charmed

Another deep breath. “And you smell good, did I ever tell you that ? You are the coolest. You never yell at me when I forget to fill my timesheet. Hell, last Friday you even helped me with it. And there was a moment when you took my mouse, and you touched my hand, and at the same moment your boob brushed my shoulder and I had the biggest boner I’ve ever experienced. I swear, I think my brain was deprived of blood because all I was able to think was if I turned my head I would have been able to rest my face between your tits and I would have burst in my pants instantly. I think you’ll have to explain to me again the timesheet process.” You listen to him ramble and shift in your office chair. “Do you know that you are my favorite coworker ? My BCF! Please don’t tell P. Or Eagly. I missed you so much this week that I ordered the coffee you like, you know the one with whipped cream and cinnamon ? I didn’t really like it but it was easier to bear your absence when I drank it.” He lets out a long suffering sigh. “Why did you have to leave Evergreen for five days ? I know you are like the superheroine of HR but…” You hear him jump from your chair and slam into your desk. “Dude! You ARE the HR superheroine! I have to sew you a costume. I hope you like teal because I have a shit ton of teal cloth. You’ll look so good in a skinsuit. And, you’ll fight crime with me, but only in HR related cases, like those who harass their coworkers. Or like those shareholders of that company that made a ton of money and laid off hundreds of people. Those guys deserve to be slaughtered.” He starts to hum a tune. Is it the rescue ranger theme song ? It’s like he totally forgot that he was talking to you. 

After a moment, he starts up again. “So funny thing, I was talking about you to Lee, and by the way, I was not at all complaining about the HR colloquium but I said that I wished you were here. And she told me that I should tell you what I feel about you because she’s pretty sure that you have the hoots for me. She told me that she saw you checking out my ass. Which is insane because I checked out your ass too. Dude, that plaid skirt fueled my wanking sessions for a week. Well… Two weeks. A month tops. And she told me that you had a dream about me and the supply closet. Which is kinda hot considering that the “supply closet” is basically an armory. So I had to investigate… To be sure. Hence why I am in your office, to be sure that you like me. I didn’t find your computer password but I think I found something interesting in your calendar. Cute calendar…The kittens in October are so lovely. Kittens in a pumpkin, how cute is that!” He giggles softly and the calendar is rustling while he’s turning the pages. “Ah! Here it is! The ultimate evidence : The month of June!” You can imagine him pacing in your office and making grand gestures like he’s an attorney presenting proofs to a jury. “On the 30th of June : “Adrian's birthday”. Not only, I’m the only coworker whose birthday you noted in your pretty schedule, but also you drew a heart with a V in it.” His voice is cheerful, singing and a little bit mocking. “Tstststs… I think you liiike meee!” 

You know that he’s bouncing from one foot to the other like he always do when he’s happy because the next thing you hear is : “Ah fuck, the room is spinning, I should sit again.” A quiet moan escape his lips. “Mmmh your chair is so comfy, it’s like sitting on a cloud. A cloud with wheels.” There’s a pause. “I don't think I ever saw this picture on your desk, the one of you with your dog. You are gorgeous. Everything about you is perfect. Your hair, your eyes, your lips. Don’t start me about your lips. I’ve stared at them for so long I can see them when I close my eyes. I’m sure they are the softest lips in the world. I have to kiss you to be sure. I bet you taste good. I’m sure you taste like the flavor of that lipstick you keep in your purse, the one with cherries on the cap. I bet you taste like summer. I want to taste you so badly.” He groans. “I need to see your lips wrapped around my cock. Fuck. I’m throbbing. I’m hard since the moment I talked about your boobs earlier. So, uh, yeah. Wait a minute.”

You realize he’s unbuckling his belt by the clinking metal. The characteristic sound of a zipper being opened is followed by the swish of his pants and underwear slowly freeing from his hips. “Aaah, that’s way better. Fuck, i’m dripping so much imagining you. I’ll take you anywhere you’ll have me. In the armory, on your bed, on your desk, even in my cubicule if you want. I just want to touch you. I need to touch your breasts. Ah!” The slow rhythmic sound of his fist pumping his dick is punctuated with low moans. “I’m sure your tits fit perfectly in my hands, I would worship them. I’ll build statues of them around the city. I want to kiss your nipples and graze them with my teeth. I want to bury myself between them, maybe one day you’ll let me paint my cum on your chest. Fuck, I’d be the luckiest man on earth. But you need to come first. Believe me… it’s very important. Oh, God! I need to slow down.” His breath is labored, short intakes of air interlaced with swear words. 

Between whimpers and gibberish, you can hear him moaning your name. “I borrowed some of your hand cream for… You know.” His sentences become increasingly incoherent. “Ah, I need you. I miss you so much. I need you to put on that damn skirt with no panties. Wait no, wear underwear too. I want to keep them . I’ll treasure them like an item I won on a very difficult quest. Princess sexy panties quest. I’ll steal your lingerie and then I will eat you out on your desk. I’ll be good... Ah. I swear I’ll be a good boy. I will let you pull my hair and squeeze my head between your thighs. Fuuuuck. That was close. I was so close but I can’t come yet. I told you. I need you to come first. I need you to come on my face. Please, please … come on my face. Make a mess on me.” His voice is a higher pitch than usual, he sounds delirious. “I’ll use my tongue, my lips, my fingers. I’ll give you everything. Fuck, everything. But I need you to come first. Because after that, I need you to ride me. On this chair.” 

The rhythm of his fist becomes erratic. You can guess he is close. “I need you to straddle me, I need my cock stretching your pussy, slowly filling you up. You will take all of me, I know you will. You'll start slow, so slow, it will be agonizing. And then, then you’ll speed up the pace. Oh, fuck… you ride me so well.” Your poor chair is creaking under the slamming of his hips. “Fuck you’re so beautiful riding me like that. I wish I could hear you now. I’m so loud, Oh… You’ll have to put your hand over my mouth if we do this here. Damn, it’s so hot. One hand on my mouth and one hand on your clit. Can you come again ? I know you can do it. You can do it. Come on. I want you to come on my dick. Please. I need it. I need you.” Fantasy and reality seem totally intertwined now. Adrian is here with you but without you. He’s lost in sensation. “I’m so close. Ah, ah. Please. Please. Can I come in you ? Please. I want to come in you… I know you take the pill. I saw it… Ah… In your cabinet… In your bathroom. I need to come into you but I need… Ah, I need your consent. Please, please. Fuck… Let me fill you.” 

After that, all you can hear is a concert of moans and whimpers. And your name… mostly your name. Repeatedly. Like a chant or a prayer. Then he groans, louder than ever. “Fuck. Holy shit, I just came so fucking hard all over your desk. I’m so sorry.” He’s laughing manically. You know he’s not sorry. “I need to take a picture of this. This is so hot. Like Jackson Pollock but sexier. I’ll clean after. Pinky promise. Oh shit. Dude, I can’t believe I just did that. We have to do this again. But you know, together. Whatever, I’m sending this message. You do what you want. Don’t blackmail me though, it will not be very professional coming from HR. Anyway, I meant what I said. You are my favorite here and I think that I will change the rule of procedure so you won’t have to be sent to the other side of the planet for stupid HR conference. I can’t wait to see you. I miss you.”

“Have you tried cocaine?” you’d asked, a small smirk on your lips.

“What? No! Cocaine is like…” he’d lowered his voice and leaned over the counter, scowling. “Very illegal.” 

Then he leaned back abruptly as if burned, and looked you up and down. “Why? Do you do cocaine?”

“Not my scene,” you’d replied, your turn to lean forward conspiratorially. “But I can make you something just as efficient. We’ll have you practically vibrating out of that little dad outfit of yours in no time.”

And that had been all it’d taken. Six shots of espresso and a criminal amount of vanilla syrup over ice with milk. You’d expected to see his face plastered on the morning news for a caffeine overdose. Instead, he became a regular, always in right before closing. Sometimes he’d stay and chat with you until the shop was closed up for the evening and then he’d insist on walking you to your car. 

Which became you two sitting in your car and talking for hours. 

Which, one particularly cold evening, became you two making out in your car. (You’d finally had to be the one to initiate - Adrian couldn’t pick up on a goddamn signal if his life depended on it.)

Adrian decided you were boyfriend and girlfriend after that, always said with a beam of pride and like it was one big mashed up word: “boyfriendgirlfriend”. As if he was afraid if he didn’t say it fast enough that would be the exact amount of time you’d need to break up with him. You weren’t sure how much say you’d actually had in the matter of becoming boyfriendgirlfriend, but it was weirdly nice, actually. After the last several years of fuckboys and ghosting and “not putting labels on things”. You’d had a gnarly past with dating - you’d probably be a serious contender for Guinness World Record for Most Times Someone Had Been Cheated On. And Adrian knew that. And Adrian Chase was built different. 

Until he wasn’t. 

At first, that was a good thing. 

Sure, he was obsessed with you in a way that was sometimes vaguely disconcerting, but he loved you. Hard. You weren’t sure he knew any other way. He loved his friends hard, too. They were basically all a package deal. You never quite understood how they all became friends? They were like a random grab bag of people flung together by circumstances that were entirely unclear to you, no matter how many times one of them gave you a half-assed explanation.

And really, the problem with Adrian Chase had been a slow build. The issue had always been there, it just became more and more prominent over the year you were together until there was simply no ignoring it. 

He had been hiding something from you. 

You’d never confirmed he was cheating, not like you had with all the others. There was no smoking gun: no incriminating texts accidentally sent to you, no “hey girlie” DM from some stranger, no friend who’d seen him at the club making out with someone else. There was just...something. Something not right.

He’d go radio silent for long stretches of time, which was uncharacteristic of a man who often sent you over 100 texts a day. He’d be evasive about what he was up to when he wasn’t with you or at work. Once, you’d gone to Fennel Fields to drop off his jacket that he’d left at your apartment when he left “for work” only to find he wasn’t scheduled at the middling Italian restaurant at all.

The final straw had been when you’d woken up in the middle of the night to find his side of your bed empty. He didn’t come back for three days. 

Then he’d shown up at your door in the middle of the night, soaking wet from the rain, his eyes brimming with tears, a set of scratches down his cheek. He looked like some cat that had come skulking back to its owner after discovering the alleycat life wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

And you’d hated that his pained expression made you feel anything at all. That your heart squeezed tight when you looked at him. That his choked, desperate pleas had been almost convincing. But you’d learned your lesson the hard way in the past and you weren’t willing to repeat your mistakes. The risk of Adrian breaking your heart all over again was insurmountable.

Worse still was the fact that the anger never came - only the sorrow and the loneliness. You’d stayed awake for nights after, wondering if you’d made the wrong decision. Because Adrian wasn’t like the others…right? He’d adored you. Worshipped you, even. The way he looked at you like you hung the moon and stars…

Either way, he wasn’t being honest with you. You had to hold tight to that certainty.

Adrian Chase: i’m so sorry please forgive me Adrian Chase: i can’t explain but I promise i’d never hurt you

So you’d spent an entire weekend drinking Three Buck Chuck (you didn’t give a flying fuck if inflation made it $4.49, it was still $3 in your heart) and repeatedly washing every fabric in your apartment until none of it smelled even remotely like Adrian Chase. You’d stood numbly over the washing machine, bottle in hand, and willed yourself not to cry.

If only it were so easy to wash your brain clean.

Unknown Number (Possibly: Adrian Chase): you were right to break up with me Unknown Number (Possibly: Adrian Chase): i won’t bother you again

But time heals all wounds, right? And time was certainly making a valiant effort at it. 

Your best friend had made you re-download Hinge, your coworkers at the coffee shop had all consulted on your profile, and you were officially back on the market after much protest and turmoil. Of course, dating would require your heart to be “in it”, which it certainly was not. But some casual dating to take your mind off of things surely couldn’t go amiss.

That was, of course, until Vigilante showed up.

The first time seemed like pure coincidence. 

It just so happened that Vigilante was in a foot chase with some low level criminal or another and ended up knocking over the outdoor dining table you had been sitting at with your first Hinge date. That could happen to anyone! Especially in godforsaken Evergreen.

In the end, it was actually kind of fortuitous that Vigilante had shattered a perfectly good table in your lap. Your date had turned out to be some kind of red pill loser who listened to Andrew Tate like it was mindful meditation. He had just been going on about “low value females” when glass and ceramic and wood exploded and spared you from another second of any of that bullshit. You were…weirdly grateful to Vigilante?

He stood up from the table, dusted himself off and held out the purse to a woman standing breathless on the sidewalk a few feet away. He kicked the purse thief in the ribs for good measure, waved at you and started to take off.

“Wait!”

You weren’t sure why you said it. You stooped to collect the hunting knife that’d fallen off his…utility belt?...and offered it to him. He came back and reached for the knife, but for some reason your fingers had been unable to let go. At the time you’d chalked it up to some kind of panic response - your brain synapses simply weren’t firing correctly. Shock. Or something. It was only later that the real reason became startlingly clear. 

You’d been struck by the odd desire to keep him close. 

“Uh…thanks, citizen?” he said with a clumsy attempt to disguise his voice. You released the knife into his grasp unwillingly.

“Why do you sound like that?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Like what? I don’t sound like anything. I just sound like me. Vigilante.”

“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “Why are you doing a weird voice? You sound like Yoda swallowed Kermit the Frog.”

“That’s…no I don’t!”

You paused for a long moment, trying to place the vaguely familiar insistence in his tone. “We’ve met before.”

“N-no we haven’t,” he said lowly, a tremble in his voice. “Because I - I would definitely remember meeting you.”

It was strange, how you felt a little dejected that he didn’t remember that night. In his defense, it had been over a year. Probably a little after you and Adrian had originally started to become friends, actually. 

You’d been walking home one night and he’d appeared out of nowhere - handed you the earbud you hadn’t realized had fallen out of your pocket about two blocks prior and then just…stayed. Walked you home in a companionable quiet (which you remembered thinking was weird, because all the reports you’d heard and the late night Reddit posts you’d read about him mentioned how chatty he was) and disappeared the moment you were safely in your apartment with the deadbolt slid into place.

At the time you’d thought: he probably did that sort of thing all the time, right?

Of course, now you knew better.

That first date had ended with your date looking back and forth between you and Vigilante, before calling you a “freak bitch” and leaving you splattered in salad dressing with a check to cover.

What, in all likelihood would have technically been the second time Vigilante crashed your date, you’d gotten ghosted instead.

So maybe you decided to have a drink or two while you waited for what had clearly become a total, radio-silent abandonment. And maybe you’d not eaten anything beforehand because it was supposed to be a dinner date. And you’d fucking driven yourself there but your ass would be walking home. 

It was probably for the best - you were pretty sure you’d only matched with the ghoster because he had glasses that reminded you of Adrian. 

Of course Vigilante was standing in the parking lot when you tripped out the front door. You walked straight past him and straight past your car and you didn’t even bother to look to see if he was following. Somehow, you knew he was. 

He fell into step beside you silently, somehow feeling not like a threat, but a gentle comfort. A wordless offer of companionship.

“I imagine you’re not on any dating apps, Vigilante, so you don’t get it, but it’s fucking bleak out here,” you complained. “There are no good men left on this Earth. I finally had one who was good and he still managed to let me down in the end.”

“How?” came the gruff, muffled, accented reply. You stumbled on the uneven sidewalk and your hand flew to his bicep just as his hands wrapped around your waist. You didn’t pull back, you just stared up at him, hoping maybe your drunk self would see something your sober self couldn’t.

“It’s…hard to explain,” you replied, scrunching your brow as you studied his featureless face, head tilted back slightly to look up at him.

“Try me,” he said, his voice painfully soft. For not the first time you wondered what the man under the mask was really like. You reluctantly released your hold on his arm, and, in turn, his fingers drifted away from your waist. You started walking again, weighing whether there was any harm in unburdening your heart to Vigilante.

“Adrian was the first guy I dated who really and truly made me feel loved? Like I never doubted that he adored me. And I think because of that I was willing to overlook some things for a long time. And then suddenly one day I realized he’d disappear a lot, or be vague about where he was or sometimes he was straight up lying to me. And it didn’t matter how much I thought he loved me because his actions proved that maybe I shouldn’t have been so certain,” you explained, really focusing on your words, wondering in the back of your brain if you sounded like a drunk idiot. 

When he didn’t say anything, you continued, “I’ve dated more than my fair share of guys who cheated or fucked around and even though I felt so certain Adrian wasn’t like that, there was still this doubt in the back of my mind that overweighed everything else. Maybe he wasn’t cheating but I’d given people the benefit of the doubt in the past and always been sorry in the end. Cheating or not - which, I’ll be honest, I find really hard to believe he was cheating because of the way he’d…um, actually you don’t need to hear about that! Uh, cheating or not, he was keeping something from me.”

Vigilante’s decisive lack of response kept your drunk mouth running. “I think the worst part is I maybe miss him? Or, not maybe, I know I miss him. I think about him all the time even when I try not to. I even miss his quirks – of which he had many, let me tell you! But I guess that’s what happens when you love someone that much. And now I’m worried maybe that was the best it’ll ever get for me and it’s gone and I fucked everything up forever.”

You could feel his gaze on you but you didn’t indulge it. You were too busy thinking about the thing you knew you shouldn’t say, the most painful, stupid, ugly part of it all. “The worst part is that it makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me? That there’s something inherently unlovable about me baked into my DNA or something. Why else would all these guys cheat on me, or lie to me, or whatever? Like there must be something fundamentally wrong with me. I’m the common denominator.”

You felt his gloved hand scrape at your elbow, fingers pressing into the skin firmly. 

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” came his quiet reply finally, his voice strangely ragged. You squinted up at him. 

“Yeah, well, why would you?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“I…wouldn’t,” he replied slowly, before nodding emphatically.

“Right…”

“Right.”

You weren’t totally sure if he was being confusing or you were just drunk? Maybe both?

You turned and found yourself at your apartment door. You blinked for a moment - you’d been so preoccupied you didn’t even remember marching up the stairs. Wait, did it mean that he did remember walking you home all those months ago? Or you’d just led him right straight there. Again. A total psycho knew where you lived.

“Good night,” he said suddenly in that stupid put-on voice. Your heart leapt into your throat anyway. Were you that desperate? 

“Good night, Kermit Yoda,” you taunted, flashing him a smile as you closed the door and you definitely didn’t wobble on your feet. You made an auditory show of dramatically flipping the deadbolt and sliding the chain lock into place. 

“Fuck.” You heard him whisper from the other side of the door in a voice that sounded much more real than the one you’d come to know. There was a small thump and you wondered if you looked through the peephole you’d see his forehead resting against the door. 

You decided it was better not to know.

You leaned with your back against the door and pulled out your phone. Against your better judgment, you scrolled through your old texts until you found the Unknown Number (Possibly: Adrian Chase) thread that you’d been so good about not looking at. Mostly. You hadn’t had the heart to block him, but you’d deleted his number to remove the temptation. And true to his word he hadn’t bothered you again.

You dragged your thumb along the edge of the screen as you debated. Maybe there would be no harm in just…checking in on him? You were still somehow unaccustomed to the total lack of him in your life after a year that was so full of him. You’d find yourself missing him in tiny ways over and over again, even if you were loathe to admit it. There was a stupid, Adrian Chase sized hole in your heart. 

Your other hand drifted into the waistband of your jeans. What if you opened the door and invited Vigilante inside to fill something else of yours? Maybe you could bite into one of those biceps of his and convince him to let you call him Adrian.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. What the fuck was wrong with you? You pulled your hand from your pants, closed your messages and opened Hinge instead. 

The second time (ghosting date notwithstanding) was perhaps the strangest of all.

It was quick drinks at a bar downtown before he suggested you two hit the club. You could tell what he was after the moment you’d laid eyes on him, but you didn’t mind. You’d been meaning to fuck Adrian Chase right out of your system (and apparently Vigilante, too) and your date was easy on the eyes, if a little smarmy. You could deal with that if it meant getting railed so hard you forgot your own name. Though, if you were judging by the rhythm of his hips as he grinded against you, you might be out of luck on that front.

“Club’s a front for drug smuggling!” a familiar voice called as it passed you, so casual your brain didn’t process it until a moment later. You barely had time to react before Vigilante was pulling a gun and executing the club owner right in front of everyone. Your mouth dropped open and for a second you swore he was turning back to look at you, like he was looking for your approval.

Then, the club burst into understandable chaos. People went running for the door, shouts filling the room in lieu of music. Someone knocked straight into you and you hit the deck hard. You managed to get yourself onto your knees (the drink-slick floor was not agreeing with your choice of shoewear) when your date’s hand appeared in front of you. You grasped onto it, grateful for your only lifeline, and opened your mouth to thank him when you realized rather suddenly that the hand was gloved and attached to the rest of fucking Vigilante.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding strangely breathless.

You yanked your hand out of his and scowled at him. “That was really fucked up.”

“I thought you said drugs weren’t your scene,” he snipped back. Was that some sort of accusation? It felt loaded with a meaning you couldn’t quite parse. The club music was still blasting and you’d just watched Vigilante kill a man in front of your very eyes. Your brain was…not thinking clearly. 

Still, it reminded you of something distant. Or someone.

“What?”

“Nothing!” he exclaimed. Then he looked over his shoulder and you both processed that the dead club owner’s security seemed to be getting themselves together, hands reaching into jackets for what you could only imagine were concealed weapons. He spun you around and pushed you towards the door. 

“Oh! I ordered you an Uber: silver Honda Civic, license plate JG8566, Jamil has a 4.9 star rating. Get home safe!” he chattered at you before pushing you out the front door and onto the sidewalk. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind you. 

The driver of a small Honda Civic waved at you from across the street. He poked his head out the window. “Uber for Vigilante?”

You looked around furtively to see if anyone had heard him and then with a hearty sigh you stepped off the curb.

The third time was the time that really pushed you over the edge.

Your new date had taken you to one of those trendy places-of-the-week that filled a niche so specific you weren’t sure how they sustained a business on “boutique rice pudding”. As it turned out, they didn’t. In fact, it turned out that Rice to Riches was a money laundering scheme. 

A money laundering scheme that Evergreen’s own Vigilante had taken upon himself to break up right in the middle of your date. He’d breezed right in the front door, waving at you as he passed. For a moment you presumed you were actively hallucinating. But the sound of a fight in the kitchen had you realizing otherwise. You listened to the sound of fists hitting flesh over and over and by the time your brain was able to properly have the feeling that you should definitely leave, Vigilante was standing at your table.

“Hey!” He was still doing the stupid voice, apparently. 

“Hi?”

“So, just a heads up this place was a money laundering front.”

“Okaaaay,” you drawled, uncertain of how you were supposed to respond to that info. “You know, a heads up usually comes before you murder a bunch of people.”

“Oh, I didn’t murder anyone. They’re just uhhhhh out cold. Tied up,” he replied in a way that was utterly unconvincing. 

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. You turned to your date to say something but he was white as a sheet, his fingers still gripping his spoon while his mouth hung open, slack jawed. 

“Are you on a date?” he asked flippantly, examining the fingers of his gloves as if he were casually looking at his nails. 

“Yes?”

“You sure go on a lot of dates.”

Wait a minute, did Vigilante think you were a slut?

“Three dates is not a lot of dates. And, not that it’s any of your business but…I’m trying to get back out there after a really shitty break up. Is that a fucking crime?”

His sure-fire posture shifted slightly and he crossed his arms over his chest. Your gaze caught on his biceps and suddenly your fingers itched with the memory of them. God damnit. “Maybe it should be.”

Your brow furrowed. Was he fucking pouting? You were indignant, and feeling a little reckless. “Well, then, Vigilante, go on - put that dumbass sword on your back to good use and kill me.” 

“Uh…do you two know each other?” your date asked. You blinked at him dumbly - you’d forgotten he was there. 

“No!” you and Vigilante snapped at the same time. You stared hard at him, trying to make out anything beyond that stupid red visor of his. 

“Look, you seem nice but this has been deeply weird, sooo I’m gonna go,” your date said, but not before taking his rice pudding with him. You couldn’t blame him - for a money laundering scheme the pudding was really good.

You whipped back towards Vigilante as the bell sounded over the front door and the only person with a lick of common sense in the scenario fled the scene.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you demanded. You clarified before he could shrug it off, “Why are you so hell bent on ruining all my dates?”

He laughed, an awkward, strained sound that devolved into a cough as he clearly tried to disguise the sound. “Um, selfish much?”

“Excuse me?”

“You really think the world revolves around you so much that I’m specifically trying to interrupt your little dates or whatever?” he scoffed, apparently intent on doubling down on his unusual attempt at indifference. “I’m a little busy fighting crime to worry about your inept dating life, dude.”

You narrowed your gaze at him, almost positive he was lying. But the alternative did seem insane. He sighed. “What possible reason could I have for wanting to keep you from dating?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” you admitted. What else were you meant to say? There was no proof, not really. But you didn’t believe in coincidences.

“Oh, so he’s like…in love with you?” your friend said when you’d finally finished recounting the strangest weeks of your life.

Coffee threatened to spill out of your nose as you choked, “What?”

One of your regulars piped up from their usual table by the counter. “Oh, yeah, no I agree. It sounds like he’s totally in love with you.”

“On what planet is he – oh my god, there’s no way, guys!” you argued, even if the sinking feeling in your stomach said otherwise. Was it possible? And if it was – why? Why you?

You waved them both off. “He doesn’t even know me.”

Even if you were unconvinced of some kind of undying love you were convinced that it was all on purpose. Fate had often been unkind to you in the past, but it was a level of sadism that even you could not believe existed naturally in the universe. 

And all of it – the failed dates, the weird, strangely intimate encounters, the skin-crawling feeling of being followed, the gnawing feeling of familiarity – had led you to a totally logical, reasonable plan: set a trap for Vigilante. 

So maybe you’d spent maybe a little too much time planning it. Thoroughly vetting the restaurant, the people who ran it, pouring through social media accounts and a background check on your date - certifying that there was no off-hand excuse for Vigilante to crash your date.

No crimes, no drug fronts, no nefarious owners. Just an above-the-board night out with a nice guy. It was your own little challenge to him, a desperate bid to prove your theory right. If he crashed this date you would know for sure that this wasn’t just some weird cosmic intervention and that he was doing it on purpose. 

“Are you okay?” your date asked. Alex? Andrew? Adrian? (NO, definitely not.) Fuck. What was his name again? “You seem a little…distracted.”

You dragged your gaze back to him and put on a carefully practiced smile. “I’m so sorry. I am distracted, you’re right. And that’s not fair to you.”

“Anything I can help with?” he offered with a lift of his brows and a small tilt of his head. He took a sip of his drink, waiting for you to fill in the blanks for him. Adam! Adam seemed…nice. And you were…toootally blowing him off. You sighed, defeated, and smiled apologetically. 

“It’s going to sound crazy,” you started, raking your hands over your face.

Adam smiled. “Try me.”

You shifted slightly in your seat. “Okay, so you know Vigilante?”

“Vaguely? The costumed maniac who works with Peacemaker and is somehow not in jail?”

You chuckled. “That’s the one. Well, uh, I think he might be – ” In love with me? But you figured that was not the right thing to say on a first date. Was the alternative really much better? “Stalking me?”

Adam choked on his sip of wine. “What?”

“Or it’s total, weird karmic coincidence that he just keeps showing up where I am!” you offered. Adam’s head tilted slightly to the side, bewilderment written across his handsome features. 

“How many times has this happened exactly?”

“Four. Give or take. Not counting the time he walked me home like a year ago.”

“Sorry, Vigilante walked you home?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, I know how it sounds.”

Adam’s eyes studied you for a moment before he turned and flagged your waiter down. Damn it, you thought, he doesn’t even need to be here to ruin dates for me. Maybe you’d have to store the Vigilante card in your pocket for some bad date down the line. 

But instead, Adam leaned back in his chair and smiled at the waiter. “I think we’re going to need another glass of wine. And what’s the best dessert you’ve got?”

When the waiter disappeared to fetch both things he leaned his elbows on the table. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

Outside the restaurant you two did the awkward dance between lingering and saying good night once and for all. With both your rides ordered the two of you stood waiting, close together. (It was cold! Who could blame a girl?) Adam reached up and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Listen, I’m really hoping I don’t get a visit from Vigilante later for this, but, uh, can I kiss you?” Adam asked. His sandy hair was given an orange halo by the streetlight above you both. He really was handsome in a sort of everyman kind of way. Considerate, kind, easy to look at and not Vigilante – you nodded. His lips pressed against yours gently and something that felt almost like guilt twisted in the base of your stomach. 

When his car rolled up first he offered to stay with you but you’d waved him off. “Can’t lose you to Vigilante, now can I?”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek and made you promise to text when you got home safe. The second his car disappeared around the block your driver cancelled on you. You’d already waited an eternity and getting a rideshare in downtown Evergreen on a Friday night was a nightmare scenario. Besides, the walk would be good for you. There was plenty to think about on the way home. Like…

Where the fuck was Vigilante?

Maybe you were back to the drawing board entirely. You’d been so convinced he was doing it on purpose, but maybe you’d been wrong? Maybe it really was just all coincidence? What a weird, specific curse to have upon you. 

And then you heard the footsteps behind you.

The feeling of being followed was familiar now, unfortunately expected, but when you whipped around the very clear glint of a knife pointed at you, well…that was new.

“Oh!” you managed to squeak out. It wasn’t Vigilante at all. Instead, you were face to face with some guy who was very clearly trying to mug you. 

“Jesus Christ,” you sighed.

“Give me your purse, bitch!” 

You raked a hand over your face. “Please don’t do this. I’ve been having a really shitty few months and I’m - ”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Listen, asshole, I’m just trying to warn you. Vigilante has been stalking me so you probably don’t want to fuck with me.”

You didn’t think you’d get to play the card so soon! A strange delight unfurled in your gut. Maybe invoking his name would somehow finally make him appear. Your life in danger would be his very own Bat Signal. 

The man faltered slightly before tightening his grip on his knife. “Why would Vigilante be stalking you?”

“You know, man with knife, that’s a really good question,” you said, nodding thoughtfully. The strange sense of calm running through you really should have been more alarming. You felt yourself take a step towards him and his expression shifted into pure confusion. Maybe that was good. Maybe you could actually handle this yourself. Maybe this was like when people gave advice to out-freak your would-be attacker. Maybe –

A single gunshot silenced the rest of that train of thought. Hot blood splattered against your clothes, your cheek, in your slightly open mouth.

“Oh my god,” you managed, frozen for just a moment before bending to spit onto the sidewalk. You lifted the hem of your sweater to your mouth to scrape the taste of blood out of your mouth while you tried desperately not to gag.

“Nice! I’ve been looking everywhere for this guy!” Vigilante cheered, a slight hop in his step as he crossed the street to where you stood.

