, I can't hold– ahh!" Your eyes squeezed shut and you clawed into the cushions while you came onto Adrian's eager tongue, the rocking of your hips slowed, yet his hands never released their grip on you. He continued to clean up any wetness that spilled from your inner thighs, the sensitivity now making you want to jolt in laughter while you still attempted to catch your breath. 

"Christ, I can barely move…" you sighed as you leaned forward, your weight was supported beneath still while you leaned against the back of the couch. "You're amazing."

Adrian shuffled a little and suddenly you had been lifted upward as he slipped back onto the couch, you hung on for dear life, but it was over in an instant. "I've been told that and I never get tired of hearing it," he smirked while he wiped his chin off. "So you can keep going if you wanna." 

You snorted and collapsed onto his chest to breathe a moment. "Yeah, sure, I'll always be there to inflate your ego a little further just so I can see you float off into the distance."

You both shared a moment of laughter as you both lay there for a moment, Adrian allowed you to get your breathing under control until he shifted beside you, and your eyes immediately glanced over to him. That smile he wore always made you feel as if there was nothing to worry about in the world, and the way he looked at you spoke legions of the time you’d spent with him. You couldn’t believe how deep you’d fallen for this guy in the time you’d known him, but you wouldn’t change a thing even if someone offered you all the money in the world.

*

It had been a few days since your last encounter with Adrian, and he hadn’t really texted as much as you expected him to, which wasn’t the end of the world, but it was still strange nonetheless. You had gone to work and did your usual routine, but whenever you’d checked your phone, there had been no response. Maybe he was just caught up in some Vigilante business and you definitely wouldn’t get in the middle of that, so you continued on and tried to not let the radio silence get to you.

But how could you NOT let it get to you? He was always so vocal about having you check in with him ever since the kidnapping incident that you just found it to be second nature, so when he hadn’t responded to you in a couple of days, you pushed the worry down deep within and stewed on it. 

By the end of day four, you were at wit's end and even slightly more terrified than usual to go outside at night on your own, which seemed almost ridiculous to think about. Just because he wasn't responding didn't mean the worst happened, but if something DID, what did that mean for you? 

You walked back to your sofa and plopped down onto it, a drink in one hand with the remote in the other, your gaze fixated on the screen before you. You had stopped checking your phone after day three, you had figured something came up and left it at that, you wouldn't worry about too much if he was maybe trying to save his own identity, you had come up with so many scenarios that all of them just sort of stuck in your head at once. You sipped at the beverage and wallowed, it was what you did best in times like these. 

It wasn't until you had been dozing off that your body jerked up in response to a sound coming from your front door, a heavy and frantic pounding. You gasped and jumped to your feet, your hands reached for the first thing that you could swing at someone, which unfortunately was one of your long floor torch lamps. At least it was cheap and easily replaceable. 

The knocks came again and you heard muffled talking, a familiar voice, and you took a deep breath and released a sigh. "Adrian," you breathed. 

You swung the door open and saw a blonde woman sitting in her car, watching as Adrian stood there at your doorstep, looking absolutely pathetic as he stared at you with sadness in his eyes. The car took off and you watched in silence, then you looked back at the man before you, unable to piece together what the hell had happened. 

"Adrian, what–"

"Can I come in? Please?"

You sighed and stepped aside and set the lamp down once you shut and relocked the door, but you almost wanted to scream at Adrian for keeping you so worried, yet you didn't and easily kept your cool. But when he walked through the door and into the living room, you couldn't help but notice a small limp he suddenly had. 

"Adrian," you gasped with all anger set aside, "are you okay? What happened?" You were at his side almost immediately as you slipped your arm around his waist to allow him to take some weight off his foot. 

Adrian looked away from you and didn’t even want to bring his gaze to meet yours as you walked him to the bathroom, where you had him sit on the chair you had in the corner, a little corner set up just for emergencies like this. You didn’t push him for anything else after that, you just grabbed the first aid kit you purchased with him in mind, then slowly removed his shoe. As he winced and bit back a loud yelp, you took it slower and placed the shoe off to the side. 

