#adrian x reader

The night ride was lit only by the sickly orange glow of the dash, a random Mötley Crüe track blasting too loud through the cheap car speakers.

Adrian was humming along, head bobbing slightly out of rhythm as his gloved hands rested casually on the steering wheel.

The car glided smoothly down a darkened road, the faint buzz of crickets filtering in from outside.

Chris sat slouched in the passenger seat, half-listening to the music, brows furrowed in suspicion as Adrian made a sudden right turn.

The streetlights shifted, illuminating a neatly trimmed suburban neighborhood with two-story houses, mailboxes standing in straight lines, and American flags draped proudly on porches.

“Uh... hey,” Chris’s voice cut sharply through the music, obnoxiously loud.

He jabbed a finger toward the windshield.

“Why the fuck are we turning into a goddamn cul-de-sac? We’re supposed to be going after the fucking target, not taking a scenic fucking tour.”

Adrian just hummed louder, cheerful and unbothered.

“Oh, yeah, no, I just gotta grab something real quick," he slowed as they approached a row of identical houses, his voice sing-song and casual. “It's at my girlfriend’s place, then we can totally go do the whole mission-kill-thing.”

Chris blinked once.

Then twice.

His head turned slowly, eyes narrowing, the weight of what Adrian just said finally crashing down.

“…Wait, hold the fuck on,” he sat up straighter in his seat, almost whipping around to face him fully. “Girlfriend? What the fuck did you just say?”

Adrian frowned in confusion, still watching the road, “Uh… that I need to grab something from my girlfriend’s house?”

Chris froze, throwing both hands out like he was halting traffic.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, back the fuck up. You—” he jabbed a finger at Adrian’s chest, voice dripping with disbelief. “—have a girlfriend?”

“Uh, yeah?” Adrian answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve had a girlfriend for, like, ten years. We live together sometimes. Well, not live-live, but I basically live there anyway. You know, toothbrush in the bathroom, drawer of my own, couple pairs of socks I keep around—”

Chris barked out a laugh, sharp and disbelieving, cutting him off.

"Bullshit. You? A girlfriend? No fucking way,” he scoffed, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the audacity. “You’d have mentioned it, like, a million fucking times.”

“I do mention it,” Adrian protested, eyes widening as his voice pitched up, almost defensive. “I bring her up literally every chance I get. Like, every single time. And the only way you wouldn’t know that is if—”

He gasped dramatically.

“—you don’t listen to me when I talk!”

“Yeah, no, I don’t. Like, ever,” he shrugged, deadpan. “I tune you out constantly, dude. It’s like survival instinct at this point.”

Adrian’s shoulders slumped, the hurt in his voice almost childlike, “Who doesn’t listen to their best friend?"

"You make it impossible, man. Like ninety percent of what you say is random fucking babble about dumb shit I don’t care about,” Chris waved a dismissive hand as the car rolled into a driveway. “Girlfriend, my ass—”

The car came to a halt, engine ticking softly as Adrian shifted it into park.

The house was quiet, porch light glowing warmly against the siding.

Adrian unbuckled with his usual pep, popping the door open.

Chris followed him out, still shaking his head, “Do I even know who this imaginary chick is?”

Adrian puffed his chest proudly, slamming the driver-side door shut.

“Yeah! It’s (y/n). From high school,” he grinned, gesturing vaguely with his hands as they started toward the porch. “Y’know, total babe. Cute glasses. Even cuter braces. You remember.”

Chris stopped mid-step, his eyes going comically wide.

A beat later, laughter burst from his chest, loud and obnoxious, echoing across the quiet street.

He bent slightly at the waist, hands on his knees.

“No fucking way!” he howled, pointing at Adrian. “You’re dating Mush-Mouth (y/n)? With the trash compactor braces and the crazy fucking stutter? Oh my god, that’s fucking priceless.”

The laughter died in his throat.

In an instant, Adrian had lunged forward, shoving Chris hard against the siding of the house.

The clap of impact rattled the paneling.

Chris’s eyes bulged as Adrian’s forearm pressed firm across his chest, the cold muzzle of a pistol shoved up under his chin, aimed at his throat.

Adrian’s voice was no longer sing-song or sweet.

It dropped, low and dark, a rumble of lethal intent.

His brows furrowed, eyes blazing, shadowed in fury.

“Chris,” he said flatly, voice like stone. “You’re my BFF. My ride-or-die. But if you ever call her that again…” his finger twitched on the trigger. “…I’ll make you a stain on this wall, and I won’t even feel bad about it.”

The air went heavy.

Chris froze, hands instinctively raising in surrender, throat bobbing against the barrel.

His jaw tightened, a rare flicker of unease flashing across his face.

He had never seen Adrian like this—so serious, so angry.

The goofy sidekick veneer had slipped completely, and what stared back at him was something terrifyingly absolute.

“…Okay,” Chris muttered, nodding quickly. “Okay, fuck, fine. I won’t. Jesus.”

For a moment longer, Adrian held him there, gun steady, eyes sharp and unflinching.

Then, just as suddenly, the storm broke.

He stepped back, holstering the weapon with a cheery little flourish.

His body language snapped back into casual pep, his voice bright and chipper as though nothing had happened.

“Cool! Glad we cleared that up. C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Adrian skipped the last couple of steps up to the porch, whistling merrily to the tune of the Mötley Crüe song still ringing faintly from the car.

He pressed the doorbell with a happy bounce, shoulders relaxed, a picture of innocence.

