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training4theapocalypse · 6 months

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Tiny Stitches (Adrian Chase x gn!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT, Graphic injury detail, Handjob

Summary: Your Halloween plans are cancelled last minute. You’re ready for a night alone eating Halloween candy until Vigilante comes to your door needing stitched up.

A/N: Based on this ask by @impossibleheartflower - thank you! No pronouns are used but the reader is wearing a slutty nurse outfit. It’s pretty nondescript (e.g. no specific mention of skirt or pants) so the slutty nurse outfit can be whatever you want it to be. Maybe the real slutty nurse outfit is the friends we made along the way.

Masterlist

Chapter text

You dip your hand in your bubble bath to test the temperature - it’s not exactly going to make up for the fact that your Halloween date flaked at the last second but you know you’ll feel better when you take off this ridiculous costume and sink into the bubbles.

You hear a distant knock from your front door and turn off the tap.

It’s sort of late for trick-or-treaters. Right? Maybe your apartment is the last stop for the kids who live in your building. You don’t want to end up on a register somewhere so you pull on a robe over your sexy nurse costume.

“Coming!” You rush out of the bathroom to unchain your front door.

You let out a gasp of shock when you open it. Thud. A man’s body falls backwards into your apartment.

“What the fuck?!”

Is he… dead?

Dread fills you as your eyes ping over every part of his figure, looking for signs of life. But it’s hard to tell when he’s dressed in a black and teal Halloween costume with his face completely concealed by a mask.

Almost completely.

His eyes are just visible behind the red visor on his mask. He blinks up at you. He blinks. He’s alive.

The man dressed up as the masked Vigilante of Evergreen groans. “It’s me... Sorry.”

That voice is familiar. “Who- ?”

Vigilante stares up at you standing over him. He knows he’s got more pressing matters to worry about than being offended that you don’t recognise his voice but he can’t help it. He’d know your voice anywhere. Hell, he even recognises the way your keys jingle in the hallway when you get home from work.

“I’m your neighbour… from across the hall.” He clutches his side with one hand so he can rip off his mask with the other.

Oh.

‘Hot guy’ is the stupid thought that pops into your head when you stare at his upside-down face lying across your doorway. You realise who he is now after all, under his Halloween costume, with his dark, curly hair and sharp jaw - all that’s missing is his glasses. You’re not even sure of his name - you’ve been so used to referring to him as ‘Hot Guy Across The Hall’ in your friends’ group chat for months that you’re more accustomed to calling him that in your head.

‘Hot Guy Across The Hall took a package in for me today.’

‘I bet you’d like to take a package from Hot Guy Across The Hall.’

You snap out of it when you see a trickle of blood drip onto your floor. You look at the gloved hand clutching his side - he’s holding a wound on his abdomen. A dark puddle of blood leaks through the fabric, staining the white parts of his gloves crimson. A new terror sets in as you realise he’s been attacked.

“Please, I need a nurse.”

“This…” You look down at your red and white polyester outfit and the plastic stethoscope around your neck that’s visible underneath your open robe. “This is a Halloween costume.”

“I know that. I’ve seen you in scrubs.”

“I’m a vet.”

“Uh, thank you for your service?”

“A veterinarian.” You stick your head out the door and look up and down the hallway, worried about anyone stumbling upon the bloody scene. “Get in here.” You slip off your robe so you can move freely, then bend down and drag Hot Guy Across The Hall by his underarms into your apartment, sliding him across your wooden floor and shutting the door behind him. Fuck, he's heavier than he looks.

Shit, what was his name?

“Aidan, right?”

“Close enough.” He groans, staring up at your ceiling.

“Can you get up if I help you?”

“Mhm,” he winces in affirmation and you bend down to put his arm around his shoulder. He inhales sharply, holding onto his side as you help him across your small apartment into your bedroom. You’re glad your apartment is clean. Not that you’d admit out loud that you’d tidied it specifically just in case your date had gone well tonight.

You help him onto your fresh bedspread. The blood is definitely going to stain your new sheets. Perfect.

“Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” you say, tossing the plastic stethoscope aside and sitting beside him on the edge of the bed so you can assess the wound. “Wait, is your costume a onesie?”

“No,” he groans. “I just need to take off the belt-” He swears when he removes his hand from his side to unfasten his gunbelt. A jolt of adrenaline courses through you when you realise that attached to him are real guns.

“Okay, let me do that. You just keep applying pressure.” You firmly move his hands from his belt to his wound. The sound of metal on metal clicks in your silent bedroom when you gently unthread the belt from the loops. “There we go, you’re doing great,” you soothe as you place the belt and his gun on the floor and roll up the top half of his suit. Your fingers tremble slightly when you realise the fabric under them isn’t cheap polyester. It’s thick. Lined with what you expect is Kevlar. This is no bargain bin Halloween costume.

Oh shit.

There’s a long but shallow knife wound running down his ribs. It doesn’t look like there’s any damage to his vital organs. But it’s gruesome. “I’ll get my car keys - I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“Wait!” He tries to sit up but yelps in pain and lies back again.

“Please, I can’t go there… Too many questions.”

It confirms your suspicions.

“You’re not dressed up for Halloween.” It’s not a question but you look up to see his response all the same. You’ve been so focused on his injury that you haven’t noticed the way his green eyes have been searching your face. He slowly shakes his head and looks at you beseechingly. Ugh. You can’t say no to those pretty eyes. It’s why you ended up becoming a vet - you just can’t resist the stupid, puppy-dog eyes.

“I don’t have any anaesthetic. This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep that sentiment in mind when you’re screaming in a second.”

You leave him and boil some water while you busy yourself finding your medical supplies and a bottle of vodka. You set up your things on the bedside table while you sit on a throw pillow on the floor next to the bed.

“God, this is always the worst bit.” He says, squinting at you dipping the gauze in the boiled water, getting ready to clean out the wound.

“Don’t you normally wear glasses?”

“They’re in my pocket.”

You reach into his pocket and carefully place them on his face. “Better?” He nods. “Or maybe you don’t wanna see this?”

“Aren’t you gonna clean it out with vodka first?” He asks as your hand hovers over his wound, holding the gauze.

“Hell no - that’s only in the movies. Alcohol can damage your tissue. This is for us.” You open the bottle with one hand, take a quick swig and shudder before handing him the bottle.

“Shouldn’t you be sober for this?”

“Hey, the dogs never complain when I turn up to work drunk.”

“They don’t?”

Your face cracks into a smile as you take in the sincerity of his look. “A joke. I’m joking.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He takes a long gulp of vodka, screws up his face and passes it back to you.

You clean his wound and he clenches his fists, breathing heavily.

“So, you said you’ve done this before?” You ask, trying to distract him.

“Yeah,” he says through gritted teeth.

You scan his toned lower abdomen and spot a gruesome-looking scar just under his navel. “Oof, I can tell. That looks like shit.”

“Hey-” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale when you give the wound one last wipe.

You thread the sterilised needle. “You ready?”

“Wait.” He extends his arm towards the vodka and you pass it to him so he can take another drink. He shakes his head. “Ready.”

“I’ll be quick. I promise.”

He groans when the needle breaks his skin. “So, what’s your name? If it’s not Aidan.” If you keep him talking, you can take his mind off the pain. Keep him conscious.

“It’s Adrian.”

“How about that? I was close.”

“I know yours. I get your packages sometimes.” He says your full name and address as if reciting a poem.

“Well remembered,” you say, furrowing your brow in concentration as you make the next stitch. He grabs your shoulder instinctively.

“Sorry,” he whimpers.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good.”

His grip tightens at that.

“Anyway, how come you’re home more than me? You always get my packages. Doesn’t doing all this keep you busy?”

“I work nights. Mostly. Evenings too at my other job.”

“You’re a waiter, right? I’ve seen your uniform.”

“Busboy.”

“That’s cool,” you jabber on, focusing on keeping him distracted. “Must be a pretty convincing secret identity.”

“Right?!” He perks up at your compliment, extremely pleased that you think his secret identity is a good one.

“Bussing tables in the evenings then committing murder at night?”

“It’s not murder.” He grimaces again. The grip on your shoulder is now vice-like. “It’s holding people accountable.”

“Sure, sure…” you say. You feel strangely calm. It’s as if the shy, awkward dude on your bed is just cosplaying as Vigilante. Even though you’re currently stitching up his fresh wound from whatever the fuck it is he’s been up to tonight.

“...You’re not gonna, like, tell anyone, right?” You feel his eyes studying your face as you continue stitching him up.

“That depends. What are you gonna do for me?”

For some reason, his cheeks turn crimson and he blinks rapidly behind his glasses.

“Uh, like what?” he blusters.

“Does your job have any perks?

“Uh… Do you need me to kill someone?”

“No!” And despite the absurdity of the question, you laugh. “I meant like free pink lemonade for life in exchange for stitching you up.”

“Ohhhh, right. I dunno. I might get asked a lot of questions if I give you free drinks.”

“More questions than you’d get at the hospital if I took you there instead?”

“Uh, no, probably not.” He chews his lower lip seriously and it makes you feel bad for teasing him in his sorry state.

“I’m kidding, dude. My lips are sealed.”

The fact he’s Vigilante doesn’t scare you in the way you know it should. You know you should absolutely phone the police. But you kind of enjoy sharing this. A dirty little secret between the two of you.

“Pink lemonade is overhyped,” he says after a few beats.

“Is is not! It’s like the best kind of lemonade.”

“It is - ow! Sorry! Okay, sorry for saying it’s overhyped! Pink lemonade is great. Jesus.”

“That wasn’t on purpose - sorry. It’s just the last stitch… Keep holding onto my shoulder if you want?” Before you even finish the suggestion, his blood-stained gloved grips onto your white nurse outfit. “You’re being so brave.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers.

His whimper makes you feel flustered in a way you hadn’t expected. And you’re pretty sure it’s nothing to do with the task at hand.

You can’t think of a response to comfort him. Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired - usually, your patients are much fluffier. You stop short of calling him a good boy and patting his head

Finally, you tie off your last stitch and squeeze some antibacterial ointment onto the neat row of stitches.