When you saw the damage, it wasn’t entirely terrible, but how the hell did he have this sort of wound to his pinky toe? You were desperate for answers but even now, after six months, you’d never press him, though he could easily tell how pissed you were.

“Look, babe…” He sighed and still couldn’t bring himself to look at you fully without wanting to look away. “I was on a mission, shit went south really quickly and I got out, that’s it.”

“Adrian, I didn’t hear from you in four days, and I don’t mind that we don’t see each other, but hearing from you to make sure you’re okay IS important. I was scared something happened to you!” You poured a bit of rubbing alcohol on the wound and Adrian groaned as he shifted in his seat, but you ignored him and began to gently pat at the skin around it with a washcloth. 

He pushed up his glasses and looked down at you as you continued to help him, your hands always gentle as you took care of him. It didn’t really dawn on him that messaging you was important, he figured you’d understand that he was busy, but hearing how worried you’d been over him had made him feel guilty. Was this how it was going to be with someone, someone who actually cared, leaving them behind and worried sick? He hated that feeling, he never really thought about it so in depth until now, he got that knowing him could have put you in danger, but he never really thought of the emotional aspect, why would he? 

“You’re right,” he breathed, “I’m sorry. It was shitty of me, but I wanted you to be safe, I couldn’t contact you because I– fuck.”

That’s when you finally looked up at him and realized just how haggard he truly looked. The red-shot eyes mixed with how dark they’d been underneath, he hadn’t slept well in a few days, tops. “Adrian, what’s going on?” Your voice was soft and for a moment, he almost poured his heart out to you because of the face you gave him, but he stopped.

“I can’t say…” was all he replied with. 

He looked ashamed, but you felt more hurt knowing that he possibly couldn’t trust you. “Is it because of your identity?”

Adrian sat there and thought about it for a moment, and couldn’t really rule that out entirely. “Sort of, but there’s more to it. I would LOVE to tell you, honest, they just said I couldn’t…”

You let out a sigh and nodded, knowing very well that pushing this would get you nowhere nor would it do any good for either of you. "Just tell me one thing," you sighed. 

"Yeah?"

"Tell me you'll be careful, I really don't want anything to happen to you."

Adrian sighed and looked down at you again once you sat back on your knees, his foot now properly bandaged and his shoe had been placed off to the side. You stood up and held out your hand for him, he took it and tested out walking on the floor. He smiled as he looked up at you with a grin, and you wished you could return it with the same enthusiasm as he offered, but with a sigh, you had tried your best and offered him a grin. 

"Can you try not to almost lose a toe the next time you go out?"

Adrian nodded quietly and wasn't sure how to continue the conversation after all of this, so he walked over to the doorway and leaned against it to keep the weight off of his foot. 

"So uh, if you're okay with it, could I stay here with you? I understand if you don't want me to, I just uh, I don't wanna be alone…" Adrian had a difficult time admitting this, but you were the only other one who truly saw him in such a vulnerable state. 

You didn't want him to think that you would turn him away, you could never, so you offered a small smile and opened your arms to welcome him. "You know me, I wouldn't ever not want you to stay over, Adi. Come on, I’ll get you something to eat, you hungry?” You grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Adrian gave a sigh of relief and followed you out of the bathroom and leaned a little onto your side. “Thanks for everything, babe.”

You felt that usual warm and fuzzy feeling you usually got with him being around. “Of course,” you replied with a smile, but deep down, you felt uneasy.

Not about him, but about everything going on with Adrian, and you wondered if it was just a passing feeling. You chuckled to yourself and disregarded the thought, and it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. You figured everything would be fine. 