Chris stood at the bottom of the steps, rubbing his throat where the muzzle had been, staring up at his friend with wide eyes.

For once in his life... Peacemaker was speechless.

Adrian waited a half-second, then tilted his head, tapping his chin.

“Oh, duh,” he muttered, fishing around in one of the many pouches strapped to his utility belt.

After a moment of rifling, he pulled out a shiny key, holding it up triumphantly.

“Almost forgot I had this!”

Chris’s eyes narrowed.

Adrian ignored him, slipping the key into the lock with careful precision.

The tumblers clicked, and he swung the door open with a little flourish.

He turned back, beckoning with a cheerful wave.

“C’mon, dude. Don’t just stand there looking all constipated. Let’s go!”

Chris lingered on the porch, wary expression plastered across his face as Adrian strolled in like he owned the place, “She didn’t even answer the door, man. Probably means she’s not here.”

“Uh, wrong,” Adrian countered without missing a beat, strolling casually into the living room. “I’ve memorized literally every single detail about her. Like, everything. Her schedule, her daily routine, her habits. Honestly, I usually know where she’s at and what she’s doing before she even does.”

Chris stopped dead in the doorway, blinking slowly.

“…Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, mentally adding a bullet point to the long list of Reasons Adrian Chase Is a Full-Blown Sociopath.

Note to self: maybe check in on this (y/n) chick every once in a while, just to make sure she wasn’t dead in a freezer somewhere.

Before he could spiral too far, a warm voice floated down the stairs.

“Adrian? That you, baby?”

Both men’s heads snapped toward the sound at once.

Light footsteps padded gently against the wood as you descended, towel-damp curls bouncing softly around your shoulders.

Chris braced himself instinctively, shoulders tight, ready for some hideous Ugly-Betty-adjacent apparition—coke-bottle glasses, headgear, zit cream, the whole fucking shebang.

But then you came into view.

And his jaw nearly unhinged.

You were a goddamn vision.

Skin dewy and luminous, rich brown glowing under the light.

Dark curls framed your face perfectly, your smile radiant, disarmingly warm.

No glasses, no braces, no acne—just beautiful.

Wrapped in a short black silk robe that clung to every perfect curve, the hem teasing at plush thighs, neckline plunging just enough to make Chris’s brain short-circuit.

Hips made to grab.

Breasts that looked criminally good.

You weren’t just hot.

You were sex incarnate.

A goddamn smoke show.

Chris’s brain reeled, appalled at the idea that Adrian fucking Chase got to come home to this every night.

That he got to fuck this.

Regularly.

Meanwhile, you were smiling sweetly as you crossed the room.

“Sorry, honey, I was in the shower,” you said, sliding your arms around Adrian’s neck and pulling him into a tight hug, rising to your tippy-toes.

Adrian melted instantly, arms locking tight around your waist as he lifted you off your feet like you weighed nothing.

“Missed you,” he breathed happily, muffled before crashing his mouth against yours in a deep, heated kiss.

Chris stood rooted to the spot, eyes bulging as the hem of your robe slipped higher from the movement, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of the curve of your lower ass cheek.

His heart practically seized.

Heat surged traitorously below his belt.

The words tumbled out before he could stop them.

“…Mush-Mouth (y/n)?”

You broke from the kiss slightly, blinking in surprise.

Adrian, however, froze like he’d just heard a war crime.

His body stiffened, his head whipping toward Chris.

In a blur, his gun was out again, aimed squarely at Chris’s face.

“What the fuck, dude?!” Adrian barked, his voice spiking with pure fury. “You promised!”

But before he could pull the trigger, your hand slid calmly to his forearm.

“Hun,” your tone was soft but firm, a balm against his fury. “Not necessary.”

Adrian froze mid-motion, chest heaving.

He glanced at you, then at Chris, then back at you again.

Slowly, reluctantly, his shoulders dropped.

With a muttered curse under his breath, he holstered the weapon once more.

His glare shot daggers at Chris, eyes promising that next time, no one would stop him.

Turning back to Chris, you sighed, folding your arms loosely across your chest.

Your voice was cool, even, but not without an edge.

“Yeah. That was me,” your lips curved faintly, like you were daring him to comment further. “I grew out of the stutter, as you can see.”

Chris could only stare, dumbstruck, trying and failing to reconcile the goddess in front of him with the memory of braces and awkward frumpiness from high school.

His mind was a full-blown hurricane of disbelief as he gawked, jaw working uselessly like he was trying to form words but couldn’t quite get his brain to compute.

“How the fuck—” he muttered, half to himself, half to the room.

His eyes cut back to Adrian, then to you again.

“—did you pull this off? You’re telling me you got this and she—”

He gestured wildly at your body, robe clinging, skin perfect.

“—turned into that?”

Adrian didn’t notice Chris’s existential crisis at all.

He was too busy nuzzling into your neck, basking in your affection like a golden retriever.

Chris squinted, still trying to connect the dots, “What about the crazy braces? And the coke-bottle glasses? Like, where the hell did those go?”

You rolled your eyes, cocking a hip with easy confidence, “The fun thing about braces, Chris, is that they come off. And contacts exist.”

Before he could retort, Adrian piped up, muffled into your shoulder, “Honestly, sometimes I miss them. They were cute.”

You turned to him, smiling fondly, “No, baby, they weren’t.”

Still, your voice carried warmth.

Chris blinked, still grasping, “So, wait, like… do you have contacts in right now? Or do you need your prescription refilled or some shit?”

Your brow arched sharply, “What exactly are you trying to imply?”