“Done. Now take a look at this.” With difficulty, he hoists himself into his elbows to look at his stomach. “Evenly spaced stitches, not too tight, yeah? Now look at these.” You point at the scar on his lower abdomen. “Tiny stitches. They’re too tight. And you shouldn’t make X’s when you sew yourself up. Not bad for a second try, though.”

“That was like the fifth time I’ve done it,” he pouts. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Look, you can feel how it’s gone all bumpy.” You trace your fingers along the scar, feeling the way the skin has healed unevenly under the trail of hair on his stomach.

He flushes again as he looks down at you, your fingers brushing his abdomen.

“What?”

“Sorry.” He lies back again, determinedly looking at the ceiling.

“For what? Oh.” Your forearm brushes against something hard in his pants as you remove your hand from his stomach. “My bad.”

“It’s not - ” he winces, trying to sit up further but changes his mind mid-way through. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt?”

“My… my boner?”

“No!” You crack up laughing again and he joins in uncertainly as if not sure why. “Your very recent knife wound?”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean - no.” His eyes linger on your body and you suddenly feel very aware of the fact that you’re kneeling at his side wearing not very much clothing. He swallows and looks away quickly. “Y’know, I should go. I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

You laugh like it’s nothing. That this whole situation is totally in your comfort zone.

“Don’t worry about it. I was supposed to be going to a Halloween party with a date but they bailed.”

“They bailed on you?”

“Eh, it happens.” You shrug. “They mighta had a better offer.”

“Than you?” He looks at you seriously and pushes his glasses higher up his nose. “No way. Not possible. You’re, like, a ten.”

You tilt your head and look at him carefully. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when you get up from the floor, sit on the bed next to him and place the back of your hand on his forehead.

“Wha - what are you doing?”

“You don’t seem to have a fever…” His eyebrows scrunch together as he gazes up at you through his wire-rimmed frames. “I just thought you might be hallucinating.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not hot.”

“You don’t have to compliment me just because I stitched you up.”

“Am not!” he protests like you’re teasing him. “I’d compliment you all the time if you didn’t run off every time I saw you.”

It’s your turn to protest. “I do not ‘run off’.”

Although it’s not strictly true. You sort of do. You just thought he hadn’t noticed.

“Uh, yeah!” he says. “When you picked up that package last week? It was kinda impressive how fast you sprinted across the hall.”

You feel heat rising in your neck as you remember it. He had answered the door wearing just a pair of grey sweatpants, grinning as you read the indiscreet label plastered on the front.

‘HOSPITAL HOTTIE - ADULT FANTASY LINGERIE’

You had stammered a quick thanks before fleeing back to your apartment where you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes closed, not sure whether to text your friends immediately with this news or to strip off and take a cold shower.

You look down at your almost bare legs and smooth out the front of your outfit, now wishing you hadn’t so hastily thrown off your bathrobe. It must look ridiculous.

“Y’know when I saw the label, I thought a lot about what was in that package.”

Your eyes dart up instinctively to see if he’s making fun of you. He’s smiling. But sincerely. It’s a cute smile. With dimples.

“You did?”

“Tch - Hell yeah I did. I sort of… I dunno. Fantasised about this, I guess.”

Your throat feels dry. “About this?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought I might have been dreaming when you actually opened the door like that.”

You look at him suspiciously. “Adrian… did you - did you get stabbed on purpose so I’d take care of you?”

“What? No! I never get stabbed.”

“Never?”

You touch the scar on his lower abdomen again and this time - intentionally - your forearm rests on his crotch.

“Well, hardly ever.”

“You should let me stitch you up from now on,” you say, as your fingers dance down his stomach. “The next rare occasion you get stabbed.”

The heel of your hand barely grazes the tip of his hard cock through his pants. When his eyes lock onto yours, you know you’re not being slick. He swallows. You freeze. You’re worried you’ve overstepped.

You both stare at each other for a few seconds.

You realise you’ve been holding your breath. “What else was in your fantasy?” you whisper in an exhale.

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes like he’s throwing caution to the wind. “This.” His gloved hand clamps on top of yours faster than you’d have expected in his injured state and he firmly moves your hand over his cock.

Fuck it.

Your hands work urgently, unzipping the suit hugging his waistline and suddenly his warm cock is under your palm.

He suppresses a groan of pain and you look up in alarm, worried that you’ve hurt him somehow but you can see he’s trying to sit up.

“Lie back - you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“It’s - ow, fuck - it’s worth it if I can kiss you.”

You push his chest back gently so he’s lying on your pillows and kneel on the bed to kiss him. As soon as your lips meet his, he tries to lift himself up again, lurching himself deeper into your mouth. Your tongue slips into his mouth as you push, more firmly this time, onto his chest so he can’t sit up.

You lean your forehead against his and his glasses push into your brow. “Keep still. Nurse’s orders.”

“I thought you were a vet,” he says breathlessly.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

You lick your palm, wrap your hand around his cock and slide it along his shaft.

“Oh fuck... Fuck - you’re so hot. Where - where have you been all my life?”

His eyebrows knit together in a beautiful, pathetic sort of way that makes your lower tummy burn dangerously.

“Across the hall in this slutty little outfit. Waiting to take care of you.”

“Holy fucking shit.” He tenses his thighs and jerks his hips up into your slick fist with a laboured groan.

“Don’t. Stay still,” you tell him sternly. For some reason your reprimand makes him clench his jaw.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah? I bet you do. I bet you’ve been jerking off thinking about it.”

“Y- yeah,” he gasps. His cheeks are flushed pink. You don’t think it’s from embarrassment - you have a feeling he doesn’t embarrass easily so you press on.

“Tell me.”

“I’ve been - shit - I’ve been jerking off thinking about you.”

“Doing what?” Your hand picks up pace and he squirms underneath your touch.

“I told you. This.”

“Just this?”

“Fuck. No.”

“Tell me then,” you repeat.

“I wanted to - oh god - when you ran across the hall, I wanted to grab you.” His voice strains. “Pull down your scrubs and fuck you so hard you wouldn’t forget my name again.”

You feel yourself dissolving then and there. “Shit. I would have let you.”

“Ah - fuck,” he whispers as he throbs under your hand. “Let me. Please.”

“No.” You stay in your kneeling position on the bed - one hand bracing against his chest to prevent him from sitting up and the other pumping up and down his cock. “You’re hurt. Lemme take care of you.”

He whimpers and pushes his head back into your pillows. The muscles in his pale neck tighten as he swallows hard. You can’t resist leaning down and pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on the exposed sensitive flesh of his throat.

“Relax, Adrian,” you murmur, your mouth pressed against his skin.

When his name leaves your lips, his groan vibrates in his throat against your mouth in response.

“Fuck - fuck - you feel so good.”

“You know where’d feel better, right?”

Adrian’s hips jerk up into your hand again. You don’t scold him this time - you let him squirm and work his hips in sync with your fist. He can handle it.

You kiss along his jawline and meet his lips again.

“Cum for me and you can fuck me when you’re healed,” you whisper.

And quicker than you’d expected - he does.

A shaky gasp leaves his lips and without really realising you’re doing it, you pant with him, breathing each other’s air as spurts of warmth coat your fingers. Your hand flexes along his length as you milk every last rope of cum from him and he collapses back onto your fluffy, white pillows.

Grabbing tissues from your bedside table, he lets you clean him up without complaint as he breathes heavily, staring at your ceiling.

“Better?” You give him a wry smile and he brings his gaze back to you.

“Yeah…” He looks down at his new stitches apprasingly. “I just wish I hadn’t been stabbed.”

“Yeah, well I’m kind of glad you were.”

He laughs so hard that he winces in pain and holds his side again. “Fuck. You’re kind of a freak, you know that, right?”

“Maybe I just like helping injured little things that give me puppy dog eyes.”

Adrian exhales a gentle laugh and fixes his glasses.

“Did you mean what you said about stitching me up again?”

You meet his green eyes. “Did you mean what you said about fucking me so hard I’d never forget your name again?”

“Uh, yeah? Obviously.”

“Then sure.” You toss the used tissue into the trash can and kiss him again. “Fucking sounds good. Pink lemonade is overhyped, anyway.”

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x reader #smut #halloween

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lysenfeu · 10 months

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It's His Birthday

It's His Birthday

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5.7k

Pairing: Adrian Chase x F!Reader

Summary: The 11th Street kids take Adrian out to celebrate for his birthday and try to set him up with the cute bartender.

Content: Alcohol Use, Flirting, Fluff, Smut (Slight Dub-con/Drunk Sex, Sex with Strangers, Facesitting, 69 Position, PIV, Safe Sex)

[Read on AO3]

A/N: This is a silly little smutty one-shot to celebrate Adrian's birthday (or belated cuz this is technically late whoops). I've written mostly mask-stays-on Vig so far, so I thought it would be fun to try and write a cute birthday boy Adrian piece with a civilian!reader. Best boy deserves some fluff and spice!

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Another evening, another evening shift. You sighed as you wiped down the countertop in the dive bar you were currently working in.

Three months ago you threw a dart at a map (okay, a GPS pin drop on your phone but whatever). You ended up dragging your tired and burnt-out self far away from your shitty hometown to Evergreen, Washington for a fresh start. Unfortunately, so far Evergreen was just as shitty as your hometown, albeit with a different landscape view.

You got the first job that accepted your application and now worked at a mediocre at best local bar downtown. It paid enough to live and your new apartment was nearby. You weren't sure how you felt about Evergreen yet but at least it was different.

"Hey, can we open up a tab?"

You snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of a customer and looked up at the impossibly large man in front of you. He looked like a marine and you wondered if there was a military base nearby. You shot him your best customer-service smile.

"Sure, I just need some ID and your card."

The man pulled out his wallet and handed over his license and credit card with the name Christopher Smith. You jotted down his info and handed it back.

"There you go, Chris. What can I get for you?"

"Five beers for the table." He gestured behind him at a booth across the room with four other people sitting down.