Tag List (if you’d like to either be added or removed, please let me know!):

@juniebugg​ @vlkyriesgf​ @chipster-21​ @stinkytootsies @fanofverymanythings​ @myguiltypleasures21​ @wandasleftshoe​ @ventihotdogwater @cressida-clearwood​ @bbwithaknife​ @wtfobiwan​ @chaseadrian​ @glytchfic​ @oceannerdd​ @tubble-wubble​ @charmed-asylum​ @sunflowerfive​ @enter-username-blank​ @weirdpurppleunicorn @likeficsinthewnd​ 

#tinalbion writings #adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x you #adrian chase imagine #Vigilante #vigilante x reader #vigilante x you #vigilante fanfic #vigilante imagine #peacemaker #peacemaker show #vigilante peacemaker #adrian chase x female reader #vigilante x female reader

[7-wonders]

m a s t e r l i s t

Adrian hates horror movies

Every Time We Touch–Adrian’s not a fan of having people touch him. The more that he gets to know you, the more that he warms up to the idea of people, namely you, crossing that boundary.

(Or, Five times you touched Adrian Chase and he realized he might not be touch-averse, and one time where he said “fuck it” and touched you first.)

Right Where You Want Me–You probably should have told Adrian that you know how to shoot a gun the second that he revealed he was going to teach you. But you can’t deny that having Vigilante with his arms wrapped around you to help you hold the gun is tantalizing.

The 11th Street Kids Go Undercover–On a mission to stop the formula for creating metahumans from falling into the hands of Lexcorp, you and Adrian are paired up. A fake date with the guy that you have a crush on is surely just another day at the office.

The Betrayal–You find out the truth about what happened to your brother, Rick Flag, at the worst possible time.

The Good Kind of Butterflies–Adrian realizes he has a crush on you. He doesn’t take it well.

Unexpected Guests–Adrian tries to keep his work life separate from his personal life. Until one day when his work life literally shows up at his front door.

Who Helps the Helpers?–When you come down with a nasty cold, help comes to you in the most unlikely of forms. Though it’s not who you were expecting, you certainly can’t say it’s unwelcome.

Find headcanons and other musings under the Adrian Chase x Reader and Vigilante x Reader tags!

Click me!

Kiss of Fire–You only want what’s best for Jim, and that includes staying clean of drugs. Jim, who’s been bottling up his true feelings for so long, finally snaps after he finds out you flushed his stash. 

Half of My Heart–Jim was supposed to be better now. After his psychotic break, you and Medina had made sure that it was impossible for him to slip back into his old habits. But the morning comes, and so does the realization that he’s been lying to both of you. 

A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes–Life has never been the kindest to you, and you've come to expect only the worst from it. But when a golden-eyed stranger shows up at your place of work and promises you that all your dreams will come true if you just trust them, how are you to say no? Get ready—a ball in the Dreaming awaits.

Christmas Traditions

Fatherhood–You're a single parent, and you (and your daughter) meet Morpheus

Give Me Everything You've Got–After a fight, you learn that Morpheus does not have the best coping skills. Like, at all.

Hopes, Dreams, and Everything In Between–Just when Morpheus finally escapes capture at the hands of the Burgess lineage and begins to make his way back to his realm, his weak connection to his power disappears completely. Left stranded in a world with no knowledge of what has transpired for over a century, no powers, and no clothes, Dream of the Endless must let down his guard and place his trust in a human whose path he was quite literally dropped in the middle of.

Jealousy, Jealousy–It's your turn to get jealous.

Kiss With a Fist–Normally, Dream is above mortals and their petty quarrels, but when one decides that he wants to play with fire, Dream is more than prepared to burn him. That is, until you have something to say about it.

Morpheus Does Not Understand Millennial/Gen-Z Humor

Morpheus gets jealous

Of Jack-o'-Lanterns and Misperceptions–You carve pumpkins with two of Dream's sisters in the Dreaming!

Our Very Own Greek Tragedy Pt. 1 | Pt. 2–You love Morpheus, and Morpheus loves you. You're the happiest that you've ever been in your life, and your love's intention to propose to you is just the icing on top of the cake.

Too bad you don't remember any of this when you wake up.

Shopping Spree–You go shopping and have a little fashion show for Morpheus.