“Are you okay?” he asked, giving your shoulder a slight nudge with his own. You at least had the good sense to recoil from his touch. His hands shot up to shoulder height, palms towards you in a show of reassurance.

“Sorry! I was running a little late. Did I miss your date?”

“Yeah, you did,” you replied, realizing a moment too late that you sounded a little disappointed. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with you? “I even got a good night kiss. Which, before you say anything, is not a crime.”

Tension visibly rippled through Vigilante’s muscles. “Was he…was he good to you?”

“He was very nice.”

“That’s it? Just ‘very nice’? Sounds kind of lame to me!”

“Well, he’s not you.”

“Not me good, or not me…bad?” he asked quietly. 

You faltered a moment, genuinely unsure. Sure, the stupid, depraved thought had been knocking around in your head for a little while now. That while Vigilante was actively ruining your dating life, at least he was somewhat consistent. At least he showed up for you. And maybe there was something kind of hot about the mask now that you thought about it.

God damnit, you really needed to get away from him before you did something stupid. So, you continued walking towards your apartment, thinking maybe he’d have to stay behind to deal with the body. But instead he just followed along with you like some hapless dog.

“For one thing, he didn’t just murder someone in front of me again,” you said instead of really answering the question.

He put his hands on his hips. “That guy was going to hurt you. You’re telling me you would have preferred I let him stab you in the face over a purse? That would be a total waste of a really good face.”

“No! I’m not saying that, I’m saying…fuck I don’t know, Vij,” you sighed. He froze, a particular tension to his posture. But your brain was busy playing catch up with the fact that he’d said you had a…good face? 

“Say that again,” he murmured. Something was so, so familiar about the cadence, the desperation. An impossible thought prickled at the back of your mind and you batted it away.

“Say what again?” you asked.

“Call me Vij. I like it when you say it.”

A shudder rolled down your spine, involuntary and unwelcome. You struggled against the feeling settling in your gut. “Not until you admit that you’ve been trying to ruin my dating life.”

“Why would I admit that?” he scoffed. “Or, um, I mean, uhhh…I told you before, I think that’s a really self-centered way of looking at the world. To assume that just because I happen to show up at all your dates and they happen to be interrupted or end badly while I’m around doesn’t mean that I’m doing it on purpose! And actually, as a feminist, I find that kind of assumption offensive.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yes, really! I think all women should be allowed to date whoever they want!”

“All women?” you asked.

“Mhmm!”

“Even me?” you continued to press.

His shoulders shifted slightly. “Yup!”

“And so I should be able to fuck whoever I want as much as I want?”

His entire body went stiff as he seemingly tried to force himself to nod.

“For sure. Yes! Definitely! Go off, diva! Have sooooo much sex. Like maybe even have too much!” he rambled. You just stared at him with wide eyes. Then he laughed sharply, and the familiarity of it ran through your whole body. There was no way… “I mean, can one even have too much sex? Probably not!”

You tilted your head slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Can I admit something?” he asked, the question bursting out of him like he’d been biting his tongue, his voice sounding strained. He waited for your sharp nod before he continued, “I’ve been trying to ruin your dating life.”

You faltered. “What?”

“Yeah, ha, you totally caught me!” He scratched at the back of his neck and again that sense of familiarity ran through you like ice in your veins.

“You know, my friends think it’s because you’re totally in love with me.”

His head tilted slightly and you would have given anything to see the expression on his actual face. “Oh! Well, probably because I am.”

For a moment you could practically smell the short-circuiting happening in your brain. “You…huh?” 

He shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other as you both stood at the bottom of your apartment complex stairs. “Sorry, I thought it was obvious?”

“Why else are you doing all this?”

“Is love not enough these days?” he joked breathlessly. 

Something like panic started to crawl down your spine. You had, of course, considered the possibility, but faced with the simple truth of it you didn’t know what to do or say. So you did the only thing you could think of in the moment - you turned wordlessly and walked up the steps towards your apartment. You fished your keys out of your bag, fingers brushing over the lock before you turned back around to look at him one more time. 

It was a mistake. 

You couldn’t believe it. You were about to do something so, so fucking stupid. But the theory brewing in the back of your mind needed to be accounted for. 

“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?” 

No sooner had you asked then Vigilante ducked his head down and pressed his mouth to yours, fabric scraping at your chin. You made a noise of surprise, muffled against his mask, as he pushed you back against your front door. All you could taste was polyester and sweat and something metallic. His tongue tried to lick desperately into your mouth but was constrained behind the fabric, now wet and sticking to your skin and his. It was entirely unsatisfying, frustrating even, but still you couldn’t deny the warmth spreading in your stomach. 

So you slid your fingers up his suit until you were prying at fabric, pushing it up until his hands grabbed your wrists firmly and made you stop. He pinned your arms down at your sides but still you leaned back to examine the small stretch of canvas he’d allowed you, taking in the pale expanse of his neck, the very bottom of his face. Even in the dim light something about it was familiar.

You leaned forward and peppered kisses to his exposed skin until you reached his uncovered mouth and waited. He surged forward, kissing you for real this time - nothing but wet lips and eager tongues and hot breath and his hands fisted into the fabric of your shirt as he yanked you against him and – oh. 

You pulled back.

“What the fuck?” you panted. If you’d felt insane moments before, you now felt the Earth had completely flipped on its axis the moment your lips had touched his. 

Because you knew that mouth. 

“Adrian?” 

“Um…who?” he attempted. 

“Take the mask off right now,” you ordered, pulling away from his grasp. 

“I can’t, I, uh, well, I’d have to kill you! If you saw my face! Because, you know - secret identity,” he scrambled. Oh my god. How had you not realized it sooner? You really were a fucking idiot.

“You won’t kill me,” you said firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You don’t know that!”

“I do. And besides, I already know what your face looks like, Adrian Chase,” you snapped.

He looked frantically over his shoulder. “Can we please talk about this inside?” 

“Why the fuck would I let Vigilante inside my apartment?” you asked. 

“C’mon, please don’t be like that,” he whined. 

“Like what? Seriously, tell me why I should let a stranger who is a murderous superhero wannabe into my home,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. “I’ll wait.”

“I don’t wanna be pedantic but you did just let Vigilante put his tongue in your mouth, so, I’m not really sure what the difference is?”

You stood your ground. You just wanted to hear him admit it. Because you knew him and you knew he’d cave.

“Fine! Fuck! It’s me, Adrian!” he exclaimed in a rather loud whisper. You rolled your eyes at him and he reached up to take the mask the rest of the way off.

“Jesus Christ, don’t! Don’t do that out here, you idiot!” you gasped and reached up to stop him. You cursed under your breath as you unlocked your door and then dragged him inside, your fingers hooked under the chest plate of his suit. With the door closed behind him and the lock safely in place, Adrian reached up and pulled the mask off with a gasp.

He stared at you with those wide, bright green eyes of his and smiled from ear to ear. “See, you do care about me still!”

You shifted uncomfortably and avoided his gaze directly. You knew exactly what it was like to fall into those eyes and you weren’t totally convinced you’d be able to climb your way back out. 

“No, I care about my nosy neighbors seeing me with a wanted criminal.”

“Sure,” he agreed, clearly sarcastic. He fished his glasses out his pocket and slid them onto his face. For some reason, seeing your Adrian - glasses and all - in the Vigilante suit was more befuddling than it was before. Worse still, it was also strangely arousing.

And then it hit you like running headfirst into a brick wall.

This is what he’d been hiding the whole time. 

“Why?” you asked, somehow the only word you could seem to muster.

“You’re gonna have to be a little more specific…”

“Why the fuck were you lying to me about this, Adrian?”

“I mean, not to be technical but I was lying to you about other stuff. You never asked me if I was Vigilante!”

You rolled your eyes and groaned. “Well, pardon me for not thinking to ask if my boyfriend is the psychopath running around Evergreen killing people for minor infractions! Adrian, you’re weird but you’re like…sweet weird. You don’t exactly give off psycho-killer vibes.”

“Qu’est-ce que c’est?”

You punched him straight in the arm. “Please be serious right now!”

“Sorry! I couldn’t help it! That song is so funny. Because like, what is this, you know? They’re really asking the right questions.”

“I cannot believe I spent a year dating you,” you sighed.

“Hey!”

“You don’t get to ‘hey’ me! You’ve been living a double life for…wait, was it the whole time we were together?”

Adrian chewed at his lower lip. “Maybe.”

“Adrian!”

“Yeah, okay, the whole time we were together and also like…for a while now.”

Your mind was reeling, trying to deal with the puzzle pieces and details and – oh yeah, the gnawing of your own presumed morality at the back of your brain. The man you loved was a killer. And maybe you loved the killer, too.

“When you disappeared for three days were you…doing Vigilante shit?”

“Oh, ha! Yeah, I was on a super serious top secret mission,” Adrian laughed. Then he took in your expression and he, too, sombered. “I wanted to tell you then. I wanted to explain. That night on your doorstep I planned to…um, but when I came back…when you told me we were breaking up, that you couldn’t trust me, I…I think it broke something in my brain. But I also realized you were right to break up with me. That actually you’re safer when you’re not dating me. I couldn’t live with myself if someone were to somehow trace me back to you. But then I realized that I could protect you as Vigilante, even if I couldn’t protect you as Adrian.”

“I didn’t want to break up with you, you know that, right?” you asked quietly. Something like a glimmer of hope flashed in his bright green eyes. “But I had to protect my heart.”

“What if…do you think there’s a chance you could let me protect that, too?” he asked, voice quiet and unsteady. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

“Is that what you think you’ve been doing this whole time? Protecting me?” you asked, genuinely trying to understand the way his clearly warped brain worked.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but you do. You deserve the world. Because you’re not the common denominator in a sea of shitty men. You’re like a bright star that everyone is drawn to. And bright lights attract some losers, too and…I think I’m losing track of the metaphor but all I really mean to say is: you’re exceptional.”

Call it weakness, call it stupidity, call it what it was: a kindling breath on a flame you’d tried desperately to snuff out. You loved him.

It was unclear if it was you who leaned forward first or him but either way you found your head pressed against his chest, his arms sure and firm around you. 

“I have to ask — how did you know it was me?”

“I had my suspicions,” you laughed. Though clearly not enough. “But I knew for certain the second my lips touched yours.”

Adrian well and truly cackled. He lit up all over, exactly the same man you’d fallen in love with the first time you’d met him. Just with a little…more than you could have conceived of before. Maybe you weren’t ready to admit it to him quite yet, but a part of you clamored to get to properly know Vigilante, too. There was a whole new, strange, thrilling part of Adrian Chase for you to discover.

“I can’t believe you recognized my mouth, dude! That’s kind of insanely romantic if you think about it!”

“Yeah, I’m actively choosing not to think about it, thanks!” you retorted. Then, because for some reason you couldn’t help it, “I mean, I’m very familiar with that mouth’s work, it would be a crime if I didn’t recognize it.”

“Are you flirting with me right now?” Adrian asked, the question half a gasp, half a squeal of excitement.

“No! I don’t know! Maybe a little bit! Fuck! I can’t help it.” You scrubbed at your face with both hands like maybe you’d be able to wipe it all away. “It’s like…in me, you know?”

“What is?”

“Everything about you. I see your face and it’s like you’re hardwired in my skull and in my heart. I could have gone on one hundred dates or none and it wouldn’t have made a difference at all, because none of them were you!” you exclaimed, breathless. You knew Adrian well enough to know you were maybe being too flowery for his very literal brain to fully comprehend.

“Me Adrian or me Vigilante?” he asked, surprising you.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze and then gave a defeated shrug. “Both, I think.”

“Fuck, I think that’s the nicest and the coolest and the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Adrian murmured. He pulled you tight against him by the hips. “Can I kiss you again? I think I need to or else I’ll die.”

You answered him by pressing your lips to his, his chin captured in your hand, fingers pressed firmly into the skin – just enough pressure, not too much or too little for dear, sweet, Adrian. You kissed him hungrily, which seemed to take him delightfully by surprise, if the noises he made were anything to judge by. His tongue scraped over your teeth, and you bit at his lower lip and pulled. His fingers pressed so hard into your hips you thought they might bruise and you also thought you didn’t give a fuck. Adrian’s mouth travelled from your lips to your jaw to your neck. He sucked at the skin just below your ear and you knew he was trying to mark you as his. That was the question, wasn’t it? Were you willing to be his again, knowing what you know? 

It was utterly incongruous: your perception of Adrian, the man you’d loved and practically lived with for an entire year versus Vigilante, a man you knew to be a totally cold-blooded, obsessive killer. Did it make a difference if it was in the name of justice? You had seen on the news when he’d been involved with saving the planet from those butterfly alien things with Peacemaker. How was he the kind of guy who could play D&D for hours, and talk incessantly about Pokemon, and kiss you so gently, and also the kind of guy who kicked criminal ass with no remorse and saved the planet from alien invasion?

“What are you thinking?” he asked, pulling back suddenly. He had that gentle, focused look in his eye that you knew all too well. 

“I think I should probably be scared of you,” you replied honestly. His tight hold on you loosened almost imperceptibly, but still you felt it. Of course you did.

“I would never hurt you,” he whispered. “Please believe me.”

“I do. And, I also think you’ve permanently fucked up the wiring in my brain,” you grumbled against his mouth.

“Does this mean we’re getting back together?” he asked, and you could practically feel the excitement of the idea thrumming through his body. 

“Maybe,” you offered. He deflated slightly. “If we’re going to try and figure this out then there’s no more secrets between us, okay?”

Adrian nodded. “Sick! I mean, now you basically know all my secrets. Except, I guess, about all the drugs and blood money in my basement.”

“The what now?”

He darted forward and peppered your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks with kisses. Somewhere between them all he managed to say, “Thank you for giving me another chance. I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

“Hard to miss someone when you’re stalking them, Adrian,” you reminded him.

“But I miss you every time I blink,” Adrian breathed, wide-eyed and stupidly adorable and achingly earnest. Your fingers itched for every part of him but you refrained, hooking your fingers into the chest plate of his Vigilante armor. 

“I need to hear you say it – no more secrets. We are both totally honest with each other, for better or worse,” you demanded.

Adrian nodded, a wide grin on his lips. “I’ll never keep anything from you ever again. You can trust me, I promise. In fact, I promise on Peacemaker’s life! He’s the only thing I cherish in this life even remotely close to you, so you know I mean it. If I was gonna swear on the most important thing, well, that would be you, but I figured that’s a little counterproductive to the whole swearing on something thing.”

When you kissed again it wasn’t hungry any more. It was slow, it was deep, it was an acknowledgment that you had all the time in the world. Your fingers wove into his curls and pulled tightly, just the way you knew he liked. Because you knew him. He groaned his approval into your mouth and he wrapped around you, practically enveloping you. The next thing you knew his hands were under your ass and he was supporting you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He carried you effortlessly towards your bedroom, pausing along the way to press your back to the wall and kiss you even deeper, his fingers needy and clumsy at the hem of your shirt. His fingers, still gloved, scraped across the skin of your stomach, reacquainting themselves with familiar territory. 

His lips didn’t leave yours the entire time, even as he carried you to your bed and laid you down like the most precious thing on the planet. He leaned over you, hands pressed into the mattress, you hooking your fingers into the straps on the front of his suit to try and pull him as close as humanly possible. Things blurred into a hot, slow, haze of Adrian. 

Suddenly, you drew back with a gasp, both desperate for air and with another gnawing question on your tongue.

“Wait wait! You didn’t kill any of those guys I went on dates with, right?”

“Only the first one,” he said with a kind of severity that sent a chill down your spine and had you anticipating the feeling of him between your thighs in equal measure. Then you realized, somewhat dreamily, that Adrian already was in between your thighs. So you squeezed your legs around him tighter – you weren’t letting him go again. Adrian Chase really had ruined you forever.

“And what crime did he commit?” you asked against his mouth, your arms snaking around his neck.

“Being an asshole to the person I love most in the world.”

Then he unhooked your legs so he could slide down your body until he was kneeling at the edge of your bed. His fingers made quick work of your pants and yours pressed into the mattress as he made himself at home between your thighs like no time had passed at all.

Adrian watched you sleep for some time, your limbs tangled with his, you asleep in one of the oversized shirts he’d left behind, the poster of Fargo printed across your chest. The evening had gone better than he could have ever planned. And he had done a lot of planning. 

Sure, he hadn’t anticipated your date kissing you, but it didn’t even bother him anymore. But he’d heard what that stupid guy had said to you while he was hidden out of sight. 

Can’t lose you to Vigilante, now can I?

Now the mugger had been a total coincidence but one that made him look so cool and tough. He’d saved you from death, not just a shitty date with some stupid guy! Extra points for Vigilante! He’d high five himself if he could.

Adrian moved slowly, making sure not to disturb you in the slightest. He got distracted for a long moment just watching you sleep peacefully, a ghost of a smile on your beautiful mouth.

When he slipped back into the bed he had the Vigilante mask on and your phone in his hand. He cuddled up behind you and then tucked his chin into the crook of your neck. He ensured the flash was off and then took a picture. He opened your texts and found Adam (Hinge) with ease.

He attached the photo and then, smiling from ear to ear, typed:

You lose.

breaking up is hard to do taglist: @sideblogmeanz @danversxwasabi @countvonklit @tlfg-adrianchase @bunch-of-bens @lovenerdywhitemen2 @morguegrl89

gen adrian taglist: @countvonklit @tlfg-adrianchase

“Yeah, but that's because someone was in the bathroom for like… an eternity.” Economos pushes his glasses up. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Piss your pants, dude. Duh.” Chris says, chuckling. Adrian bursts out laughing and Chris raises his eyebrows at him.

“We have recon tonight.” Harcourt checks her watch. “You two stay here for now. Meet us there at 2100 sharp. The rest of us need to go now and set up.”

“Where?” Economos groans.

“Bill Carey's gala is tonight… what did you think we were doing?” Her lip curls.

“I don't know, something fun for once?” John mutters.

“No, these two get to have all the fun…” Adebayo nods at you and Adrian.

“I don’t want to wear a tux to some crack pot lawyers party.” Adrian deflates, grimacing.

"That crack pot lawyer happens to be working a case we need intel on." Harcourt says.

“Make sure he looks the part.” Harcourt orders you. “Get in, plant the bugs, and get out.” Her eyes flick to Chris when he huffs.

“What's your problem?” Harcourt groans.

“I just really… thought I would be the best fit to go undercover.” Chris says quietly, obviously irritated he's not going to be in the thick of the action.

“Chris - anyone with half a brain will recognize you from a mile away.” She gestures to you and Adrian. “No one knows these two.”

He crosses his arms. “Fine…”

“Good.” She shakes her head. “We're taking the van.”

Harcourt points to the stack of reports. “Adrian, finish your work... you have reports there from three months ago.”

“But it's stupid..." He whines. "Why are we creating a written record of all the highly illegal shit we're doing and the people we've maimed and killed?” He scoffs and crosses his arms.

“It's a government job, you know what they're famous for...”

"What's that?" Adrian asks. She rolls her eyes at his blank stare.

“Just… fucking do it.” She finishes and grabs the keys to the van. The others stand and file to the door after her.

“Paperwork, dude. Red tape… bureaucratic bull shit. That's what our government jobs are famous for.” Chris shakes his head in wonderment.

“I thought it was famous for killing people." Adrian mutters.

“No, that's what you're famous for, Adrian.” Chris raps his knuckles on the desk and shoots a thoughtful glance at you.

“Take care of him.” He winks and closes the door to HQ behind him.

Adrians eyes flick up to you when they're all out the door.

“So, you couldn't sleep?” His lips twitch at the corners into a pensive smile.

“Not really." When you did finally fall asleep, a noise at your window woke you up in the middle of the night. But you live on the 3rd floor. You shake your head. “I thought I heard something, but it was probably nothing.”

He shrugs. “I never sleep much.”

“Really? Why not?” You're curious.

His lips twitch down for a fraction of a second, then he tilts his chin up and grins. “Night patrol.”

“Oh?” You arch a brow at him and squeeze your thighs together. Seeing him in his vigilante armor, armed to the teeth, sword strapped to his back, does things to you.

You wonder if he'd leave his mask on if you asked…

Adrian looks over his shoulder and you both watch through the window as the van pulls out of the parking lot and chugs towards the highway.

“So….” He gazes up at you, eyes sparkling.

“Do you wanna?” Your eyes flick between him and Economos’ locked office.

“Oh my god, really? You just read my mind!” Adrian grins and hops up. “Yes! Fuck yes…”

A hot flush of pleasure floods you, but you've been thinking about what Chris said about Adrian deserving better than all these stolen moments. And you agree with him, you want to show Adrian what love is, and push him to the edge of it.

You catch his shoulder as he heads to Economos’ office, knife spinning in his hand, ready to pop the lock with it.

“Wait.” You whisper and grab his free hand.

“Whats wrong?” He asks, eyes wide. His hand squeezes yours reflexively.

“Chris says… you deserve better.”

His brows raise. "What? Is he an idiot?” His words tumble out quickly. “I want you, only you.”

Your heart skips a beat. “No, I mean… better than a bathroom or closet or you know… whatever empty room we happen upon.” You wet your lips. “And… I only want you too, Adrian.”

His green eyes widen behind his glasses. “I don't care if he thinks it's cheap.” He grimaces down at his tented pants. “Fuck.” He mutters and tries to cover it with his shirt.

“Unless you stop being so smart, and beautiful, and funny… this is just going to keep happening. I can't control it.” He wets his lips. “It happens all the time.” He leans in and kisses you.

“He may have mentioned that…” Your breath hitches and you stroke your hand up his erection. He takes a shuddering breath.

“If we don't do it here... where the hell are we going to do it?” His voice quivers. “I cant… im not bringing you to my fucking moms house.” You bite your lip, eyes eating up the flush crawling up his face.

“My place.” You whisper.

“Okay, but…” He looks down at his boner, glasses sliding, and covers it with his hand. “Shit. I'm sorry.”

You bite back a groan and tug him close to you.

Chris is going to give you so much shit for this. But you can't just.. leave him like this. And if he jerks off in the bathroom you're liable to break down the door.

“You like that?” You ask, pumping your hand up and down Adrian's hard, heavy shaft. Your fist pauses just before closing over the reddened head of his cock. You lean closer and drag your tongue across the precum beading over the tip.

“Fuck… yes.” He pants weakly, eyes shuttering, abdominal muscles clenching as you pull away. He's reclined in Economos’ computer chair, hair mussed and sweat clinging to his brow as he watches you.

His jeans and boxers are puddled around his ankles, sneakers still tied on.

“Ugh… ah, ah. Oh, my god. This is better than I've ever imagined.” His voice quivers and he adjusts his seat.

“Stay still.” You murmur and smile as his hands flex and release the arm rests. Your eyes travel up to his face, he's laser focused on watching you throat his cock.

His mouth falls open and eyes widen when you lick his thick cock up and down its length, holding his gaze. His head falls back with a shuddering groan when you wrap the silky swollen head of his cock head in your lips again.

“Look at me.” You brush your nails up his thighs and his attention snaps down to you again, eyes dark with need. He squeezes the arm rests again, jaw feathering.

“I…” He whimpers. “I’m not going last…”

Your lips tug up his length, tongue wrapped around his girth. You release him with a pop and he groans.

Then your fingers curl tightly around the base of his cock. His mouth drops, eyes widen, and he pants, cock purpling. You unbutton your jeans, lick your fingers, and slide your hand into your underwear, rubbing your clit to ease some of the ache.

Adrian whimpers as he watches, eyes wide. His hips thrust against your hand, desperate for friction. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, pressing close to his cock, but not running your tongue up it. You love teasing him. He squeezes his eyes shut, shoulders trembling.

“You're not listening, Adrian.” You bite your lip and rub your pulsing clit faster. "I want you to look at me..."

He's working hard to hold his orgasm back, chest quivering, cock throbbing and bobbing in your hand.

You moan and roll your hips against your fingers, locking eyes with him.

His eyes flash with longing and he bites back a gasp, breath shuddering.

A thick pool of milky pre-ejaculate beads at the tip of his cock and spills down his length while you hold him. You bite back your own whimper, wishing he was filling the empty ache throbbing through you. You want so bad to center him on your pussy, feel him stretch you wide, and ride him hard until he falls apart under you.

“Please, please…” He whispers.

You cry out as he pleads, breaking around your own hand, gasping, and rolling your hips as your orgasm rips through you. Still panting you reach up and press your slick fingers into Adrian's mouth.

He sighs and takes them eagerly. “Fuck…” He groans around your fingers, sucking your essence from them.

Then you press your mouth to his cock again and suck him deep into your mouth, humming and savoring the salty sweet taste of him.

He whimpers around your fingers, one hand trailing to push your hair back from your face, watching as you work.

He gasps when his cock head hits the back of your throat and you gag. He shifts in the seat, knees widening and legs stretching out, one foot twitching.

“Gah, ugh…” He pants and you drag your eyes up. From between his legs he looks destroyed, glasses crooked, mouth open and panting around your fingers, eyes glimmering with desperate need for release. He swallows hard, Adams apple bobbing.

“Fuck… can I… can I…” His abdomen clenches and he lets out a string of whimpered curses. “I’m sorry, sorry…I cant… I'm going to come.” He groans, damp curls sticking to his forehead.

You withdraw your fingers from his mouth and start pumping his cock.

“I want to taste you…” You order, jerking his swollen cock quickly, holding his gaze.

When you let your mouth fall open and stick your pink tongue out, a shuddering cry breaks from his lips and his cock throbs in your hand.

You stuff him in your mouth and he explodes once he passes your lips and hits the back of your throat, hips jerking as he fills your mouth and throat with his pulsing cock and a huge hot load of his cum.

“Ah, ah.. oh… oh…” He hisses out small moans as he finishes pumping inside your mouth. You swallow the mouthful of his cum and wipe a thick sticky stream of it trailing down your chin and neck away with the back of your hand.

Wetting your lips you look up at him, satisfied that he's been sucked dry and left quivering.

“You can move your hands now, Adrian.” You nod towards his white knuckled grip on the chair. He releases his grip and stretches his hands with a weak chuckle.

“Theres… like… no way we aren't going to keep doing that at work, is there?”

You rise, and run a hand through his soft curls, grinning down at him.

“Can you button my pants?” You ask, a little breathless.

Biting his lip he gently pulls your pants up and buttons them, then presses a tender kiss against your lower belly before straightening your shirt.

When he rises you pull him close, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Adrian, if you're not careful, I may just fall in love with you.” The lie rolls off your tongue like silk. You're already in love with him, you have been since the first time you made out with him in the utility closet at work... maybe even before then. You smile against his mouth, savoring the brush of his cheek on yours.

“Sorry…” His breath shudders against yours as he captures your lower lip. “I think I'm way past that.” He whispers.

You wet your lips, heart swelling. “Let's get your reports finished.”

“Fuck…” He pouts. “Not you too.”

"Where's your tux for tonight?"

"In my car. Why?' He straightens his glasses, looking at you curiously.

“Well, after your reports are done..." You push his hair back with your fingertips. "You can come to my place and we can get ready for tonight.”

"Really?" A warm smile spreads across his face.

“Yes.” You kiss one of his dimples. “Really.”

... to be continued 😜 ...

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed 💙 ! my adrian chase master list

He risks pulling you closer to him, and you come willingly with a sleepy sigh that just might be the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. His eyes move across your room, landing on the gun on your nightstand. Not totally safe, especially if it’s loaded, but you’ve been so paranoid lately that he’s not too surprised. Hopefully you won’t change your locks again. It’s a pain in the ass to break the one on your window without actually breaking the window. Besides, you don’t need to be so overly cautious. He’ll take care of you, just like he always does. He’ll keep killing the guys who are creepy towards you. He’ll keep up with his patrols by your house. He almost wants to wake you up to tell you that, but he’s pretty sure you won’t be soothed by it.

You stir again, always so fussy in your sleep when he’s close to you. He likes to think you can sense him, somehow. That maybe something subconscious is alerting you to his presence, rousing you just enough to snuggle up to him but not quite enough for you to wake up all the way. He knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that your panic is because of him. Because you’re smart and you’ve seen the missing items in your home and obviously noticed the broken locks enough to keep changing them, but you’re safe. You’ll always be safe because he’ll always keep it that way.

His armor has blood on it. He hopes it doesn’t smudge on your face again. You always get so upset when that happens.

“I love you.” He whispers, nose brushing your cheek. Your own nose scrunches again, and he can’t help his grin. Fuck, if he could just kiss you, just once, he’d be the happiest man in the world. But you’d wake up, and probably freak out, and with his mask off and his face exposed that’ll be a whole new mess to deal with. He doesn’t know a whole lot about relationships, but he’s pretty sure this one won’t start too wonderfully if he has to tie you up and keep you locked in your own apartment until you calm down.

“But I gotta go, okay?” You don’t answer, but the feeling of his breath against your cheek and his voice in your ear is beginning to make you rouse. As much as it kills him, he has to leave, “I’ll be back tomorrow. Sleep tight.”

He risks a kiss to your forehead as he untangles himself from you. When you hum, and turn into the pillow, it takes everything he has to not climb back into bed. If he could just take off his armor, and slide beneath the covers with you, and hold you in his arms until the sun comes up with your warm breath against his skin and your body against his own…

No. He can’t. You’re not ready for that.

But when you’re sleeping, so soft and warm and sweet in his arms, he can pretend. So he’ll keep pretending.

But he isn’t a very patient man, even on his best day. Maybe… maybe he doesn’t have to pretend too much longer.

-

You wake fully clothed, on top of your comforter, with your mouth dry and the smell of pine and blood in your bed.

That smell. That familiar, bone-chilling smell, makes you scramble for the gun on your bedside table and bolt upright before your eyes are even fully open. A habit, now, built up since the first time you woke to a broken lock on your front door and bootprints staining your carpet.

Once, when you woke up like this, there was blood on your shirt. Another time, the window was open and you had creases on your cheek like you’d slept on something harder and firmer than your pillow.

You think you might be losing your mind. And, worst of all, you think you might prefer to be losing your mind. The alternative is so much more horrifying.

Your room is empty. The window is closed. The sun is creeping over the horizon, and your phone is dead.

Before, when this first started happening, you would take an extra few minutes to tremble and re-check the apartment. Maybe cry with a mixture of horror and frustration. Now, you know you won’t find anything. You know that sitting frozen in fear won’t help. It never does.

You just go through the motions, trying to remain as numb as possible. You set the gun back down on the bedside table, shuffle out of your clothes, plug your phone in, and do your best to drift off.

Your eyes are on the window, and as you finally start to drift off, you think you might glimpse a smudge of teal in the soft light of dawn.