"And hey, can you make something special for my buddy?" He pointed out a brunette man with silver-rimmed glasses. "It's his birthday."

You nodded, this happened all the time with people out to celebrate.

"Sure. Does he like pineapple?"

Chris gave you a blank look. "I have no idea."

You filled a tall glass with ice, then poured in vodka, blue curaçao and pineapple juice. Grabbing a slice of pineapple chunk from the garnish bar, you hung it just right on the side of the glass then spun around, tossed a straw in and presented the bright-coloured drink.

"There you go! I hope he likes it."

Chris squinted at the teal cocktail and snorted before picking up the tray.

"He's gonna love it, thanks."

You watched carefully as the large man carried the tray over to the booth and dished out the drinks. He slid the cocktail in front of the cute guy with glasses and then pointed at you. The brunette glanced over at you, then took a sip and looked back up. He gave you a giant dopey grin and a double thumbs up. You returned his smile with a real one, genuinely thrilled he seemed to enjoy your choice.

You watched the group for a little while, there wasn't much else going on in the bar. A few regulars playing pool, what looked like a terrible date in the back corner and the full booth you were staring at were the only patrons tonight.

The group you were watching was new here, at least you didn't recognize them from the few months you'd been working the evening shift. You wondered how they knew each other, daydreaming about customers was a way to pass the time on slow nights like this. You watched them laugh and drink until another customer called your attention and you were forced to spend some time actually doing your job.

When you made your way back across the bar, Chris was leaning on the bar. You put down the empty glass in your hands and addressed him.

"Another round of beers for you guys?"

He nodded at you. "Yeah, thanks." He waited impatiently for you to open them and place them on the tray. "Also I should tell you my friend-" he jerked his head back at the guy with glasses sitting at the booth behind him. "-thinks you're really cute."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Oh really?"

Chris nodded.

"Well if that's true, he can come tell me himself." You slid the tray towards him and then spun off to the other end of the bar where a patron was flagging you down.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as Chris went back to the booth and handed out the beers before whispering to the cute guy in glasses. The brunette flushed and started arguing with the larger man.

You quickly glanced away when they both turned to look at you and you focused intently on pulling the pint another patron had just ordered instead. Sliding the now-full glass across the bar to the customer, you wiped your hands with a cloth and walked back over to the register to ring it up.

"Hi."

You looked up and the dark-haired guy in glasses was standing right in front of you.

"Hi."

He gave you a little wave and an awkward, crooked smile. "I'm Adrian."

You couldn't help but giggle a bit at how nervous he seemed.

"Hi, Adrian. How'd you like your drink, birthday boy?"

A light blush formed on his cheeks as you grinned at him. He really was cute, especially when he was being so shy.

"Um, it was really good. Could I get another like that?"

You nodded and turned around to grab the ingredients. When you turned back around, Adrian was leaning on the bar watching you intently. You mixed the drink and handed it over to him. He took a big sip from the drink, smiled and fidgeted with the straw while he stared at you for a moment.

"Is that all? Or is there something else you want to say?" You gave him a small wink and a cheeky smile.

The blush returned to his cheeks, a deeper red than before. He coughed awkwardly and fidgeted more, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

"I…um."

He couldn't make eye contact as he blurted it out as fast as possible. "I think you're really pretty."

You leaned on the bar, propping yourself up on your elbows as you tilted your face closer to him.

"What a coincidence, I think you're really pretty too."

You were doing your best impression of a Cheshire cat, grinning madly at how flustered he was. He was still staring at you with wide eyes and it looked like he was about to say something but the magic of the moment was unfortunately shattered by Chris and one of his friends suddenly approaching the bar.

"Can I get a round of shots? Whiskey."

You nodded and walked back to the bar to pour the shots for him. Adrian looked a little miffed at his friends and you bit back another smile, hoping he would talk to you again later.

You quickly finished pouring the drinks and handed over the five shots on a tray and Chris grabbed it from you.

"Thanks, sweet-cheeks."

The woman next to Chris immediately scolded him. "We've been over this. That is not an okay thing to say!"

He turned towards you with a defensive look. "Can you settle this for us? It's totally about having a nice smile!"

"No, no. She's definitely right," You nodded at the woman in agreement. "That phrase is definitely about saying someone has a nice butt."

"I mean, either way, he's not wrong." Adrian gulped and ducked down to stare into his drink as all three of you whipped around to look at him.

"What was that, buddy?" Chris was looking at him in astonishment.

"Nothing." Adrian shook his head and all but ran back to their booth holding his cocktail, avoiding everyone's eye.

"Sorry about him." The woman apologised to you.

"I don't mind." You shrugged at her. "I think he's sweet."

Chris was giving you an incredulous look. "Him?"

"Yeah, him."

You were given a quick look of resignation by both of them before he walked back to the booth with their drinks.

You tried to keep an eye on the group, especially the adorable one, but a few more regulars came in and you were swept away to serve them. The evening progressed in a flash with back-to-back orders from the new tables. You were finally back at the register when a voice sounded out.

"Hey!"

You looked up and there he was again, the cutie in glasses. You couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, Adrian! What can I get for you?"

He gave you a goofy smile when he heard you say his name. "Another round of shots please?"

"Sure thing!" You made a big show of pouring the shots from high up without splashing and Adrian gave you an appropriately awed look at your bartending skills.

"So hey, maybe we could-" He was cut off by Chris interrupting again, he had stomped over to grab the tray of shots from the counter.

"I said I got it!" Adrian protested.

"You were taking too long." Chris snapped at his friend.

"I was trying to ask her to join us."

"She can't drink with us, dumbass. She's working."

Adrian turned towards you. "Is that true?"

You shrugged apologetically. "Yeah, he's right. It's policy."

His face fell. "Aw, man. That sucks."

As if on cue, your manager walked out from the back and came over to you.

"Hey if you wanna take off in fifteen or so, that's fine. It's a little slow tonight, I can handle close by myself."

You nodded, any excuse to take off early was a good one. Especially such a conveniently timed one.

Adrian perked up at the news. "Wait, you're almost done with your shift?"

"Yeah, I guess I get off early tonight. Lucky me!"

"Does that mean you can drink with me?"

"What about your friends?" You gestured towards the booth where the rest of his group was gathering their things.

"They want to leave soon, but I'll stay if I can buy you a drink." He looked at you with big pleading eyes and you noted how bright and green they were.

You thought about it for a moment. You usually never drank with customers but… maybe a one-time exception wouldn't be too bad? Spending the rest of the evening drinking with a nice stranger who thought you were pretty could be worse.

"Sure, why not?" You smiled at him and winked. "It is your birthday after all."

You finished cleaning up and clocked out. Adrian was waiting for you as you walked out from the back without your apron. His friends were in the process of closing out the tab with your manager and the booth they had been in was mostly empty, save for two shots waiting for you.

You slid onto the cushioned seat and watched as Adrian said goodbye to the others. Chris clapped him on the shoulder and said something low in his ear that made Adrian whip his head up and look at you with an expression you couldn't quite read.

Your attention was pulled away from the interaction as your manager walked over and placed several candy colour shots and two bright teal cocktails down in front of you.

"Uh, thanks?"

The older woman rolled her eyes. "They're from the big guy that's just leaving. Said something about celebrating properly with something sweet?" She gave you a pointed look and walked off as Adrian came back over.

"What are these?"

You shrugged. "Apparently I have some catching up to do."

The next hour or two passed in a blur after you'd downed the shots and were working on the cocktails in order to catch up with Adrian, who had been drinking all night. The conversation got loud, with the two of you ending up arguing passionately about Star Wars, much to the annoyance of the few other patrons nearby. By the time the bar closed, you had definitely caught up and Adrian had sobered up a bit, leaving the both of you still rather tipsy. Your manager shuffled the two of you to the curb and warned you to get home safely.

"Did you have a good night?"

He grinned at you. "I had a great night."

You grinned back, warm and fuzzy from the alcohol.

"So… I'm just headed that way." You pointed in the general direction of your apartment.

He nodded at you but didn't make any movements. You're not exactly sure that you wanted a strange guy to follow you home but you were still slightly disappointed at his lack of response.

You headed down the street you had pointed towards and got about a block away before you realized Adrian was hot on your heels.

"Do you…also live this way?"

He shook his head. "Not at all, but there's no way I'm letting you walk home alone while drunk."

"What? Why not?"

He frowned at you. "You need someone to protect you, it's kind of dangerous for women out here."

"Oh, so I can't protect myself? Just because I'm a girl?" You stopped in your tracks and put your hands on your hips in annoyance, wobbling a little on the sidewalk. Your indignance at his insinuation briefly overshadowed the fact that you kind of wanted him to come home with you.

"Yes? I mean, no! …Kind of? Wait, is that sexist? Fuck." He was scrambling to explain himself and failing miserably.

"You're just as drunk as me, what help are you gonna be?" You poked him in the chest to emphasise your point.

"Okay maybe, but I can still ki-" He cut himself off suddenly and shook his head. "Look, there's safety in numbers! I'm walking with you, end of story." He grabbed your hand that was still poking at him and tugged you further along the path behind him.

"Fine, but you don't even know where you're going!"

"Oh. Right." He sighed, stopped and dropped your hand, looking back at you. "Which way?"

You rolled your eyes but grabbed his hand again and directed him towards a side street in the opposite direction he had been headed.

"Just down here. It's not far so you don't have to waste too much of your time."

"It's not a waste if I'm spending it with you." He muttered, looking everywhere but directly at you.

It was your turn to blush, taken aback by his unexpectedly sweet words. You kept a firm grip on his hand as you approached your apartment building.

You were just nearing the building door when you tripped on an uneven chunk of sidewalk and suddenly you were headed straight for the ground.

You braced yourself for an impact that… never came. Instead, a pair of strong arms shot out, wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards. Rather than hitting the cold cement, you were now pressed against a very warm and solid chest. You had no idea how but Adrian had managed to save you from a brutal face plant.

You spun around to face him in shock. He loosened his grip to allow you to move but didn't let you out of his arms as he stared down at you with concern etched onto his face.