Sick Day–You're sick, and the absolute last thing that you want is for an overprotective King of Dreams to find out. Of course, you should know by now that it's impossible to keep anything from Morpheus, and when it comes to you, there's nothing that he won't do to make sure that you're safe and well.

The Mixup–Matthew goes sticking his beak in places it shouldn't be, and finds what he believes to be some shocking news.

The Nightmare–Your daughter has a nightmare, and Morpheus is the one to soothe her.

To the world we dream about (and the one we live in now)–Being in the right place at the right time turns everything you thought you knew on its head when a woman, imprisoned and battered, is literally thrown into your life. Left with no choice but to do the obvious, you offer her shelter and support in her time of need.

Unbeknownst to you, said woman is a powerful and ancient being who now belongs to you in accordance with the old laws. This situation definitely won’t become complicated, right?

You get your period

You're extremely stressed out

Find headcanons and other musings under the Dream of the Endless x Reader and Morpheus x Reader tags!

Truth or Dare–A oneshot of Xavier being dared to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, and you’re the one that the group chooses to go with him.

Still Lovin’ You–You’re smoking weed with Xavier in the back of the infamous Vanta-C when things get a little steamy.

Shot Through the Heart–Being a ghost, you could handle. Your boyfriend killing people? Not so much.

Welcome Home (Sanitarium)–After two years, Xavier returns to the spot where he nearly lost his life…and where you did.

Cum On Feel the Noize–Xavier has ideas on how to spice up your boring shift.

Click me!

Captured with Sith!Anakin

I'll Follow You (Into the Dark)–You’re forced to team up with Darth Vader to escape from Hondo Ohnaka and his gang. Needing shelter for your weary selves after making it to civilization, you book the last room at an inn. There’s just one problem—there’s only one bed.

Just the Two of Us–Anakin finally returns to you, and neither of you can wait for a better time or place to truly reunite.

Rebel finds out Sith!Anakin hates sand

The Force and Its Tragedies–Joining the Rebel Alliance was always going to be a risk to your life and safety. But never did you think that you would end up in the clutches of the evil that you have been fighting to take down. And never did you think that you would reveal your biggest secret to said evil.

masterlist updated 7/18/2023

#masterlist #michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagine #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd imagine #jim mason #jim mason imagine #xavier plympton #xavier plympton imagine #adrian chase #adrian chase imagine #vigilante #vigilante imagine #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless #the sandman #the sandman imagine

[tiannasfanfic]

Closer: Part 1

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader (Smut)

Summary: While wrapping up a successful mission, you end up getting exposed to a mysterious, powdery substance that starts to make you feel...very strange. (Crossposted to AO3)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only

Author Note: Afab reader. This is a sex pollen fic, so consent is dubious. I tried to address the dubious consent issues within the story itself to make everything as consensual as possible. I may have combined several different tropes to make this happen, so hopefully they all flow well together. Inspired by a discussion on @officerbrowneyes blog about Adrian helping a Reader that came to him for help after breathing in sex pollen.

CW: Smut! This first chapter mainly just builds the story, so it's tame with light smut. Light smut includes masturbation (afab), discussing sex, Reader is the only one exposed to the sex pollen, Reader is very horny after exposure.

Word Count: 3,670

It finally happened. After ten years in black ops, and eight months of living in Evergreen, you finally got your That Mission.

Everyone in ARGUS had a That Mission. It varied from person to person on what exactly That Mission was, but it usually involved something outrageously stupid that may or may not have led to severe injury.

The mission itself had gone so well, too. Peacemaker, Vigilante, and you had cleared the small office complex of butterflies. It went smoothly and cleanly. Then John and Leota came in to help you search the office computers for any intel.

You didn’t have a designated position on the team. Technically, you could do all of them. You could easily fill in for any one of them on a temporary basis, you just weren’t as good as your teammates that only had one or two specializations. You had some field experience, some office experience, and some IT experience. You even had basic triage training, such as minor battlefield wound care. This gave you the ability to add “some medical experience” onto your massive list of partially known skills.