His gaze flicked over your body, then darted to Adrian, then back to you, then Adrian again—before finally landing squarely on you.

He threw his hands out in exasperation.

“I’m saying you’re gorgeous! Like actually gorgeous. Not in the ‘snowflake, you’re-gorgeous-on-the-inside’ bullshit way. Like, actually-fucking-gorgeous.”

Adrian immediately lit up, grinning like a fool as he slung an arm proudly around your waist and tugged you into his side, “Right!? She’s the hottest woman in the universe!”

You deadpanned, unimpressed, “I don’t take compliments from racists.”

Chris recoiled, “What the—fuck off, I’m not racist!”

Adrian chimed in helpfully, shrugging, “You do refuse to kill your racist dad, though.”

“That’s because he’s my dad, not because I’m, like, some kind of fellow racist,” Chris shot back, offended.

You tilted your head, lips curling with disbelief, “So you’re telling me your dad is, what, the Grand Dragon of a local faction of Nazis, and you don’t resonate with a single one of his beliefs?”

Chris shouted instantly, “NO!”

You scoffed, unconvinced, folding your arms.

“Fuck, man!” Chris groaned, throwing his arms in the air. “You told her I was racist?”

Adrian shrugged innocently, “I only told her your dad was racist.”

“Whatever!” Chris barked, wheeling back toward you. “Seriously, why out of all the fuck-nuts in the world did you pick this one?”

The atmosphere shifted, your irritation softening as you turned your face to Adrian.

A pause hung, tender, as you two locked eyes—your smile curling gently, lovestruck, his gaze utterly devoted.

“Because,” you said softly, “this fuck-nut has always loved me for who I was, not how I looked.”

Your hand brushed his jaw.

“He’s kind... he’s funny... he’s protective. He’s been cute since day one, and…” a sly grin tugged your lips. “…it doesn’t hurt that he’s got mind-blowing dick.”

Adrian’s chest puffed, eyes going glossy with emotion.

“Babe…” his voice cracked as he peppered your cheeks and temple with sweet, fluttering kisses.

Chris’s brows knit, face twisted in confusion, “Wait—really?”

You looked at him plainly, shameless, “Really. I haven’t used a vibrator in years.”

Adrian beamed with boyish pride, “Yeah, man. I'm her vibrator.”

Chris just stared, mouth open, gobsmacked.

Finally, he shook his head, muttering, “Jesus Christ…”

You ignored him, turning your attention back to Adrian, “What was it you needed, baby?”

“Oh, right!” Adrian perked up instantly, snapping his fingers. “I left something in your room.”

And without another word, he darted up the stairs, boots thudding quickly against the wood.

Silence hung between you and Chris.

His eyes stayed locked on you, hungry, predatory, like a lion sizing up a gazelle.

You rolled your eyes.

Another beat.

Then—

“…So, you and Vigilante ever… experiment?” Chris asked, voice low, sly.

“I don’t do threesomes with racists," you cut him off, flatly.

“I’M NOT A—!” Chris shouted, veins bulging.

But before he could finish, Adrian’s footsteps thundered back down the stairs.

“All good!” Adrian announced cheerfully, bounding toward the door. “Got everything. We can go kill the target now.”

Chris shot you a look, brow arched, “You’re cool with this?”

You shrugged, lips quirking sly, “Everybody has their hobbies. And worst-case scenario, I’m a criminal defense attorney.”

Adrian puffed up proudly, “She’s amazing. She’s making partner soon!”

You smirked at Chris, tilting your head condescendingly, “It’s a wonder what studying and actually paying attention in class can do for you in the long run.”

Chris blinked, then looked down at himself in quiet defeat.

You escorted them to the door.

As Chris trudged down the walkway toward the Sebring, Adrian lingered on the porch, turning back to you with a soft smile.

“Bye, babe,” he murmured.

You cupped his masked face tenderly, “Be careful. Remember, the hospital has me on speed dial.”

“I will,” he promised, melting into your touch.

Then your lips curled into a devilish, seductive smirk.

Your hands slid slowly down his face to his chest, nails teasing through his suit, “And if you’re up for it… we could have a little fun later tonight.”

His cheeks pinked, but his eyes darkened, smirk tugging, “Don’t go to sleep.”

“I won’t,” you breathed.

Then his lips crashed into yours, rough and urgent.

He pinned you firmly against the door, bodies flush, heat sparking instantly.

His hands grasped at your waist, your hips, pulling you closer as your robe slipped higher.

Your fingers fisted into his hair, tugging hard as you whimpered softly into his mouth.

The kiss deepened, hungry, wet, teeth clashing slightly.

He groaned low in his chest, pressing harder, devouring you like he couldn’t get enough.

Chris groaned audibly, throwing his hands in the air, “OH MY FUCKING GOD, we have a target to kill!”

Adrian didn’t even look back.

He held one finger out behind him, still lip-locked with you, tongues tangling.

Finally, he pulled away with a flourish, leaving you gasping, lips swollen and wet.

With a lovesick smile, you reached up to fix his glasses, straightening them delicately.

He rewarded you with a tender kiss to your forehead before spinning toward the car.

“Alright, man,” he chirped happily as he jogged down the steps. “Let’s go kill some bad guys.”

Chris just glared, grumbling bitterly under his breath as he yanked open the driver’s side door.

Adrian slipped easily into the passenger side, still humming with joy.

The Sebring’s engine roared to life, and with one last bitter glance back at you on the porch, Chris pulled out of the driveway, tires crunching over the pavement as they drove off into the night.