"Holy shit, are you okay?"

"You caught me." You stared up at him as he held you tight. Have his eyes been this green all night?

"Yeah, of course I did." His nonchalant tone made you giggle again. Of course , he did. You were still staring up at him and he was getting more concerned.

"Are you sure you're okay? You're breathing really heavy."

"Just…don't move." Your voice was low and soft, you were entirely distracted by how shiny his lips looked in the streetlight.

You found yourself leaning in close without even meaning to, swayed by the warmth in your veins flooding from his hands around you. Your hand slipped behind his neck as you rose on your tiptoes, slowly invading his space and getting unbearably close to his face.

You could feel his breath on your face, tinged with the pineapple cocktails he'd been drinking all night. The sweet scent wasn't helping your impulse control and you were so close to those soft, pink lips…

Your eyes flicked up to his, finding those bright green spots behind his silver frames. He caught your gaze and you saw something flash across his eyes. His grip on your arms tightened as his breathing stuttered and he finally closed the gap between you.

He tasted like pineapple with a faint hint of whiskey, a combination you thoroughly enjoyed. A warmth spread through your lips and into your very bones as he pressed into you until you both broke away panting for air.

"Hey, Adrian?" You murmured, still trying to catch your breath from the kiss.

"Yeah?"

"Would…you like to come upstairs?"

He paused for a moment, glancing over at the apartment complex door then down at you, still being held tight in his arms.

"Do you want me to come upstairs?"

You giggled again. You couldn't help it, he was so silly. "Yes, that's why I'm asking."

He swallowed hard and you watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. With your lowered inhibitions and rising temperature, you gave in to temptation and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his throat. He inhaled sharply, instinctively tugging you closer to him.

"Okay, yeah. Upstairs. We should do that." His breath was shaky as his hands slid down your back to rest on your waist. The warmth from his touch spread through your body and you smiled up at him.

You stepped into the lobby, made your way to the elevators and waited for the doors to open. You hit the number for your floor as Adrian stepped in behind you. When the doors closed, he spun towards you and reached up a hand to gently cup your jaw, before pulling you in for another kiss. You sighed against his lips and wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him in closer. You let out a small moan as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth, slowly getting lost in the kiss and forgetting where you were.

He braced his free hand on the wall beside you and pushed you slowly against it, pressing his entire body into you. You relished in the warmth and didn't want to let him go. He slid his hand from your jaw down to your neck and was reaching under the strap of your top when the elevator doors loudly dinged open.

You squeaked, suddenly very aware of the compromising position you were in. You quickly disentangled yourself from Adrian and tugged on his hand, pulling him into the hall as you both exited the elevator.

"Come on!"

You dragged him by the arm down the hall and around the corner to your apartment door. Fishing out your keys becomes an arduous task as Adrian comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you back into again.

The keys slipped from your grasp and hit the floor, but you barely even noticed through the haze of Adrian's lips on your neck.

"I didn't want to stop, is this okay?" He whispers in your ear.

You were left breathless as his hand slid further up your hip, under the hem of your shirt. His warm palm ran across your bare stomach and every muscle in your abdomen tensed at the sensation.

"Oh god, yes."

He pressed more kisses along your neck as he ran his fingers along your skin, gently stroking along the waistband of your pants.

"We should-" You can barely get the words out as your body slowly melted under his hands and mouth. "-go inside." You managed to finish your sentence and he pulled away from you. You nearly whined at the loss of his touch but he swiftly grabbed your keys off the ground and turned them into the lock for you.

You had barely let him through the threshold of your apartment before slamming the door and pushing him against it, pulling him down for another kiss.

You made your way through the apartment, not bothering to stop the make-out session to give him a tour. You practically shoved him into your bedroom and pushed him down to sit on the edge of your mattress.

You quickly stripped off your work pants and top, standing in front of him in nothing but a plain black bra and panty set. You had a small smirk on your face as he stared up at you with wide eyes, his gaze running all along your body.

"Your turn."

"Oh, right." He snapped out of his daze and quickly pulled his sweater over his head along with his shirt.

"Oh my god." You didn't mean to say that out loud but how could you not? He was deceptively well-built under his clothes.

You marvelled at the bulk of his chest, shoulders and arms. His impressive muscle definition had been entirely hidden by his cardigan and plain T-shirt, you never would have guessed he was this fit. Your gaze trailed along his well-defined abs and down to the sparse pattern of hair leading past his waistband. You bit your lip at how gorgeous he looked, so strong and solid.

"Do you work out a lot or something?"

He laughed at your stunned comment.

"Something like that, yeah."

You watched him slip open his belt buckle and tug off his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a pair of dark boxers. Before you could stare for even longer, he tugged you onto his lap and pulled you in for another kiss. You moved to straddle him and kissed him back feverishly.

His tongue swiped at your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to let him in. His hands swept over your thighs and up your spine as his tongue explored your mouth. Fiddling with the clasp behind you, he finally managed to undo your bra. You broke the kiss to lean back, tug the straps off your shoulders and fling it somewhere distant in your room.

He took the opportunity to run his hands up your ribs and along the underside of your now-exposed breasts, cupping them gently and making you gasp. You couldn't hold back the whimpers that flew out of your mouth as he brushed his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks.

He leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, clicking his tongue against the hard nub. You grabbed the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the dark curls at his nape as you pressed him further into your chest, desperate to keep his mouth on you. His lips travelled across your chest, nipping and sucking at every inch of flesh he found.

Once you'd caught your breath, you gently cupped his jaw with a hand and pulled him up to look into his sparkling eyes.

"So…is there anything you want to do? It is your birthday, you know." You couldn't resist giving him a teasing smile.

The tips of his ears turned pink and he stared up at you with wide eyes.

"Really? Anything?"

You smiled wider at his awestruck expression. "Got something special in mind, birthday boy?"

"Maybe? Could you…um…" The blush slowly crept down his ears and across his cheeks as he stammered.

You gently rolled your hips against him and the tips of his fingers flexed against your soft thighs as he let out a small groan at the movement.

"Just relax. Go ahead and ask me."

He took a deep breath and looked up at you with a serious expression.

"Can you sit on my face? …please."

A jolt surged through you at the request. You took in his eager expression, the pupils in his green eyes blown out with desire. He nervously licked his bottom lip and drew your eyes downwards to his soft, pink mouth.

"That's what you want?"

He nodded vigorously, glasses slipping down his nose at the rapid movement. You laughed a little at his enthusiasm before leaning forward and gently removing his glasses. You folded them and stood up to place them on your nightstand before turning back to him.

"I'm in. How do you want me?"

His tongue flicked out across his bottom lip again, but much more deliberately this time. He sat back on your bed and lay down with his head on the pillows.

"Come here and grab onto the headboard."

A shiver raced down your spine as you looked down at this gorgeous man spread out before you, all yours for the night. You shimmied out of your black undies and knelt on the mattress, climbing up beside him. He slid a hand under your knee and helped you lift it up and over, holding you to hover above him with your legs bracketing his face.

His hands wrapped around your thighs, firmly holding you in place right over his mouth. The first few licks were tentative and light against your dripping core, his tongue cautiously exploring you. He let out a soft moan as your taste hit his taste buds and gripped your thighs harder.

"You taste fantastic." He mumbled into your inner thigh before running his tongue back over your folds.

As his mouth worked over you, you began to gently rock your hips against him, increasing the friction in the most delicious way. Picking up on your cues, he started to increase his pace, lapping at you with more pressure.

You let out a loud gasp when his tongue flicked over your clit, a noise which quickly turned into a low moan as he did it again. And again.

"Right there, oh god ."

You wound your fingers through his dark curls and held him in place, right over the bundle of nerves currently sending shockwaves through your entire body.

You rode the waves along with his face, cresting every time he hit that one sweet spot. You looked down at him, those gorgeous green eyes were glassy with lust as you coat his face with your own desire. God, you needed more of him.

"Hey, hey." You gently tugged on his hair and sat up a bit, moving off his face. "If you let me turn around, I can touch you."

He glanced up at you, the lower half of his face glistening with your juices. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, this is incredibly fun but I'd love to taste you too."

"Fuck, okay." He didn't need much convincing. He braced your thighs and allowed you to swing one leg over, spin around and throw it back, bringing you to face the opposite direction. You settled yourself back over his face before turning your attention in front of you.

You could see how his cock was straining against the fabric of his boxers, begging to be released. You slowly slipped his boxers down and his hard cock snapped against his stomach, thick with tension. He was long and thick, a drop of precum already leaking from the swollen tip. Yeah, this was a good idea. A really good idea.

You wrapped a hand around the base and began to stroke him up and down with gentle pressure. His hips arched up into your grip and a moan vibrated from low in his throat, rippling through your soaked pussy still pressed right against his face.

You found a solid rhythm between rocking against his face and pumping his cock, getting used to his size. When you were confident enough, you leaned down and swirled your tongue around the head.

The salty taste hit the back of your throat as you slowly slid him further and further into your eager mouth. It took some work and concentration but you managed to work all of him down into your throat without gagging. The choked moans he released when your lips hit the base of his cock were well worth the strain.

Any prior concern you had about this position was quickly worn away as you picked up speed, grinding harder against him. Your thighs started to shake and he tightened his grip on you, holding you steady as you started to come undone above him.

You were still bobbing up and down on his cock, your moans being stifled with him deep in your throat. His fingers were pressing bruises into your skin with their grip and he couldn't stop his hips from jerking up, forcing himself deeper into your mouth, chasing his own release.

You were desperately trying to breathe through your nose and not choke as he fucked up into your throat, teetering on the edge of orgasm as he ran the tip of his tongue over your clit again and again.

You braced your hands on his thighs as the rubber band finally snapped, your pussy drenching his face as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You somehow managed to keep your throat open as he thrust up a few more times before spilling down your throat in return. You dutifully swallowed and slowly pulled back, releasing his softening cock.

You rolled your hips off his face and flopped onto the mattress, grateful for the change in position. Your thighs were going to burn tomorrow but god, that was worth it. You rested for a moment, waiting for the last waves of bliss to fade before moving again.