In other words, you weren’t good enough at anything to get on the bigger, grander missions, but you weren’t a big enough dumbass to get stuck with the shit jobs. You were perfectly okay with this. The world needed people like you just as much as they needed superheroes, doctors, and bad asses like Harcourt. You could step in whenever you were needed, however you were needed and could keep things afloat until the more skilled person came back. That was a skill in itself. Plus, it kept you out of trouble, which is a tricky thing to stay out of in this line of work.

Sadly, there had been no way to prevent what happened to you. It was completely unexpected and unplanned for.

The search of the offices had been going smoothly and cleanly right up until the end. The keycard you had been using had belonged to the head of security and worked just fine on all the other doors. It shouldn’t have triggered any alarms unless there was some sort of backup security system that wasn’t in the schematics. John and Leota had gone over the security blueprints with a fine-tooth comb to ensure something like this didn’t happen.

In hindsight, it was highly doubtful that it was a backup security system. It was more like the door had been booby-trapped or you were the unintended recipient of a practical joke dating back to a time before butterflies had infested the building. It was very distinct possibility that no one had used this office since then. It was fairly out of the way and small.

Whichever the case may be, backup security system, booby-trap or practical joke, the result was the same. As soon as you opened the door and stepped into the office, you were sprayed in the face by an aerosol spray deployed from somewhere in the wall. It felt powdery rather than wet, and a fine powder at that. It tickled your nose, making you cough and sneeze and involuntarily breathing a lung full of the stuff.

Stepping back into the hallway, you called out over the coms what happened. Harcourt ordered everyone but you back to the van, where she equipped John, Leota and Adrian (who insisted on going with them) with respirators before sending them to your location. By the time they reached you, any trace of what blasted you in the face had dissipated and they were unable to collect samples of the substance itself. The dispenser in the wall was so well hidden, they couldn’t even find it. But all they had to do was take one look at you to know something bad had happened.

By the time they got to you, you were starting to experience the effects of whatever the powder was. You were leaning against the wall across from the office, your legs feeling very weak. You had taken your jacket off and had a sheen of sweat on your face. You felt like you were running a low-grade fever. Adrian helped you back to the van while John and Leota finished with the office. Every step you took made you feel a little bit warmer, both on the outside and the inside. By the time you sat down, the beginnings of an ache radiated out through your body from between your legs.

You were very quiet on the drive back. You found yourself clenching your thighs together and gritting your teeth with every bump in the road. Each one sent a jolt straight up into your center, making you bite you lip. You waved off everyone’s concerns, including Adrian’s inquiry about him staying with you to keep an eye on you. Before they dropped you off at home, Harcourt had John draw blood samples to send to ARGUS for analysis and ordered you to stay home and monitor your symptoms until she heard back from them.

That was over two days ago. Harcourt still hadn’t heard back. You were more miserable than ever.

Those feelings had steadily built until you were barely able to move from your bed. You were barely sleeping and eating. And it was all due to the fact you were so extremely horny you were in a terrible amount of pain. Being horny was supposed to be fun. And, you did have to admit, it was a little fun at first. You enjoyed yourself on a fairly regular basis and knew how to make yourself cum like an expert, but the number of times you had gotten yourself off in the last two days was absurd even for you. For a while, it seemed to help. After you made yourself cum, you’d feel better. It always came back, but it was something, at least. And the harder you came, the bigger of a break you got.

Now though? No matter what you did, no matter how you got off, coming wasn’t working anymore. Nothing worked. Then again, you were so tired you really couldn’t put much effort into it. You finally gave up on trying hours ago.

You were curled up on your bed, naked, and drenched in sweat when someone started knocking on your front door.

You ignored it. They persisted.

You kept ignoring it and it finally stopped.

A short time later, you got a string of text messages, but you at least you recognized who it was. Anytime Adrian texted you, your phone would scream “HEY LISTEN” in the voice of an oddly endearing little fairy from a video game. That’s what made you finally glance at your phone

It’s me! I’m at your front door!