-

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Dave.”

“Are you still not sleeping?”

“Sleeping like a fucking baby, Dave.”

“You’re not going to be able to serve tables if you’re looking like you’re gonna pass out.”

You grit your teeth, and try for a bright smile. Judging by your manager’s reaction, it might not look entirely right.

“I’m fine.” You insist, folding up your jacket and trying not to shove it too hard into your little cubby. “Just…been a rough week.”

“You’ve been having a few rough-“

“And have I been bad at my job?” You finally snap, doing your best not to whirl on him. “Have I had bad reviews or something?” You don’t mean it to sound so much like a challenge, but you’re more than a little cranky.

“No.” He admits, frowning, “you’re fine. I’m just…oh shit, incoming.”

You know what that means. But, unlike Dave and everyone else you work with, the warning doesn’t make you prickle, or brace yourself. In fact, you feel your shoulders relaxing before you even hear his voice.

“Hey! Did you see that National Geographic special last night?” Adrian Chase, in all of his overzealous glory, appears by your side just as you begin to tie your apron around your waist.

And you did. Because you haven’t been sleeping. And the last time you did, you passed out on the couch and woke up in your bed. Tucked in. Fully clothed, and with the faint scent of blood and pine lingering in the air.

You’ve been up for two days, since then.

“The one about penguins, right?” You ask, and move over to the computer to clock in, trying to blink the exhaustion from your mind as your free hand continues to fumble with your apron.

“Right.” Adrian breathes the word, like your confirmation that you watched it is the best thing he’s ever heard, and you know without needing to look that he’s grinning. “Did you know they mate for life?”

“Mhm.” You punch in your number. Grab a pen off the counter. “The pebble thing they do is cute.”

“Hey, c’mere.” His words barely register in your mind through your haze of exhaustion, but suddenly his hands are on your waist. He spins you to him like it’s second nature, and you don’t even realize what he’s doing until you feel your apron cinch around your middle, surprisingly deft fingers tying the strings for you.

He’s close. When you look up, he’s still grinning down at you, white teeth and bright green eyes and fingers still lingering on your waist.

You know he likes you. You’re not an idiot. While he seems to shy away and avoid any and all physical contact with your other coworkers, he also seems to always be looking for a reason to touch you. It’s usually simple gestures - a hand brushing your arm as he walks past you in the dining room, a finger tapping lightly against your nose when he’s rambling about something, or even the way he stands beside you so closely that his shoulder brushes yours when you talk.

But he’s never touched you like…this. 

“Thanks.” You say, entirely unsure of what to do. He’s never been this…bold, before. He’s so close that you can feel the ghost of his breath on your lips.

“Penguins propose to other penguins with pebbles.”

You’re exhausted, and definitely still only half awake, but you can’t be imagining the way his green eyes darken as they move over your face.

“Yeah?” You’re so tired you wonder if you might be imagining this. Sure, Adrian likes you, but he also calls you his best friend all the time, so you’re not totally sure how he feels about you. Besides, the horror movie you’re currently living in isn’t exactly conducive to a new relationship, so you haven’t thought to pry into whatever feelings he might have for you.

If it weren’t for the thick fabric of your apron, you might feel his fingers curl against your waist. Barely there, but possessive.

“And then they mate for life.” His nose is so close to yours that they’re about to touch, if he leans any closer.

“You mentioned-“

“You have table twelve.” You jump back at the sound of the hostess’s voice, shaking off the…whatever that was, and running a hand through your hair with a noise of confirmation.

When you look back at Adrian, he’s still smiling. His eyes are still dark. Still locked right on yours.

And you’ve been convincing yourself that you’re imagining things for weeks, now. But it’s a little more difficult to think you were imagining that.

-

Adrian almost kissed you. He came so, so close.

And you were actually awake, this time. In his arms, right where you belong, talking to him about that nature documentary that you watched because he recommended it and looking up at him with your big sleepy eyes - you look too tired, lately, you should be sleeping more - and for a second he was positive that if he just leaned down a little more he could have kissed you. That he might have been able to slide his arms a little more tightly around your waist, and pull you to him, and feel your body against his and taste your lips in the way he’s been thinking about for so long.

But the first time he kisses you has to be perfect. Not at work, in front of everyone - he’ll kiss you in front of everyone a thousand times when you’re officially together. When you’re officially his and you actually know that you’re his.

So the moment ended. And now he’s watching you smile tensely at table twenty as they say something to you that you clearly don’t like, and he’s trying to see what they look like over the booth but he can’t quite lean over enough to-

“Sir? Sir!”

He blinks, and only then notices that the water glass he’s been refilling has overflowed onto the table to the point that the liquid is spilling over the wooden surface, onto the floor and right into the customer’s laps. But now you’re walking back to the computer, and if he waits too long you’ll go check on your other tables and you seem upset. And tired.

“Whoops.” He says simply, and places the too-full water glass down, eyes never leaving you.

“Whoops? What do you mean by whoops? We’re soaked! Sir, excuse me! Aren’t you going to clean this-” 

But Adrian is already walking away.

-

You look annoyed, and even more tired now. The night air is chilly in the back alley of Fennel Fields, and you didn’t bring your jacket. Maybe he should go in and get you his. Maybe he could wrap his arms around you, and use his body heat to warm you up. He’s pretty sure you won’t let him, but the brief fantasy of you melting into his embrace makes something warm tingle beneath his skin.

“Hi.”

You look up from where you’re sitting on a small pile of crates, and when you smile at him his stomach does a backflip and explodes into a thousand tiny butterflies.

“Hey.” You’re so sleepy. He’ll definitely be able to hold you later. You’re gonna conk out right when you get home. “Table twenty hated their ravioli.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You sigh, and tilt your head up towards the dark sky. “But they also mentioned that I have a very ‘spankable ass’, so their overreaction to not liking ravioli isn’t so bad in comparison.”

If you were looking at him, you might see Adrian’s eyes darken. See the way his entire body tenses at your words, even as his voice remains light and easy.

“Want me to kill them for you?”

You snort. You think he’s joking. “Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

And just like that, you seal their fate. And you’ll never even know.

He opens his mouth to speak again, and the ‘I love you’ is on his lips. It always is. He pushes it back, hides it away to keep you from panicking like he does all the damn time, but he almost kissed you earlier and he might be closer to blurting it out than ever.

“Do you know what kind of owl that is?” You ask, just as he hears a soft hoot in the distance. Oh, he loves you. He loves you so, so much. You’re tired and annoyed and you’re still asking him questions because you want him here. You want him to talk to you. Obviously, you love him too. Even if you don’t fully know it yet.

He smiles, and his heart does another backflip.

“Eastern barn owl.” He says, confidently, and you make a soft noise of acknowledgement. “Because of the long hoots.”

“Huh. Cool.” You look out towards the dark woods, and take a moment to listen. The hoots are not long. You don’t mention it. “Okay, I’ve gotta go back in there.” And yet, your eyes move to his. “Are you good? Anyone been a dick to you tonight?”

“Nope.” Well, they have. People have actually been ruder and shorter with him than usual tonight. But he doesn’t care. It doesn’t actually get to him, like it seems to get to everyone else.

You rise to your feet. Stretch. The movement makes your uniform shirt tighten, and his mouth gets a little dry. “Maybe we should pick up smoking or something. Then we’d get more breaks.”

“Smoking’s bad for you. Plus, too many smokers litter cigarette butts all over the place.” His voice must hold a little more disgust than he means for it to, because your eyebrow is raised when you look back at him.

“That really bothers you, huh?”

“Littering? Of course it does, it’s illegal.” His brow furrows, genuine confusion lacing his tone, but then you smile again and he forgets what he was talking about. God, you’re beautiful. Maybe it would still be a perfect first kiss if he just grabbed you and kissed you right here. Maybe you would let him. Maybe you’d even let him back you up against the wall of the alley and rip off your uniform and-

The door swings shut behind you, and he stares at it for a moment. Since he’s already out here, he should call Economos and tell him about that cute thing you did a minute ago. How you asked about the owl. That way, he can show off how much he knows about owls and brag about his girlfriend.

Instead, he forms a plan. A simple, easy plan. Maybe not the nicest thing he’ll ever do to you, but…

But if it works, you’ll finally be with him. And when you’re with him, he’ll make sure that you’re so unbelievably happy that you’ll forgive him. It’ll be worth it.

Just a little bit longer.

-

Two days later, your sleep deprivation and paranoia have become more debilitating than ever.

When you went home the other night, you tried to sleep, only to wake an hour or so later with another bloodstain on your t-shirt and a draft creeping into your room through the open window. The window you keep closed. And locked. You were warmer than you should be, despite the blankets on you, and you couldn’t fight the overwhelming feeling that someone was just holding you.

When you’d gotten up to close the window, you heard something rattle on your fire escape. Your panicked inspection of the rickety structure had turned up empty. You hadn’t fallen back asleep.

The next night, there was a crash outside as you started drifting off. Your lock was broken. You spent the night with your back against the wall, gun aimed at the door.

Now, you’re leaning a little too heavily against the POS system at Fennel Fields, trying to remember if the guy at your table ordered a vodka soda or a plate of mozzarella sticks, when the sound of your coworkers voice makes you nearly jump out of your fucking skin.

“Ugh. What a waste, right?”

Your head might move a little too slowly as you turn to her. You feel like you’re underwater, even as your gaze follows hers to where Adrian is loading up a bus tub. You can see defined biceps flexing as he lifts the heavy container, and furrow your brow as you look back at the girl beside you.

“Hmm?” If you’re not at a table, words aren’t necessary. Too much thinking involved.

“I mean, he could be so hot, right? All that potential hotness just wasted on a total weirdo. That jawline? Those muscles? And he just talks about spiders and acts like a total freak all the time.”

“I…” your frown deepens a little. Her words dig at you enough that your reaction actually surprises you. “I don’t think he’s that much of a weirdo.” Not in a bad way, at least.

“Well that’s probably good.” She finishes punching in her table’s order at the computer beside you, and adjusts her uniform a little. “I mean, he is like, obsessed with you. If the serial killer glasses don’t turn you off, you should totally go for it.”

“We’re friends.”

She gives you a look that you don’t feel like arguing with. Don’t even feel like fully interpreting. You’re light-headed. Your body aches with exhaustion, and that empty booth across the walkway is looking like it might be really comfortable. If you could just lie down and close your eyes for a minute…

“You don’t look so good.” She says, and when you look up you blink a few times to clear your vision. “Are you still not sleeping?”

“I’m fine.” You feel like you say that all the time, now. The constant tension in your shoulders isn’t helping. You jump at the smallest movements, now. You barely listen when people talk. You would give anything, anything at all, to just close your eyes and sleep. Even five minutes might help. Just five minutes of feeling fucking safe and not worrying about how or where you’ll wake up or if the fucking lock is broken or-

“Take a nap, babe. Try melatonin or something.” She says, so unhelpfully that you feel your jaw clench, and pats your arm as she walks away.

-

The shift goes by in a blur, and you’re fumbling with your keys by your car when Adrian finds you.

God, you’re tired. You are so, so tired it almost hurts. You probably shouldn’t even drive, but the idea of sleeping in your car is more vulnerable than trying to sleep in your own apartment and-

“Hey, you okay?” Adrian’s voice is by your ear, and it’s softer than usual. Despite your constant paranoia, you don’t even have it in you to jump.

His hand comes up to where you’re fumbling with your keys, like he’s about to help you with them, and you suddenly find yourself dropping them into his hands and thunking your head back against his shoulder, way more familiar than is at all appropriate for a coworker, friend or not. If you were any more awake, you might be embarrassed by the gesture.

“I don’t wanna go home.” You mumble, miserably, the honesty feeling like a breath of relief, and you feel him tense all over, if only for a second.

And then his arm sneaks around your waist, holding you up, and his nose turns into your hair. He’s warm, and steady, and his chest is surprisingly firm against your back.

“Okay.” He hums, still so uncharacteristically quiet. “Do you wanna come over?”

You shouldn’t. It probably won’t be safe for him, after all. Whatever is out there, whatever or whoever is following you and breaking your locks and moving things in your home and making you feel like you’re losing your fucking mind, they might hurt him. You might be putting him in danger.

But you’re not thinking straight, and his arm is solid and strong around your middle, and you feel surprisingly safe right now. For the first time in what feels like forever.

You nod. And you think, vaguely, you feel him smile as his arm tightens around you.

“M’kay. C’mere.” He murmurs, and you begin to pull away before he moves to wrap a hand around the backs of your thighs, scooping you up bridal-style against a broad chest.

“I can walk, Ade.” You say, unable to fight back a surprised laugh, and he matches the sound with a wide grin of his own.

“Nah, I gotcha.” He hoists you up a little higher as he carries you over to his car. It’s ridiculous. The whole thing is ridiculous. You’re so tired you can’t think straight. This is definitely a stupid idea - you’ve never even been to Adrian’s place before, and as much as you like talking to him at work he could be a fucking serial killer for all you know.

And yet, the idea of going home alone is…terrifying. The idea of being awake all night again, of seeing things outside your windows and being so exhausted that you can’t tell if it’s some kind of hallucination or the real thing, is so frightening you just might be willing to risk ending up in some Silence of the Lambs situation with Adrian Fucking Chase.

“You don’t have to-“ you start, but Adrian has already opened the passenger door of his car, and is leaning over you to buckle you up. He’s humming. He smells like mozzarella sticks, cheap cologne, and maybe a little bit of bleach. It’s nice. Comforting, even.

“Seriously, I’m fine. You really don’t have to do this.” You try again, and he shushes you with a pat to your cheek as he moves over to the driver’s seat.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll take you home tomorrow. Just lemme take care of you.” He says, and you frown.

“Are you-“

“Shush.” He insists, and one large hand pats your thigh as he settles himself behind the wheel. “I’ve gotcha. For reals.”

And, as weird as it is, as ridiculous as this whole thing might be, you smile.

-

You fall asleep within minutes.

You fight it, of course. You’re so adorable, trying to focus long enough to talk to him as he drives, humming along to the music he plays and fighting to keep your eyes open.

But he blasts the heat, and he even stays as quiet as possible, until your eyes finally flutter shut and your breathing evens out.

You’re in his car. You’re so pretty he can barely focus on the road. When he pulls up in front of his place, you stir, but you don’t wake.

He’s waited so long for the day that he gets to hold you when you’re not sleeping. Gets to run his fingers through your soft hair without worrying that he’ll wake you. Even asleep as you are right now, it’s close. Because if you wake up now, you won’t try to run. Probably.

He carries you inside, and you still don’t wake. So cute. So perfect. So soft as he risks leaning down to brush his lips over your forehead. You’ve always been a heavy sleeper, never really waking too much when he first started breaking in. But now, now that you keep trying to stay awake all night all the time, it’s like you can sleep through anything sometimes. Through him snuggling you into his chest, or carrying you from the couch into your room…

He’s taking risks. He knows he is. What happens the night you do wake up? When you look up to see him holding you in his armor, and freak out? All of his plans for that day involve…shit, they mostly involve kidnapping you until you stop freaking out. And maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. He could take care of you more easily, without having to follow you around to make sure you’re safe. And he’ll get to see you more often. And maybe you’ll even like it, after a while.

But with that plan, you’ll be mad at him for weeks. Maybe even longer. And you just let him take you home. Just trusted him to take care of you.

No, he needs to wait. He needs to play this smart. He already feels so guilty for spooking you these last couple of nights, just enough to keep you awake until you nearly collapsed into his arms in the parking lot. It’ll be worth it, of course, but it doesn’t make him feel any less like a bad boyfriend.

You wake as he lays you down on top of his comforter, jolting up with surprise and all that familiar paranoia. All he can think is that you’re in his room, in his apartment, and you look like you belong here.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He greets, fighting the urge to climb atop you and figure out how many ways he might be able to keep you awake, just for a little longer. “Want some pjs?”

You frown, taking in your surroundings, and seem to think through your situation. You’re in your coworker’s apartment, in his bed, without a car and still in your work uniform. You just so much as passed out in his arms, and allowed him to carry you to his car and up a few flights of stairs.

“I can sleep on the couch.” You try, and he shakes his head.

“Hey, it’s not weird. It’s totally fine.” He has to fight tooth and nail to keep the desperation out of his voice, shuffling through his drawers until he finds you a t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Plus, you’re all freaked out about something. That’s why you haven’t been sleeping, right? You can stay in here. I’ll protect you.” Yeah, he sees the irony, but so what? At least he’s not tying you to the bed or something. That would be fucked up. This is chivalrous.

You hesitate. Rub at your eyes. He sees the bags under them. Sees the gears in your mind turning. You might just be exhausted enough to push past all the social norms everyone seems to care so much about. All those annoying little things that tell you that this is weird that he can’t for the life of him figure out.

C’mon. Please, please, please….

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” You nod, making your decision, and gather the clothes in your arms. “Bathroom?”

He points you to it, and manages to keep himself from grinning until the door clicks behind you.

No way. No way he’s this lucky. Good things really do come to those who wait, huh? He should call Chris. Or John. But then again, they think you sleep over here all the time, so they won’t get it. And you’ll probably hear the phone call, and…

He shakes off the thought, changes into his own pajamas, and nearly climbs back into bed to wait for you before he realizes that he should probably hide the pictures of you in his room. The items he’s taken from your home. A pillow, a couple articles of clothing…

He’s just slid back under the covers when you shuffle out of the bathroom, and you look perfect in his clothes.

And you’re looking at him, in his simple white tank top and sweatpants, and your eyes have drifted down to his exposed biceps and he’s totally not flexing. Totally not.

“C’mere, sleepy.” He pats the spot next to him, and you come. You follow his order, and slide beneath the covers of his bed, and he feels like he might start fucking vibrating with joy.

You’re hesitant. Still a little weirded out, maybe. A little awkward with how you’ve found yourself in your coworkers bed, in his clothes, picking nervously at his sheets. The urge to wrap you up in his arms is so strong that he almost surges forward and does it, and barely manages to hold himself back.

“Is your door locked?” You ask, eyes flitting to the windows, to his bedroom door.

“Yup.” What would you do if he kissed you right now? Or leaned closer and inhaled the lingering scent of your perfume? He wonders if you’ll still smell like you in his clothes, or if the scents will mix together and create a new smell that’s uniquely you two. “Windows, too. Do you wanna watch a movie?”

You still look like you’re about to fall asleep sitting up. That’s okay. You might fall asleep on him, and wouldn’t that be perfect? Maybe he can get you to lie down, and slide atop you and trace his lips and tongue and teeth over every inch of your body until you’re-

“Adrian?”

“Hm?” Oops. How long has he been staring at you? Is he drooling?

“…yes? To the movie?”

“Oh, yeah!” He rolls over to the other side of the bed, scrambles for the remote to the little TV on his dresser, and uses the excuse to roll back a little closer to you.

Your shoulders touch. Your eyes are fighting to stay open. He’s too happy that you’re here to risk draping an arm around you, so he opts for focusing all of his energy into the feeling of the barely-there points of contact between your bodies.

All according to plan.

-

He’s not surprised that you only lasted five minutes into the movie before you fell asleep again. After all, you were so exhausted before that you basically passed out in his arms, back in the parking lot.

And now, before the opening credits of the movie were even over, your head fell heavily against his shoulder. He’d grinned, and took extra time to guide you carefully down with him against the pillows, making sure not to wake you. He has the practice, after all.

He brushes your hair back from your face, bolder now that he doesn’t need to be worried about you waking up and panicking. Now that he’s not in full armor, or covered in blood, or…well, in your apartment without your knowledge.

You don’t stir. He leans a little closer, tucks your body into his chest, and inhales. You smell so good. Like you’re his. You look so amazing tucked beneath the blankets of his bed that his mind is already racing with ways he might be able to keep you here forever.

You wake at the movement, just a little. Just enough to puff a breath against his shoulder and blink your eyes open. Just enough that every instinct in him tells him that he should jump out the window. But he doesn’t need to. You’re here, in his bed, warm and safe and in his arms because you chose to be.

“Ade?” You mumble, and the nickname makes him have to fight back a delighted laugh. Look at you, calling him by the nickname you use at work with your soft lips brushing against his shoulder. In his home, in his bed, right where you belong. Finally sleeping after you’ve been so unnecessarily paranoid for so long. You don’t feel safe, but you always have been. You always will be. At least, without the mask and the armor, he can show you just how safe he can keep you.

“Mm?” He hums, feigning sleepiness of his own, and pulls you closer like he might just be too tired to realize that he’s doing so. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s wide the fuck awake, and banking on the fact that you aren’t.

You fall right into it, the twitch in your brow smoothing as you seem to come to the realization that he’s only half-awake, too. That moving might stir him, and it’s better to just snuggle closer and drift off again.

It takes a while for Adrian to actually fall asleep, but when he does, the last thing he remembers is tracing featherlight touches over your back, wishing with all of his might that he could just tilt your head back and feel your body relax against his in every other way than falling asleep.

Nothing alarming, at first.

You woke up this morning feeling completely out of it. Kind of foggy, kind of heavy, like your body was already tired. At first, you didn’t think too much about it. It happens sometimes, life goes on, water under the bridge kinda thing.

Then you turned around in bed and caught his smell on the pillow next to yours. He had already left for work, but it was still there. That mix of clean clothes and shaving cream, something fresh but warm at the same time. It hit you harder than you expected. His smell.

And that’s when you knew. Fuck, you knew too well.

You grabbed your phone and opened your period tracker. And there it was; that time of the month again. A small, breathless laugh escaped your lips. 

And of course he had to be working all fucking day today. You could already feel it; a long, painful and completely unbearable day. 

—

Sitting at your kitchen table, sipping your coffee, you stared down at your phone. Your leg was bouncing so hard it made the table tremble. You knew how you looked; pathetic, desperate, waiting around like this. But still, you grabbed your phone.

Y/N hey so, what time you planning to come back home?? Adrian off at 5pm, but has some patrol to do after that Y/N be quick, ok? like, real quick. Adrian of course!! can’t wait to watch the new love is blind ep :)

Poor thing couldn’t read between the lines, he never really could. But fuck if you didn’t love that oblivious mind of his and the way he looked at you with his soft smile and that light in his eyes. It was never complicated with Adrian, it was just…easy.

And you knew, without a doubt, that he would always do whatever you asked him.

—

“Baby, I’m hooome!” Adrian sang, throwing his keys on the counter. “And guess what?” He added, dragging out the suspense for a moment. “I brought your favorite takeout!”

He walked into the living room and stopped when he saw you sprawled across the couch. You were wearing the shortest shorts in the history of shorts and a tiny tank top that barely covered anything, it didn’t leave much to the imagination. Not that he minded anyway.

‘You’re, like, the hottest person I’ve ever seen’ he’d always tell you everyday. He’d known it from the moment he first saw you months ago. And now here you were, in that skimpy little outfit, somehow even hotter than usual.

“Hey, handsome.” You pulled yourself from the couch and walked over to him, sliding your arms around his neck, playing it cool. As if you hadn’t waited for him all day. “How was your day?”

“It was crazy!” He said immediately, animated. “This lady just barged in, asking to talk to Peacemaker. Apparently they had a thing a few weeks ago and –” You kissed him. He blinked, but kept going as soon as you pulled back. “And he, like, never called her back. Which, y’know, sucks and isn’t very gentleman-y. Anyway, so –” You kissed him again, a little bit longer, more eager. “So I tried to give him some advice since, y’know, I have a super hot girlfriend –” You kissed him a third time, your fingers sliding into his hair, tugging just enough to make him stop talking. 

“Adrian.” You said, slightly breathless. 

“Yes, baby?” He asked, clearly flustered from the kissing, but still completely oblivious to what you were doing.

“I missed you today.” You pouted.

“I missed you too.” He smiled instantly, soft and sincere. 

“Adrian.” You repeated. “I really missed you.” You held his gaze, looking deep into his green eyes, hoping he’d finally read between the lines.

You slid your hands over his cheeks, feeling the subtle stubble of his beard, knowing your inner thighs will love the feeling of it. You leaned in closer, letting your thumbs brush softly against his jawline, before gently taking off his glasses and setting them carefully on the small table next to you.

“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow, curious. Then it hit him, his eyes widened slightly. “Oh. Ovulation.” He whispered to himself.

The glasses were a given. He’d always keep them on. Unless. Unless you wanted him to fully lose it on you.

—

“Mmmm, fuck – fucking hell.” He groaned into your ear.

Laid down on your stomach, you bit your bottom lip with such intensity that, for a moment, you were afraid you might draw blood. Adrian was on top of you, pinning firmly your wrists behind your back as he pushed into you with a force you knew only he was capable of. You knew you’d be sore tomorrow, but you didn’t care, you were exactly where you wanted to be.

“Fuck baby – look at you. So – so needy for me.” He suddenly stopped, grabbing a fistful of your hair, bringing your head a bit closer to him. “Did you touch yourself today?” You nodded and he gently kissed your cheek. “Use your voice, baby.”

A pause. “No, I – I couldn’t. I wanted you, just you.”

“Fuck, tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” You said, your voice weak and trembling.

“Come on, baby. A bit more conviction, yeah?” He teased.

Goddamn it, you both loved and hated when he got cocky, that smug confidence on his face as he firmly held you in place. Adrian wasn’t a dom – his dom mask would slip from time to time – but he was willing to be whatever you wanted him to be, whenever or wherever you wanted. And he knew you too well.

You loudly groaned. “I’m yours, Adrian.” You squirmed, pushing your ass against his pelvis. “Please, just fuck me.” You begged.

“Of course, baby.”

His slick tongue traced its way up your throat and he gently kissed your temple before forcefully pushing your face against the mattress, a sharp gasp of excitement slipped from your lips. You knew he’d apologize later for roughing you around like this. Normally, he treated you with such gentleness, softly and carefully, but right now this was exactly what you wanted. You, being completely under his control, his mercy, his pounding.

He hit the spot, that sweet sweet spot inside of you, with his rosy and swollen tip. You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of his skin against yours and the drool slowly dripping from your mouth. It just felt so fucking good.

In one fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back, hovering above you before sliding back into you, another gasp escaped your lips. He knew about that time of the month. He knew too damn well how easy it was for him to make you scream his name at the moment. And you knew he would never miss an opportunity to look at you as he did.

“Adrian, baby –” You begged.

He cut you off. “I know, baby. I know.”

He locked your legs around his waist and, without thinking twice, you brought him closer. His right thumb on your clit, his left palm on your lower stomach, pushing on it, and you knew you were locked in. The wave of pleasure would soon come fast and you’d embrace it as you always did.

Rubbing small but steady circles against your core, he leaned towards you, putting his weight on your lower stomach before plunging into you once again. Faster, stronger and messier. Your moans merged into a unison of the filthiest, most obscene sound it was somehow allowed to make. You grabbed his thick, veiny arms, wanting to ground you, needing to sink your nails into something.

“Fuck – you’re so fucking filthy, baby.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing in a deep trembling breath. You knew he was close, you could see and feel him getting there by the seconds. But never – ever – would Adrian cum before you did, it was unfathomable.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck –” He whined, applying the perfect amount of pressure on your clit.

His mask slipped and there he was; your whining, whimpering mess of a boyfriend. With a soft and gentle touch, you cupped his cheek, locking his eyes on yours. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach, your legs shaking against his back and with an open mouth, you screamed his name, something between a moan and a plea.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck –” He growled through gritted teeth.

He stilled, his pelvis against yours, your muscles clenching tightly all around him as he filled you up with what you begged for. He stayed deep inside of you, not wanting a single drop to be anywhere but inside of you, where you wanted. 

His features softened, looking at you with a tenderness that belonged to no one but Adrian. Resting his head comfortably on your chest, arms wrapped tightly around you, you felt the full weight of his body, like a heavy blanket; warm, comforting and familiar. You ran your fingers through his curls in silence, both of you catching your breath and satisfied, but far from finished.

“I think it’s my favorite time of the month.” He sighed, pausing as a hint of panic crept into his voice. “Not that it’s not good the rest of the time! But, like, you want me to cum in you so badly and I love to cum inside of you. It’s so so good, you know?” He said, meeting your gaze, clearly waiting for you to confirm.

You chuckled. “Wanna fill me up again and feel so so good?”

“Oh god, yes.” He propped himself up, glancing at you nervously. “Hey, sorry for…y’know, pushing your head into the mattress like that.” He said, clearly feeling guilty.

You giggled. “I want you to push it harder.”

“Soooooo…” He pointed at the table, a teasing grin on his face. “I assume no glasses then?"

He hesitates, and he’s still staring into the popcorn bowl instead of looking at you, which makes you worry. Adrian might have trouble making eye contact with other people, but never with you. You frown.

He tells you everything. He’s never lied to you, not once, in your whole lives. You’ve been friends since you were children. You’ve known about Vigilante since the beginning. You’ve been patrolling with him just as long. You’ve been there for every bullet wound and buried body and late-night patrol. Something is eating away at him, and it’s not like him to hide from you.

“Tell me,” you say, softer, but it’s not a question. It’s a demand.

“Do you like Economos? Why did you hug him?” Adrian asks, and you’re majorly caught off-guard, because that is not what you were expecting this to be about.

“I—what?”

“After the mission yesterday. When we got back to the van. You hugged Economos,” Adrian says, and the words have a bit of bite to them. Your brow furrows and you sit up straighter.

“What?” you say again, because you are still baffled.

“We killed all those drug dealers in that warehouse, and then we got back to the van, and you hugged Economos.”

“I—yeah, I did,” you say, remembering. “He was on the cameras while we were in there. He warned us through the earpiece about that guy that was right behind us that neither of us saw. I was saying thank you.”

“So you hugged him?” Adrian asks, and it sounds…bitter?

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” Adrian doesn’t answer, but he is very pointedly not looking at you. “Seriously, Ade? Is that what this is about?”

“So it wasn’t, like, a sexy hug?”

“Adrian. Listen to yourself.”

“What?”

“What even is a sexy hug?”

“I don’t know! A hug between two people who want to fuck each other, I guess!”

“And you think I want to fuck Economos?”

“Well, don’t you?”

“No!” you cry. “Why—what—”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” you repeat, disbelief lacing your words.

“He is my fourth best friend,” Adrian says petulantly. “He’s a perfectly fuckable guy. You don’t need to sound so offended by the prospect.”

“Why do you want me to fuck Economos?”

“I don’t want you to fuck Economos! That is literally the last thing I want!”

“Then why are we talking about this, Adrian?”

He falls silent and looks back down at his popcorn. He refuses to look at you, just stares at the tv screen even though it’s on pause, and you just hum and observe him for a moment, admiring his side profile.

“I can’t—” you start, but cut yourself off. “You are such an idiot.” 