.

.

.

BONUS !!

The Sebring hummed along the cracked two-lane road, headlights slicing through the dark as pine trees blurred by on either side.

Chris had both hands strangling the steering wheel, his jaw tight, eyes set forward.

Every once in a while, his lips twitched like he wanted to say something, but he’d just grumble under his breath instead, the words lost under the hum of the engine.

Adrian, meanwhile, sat in the passenger seat like a kid who just got a gold star on a spelling test.

His mask was in his lap, but that smile—broad, goofy, almost lovesick—never left his face.

He was still buzzing with the feel of your lips on his, your scent clinging to his suit, your hands dragging down his chest.

His heart was doing little flips.

He looked out the window, then back at Chris, then down at the velvet box in his pocket, and back out the window again.

He couldn’t stop.

His whole body felt light.

“She’s amazing, right?” Adrian finally said, voice breaking the silence.

He turned, smile soft, his whole face lit up.

Chris let out a scoff so sharp it might as well have been a knife.

“She’s a fuckin’ piece of work,” he grumbled, eyes locked on the road, jaw flexing.

Adrian just kept smiling, undeterred.

He tilted his head, the joy in his tone too genuine to be touched.

There was another beat of silence before Chris blurted, “You guys really have… mind-blowing sex?”

His voice cracked a little at the end, like he couldn’t believe he was asking.

“Yup,” Adrian said without hesitation, completely casual. “She’s the best I’ve ever had. Only I've ever had. Being inside her is like—” he let out a dreamy sigh, “heaven on Earth.”

Chris’s grip on the wheel slipped for a second, the Sebring swerving half a foot before he jerked it back, “What the fuck?”

Adrian leaned back, eyes going distant as if replaying a reel only he could see.

“One time, we went at it for five hours straight. No stopping. And I swear—” he leaned forward, hand gesturing animatedly—“right before I came, I think I saw another dimension. Like… the curtain lifted, you know? Beyond space and time.”

Chris’s eyes went wide, “Jesus Christ.”

Adrian just nodded happily, sinking back into the seat with a sigh.

There was a long silence before Chris coughed into his fist.

“So… are you guys, like, open to experimenting?”

Adrian turned his head, brow furrowing behind his glasses.

He'd heard his so-called BFF proposition you back at the house, but let it slide as you immediately shut it down.

He didn't think the asshole would try again.

“You ever ask my girlfriend for a threesome again, I will cut your dick off and feed it to you. Okay?” he threatened, voice sharp and cutting.

The smile stayed.

The threat was very real.

Chris stiffened, “Jesus, alright! Defensive much? Just asking.”

He shifted uncomfortably, then scrambled for a new subject.

“So, uh, what the hell did you even need from her place anyway?”

That grin spread across Adrian’s face again as he reached into his utility belt.

He fished out a small black velvet box and held it up with a flourish.

Chris’s eyes locked on it, his shoulders dropping, “No fucking way..."

“Yes way!” Adrian beamed, flipping the lid open to reveal a diamond that looked like it belonged in a music video.

The thing sparkled like it had its own light source.

“You like it? Been saving since freshman year.”

Chris’s jaw went slack.

“No fucking way!” he repeated, louder this time.

“Uh-huh!” Adrian chirped, holding the box up proudly.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Chris pointed at him like he was calling bullshit. “You’re telling me… you come home every night to a smokin’-hot, sexy-as-fuck lawyer babe who actually likes you, who bangs your brains out on the regular, and you haven’t wifed her up yet?"

He scoffs.

"Dude, high school was thirteen years ago!”

Adrian winced, groaning as he slumped back in his seat, “I know, okay? I know. I wanted to marry her right after graduation, but her parents would’ve freaked out. And I needed a ring. Like… a real ring.”

Chris narrowed his eyes, “How long have you had that thing?”

Adrian’s voice was sheepish, almost boyish.

“...Eight years.”

Chris slammed his hand against the steering wheel, “EIGHT FUCKING YEARS?!”

Adrian groaned again, clutching his head, “I’m waiting for the right moment!”

“There is no right moment, dipshit!” Chris shouted, face red. “Do it soon before somebody else swoops in and steals her!”

Adrian tilted his head, genuinely confused.

Then he chuckled.

“What, like you?”

Chris looked wounded, “It’s entirely possible!”

Adrian shook his head firmly, “Absolutely not. She hates your guts.”

Chris gasped, clutching his chest.

“Wait... really?”

“Uh, yeah,” Adrian said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Chris sat there, lips pressed in a pout, but before he could argue, the Sebring rolled to a slow stop.

Adrian perked up, box still in hand.

“We’re here!” he announced brightly, popping open the passenger door and stepping out with a bounce in his step.

He shut the door behind him, practically humming with joy.

Chris stayed in the car for a second, glaring down at the wheel.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered before finally shoving his own door open.

.

.