Open up!

I brought you food!

It took you a minute to get your reply typed, your hands were shaking so much even autocorrect almost couldn’t keep up with you even on a simple five-word text.

“Okay. Give me a few.”

You managed to pull on a loose t shirt and shorts, then slowly make your way to the door to let him in.

“You don’t look good at all,” Adrian said as soon as you got the door open, his brow furrowing in concern. He was holding a takeout bag from Fennel Fields.

“I feel like hammered shit,” you said, figuring that was close enough to the truth.

You stepped aside to let him in, careful not to let your thighs rub together. When that happened earlier during a bathroom trip, it resulted in some interesting noises coming from you. The last thing you needed right now was to let loose a carnal moan in front of Adrian Chase.

That was almost for naught, however, when he walked past you and suddenly the air was filled with his smell. You bit down on your bottom lip to keep quiet. His normal soap, cologne, and deodorant; dish soap and cooking grease from the Fennel Fields shirt he was wearing; and also, the vaguest hint of gun powder and oil if you know what you were smelling for. It was a smell that was so uniquely him, you’d know it without seeing him.

A fresh wave of heat flared through your body. You choked back a noise that threatened to rise in your throat. It suddenly felt like you had gotten punched in the stomach and between you legs at the same time. Staggering backwards, you leaned against the wall and then slid down it to sit on the floor.

“…worried, so I volunteered to check on you and bring you food,” Adrian was saying as he headed for your kitchen without a backwards glance, assuming you were following. “I got you what you always order, nothing fancy.”

He disappeared into the kitchen. You heard the refrigerator open and close, then a minute later, he poked his head back around the corner with a look of confusion on his face. When he saw you on the floor, he immediately rushed over and took to one knee next to you.

“Are you okay?” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“I - no?” you said it like a question, then shook your head to try to clear it. You felt electricity where he was touching you. “I-I don’t know. I’ve f-felt terrible, and weird, and off ever since the other day.”

Adrian helped you to your feet and got you over to the couch, where he helped you lay down.

It took everything you had not to pull him down on top of you. The way he touched you, the feeling of his hands on your arms, gave you another jab of pain, though not in your stomach this time. It was all down lower.

“Do you know what that stuff was yet?” he asked, perching next to you on the edge of the couch cushions as you shook your head. He felt your forehead with the back of his hand and looked even more worried. “Shit, you’re burning up.”

“No fever though,” you said. “I checked.”

From your bedroom, you heard your phone start ringing. You didn’t pay attention to it, focusing on stopping yourself from whimpering when he moved his hand away from you.

“That’s really weird,” he said, his brow furrowing more, then looked sad. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

Then Adrian’s hand rested lightly on your bare knee, right under the hem of your shorts. The feeling of his skin directly on yours made your thighs clench, sending a jolt of pleasure up through your core. You let out a loud moan before you were able to stop yourself. Adrian jumped away from you so fast he tripped in the process. He landed on the floor next to the couch, right on his ass.

Your phone went quiet in the bedroom as you both stared at each other in shock. Then it started back up again.

“S-sorry,” you said, swallowing heavily and averting your gaze. Your face was bright red.

“Er…I- Uh. It’s okay? I think?” Adrian said, also swallowing heavily, eyes wide. Unlike you, he kept staring at you and you could feel his gaze as if it were boring holes into you.

Great, you thought to yourself. Now you made it weird.

While you’d had a thing for Adrian for as long as you’d known him, you knew it was unrequited. You knew he didn’t feel the same way. A couple of months after your transfer, you had made several attempts at flirting with him. And you had made it obvious, since you knew by then that he didn’t read signals and subtleties very well. Adrian had ignored them as if they hadn’t happened. While it was sad, you were glad he hadn’t made the rejection awkward. You’d rather pretend it never happened than lose the friendship. You treasured his presence in your life, even as just a friend and coworker.

But, regardless of that, the fantasy scenarios you had pictured a time or six in your head where he had you moaning under his touch had gone NOTHING like this. And why did you even moan just now, anyway? Adrian has touched your bare knee before and that has certainly never happened.