You don’t mean it in a cruel way. The words come out fond, if anything. Adrian’s lips twitch. It’s not a smile, but it’s something. Familiar territory, at least.

“You’re so mean to me,” he complains halfheartedly, an accusation you hear at least once a week.

“You love me anyway,” you say, like you always do, and you start to relax again, sliding your feet back into Adrian’s lap. He puts the popcorn bowl aside and sets his hands on your calves, absentmindedly tracing patterns on the fabric of your leggings.

But you’re not quite ready to let this go, yet.

“Even if I did want to fuck John…why would it matter?” you ask quietly.

Adrian’s hands still, his breath caught in his throat. It’s like he’s petrified by your question. He can’t look at you as you pull yourself up toward him. One hand reaches for his face, grips his chin firmly and turns his head to face you, holding him in place and making him look.

Your eyes are curious as they meet his, and Adrian hates the way that you look right through him. Like you can see right into the messy core of him, all the things he tries to hide away. Then your gaze flicks down to his lips, and his breath hitches, because god, he wants to kiss you right now. But you are his friend, his oldest, longest friend, and he really, really doesn’t want to fuck it up.

But it’s all fucked up anyway, isn’t it? Because of these stupid feelings, that won’t go away, no matter how much he pretends that they aren’t there.

“It would matter because I’m in love with you,” he whispers. “Even though you’re mean to me sometimes. I don’t want you to fuck Economos because—because—”

“Because you want to fuck me?” you finish. Like it’s that simple.

Adrian can’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed. He’s too nervous, too overwhelmed, too full of this godawful feeling. Jealousy, love, want. It’s all mixed up inside, and he feels sick with it.

“Yeah,” he finally manages to say. The word wrenches out of him, almost involuntary. He’s not sure if a weight has lifted off his shoulders, or if he wishes he could take it back and melt into the floor.

The smile that blooms on your face is bright and joyous.

“You really are an idiot,” you laugh. “Adrian, I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve. I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up.”

“I—What?” he says, flabbergasted, because this is not how he pictured his dramatic love confession going. He just poured his heart out, and you’re laughing at him. “You—Why didn’t you say something?”

“I tell you I love you literally all the time, you doofus.”

“I thought you meant as a friend! How was I supposed to—”

“Adrian, are you going to keep rambling, or are you going to fucking kiss me already? I think I’ve waited long enough,” you interrupt.

Adrian lets out a breath that’s been stuck in his chest for years. Since you were kids sitting around a table playing Dungeons and Dragons in his basement, before it was his Vigilante lair. Since the first time he can remember thinking you were beautiful, when you were fourteen, with melted strawberry ice cream smeared across your cheek.

All he can do is make a desperate choking noise and lean forward until he finally, finally feels your lips press against his.

It was going to be soft and sweet. It was. But then you sigh into his mouth, a release of tension, and he can’t resist; he opens up for you, wet and deep and wanting. He wants to swallow you, to climb inside you and live there, and now he knows that he’s allowed—that you want him the way that he wants you, in this all-consuming, unbearable, overwhelming way—it’s almost too much.

Adrian tugs you into his lap, feels your weight settle onto him, close in a way that would make him squirm away if it were anyone else, but with you it’s comforting. The movement sends his popcorn tumbling to the floor, the metal bowl loud and clanking on the wood, and he could not give less of a fuck, because your hand on his jaw is sliding into his hair, gripping firmly to his curls, while your other lands on his neck, thumb pressed against his pulse point, right where his heart is racing so fast he thinks he might die.

He can’t stop moving his hands—they land on your waist, slide down to your thighs, brush against the hot, soft line of bare skin where your shirt rides up, and he hears your breath catch. You break away from his hungry lips with a gasp.

“Adrian,” you say. You’ve never said his name like that before. He wants you to say it again, wants to keep kissing you and never, ever stop.

“Yeah,” he says, and he sounds absolutely wrecked. All you’ve done is kiss him, and he’s devolved into a wanton mess.

“We don’t have to,” you continue. “I know you don’t always like—soft touching, or sex—”

“It’s different,” he says quickly, hands tightening on your waist. He can’t let you go on thinking for another moment that he doesn’t want this. “With you. It’s different, I want—”

His hips jolt upwards, a helpless grind to make you feel how much he wants you, and you say his name again, all raspy and longing, just like he wanted, and he groans.

Then you’re pressing on his chest, sending him back into the couch cushions as you push off of him and stand up. He panics for a minute, hands grasping at your clothes—he doesn’t want you to go, you can’t go now, not when he finally has you like this—but you shush him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, because you know him, and his racing mind steadies, just a bit. Then you take a tiny step back and reach for the hem of your shirt, and it goes into overdrive again.

“No,” Adrian says hoarsely, hands shaking as he reaches forward. “I want to do it. Please—please, let me—”

“Yes,” you say, and that’s all he needs, scrambling to his feet. His fumbling hands settle on your waist, roam up and under your shirt, brush against the soft skin of your stomach. Then he tugs at the bottom of your shirt. You lift your arms and he pulls it over your head slowly, tossing it on the couch behind him.

He stares. You shiver under his intense gaze, suddenly nervous, and feeling a little ridiculous about it. It’s Adrian. He’s your best friend. He loves you, he just said so, and even before he did, you knew. You’ve known the whole time. But you still feel stripped bare, because he’s seeing you in a way he never has before, and he looks—hungry.

“Your turn,” you say, flustered, hands drifting up inside his shirt, trailing over his abs. Adrian swallows, shudders at the light touch of your fingertips on his skin, and reaches to grab his shirt at the back of his neck and yank it off.

When he’s shirtless in front of you, your eyes latch onto the muscles of his arm. One finger trails over his bicep, and he watches the motion.

“I’ve wanted to fucking bite you, right here,” you tell him, “for at least a decade.”

“Oh, fuck,” he chokes out, and you dig your teeth into the muscle of his shoulder just as you brush your hand against the bulge in his jeans. “Oh, my god—”

Adrian can’t seem to manage to string together a coherent sentence, not as you flick open the button on his pants and fumble with the zipper, your mouth sucking a bruise into the skin of his arm all the while.

“Oh, fuck—oh god, fuck—”

He’s losing control of the situation. He can’t function like this. So he wraps your hair in his fist and pulls, using the leverage to yank your mouth back to his, swallowing your noise of surprise. He grabs your hands and guides your arms up around his neck, then bends down to pick you up, strong hands supporting your thighs. You yelp, caught off guard.

“What the—”

“Are we going to fuck right now?” Adrian asks bluntly. It’s a little frantic, tinged with want, his pupils blown wide as he looks up at you, hoisted in the air with your legs wrapped around his waist.

“I was under the impression, yes.”

“I don’t have any condoms.”

“Bedside drawer, baby.”

“Fuck. Call me that again,” he whines, and you kiss him, long and deep. Your lips trail along his jawline, tongue tracing the shell of his ear, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

“Baby,” you whisper, giving him exactly what he wants, and his knees nearly give out. “Take me to bed.”

You’ve given him an order, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do exactly as he’s told.

Adrian considers himself a pretty solid, balanced person, at least physically, but you’ve made him unsteady. He can still feel himself trembling with nerves, though he clutches you tightly as he walks you to your bedroom, determined not to drop you. It doesn’t help that your lips wander the whole time, tongue darting out to lick the salty dip of his neck, a little nibble on the sensitive spot under his ear.

“If you don’t fucking stop that—”

“Make me.”

He nearly trips over his own feet more than once before finally tossing you on the bed. You giggle at his desperation, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra and toss it aside, and Adrian’s jaw goes slack when you lay back against the pillows, waiting for him.

“You’re so mean,” he says for the second time that night, breathless, hands working at the clasp of his belt and pushing his jeans down his legs until he’s left only in his underwear.

“You love me anyway,” you say. It’s your usual response, but this time it hits differently. Adrian pauses.

“I do,” he says, quiet and firm, and he crawls over you onto the bed, pushing you into the mattress as he kisses you, spreading his hands on your thighs and pushing your legs apart to make room for himself as his hips roll into yours. “God, I am—just—so fucking hard right now—”

“I can tell,” you gasp, meeting his sloppy thrust with one of your own. The pressure is so, so, good, even through your leggings, but— “Fuck, Adrian—if you don’t take my pants off in the next ten seconds—”

Then he’s pulling your leggings down, and between the wet, open-mouthed kisses he presses to your inner thighs, he pants, “Fuck, baby—you’re so fucking pretty like this, oh my—I thought I was gonna have to—fight Economos. First he stole my chainsaw kill, and I thought he gonna steal my girl—”

“Oh my god, Adrian,” you groan, and he presses his tongue against you through your panties. Your hips buck off the bed. “Jesus Christ, can you please stop talking about John while you’re getting me naked—”

“Sorry,” he says, a little sheepish, hooking his fingers into your underwear and sliding them down your legs. 

Then his mouth attaches to your clit and sucks, and one finger slides through your folds and slips right inside you with absolutely no warning, and every rational thought you’ve ever had leaves your mind entirely and a strangled noise wrenches out of you.

Adrian listens to the wrecked noise you make, watches you squirm, feels your thighs tighten around his head, pressing the metal frame of his glasses into his face, and a proud, possessive feeling roars up inside his chest, because he is the one making you feel this way. 

He’s spent so many years molding his body into a killing machine, into an instrument of vengeance, and for a long time, it felt like that was the most important thing could ever do. But suddenly there’s this, and he knows that nothing could ever be more important than getting you to make that noise again.

“Let me hear those pretty noises,” he says, and he keeps at it, fucking you with his tongue, his fingers, and the whole time, he talks, the vibration of his ramblings radiating through you, every whispered and grunted curse fueling the heat that spreads under your skin.

Your little choked pants and gasps leave Adrian heady with the desire for more. When his callused fingertip grazes a sensitive spot inside you, you cry out, thighs trembling, tension coiling in your abdomen.

“Does that feel good?” he asks eagerly. He slips another finger inside, spreading you open wider, and nudges for it again, and you’re so wet now that the slick and filthy sound of his thrusting fingers fills the room. You feel your cheeks heat.

“God, oh god, yes.” 

Adrian glances up through his slightly fogged glasses, smiling. He watches with wide eyes as you nod fervently, one hand reaching to knead at your breast, and he reaches up to catch it in his, swat it away.

“No,” he says, kissing up your abdomen, hand still moving between your thighs, thumb circling your clit. “Let me—do it. I want—I want—”

He can have it. Whatever he wants, he can have it, because god, you are so fucking close.

His tongue trails over your breast, and now that he’s within reach, you grin, one hand tracing through his hair, fingernails scraping on his scalp. You can feel him shiver against you, exhale hot against your sensitive skin.

Your other hand drifts down, slips into his underwear, wraps around his bare cock, and squeezes.

“Oh my god,” he says, eyes screwing shut. He goes entirely still, all the air punching out of his lungs. “Jesus fucking Christ, holy fucking shi—”

You cut him off with a kiss, stroke him slowly, and snap at his waistband.

“Take these off for me, baby,” you murmur.

Adrian swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing right in your light of sight, and you can’t help yourself, you lean up to nip at it. He hasn’t breathed since you’ve touched him, so you pause, take your hand off him, give him space for a moment. He follows your signal, fingers slipping out of you, and you bite your lip and try not to whine at the loss of him, clenching around the nothingness.

“Take a breath,” you instruct, and he sucks in air, harsh and sharp. Both your hands come to rest in his hair, scratching gently at his scalp, and it soothes him, just a little. “Look at me, Ade.” His eyes flutter open. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, I’m—I want—”

It’s the second time he’s cut himself off. “What do you want, baby?”

“I just want you,” he pants. “I want you so bad.”

“You’ve got me, Adrian,” you say. “You’ve always had me.”

“I love you,” he whispers, and he dips down to kiss you, more urgently than he has all night. It’s sloppy and rough; your teeth clack together, he sucks your tongue into his mouth, like he’s trying to consume you.

“Want you to fuck me,” you plead. “God, please, Adrian—”

He shoves his underwear down and reaches over to the bedside drawer, fumbling around.

“Where the fuck—” he mutters. “Goddamnit. Where are the—ha!” He grins triumphantly when his fingers finally close around a foil-wrapped condom, holding it up for you like a prize.

“That’s nice, baby,” you say, snatching it out of his grasp and ripping open the package, because you’ve been on edge now for too long, and you’re starting to get impatient. “Now put it on and get inside me.”

“Right,” he says, rolling the condom on and lining himself up. “I’m gonna try so hard not to like, instantly cum, but I have been waiting for this, for, my whole life, basically, so—”

“I’m so goddamn close,” you groan, impatient, moving your hips and feeling him notch at your entrance. “I swear to god, Adrian, if you don’t stick your fucking dick in me already—”

“Okay, okay, I—” He sinks into you slowly, watches his cock disappear inside you and loses his words, feels your soft warmth yield to him until he’s fully surrounded. Your legs around his waist, ankles pressing into his ass to draw him as close as he can get; your arms around his neck, holding his face against your throat where he whispers a breathy chant of repeated curses into your skin; your cunt fluttering around his cock, tight and hot and perfect.

You take a steadying breath, adjust to the feeling of him inside you, the way he stretches you, fills you. Then you shift your hips, just a little, and Adrian groans. You laugh, muscles clenching around him.

“God, don’t do that,” he says. “It’s already hard enough not to—”

“Move,” you tell him, and he does, an erratic snap of his hips that shoves you deep into the mattress. You make a noise of surprise, and it’s his turn to laugh.

Adrian should have expected it to be like this. Should have known that loving you would be easy. Should have done this weeks, months, years ago. It makes his heart swell in his chest, looking down at you smiling up at him, and he kisses you again. He can’t help himself, overwhelmed with affection, grinning even as he feels your nails dig into the muscles of his shoulders.

You meet his rhythm with your own thrusts, every jerk of his hips met with the arching of your back. Adrian whimpers, whines, face falling forward until his forehead touches yours while he ruts against you.

“‘m gonna—” he chokes, “gonna cum—” One hand drifts between your legs, finds your clit, and his thumb starts circling, frantic. “Need you to—I want to feel you—”

“So good,” you pant, feeling yourself start to tip over the edge. “You—make me feel so good, baby—I love you—”

It’s those three words that set him off, raspy in his ear, and just a moment later, he feels you convulse around him, writhe beneath him, his cock twitching as he spills into the condom, chest heaving. His muscles quiver, and he pulls out, lying down beside you before his arms give out and he collapses on top of you.

He turns his head to the side, watches your chest rise and fall as you catch your breath, and turns on to his side to wrap an arm around your waist. He tucks his face into your neck, licks and sucks at the skin there, because it’s too bare, too smooth. He needs to leave a mark, to prove he was here, to prove that you’re his, now. You just close your eyes and let him, hand brushing through his hair, sweat and slick drying salty on your skin.

You protest when he presses a final kiss to the fresh bruise he left on your neck and shifts to get out of bed, but he just kisses your forehead and says, “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go clean myself up. And really, babe, you should go pee, I don’t want you to get a UTI—”

You roll your eyes, but you laugh and follow him into the bathroom, leaning into his side because you’re tired, knees a little shaky, and you know he’ll hold you up.

Eventually, you both tumble back into bed, still a little sticky and sweaty, but also spent and satisfied and happy. Adrian pulls you into his side, and you press a kiss to his chest, smiling, eyes fluttering closed.

You’re on the edge of sleep when the rumble of Adrian’s voice rings out in the comfortable silence.

“I’m just saying,” Adrian says. “Economos could never—”

“Oh my god. Shut the fuck up—”

Adrian wakes up to a soft kiss.

“Mmm,” he hums, squinting at you, because his glasses are all the way over on the bedside table. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, baby,” you laugh, letting him tug you on top of him.

“Are we gonna fuck again right now?” he asks, a little sleepy, but absolutely ready to get going if that’s what you want. His hands are already trailing down your sides, but you shake your head.

“No,” you say apologetically. “Emilia just sent out an SOS. We need to be in the office for a debrief in twenty minutes.”

Adrian makes a face. “Do we have to?”

“Yes,” you say firmly, and Adrian pouts.

“But we could just…stay here,” he says. “In bed. And not do that.”

“We have to go,” you say. “Come on. The sooner we get there, the sooner we’ll be back home, yeah? And then you can fuck me all you want. Promise.”

“Fine,” he grumbles.

Twenty minutes later, you’re walking in the doors at Checkmate, joint hands swinging between you. Adrian won’t lie. He’s a bit smug as he waits for everyone to notice. But no one even looks up from their desks, even when he clears his throat.

“Morning everyone,” you say, letting go of his hand so you can go grab yourself some coffee from the break room. “You want a hot chocolate, Ade?”

He frowns, but nods, because you make the best hot chocolate. 

He wishes you would call him baby. He wishes someone would look up at you and ask who gave you the bright purple hickey on your neck. You didn’t even bother trying to hide it with makeup. He wishes he wasn’t even here, sharing you with everyone in this godforsaken office, that he still had you home in bed, naked.

“Debrief in the conference room in five minutes,” Harcourt calls out.

Adrian sighs and decides to run to the bathroom before the meeting starts. But then, when he walks into the conference room a few minutes later, he feels like he’s going to lose it, because you’re sitting next to Economos. It’s like you’re doing this on purpose.

“Are you fucking with me right now?” he whispers, grabbing you by the back of the shirt. He pulls you up out of the seat and takes it for himself. He thinks for half a second about just yanking you onto his lap in front of everyone, but decides that might be a bit too much, and he would probably get a really inconvenient boner. Instead, he shoves you into the seat right next to him and pulls the entire chair closer so your thighs are pressed together and he can hook his ankle around yours.

Then he looks down at you with a falsely innocent smile.

You give him a look like you know exactly what the fuck he’s doing, but you just roll your eyes, swapping your coffee mug with his cup of hot chocolate on the table in front of you.

“What the hell was that about?” Chris asks from across the table, because Adrian has not been subtle at all.

“Oh, nothing,” Adrian shrugs. “I just really wanted to sit next to my good buddy Economos.” He reaches up to squeeze John’s shoulder, maybe a little too hard.

“Ow! That hurt, motherfucker,” Economos says, looking at Adrian like he’s grown a second head.

“Would you cut it out?” you say, rolling your eyes and smacking Adrian in the back of the head. His glasses go a bit crooked. “You don’t need to stake your claim. I will gladly announce it to the table. Adrian and I are finally fucking, everyone.”

“Jesus Christ, took you long enough,” Harcourt says.

“What?” Chris says, eyes wide.

“Did you really not know?” Ads asks, disbelieving. “They’ve been all moony-eyed over each other for literal years, Chris.”

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me you liked her?” Chris says. “I’m your best friend!”

“Hang on, why am I being involved in this?” John asks, bewildered, still rubbing at his shoulder.

“Because I hugged you after the mission the other day, and Adrian couldn’t contain his jealousy,” you smirk.

“Seriously, dude?” Economos scoffs.

“I thought it was, I don’t know, a sexy hug!”

“What the fuck is a sexy hug—”

You lay sprawled across your bed, bathed in the soft, silver glow of moonlight that poured through the open blinds, painting your skin in delicate shadows. Your thin camisole, pale and slightly sheer, clung to your chest, rising and falling with each slow, steady breath. Your shorts had ridden up, the fabric bunched high on your thighs, revealing soft skin that caught the light just right, and Adrian’s fingers twitched against the windowpane, it would’ve left a smudge had he not been wearing gloves.

He shouldn’t be here, he knew that. He knew the irony of calling out creeps while crouched outside your window like some lovesick gargoyle. But this was different. He was keeping you safe. If you’d just locked the damn window and pulled the blinds, he wouldn’t have to do this, wouldn’t have to feel the heat pooling in his gut, the tightness straining against his suit.

His gloved palm settled over the bulge between his thighs. The suit’s padding muffled the contact, but not enough. The seam along the crotch dug in when he cupped harder, fingers curling, molding the shape of himself through layers of reinforced fabric. A low, involuntary sound scraped out of his throat, barely audible over the distant drip of a gutter and the soft rustle of your sheets.

Adrian couldn’t take it anymore. His hand moved, fumbling with the zipper of his Vigilante suit, the leather sticking to his clammy skin as he tugged it down. The quiet rasp of the zipper blended with the distant hum of a car passing in the alley below, and his eyes stayed glued to you, tracing the way your body shifted, legs tangling in the sheets. Your lips parted, letting out a soft, breathy sigh that carried the faint scent of mint toothpaste, and Adrian bit his lip hard, the coppery sting of blood sharp on his tongue. His movements were slow at first, deliberate, but they grew frantic, matching the quickening pulse hammering in his ears. The cool glass pressed against his forehead as he leaned closer, his breath fogging the window in uneven bursts.

Finally free, his cock sprang out into the chill night air, heavy and throbbing, the tip already slick with pre-cum that glistened under the faint moonlight filtering through the blinds. The contrast hit him hard, the cool breeze teased his heated skin making him hiss through clenched teeth as he wrapped his gloved fingers around the base. The leather was smooth but unforgiving, gripping tight as he stroked upward, slow and teasing, feeling every ridge and vein pulse under his touch. His thumb circled the head, smearing the wetness down the shaft in lazy, deliberate swipes, the slick sound obscene in the quiet, mixing with the faint creak of his boots on the fire escape.

You murmured in your sleep, a soft, incoherent sound that sent a jolt straight to his groin, and Adrian’s hips bucked forward involuntarily, thrusting into his fist with a wet slap. His eyes devoured you, the way your thin camisole had ridden up, exposing the soft swell of your breasts, nipples pebbled against the fabric from the draft seeping in. Your shorts were a lost cause now, bunched so high they barely covered anything, the curve of your ass peeking out as you arched slightly in your dream, thighs rubbing together with a faint whisper of skin on skin.

He matched that rhythm, pumping harder, the glove’s texture adding a rough edge that made his balls tighten, drawing up tight against his body. Sweat beaded on his brow, trickling down under his mask, and he panted against the glass, each exhale clouding his view of you only to clear it again, like a taunting veil. His free hand clawed at the window frame, nails scraping wood, as he twisted his grip on the upstroke, squeezing just under the head where he was most sensitive. Pre-cum leaked steadily now, coating the leather in sticky strands that webbed between his fingers when he pulled back.

The scent of it, musky and raw. It mingled with the jasmine outside and the faint lavender from your room, turning the air thick and heady.

A shiver ran through you, and you rolled fully onto your back, legs parting wider, one knee bent and falling to the side. The sight of your inner thighs, smooth and inviting, the thin fabric of your shorts clinging to the outline of your folds, it was too much.

Adrian groaned low, the sound vibrating in his chest, and sped up, his fist flying now in slick, frantic strokes that echoed with lewd, wet smacks. His cock twitched in his hand, swelling thicker, the veins standing out as heat built low in his belly, coiling tighter with every glimpse of you.

He imagined it, crawling through that unlocked window, peeling those shorts down and burying himself deep inside you while you woke with his name on your lips. The thought pushed him over, his body locking up as release hit hard, ropes of cum spilling over his glove, splattering the fire escape in hot, messy spurts. He milked himself through it, strokes slowing to lazy tugs, drawing out every last shudder until his legs trembled and his breath came in ragged gasps. The evidence cooled quickly in the night air, sticky and incriminating, but Adrian just grinned as he tucked himself away, zipping up with shaking hands.

You were safe, for now. And he’d be back, always watching, always ready to protect you from everything but him.

wtk: DEAD DOVE - DO NOT EAT this is lowkey whump…, for x fem readers with a vagina. plot with porn…but really what plot??? idek lol, Adrian Chase AUASPD (autism + antisocial personality disorder), no use of y/n, age gap that they play into/lowk ddlg, thriller, sugar daddy x baby arrangement, dubious consensual workplace affair, infidelity, creepy unsettling pervy and misogynistic thinking, adrian performs gun-play on himself, “just the tip” dubcon, intimacy kink, both think they’re manipulating each other, blowjob/face fucking, “sweetie, pie, gorgeous, pretty little girl, & daddy, sir, mister, meanie” used as nicknames, yelling in argument, negging. smashing of plates, breaking & entering, full nelson p in v, condom sex (rare for me ik, wrap it b4 you tap guys!!!), the implication… is implied, murder, mentions of torture, aspd breakdown/narcissistic collapse, blood in non sexual context, gaslighting, shove in argument, exhibition, stalking, stealing, dacryphilia, breeding, angst if u squint or if ur sensitive lol

an: happy holidays! & happy new year! 2026, wow! thanks again for all the attention of my first adrian post, he’s so fun to write & you were all so sweet + welcoming <3 This was supposed to go up on Halloween, but I lowk went on a bender over that weekend and struggled to finish this for a bit after due to work & general adhd procrastination/laziness lol. not peer reviewed, just google docs spell check and a dream so terribly sorry for any mistakes. I’ll think about revisiting and fixing errors but for now I accept all the charges against me, your honor. This might be one of the darkest pieces I’ve written + uploaded publicly LOL and it’s funny because I feel like their sex is wholesome in this one? Just need to get all these dark ideas out my system before i can write fluff for him (and other characters, please send me ask/req!!!) 🙈! hold this for now though, until later ~

+ this is an au, he’s a manager instead of a busboy, more of an organized style serial killer than a disorganized serial vigilante. You are a metahuman! & for the purpose of this one shot you have thick healthy hair, whatever hair pattern/type that is! Okay baddie? Okay! however old you are, just imagine he’s 10-15 years older than you. In my case, I imagine he’s late 30’s. Has been married to his wife for 4 years. Heavily influenced by Nile from "the beast in me", & this 36 year old at my job who totally wants to fuck me LMAO #would (also more s2 adrian-esque looks wise )

“Yes, I know mom. Of course I’m being cautious when am I not?” You complained 

You moved in with your boyfriend of 2 years a couple months ago and your mom was still constantly being a worry wart. You know it’s out of love but it makes you anxious at times. 

Absent-mindedly listen to her instructions, giving a couple “mhm”s and “yeah”s here and there to show you were still listening even though you weren’t. 

“Agh, babe I hate when you do this” your boyfriend throws his jacket onto you 

You had a habit of turning invisible when you were either extremely underwhelmed or overwhelmed. You’re a meta human but he isn’t.

The disconnect felt isolating at times, especially now since the move and you’ve been having trouble finding a job in this economy but you tried not to take it personally. 

Besides, you didn’t make it a habit to use your power often. Only to get out of trouble but there wasn’t much of that around these days. 

“Okay. Love you too mom. Yeah, okay. Bye!” Finally hanging up you toss the phone onto a pillow and stand up, hugging your boyfriend from the back while he went through the closet 

He smelled of wet cement from his construction job, weed and a musky forest trail, raspberry cologne. a gift you got him for his birthday during your first year together and he’s worn it ever since. 

“Babe, is that just for you or are you selling again?” 

He halted whatever he was looking for, turning his head to the side to look at you a bit, “Why would you ask me that? I told you already I stopped selling.” 

“I know it’s just—sorry. Of course.” You unravel yourself from the position and sit back on the bed. 

Your boyfriend had already been on probation once for distributing substances, it took a while for you guys to rebuild trust. And even after you did, he never truly got back your family’s approval. 

No wonder they were worried when you said you were moving in with him but you were an adult now, making your own decisions and you decided to trust his word. 

“Can I borrow the car to drop off my resume at some places?” You ask

“Yeah sure. The key is on the kitchen counter, but need it back by 7pm on the dot though.” He replies without looking back

You stifle the sigh that came over you, it was getting discouraging not being able to find a job but more so having to share a car. Adamant on not being a burden or dead weight, even though he said it was fine with this new job you hated being another stereotype couple. 

You grab your folder with multiple copies of your resume and look through the job flyers you intended on visiting today. One of them was “Fennel Fields.” a nice Italian diner type restaurant you liked frequenting with friends and family. 

You tuck them all into your bag satchel, give your boyfriend a quick peck on the lips bye as he scrolled through his phone on the couch and were out the door. 

It was already 5:47pm when you were pulling into the very full parking lot of Fennel after having passed through 6 different establishments for a job, two of which even gave you an interview on the spot but you had a feeling you wouldn’t be hearing back from them. 

Your boyfriend already called twice but you weren’t in the mood to answer at the moment, getting rushed only stressed you out more.

With a sigh, you get out of the car and make your way inside the restaurant which was bustlingly busy. Family, groups, friends and couples filled every table, sports on each tv, and the workers speed walking around. 

You manage to flag down a worker at the bar, practically shoving the resume in their hand with a begging silent prayer. “Hey, I see you guys are very busy right and understaffed, I just moved closer to the area and would love a position. Any position, please.” 

The worker skims through the resume before looking back up at you, “How old are you?” 

“I’m 20!”

“Yikes.” Said another worker in passing

You ignore them, offering your best smile. You really needed a fucking job. 

The worker holding your resume looked at the scene behind you, it was like a tornado in here. Almost no space to move as people kept pouring in no doubt from a long day of work themselves just in time for happy hour. 

“Be here tomorrow for a test run. You start at 12pm. You can discuss the logistics when our manager gets back. Welcome and good luck, you’re gonna need it.” 

They extend their hand and you shake it excitedly, “Thank you so much, I won’t disappoint.” 

MONDAY

“Oh yeah, that’s the new waitress, we got her while you were gone to help with a rush. Real sweet kid.”

“Kid?” Adrian inquires.

“Mhm, she’s officially the new baby out of us, only 20.”

Adrian rolls his eyes. “There wasn’t anyone else? She’s not even old enough to sit at the bar.”

“Awh, give her a break, man, she’s 20, not some barely legal 18-year-old. Plus the customers love her already, she’s quick on her feet and competent at her job.”

He bit the inside of his lip to hold back on negging his employee for making hasty decisions without him there. He could taste metal.

He hated feeling this rage in public, outside of his other work, of course. It always reminded him that no matter how innately empty he was, human emotions weren’t above him. Even when he couldn’t understand others, he was drowned in the sick feeling of his own.

“Mhm, no offense, sir, but you have that weird look again.”

He didn’t respond, but he still quickly unclenched his jaw and relaxed his face, forcing personality back into his eyes as he broke into a smile. “It’s fine, you say she’s good then okay. Just make sure she continues getting proper training… and next time, never make a decision like that while I’m not here, okay?”

The younger man felt an unsettled chill run up his spine, the humid bar suddenly felt cool as the older man’s gaze stayed steady on him, his bright smile never actually reaching his eyes.

“Okay, sir,” he barely gulped out.

He pats the younger man on the back, firm and pleased to have regained control of the conversation and establish a bit of dominance. As the way things should be.

They both turn to leave, when the bathroom door swings open, and you sidestep the both of them, now in your own uniform. Freshly done braided pigtails following behind you. He caught himself staring at the way they seemed to dance in the air whenever you moved, hair never coming out of place in the chaos of your actions.