You crawled to the other side of the bed and lay next to him for a little while, lazily enjoying playing with his dark brown curls and counting his freckles as you both recovered from your climaxes.

His hands were idly dragging across your skin, tracing unknown patterns along your thighs and stomach.

"Hey."

You turned to face him and let out a small giggle at the dopey expression on his face.

"Hey."

" …Do you have any condoms?" He wouldn't look you in the eye as he asked.

"Round two already? I'm impressed."

He flushed immediately, turning pink and twitching his fingertips against your hip. Your cheeks were starting to hurt with how much this man made you grin like a maniac. It was so much fun to tease him, to make him blush. He was the cutest thing you'd ever seen.

"Uh, yes? Only if you want to." He quickly reassured you.

You smiled and hopped off the bed to rummage around on your nightstand. Oh, you definitely wanted to. You tossed a foil wrapper at him and climbed back on the mattress. You watched carefully as he sat up on his knees and pumped his rapidly hardening cock in his fist a few times before rolling on the condom.

He rolled over on top of you and nudged your thighs apart to make room. You held your breath with anticipation as he ran his fingers across you, smiling when he found you already wet. He gripped his cock at the base and ever so slowly slid the head against your core. He easily slipped through your folds, gathering the wetness along his cock in preparation.

"Ready?" He looked down at you, waiting for permission.

You cupped his face in your hands, drew him close and looked into his impossibly green eyes.

"Yes."

He leaned down to capture your lips as he lined up his aching cock with your entrance. He pushed inside you, slowly sinking in inch by inch. You felt the burn of the stretch for a moment as he finally bottomed out, and he paused for a second to let you adjust. The sensation quickly melted into bliss and you felt impossibly full with him buried completely inside you.

You rolled your hips against him, urging him to start moving. He placed his lips on your neck as he slowly began to thrust into you. You gripped his shoulders and arched against him as his teeth scraped along your neck and down your collarbone while he found a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your soaking pussy. He bit down gently on your shoulder and snapped his hips, forcing a loud moan from you.

Sitting back on his heels, he slid his hands under your knees and pushed them down into the mattress, forcing his cock even deeper. The new angle allowed his sharp thrusts to hit that sweet spot right in your core, sending new waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You couldn't stop from crying out as the pleasure wound up, pulling tight in your lower abdomen. He groaned, the loud sound torn out of him in response to feeling you fluttering around him, squeezing his cock impossibly tight.

"I want to feel you cum," he practically growled in your ear. "Be a good girl and cum on my cock."

"Oh, fuck."

The unexpected dominance in his voice sent liquid fire through your veins and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your climax. His control was slowly slipping and his pace quickened, slamming his hips into yours and sending both of you hurtling towards the edge. You grabbed at his shoulders, your nails digging into him with each stroke.

A few more thrusts, perfectly angled to hammer into just the right spot making you whimper uncontrollably right in his ear, and both of you tumbled off the cliff together. The warmth you'd been feeling all evening spread to every atom of your body as you floated through your orgasm, leaving Adrian gasping for breath as you contracted tightly around him, your cunt desperately milking every drop out of him.

Once he'd caught his breath, he carefully pulled out and snapped the used condom off, tossing it in the small waste basket next to your bed. He climbed back into your bed and collapsed next to you, careful not to crush you with his body weight. He reached out an arm and snagged it around you, pulling you close. You cuddled into his side, fully content and boneless in his arms.

"Hey, Adrian?" You mumbled into his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

You leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before snuggling back into him and closing your eyes.

"Happy Birthday."

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A/N: You cannot tell me this boy is not shy af and so goofy around pretty girls without the mask on 😂 Civilian Adrian trying to be normal is the sweetest, this was so much fun. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know what you think ~

#adrian chase #vigilante #peacemaker #adrian chase fanfiction #adrian chase fanfic #adrian chase fic #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x you #freddie stroma #fanfiction #lysenfeu fics #peacemaker dcu #adrian chase smut #smut fic

839 notes · View notes

nbdynolan · 9 months

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i have severe adrian brain rot i miss the silly guy so much i want him back now pls

#peacemaker #adrian chase #vigilante #11th street kids #i miss him

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tropes-and-tales · 1 year

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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

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iofrostvigilante · 1 month

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#vigilante #adrian chase #peacemaker

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welcome--back · 11 days

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IT'S HAPPENING!!!

#dc #adrian chase #vigilante #peacemaker

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nobitchs-world · 11 days

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Me after searching up “character name x black!reader” and it gives me some Harry Potter shit

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kirkenovak · 2 years

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I guess my favourite character trope is immortal, queer and not here for your bullshit?

EDIT:

When you forget about these three so they side-eye you the entire evening.

EDIT 2:

#the umbrella academy #the sandman #peacemaker #the old guard #klaus hargreeves #adrian chase #vigilante #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #hob gadling #what we do in the shadows #doom patrol #larry trainor #negative man

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training4theapocalypse · 9 months

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Never Been Kissed (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: SMUT, Second chance romance, Canon typical descriptions of murder and violence, Oral (fem receiving), P in V, Safe sex (male condom), Multiple orgasms

Summary: You're a PI who joins the 11th Street Kids after a chance meeting with John Economos on the dark web. Unfortunately for you, your ex-friend-with-benefits Vigilante is here too. (Based on this ask by anon)

A/N: This took a hot minute. The M&Ms were originally cigarettes but these days I'm a healthy queen free of nicotine -purr.

Masterlist

Join my tag list: @likeficsinthewnd, @she-wolf09231982, @pretendfan, @lolitstiana, @countlambula, @chiaraanatra, @stainedpomegranatelips, @navs-bhat, @ohnoitsrosie, @daisydark, @angrydragon90, @intense-sneezing

Chapter text:

The dim fire exit sign outside the back of the abandoned video store flickers as you suck a peanut M&M between your tongue and the roof of your mouth anxiously. You hope your contact hurries the fuck up - if he makes you wait any longer you’ll finish an entire party bag from nervousness.

It was stupid, really, even reckless, to meet a stranger from the dark web. But when some guy called TechConomos_11 had responded to you in a chat room where you were discussing the intel you had on some sinister goings-on in Evergreen, you knew you had to meet him and his team.

Because you’ll be damned if anyone catches the escaped gorilla before you.

There’s a clink of a padlock and chain falling to the floor, the sound of a heavy emergency exit bar being pushed down and when the door opens you’re face to face with a large, bearded man wearing glasses.

“Are you the PI?”

If you had to draw a sketch of what you thought a guy you met on the dark web would look like, he would be it. Not a neckbeard, exactly, just someone with the distinct aura of having too much time spent in front of a screen.

You nod. “TechConomos?”

“Call me John. Come inside - the team’s all here.”

You shove the half-empty pack of M&Ms into your bag and he leads you through to the back office.

“This is Murn, Harcourt and Adebayo.” He gestures to his three associates sitting in the office who each acknowledge you in turn. “And these guys-”

“Fuck it! Fuck, fuck fuck!”

The yelling draws your attention to the window separating the office from the rest of the video store and it’s like a knife in your gut when you see him.

Vigilante.

“Ugh, fuck! It hurts to walk!” Vigilante whines as he limps around. He turns to pace some more but stops in his tracks in alarm when he sees you. He immediately dives to the floor, launching himself behind a desk in a futile attempt to hide.

Vigilante is the last person you expected to - or wanted to - see here. It’s not his usual MO - normally he’d be out hunting thugs and drug dealers. What was he doing caught up in this operation with some tech guy and a team who you suspected were either current or former soldiers?

There’s a roaring laugh and your eyes find Peacemaker, doubled over in his chair, laughing like an idiot at Vigilante sprawled on the ground.

That explains Vigilante’s involvement. Looks like his idol, Peacemaker, is finally out of prison and the first thing he does is rope Vigilante into whatever this is. The whole thing stinks. Why is there an entire team with two capes looking for an escaped zoo animal? Any why did one of those capes have to be Vigilante?

You close your eyes and groan. “You didn’t tell me you were working with them.”

“You know each other?” asks Harcourt.

“Just Vigilante.” You sigh and follow them into the video store.

“Hey, asshole,” you say, peering over the desk Vigilante is hidden behind. He looks up at you and props his masked head up on his arm casually as if you didn’t just see him throw himself there a second ago.

“Oh, hey!” he says, feigning pleasant surprise.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“I hurt my pinky toe.”

“Yeah? Which one?” You walk around the desk and stand at his feet to get a better look.

“Nononono! Wait!”

You clock the way his visor-covered eyes dart down to his right foot in panic.

“Woah, did you think I was gonna kick you or something?” Sure, you have beef but you’re kind of offended he’d think that you’d harm him on purpose.

“No…” he mumbles sheepishly.

“Asshole.” You roll your eyes and sit on the hard wooden surface, turning away from him to face the team.

“Who the fuck is this?” Peacemaker asks Murn before looking between you and Vigilante. “Do you two know each other or something?”

You don’t deign to reply.

There’s a squeak of a chair being dragged on linoleum as Vigilante pulls himself up onto a seat next to Peacemaker with a wince.

“Economos says you want to join the team,” says Murn.

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“I know everything that goes on in Evergreen.”

“And?”

“I have information and skills that I want money for. Obviously.”

“How much?”

You were talking about splitting the reward for the gorilla but Murn’s expectant look makes it clear this is a contract. What’s that saying again? A contract in the hand is worth a gorilla in the bush? … Something like that.

“Well, what are you paying him?” You cast your eyes at Vigilante who shrugs. Unbelievable. “They’re not paying you? Idiot.”

Murn and Harcourt glance at each other awkwardly. “This is strictly off the books,” says Murn.

“So you were just going to take advantage of him? No way. I want my pay backdated for all the intell I’ve found for you. And his too for whatever it is he’s doing for you.”

“How do you guys know each other?” asks John, pulling up a chair behind his laptop.

You look at Vigilante warningly and answer before he can open his fat mouth. “I’ve sent some work his way once or twice. And compensated him fairly for it,” you add pointedly.