“I-I think…” you swallowed heavily, heart hammering in your chest. You took a deep breath and tried again. “I think that shit is seriously fucking with me.”

Your phone stopped ringing, then after a few seconds started up again.

“Fucking with you?” Adrian’s brow furrowed again. “How? Damnit, I knew we should’ve taken you to the hospital!”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think they can help. I feel hot, but no fever. And I’m sick to my stomach, kind of. And I’m -“

You stopped and shut your mouth. Even just the thought of saying it, and saying it to him of all people, made the heat between your legs worse.

“But what?” he scooted closer to the couch, leaning against it with his elbow.

You heard your phone stop ringing.

“I-I’m not quite sure how to say it,” you said after a moment.

“I find it best to just say it,” Adrian said, shrugging. “Whatever needs to be said, I just say it.”

Easier said than done when the thing you needed to say was explain to him how horny you are. It couldn’t be a coincidence that all of this started after you were sprayed. It had to be some sort of poison or pheromone that had a counter agent. But you needed to tell him first so he could call Harcourt for you and see if she’d heard of anything like this before.

“Um,” you said hesitantly, licking your lips. “Well, i-it’s very weird…but I’m really…extremely…ho-“

I’m a Barbie Girl in a Barbie World, wrapped in plastic, it’s fantastic!

Adrian fished his phone out of his pocket, and you swallowed heavily. A little bit of relief washed over you since that was about to get really, extremely awkward.

“Hey Harcourt! What’s-“ Adrian stopped. “I’m still at her place, actually.” He paused, then looked directly at you. “No, not okay at all.” Another pause. “Okay, hang on.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the screen.

“Alrighty, you’re on speaker.”

“Y/N,” Harcourt said. “Bad news. Your test results came back. The spray was a concentrated aerosol powder made of coitus microspores.”

“The fuck is that?” you said, blinking in confusion.

“Concen- what?” Adrian said, sharing your confusion.

“Sex pollen. You were dosed with a sex pollen.”

You and Adrian exchanged very confused looks.

“What’s that?” you both asked at the same time.

Harcourt sighed deeply, as if she suddenly remembered the two people she was talking to.

“It ramps up your sex drive well above your normal level,” Harcourt explained. “It’s said to be quite a painful experience, especially if it’s not relieved right away. This long after your exposure, it must be excruciating.”

“Can confirm,” you said, sighing. “What do I need to do?”

“The only known way to fix it is by having sex,” Harcourt said. “I know you aren’t seeing anyone, but do you have a fuck buddy or even just a friend that wouldn’t mind doing you a solid this one time?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Adrian’s head snap up to look at you.

“No on both counts,” you sighed. For the first time in your life, you felt like you were at a disadvantage for not having anyone like that in your life. “And I know getting myself off won’t work. I already tried that. A lot.”

Adrian made a weird noise and you glanced up at him. He was staring at you with wide eyes, red cheeks, and a slack jaw.

“Sorry,” you muttered to him half-heartedly.

Adrian’s mouth snapped shut and he looked back down at the phone. Once you had looked away from him, you could see him shift his legs around where he still sat on the floor.

“Nope, it won’t,” Harcourt confirmed. “You will need to find someone to fuck you.”

A strangled sort of sound came out of Adrian then, but this time you didn’t look up. You were thinking.

“Shit,” you said finally, sighing. “I don’t think I can drive like this, so I guess I could have Adrian run me to one of the bars down the street.”

“Might be your best option,” Harcourt agreed. “You’ll have your pick of random horn dogs to take home and fuck, just don’t-“

“No!” Adrian suddenly exclaimed in a sharp, authoritative tone.

You looked up at Adrian, and he gulped, staring at you with a shocked expression, his face bright red, like he had surprised himself too.

“If you have a better idea, Chase,” Harcourt said after a moment. “Then we’re all ears.”