ADRIAN AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . doesn’t fall in love the way anyone else does. it’s not soft, it’s not romantic, not tender. it’s sharp. obsessive. idolizing.

he’s intensely focused on you. he notices the way you pick up your mug, the exact pattern you walk across the room, the way your hair falls over your shoulder when you’re concentrating. he’ll mimic these things sometimes, just to understand them better. because he can’t process people the usual way, he processes you.

stalks you but frames it as “monitoring.” he’s not hiding in shadows. he’s openly perched on a rooftop or in his car down the street, waving when you pass by. you text him “are you following me?” he texts back “yes :)” like it’s normal. he genuinely believes it’s his duty.

desperate for you and Peacemaker to get along. he’ll engineer these awkward, overexcited hangouts where he drags you both out for lunch or a mission debrief, convinced it’s going to be “like, the ultimate power trio.” he hovers nervously between you two, making jokes and trying to mediate if there’s any tension. you catch him glancing between you like a hopeful kid whose parents are meeting for the first time.

he’s a mess with emotions. he doesn’t get casual intimacy. he doesn’t naturally know how to comfort you, so he’s constantly watching. you teach him what’s acceptable. sometimes he screws up anyway, overcorrecting, pressing too hard, speaking too much, but you can see he’s trying.

he’s so proud to be with you. like absurdly. he brings you up in every conversation, even when it’s wildly out of context. it’s not subtle. it’s like he’s waiting for the world to clap for you.

brags about you to strangers. you’re at the gas station and he’s pumping gas and the cashier gets a nod from him: “my partner’s inside. they’re the smartest person i know.” the cashier blinks. he keeps going. “they’re great at puzzles. like, amazing.” there’s no point to it except he can’t stop himself.

he’s… idiosyncratic with affection. you may have to teach him literally how to kiss you, how to touch you, how to hold you. sometimes it comes out robotic at first.

sits in his car watching you through a diner window, chin in his hand, dreamy expression like a teenager. when you catch him, he smiles big, waggles his fingers in a wave, then mimes “eat your fries!” across the glass. he looks delighted when you roll your eyes at him.

memorizes your entire schedule like a mission briefing. where you park, what days you get coffee, which friend you see on thursdays. he doesn’t see it as invasive, it’s preparation. if something happens, he can deploy immediately.

constantly seeks your approval. if he does something, even tiny, he needs you to notice. he’ll bring home a flower he thought looked nice, show you a trick he practiced, or even just put a new shirt on and pause in front of you. the instant you smile, he relaxes like he’s just won a small victory.

takes you to places, gun ranges, arcades, abandoned parking lots, and snaps photos of you like you’re a celebrity. then he posts a blurry pic to his barely used socials with captions like “they’re the best” and five emojis that don’t make sense.

he idolizes you. everything you do becomes a benchmark in his mind. if you smile, he freezes for a second, cataloging the curve of your lips. if you correct him, he files it immediately, adjusting himself, internalizing it. you are simultaneously his teacher, his obsession, and his guide. he can’t distinguish between admiration and obsession, they blur together.

hopeless at reading your emotions. if you don’t spell it out, he won’t notice. you can be sitting there silently spiraling and he’ll just assume you’re tired. but the second you actually tell him you’re sad or angry or scared, his whole focus snaps onto you. “oh. weird. okay. how do i fix it?”

he doesn’t understand social interactions. he needs you to teach him boundaries, small talk, facial expressions. he’ll copy them initially with uncanny accuracy, then tweak and test, trying to see how they make you react.

gets jealous but it’s not dramatic. it’s like a dog with its hackles up but not sure how to bark. someone compliments you? he immediately goes stiff and starts making weird little digs. “wow, yeah, thanks for noticing. they look even better in the mornings. i’d know.” it’s not threatening, but it’s definitely something.

when he’s jealous his brain goes into overdrive. he starts blurting random facts about you to stake a claim. “they hate pineapple on pizza. did you know that?” the other person blinks. he keeps going. “they like their coffee black but only after 10 a.m. or it upsets their stomach.” you’re like adrian, stop. but he’s trying to show “i know them. they’re mine.”

his jealousy isn’t a threat, it’s a meltdown. he pouts. gets passive‑aggressive. starts doing weird stunts to pull your attention back. one time he tried to juggle knives at a party because someone else made you laugh.

sees you as his anchor and compass. he’ll literally pause mid-action and call you to ask your opinion. “hey, hypothetically, if someone was selling drugs but also had a dog, is it still okay to kill them? you’re smart, tell me what to do.”

obsessed with the little things you do when you’re not thinking. like the face you make reading, the way you twist a pen cap, the tiny sound you make when you’re annoyed. he stares at you like you’re a wildlife documentary. if you catch him, he doesn’t look away, he just smiles, dreamy and open, like you’re the only thing in the room.

gets weirdly competitive when someone tries to impress you. like, you mention a coworker who runs marathons? next thing you know adrian’s showing you his push‑up count.

texts you constantly but it’s never normal. half of it is updates on where he is (“on the roof. nice breeze.”), half of it is selfies from absurd angles (“look at this raccoon i found”), and the rest are non sequitur compliments (“your hair smelled good this morning”).

if you’re ever sad he doesn’t know how to comfort you, so he becomes a whirlwind of distraction. buys you snacks, tells you weird crime stories, drags you out for midnight slushies, tries to make you laugh. he doesn’t always succeed, but he’s relentless about it.

keeps a running tally of things you taught him. it’s scribbled in a notebook. how to make grilled cheese. how to sit quietly without fidgeting. how to say i’m sorry without sounding sarcastic. he studies it like flashcards.

when you’re with friends he watches you with this soft, almost alien expression, like he’s trying to understand how you exist in groups. if someone makes you laugh he leans in and copies the joke later, like testing a script.

never really stops looking at you. even when he’s eating, or cleaning a gun, or scrolling his phone, his eyes flick back to you every few seconds, like a tic.

brutally literal responses. if you ask “do i look weird?” and you do, he’ll just go “yeah, kinda” while tilting his head, completely confused when you get upset. it’s not malice, his filter just isn’t there.