“Oh, they’ve definitely fucked,” laughs Peacemaker.

“Shouldn’t you be in Belle Reve?” You glare at him.

Peacemaker ignores the question. “Did he keep the mask on with you too?” He pouts faux-sympathetically.

This catches you off-guard. Not Vigilante and Peacemaker fucking - Vigilante is so obsessed with him that you guessed it was only a matter of time.

But he did keep his mask on.

Vigilante groans and leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and staring determinedly at his injured foot.

“Ha! I knew it!”

“Enough!” Murn gives Peacemaker a severe look before turning his attention back to you. “John says you know the location of what we’re looking for.”

“I’m not telling you until you get me up to speed with what you’ve got so far. John wouldn’t tell me shit online. Call it a show of good faith.”

“And we’re supposed to just take your word that you actually have useful information?” asks Adebayo.

John opens his mouth to reply but Vigilante beats him to the punch.

“She knows,” says Vigilante, finally looking up. “She’s… she’s a good PI. If she says she knows, she knows.”

“Well, we can’t divulge state secrets just because Vigilante vouches for you. Tell us the ‘where’ and if it checks out - you’re in,” says Harcourt.

You look around at this unlikely group. If you want to catch the gorilla you need their help. You need their weapons. You need their money.

“It’s at the Glan Tai bottling plant. You heard of it?”

“Pulling it up now…” John types on his keyboard. “It makes sense, Murn. They’ve got the production, the distribution channels… This is probably it.”

Distribution channels? What’s the gorilla at Glan Tai got to do with distribution?

You keep your face neutral - if there’s one thing you’ve learned from this job, it’s when to sit back, shut up and listen.

You try to piece things together as Murn talks about ‘butterflies’ and their ‘food source’. Economos checks highway CCTV footage and confirms that your intel is correct. This is extremely lucky for you because you’re clearly talking about two entirely different things. You wonder if these ‘butterflies’ are some kind of parasite-induced sleeper agent. And maybe the food source is a drug to release them from their fugue state?

“...And the gorilla?” you ask eventually.

“What about the gorilla?” asks Harcourt.

“The gorilla is at Glan Tai.”

“There’s a Butterfly gorilla?” asks Vigilante excitedly. “That is so cool!”

“Is that even possible?” Harcourt asks Murn who nods.

You’ve seen some shit but a gorilla sleeper agent takes the fucking cake. They all seem totally unfazed so you pretend to be too.

“So, what’s our next move? When do we start killing these aliens?” asks Peacemaker.

Aliens.

You discreetly scan the others. Nobody else bats an eyelid at Peacemaker’s use of that word.

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

“You two get some rest, come back tonight,” says Murn to Peacemaker and Vigilante. “And you - you’ve got evidence of what we’re doing here?” There’s no point in lying so you nod. “Bring it back here so we can destroy it. All of it.”

You, Peacemaker and Vigilante, leave the video store. You cross the street to get to your car but Vigilante calls your name. You turn around to see him hurriedly limping over while Peacemaker climbs into the Vigilantemobile.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re part of the team now.”

“I can’t return the sentiment.” You scowl at him. Peacemaker beeps the horn of Vigilante’s car. “You’d better hurry up - you don’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.”

“We’re not in a relationship. You know I only wanted to be with-”

“Don’t you dare.”

“C’mon, can’t you at least tell me why you stopped answering my calls?”

“I already told you - I’m not going to wait around my entire life for a guy who won’t even show me his face. Or tell me his real name.”

“I can’t -”

“Save your excuses for someone who gives a shit.” Peacemaker blasts the horn again. “At least I know you keep the mask on when you fuck him too. It’s not like he’s seen your face.”

Vigilante’s visor-covered eyes avoid contact with yours. His hesitation is like a punch in the gut.

“He’s seen your face?” You don’t mean to whisper it. The words just spill from your lips like you’ve been winded.

“Not like that. That was just a meaningless threesome-”

“But he’s seen it?”

He nods.

You push him aside to throw your car door open and get in. “Fuck you, V.” You slam it shut and drive away, not even bothering to glance at him standing haplessly in your rearview mirror.

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

Later that evening, you and John cross-check your intel. It’s becoming clear that this is way out of your fucking league. But if Vigilante can do it, you can too.

Right?

“You want some peanut M&Ms?”.

He accepts a handful gladly. “Why is so much of this about the fucking gorilla?” John asks with his mouth full, looking over your shoulder at your laptop screen.

The necessity of any quick thinking on your part is interrupted when you hear Murn’s voice ringing from the back office.

“You told Vigilante to kill Peacemaker's father?!”

You and John drop what you’re doing and peer tentatively around the door of the office where Murn is berating Adebayo.

“I didn't tell him to… I just kinda put the idea in his head,” she explains.

“That Peacemaker would be better off without his father?”

Oh no.

“Where’s Vigilante?” you ask suspiciously, joining Murn as he stands with his arms crossed. He looks furious.

“He’s in jail,” mumbles Adebayo. “I might have suggested that if someone were to go in and kill Peacemaker’s dad, all our problems would go away.”

You run your hands through your hair.

“How could you manipulate him like that?” Your combat boots squeak on the floor as you pace across it, catastrophising aloud. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Vigilante is very fucking easy to manipulate. And he has a record. What if he kills someone in prison and gets locked up for life? Or what if he gets himself killed trying?”

“Peacemaker’s gonna see right through this. He’ll know exactly what you tried to do,” says Murn to Adebyo sternly.

They’re fucking crazy.

“Who gives a shit about Peacemaker? Vigilante is locked in jail with the White Dragon!” You plead urgently. Vigilante is in real danger and all they care about is Peacemaker’s feelings.

“Economos, can you get Vigilante out of the system before he screws us worse than we're already screwed?”

John sighs. “I don’t even know this guy’s name.”

The four of them look at you.

You cross your arms. “I can’t tell you his name.”

“Guess he’s gonna die in prison then -”

“Last name Chase. First name Adrian.” You blurt out his secret that you’ve been holding deep in your chest. “But you can’t tell him I told you. He doesn’t know I know.”

You crowd around John’s laptop as he pulls up Adrian’s file.

“We shouldn’t be looking at this,” you say as you stare intently at his mugshot - the mugshot you’re so well acquainted with. You’d rather die than admit how many hours you’ve spent sitting at your desk late at night, looking at his police record on your laptop.

And suddenly, it’s like you’re back in bed with him, as he stares breathlessly at the ceiling and you lie there naked on top of his bare chest, looking into his masked face, picturing that very same mugshot underneath it.

“Guess again,” Vigilante says. You can tell even under the mask that he’s grinning, enjoying your questioning.

“Hmm… are you a doctor? You’ve stitched yourself up a lot.”

“You think I’m a doctor and live here?”

Vigilante watches as you make a show of pursing your lips thoughtfully. The warm afternoon sun streaks through the gaps in his blinds onto his bed. It makes it look like there’s a golden halo around your messy bed hair. He tucks a small strand behind your ear as you walk your index and middle fingers along his chest and down his shoulder.

“Maybe a fireman with these big strong arms?”

He likes you when you let your walls down like this. You’re almost downright playful when he’s satisfied you - a personality trait he still hasn’t extricated from you outside these four walls.

“Man, I am so good at this secret identity thing if I can keep it a secret from a PI.”

You laugh. “I guess so.”

He didn’t know that you had long known his real job. And his real name. Or that you’d trace your fingers over his face on your laptop screen as you tried to reconcile it with the masked killer who was content to let you into his bed but never his real life.

“Wasn’t he our busboy at Fennel Fields?” Adebayo’s question snaps you back to the present.

“Can you pull him out?” You ask John.

“It’s… done.” He says, with a final click of his keyboard. “Let’s just hope he hasn’t done anything stupid. Yet.”

Harcourt shrugs her leather jacket on. “I’ll pick him up.”

Great - first he reveals to Peacemaker who he is and now Harcourt who he’s known for a hot minute is about to see his face too.

You frown. “He’s gonna be really upset we know his identity.”

“You wanna come and soften the blow?”

“I’ll drive.”

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

Harcourt sits in the passenger seat of your car outside of the Evergreen Police Department. You’ve been sitting here quietly in the dark, staring at the front doors for almost an hour.

“So what’s your deal with Vigilante?” She asks, finally breaking the silence.

“I told you - I threw some contract work his way. Used him as a bodyguard from time to time when I needed the extra muscle.”

“And then what? Why did you call him an asshole?”

“Because he can be an asshole.”

“That doesn’t sound right. A psychopath maybe. But an asshole? I don’t buy it.”

You keep your eyes focused on the police station door to hide your face. “He doesn’t mean to be an asshole.” You swallow with difficulty. “He just has a code. Lots of quirky little rules he has to follow that makes it difficult for someone ordinary like me to be - I mean, to work with him.”

“Like not revealing his secret identity.”

It’s not a question but you nod all the same.

“So this is your first time seeing him without his mask?”

“That he knows of.” Your forehead touches the cool glass window. It’s like if you stare hard enough at the door he’ll appear in one piece. “I had to do my background checks.”

The doors open and you see Adrian Chase in his cardigan and jeans walking out into the dark night, illuminated by the fluorescent streetlights.

He’s alive.

You roll down your window and he stops dead. He stares at you in shock with his lips parted slightly - unsure whether you recognise him or not.

Harcourt stretches across your seat and calls to Adrian. “We’re here to take you home. Get in.”

When he climbs into the back seat of your car you both turn in your seats. You breathe a sigh of relief seeing him up close - physically he’s unscathed.

“He’s still alive…” He says. “I’m Adrian.”

“Okay,” Harcourt says simply.

“I’m glad you’re not hurt,” you tell him.

He looks up at both of you sadly over his wire-rimmed glasses. “I think I might have made things worse.”

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

After you drop Harcourt off at her motel, Adrian gets into the passenger seat. You let him give directions to his apartment, even though you already know where he lives.

“This is me,” he says when you pull up to his building and park in the spot you’ve parked in on countless occasions.