He wondered what it’d take for them to unravel. How they’d look disheveled and messy. Out of place. Undone. How you’d look.

He pulls his eyes away and takes one last look around: young couples in booths, friend groups watching whatever game is on, and desperately sad individuals throwing back drink after drink at the bar.

You were at one of the booths, taking an order for a couple that chose to sit next to each other rather than across. Gross.

A tight-lipped smile on your face as you were writing down whatever the lady was saying, ignoring the way that vile creature of a man was clearly taking in your legs in this uniform despite his madam next to him.

Adrian needed to go in to look over some numbers, but he couldn’t budge from in front of his office door, eyes remaining on you to make sure nothing inappropriate was going to happen under his watch. It’s his job, duh.

You stop writing and give one last smile at the couple, taking both menus and turning around. As you turn, though, you now roll your eyes in the privacy of your own space, pulling down your shorts that were riding up with one quick tug of the hand.

You feel a heavy gaze on you, and when you look to your left, sure enough, you find your manager looking in your direction. But your eyes meet his immediately and sure enough you can feel it: he had specifically been staring at you.

You’ve never spoken to him yet, taking care and learning of everything through your other co-workers since your hiring process was speedy, to say the least. It was busy, and they really needed people.

You offered a small wave and smile, a semi “real” one at another “comrade” of the food industry and, well, your boss, but as soon as you did, he faltered, blinking and then turning around, gone into his office without a word.

“Well that’s odd as hell,” you mutter, stopping in your tracks a bit. You know your hiring process was a bit awkward, but was a grown man really going to act this way?

You shook your head and continued on, making your way to the kitchen with your tickets.

If your “secret” eye roll he caught wasn’t enough to be curious, your direct smile to him almost ended Adrian on the spot.

Now that Adrian’s gotten a good look at your face, he feels sick. A mixture of curiosity, attraction, and the need to protect all brewing in his twisted gut. Mind already trying to feed him images of things that go against the fine line he walks to not lose control of himself. His true self.

The rules he just barely abides and plays by to be deemed a “normal” member of society, whatever that fucking means.

It’s insulting, he only worked there to keep a low profile since he’s super important, but you? You were a needle in a haystack.

He quite literally felt the blood as it rushed to his dick, the uncomfortable sudden strain and ache as a tent started forming in his khaki work pants.

No, no, no.

You were young, so young. Okay, well, at least much younger than him, who is very “merry” married, 37, and saw gray hair amongst his golden ginger this morning.

He was unc.

He groaned, pulling out some accounting files from a drawer at his desk and laid it out in front of him. He had to get these numbers done, last tasks, just focus.

He hears someone call your name from the kitchen, it’s muffled, but it’s certainly your name, no doubt about it. No one should be yelling at you, no matter the urgency. He picks up his trusty fine-tipped pen, the tiny metal cool in his hands. As he leans in closer to his desk, the shift causes his ignored throbbing cock to pulse, the movement giving a ghostly friction in his pure white Calvins.

A guttural groan escapes his throat. How pathetic, he thought, his raging boner was betraying him. How could you have him like this already? He’s been so good.

“Fuck this.”

Adrian Chase started fisting himself in the middle of his office, he even took out the secret gun he kept in his locked bottom cabinet and put the gun in his mouth to keep him from making any noise besides heavy panting.

He was just going through a bored phase with his boring marriage, ignorant of him to think he wouldn’t turn into those 30-something perverts who toed the line and danced with morality.

His strokes were getting sloppier now as he was getting closer to coming, spit coming down his mouth, nose flared and eyebrows furrowed angrily in concentration.

Everyone went through this, he wasn’t an asshole. He loves his wife, he loves her so much that he’s trying to hurry up and come before she calls him for his lunch break. 

Isn’t that considerate?

He looks at the miniature clock on his desk, 12:55:32. The gun was getting heavier in his mouth now, teeth fighting to keep it straight while his aviators were slipping down his beaded, sweaty nose. 

Not so he couldn’t potentially somehow die, but so these moans couldn’t bounce off these thin walls.

He feels his stomach knot up, voice strangled as his load shoots everywhere. Now in his hand, desk, and even the floor. As his dick goes back flaccid, he drops the gun into his lap, staring at the ceiling.

This was a one-time thing, he thought. It couldn’t happen again. He's finally settled enough to where he’s not under a microscope. His life is as mundane as everyone else’s, at least from the outside.

Perfect boring job, perfect boring house, with a perfect boring marriage. How could he have time to kill, officer?

He chuckles at himself, looking down at the mess he’s made.

“Oh yeah, her.”

He picks up his gun and stares at it for a moment before cleaning it with wipes. He then puts it back in his trusty locked drawer. He uses the rest of the wipes to clean himself up and as he’s tossing the semen- spoiled napkins into the trash, his phone rings. He looks at the clock: 1 p.m. on the dot.

A deep annoyed sigh leaves him before he even realizes, while picking up the phone. His wife’s full name across the screen. “Hello,” he states more like a question.

“Hey baby, how’s work?” his wife asks, a familiar voice coming through the other end of his phone.

For some reason, her voice sounded more nasally than usual, grating really.

He stares off through the window, watching the busy restaurant through his one-way tinted blinds. “Work’s fine, busy, what’s up with you?” he mumbles.

While she starts rambling about the day he couldn’t give less of a fuck about, you walk past his office with your own phone to your ear, a “fresh” stack of menus in your other hand. 

Thick, healthy pigtails are flowing behind you. He notices how you tied both of them off with red rubber bands to match the uniform color, not one hair out of order, despite the grueling warmth of a hectic 9-hour shift in a decently popular diner.

God, he wanted to tug on them while you sucked on him.

He felt the same stir in his stomach from earlier as his eyes remained on you, making your way through the restaurant as if it’s second nature already.

You fade into the sea of busy, buzzed heads further and further into the restaurant; his wife’s voice fades back in; he honestly forgot her there for a moment.

“Hello? Adrian, did you hear me?” she asks through the phone. He rolls his eyes as he answers. “Sorry, can you repeat yourself, honey?” The nickname almost makes him gag, 5 years in and he still can’t get used to it, but she insists on it for some reason.

He’d rather not argue over it, so he just goes along with whatever for formalities. If it helps them look like a regular new-ish-wed family, he’s game. Boring job, boring house, with a boring marriage. How could he have time to fucking kill, officer?

“I asked if you would be bringing food or should I order something tonight?” she repeats, louder this time, as if that was the issue and he wasn’t just tuning her out.

He looked at the watch on his hand, then the angular clock in his office. It seemed this phone call was going on in literal slow motion.

Well technically, Adrian could leave at any time, but it was his second week back and he actually gave somewhat of a damn about this position. He had already bulk ordered everything they were running low on and completed two deliveries today. Counting the numbers wouldn’t take more than 30 minutes. Maybe an hour if he was really bored and stretched it.

He knows that you, however, don’t get off until 8:00 tonight and he’s made it a point to start making sure you get home safely. As a manager should, of course. It’s a nice thing to do, the responsible thing to do considering the job you worked. Who knew what creepy customer would develop a fixation on you and stalk you and attempt to rape you? That just couldn’t fly by him.

So later that night, after finally getting through the numbers, assigning everyone’s tasks for tomorrow, setting up schedules and giving close-up duty to some random employee, Adrian watched as you entered some beat-up Toyota pickup truck on the passenger side, having to boost yourself up to get in accurately.

He hears some hushed talking before you close the door. Couldn’t make out what was being said, but the voice was distinctly male.

What kind of asshole drives such a tall car and does not help their lady get in? He tuts disapprovingly, setting his car to Drive and slowly taking his foot off the brake, eyes keen on the vehicle as he pulls out of the parking lot behind you, keeping just enough distance that you couldn’t see him in your side mirrors. He was counting on the fact that the driver, or you, wouldn’t look in the rear, though. The sun was set, but it wasn’t dark enough yet.

He’s taken a good mental note so far about some things about you, one of them being that you might also very much be taken. The same car is always dropping you off and picking you up. If not, you’re driving it. The face in the driver’s seat, your nauseating boyfriend (he assumes), has stopped by inside the diner a few times to pick you up.

He remembers his first real day back from “vacation,” which was really just time off for his other job, having to take care of and dispose of some creepy fucking alien monster things. He didn’t ask questions, never really cared to. Just got the job done. But when he returned, the diner threw a welcome back gathering for him. Which was weird, because he’s pretty sure he’s heard them rank him as the most off-putting person ever during a break he accidentally walked into.

It’s clicking now that you were there, he remembers you.

He remembered you standing by the door, a case of modelo in your hand to go, backpack on, standing by the door as everyone talked and laughed about bullshit into the night. He remembers some guy knocking twice, then coming in right up behind you, an arm snaking around your shoulder, grabbing one of the beers as he pressed a firm kiss to your temple.

The PDA was off-putting then for Adrian; he just assumed you were some friend of one of his employees. They told him then about you, though, but he wasn’t paying attention at all, on a phone call with his pal Chris when two of his employees came to him rambling off about a sudden rush, and they had to temporarily get someone.

He remembers them walking away when he didn’t respond, too focused on something Chris was saying, and when he turned around there you were hugging your boyfriend.

You made eye contact with Adrian as he had kissed you. He remembered the slight red to your face, you murmuring something about waiting until you both got home as you looked away, a slight nod to him so your boy-thing could get his grabby hands off you in front of your new manager.

He just scoffed then, internally gagging at the display, “these new kids these days” he complained to Chris

Now, Adrian was watching as your left turn signal turned on at a stoplight. He pulled back a bit, waiting until the car turned and was a bit further before doing the same. After a couple more blocks, the car stopped in front of an apartment building.

He watched as the male figure, your boyfriend who seemed to be your age mate, didn’t even open the door for you. He grabbed some bag from the back and started heading in, you trailing behind him as he opened the door.

Adrian parked from across the street, watching you both enter under the dim light of your apartment door that kept flickering. He’ll have to take care of that, can’t be dark when you’re coming home late from work alone.

He hated the way you let yourself collapse on his back, being led into the building. 

If it were him he would’ve carried you.

He hated seeing that boyfriend of yours entering your home. Your sacred home, you probably lived by yourself or even worse with him. You were probably high school sweethearts, “in love”. 

He was probably touching you however he wanted right now, having his way with your body. Your pigtails. A bubbling rage entered his chest as his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

He’s ugly. And has a stupid haircut. What the fuck was he doing coming into your home at almost goddamn 9:30 p.m? Genuinely, how rude, distasteful, disgraceful. Is this how young people behave nowadays? Coming in and out of each other’s homes at whatever time of the day?

And honestly, he was kinda disappointed in you. I mean, you knew better than that. You’re more put together, elegant. This behavior was for whores, people who didn’t value themselves. You’re moving too fast. Is that what you are, fast? Or were you just willingly subjecting yourself to living with a boyfriend in your early 20s? Might as well be in prison.

He sees a light turn on at the lowest level; your boyfriend just entered, two frames coming into view behind drawn curtains. He sees you being pulled into a deep kiss. His head tilted, eyes squinting in focus as he tried to make out the touching, but his phone suddenly rang, startling him.

His wife’s name once again emerged on the screen. Fuck, the food. Before he could either jerk himself again or slam his K-Bar knife through his own skull and bleed out in front of your house, he decided to gather up the last morsel of common sense, pulling out of the street and hurriedly putting the GPS onto a random food place.

THE next day,

Adrian was doing much better. Or so he thought. The goal was just not to think of you as a person. It sounded terrible, but the truth was that being able to even just call you “his” employee felt like too much of a possessive territory for him that would get him too invested in you, to say the least.

And it was working; he hadn’t thought of you since last night as he was currently neck deep into some regulations papers for the building when his door suddenly busts open after what was barely a whisper of a half-knock, you standing there with your hand on the doorknob, eyes furrowed in anger. 

You took a deep breath before speaking as if to self-regulate. “Sir, I need your assistance outside with a customer who asked for you,” you relay, your voice was shaky.

Well shit, this wasn’t going to work out.

3 WEEKS LATER 

Adrian needed time to figure out you and your boyfriend's schedule. Once he did that, knowing you’d be at your and that excuse of a loser boyfriend would be at his own job! 

One day while you were at work, Adrian decided to take advantage of his lunch break 

He swiped your apartment keys from your locker and made a beeline to yours straight from memory. 

“I know it’s around here somewhere…” he turned looking through the window and onto the street. He pulled up to the building that looked like yours and checked for your boyfriend's car which was luckily not there. 

Inside, your apartment was cozy and small. It seemed to be about 600sqft, a studio. Right next to the door was a small table with a coaster, to his left was the kitchen and right a tiny living room. There were two giant curtains acting as a barrier to your bedroom. 

There were men’s shoes all around the floor, “the fuck?, at least be with a man who can pick up after himself.” 

He made his way into your bedroom and your smell overwhelmed his senses. 

He poked through your closet and your drawer until he found a hidden gem, “here are all the goodies.” 

He felt like he found a goldmine, all your panties and bras staring back at him. He fished through them and until he found a bra that has definitely already been worn a couple of times and plopped on the bed:

It was pretty, wine red and the cups lined with black lace. He brought the item up to his nose, a small sniff and fell back fully onto the bed.

“Yeah, you’re coming home with me.” He brought the bra back up to his nose taking an even larger whiff this time, the smell of perfume and sweat entering his airways and making its way all the way down to his cock.

“Fuck, of course you always need attention man.” He said at the forming tent in his jeans.

He obliges to his body's desires, bringing his hand to his pants and the other holding the bra right against his nostrils to breathe in your scent while he undoes his zipper. 

He’s about to pull down his underwear when he hears the jangling of keys at the front, some heavy steps, and the voice of a male. 

Oh shit.

MONTH LATER

The car kept sputtering and tears were brimming your eyes as you stared ahead, nothing but road for a bit until you had to take a right turn past a gas station and into your neighborhood quarter.

“Stupid piece of shit,” you muttered while finally deciding to pull over so you wouldn’t at least cause any disturbance on an otherwise empty road.

You look to your left and right before grabbing your phone, turning on the flashlight and hopping out the truck. The chilly air hits you first, sparing no mercy as another gust of wind blows over from a car so clearly going over the speed limit. The fog feels moist, the wet grass smell overwhelming your senses.

A car is coming up, you can’t make out its model behind the domineering bright headlights practically blinding you. It’s driving at an eerily slow pace through the fog.

“Hopefully just someone really fucking cautious…”

You put your hand up to shield what’s left of your retinas and stick closer to the truck, making your way to the back. As you do so, you hurriedly search up road help services near you and click the first one with 24/7 roadside assistance.

The number rings, and rings, and the car gets closer and closer.

Finally, it connects— you set it to speaker. “You are calling Evergreen Roadside Assistance. Always there to save the day or night!” Are these things always so long?

The car stops, pulling over a couple feet behind you. Bright lights are still on. “To speak to an Evergreen roadside assistant please press one—”

You don’t hesitate, trying to not look over at the looming shadow approach. “C’mon, c’mon, hurry the fuck up, please.”

Finally you connect to an employee. “Hello, this is Jake with Evergreen Roadside Assistance, how can I be of service this evening?”

“You rush out your words after gathering where you are by your Find My and a single sign. “Hello, car started making a weird noise while I was on 26th Street and now I’m on the side of the road and so—”

The shadow figure stops right by your truck, two arm's length away from you. You make a point to show you’re on the phone, and the voice of Jake speaks through with a bit of an echo.

“I don’t need any help, thanks,” you whisper-shout to the figure approaching.

“Huh, you don’t need help anymore?” says Jake. You scoff. “No, sorry, not you,” you say into the phone, now pointing your flashlight at the figure heading towards you.

No way this was my fucking luck, about to get murdered by a Ted Bundy wannabe after a shift from hell, ha!

The figure coming up lets out a chuckle, putting something in their back pocket. They finally come into view fully, and it takes you a second, but you recognize that face and your heart settles— just a bit.

It was your new manager, Adrian Chase. Did he live around here too? You don’t get to ask before he speaks up.

“Hey there, stranger, need any help?” he asks, flashing a wide and bright smile. His hair seemed even more curled than usual, dressed in his usual attire: a polo tee that honestly seemed faded past its age, and jeans always a bit… tight around the crotch area.

He dressed more like a laid-back professor than the manager of a restaurant, but then again, it was just Fennel Fields.

“Hey, boss, you scared the shit out of me,” you say with a small laugh, still not hanging up on the line, just in case.

He shifts, leaning forward with a hand on his hip as he examines your tires.

“Damn, baby, these tires are way past their expiration date. You’re lucky you were even able to pull over.”

You cock your head at the pet name but don’t say anything, instead stooping down as well to see what he was talking about. “This is my boyf— well, it was my ex-boyfriend’s car. He broke up with me and left this. I don’t know anything about fucking cars.”

He tuts. “That mouth.” This time you snap your head, looking at him at the remark. He ignores it and mumbles something incomprehensible before taking your hand. 

You flinch, but his grasp is firm; he makes your hand reach towards the nearest tire, dragging the pad of your fingers onto it. You turn your head back to the tire. The sensation is flat, though a bit gritty and wet from, no doubt, the road. You had no idea what you were supposed to be looking at, though. 

“Feel that?” he whispers while still looking at you.

You don’t look at him, zoning out as you watch his much larger, and ever so slightly veiny hand guide yours. His hand felt like a furnace. Your heart was beating fast; you didn’t even realize when it started up again.

“Smooth as a baby’s ass.” He exhales that last part a bit into your ear, and it makes you jerk your neck, his breath warm in the cool night. It was ticklish. And made you aware you were much too close.

“Hello? Are you still there? If you can confirm, I can get one of our on-the-road agents to you in no time.” The voice on the phone, Jake, said. It snaps you out immediately.

You check the time on your screen, almost half past 10pm. Fuck, I have to get home.

You back up a bit and fully stand up, almost toppling down the small hill. He reaches to hold you up, but you reject it, positioning your feet firmly so you can stand straight.

His face shifts, seemingly dejected from the rejection.

“Well, what’s it gonna be missy? Expensive roadside assistance or a free ride, and I’ll come back to change the tires myself.”

You teared your eyes away from his, which seemed especially dark right now in the night shaded by his frames. You look at the car, all those tired looked bald like the one he made you touch. And it would probably be another 10-30 minutes until roadside assistance came.

But, Adrian, as cute and docile as he seemed, also kind of gave you the creeps. He was always staring, always. You would catch him, and at first he’d look away but after a while he just started smiling at you once you made eye contact. It was unnerving at times. 

He speaks up again, even taking a slight step closer. Both hands in his front jean pockets. “It’s late, you don’t want to be with a stranger, do you? I mean, what if that guy's a pervert.”

What if you’re a pervert? You don’t say that out loud though.

You furrow your brows at his claim, now suddenly aware of your attire as he studies you. You zip up your jacket. There were no other cars driving by right now.

“You’re a young..beautiful girl on the side of the road by yourself. You’re surely thinking about it, right?. Cmon, at least you know me.” 

He was right, you knew him more than you knew a stranger. Right? It should be fine. 

You sigh, finally turning to look at him. “I’d..really appreciate it but please let me pay for gas or the tires or both or anything. I’d hate to be indebted.” 

He laughs, “indebted? Over a ride? Cute but it’s fine. You’ve barely been working here. Save your money. You can owe me by picking up an extra shift or something but this is a courtesy.” Adrian even extends his hand out to you

More like sorry for murdering your boyfriend. He doesn’t say that out-loud though. And to be fair, he so was back to selling drugs to minors.

You stare at it for a moment, before looking into his eyes and shaking, “Thank you, really, Sir.”

“Sir? Don’t make me feel old. You can call me Adrian outside of work.” He doesn’t drop your hand, so you let go first. Pulling back and pointing your thumb at the car, “just, let me get my stuff.” 

You bring your phone up to your ear, and take Jake off speaker finally. “Thank you for the help but uhm, my boss Adrian Chase will be taking me home. Thanks again, sorry.” You exchange goodbyes and hang up. 

Adrian smirks, biting his lip as if holding back his usual smile. 

The name drop was on purpose, he probably knows that considering his reaction but while appreciating this kind act from your new dilf boss, you’d rather not end up as chopped Jane doe liver. 

You make your way to the other side of the car, opening up the driver's side. You reach over and grab your backpack from the passenger seat and necessary driving documents from the passenger thing. 

This city was filled with people with all kinds of freak abilities, and people who were just sick freaks. You decide to also turn on your location and text a friend that you were heading home, that your manager was dropping you off. You weren’t willing to take your chances. 

You toss the backpack over your shoulder and close the door, pressing on the key fob twice to make sure it locks. 

 Adrian returned to the car that same night. Deciding it’d be better to knock out two birds with one stone. 

He uses his own extra tires to switch out your old ones, along with a single spare that your boyfriend, ha, kept in the back. After changing it, he went to the local gas station to fill your car up with gas, and he brought it to one of his many storage units. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you back to your mommy as soon as I get what I need.” 

The next morning, Adrian showed up bright and early at your house. 7:30 am to be precise. 

You woke up to the sound of loud banging on your front door, still half asleep. Begrudgingly made your way to the door, cold and using your comforter for extra heat. Sure enough, there he is on the other side of the door. Hands behind his back like he wasn’t just knocking like the police. 

“Mister Adrian? What are you doing here? You ask whilst rubbing the sleep out of your eyes 

He giggles, “Good morning to you too pie. I’m here to pick you up for work, of course.”

There goes those nicknames again, wait, work? “Work? I don’t start until 12pm today.” 

“Yeah, but you have no car, and I’d rather you not feel indebted to anyone else or risk getting raped in an Uber that was already $30. Cmon, you can sleep in my office until your shift starts.”

You felt annoyed that you were actually considering his proposal at 6 in the morning. You had limited options, the bus being your main one but you knew even that would eventually pile up. 

“So, what’s wrong with the car again?” You asks genuinely 

“Well the tires were bald but I found another issue in the uh… engine so I’m having a buddy of mine check it out.

Well. That sounded, fishy but again, it’d be better to leave it in his hands than get fucked over by some mechanist over charging. 

In the little moment of silence and staring, your stomach growled. You couldn’t help the sheepish smile on your face, you went straight to sleep last night after your shower and didn’t have to eat your dinner or indulge in your late night break up pitty ice cream. 

“C’mon, I’ll make you breakfast in the kitchen.” He urged on and finally you agreed.

He waited in the car while you got ready and gathered your belongings. 

You felt nervous approaching his vehicle, this entire ordeal felt for some reason a lot more.. intimate in the day light. But, managers gave rides to their employees all the time. Nothing fishy going on here. 

You put your backpack at your feet, seat belt buckled, and start parting your hair for your signature pigtails. You’ve found that items are the easiest and best method to keep hair out of your face aside from a ponytail, which you were cutting back on to avoid traction. 

You had a tinny rubber band in your mouth, and you didn’t notice you guys hadn’t left your driveway until halfway through your braid. 

You turn to look at him and find him already looking at you. You finish off one braid and use the tiny rubber band to hold the ends.

“You stare a lot, sir.” 

This causes him to laugh again, breaking eye contact and starting the car. His arm goes behind your head seat as he looks back to reverse out the driveway. This car must be old to not have a back camera, but you don’t say that outloud. 

“I know. Does it make you uncomfortable?” He’s looking at you again

You start on the next braid and think, it didn’t. He’s so cute it almost makes you nervous. But, he’s married, your boss and can also be passive aggressively off putting to your other co-workers and some customers you’ve heard. 

But it doesn’t bother you. So you reply, “No. M’Just not much to look at.”

“Bullshit. Plenty to look at.” 

His comment makes you feel hot, literally. You felt the tips of your ears warm. You finish off your other braid and feel restless. 

You think back to something your ex said during your first month at your job. After he picked you up from your welcoming work party, he made a joke about how Adrian seemed to have a crush. 

He even pushed on to say that you should take advantage of said crush to make more money, “as long as he doesn’t touch you.” You remember him saying. 

You thought it was just drunken testosterone-fueled jealousy that men usually get, but was it true? You knew married men could be sleazy, but Adrian seemed so.. Adrian. You were surprised he was even married. You’d have to find out, now that you were living alone, you’d have to pick up extra shifts anyway.

He was finally pulling into the Flannel Field parking lot when he spoke up again, “Adrian.” He said, unbuckling his seat belt

It snapped you out of your thoughts, “Huh?”

“Earlier you said mister. I told you when we’re out of work, call me Adrian.”

“Sorry, it’s just-“

He cocked his head to the side, like a puppy listening intently 

Honestly, your stomach flipped. Just slightly. 

“Okay, thanks for the ride...Adrian.” 

He held eye contact for a bit, a satisfied smile spreading on his face before sliding out the car with his bag. He closes his side and starts walking around. 

After slipping on your zip up jacket do the same, meeting him at the front doors where he was waiting for you. 

“Ladies first.” He said with a playful bow

That morning, he made you a savory, filling breakfast. Wouldn’t start his own work until you finished it all, and once you did, he washed the plate himself, ushering you to go catch up on rest. He set up a makeshift couch by pushing some chairs together and covering them with his hoodies and coats. 

You slept in his office until 10 minutes before your shift. He didn’t let anyone in his office. 

Adrian barely spared you a glance once you got up to leave, besides acknowledging your small “thank you, boss.” 

He was beaming with excitement inside. You trusted him enough to sleep in the same room; that’s definitely progress! 

He just barely kept his hands to himself, not wanting to scare you away despite the urge to kiss you, play with your pigtails, feel your gentle breath, and exhale to learn your sleeping pattern. You know, simple things. 

After that incident, Adrian picked you up for a week straight. Insisting that the car needed some extra detailing and he’d drop it off to you that weekend, so you begrudgingly agreed, only if he also let you work some extra hours. 

“Is this a money thing?” He asked one morning, head turned to look at you.

His eyes are always so intense, and with him being older you felt like you couldn’t just lie to him. 

“Yeah. My boyfriend and I, before he uh…left, we were splitting rent and utilities but it’s all on me now.”

Silence for a bit as the radio show host makes a joke about the next artist to which Adrian giggles at before speaking again

“I can help you.” He says pointedly, eyes on the road and grip on the steering wheel slightly firmer, white knuckles.

Damn, he really did like you. You hated feeling pitiful but it felt stupid to decline help because of pride. You were drowning in bills right now, the only reason you were okay with not having your car back was because that was one less expense. 

You play with your fingers a bit, hands cold in the car despite the mild heating on your side. 

“It wouldn’t be anything crazy, just, to help keep you on top of anything important. I can do this because I’m your manager. I won’t take no for an answer honestly so please, just accept the fucking help.” 

You looked at him once he finished, his curls were done up and slicked back with some pomade. A quarter zip and Colombia jacket on buffing up his frame. Hands still tight on the steering wheel awaiting your response.

“Okay, thank you, Adrian. I would really appreciate that. I’ll be the hardest worker on the team. I swear.” 

Later that night, while Adrian was sorting away some files in his office you paid him a visit. 

You slipped a torn off note onto his desk that read, “Do you want to fuck?” With a poorly drawn smiley face. 

You can tell he read it over at least three times before looking up at you. 

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“Some asshole thought it’d be funny to write that and stick it in my closet. Kept it because it was kinda, just not from them.” 

He stared at it for a bit before looking back at you, his eyes trailing up your exposed legs, lingering on your braided hair, and finally staring intently into your eyes. 

“And?”

Now you were nervous, and slightly turned on. You adjusted the strap of your work backpack slipping. 

“Well, I just thought… if you ever wanted to, but maybe I’m misreading the vibes and if I am then just forget it but-“

“Are you implying, you want to fuck me, your married boss, because I offered to help pay a few bills?” 

God you wish you had a Time Machine, or a gun. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea again? 

His ring seemed to be staring at you now from its angle. 

“That’s, I’m sorry I just- no excuse. I’m sorry sir, please forget anything I just said. I’ll uh, catch a ride with Britt tonight.” and with that you're out the door before he can even say anything. Face hot with shame. 

SATURDAY MORNING 10:34 AM

The next morning you hear familiar semi-loud knocks at your door. 

You open it up and Adrian is standing there with your keys in his hand. 

“Morning sleepy head, you have a car again.” 

You peek behind him and sure enough there was your car with brand new tires. You’re so excited you react before you think, jumping into his arms with a big hug. Face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. 

He’s still, hands at his side when his words from the previous night hit you. 

 “Are you implying, you want to fuck me, your married boss, because I offered to help pay a few bills?” 

You almost jump off backwards when his arms shoot up to wrap around you tightly, pressing your body fully against his and wrapping your legs around his torso to make sure you don’t fall. 

You both stay like that for a bit, breathing in each other’s air. Your heart was pounding but so was his. 

His hands find your head, resting in your hair. He lets out a groan when your cheek is pressed directly against his. Warm, human, you. 

He finally lets you down, and you hate it. He’s so warm, and firm. Your hand lingers in his when you finally take the keys from him. 

“You’ve done so much for me, I don’t know how to thank you.” 

“Hm. Let’s just start with some coffee.” He says, walking past you and into your apartment. 

You follow him in, locking the door and setting the keys onto your coaster on the table near the door. 

Adrian already made himself at home, sitting down on your small couch facing your average sized tv. 

You feel his eyes follow you as you make your way into the kitchen and become all too aware of your attire. One of your ex’s old shirts that runs almost double your size and loose grinch pajama pants. 

Not sexy at all. 

You find a random Christmas playlist on your phone and press play. Set it up at an even volume before grabbing a mug and placing it under the keurig you got gifted 2 winters ago. You mainly used it for hot chocolate, your ex was the one obsessed with coffee. 

You go to sit next to Adrian on the small couch who smiles at you walking towards him. 

“Did you want to watch something?” You ask, grabbing the remote to hand it to him. 

He takes it and sets it on his lap, directly over his crotch area atop his jeans. 

“Maybe. Not sure yet. Have anything in mind?” He asks, arm on the back of the couch around you. 

The small puttering sound of the coffee machine working in the back was the only thing making noise. 

“Uh, whatever you want. I’ve actually been getting into this medicine show where-“ you’re cut off

“Put it on.” He says

You go to reach for the remote before stopping, just what is it about his tone that makes you listen to everything he says immediately. You almost reached for his crotch for gods sake. 

You’re mentally slapping yourself when he takes your hand and places it directly on his bulge. 

He was hard. 

The rough feeling of his jeans over the growing tent was a sight for sore eyes. Maybe you just haven’t been laid in a while but you felt your core getting wet. 

“I have a wife.” He murmurs, voice thick with want

You can’t help the way your eyes remain on his lips, licking yours in response. 

“I know.”

The coffee machine started making noise to indicate it was done. You go to get up, and heat all over your face and body. 