has zero shame about his obsession. if someone accuses him of being creepy for how he follows you around, he’s just like “yeah but they’re safe though, right?” and thinks that’s the end of it.

can’t keep secrets from you. not because he’s honest but because he’s bad at hiding things. you’ll say “were you following me?” and he’ll go “well, yeah. you didn’t see me?” proud, like he thinks you’ll be impressed.

obsessed with your smell, your perfume, your shampoo, your hoodie. he’ll bury his face in it like a cat and just stay there.

always comes to you first, no matter what. if someone tells him a secret, or he witnesses something unusual, he finds you immediately. “you have to hear this,” he says, breathless and wide-eyed. it doesn’t matter if it’s trivial or serious, he trusts your reaction above anyone else’s.

compulsively snitches on everyone to you. even minor stuff. “peacemaker said a bad word about Batman again” or “Economos was eating tuna out of the can at his desk, disgusting.” he treats you like the only person he can fully confide in, bringing every piece of gossip and nonsense to you like a cat bringing gifts.

tells you literally everything he does. “i went to the gas station. i bought chips. i almost tripped over a rock. i thought about you. i hummed a song. i killed a guy.” (delivered in the same tone as “i bought chips”). it’s all one long stream of consciousness and he expects you to listen like it’s the most important intel in the world.

he’s a chatterbox. like, relentless. he will tell you about everything he did that day, from brushing his teeth to walking down the street, in vivid detail. he thrives on your attention, your nods, your little smiles.

constantly asks you to “watch this” like a kid.

loves random facts and trivia, even when he’s not sure they’re correct. he’ll tell you things like “did you know penguins propose to their mates with pebbles?” and then he’ll wait eagerly for your response, beaming like it’s the most important conversation in the world.

he’ll literally monologue. follow you into the bathroom while you brush your teeth and start telling you about obscure weapons, obscure TV theme songs, or something Peacemaker once said. 90% of the time the facts are wrong but he’s so earnest you let him finish.

will climb over furniture or squeeze into small spaces just to be near you. if you’re on the couch reading, he’s sprawled across the floor with his head on your knees. if you’re cooking, he’s perched on the counter beside you. he refuses to be more than a few feet away.

he’s unfiltered. he’ll tell you things other people might not want shared, friends’ secrets, something awkward a coworker said, but he frames it like he’s doing you a favor.

yaps constantly, and it’s adorable because he can’t stop himself. he narrates mundane things with enthusiasm: “and then the bus stopped and the driver sneezed three times—oh! you would’ve loved that!” he craves your laughter or at least acknowledgment, and your smile makes him light up like a kid. constantly narrating life to you, like a tour guide or a commentator. “watch out, car coming,” “that pigeon looks angry,” “we’re about to cross a puddle… careful.” it’s excessive but endearing.

he has no real filter about what’s “appropriate couple behavior.” he’ll say, in front of everyone, “i like watching you sleep. you look peaceful. like a frog.” and then grin like it’s the most romantic thing ever.

always wants to be included in your plans. if you say you’re meeting friends, he somehow ends up there early, acting casual, just to be close and make sure you’re safe. you can’t get away with being alone for long.

sometimes mirrors your movements unconsciously. tilts his head when you tilt yours, sips his drink after you do, imitates your laugh when he’s nervous. he’s not aware he’s doing it half the time.

always wants you to witness his “achievements,” even small ones. if he figures out a tricky problem, lands a stunt, or even just cooks something edible, he seeks you out immediately. your reaction matters more than anyone else’s.

cannot handle you being upset with him. if you’re quiet for more than two minutes, he’s immediately leaning in: “are you mad at me? did I do something?” then starts rattling off everything he did that day trying to identify the problem.

clings to every compliment you give him. if you once said “you look good in blue,” suddenly half his wardrobe is blue. if you said “you’re really funny,” he repeats the joke to the team just to see if it hits again.

uses you as his moral compass. he’ll pause before doing something violent and ask himself, “would [you] be mad?” if yes, he hesitates. if no, he goes ahead and does it.

if you don’t pick up when he calls, he’ll just… keep going. no shame. you’ll glance down and see 17, 32, 67 missed calls stacked from him. each voicemail is like an unhinged little diary entry. “hey, it’s me again. i just saw a dog that looked like you’d like it. anyway call me. it’s me by the way.” then “okay fifth voicemail, i’m starting to think you’re mad at me but that’s fine i’m still calling.” he narrates his day through voicemails until you finally answer.

starts collecting your catchphrases or little sayings. if you once called someone a “weirdo,” now it’s his favorite insult. if you said “cool beans” offhand, now he says it constantly.

proud of taking care of you but in off-kilter ways. like, if someone cuts you off in traffic he’s genuinely shocked you don’t want him to follow them home.

keeps all your selfies. like all of them. if you ever scroll through his phone, it’s thousands of your pictures, even the ones you thought were throwaways.

does security sweeps of your apartment when you’re not there. windows locked, doors checked, your food expiration dates. you’ll come home to a post-it: “all clear! –adrian :)”

if you’re gone longer than expected, he’s already on your trail. tracking your location, calling, walking your usual routes. he doesn’t see it as invasive, in his head he’s protecting you.

if you ask him to do something small, he does it instantly and then looks at you for praise. like a dog bringing back a stick.

when you lecture him he sits there and pouts like a wet cat. arms crossed, eyes flicking up to you every few seconds, muttering things under his breath like “ok but i was just trying to help.” he’ll stomp off to the kitchen dramatically, but you’ll hear him still hovering, waiting for you to call him back.