Adrian gulped again, turning an even brighter shade of red. He glanced between you and the phone several times, before finally just staring at the phone.

“I can do it,” he stated confidently, despite how sheepish he looked.

Your mouth dropped open in surprise, your heart hammering.

Harcourt, on the other hand, was having none of this.

“Chase, this is not the fucking time to be thinking with your dick!”

“I am not thinking with my dick!” Adrian exclaimed. “And that saying makes zero sense anyway because it is impossible to think with your dick. It doesn’t have a brain. But anyway. It’s the only option we have that involves the least amount of risk for all parties, especially for Y/N.”

You were very confused by this, but suddenly found yourself unable to speak. You had desperately been trying not to think about fucking Adrian, but now that he was the one who said it, all bets were off in your brain.

“Go on,” Harcourt finally said, her tone a tolerant one, which meant she was seriously listening.

“First of all, she is in no condition to go anywhere, much less a bar,” Adrian stated, then he started looking you over. There was nothing sexual about it, it was an assessing look, as if he were scanning you for injuries. “Trust me, anyone in their right mind would take one look at her and immediately call an ambulance. Fuck, I’m half tempted to myself.”

You thought about it for a second, or tried to, then gave up. You couldn’t stop watching his lips as he spoke.

“He’s right,” you managed to croak out.

“Secondly, say Y/N did find someone to fuck, be it a friend or a stranger, it’s not exactly like she can tell them she got sex pollened on a black ops mission,” Adrian continued. “So, they wouldn’t be able to give full, informed consent, which is bad since she could hurt them or, even worse, they could hurt her.”

“That’s…actually a really good point,” Harcourt said, sounding very surprised.

“And furthermore,” Adrian continued. “Y/N herself is in an extremely vulnerable state. This doesn’t sound much different than a fucking date rape drug, so any consent she gives right now is dubious as all fucking hell. If having sex is really the only way to fix this, then it should be with someone she knows and trusts that also knows exactly what’s going on. If at any point Y/N tells me to stop, I will, no questions asked.”

Adrian had raised his gaze to meet yours as he said that last sentence, his eyes soft and reassuring.

You severely wanted him. No question. And not just anyone at this point. HIM. Somehow, everything he just said had made him even hotter. But, at the same time, you were unsure still.

“Wh-what if it’s a-awkward?” you said, swallowing heavily. “Like…afterwards…at work?”

Adrian thought about it for a few seconds.

“Have you ever had a one-night stand?”

You shook your head, staring at his lips again.

“Okay, um, gimme a minute,” he said.

Adrian got quiet, a thoughtful look on his face. He looked up towards the ceiling and reached one hand up to scratch his chin as he thought. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand. Were his fingers always so long and nimble looking? And were they always that thick? Probably, since people’s fingers don’t just suddenly change. But what has been seen can’t be unseen. The heat between your legs was painful.

“Oh! I know!” Adrian exclaimed, snapping you out of your thoughts. Your gaze went back to his face right as he looked back at you. “Chris and I have had a threesome together, and things aren’t awkward with us. So, I don’t see why me fucking you should be awkward either. We don’t have to let it be.”

You had heard these stories before, so this wasn’t anything new you were finding out about. Hell, Chris had even called you a couple of weeks ago, saying they were bored and asked if you wanted to come over to have one with them. While you had turned him down, Adrian was absolutely right. There was no awkwardness or tension between him and Chris, in either their friendship or work relationship. And it wasn’t awkward with you and Chris after that phone call either.

“Okay,” you said softly, almost whispering.

The pain was already worse just in this brief time period. The ache had turned into a steady throbbing. You needed something to happen soon. Needed him soon.

“I really didn’t need to know any of that,” Harcourt muttered, like she was talking to herself, then cleared her throat. “All right sounds like a plan. I got the results directly, so no one else needs to know about this. Y/N, take the rest of the week off and report in on Monday. I’ll think of an excuse you can tell the team and I’ll go ahead and put you both in for overtime. Good luck.”

Three beeps signaled Harcourt ended the call.

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