He observes as you go get the cup and walk back to him, hands carefully secure to make sure none of the hot liquid accidentally spills on the way. 

It’s silent. Air thick with arousal as you place the mug on a coaster next to him and sit down on the floor by his feet. 

He speaks up again, “We’ve been together for years. She’s good to me.” 

It felt more like he was self soothing than anything but you play along, careful to not scare him away. 

“I know.”

His eyes follow your hands, reaching for his belt buckle and removing it. You trace the bottom of his jeans before slowly tugging on his zipper, pulling it down to reveal his boxers underneath.

His breath catches, hand reaching to find your hair. He was slightly disappointed they weren’t in their signature style but he’d attend to that later. 

Your place still looked the same, just less man stuff. Sure you probably sorted it away in a box somewhere aside from the things he took care of. 

He wanted to steal another pair of panties from your bedroom, the ones he had lost their scent a while ago. 

“If…if it’s just the tip, it doesn’t count. What are we fucking prudes? It’s not cheating.” 

You looked up at him on your knees, positioning yourself right in between his manspread. 

Hm. Not sure how that was going to work but you nodded in agreement, “It’s not cheating. Just the tip.” 

You pull down his jeans, Adrian helps you by lifting up a bit so you can slide it down to his ankles. 

You could tell from his underwear alone that his dick was thick, thicker than the average at least. 

You reach to tug at his underwear, trying stop from your jaw going slack in awe of the view in front of you. 

Not only were his thighs incredibly toned, his dick was huge. No wonder his jeans always look so tight, he’s carrying around a 10oz spray can all day.

You go to wrap a hand around him and he anchored himself to the couch, a small moan slipping out when your hand makes contact with his heavy cock. 

His tip was beaming red, slit at the top begging for attention and as if hypnotized your tongue comes out to give it a soft swipe. 

“Fuckghn..”

You feel him shudder beneath you and it sets a blaze in your stomach, between your very own thighs as well. 

You squeeze your thighs, trying to apply some pressure for your own want before you take another kitten lip up his slit to which he lunges forward before falling back on the couch. 

You finally press a gentle kiss onto his red tip, and another before you start full on making out with it. You let the spit flow naturally, relishing in all his little noises and movements beneath you.

The amount of twitching from his sucking on his tip, applying firm licks against his veins, sucking on the little opening. 

Your cunt is starting to hurt from how turned on you are, his hand goes to your head and pushes you down, taking him fully into your mouth. 

You're gagging, tears pricking your eyes but he doesn’t relent. Doesn’t let you come up for air, he watches you gargle on him, spit pooling onto his hairy ginger balls before he lets go, watching you quickly come up for air. 

Coughing a bit before you look up at him. That was incredibly fucking sexy. 

You go back in, this time disregarding the previous til he had set about “just the tip” since he broke it first. You’re putting everything you know to use, eager to impress him. 

“Oh fuck, what-shit, just what are you trying to prove gorgeous?” 

The compliment amps you up even more, praise always being a nice reward. You position yourself better before hollowing out your cheeks and taking a deep breath, deep throating him all the way until your nose reaches the base of his cock. 

You let the spit pool a bit before you start moving your head up and down, his hips hamming forward as well to reach your throat. Your hands are on his thighs to keep you up, knees starting to chaff from the rug beneath you, but you were determined when he started ramming his cock in your mouth as if you were his own personal sex toy. 

His head thrown back, loud moans surely could be heard through your thin apartment walls, but you didn’t care because his noises felt like music to your ears. Encouragement to be used. 

He sputters a bit and you can feel liquid pooling into your mouth and onto your tongue, he came. 

You wait until he looks back down at you, opening his eyes before you swallow his load with a small, satisfied smile as a cocky lazy one spreads on his face. 

“Such a good little girl for daddy, eager to please huh?” 

He gives you a few head pats then motions with his finger for you to turn around so you do. 

You sit cross cross apple sauce facing the TV awaiting your next instructions, ignoring the painful ache in your cunt. 

Adrian felt like he could fly. The most gorgeous girl just gave him the best head he’s had in years. Chris would not believe this. He adjusted himself back into his boxers and jeans before taking a sip of the coffee you so graciously made him. 

You waited patiently, not turning or speaking up with all the shuffling behind you. You felt like you were on cloud nine. You haven't done something this excitingly stupid in a while. 

Was this even something you could tell your friends? Hey. Remember my cute married boss who definitely had eyes for me when I was still in a relationship? I’m fucking him now

Absolutely not, taking this to the grave you thought to yourself

Finally, you feel his two large hands pull your hair back, his fingers brushing your face to get some strands in the front. 

You ignore the shiver down your spine at the small skin on skin contact as if you weren't just full on blowing him. If not for your pride, at least to not ruin your source of income. 

“Watched you do this a hundred times already, can't get sick of it”

He parts your hair gently, careful to not tug too hard anywhere. He starts at the base, tightly and concentrates intently as the three strands of hair miraculously turn into a somewhat comprehensible braid. Proud with himself, he does the second half of hair as well, lost in the way it all comes together. 

He takes a picture of the finished result on his own phone, saving it to his locked hidden folder. 

You turn to him once he’s done, laying your cheek on his knee. His hand comes down to your face once more, cupping your cheek, tracing your nose, your lips..

“You look so pretty like this”

His sudden words stir something inside you but before you can reply his phone starts ringing. You sneak a peak at the photo and it’s his wife. 

Realization hits and you get up to back away but Adrian’s hand finds your wrist, tugging you down slightly into a quick peck before releasing 

What the fuck?

“Yeah, mhm, the donut place is like 10 minutes away? Oh, of course I can get there in time” He continues his conversation while getting up and making his way out your door, not sparing a second glance back. 

Only when he leaves and you lock it you realize he left an envelope of money on the coaster with your car keys. You don't even count it fully before you're already at $500 dollars. 

Actually, what the fuck.  

A WEEK LATER

Nothing for almost 2 weeks since you gave him that blowjob. You were starting to feel like you hallucinated it, but you can still feel his attention on you at all times.  

To be fair, you were semi-avoiding him as well. The heat of your brazen action still affects you whenever you catch a glimpse of him at work. 

That is until the weekend came by and he was at your door at 10 am on Saturday morning telling you to go get changed and get in the car.

So now, you were both at a corner store near his place, and you were getting something from the top shelf when Adrian rounded the corner into the aisle and stood behind you

“I told you, I like you in my line of sight.” His hand finding it way to your waist and resting on your hip.

His hand flexed over your dress you decided to wear, the thin material against the heavy weight of his fingers set a buzz in your stomach. 

You turn, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, “You’ll live.” 

Adrian trailed closely behind you, never letting his hand depart from your body, “Why don't we go back to my place.”

Were you two even at that level yet? 

You spin to face him and both his hands are on your hips now, pulling you close, voice low “How about it huh pretty? Wife's not back until tomorrow.” 

You lay your head on his chest, the small thumping of his heart beat soothing you, his hands go up to your head giving you slow head pats.

Being this close you could smell his cologne, and it smelled a lot like your ex-boyfriends. The one you got him that he wore all the time, it was pretty niche, but the smell was comforting nonetheless. Finally, you look back up at him, “Sure, let's go.”

His house was bigger than you expected honestly, two stories, oak floors and bright lights everywhere. His wife definitely chose it, she had great taste. 

He led you to the bedroom and you gawked at the Alaskan king sized bed with burgundy sheets. He follows behind you and closes the door, locking it as well “Just for safe measure.” he says while taking off his cap and lacing it on the large dresser in front of the bed, 

He points at the bed, “get on” he instructs and you do. Adrian stands in front of you, between your legs and pushes you back onto the bed. He then bunches up your dress, bringing it up past your waist before helping himself to take off your underwear with his teeth, 

“How needy…” you teased on your back now, looking up at him. His eyes seemed more blue now from this angle, the hints of green throughout his iris gave you comfort. His eyebrows, thick and concentrated. A soft pink hue on his face, his bearded stubble barely 2 centimeters long going down to his neck. 

You bring up a hand to touch it, the coarse feeling under your fingers making you realize how real this all was. He shudders when that same hand travels to his hair, fingers entwined in his curls. “Your hair grows long.” you murmur absentmindedly

“Yeah I know, it’s a fucking pain to deal with. I have to stop by my moms for a cut when I come back down…” 

Come back?

You're about to question it when you suddenly feel his finger slipping past your walls and into you, he gives a testy curl to which your back lifts off the bed a bit. Body pliable to his hand. 

“Wish you could see how pretty you look, all laid out like this for me, gorgeous.” Adrian slips in another finger, two now in you before he sets a tangentially slow pace. The sound of your wet cunt and his deliberate tempo filling the bedroom. 

He presses a few kisses to your throat, before going back down and sinking himself fully in front of your cunt, all while maintaining his pace. He brought another hand down to his cock over his pants, giving himself a few rubs while staring directly at your pussy,

You couldn't keep your moans in anymore when he adjusted a third finger in, curling them all simultaneously before he picked up his rhythm adding a bit more pressure while he went faster in and out of you. You were twisting, trashing your body around trying not to close your legs on him, but it felt so good.

Your reactions were close to getting Adrian there himself, every sound that escaped your lips making his aching cock ready to bust out the seams 

Your clit needed some attention so he brought his palm forward to apply pressure to your swollen clit, no longer hidden but instead rounded and asking for attention, the first press has you lurching forward eyes closed in bliss while he stayed there for a second before picking up the pace once more 

Your wetness was leaking onto his palm and the bed, but he didn't care, it all looked so beautiful. He groaned in pleasure when he felt himself come in his jeans while you let out a wry moan when your own orgasm his you. 

Adrian pulled out of you slowly, your legs slightly jerking at the sensation. He then brought his sodden hand up to his face and started licking his fingers one by one as you watched, still in a brain fog haze, but the sight kept you focused on him.

Adrian's phone starts ringing, and he signs while fishing it out his back pocket but answers on the third ring, “Chris! Hey buddy, what’s up?”

You tune out of his conversation, your heart wasn't pounding anymore, and your body was calming down. Legs definitely felt too weak to stand up so you allowed yourself to gaze around the room.

The curtains were drawn in front of the bed, a large dresser with men's cologne and women’s perfume, and jewelry. It felt so grown-up, in a way you didn't yet understand. You shift your head a bit, and on the bedside drawer was a hair tie, a candle, and a small framed photo of Adrian and his wife. 

You suddenly felt sick, turning and sitting up. You smoothed out your dress and put your underwear back on with swiftness before getting off the bed. Your knees were still weak, but staying on the bed any longer would've made you vomit.

Adrian was still on the edge of the bed, giving you a strange look, confused by your sudden actions while listening intently to what the other person was saying. 

He motioned with his hand for you to sit on his lap, so you do, his arm wraps around your waist, and his knee starts bouncing as if to soothe you. You can't help the small smile on your face because it honestly does help. 

From this close, you could kinda hear what this Chris person was saying, but it was muffled by Adrian's huge hand 

“Alright, yeah, I’ll be there by tonight. Of course, I fucking will man, when have I not? Don't start without me, I swear, Chris–” the guy hangs up and Adrian makes a shocked “o” face with his mouth, and it makes you giggle. 

He tosses his phone behind him, “You see the shit I have to deal with baby?” a hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a cheeky kiss, he slips in some tongue, and you moan into his mouth. You can feel the smile spreading on his lips before he pulls back.

“Was that call about what you were saying earlier?”

His hand pushes some hair out of your face, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip

“Yup, leaving tonight. Won’t be back until next week, maybe.”

You pout, and he leans forward to kiss you, even with you moving back. This kiss was harsher, lips firm against yours as if you were his for the taking.

When he finally pulled back again, he laughed, "You're so cute when you're frustrated. I’ll be back quickly, 5 days, not even a full week. And when I do, how about we go on a trip?”

Your ears practically perked up, “Trip?” 

“Yup, since I won't be here for Christmas to keep you warm, how about a trip upstate to a cabin? We could spend the weekend together and be back by Monday. Can you be patient?” 

You nod excitedly. You haven't been on a trip in ages and certainly couldn't afford a cabin getaway by yourself or with your ex, “Are you leaving now, though?”

“Yeah, just have to pack something.” He looked at the duffles sitting on the floor in front of his closet. 

You open the passenger side of his car and in your seat lay an envelope, “When the fuck did he…” you pick it up, and it’s even heavier than the last. 

DECEMBER 30th

The harsh wind blowing through your hair only got colder as he sped up, you were scared. Adrian had this crazed look in his eyes as he kept pressing on the gas. A diabolical smile as he kept looking back at you to see if you were having as much fun as he is.

You felt as though your heart was beating at a higher rate than he was driving, he suddenly brought a hand down to your thigh, offering a firm squeeze. Was it for you or him? Did he notice? You go to put your hand over his but he’s already retracting his hand, not noticing yours, reaching to turn down the volume on a rock song playing.

“We’re here.”

You look at the cabin, it was honestly a beautiful sight. Tucked off into its own corner, brown and tall with a wrap-around porch. A singular, but mighty light illuminating the way.

“I’ll get our bags, wait a moment.”

You suddenly felt a bit nervous. A getaway cabin in the middle of seemingly nowhere, with your manager of 2 months. He gets out of the car and goes to the trunk, you watch him in the rear-view mirror until you’re blocked by the trunk opening, him slightly disappearing behind it. You hear shuffling and feel the weight being lifted off the car as he takes something out.

You feel a bit antsy just sitting there; you reach for the door and push but it doesn’t open. Did he forget to unlock it? You try again, a little harder this time, and you almost fall out with how fast it opens.

“Woah, careful there, silly.” Adrian steadies you. “The passenger side only opens from the outside, an old car. Remember?” he states matter-of-fact with a smile.

You stare at him a moment and melt all over again. Just what were you thinking, scaring yourself like that?

After setting down your belongings you finally had a chance to relax 

You’re both on opposite ends of a long, leather black couch. Two pillows between the both of you, already placed there and one big warm blanket that somehow managed to reach both your ends and cover you. 

Elf was playing on the mini old school television but it honestly felt like background noise with the tension this thick. His legs, longer than yours, were reaching yours. Cold toes brushing against your own every time he made a movement. 

He was staring at the screen, only reacting to the funny bits. He looked soft, curly ginger hair all tousled in its natural state, green eyes behind his frames glued to the screen, pink lips tugged between his teeth. He was wearing a large sweatshirt with some college monogram on it, it was slightly ridding up with the way one arm was behind his neck, holding his head up against the arm of his end of the couch. The big tinted window was right behind him, it had started to snow. 

You allow yourself to keep looking at him, he did it to you all the time. There was some hair trailing down his abs, into the abyss of his grey sweatpants. This made you clench your thighs. 

God, were you really shamelessly horny enough to fuck your middle aged, very married boss?

“You like what you see?” A gruff slightly raspy voice pulls you out of your thoughts. 

Caught, damn. You decide to play into it, “what if I do?”

A beat. Silence from him as he observes you, eyes dragging over your body. You were most covered, wearing some new pajamas with the money he gave you. A long sleeve Henley with Christmas presents on it and a matching pair of shorts. Hair still in the neat pigtails he did himself.

“Ever try mutual masterbation?” He asks

Your eyebrows go up at this, you’ve heard of it but never got the chance. “No, just…see a couple videos.” 

Another beat. He looks up at the television, Elf is stuck in a split position on an escalator. He lets out a small chuckle before looking back at you. 

“Take your clothes off.” 

Your hand is tugging on the sleeve of your henley before he even closes his mouth again, you throw it over your head and place it on the table in front of you. 

Despite the blanket and heating in the cabin the cool air still hit you like a brick, you had no bra underneath so your nipples were already slightly hard, but you continued, taking off your shorts. 

his eyes zeroed in on your breasts as he was taking off his own shirt, his eyes remained on you while pulling off his sweatpants and low and behold, he was free balling, literally. 

You start as you usually do, trailing your fingers down to the slit of your cunt. Using whatever bit of arousal to tease at your clit. Your eyes remain on him slowly stroking himself with a small grin on his face before he dropped his already half hard cock

He tuts, “you’re not doing it right.”

Right?, this was always how you masturbated privately and “it does the job well enough.” You reply shyly, though your fingers halted its movement 

Adrian smiles at your admittion, “well enough? That’s nothing.” He makes a clicking noise with his mouth, the kind you’d make to call over a trained dog as he motions with his hand for you to get close and almost immediately, you do. 

He doesn’t say it but his stomach flips at how well you listen, still couldn’t get used to it. For such a strong personality you were quite malleable in his hands, like putty. “My gorgeous little girl, you just need someone to play with you huh?” 

You couldn’t help the pathetic stare you gave him, eyes all dopey and glassy, slightly humiliated at how much you were being babied while simultaneously relishing in it. 

He pulls you over him, both hands firmly gripping your thighs on either side of him before gently rubbing you down onto his thick slightly pink cock. 

Eyes fluttering shut, the sensation giving you the right amount of teasing pleasure. You tried grinding back and forth by yourself but he stills you. Only allowing you to move when he does so himself. 

He leans in and closes the small distance between you, knocking the air out your lungs as every part of him fills your senses. 

It feels like the first time you ever kissed him. His lips are plush. Strategic in the way the taunt and collide with yours. That desire stirring much deeper than just your stomach. He gives short taunting pecs, whining for you to open your mouth and you do. 

His tongue slips in immediately. Soft, pink, and sliding against yours with a delicious slowness. You can’t stop the little moans that come out each time he applies some pressure against yours and tilts his head to deepen the kiss even more. As if he wants you to consume him in his entirety. 

You love it.

You try to pull back a bit to speak, he’s looking at you wide eyed when you say “your lips are so so-“ you’re cut off when he nods frantically, “yours too baby but please let me just-mghm” he collides with you again, going right back to melting into you.

He’s gentle, almost nurturing in the way one hand travels carefully up and down your body, leaving you with goosebumps all over as the over hold the back of your head possessively so you don’t go anywhere. 

Eventually, he can’t help it either. The way his hips keep jutting up to get some pressure from your heated cunt. The images rolling around in his mind of everything he wants to do to you, everything he wants you to do to him. 

Both his hands slide down and find your hips, grasp firm, kneading your skin like dough. “I can feel, fuck, how-nghnn, wet you are” he whines. One hand goes to the front and you shiver, goosebumps raising the hair on your body as you mewl into his mouth.

Adrian loves the way you’re squirming on him. Trying to get yourself off using his body. His little needy submissive princess. He needed to feel how wet and warm you were. How your canal would suck him in. “Let’s try this again, huh?” 

He cups a handful of your ass with his right hand before trailing his fingers lower, he reaches back into the slit of your pussy, cool wetness that was pooling onto his aching dick meeting him half way. 

His left hand, still holding onto your ass moves back to your hip and starts moving you so that your clit was dragging back and forth on this deep red tip. 

You couldn’t even concentrate on kissing anymore, mind going fuzzy at the sensation of him knowing you everywhere. His mouth moves greedily to your neck, plastering the same wet and desperate kisses down your jugular. 

You almost let out a shriek when you feel his middle finger sink deeply into you, it was seamless but the way he immediately hooked his finger in you caused a knot in your stomach. 

“A-Adrian I need, m-more pleasgnm” you manage before shoving your head in his neck again, trying to shut yourself up and just feel. 

He whispers against you, warm and alive, “I know sweetie I know, daddy’s gonna feel you up real good. Give you all you need.” 

He starts picking up speed with his finger while he holds you down on his tip, the squelch sound of his hand ramming against you and your wet cunt fills up the room, over taking the movie playing on the screen. 

You moan and whine, unable to even speak. “God you’re so wet, all that for me, my little pie? Is all this slick for me?” You nod frantically, and He adds another finger in without warning, both now taking up space in your pussy. 

He slows down a bit to start moving you on his tip again while you get adjusted to his second finger, getting you more wet so you almost don’t even feel it. His own cock was twitching and leaking, pre-cum pooling onto the blanket, but it would wait.  

You manage to concentrate enough to string some words together, slurred no doubt in your state, “Daddy, sir, please I’m, I'm so close.” 

He coos at your warning, egging it on the way his tongue licks up strips of your skin. He could live in your skin. He wanted to bite, to fuse, to feel the warmth of your blood. 

So he takes a bite, harder than he meant to because you do shriek, “Augh, what the f-” you’re cut off in the way he pressed on last kiss against the indents of his teeth and goes back to your mouth to shut you up. 

He enters a third finger into you and starts going faster, the pace reigniting the knot in your stomach. Your eyes shut tight, and before you can speak again you come all over his hands, secretion dripping all over his fingers. 

He pulls them out and uses his other hand to keep you lazily moving against his tip, staring at you for your reaction as he brings up his fingers to his mouth. The smell of you alone making him feral, arousing something primal in him that he only feels after a successful kill. 

“You’re just as perverted as me, you may not admit it, but that doesn’t mean I’m done with you sweetie.”

You finally get yourself to open your eyes, still shaking and coming down from the orgasm. You don’t rebuttal as you watch the scene before you, Adrian putting his juiced fingers into his mouth one by one. Tongue wrapping around each slowly. 

He’s filthy, taking his time to savor it, the sight honestly made your pussy clench again. He felt it on top of his member. 

“Sit on my face.” He says it like it’s a matter of fact, the only viable option after what you just did. And honestly, you wanted to, but you were shy. It wasn’t a position you often did with your ex. 

“I can just lay down or-” his face darkens at that suggestion, eyebrows furrowed. 

“But that’s not what I said. I said sit on my face. Don't give me other options.” 

You started into his eyes, playing with the hair at his nape. Staring at his puffy pink lips.

“Well, I’ll make the decision for you.” With a small grunt, he shifts his weight and tosses his legs off their current position to man spread. Both feet stamped firmly in a wide stance before putting his hands under your underarms and with one swoop, lifting you up and sitting you down on his face. 

Your hands hold onto the window for support, looking down you had a clear view of Adrian’s eyes and looking up you had a clear view of the driveway and snow outside. 

It’s as if his face was made to fit your most like this, both his hands slid back down to lock in your legs, and he started shoving his lips into your soaked cunt, nose giving a tantalizing poke to your clit. 

His tongue starts lapping you up, eating hungrily away at your core as if you were made for him to feast on. With every squirm his grip tightened, holding you closer. Licking every crevice of your cunt, sucking on the juices spilling out before they can even hit his face. 

One arm held you steady and the other unraveled to go up your body, hand reaching to cup your tit. Fingers are already tweaking your fully hardened nipple before you can notice. Loud moans erupt from your throat, you didn’t even know you could get that loud. 

He starts grinding you down on his face, hard, suffocating himself in your wetness, in your glory. Moving you back and forth until your second orgasm tackles you. 

Adrian was practically humping the air, dick jumping and twitching at all the sounds coming from you. He didn’t even notice when he came, his thighs soaking in a mini pool of his own sperm. 

You barely have time to register what just happened, chest heaving, brain a complete mush. 

You attempt to get up, and finally he lets go, but as soon as you get your footing he stands up as well, knocking you down onto the couch. 

“God, I’m too lazy to even get up. I… I can barely talk.” You giggle, staring up at the tall wooden ceiling. 

Adrian got a handful of napkins and placed them on the table, taking one to clean off a bit of the blanket, his thighs, and the couch. He tossed it on the ground before patting his area. 

“I’m not done with you, come here.” 

As if moving to the sound of his voice, you did exactly that, watching him intently as he grabbed a condom out of the mini vase on the table. 

You position yourself in front of him, waiting for your next instruction. Core, already wet again at the thought of what else he has planned for you. 

He rips the condom open with his teeth and nods his head for you to adjust yourself, “Turn around, hands on the couch, ass up.” 

“Such a meanie” you tease while adjusting yourself exactly like he asked.

You clench, and oblige. Holding the couch firmly and putting yourself in a doggy style position. Thank goodness this count was semi-soft. This position always irritates your knees after a while. 

Adrian gives himself a few lazy pumps, then pulls the condom over his thick and aching cock. It was a sign, he needed to still feel you. His super human body is already ready to stick itself in someone and ejaculate again. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’m not leaving you out.” 

His eyes and hand travel from your ass, spreading them a bit and giving a medium land slap that echoed through the room. The movie is finished now, some closing theme Christmas song playing in the back. 

His hand counted up your body until it found your braids, he tugs once, gently, then again with a bit more pull. Making your head go back until you were looking at him right in the eye. 

“You have no idea, how many times since I first laid my eyes on you, how much I thought about fucking you like this, in these braids. How many times all I could do was stare at you, when I wanted to pump you full of my cum.” 

The moan that escapes your throat is automatic, and he swallows it by bringing his head down and connecting your lips, another hand wrapped around your throat as his tongue enters your mouth again. 

He trails off a few more pecks before letting you go to adjust himself, knees on both sides by your ankles. He spreads your ass cheeks a bit before repositioning his throbbing cock and delving it into you, your walls greeting him with its warmth. 

“Fuck, wish you knew how good you felt. My sweet, sweet, baby angel.” 

He groans while he offers one last deep push, really making sure he was balls deep, chest flat against your back. You could feel the lines of his abs while his cock twitched inside you. 

“Just gonna do this and…”

Both his arms go up over yours, knocking you off balance for a bit, before you lay all your weight back on him. His hold was strong, secure. You felt safe. 

“I got ya, I got you, sweetie. You feel that?”

Adrian gives a thrust; to get the waters and when you let out that little sound that he likes he feels good enough to keep going. His thrust is more coordinated now, you felt every inch of him pulsing in you as he rammed in and out of your velvet cunt. 

“Use your words.”

“Ye-yes. Fuck, you feel so g-good!”

The heat alone was enough to keep him warm through Washington winters, he was sure of it. He could live in it. Live in you.

Your arms were starting to feel heavy but so was the feeling in your stomach, you could practically see his tip bulging a bit in your stomach, you felt full, stuffed. 

“Almost there baby, fuck you feel so tight around me. Sucking me in all greed, huh you pretty little thing?”

Your cunt clenched automatically at his perverse verbiage, and it caused him to sputter a bit. Your pigtails were in his face, becoming undone with each thrust since there were no mini rubber bands to keep the ride at the end. 

“You’re taking me so, so well, bet you’ve never been fucked like this huh?” He feels his confidence growing when you can only manage an incoherent babble in response.

He keeps the rhythm, continuing to pour his all into you, sweat forming on both your bodies and your juices mixed together. His loaded semen ready to spill into your womb. 

It felt too good. 

“Adrian I’m-

“I know s-sweetie, me, me too.” He said chasing the high, picking up his speed while still remaining that deep angled thrust. 

“T-o…fuck, we’ll come together okay?” He reassured, placing a few gentle kisses on the top of your head. 

You nod eagerly, letting your body submit to the sensation you were experiencing. Letting your body and mind submit to him. 

“Come” he groans out like a wild animal, and your body listens, letting go of the knot that had formed from his consistent pumping. 

He comes too, a lot. So much that it starts spilling out of the condom and back onto his already sodden balls. You’re both breathing heavily, you can feel his heart beating against your back. 

“T-thank you.” It was honestly a feeble attempt at speaking, your voice too raspy to really pronounce anything. Mind sub-coming to sleep as your body caught up. 

He lets go gently, pulling out of you and placing you on your back on the couch before standing and stretching. 

He slips the condom off, dropping it into the pile of used napkins. 

Looking over at you, you were already soundly asleep. Cute. 

The markings on your body were all remnants of him. Good.

He used the last unused napkins to clean you up, removing any stain he could see. He couldn’t help the smile when he noticed the bruises starting to form on your hips and neck, the bite indent right over your jugular. Not too deep, but they’d at least last an extra two days. 

It stirred up something territorial in him, he grazed his finger over each one. Later. He said to himself, when you’ve recovered from these rounds.

Once done, he tossed the spoiled napkins in the trash. Blanket and clothes in the washing machine, and change into different clothes to go out and buy some food. 

When you woke up you felt sore all over, and freezing. You were covered by a different blanket but had no clothes on. 

You attempt to get up and your knees buckle, you hold onto the couch and table and low and behold, on the table there was a morning after pill, an Advil, a bottle of water and a sticky note. 

You pick up the sticky note

“Hey pretty, decided to let you sleep. 

Went to get some food for dinner 

Will brb :)”

“Sticky note instead of a text? Definitely getting old” you laughed but it was honestly touching. 

The handwriting looked eerily similar to the note you got in your locker but then again, most men had shit hand writing. Setting the sticky note back down, you wrap the blanket tighter to keep warm. He cleaned up before he left as well so after peeing, showering and changing into some fresh pajamas you started looking for extra blankets.

Your hair was still damp from the shower, the cool air making you shiver as you quietly shifted through the cabin for the right closet. 

“There should be some extra somewhere…”

You open up a closet door near the stairs and are met with a horrid dry stench. Like the aftermath of a long day at a a farmers market, or the butchers 

You flip the switch, and once your eyes adjust to the new light, revealing the cause of the smell. You fall back with a loud thud, arms barely keeping you up straight as you gawk in horror. an inaudible wry, trying to free itself from your throat as you look at what seems to be dried, bloodied clothes and a hacksaw  

You try to crawl backwards, further away from the scene, but your back hits something firm. Not only that, but you look up, and sure enough, Adrian is staring straight ahead at the scene, almost lost in thought before he finally speaks up.

His voice now like claws against a chalkboard in your ringing ears, “I told you to just wait for me.” he finally looks down, an eerie stillness. “Always my little curious explorer.”

The scream comes now, before you can even control it. Your eyes shut, refusing to even look at the sight of him for any second longer. It’s loud and guttural, but even then, it doesn’t truly capture the fear in your bones.

The sun was down now, you were in a cabin alone with a man nearly twice your age, the only car was his, and you just saw a pile of bloodied male clothes that seemed a lot like clothes for your estranged boyfriend.

You think back to the day before your boyfriend suddenly left, and you two were fine. Sure, you were both worn out from the constant working, sharing a car, and some bills, but you were fine. And the phone call, what had he said again? Fuck, why were you blanking now of all moments? His voice was shaky, but you had assumed he was drinking.

It all started coming back to you: the missing underwear, the car, randomly losing your house key for a few hours, the cologne… oh, god, “he was wearing his cologne.”

Your knees nearly give out as you use the last of your strength to lock the door. You look around in the room, remnants of what was just a romantic getaway, now a literal crime scene.

You force yourself up, ignoring the hot tears still trailing down your face, heart hammering in your chest, practically threatening to jump out.

You’re picking up anything that’s yours that you can see, launching them all straight into your duffel, trying to ignore the flashing images of what could most likely be your boyfriend and listen out for any faint noise outside, but it’s quiet, and that’s what scares you.

You shove on some pants that were lying around and your hoodie that was resting on the chair. Honestly, your mind was blank. The primary plan was to get away from here as fast as possible and figure out the rest later. You’re putting on the running shoes you had on when suddenly three unsettling knocks are on the bedroom door.