intimacy for him is 90% emotional. he doesn’t initiate sex. he likes sleeping next to you, the weight of your head on his chest, tracing your hair, feeling your heartbeat. when you do initiate something physical, he’s laser-focused on your comfort, your pleasure, your cues.

he thinks romance is more about access and protection than flowers. he’d rather stay up all night on your couch watching you sleep than plan a candlelit dinner.

checks in constantly. “do you like me today?” “am i a good boyfriend?” “are you gonna leave me?”

has no sense of boundaries. will follow you to the bathroom door mid-story because he isn’t finished talking. if you actually say “stop” or “i need space,” he freezes, nods, and waits like a scolded puppy outside the door.

wants to take you shooting the way other people take their partners bowling. thinks “sharing a skill” is intimacy. he’ll line up your hands with his, adjust your stance with ridiculous concentration, and beam like you just drew a masterpiece if you hit anywhere near the target.

gets pouty if you do an activity without him. even something small like going to a café. he’ll sulk for a while, then bombard you with “what did you do? who was there? was it fun? did you miss me?” texts until you reassure him.

he doesn’t pick up on sarcasm. if you say “i’m fine” but mean “i’m not,” he’ll take it at face value and genuinely think you’re okay even if you’re clearly not.

his sensory quirks show up in quiet ways. he’s picky about certain fabrics, cuts tags out of his clothes, and will swap out your laundry detergent for the one he likes without telling you.

has zero sense of privacy. he will sit on the edge of the tub while you’re brushing your teeth. he’ll follow you from room to room while you’re on the phone. not because he’s trying to irritate you, it just doesn’t occur to him to leave.

he narrates fights or confrontations to you like a child bringing home a report card. “i totally disarmed this guy in three seconds,” “peacemaker said i was being reckless but i wasn’t.” sits on the couch swinging his legs, waiting for you to react.

loves driving you places but he’s an absolute menace. blasting music, narrating other drivers’ mistakes, making up spy names for you over the bluetooth. you’re constantly grabbing the oh shit handle while he’s grinning.

physically cannot leave you out of his plans. if he’s going to the store for one thing, you’re invited. if you say no, he’ll Facetime you from the frozen food aisle asking which ice cream to get, holding each pint up to the camera.

he’ll wait outside anywhere just to drive you home. even if you said you’re fine. he’s already parked. “surprise! i’m your ride.”

makes you safety briefings like you’re a new recruit. whenever you’re about to go somewhere new, he’ll pace in front of you with a print-out map, color-coded danger zones, emergency escape routes. completely serious. “if you get lost, this is our rally point.”

weirdly ceremonial about small stuff. every time you finish a tv season together, he insists on a “graduation handshake.” every time you try a new restaurant, he plants a flag (a toothpick with your initials). he thinks it’s romantic.

collects “intel” on people who annoy you. not to hurt them (necessarily) but to hand you a whole folder like “look at this jerk’s LinkedIn. what a clown.” proud of himself for “helping.”

obsessed with giving you field names. when you go grocery shopping you’re “alpha six,” at the laundromat you’re “ghost falcon.” He uses them dead serious until you make him laugh.

will literally stand outside your work just to walk you home. even in the rain. even if you told him not to. stands there dripping with water, proud of himself.

if you draw a line (“don’t follow me to work today”) he’ll take it but still find a loophole (sitting on a rooftop across the street with binoculars.)

sometimes he’ll blurt something like “well you’re overreacting” or “you’re acting weird” and then stare at you blankly while you process it.

passive-aggressive “i’m not mad.” when he’s angry he will say “i’m not mad” about five times in a row, hands fidgeting, jaw tight, before dropping increasingly weird one-liners under his breath like “some people just don’t understand basic loyalty” while stirring his cereal aggressively.

silent pout sessions. instead of yelling he’ll sit at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, tapping his knee. occasionally tosses out comments like “guess i’m just the idiot boyfriend again” and then act like he didn’t say anything.

a / n ᝰ .ᐟ thank you to anyone who commented or sent in suggestions for other characters you’d like to see!! im taking notes, im seeing lots of the holy trinity, batfam, spider-man and bob reynolds. ✍️ ✍️ feel free to send in more char requests :]

started 9.26.2025. finished 9.26.2025

( masterlist. )

©️ monicfever 2025

Bunching his brows in confusion, Ryland quickly shut the door. He considered yelling your name but he decided against it. You were obviously here, there was nowhere else for you to be, so you must’ve been the one making the noises, but he just didn’t know what you were doing that could make such a noise. Washing the dishes maybe? Cleaning something? He couldn’t help but think that the noise sounded familiar, and in the couple of seconds it took to toe off his shoes, he had a hunch.

Shrugging his cardigan off his shoulders, Ryland hurried to the living room where the sounds seemed to be the loudest. His cardigan fell to the floor and his jaw dropped alongside it when he turned the corner.

You were home alright, alongside the two other members of your family- your mates, as they insisted you and Ryland call them. Rocky and Adrian had decided to stop by while Ryland was gone. And, apparently, they couldn’t keep their claws to themselves.

Adrian sat on the floor- a looming presence in the room considering their sheer size. Ryland often thought it was a miracle they’re even able to squeeze through the front door. Adrian was using three of their arms to tilt themselves back enough to expose the ventral seam on the underside of their carapace, which was gaping wide, oozing silver and had a long, meaty appendage snaking out that ran up and disappeared in your ass. 