“I know.”

“Right. Yeah, you’ve been here.”

“A couple of times, yeah…”

His stupid code. You could know where he lives but never see his face. And now you can’t stop yourself from drinking him in - his slightly stubbly chin from his day spent in prison, the way his curly hair is all messed up. He groans heavily and leans his head back against the headrest. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“The guys know how you ended up in jail - they don’t blame you.” He doesn’t say anything. You search his face as he stares gloomily ahead. “What happened in there, V?” you ask.

“I tried to provoke Peacemaker’s dad into a fight. It worked at first - the Aryans took the bait but his dad saw right through it. I think I’ve fucked up the whole mission.”

So Vigilante went into a viper pit unarmed and provoked a bunch of nazis into fighting him.

Deep down, you know it’s fucked up to be attracted to someone capable of such violence but if you’re honest with yourself, it’s what drew you to him in the first place. You knew about the headlines before you met him. And the idea of him taking on a dangerous prison gang really shouldn’t make your heart pound the way it is right now.

You take a deep, steadying breath. “You don’t have to be sorry about that.”

You’ve never touched his hair before but you want to stroke it and comfort him. Tell him that it wasn’t his fault and it’ll all be okay. But he interrupts your train of thought before you can reach your hand out.

“I meant I’m sorry about us.”

Why is your first instinct to tell him that it’s no big deal that he broke your heart? Stupidly, you want to protect him from it - from the hurt he caused you. Comfort him, put his feelings before your own just because you can tell that right now he needs it.

But it is a big deal.

As soon as you remind yourself he couldn’t trust you enough to let you in, it feels like your heart is shattering all over again, mourning what you could have had.

Trust.

“I told the team your name so they could bail you out,” you admit, desperate to get the fact that you betrayed him off your chest. “I was worried about you locked up in there.”

He turns his head to look at you properly for the first time all night. The streetlights are reflected in his dorky little glasses.

“You knew my name?” He doesn’t look betrayed - he just looks surprised. “How…?”

You lift your finger from the steering wheel to point at his apartment. “Anyone with your address could find out who you are. And your full name appears on my checking account when you cash the checks I write you.”

“So you know… everything?”

“Yup.”

His eyebrows knit together in a plea. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I wanted you to tell me. I wanted you to want me to know.”

“Knowing my secret identity would put you at risk.”

“That bullshit and you know it, V. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Yeah you do - that’s why you had me come with you on jobs.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Then why did you hire me?”

“I was curious about the man behind the headlines, I guess. Then I nearly went broke trying to spend time with you. Do you honestly think I wanted to give you a cut of my contracts for months? ”

He presses his palms into his eyes, pushing his glasses up out of the way and trying to make sense of it all.

“So those jobs were just you finding a reason to hang out?” He drags his hands down his face.

“Well, not at first. But then we started sleeping together after jobs and I wanted to keep doing that.”

“I would’ve wanted to be with you even without those jobs.”

“Oh yeah? You’d have taken me out on a date as Vigilante?” He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again - as if reconsidering whatever he was about to say. “After all that time you still didn’t trust me enough to take off your mask. The last time we saw each other I practically begged you to show me who you are. Then Peacemaker comes back in town and you - what? Just rip off your mask and spill the beans without a second thought?”

“I was being tortured by Goff-”

“The senator tortured you?”

“Well, the Butterfly who had taken over his body. But yeah. He - I mean she - ripped off my mask and tried to cut off my pinky toe. Peacemaker was just there.”

You feel sick thinking about him being tortured. Then you feel sick about feeling sick. It’s not just normal empathy. You want revenge. But you know you shouldn’t care this much. Not when you’ve been broken up for so long.

“Shit, V. That’s horrible.”

“Besides, if I was gonna show someone my face it would have been you. Not Peacemaker.” He looks at you sadly. “I wish you hadn’t left.”

“And I wish you had given me a reason to stay, V. I deserved someone who could trust me. And you… you deserved someone you could be yourself with. We couldn’t be that for each other.”

The hurt on your face is plain for him to see - there’s no point trying to hide it.

“I do trust you. It’s just…” He hesitates. “You’re the only person I know who thought I was cool.”

“Adrian… that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Adrian.

It’s the first time you’ve ever called him that and it makes Adrian’s heart leap. Like the two sides of him have finally met you. After all this time.

“It’s not. Everyone else who knows me as Adrian knows I’m a loser. And I thought if I told you I was a busboy with no friends, you’d think that too.”

“You have friends.”

“Yeah, right.”

“The guys in the video store? They were so worried about you in jail. They like you a lot.” He allows himself a small smile like he doesn’t really believe it. “And I…” You pause. How do you feel about Adrian? “I still think you’re cool.”

“You do?”

He looks at you like he can’t believe you’re actually saying the words he was afraid you’d never say.

“Of course I do. You’re still the masked Vigilante of Evergreen. And I’m just… ordinary.”

He scoffs in amazement. “You’re not ordinary - you’re like the smartest person I know. And you don’t need to hide behind a mask to do your job.

“I’m not that smart.”

“I mean, you found out more about the butterflies than the US government.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile. “Can I tell you something? And you won’t tell the rest of the team?”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I didn’t know what butterflies were until today.” He looks extremely confused so you press on. “I met John in a dark web chatroom when I was researching the missing gorilla. And I thought you guys were looking for it too.”

He laughs. A merciless side-splitting laugh that doesn’t take your embarrassment into consideration at all. But it shows off his beautiful smile. And when you see it you can’t stop yourself from joining in too. It’s so ridiculous. You wanted to find the gorilla, and maybe get your PI business mentioned again in the local paper. Now you’ve been roped into saving the world with a black ops team and Vigilante.

You both try to regain your composure and stare at each other, catching your breath. He shakes his head, grinning.

Christ, look at him.

“I sometimes wondered if you wouldn’t remove your mask because you were just a bad kisser. I mean, I saw your mugshot so I already knew you were pretty.” You can’t help but tell him. You know the grainy photo on his record like the back of your hand but in person, he’s frankly gorgeous.

“Thanks, I know.”

You laugh again. “And modest.”

“You think I fund being Vigilante on a busboy salary? I get a lot of tips.”

“It all makes sense now. The only thing that doesn’t make sense is why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Because she didn’t want to wait around for an idiot who wouldn’t even kiss her.”

You stare at each other in the shadowy silence for a few moments.

“It’s late, we should both get some rest.”

“Wait, don’t go.” His hand touches your thigh and it feels like there’s an electric current buzzing between his hand and the fabric of your jeans. The atmosphere almost crackles, like lighting about to strike in the middle of a storm. It’s the first time he’s touched you since you walked out on him six months ago and never went back. “It’s super late, you should crash at mine.”

“If I come upstairs we both know what’s going to happen.”

He tilts his head and you watch dimples form as the corners of his mouth turn into a mischievous smile. “That’s kind of the idea.”

“A bad one. We need to work together.”

“When has fucking ever stopped us from completing a job?”

“It hasn’t. But when we stopped seeing each other… I was really cut up. I couldn’t concentrate on work for a while. It’s why I needed the reward for the gorilla so badly.”

“Then we just won’t stop this time.”

“Adrian… I’ve only just pulled myself together again. I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do.”

He removes his hand from your leg to unclip his seatbelt.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Adrian gives you an apologetic look.

You stare at his lips. They’re just there. His whole face is out in the open. And now his lips, and the rest of him, are about to leave your car and you never know when you’ll see him unmasked again. He opens the car door.

“Wait -”

He turns back around in his seat.

“Let me find out if you’re a bad kisser. At least I can tell myself I’m not missing out on anything if you are.”

“You’re gonna be so mad…” He cups your face and brushes your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m a really good kisser.”

You smile and his lips meet yours.

It’s nothing like you imagined.

When you had sex it always felt urgent, even dangerous, getting into bed with a masked cape who was wanted for murder. More often than not he fucked you from behind, tugged fistfuls of your hair and slapped your ass.

But his kisses… his kisses are soft and slow. And good.

You’re totally screwed.

He sucks your lip gently and then his tongue traces across yours. You urge yourself forward in the driver’s seat closer to him, bringing your hand up to cradle the nape of his neck and lace your hand in his soft hair.

Warmth spreads in your chest when he deepens the kiss. You secretly hoped he’d be like this when he was unmasked. Your hot and rough encounters were always fun but in your heart you always wanted him to want you like this. Deeply. Reverently.

You break apart and press your forehead against his with your eyes closed, feeling your heart hammering against your chest.

“What’s the verdict?” he asks.

You open your eyes to see his green ones searching yours from behind his glasses. He lets out a long, happy exhale when he hears your seatbelt unclick.

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

Adrian’s bedroom is neat, clean, with framed vintage comic books on his walls and illuminated by a lava lamp on his bedside table. Details you remember from previous visits but barely register this time as you both burst through his bedroom door while he kisses you. Refusing to take his hands from your body, he kicks the door shut behind him forgetting about his injured foot. He regrets it immediately.

“Fuck!” He pulls away and winces.

“Careful,” you soothe, shrugging your jacket off onto the floor and he lifts your shirt off. As soon as your skin is uncovered his mouth finds it. He drags his tongue across your collarbones and between your breasts, nudging the cup of your bra aside so he can find your nipple.

His warm mouth feels almost too good to be true as he sucks on the hard, pebbled skin and moves on to taste every inch of your exposed chest, his deft hands unhooking your bra and tossing it aside quickly.

The entire day could have been a crazy fever dream. You’ve gone from your heart sinking at the very sight of him to it fluttering like crazy as you lie back on his mattress so he can pull your jeans and underwear off.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says, sinking to his knees between your legs at the edge of the bed.

Even though you’re completely naked on his bed while he’s still dressed, you somehow feel less on display than he is right now without his mask. It feels taboo watching his jaw muscles tighten as he works his mouth all over your inner thighs. There’s something so controlled about the way he meticulously kisses the sensitive skin at the crux of your thigh that makes your lip quiver.