You jump up out of your seat in fear, but stay still, body reacting already, tense and shaking as you think about the dangerous man that you had just let in, on the other side of the door.

“Baby, sweetie? I know you’re in there, muffin, c’mon and open the door. Let’s talk,” he coos. He fucking coos, as if this situation was totally normal, as if he was just lying or cheating.

There’s a bit of shuffling, and shaking of the knob before he speaks up again, “Babygirl? You didn’t unlock the door, how are we supposed to talk, huh?”

“Just please, let me leave, Adrian, I won’t tell anyone what I saw, I promise, just please,” you murmur at the end, breaking down again now.

“Leave, leave?” he repeats. “That can’t be right, could’ve sworn I just heard you say you want to leave me. Over what? A minor fucking mistake that you won’t even let me fucking explain? Open the goddamn door, please.”

You scoff, laughing at the “please” he inserted at the end, as if you didn’t just witness and smell the rotting clothes of your fucking ex-boyfriend. You look around for something to help you, frantic as the pulling of the doorknob gets louder. You dig through one of the mini compartments in your duffel bag and find a pen. It would have to do if all else fails.

It’s quiet, too quiet.

You slip the pen in your bra and turn, and the door is still closed. You get down on the ground, your face touching the floor, which would’ve repulsed you, but you were attempting to see if his feet were still at the door. They were, until he walked to the left.

What the fuck? Where was he going? Was he actually leaving, or was it a trick to lure you out?

You get up, brushing your face off and taking light steps to the door, careful not to make any noise on the antique wooden cabin floors. Your heart is practically bursting out of your chest; you had to hold your breath to ease yourself into even getting close to the door, afraid of him hearing you.

You put your ear against the door, quiet as a mouse. Nothing. Not a peep. That is, until you hear a soft repetitive—

“I am so incredibly fucked you— nah, you can’t even begin to imagine, but we don't have to be like this. We can just go back to before you decided to be a fucking nosy rat,” He growls the last part, figures large and daunting as he steps towards you, and you, your heart pumping out of your chest.

He looms over you fully now, in your space.

“This is nothing, but you didn't want to let me fucking explain.” His eyes go big as he huffs, frustration in the shake of his fists alone, barely containing themselves at his side. “Look at me, look at me!” he yells, and you finally do, hot tears streaming down your face.

Where did it go wrong for you, or was it wrong all along?

“How could you do that to him, to anyone? Why me?”

Adrian laughs like you asked an audacious question, “This doesn’t have to be like this, why do you have to go snooping around in places your nose doesn’t belong, sweetie?”

You didn’t take the silly work gossip too seriously then, I mean really what could this seemingly bland old man who managed some dingy diner be so adamant on hiding? This was far worse than you could imagine, the snarl in his words cutting the air.

You could tell he wasn’t going to hurt you, but it wasn’t harmless, it seemed the anger almost confused him at the moment. Like he was lost in it, no, at home in it.

Shaking, cowering really in the corner as he continues puffing out air, muttering to himself now in small spaces. Still in your general direction, blocking you but no longer breathing your air, but you still couldn’t breathe.

Your throat was tight, hot tears now drying, mouth literally shaking from all the whimpers you can’t hold back. And you felt sick because your cunt was still damp against your panties. You were wet. How shameful.

This weekend was perfect, truly. How could it end like this? You could’ve never imagined, but maybe it was there all along. You sink down to the floor, your knees limp, barely holding you together in the first place.

He barely casts you a glance as he starts looking around the room, still muttering to himself as he picks up his own items and starts shoving them into the other duffel bag.

Your throat hurts, but you force yourself to try to speak after some time. “What are you doing?” you manage to rasp out.

Before he even turns around you activate your ability, turning invisible. 

You hold in your breath, though not necessary but the fear alone made you feel like your heart was beating too loudly. 

“Where the fuck did she go?” he calls out your name, and you almost slip on a shirt on the ground. 

As soon as you regained your composure, and he was a bit further away, you snatched the duffle you had been repacking and bolted out the door. You have a 5-second head start considering everything you touch also turns invisible but once he noticed it was missing and heard the squeaking of the steps, he rushed behind you. 

You pick up speed and once downstairs your eyes lock in on his car keys on the kitchen island on top of another envelope next to the bag of groceries

Would it be so wrong to steal from a potential murderer who may have tortured your boyfriend? 

You pick up the key and envelope in one go, almost tripping over the living room carpet with how fast you're running. Your arms were beginning to get tired, and when you looked back, Adrian was at the top of the steps, clearly assessing the situation. 

You set down the things on the couch for a moment, tiptoe back to the kitchen, and begin throwing a bunch of plates and silverware on the floor between the kitchen and living room to create more distance between the two of you while walking backwards

He had his glasses on now and definitely saw the carpet move from where you tripped, and where all the ruckus was coming from, he bolted down the stairs.

You pick everything back up once he's at the end of the steps, and this gives you the extra fuse of energy you needed to make a beeline to the door

"What a neat little trick, so you can turn invisible, huh?"

Once outside, you toss everything in the car; you can worry about double-checking later. You hop into the driver's seat and insert the key into the key fob. With your foot on the gas, you repeatedly try to reverse out of the driveway, but the car won't start.

The cabin door swings open and reveals Adrian, walking out with bloodied feet, dragging a trail of red behind him with each step

A quick glance at him, you would not be able to tell you were in a high-stress situation. He seemed perfectly calm, walking towards you. 

You're hitting the wheel now, doing whatever internal prayer you know for the car to move, “C’mon, you fucking junker, start!” 

That seems to work; the car revs, and you swerve out of the driveway. This makes him pick up his speed, now running head-on, but it's too late. Thankfully, you're fully pressing onto the gas, going 40 over, and ignoring the speed limit of the quiet road 

Shadows flick by. Flashing in a rave-like manor. Silent and bright.

Adrians fingers grip at your cheeks as he looks down, making intense eye contact, motioning you to be quiet. You shift causing your hips to bump lightly across one another. He stills, looking down between you. Pelvis to pelvis. The plates on his suit hard against your clothed thighs.

Adrian sucked in a quiet hiss at the sight, inhaling while extending his other arm to brace himself on the wall behind you, essentially leaning more into your space. Like he did with you, you shove your palms over his mouth, his chest heaving as your elbows rest on the blue and white arrows painted on his breastplate.

Countless times you told him there were too many for you both to take on. Should have ran.

A door slams and commanding voices ring through the building, frightening you both into freezing. Heartbeats hammering against ribs, listening for footsteps. Any kind of indication on how fucked you both could be. Adrian leans in closer to you, his armoured frame covering yours. Shielding you away from the doors.

There was nothing. No other sound of additional armed assailants as the voices slowly fade away. But who knows for how long?

His leg slips between yours, thigh pressing right to your core, a breath sighing between your fingers as he slumps in a little relief. Your eyes dart to his but he was more concerned at keeping watch of the door.

Muffled you quietly murmur his name behind his hand. He pushes his large palm firmer to your lips, turning to stare down at you again with a furrowed brow. ‘Shut up’ written across his features. Your own hands stay pressed across his mouth, feeling the heat of his breaths coming in quick succession. He moves slightly, bending to peer through the sliver of light the slats of the closet door provides. His thigh pressing harder into you.

You’re fucked. You’re so fucked.

One of your hands shoot down to grab at the meat of his thigh, trying to push it away just a little bit, standing on your tippy toes. Just enough so you don’t moan at the contact. Adrian lurches at your touch, his braced arm faltering and grabbing at your bicep.

You both stand there for a couple of seconds. Panicked breathing, encroaching upon one another. Your eyes flick down to his leg and his gaze follows.

Adrian instantly goes still. Taking in the image before him. As though it wasn’t his thigh slotted between your legs.

Tentatively he lifts his thigh up, wedging against the seam of your jeans before gently pulling away. Watching as your eyes fly up to his in a quiet whine. He does it again, seemingly enjoying your reaction, absorbing your tiny annoyed whimpers.

Slowly, he slides his hand from your mouth to your jaw, tipping his head down towards you. Your other hand stays put on his lips as he nudged your mouth to your knuckles. His lips press firmly into your palm. Effectively "kissing" you through your own hand.

He bucks his hips into you experimentally, looking at your expression to gauge just how far he could go. Your fingers tremble over his cheeks, the others squeezing hard into the muscle of his thigh. A quiet mumble spills from his lips, warm in your palm. “This okay?”

The pressure was delicious, almost made you forget you’re both actively trying not to get caught. Maybe that was the point. Maybe thats why you rut your core up against him the second he bucks into you again.

You nod. You nod so harsh you could have rattled your brain.

Adrian pushed your faces closer together, shoving you gently back against the wall to lick and nip over your palm. Hangers clicking, long coats and dresses enveloping your bodies in a darkness of cloth. Your own lips pressed firm to the top of your hand, wayward gasps escaping over the skin.

“Kiss me.” He whines into your hand under his breath. “Just a little, please.” His own roams across your front, grabbing at your chest. Squeezing lightly.

Cautiously, your fingers trail down his face, landing to grip the collar of his suit. You blame the stuffiness in here. Lack of oxygen. That’s it.

His lips hit yours in seconds. Surprisingly soft. Leaving quiet gentle pecks. He moves to cup your face, tilting you ever so slightly to kiss you deeper. Rocking his thigh back and forth, nudging your clit with every steady movement.

“Adrian-” you mumble, a familiar warmth bubbling below your stomach. He shushes you, pressing little incoherent whispers to your mouth only to lick across your bottom lip.

It was building fast. Too fast.

“Adrian please-”

“I know, just..” his own groans strain as he pulls back, swallowing quietly only for his own thrusts to move faster against your hip. “Please.” His expression was devastating, that of someone at the edge of blissed out and infatuation. Lips swollen, eyes glassy. Before your brain caught up, you find your hand slipping under his high collar. Cupping the back of his neck. Nails digging into the skin.

You push your hips up against him, letting the pleasure roll over you. Letting go of the tension. Anchoring yourself to him. Dropping flat from your tippy toes to rest your weight on his strong muscle.

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth. Eyes squeezing shut. He was so hard against you. Slotting himself right where thigh met hip. Each thrust pulling your core higher up onto him until he suddenly reaches down to roughly clasp at the back of your lower glute, dragging you fully onto him. Pushing his hardness into the bend of your leg.

It was too much. The angle hit higher. Nudged just right. You whimper.

“I’m gonna-”

Adrian knocks his lips to yours again, nose pressing against yours. Harsher than before. A desperate effort to keep quiet. “It’s okay. Me too- me too.” He pushes into you faster, causing you to pull at him. Dipping his head down to your level until it hits you.

You cum gripping a the short buzz at the base of his neck, whining high into his mouth.

Adrian stills, his hips twitching, stomach tensing. His brow dips, spilling into his pants.

Silence. Heavy yet blissed as the ringing in your ears slowly dissipates.

Nothing but your huffs and Adrians cut off whimpers were made as you both slowly un-slotted yourselves from one another. Adrians tremor over your cheeks. Warm and unwilling to let go.

You give his lips one last peck before awkwardly dipping your head through the clothes to peer through the closet slats once more. Adrians gloved hand slips into yours, mirroring you.

“Get your mask.” You shuffle to peak your head slightly out between the doors. Trying to ignore the overstimulated throb your overworked clit gives you. “We can- we can head for the window.”

“What about my pants?” Adrian pouts, pulling on his mask.

Looking back, light gleaming in through the cracked doors. Adrian is illuminated within the suffocating shadows. A spot of darkened wetness blooms over the front of his vigilante suit.

“Call it payback.” You beam, squeezing his hand before stepping out into the abandoned bedroom once more. B-lining it to the window.

“Payback for what?”

“For that dumbass stunt you pulled back there.”

“That’s actually so fucking cruel.” Adrian whines, tucking the fabric of his mask into the neck of his suit, following you close behind.

You shove open the window frame, Adrians hand coming up over your head, keeping it open as you hop out onto the overgrown front lawn.

“Think about it later when we don’t have a Tail okay Vig?” You begin speed walking in the direction you think the Sebring was last parked. You should talk about what just happened. But not now. You don’t really even know yourself.

Adrian steps out, closing the window nonchalantly before jogging up next to you. “Was it at least as good for you as it was for me?” He takes your hand back in his. You should pull away. But you don’t.

“We can talk more in the Sebring okay?” You tug at him to walk faster. Ignoring the little hesitation in Adrians movement.

“… It was okay yeah?”

You look back at him, your grip tightening.

Through his mask all you can make out is his eyes. Worry written across his red tinted brow. His question quiet, dripping with guilt.

A sigh leaves you. Your speed walk coming to a complete halt.

Was it how you imagined your first time doing something like that with Adrian would go? No. In fact you never really thought something like that would happen with him period. But it wasn’t disappointing. A bit frat party esque sure. Nothing you weren’t up for though.

“It was Adrian. I promise.”

His demeanour shifts. Back straightening a little. “Would you say it was an okay seven minutes in heaven?”

You grimace. Dragging him to begin the speed walk once again. “Never say that again.”

Adrian scoffs. “Well, maybe we should do it again.” You both slip away from the abandoned cul-de-sac. Dipping into a forested area where his car was last seen.

“Just so you have a comparison.”

“Holy shit. There really is another you.”

You’re currently in a basement, looking at a perfect copy of Adrian, both in their Vigilante suits, the only difference the frames of their glasses as they beam at you. 

“I told you… exactly like me!” Adrian — your Adrian — grins at you. 

You reach out, then hesitate. 

“Sorry, can I…?” you ask the Other Adrian, he nods, then steps forward as you put your hand on his face. He flinches slightly when your hands make contact. 

“Your hands are so cold,” he mutters as you feel at his face. 

“Yeah. Adrian dragged me out of bed and I didn’t have time to get dressed properly,” you explain. He lets you keep feeling at him, pushing his head into your hands so you can run your fingers through his hair. 

Just like Adrian said, they’re exactly alike, they feel exactly alike. Next to him, Adrian pouts. 

“You never get that touchy with me,” he complains, “you just met the guy.”

Laughter bubbles from your chest as you let go of his doppelgänger. 

“Adrian we sleep together,” you say, but you give him the same once over, let your hands linger on his cheek. You put a hand on each of them, trying to compare the feel of them. Your Adrian moans a little when you drag your thumb across his bottom lip; Other Adrian just sighs softly, lets his lips fall apart slightly for you. 

“So about that thing you wanted to try,” your Adrian starts.

“I wanted to try? Or you suggested,” you ask as you keep feeling at their cheeks, squishing them so they’re making funny faces. Neither makes a move to remove your hands, but they sigh in audible relief when you let go. 

“I guess I suggested it, but you were so agreeable–” he stops when you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“I’m sorry what thing did you wanna try?” Other Adrian asks, patting his suit down as his eyes flick between you and Adrian. 

Adrian hesitates only slightly before saying “She wants to see if she can tell the difference between us if we fuck her while she’s blindfolded.”

Before you can even begin to remind him that it was his idea, Other Adrian’s eyes are widening and he’s saying excitedly, “Like an experiment. Test exactly how similar we are?”

He adjusts his glasses as he looks between you and your Adrian. You feel shy all of a sudden, in nothing but a thin sleep shirt and shorts. 

“Yeah, yeah, an experiment. We’d obviously have to test different things, you know see if she can taste the difference or feel the difference better. We’ve gotta take turns on her naturally,” your Adrian’s hand comes down so he can adjust himself. They’re both staring at you so you turn your attention to everything else in the basement. There’s a little work bench, where what you can only assume are half-finished bombs lay waiting for attention. There are tools and tool boxes on every available surface. Except the very old couch. 

“That sounds fun. Is that why you’re here,” Other Adrian grins as he follows your gaze. They both guide you over to the couch, grips uncharacteristically tight as they half push you down onto the cushions. 

“First we should see if she can tell the difference just by taste,” Other Adrian says as he starts taking his costume off. It looks like a lightbulb goes off in your Adrian’s head as he follows suit, the two of them chattering excitedly. You’re fixated on their hands as they work when your Adrian yells out. 

“You have to close your eyes. Otherwise you’ll just know by left or right. We need to be thorough,” he says, as him and Other Adrian wait patiently for you to close your eyes. 

“And turn around,” one of them says. 

And turn around. 

You turn so you’re kneeling on the couch instead, your chest resting on the back. Not being able to see them getting undressed has you impatient. You hear them stumbling, the unclasping of various attachments as you wait, heart beating in anticipation. 

You hear some whispering and then soft footsteps as one of them walks up to you. Something soft is tied across your eyes. 

“Spoiler, it’s me. Brought this along with me so I didn’t have to use my sock this time,” you snort softly at how proud of himself he sounds. 

“Good job, Adrian,” you smile as he ties it softly around your eyes, guides you back into sitting on the couch. You can imagine the way he twitches at that probably, see the goofy little grin plastered across his face. 

“You guys need to come a lot closer if you want us to do this,” you say as you reach your hands out. Both of them take a hand in theirs, place it over their still-clothed crotch. They’re both hard, hot and thick beneath the cotton. You hear one of them whine when you move your hand away so you can feel at their thighs. You press your own together when your hands press into the strong muscle and you feel the light dusting of hair underneath your palms. You press a kiss to one thigh, and then the other. You play a game of eenie meenie miney mo, before pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Left Adrian’s thigh. His hands immediately come down into your hair, a drawn out whine filling the room as you press your tongue to his base through the underwear. Your hands travel up his thigh, as you keep pressing kisses to him through his underwear. He twitches, bucks his hips up into your mouth every time you lay your tongue flat against him. When you think he’s hard enough you pull his underwear down and run your tongue around his tip where he’s already leaking. You feel want pull at your insides as you taste him and he whines out again, his fingers curling impossibly tight in your hair. You’re gathering spit in your mouth so you can drag your tongue up the length of him, base to tip, in a maddeningly slow line. 

“Holy shit,” you hear Right Adrian whisper, his hand on your back as you lean forward to take Left Adrian into your mouth. You can feel the heat of his palm as he rubs circles into your back through your shirt, encouraging you as you bob your head. Left Adrian brings his hands down to cup your face as you move, his thumbs pressing into your cheek as he pushes himself further into your throat. He stops when you gag a little, throat closing around him. 

Not your Adrian.

Your Adrian, pushes his hand into the back of your head as he pushes you further down. You feel like you can hear him saying “she can can take it,” but you’re too distracted by the tears in your eyes as you feel Other Adrian’s tip drag against the back of your throat. You whine around him, as you take shaky breaths through your nose. He moans out when you hollow your cheeks around him, hips stuttering as he gently rocks his hips into your mouth. You feel your Adrian take your hand in his, press it over his crotch. You take the hint, rubbing at him through his underwear.  Other Adrian ask out gently, “do you know yet?” 

You shake your head gently, still swallowing around him. 

“Probably gonna have to try both of us to compare,” your Adrian says. You let him slip his underwear off then go straight to wrapping your hand around him, thumb spreading pre-cum around his head. You can feel yourself growing more aroused, throbbing gently as both of them moan. 

“Probably,” you laugh softly when you pull off of Other Adrian. 

You press a kiss to your Adrian’s leaking tip, and he whines above you. You don’t hesitate, taking all of him into your mouth. He’s not anywhere near as gentle as Other Adrian as he settles into his rhythm, hands cupping your face, tilting your head up. 

“Wish I could see your eyes, I bet you’re tearing up, you al—”

You hear a grunt, and you can only assume other Adrian has hit him to stop him from accidentally outing himself. You pretend not to have noticed, just working him slowly, bringing both your hands to his thighs while Other Adrian moves your head along his length. You double tap your Adrian’s thigh and he lets you pull off immediately. You’re breathing heavy, and you can feel the tears gathered on your lower lash line. 

“Well?” they both as in unison. 

You lean back. “Still can’t tell,” you giggle. 

You wonder whether they know you’re lying. 

You hear a fast, hushed deliberation.

“Okay we’re gonna shuffle ourselves. In case you’ve figured it out already then we’re gonna try something else,” you hear your Adrian say, then you hear the shuffle of their feet as they move around each other in front of you before they each sit on either side of you. You pout. You liked having it figured out this early. They laugh, before they each move your hand over their cocks. One of them turns you to face him, then pushes his lips into yours tongue immediately swiping over your bottom lip. His lips are slightly chapped, and he nips at you hungrily.  The other one presses a kiss on your neck as you slowly move your wrists, smiling when the Adrian you’re kissing moans into your mouth. You disconnect briefly when the both of them start pushing your shirt up. 

“You didn’t wear a bra?” Both of them ask in stunned unison. 

“Hey, I was dragged out of bed at two in the morning. I didn’t have time,” you whine. They both laugh as the other Adrian turns you to face him. When he presses his lips to yours you feel a slither of disappointment. He kisses you exactly like first Adrian, all chapped lips and hurried impatience as he licks into your mouth. The one behind you puts his hands on your waist while the Adrian you’re kissing brings his hands up your chest so he can push your breasts together. He groans into your mouth and you tighten your hands around both of them, sighing out when they buck into your fists. First Adrian pulls you so you’re sitting properly on the couch again, and you have to press your thighs together when each of them take a tit in their mouth and suck. One of them bites down gently and your hands falter as you whine out Adrian’s name. Both of them huff into your chest, your nipples growing slick with spit as they suck at you sloppily. One of them squeezes, and when your fist tightens around him he moans into your chest. If you’d had any ability to pick up on who was who before, you’re utterly confused now, your head clouded with a heavy lust as they both bite at the flesh above your nipple, suck into different spots around it as you feel heat spread through your chest. Both of them pull your thighs apart as the Adrian on your right presses kisses down your body, mouthing at the waistband of your shorts. He kisses at you over the shorts, sighing when he turns his head so he can take the flesh on the inside of your thigh into his mouth and suck at it. The other Adrian switches his attention to your other breast as your hands fly down into Right Adrian’s hair. 

He pulls your shorts and underwear down, and he’s pressing his nose into your mound, taking a deep whiff. 

“Oh god that’s embarrassing,” you whine as he exhales. 

He doesn’t move, just stays there for a while before pressing the warm muscle of his tongue over your slit, dragging it between your folds. 

“Oh my god,” he groans out into you before he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks on it loudly. You’re swearing out into the basement, biting so hard into your lower lip you think you might draw blood. Left Adrian presses his lips to yours again, his fingers focused on pinching and tweaking your nipples. He smiles as you sigh into his mouth, lets you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth. The Adrian between your thighs, laps at you hungrily, pushing desperately into your core while you whine into the other one’s mouth, your fingers curling desperately into his hair. He doesn’t ask you if you’re close, or pause when you start pressing his face deeper into you, just slides a finger into you with an obscene squelch as he starts sucking at your clit again. You’re tensing, a thin sheen of sweat beginning to form over your skin as Adrian continues to grope at your breasts, alternating between the two as your whines grow louder and longer. All it takes is him pushing another finger into you, curling it just right for you to start unraveling, pulsing around his fingers as the other Adrian starts sucking at your neck. 

You’re catching your breath when you realised they’ve switched positions, barely giving you the time to recover before Left Adrian is pressing his tongue against your clit and Right Adrian is pushing his tongue into your mouth, making you taste yourself on him while Left Adrian gets to work on tasting you. This is the quietest that sex with Adrian has ever been and it’s throwing you off not being able to hear him, know what his exact stream of thought is. Your stomach’s turning, nerves haywire from sensitivity as Left Adrian begins to lick at you much the same way as Right Adrian did, impatient as he goes straight in with two fingers, scissoring you open as he grunts into your clit. Right Adrian kisses  at your throat moving down until he’s pressing kisses into your chest. You can’t focus, not when you feel your body surging towards another orgasm your walls pulsing around Left Adrian’s fingers as he fucks them into you, all the way to the base of his fingers, trying to get as deep as he can. 

It slams into you and you feel it pulse through you hard, tightening around his fingers. He pulls off of you as you catch your breath, kissing you when he takes his seat next to you again. 

“Can you tell?” they ask you as you take deep breaths. You can feel parts of the blindfold damp with tears. 

You shake your head. You really couldn’t tell this time and it annoys you just a little. You just hear them hum, then they’re working together to get you on all fours, chest pressed into the cushions of the couch while one of them settles in behind you. He presses a kiss behind your thighs, then on each of your cheeks as you moan out into the couch. Then you feel him, heavy at your entrance as he twitches there, waiting. You push yourself back onto him and you hear both of them laugh. You desperately want to be able to see them both, but you’re stuck in the dark as the first Adrian finally pushes into you, nice and slow. The drag of him against your walls is almost electric as he bottoms out, thighs pressed against the back yours while his hands dig into the flesh of your ass. He doesn’t wait for you to confirm you’re ready, just starts fucking into you impatiently, moans growing ever louder as he keeps going, pace relentless. You hear the other Adrian muttering praises to him, and from the way his breath catches you can assume that he’s stroking himself. You feel yourself moan with want as you imagine what he looks like, hand wrapped around his base while his tip leaks all swollen. You wonder how close he is, whether he might finish before he gets the chance to fuck you. You immediately discard the thought. It probably didn’t matter which Adrian was which, you knew they’d both fuck you no matter what. 

You feel a hand on the small of your back, pressing you further into the couch as his hips slam into yours. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he breathes out, as he slides in and out of you with ease. “Oh my god, this feels so fucking good.”

Your thighs are slick where they meet his, and your brain has lost the ability to form words, your stomach tightening again with his efforts.

“Feels good, Ade,” you manage to get out, and you smile at the flustered little “yeah?” he lets out as his hands move to your hips. 

“Don’t hog her,” you hear the other Adrian whine, and you tighten around the current Adrian. Anything you say is muffled by the couch cushions as he continues pressing into you. 

“Oh fuck I can’t… can’t not,” he mumbles out as he reaches a hand around to grope at your boob. You can feel him twitching in you, so close when he pulls out, breathing heavy. 

“Finally,” the other Adrian mumbles as he pushes into you with no hesitation. You can hear the first Adrian mumbling above you as he tugs at himself. You reach out for him, and he doesn’t hesitate to wrap your hand around him as he fucks into your fist. 

“So close, I’m so close,” the Adrian fucking you starts muttering out. You know it’s your Adrian when he leans over you so he can hook his fingers into your mouth, bring you up a little bit while his other hand holds firmly onto your hip. 

“Fuck you love this, like having a full mouth don’t you,” he moans out as he presses his fingers against your tongue, profanities falling from his mouth. Other Adrian doesn’t let his hips falter, wrapping a hand around yours to keep you tight around him. You can feel your legs turning to jelly as your Adrian keeps fucking into you, pressing a kiss into your neck that has you tightening around him one last time. 

“Shit dude please tell me you’re close, I can’t–can’t keep going like this, it's so wet,” your Adrian whines out. 

Other Adrian just mutters “yeah,” under his breath before he unfurls your finger from around him and you hear him move further behind you, still tugging at himself as your Adrian keeps rutting into you, sloppy and erratic. Your Adrian gives you a few more sloppy thrusts before his hips are stilling as he twitches into you. He presses one last kiss into the back of your neck before he leans back up and pulls his fingers out of your mouth just in time for Other Adrian to finish on your back, thick and warm. 

There’s a beat of silence before they finally ask the question you know they want to ask. 

“Do you know’s who?”

“Adrian in me… that’s my Adrian,” you pant out. 

They’re silent for longer than you’re comfortable with and you almost consider changing your answer when they both start clapping. 

You feel Other Adrian gently pull the blindfold off before he sets off, says he’s looking for something to clean you up with. 

When you’re all cleaned up, and the two of them are back in their underwear, they both turn to you, the same question in their eyes. 

“If I hadn’t known when you put your fingers in my mouth, I would have known it when you finished. Adrian, you’re nowhere near generous to let another guy come in me,” you answer as you pull your shirt on. 

“Ooooh,” they both sigh, as they nod like that makes sense. You stand so you can pull your shorts on, and in a manoeuvre that’s highly surprising to you, your Adrian slides up behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle as he pulls you into him.  

“One question though. How did you figure it out so quickly the first time? Before we had to switch again,” Other Adrian asks you. 

“Oh. My Adrian knows he doesn’t need to stop when I start gagging,” you smile. 

Adrian wasn’t even sure why he begged you so much to go with him on a ‘totally fun and fulfilling road trip to kill a bunch of human traffickers.’ Maybe he wanted a company on the road, someone who wouldn't tell him to shut up when he brought up facts about octopuses, someone who wouldn’t judge him for listening to pop music, just like Chris would.

Or maybe he just felt lonely these days and needed that closeness.

All those late patrols in snowed-in Evergreen. Quiet, empty streets that have nothing to offer to an adrenaline junkie twirling knives between his fingers. Those nights when he passed the time by looking into people’s windows, seeing families baking gingerbread, couples in love sipping mulled wine and watching Christmas movies… Even raccoons by the dumpster were munching on trash together.

And he was all alone.

Not that he needed anyone anyway. He definitely didn’t need you, that’s for sure.

And you did not need him, right? You made it blatantly clear after what happened in Vegas. After that night (and that morning) you haven’t brought it up, and when Adrian decided to take the leap and talk with you about it? You shut him down real quick.

And now you were with him in the middle of nowhere, annoyed out of your mind because Adrian threw a severed finger into your lap after he returned from the carnage in the docks.

To be fair, his explanation was almost… sweet?

He wanted to give you the ring one of those lowlifes was wearing, muttering something about it being better than Ring Pops. But apparently, the thing was stuck tight, and his solution was to bring the entire finger and cheerfully suggest, “Just slide it off the other way.”

Not gonna mention he was particularly bitchy the entire ride back, especially after you refused to wear the blood ring, and decided to stop at the motel to rest your heads before driving the rest of the way to Evergreen.

“I told you! You didn’t need a getaway driver!” you exclaimed as you were stepping out of the car into the evening darkness.

“I do need a getaway driver, though!” Adrian protested right back, scrambling out of the passenger seat of his Sebring. He winced when you slammed the car door shut and tossed him the keys.

Adrian absolutely did not need a getaway driver; he was simply hoping to soften your heart on the road and make you finally admit you liked him.

“Then stop bitching about me being tired, okay? If you want to get to Evergreen tonight, you can drive yourself.” You argued back with no avail. Adrian only stomped his feet like a little child before storming off to get the keys to the motel room.

You swear he was doing it on purpose, irritating you, that is. As you walked down the corridor of the rundown motel, Adrian kept stepping on your heels. Each time he muttered a quiet “sorry,” but it was so half-hearted you knew he didn’t mean it.

Passing one particular room, you heard wailing, bed creaking, and low growls. Your pace quickened immediately, though it was Adrian who fell behind.

It wasn’t until the heel‑stepping stopped that you realized he was no longer breathing down your neck and sticking to you like a moth to flame.

He was crouched by the door of that room, trying to peek through the keyhole and catch a glimpse of whatever was going on in there.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you hissed, but the stage whisper didn’t pull him away. “Adrian!” you snapped again.

“What? I had to check if the guy was just fucking his partner or if he’d turned the place into a torture chamber. That’s a totally valid reason to look!” he shot back, huffing as he stood and hurried to catch up with you.

"Sicko." Another scoff, another eyeroll. You swear your eyes will eventually roll out of your eye sockets if Adrian does not stop annoying you.

Why did you even agree to go with him? You had no idea.

Despite how strained things were between you, there was still that nagging voice in your head urging you to stay close. Maybe it was intuition, a sense that he would need your help in the near future, or maybe it was something worse, like the fact that you weren’t ready to let go of him just yet.

What did he actually mean to you? A teammate. A friend at most. The fact that you hooked up meant nothing. And it wasn't even penetration!

“Bore.” Adrian scooted past you, room keys dangling from between his fingertips, and checked the numbers on the doors: Room 7A.

Much to your dismay, your room was right next to that wild couple Adrian was spying on a few seconds ago.

It was going to be a long night.

Once you stepped into the surprisingly tidy room, the relentless thumping of a bed against the wall next door barely registered, you dropped face-first onto the mattress, too exhausted to care.

The double bed in the shape of a heart dominated the cramped space, its size almost comical in the tiny room. The wood paneling, combined with the yellowish light from a faded red lamp, created a cozy atmosphere that almost made you forget who you were sharing a bed with.

“Is this a fucking brothel?” The sheets muffled the complaint, yet Adrian picked it up.

“Brothel, motel, Holiday Inn, who cares? You’re the one who wanted to rest, not me.” Adrian slid onto the bed next to you and lightly tapped your back. Such a light and fleeting touch was already sending Adrian into overdrive.

How come the fabric of your clothes was always so soft? How come you always smelled so good?

His hand lingered on your back, almost unconsciously. What began as a teasing tap shifted into a gentle caress, each motion carrying a quiet promise. Adrian was soothing you.

“I mean, the room is kinda nice if you think about it,” he murmured, fingers tracing along your spine like he was counting each vertebra. “Heart-shaped bed, red lamps, sex ambiance from next door… It’s like a cheap honeymoon, right?”

And there it was again. Adrian was reaching out, trying to close the distance you kept widening. He couldn’t help himself, always trying to fan the fragile spark that was created in Vegas.

But you knew what would happen if that fire caught. He was chaos walking, a stray rocket drifting toward ignition and the explosion would consume both of you.

Your head turned to look at him sitting next to you in the dim light. Disheveled hair, crooked glasses, civilian clothes, he looked so ordinary, so deceptively innocent. If you hadn’t known him, you might have believed it.

“We’re not on honeymoon, because we’re not married.” You whispered after an excruciating moment of silence.

“So you keep saying.” His shoulders sagged, his hand momentarily stopping on your back before resuming those slow, deliberate circles, as if he could soothe away your irritation.

“If every time you drag me somewhere is just to talk Vegas, then stop. What happened in Vegas stays in Vegas. End of story.” you caught his wrist, stopping those gentle and loving touches that were only making it harder for you to focus on hating him.

Adrian let out a sharp laugh, scoffing as he pulled his hand back to his lap. “That’s really emotionally mature, dude. Right now, I’m the normal one between us, and that’s… honestly embarrassing for you.”

“You’re everything but normal.” your jaw tensed; it was a miracle your teeth did not crack from the force.

“At least I’m trying. You keep running, pretending none of it mattered. But it did. It mattered to me.” Adrian’s heart was hammering in his chest. He finally admitted it out loud. Vegas mattered to him. You mattered to him.

“But you’re such a fucking cunt you will rather shut me off than admit you liked it!” and with that, Adrian ran off without letting you say another word, the room door slamming shut behind him with a loud bang.

How dare he call you out on something so real? He saw right through the wall you built after Vegas. What you thought was solid stone and steel was really just glass.

Transparent, fragile, breakable.

Adrian kept hitting that glass wall, each strike leaving a fracture, each blow echoing louder. And when he gives the last blow, the glass castle will fall apart, crashing down and letting out everything you’ve been holding inside for months.

Adrian didn’t return for a while. Lone silhouette by the ice box, the cold air of early winter was doing its job, filling his lungs and cooling him down. He didn’t want to scream, of course not, but what other choice did you give him?

The only thing that pulled Adrian out of his thoughts was the sudden crunch of ice and the stench of cigarette smoke.

“You don’t mind, do you?” a raspy voice slurred, words mangled around the cigarette dangling from his lips.

“No, no, go ahead.” Adrian waved him off without looking, eyes fixed on the flickering neon sign bleeding red into the fog. The guy hummed low, scooping ice into a bucket with jerky movements.

“Honeymoon,” he rasped, grinning through yellowed teeth. “You know how that is. Room 8A has never seen a better show. But hey, at least one of us is getting laid, huh?” his pig laugh boomed through the parking lot before he disappeared with rhythm to his step, leaving Adrian alone again.

Tiny snowflakes drifted from the sky, mixing with the fog that wrapped the motel in a milky white. When the last letter of the neon-red sign finally flickered out, he headed back into the motel room.

Without a word, he walked past you, sitting on the bed, flipping through the motel Bible, and headed straight for the cramped bathroom in the corner. Then came the sound of running water, louder than it should have been, and that’s when you realized Adrian hadn’t bothered to close the door.

“Care to close the door, Mr. No Shame?” you called out half-annoyed, though you doubted he could hear you over the running water.

“No,” came the reply, warped by the bathroom’s echo. “I’m warming up the bedroom with steam. Otherwise, we’ll freeze in here.”

The real reason was different. Adrian ‘I don’t like sex, because it’s sex’ Chase was exactly after that. Because it was the only kind of closeness you’d ever let him have. The only kind he’d ever known from you.

And at the moment? He was chasing the feeling of not being alone.

There was only one and only mirror in the room, situated at the perfect angle, which framed you like a portrait when Adrian glanced through the open bathroom door. You sat on the bed, unaware, lost in the pages of the motel Bible, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt to keep your hands busy.

Then your eyes lifted. And in the mirror, your gaze locked with his. The air shifted. He almost groaned.

Besides the sound of water running, the room was silent, and neither of you dared to break the sudden peace with useless words. So you just stared at each other in the reflection while something dangerous and unspoken hung in the air.

Back in Vegas, you had felt Adrian, but now you finally had a chance to see him.

Sharp edges and soft dips veiled in hot steam, broken only by the slow glide of his soapy hands across his own skin.

How come he looked so good in a rusty motel shower? How come he made you want him as much as you wanted to punch him in the face?

Your gaze betrayed you, dragging shamelessly over him. From that maddeningly calm face to the rise and fall of his chest, slick with water, down to the hard lines of his stomach and…

You inhaled sharply, heat flooding your cheeks as your eyes snapped back to his. Adrian was already smirking.

He knew.

He knew exactly how much it was affecting you. Almost as much as it was affecting him.

The silence stretched. Heavy. Until his hand began sliding lower across his stomach, water tracing every inch like it wanted you to watch.

A non-existent agreement was passed between you: Creep on me. Creep on me. I’m a little bit lonely, show me that you want me. Don't take your eyes off me. Creep on me.

And God, you didn’t take your eyes off him even when he wrapped his hand around his half-hard cock and started stroking himself in a thrilling, perverse show.

Rough pads of his fingers contrasted against the velvety skin of his dick, yet he wished it were your soft hand wrapped around him instead. Just a few more seconds, he thought, just a few more seconds and you will break.

“Do you feel warm yet?” Adrian’s voice snapped you out of the haze you were in.

Heat was pooled in your cheeks, painting them red.

“It’s hot in here,” he offered, grip tightening at the tip and making him hum in pleasure. “And there’s room for one more.”

The sound worked like a siren’s call, calling you closer, closer. Your legs moved before your mind caught up, carrying you toward the steam-flooded bathroom. The humid air like a punch to the face.

“What are you doing?” The question slipped out with a sigh. It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t anger. Just… something else.

Adrian tilted his head, droplets sliding down his jaw, his smile genuine. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Getting on my nerves, probably.”

“Is it working?” he leaned towards you, leaving the hot, streaming water behind him. That sweet smile was turning into the wolfish grin you had seen before. He wore that smile whenever he was running high on adrenaline after a successful kill.

You weren’t sure what it was that he looked so dangerous without his glasses.  Without them, his eyes were predatory, and they were locked on you like you were the only thing worth hunting.

You took a step back, the tiles cold beneath your feet. Adrian immediately extended his hand, palm open, water cascading down his arm. “Come here.”

He had gone so far as to get you on this trip, and despite the argument you had earlier, you were standing right in front of him, looking into his eyes while he stood gloriously naked in front of you.

The precipice.

He needed to make you fall in the right direction.

What he saw as a sign of openness, an invitation to the vulnerable dance he’d been performing alone, you saw as a threat. If you gave in, there would be no way back

Your left leg slid back, barely a step, but Adrian noticed right away. “Bzzz, wrong.”

“You’re the bad decision, Adrian.” the words came out sharp, but unsteady.

“So what? You make bad decisions all the time.”

“No? I don’t!”

“Yes, you do! I can see the way you fight, you know? Mistake after mistake, and you don’t even see it.” His voice bounced off the misty tiles, “You never take chances, have you noticed that? You only take a shot when you’re 100 % sure it will land.”

Say what you want about Adrian Chase, but he was a genius when it came to fighting, despite his obvious bluntness in other aspects of his life.

Then his tone dropped, eyes softened. “Just… Let me be your next mistake.”

And that got you. His pleading words, laced with frustration, rang in your head. Echoing.

Mistake.

Mistake… Make a mistake… Take the chance…

Adrian saw it too, the crack in your walls, and he didn’t wait. Instead of standing there like a fool, hoping you’d reach for him, he took your hand himself and pulled you slowly into the cramped, steaming shower.

Hot water made your skin break out in goosebumps as it drenched your clothes. Fabric clung to you in seconds, heavy and soaked, while wet strands of hair blurred your vision.

Adrian leaned in, wanting to kiss you, but stopped when you flinched away. Just a reflex, but enough to tell him everything. He didn’t push. Instead, his mouth found your jaw, tracing a line of hot, wet kisses up to your ear.

“Do you want me?” Adrian whispered, kissing the shell of your ear.

Did you want him? Adrian Chase? Vigilante? The man who plagued your dreams ever since you joined the 11th Street Kids? The man whose figure creeps in your walls and hums above your bed while you’re lying all alone with your hand down your underwear?

The answer did not come.

That dumb face of his came back into your hazy vision, except this time it wasn’t the usual foolish expression he always wore and that you were used to. His face was serious, focused.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he tried again, softer.

Only then, you nodded.

And only then, Adrian dropped to his knees like the devotee he was.

“Thank fuck,” he muttered to himself while tugging on your pants. He barely had the patience to unbutton them. “I was scared for a minute you would kick me in the dick for even asking.”

“I-I wouldn’t do that.” You definitely would, though. After all, you were close to doing that in Vegas a few months back.

You hated to admit it, but Adrian looked so damn good on his knees in front of you. That stubborn voice in your head even whispered you could get used to that sight, and it took all your willpower to shut that idea down.

His hands were insistent. Tugging, tearing, until your pants with panties dropped with a heavy thud on the bottom of the shower.

“Shame. I like it when it hurts.” Adrian added before his head buried between your legs.

Flat tongue dragged over your pussy, the first taste already made him addicted. “You can punch me in the face if it will make you feel better. It’ll definitely make me feel good.”

“You’re crazy, Adrian.”

“Only for you.”

All of this felt like penance for Adrian. The obsession he developed after Vegas drove you away from him, and now he had the chance to make it better. Kiss you better. Eat your throbbing pussy better and make it crave his tongue above anything else.

So he teased between those soft folds with a pointed tongue, aiming to make you shake and grip his hair in pleasure.

He was so sure he could do that to you; shake in pleasure.

His hand grabbed your thigh and guided it to your shoulder to give himself a better angle, which Adrian immediately took advantage of.

“Still no teeth to bite my tongue off?” Adrian clicked his tongue before sliding it into your fluttering hole. Just a little taste. “Or did you file them away for me?”

“You’re an asshole- fuck.” Your words got cut off by a spark of pleasure blossoming inside you. The warm tongue swirled around your entrance before dipping in again, this time as deep as possible.

“Look at me, c’mon. Look at that asshole who makes you moan. Look at me.” Adrian was already staring at you like you were his moon, not caring that he looked more wrecked than you, nor did he care about the steaming water dripping straight on his face.

God, how much you hated the way he looked at you. How pullable his mopped hair looked, or how his pretty green eyes zeroed in on yours.

“Don’t take your eyes off me,” Adrian instructed before leaning in again, sucking on your clit with sounds so obscene your knees nearly gave up from those sounds alone.

You did not take your eyes off him. You could not.

His head was so snuggly buried between your legs that it wasn’t clear whether he was able to breathe properly. It didn’t matter anyway, right? A man dying by suffocation by pussy was a happy man.

Finally, you decided to grab onto his head, fingers slipping so perfectly into his hair that those pretty, blissed-out eyes rolled back and made him moan against you.

“Please, look at me. Look how good I’m making you feel,” Adrian muttered in between licks, “My pretty not-wife with the sweetest pussy.”

A mix of arousal, saliva, and water dripped down his chin, though it did not make him budge an inch. The only thing that moved was his ever-working tongue, his fingers pressing deeper and harsher into the soft flesh of your thigh, and the red, leaking cock twitching against his belly.

Ecstasy began spreading through your body, toes and fingers tingling, soft moans spilling free past your lips and just as you were starting to feel close… Adrian’s eyes snapped wide open again and stopped slurping between your legs.

“Adrian, I was close!” you whined out loud, but no bitter answer came. He stayed silent, slowly pulling away from you while he stared into the distance with the tiniest hint of a frown.

“Those fuckers are at it again.” Adrian simply said while massaging your thigh in apology.

“What?”

“The honeymooners in the room next to us.”

You couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing in your head and the stream of water still cascading over your heated bodies. However, you did not doubt Adrian's hearing.

“And what about it?” your head tilted to the side, and your hands pushed on the back of his head, oh so desperately trying to coax him back into eating you out.

“You wanted me to fuck you, yeah? Pound you real good?” Adrian asked right after mumbling something under his breath. But before you could answer, he was turning off the shower, tugging your wet shirt over your head and picking you up like you weighed nothing while simultaneously ignoring all your squeals.

“You need to be loud, okay?” His whisper grazed your ear, urgent, right after he set you on the bed, guiding you up on your hands and knees. The words barely cut through the sounds of bizarre sex from the next room, separated only by a paper-thin motel wall.

You did not dare to ask what he meant by that.

Every instinct screamed to pull back, to keep the walls up, but another, stubborn voice whispered that maybe you didn’t want to. Maybe you wanted to know what would happen if you didn’t fight this.

Give in. Let the fire blaze. Let the knight conquer the glass castle.

You were so in your head that you didn’t even notice Adrian leaving the bed and rummaging around in desperate search for protection.

Just when you heard the foil being torn and discarded, you asked the inevitable question, “Did you plan this, you pervert?” You looked over your shoulder just to see Adrian grinning right up at you while rolling the condom over his cock.

“Yes, duh.” In less than a second, you felt his warm body pressing against you from behind. “Call me a pervert one more time, it’s turning me on.”

“Pervert,” you whispered with a smile, which soon transformed into a perfect ‘O’.

Adrian was big, you knew that by now, but holy hell. It was the burning stretch that got you going, rocking back against him and urging his cock further until he was snuggled deep inside of you.

“There you go,” his hand found home on your stomach, pressing upwards and hoping he could feel himself bulging through. The need to mark himself in you was unmistakable.

You’d been pushing him away for so long. Every advance deflected, every attempt shot down before it could land. Every dumb smile from a fool in love met with your own practiced beam, the kind that said ‘don’t even think about loving me‘.

And yet… Here you were.

No longer pretending there was nothing between you. No longer hiding behind sharp words and distance.

Fake husband and wife. Fake honeymoon. And a pitiful fight with the real couple hidden behind the wall you stared so hard at.

Sweltering fingertips ran from your neck, over your spine, all the way to your tailbone, where they firmly pressed along with praise, ‘Look how good you’re taking me’ and ‘Pretty pussy swallowing me whole’.

The hollow feeling in your chest began filling with fuzz you didn’t expect to appear while Adrian thrusted into you from behind. His hand pressed on your lower back, silently begging you to arch your back more, let him in deeper until he reached your heart and fucked it raw.

Although the pervert behind you brought the vocal part of you, you still weren’t louder than the counterpart wife on the other side of the wall. Their bed slammed against the plaster in a steady rhythm, loud and shameless, while yours? Still planted firmly on the wooden floor.

Your head snapped over your shoulder, and the look you threw at Adrian could have burned him to ash. Fire in your eyes, challenge in his; a silent deal.

He froze for half a second, but then his grin spread slow and sharp, and he hauled you up by your hips. You were no longer arching on hands and knees. Now? You were only on your knees, body held upright by him.

Adrian‘s grip on your torso tightened, “You want to win?” he asked with a raspy voice,fingers lovingly tangling in strands of your hair before pressing the side of your head to the wall. “Then show them how much you love me.”

With that, he jerked into you. Rough, stinging, and rather punishing. One part of his brain burned with devotion. He wanted to make love to you, worship you like the goddess you were. The other part though? It wanted retribution. It wanted you to feel the sting of every moment you pushed him away, every smile that told him ‘don’t even try’.

And those mixed emotions caused havoc; it wasn’t his alone, you felt it too.

It was snowing outside. The kind of night where silence thickens, where lonely hearts can hear their own pulse in the rhythm of falling snow.

You and Adrian, however? You were no longer lost souls outside.

One of you was frost: cold, sharp, biting. The other was a hurricane: wild, relentless, impossible to contain and tearing down every wall you have built.

Together, you were causing a snowstorm within the walls of a crappy motel. It didn’t take long for the squeaky bed to start slamming against the wall, mimicking the bed on the other side. And it did not take long for one of those meretricious framed pictures to fall off.

The frame broke, glass scattered over the ground.

And so did you.

“Oh god!” you gasped out loud after he delivered another deep and harsh thrust, causing your face to slide against the unevenly painted wall and scratch your cheek.

“Louder.” He simply instructed with a groan, his hips snapping again. “Scream louder for me, come on.”

“Holy fuck- Adrian!” Every time you moaned his name, you felt him twitch inside of you, causing you to clench harder around him. The nastiest game of tug you have experienced.

He pressed your head harder against the wall, making you hiss, though you weren’t in your right mind to tell him to stop. “Yes, yes, there you go…”

Bruises were already blossoming on your hips and thighs where his fingers were digging in. Your body was being inked by the vicious force Adrian used on purpose. You reached behind you, fingers curling around his forearm like twisting vines, ready to maim.

But Adrian was faster. His hand caught yours mid-motion, firm but not harsh. “Trying to scratch me?” he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a slow kiss against your knuckles. “That’s hot as hell, but keep it for next time. We have work to do.”

The tip of his cock was hitting that little spongy spot with precision, as if he studied the map of your body long before all this even happened. It caused you to whine loudly until the only sounds you heard were your cries, the wet squelching of your pussy, and the dull thud of the bed and the wall.

Adrian enveloped your frame, hugging you tight, while his hand sneaked around your hip and nestled between your legs. “Does your cute clit need some attention? Hm?”

“You’re the one who need-fuck-needs attention.” It was a mere attempt at hurting his ego while you were at it, but all that bitterness melted the second Adrian started rolling your clit between his fingers like he was born to do so.

You were tightening, tightening, tightening, until that knot in your abdomen snapped with a bang and echoed Adrian’s laughter.

You passed out. You must have, right? Because when you opened your eyes, Adrian was nuzzling against your back, soft cock and filled condom resting inside of your sensitive pussy, and he was running his hands all around in an almost apologetic manner.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

The couple from next door stopped causing ruckus, hopefully for good.

“You did so good, holy shit,” Adrian pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, “Best sex ever, no notes.”

“Did I pass out?”

“Nuh uh, you were just coming so hard you accidentally transported yourself into the future. Pretty cool party trick by the way.”

Adrian only burst out laughing when you turned your head and frowned at him. “For real though, you didn’t pass out, don’t worry.”

Who could say what softened you? Maybe it was the quiet you’d been craving, or the warmth radiating from the man holding you. Maybe it was the lingering steam in the air, or the snow falling just beyond the window.

Whatever it was, something inside you gave way. The storm inside you stilled. Glass walls shattered, ice melted…

You leaned in, nose brushing over Adrian’s in a loving display, before connecting your lips with his. A kiss so light it barely existed, no stronger than the flutter of butterfly wings.

That kiss was different than the one in Vegas; this one wasn’t driven by greed and distress. It was real.

When you pulled back, breath shaky, Adrian didn’t move at first. His eyes stayed closed for a heartbeat longer, like he was memorizing the feeling. Adrian Chase, though, had a memory of a goldfish.

So he kissed you again.

Not rushed. Not reckless.

Lasting. Loving.

And for once, you didn’t fight it. You kissed him back slowly.

When he finally broke apart, his lips hovered near yours, “Careful, keep kissing me like that, and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

“That will never happen, Chase.”

you rolled your eyes, not very shocked he wasn't aware of what the term meant. before you could explain, he continued talking.

"wait, do i owe you money? haven't i been fucking you for free this entire time? shit- has this been transactional? i'm not- i'm not a fucking john, am i?"

"adrian-"

"shit! i knew it was too good to be true! chris said it this whole time — that you were waaaayyy out of my league and that it made no sense you fucked me for free. he was right? fuck, man."

"adrian!"

"what?" he blinked up at you as you made your way to him. his legs parted easily for you, allowing you to stand between them as you held his chin between your thumb and your index finger, tilting his head towards you.

"that's not what free use means," you began, to which he nodded dumbly, "it just means ... that you can do whatever you want to me whenever you want."

you said it very point blank, but you noticed the instant shift behind his eyes. while he'd originally been confused, looking to you with an empty look of curiosity, he suddenly began to blink slow and hard, processing your words. his hands left his lap and went to your hips, probably not realizing how his fingers dug into you and how he tried to pull you slightly closer.

"oh ... you mean- so, like i can ... i can fuck you whenever i want?"

you nodded with a smile, patting at his curls softly.

"fuck. really? like, really really?" he smiled widely at you.

a giggle left your lips, nodding again in confirmation, "yeah, adrian. anything goes."

he paused for a second, eyes shutting close and head throwing back as if in ecstasy, "fuuuuuck. that's so fucking hot," he mumbled almost to himself before turning back to you with wide eyes, "i'd totally fuck you stupid right now, but i promised peacemaker i'd go shoot some shit with him later today.

nodding with understanding, your fingers trailed to his chin to grip lightly at his cheeks, forcing him to pucker his lips and bringing him in for a chaste kiss.

"it's okay, baby. you have all the time in the world to do whatever you want," you promised.

you shared your goodbyes after that, with you leaving for an early shift and him to meet chris to patrol, or shoot shit, or whatever it was they did when they hung out.

at that moment, you didn't realize the effect your words would eventually have. it seemed like a fun idea when you'd woken up to find him pressed up against him, hard and needy after a long day but opting for sleep rather than to wake you up for some help.

it hadn't been the only time you'd found yourself thinking about letting him use you whenever he wanted, but it'd been the instance that pushed you over the edge. adrian had a high libido, as did you, so you couldn't help but fantasize about what would happen if you removed any sense of decorum from the relationship and gave him the greenlight to satisfy himself however he saw fit.

you'd soon find out.

the first instance occurred that same day.

you arrived home after a half shift, exhausted all the same, and ready for some leftovers and a warm shower.

you'd expected your apartment to be empty. adrian usually stayed out a majority of the day, either occupying himself with some secret mission with the 11th street kids or working a shift at fennel fields. it was common for the two of you to only see each other in the morning or on odd days of the week.

this time around, you walked in to a different air. it didn't take long for you to realize that you weren't alone.

one glance to your left, and you would've spotted adrian's tactical boots on your shoe rack, or maybe taken notice of his keys on the coffee table.

but the only warning you managed to receive about his presence had been his presence itself, which quickly overpowered you without warning.

within seconds of closing the door behind you, you were flipped around and pushed up against it, a familiar pair of lips closing in on your own.

your body was thoroughly felt up and your lips well-kissed before you even got a word in. out of instinct, your body followed his, hips molding into his own and tongue chasing his.

"adrian—?"

"hmmph- been thinking about you all day, fuck," he mumbled, lips trailing down your neck, "tried to think about all types of things i wanted to do, but then i got hard and it kinda deterred the rest of my day. peacemaker told me to fuck off if i was gonna be horny all over the place-"

"adrian-"

"so i came home, and i've been waiting for you for hours. i got off like two times, but i couldn't stop thinking about, like, bending you over the kitchen table or fucking in the vigilante mobile."

throughout his rant, his hands never seized to touch you. your as and hips were squeezed greedily, your shirt was practically off from all his pulling, and a trail of slobber occupied your neck and collarbones after all his ministrations.

meanwhile, your panties moistened further. his shameless words made your thighs squeeze together with need, your body move along his as you sought more of his touches. he either didn't catch onto how horny you were, or was just far too gone to really process it, as he kept rambling about every place he wished to fuck you in. the words went in one ear out the other after a while. your mind was just as foggy as his, with any exhaustion forgotten.

"-or, like, i was thinking about waking you up with head. i've always wanted to do that — there's so many possibilities, babe!"

"adrian, just fuck me!"

he sighed loudly, face nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in deep and shameless.

"yeah- yeah, you're right. i'm gonna- god, i'm gonna wreck your shit, babe. just you wait!"

with a shocking lack of effort, he picked you up bridal style, laughing maniacally as he sped his way through your shared apartment and took you to your room, unceremonious as he threw you on the bed.

clothes were individually ripped off, with your eyes never leaving the other's. he drank you up with a hungry grin on his lips, practically whining as you threw off your top and shimmied off your pants and panties all at once. his suit was thrown off, leaving him bare within moments.

"so this free use thing ... does that mean i can just go to town right now?"

you laughed but nodded, head tilting in a daring gesture.

he groaned in satisfaction yet again, taking the few long steps necessary to find you sat on the bed and crawl over you.

with another sloppy kiss, he began to line himself up into your entrance, groaning into your lips as he finally entered you. despite a slight bit of pain, you were wet enough to take him, instantly tightening at the intrusion. this drew a shaky sigh from his lips before he began fucking into you.

there was no finesse to his movements, no amount of grace or synchronization as he hammered into your hole. the sloppy sounds of your fluids mixing filled the room, only to be overpowered by your moans and his low grunts.

"fuck- i haven't had this pussy in forever ... such a good pussy, babe, really! can't believe i get it all to myself, and- and for free-"

the wording was off, but the way he expressed his base feelings for your cunt still made you cry out. he was going to come soon, and he was going to bury his essence deep inside you, and you wanted nothing more than to lay there and take it.

"i swear i'll make you come, babe- i just- i need to come so fucking bad ... such a perfect pussy, god-"

there was not an ounce of embarrassment in his words as he humped into you. he was like a pathetic virgin unable to control his body, whining your name and digging his nails into your skin just so he could keep you in the perfect position — hitting the perfect angle that had his eyes rolling back at just how tight and warm you felt.

he came inside you with a broken groan, body practically deflating above yours with no regard for your orgasm. but you knew this wouldn't last.

it took him a total of twenty seconds to catch his breath before he began kissing at your skin again, mumbling intelligible words as he pulled out and kissed his way down the length of your body.

"i'm gonna eat you out til you pass out now," he said as if obvious, "you're gonna regret this whole free use thing, babe. i'm gonna fuck you sooo stupid," he giggled to himself between wet kisses, humming to himself upon the first lick of your cunt.

the rest of the night was spent tirelessly. adrian was true to his word, remaining buried between your legs throughout the night. you lost count of how many times he made you come, and of how many times he climbed back up your body just to have you taste yourself on his tongue. regret was the very last thing on your mind, though you did wonder how you'd be able to regain any of your strength back to go to work in the morning.

you fell asleep after endless hours of this, with the last thing you remembered being a final, chaste kiss laid on your lips.

the next time wasn't until a few days later.

there was no mention of your newfound agreement again after that night. the two of you continued your regular routines, usually too busy to really indulge in one another as much as you wished.

but then your schedules finally aligned. you didn't think much of it when it happened, but the memory sparked back up when you slipped into the shower early into the morning while adrian remained fast asleep on your shared bed. the sound of a sliding door behind you told you all you needed to know, and the sudden presence of hands on your hips only confirmed it all.

within moments, you were no longer under the stream of the shower, but now pressed up against the tile of the shower wall, and with your leg perched up on adrian's waist.

he kissed you with greed, as he always did. his dick was already hard and leaking for you, pressed against his stomach and sandwiched between your bodies.

no words were exchanged as he lined himself up once more, groaning silently into your lips at the warmth.

your nails dug into his shoulders, a tiny whine of his name leaving your lips. he kissed at your cheek, finding your shoulder and softly biting it as his hips began to move.

"this is okay, right?" he panted, "wasn't sure if i could just, like, fuck you like this- but, fuck, i've been wanting to-"

"yes," you sighed in bliss, "use me whenever you want, adrian- just- fuck, keep fucking me."

he groaned at that, sound landing straight in your ear, "you're so fucking nice and pretty and soft and sexy when i fuck you, shit."

your hips moved along with his own, slapping skin echoing in the small room as you tongued at each other. it was filthy and desperate, but it was all very adrian. he fucked exactly as he lived, and it always had your body melting for him.

his hand dug between your bodies, already familiar with the song and dance necessary to get you there with him. his hips never halted, too needy for the stimulation and far too gone to think of anything other than your shared release.

the familiar feeling of his release filled you up, dragging you down with him in bliss. he licked into your mouth as you moaned his name, groaning at how tight you'd become mid orgasm.

"fuck," he panted, "that was like top ten. i'm sure after like a week of this free use thing we'll have a brand new ranking, though."

you hummed, unsure of his logic, but used to it regardless. he was still inside you, so you weren't really at your full thinking capacity.

"this was the greatest idea you've had yet, babe. my dick's totally gonna fall off from overuse within a week."

probably not, but you weren't one to complain of getting dicked down by your boyfriend. if he wanted to fuck you until his dick stopped working, you were willing to open your legs for him any time he asked for such. and you verbalized this to him as you attempted to catch your breath.

"fuck yeah," was his response, as he went back to kissing at your skin yet again.