You’ve spent enough time around his quick reflexes to know Vigilante is going to be skilled at eating you out but sometimes, especially in the depths of your despair during your breakup, there was a niggling inkling at the back of your mind that the mask might just be a convenient excuse not to.

You had suspected, or maybe even hoped, when you hooked up that he had come really, really close to rolling up the bottom half of his mask and tasting you. More than once, you had caught a fleeting glimpse of him at odds with himself, his eyes behind his visor staring at your pussy and his neck muscles contracting as he swallowed thickly, strengthening his resolve and deciding to protect his own identity instead.

But tonight - finally - his tongue slides between your folds and you let out a low whine when the furnace-hot heat of his mouth besets itself over your clit.

Adrian groans when he tastes your arousal flooding his mouth. His hands cup under your ass as he pulls himself closer. You dare yourself to run your hand through his hair again, your fingernails lightly scratching his scalp. It still feels like it shouldn’t be allowed but he doesn’t seem to mind at all as his lips suck on your swollen clit.

“Fuck, Adrian…” His real name still sounds foreign on your lips, like you have to make a conscious effort to say it.

Adrian looks up at you over his glasses, his pupils wide in the dim violet light of the lava-lamp-lit room. He takes in your glowing face and chest as you lie propped up on your elbows, enjoying the sight of him on the floor between your legs.

His fingers knead the soft, pillowy flesh of your ass like he doesn’t want to let you go anywhere ever again. And you don’t want to. Fuck the mission. Can’t you just stay here forever? In Adrian’s bedroom, panting while his tongue runs firm circles over your clit.

When you roll your hips in encouragement, he lets out a soft little moan sending vibrations over the bundle of nerves - it almost makes you dissolve right there and then.

“I can’t believe I let you… fuck - let you get away with not doing this before,” you whimper. “So - s’fucking good, V.”

“Adrian,” he says and the tiniest absence of friction when his tongue leaves your clit makes your fingers tighten in his hair, urging him to return to your aching pussy.

“Adrianadrianadrian,” you babble, scared that his lips will leave you again. No more V. No more Vigilante. Just Adrian. Here. Eating your pussy like it’s you who’d been depriving him of this for months on end. Pleasure rises deep in your core like the tide getting ready to crash against the cliff face.

Your brain becomes fuzzy as increasingly desperate noises escape your throat - something strangled between a whine and his name. You squirm against his tongue as he relentlessly continues, determined to draw from you the orgasm that you’ve been desperate for since he kissed you in the car and you realised his mouth would feel like heaven.

The pressure of his tongue against your soaking wet pussy makes you writhe in exhilaration. You barely notice his fingers digging harder into your skin as you arch your spine and throw your head back.

Your thigh muscles tense and relax, trembling on either side of his face. “Adrian, I’m gonna - gonna cum…”

Instead of responding, he sinks two fingers deep inside your cunt, giving you something to squeeze around as every muscle in your pelvis tightens. He curls his fingers slightly and it’s just enough to push you over the fucking edge.

The purplish glow of the room turns blinding white as waves, hot and wet, break over you and your body floods with ecstasy. Your whole lower body stiffens as your walls clench around his fingers and you grind your pussy against his mouth.

Fuck, you’ve been missing out. You haven’t been with anyone else the entire time you’ve been apart and it’s like your body has been crying for exactly this moment without you realising how much you needed it. Needed his mouth on you.

The room comes into focus again gradually as Adrian gives you a last few slow, gentle kisses before sliding his fingers out of your still-twitching centre.

You breathe heavily and look at him kneeling on the floor.

He looks stupidly pleased with himself, the corner of his wet, glistening mouth upturned in a self-congratulatory smile at the way he’s taken you apart piece by piece. You can’t help but giggle from endorphins buzzing through your body. It makes your abdomen hurt from all the tensing you were doing.

Adrian slaps the side of your ass and gets to his feet, undoing his belt buckle. “C’mon, bend over,” he grins.

You sit up, shake your head and smile. “Nuh-uh, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum.” He blinks a couple of times dazedly. “Did you forget about your mask for a second?”

Adrian clears his throat. “Uh...No?”

He so did.

“C’mere.” You hook your fingers through his belt loops and pull him closer. You kiss the light trail of hair covering his hard abdomen while your fingers work to undo his jeans and pull them down to release him from the confines of his boxers.

God, you missed it. He has a pretty face alright but his cock is fucking perfect.

Your cheeks grow hot feeling him so close. You grip his hard length and draw your tongue across the tip, tasting the salty bead of precum.

“Take your top off,” you say, looking up at him before running your tongue along his shaft, keeping eye contact.

He grips the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it off over his head. Seeing him in the purple glow, every contour of his sculpted abdomen illuminated sends burning heat to your pelvis. You never thought you were into muscular guys, not until you saw Vigilante take his suit off for the first time. Now you’re not sure if you could go back to anything else. Anyone else.

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock but he interrupts you.

“I need to fuck you. Please.”

At this point, you’re so turned on it’s an offer you can’t refuse. You release him and scoot back on the bed. He goes to crawl on top of you but flinches when his injured foot meets the mattress.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to - ah fuck.”

“It’s okay. Here, lie down. Let me go on top.”

He does so with relief and you swing your leg over his thighs.

“Better?”

“Fuck yeah,” he says, looking at your naked figure sitting on top of him.

You reach into his bedside drawer where you know he keeps his condoms. Your fingers skirt over what you suspect are bags of candy until you find the corrugated square shape you’re looking for. You take it out and roll the condom on him.

“Okay, easy,” you say, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. He throbs under the grip of your hand in anticipation. “Don’t overexert yourself.”

“You were totally cool with me over-exerting myself on the floor a second ago.”

“I was talking to myself,” you smirk. “It’s been a while.”

You ease yourself down onto his cock, feeling the beautiful stretch as you adjust to his size.

“Shit…” he breathes, clamping his hands down hard on your hips, forcing you to bottom out. His eyebrows knit together and he sighs through parted lips, feeling the way your walls stretch around him. He looks so beautiful - you can’t stop looking at his lips.

You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his head so you can lean down and kiss him. The taste of your juices registers on your tongue as his enters your mouth. You deepen the kiss and Adrian responds by jerking his hips up needily, pressing into your g-spot.

You moan and suck on his bottom lip, gently rolling it between your teeth as he pushes into the most sensitive part of your centre. Searing heat burns low in your belly, spreading to your thighs. You push yourself back up to ride him and grab his wrists, dragging them from your waist to grope at your chest.

“Fuck, you look so hot riding my dick.”

“Yeah? Rose-tinted visor isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”

You’re teasing him but it seems to spur him on, as he squeezes your tits and jerks up into your bouncing hips. Every wet slap that meets your ears only increases your neediness for him. It burns brightly in your core, making you wetter and even more desperate for your next orgasm.

Every roll of your body sends his cock plunging into you, pushing against you at the perfect angle. God, he feels incredible. Your walls start to convulse around him, clamping down and gripping his cock as your second climax rears its head.

“Adrian, fuck, I’m close…” you plead, frantically chasing your high, wildly gyrating and bouncing in time with his thrusts.

“Say it again.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“No, say my name,” he says, through gritted teeth, his neck muscles tightening in the soft light.

His neck.

“Fuck, Adrian.” You lunge forward and bite on his neck. He grabs handfuls of your ass, anchoring himself into you as he thrusts savagely upwards sending pleasure rocketing through you. Fuck he’s deep. So fucking deep.

His name leaves your lips over and over, broken and ragged as every jerk of his hip knocks the air out of your lungs. Bliss ignites and your cry of pleasure is muffled as you moan and run your tongue over his neck, smelling his aftershave mixed with his musky sweat. An explosion, more fierce than any grenade blast bursts through your centre as he pummels his cock with unparalleled force and precision, even as you squirm and shake, unable to keep moving your own hips in time with his.

With every ounce of strength you have you lean up on your arms to look at his face. His eyes are squeezed shut and his facial muscles contort as he sucks through his teeth.

“Cum for me, Adrian,” you murmur sweetly in his ear and he opens his eyes, giving you a terminally helpless look as he slams his hips into your hot, wet cunt and you squeeze around him as tight as you can. With a final thrust, you feel his thighs tighten and his cock pulsing inside you as he cums.

You flatten your body back on top of his - the warm, damp sweat between your chests feels strangely pleasant. His fingers trace circles up your spine, gently tickling your back. Adrian turns his head to kiss you and you both lie for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours.

After what feels like a long time of lying in quiet elation, you make yourself climb carefully off of him and roll over, resting back on his pillows.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he says and you lie back watching him dispose of the condom, taking care not to put any pressure on his bandaged toe. He launches himself back on the bed with a thud making you bounce on the mattress. “Good, you’re still here,” he says, leaning on his elbow and looking down at you.

“Where else would I be?” you laugh.

“Well… you usually leave right after. Except that one time I accidentally bought peanut M&Ms.”

You look at him apologetically. In fairness, the mask was hardly an invitation to spend the night - what was he going to do? Sleep in it? “Do you have peanut M&Ms?”

He nods to his bedside drawer and you open it to see that it’s stuffed with the little yellow bags.

“You like peanut M&Ms now?”

He pulls a face. “No way dude, they’re so gross.”

“Then why…?”

“I guess I always hoped you might change your mind and come back. So I bought them whenever I thought about you.”

You look at the drawer - there’s practically enough that Adrian could have made a trail of peanut M&Ms from your apartment across town to his. “You would have made a really sweet boyfriend,” you sigh.

“Well, I mean… I still could,” he says in a would-be nonchalant type of way, pushing up his glasses with his finger and avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah?” You weren’t sure if he’d be open to picking up where you left off. But it feels right when it didn’t before. Now you know him. Really know him.

He pulls his eyes up and meets your gaze with a smile. “If you want me to?”

“I’d like that. A lot.”

“Sweet,” he says with a wide smile, not bothering to hide how giddy he is.

You open the packet. “For the record, I’m not just staying because of the M&Ms this time.”

“I know.”

“And I’m glad you’re on the team.”

He nods happily, watching you pop a few into your mouth. “Hashtag me too.”

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