Adrian’s ovipositor was a deep, navy blue and almost three feet long when fully unfurled. Obviously, only a fraction of that was used during sex with you and Ryland, but the girth of it wasn’t any less intimidating. Ryland still struggled taking it when he and Adrian partnered up.

The first time seeing the sex organs Eridians carried was terrifying and a little off putting. Rocky had been a nice, gentle introduction to the appendage on the Hail Mary- only sporting just over a foot of length and on the skinnier side. It was something you and Ryland could handle after minimal preparation and found to greatly enjoy it with time. Once on Erid and seeing what your new gigantic mate had? It took a while to get used to. 

You were next. Held in Adrian’s two remaining arms, the large turquoise Eridian held you against their carapace, your back pressed to the hard rock while their claws clasped under your knees to pull them back and spread your legs wide. A position one might find themselves in while giving birth. Except you most certainly weren’t giving birth. You weren’t even touching the floor, body suspended a foot away from the tile thanks to the strength of the Eridian behind you.

Rocky completed the Eridian sandwich at your front. Two of his legs held him upright, lifting his carapace just high enough to be level with your pussy. Rocky’s ventral seam, which was also open and exposing his fleshy interior, pressed nearly flush with your sex. Ryland could only see about an inch or so of space between the two of you, and could only see a tiny portion of Rocky’s meaty pink ovipositor, but he could guess where the rest of it was hidden.

The two Eridians were harmonizing together in such a way Ryland couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they were undoubtedly speaking praises to you.

You looked absolutely exhausted.

Pinned between the two, it was obvious the three of you had been at it for a while. The silvery fluids splattered between your legs and your overwhelmed, pinched brow was also a big tell. As the two tentacle-like organs with minds of their own battered your holes, the rest of your body wasn’t left alone either. 

The blue claws that kept your legs spread were gently kneading the flesh there, a constant pulse of pressure to your thighs courtesy of Adrian. Human’s squishy, fleshy bodies still enamored your mates; they found any chance they could to hold, knead and press against yours and Ryland’s softer bits.

Rocky was also kneading your skin with a claw, focusing on your stomach this time to feel the softness and the slightly raised protuberance where his ovipositor curled inside your cunt. His second free claw was pressed to your tongue, coaxing drool from your lips to wet the rock while his third claw rubbed rough circles over your clit. Your mates knew you derived most of your pleasure from stimulation there, so they made it a point to make sure the bundle of nerves wasn’t ignored.

Ryland popped a boner almost immediately.

In the almost year of being mates, this was the first time he’d walked in on such a scene. It wasn’t the first time he’d sat out while you had your fun with Rocky and Adrian, that had happened plenty of times, but Ryland was always there to watch. Something must’ve happened to get the three of you so amped up that you couldn’t wait until he returned home. 

Rocky and Adrian seemed… much more passionate than they usually were too. They usually tried to be very cautious with their fragile mates but that didn’t seem to be the case today.

Ryland took only one step towards the trio before Rocky’s familiar trills demanded something from him.

“No. Grace stay away until mates have finished.”

God, he couldn’t even get closer to watch??

Ryland was stuck on the sidelines, watching the obscene fucking happening in his living room and not able to do a single thing about it. He wanted to come to your side and kiss you stupid- he wanted to take your chest in his hands and give your peaked nipples some attention. Your eyes had been screwed shut ever since he walked in, a stream of garbled moans escaping you at the undoubtedly overwhelming rush of pleasure you were receiving from every angle. He wanted to be a part of it too but apparently he wasn’t allowed. Ryland just resorted to palming himself through his pants.

A couple of minutes passed before a visible shudder ran through you and your head flung back to knock against Adrian’s carapace. That couldn’t have felt very good but you made no indication you’d even felt the pain. Your legs seized around Rocky’s body, toes curling as the two Eridians prolonged your orgasm with their prehensile organs and rubbing claws until you finally began to slump, muscles relaxing. 

You and the scientist learned the hard way that Eridian’s stamina was much more impressive than a human's. It took several orgasms (or the Eridian version of an orgasm, anyway) for them to even begin to feel tired. The true peak to an Eridian’s pleasure was during a mating season of sorts as a mated pair (or group) prepared to lay their eggs together. Their sex organs became extremely sensitive to stimulation. It was a sacred time for Eridians and one that only came around every couple of years. 

Ryland suspected that time was approaching. He noticed a couple of days back that Rocky and Adrian became much more… clingy than usual; overly physically affectionate and touchy. Rocky would rub against your legs like a cat, winding an arm around your thigh to stroke the flesh and make you trip over your feet. Adrian wanted to have the two of you in their arms as much as possible. For the past three days, both Ryland and yourself woke up in the cradle of their arms instead of the comfort of your bed as they watched you sleep.

Walking in on a scene like this just solidified to Ryland what he theorized.

For the first time since Ryland joined the stuffy room, the thrusting slowed to a stop. The ovipositors stuffed inside you stopped their visible pulsing. Your chest was heaving in the air, breath ragged as you fell limp. The metallic fluid that dripped out of your core when Rocky slowly retracted his appendage (with some difficulty, as the organs had a nasty habit of trying to stay seated) fell in rivulets down your slit, splattering on the living room floor and painting it silver. 

You whimpered when the almost foot long of soft, pliable flesh slipped free of your heat, leaving you empty and raw. Adrian made no move to retract theirs from you, but they did ease up their hold on your knees, cradling you against them a bit more comfortably to give your tired legs a break from being in such an uncomfortable, exposed position.

“Couldn’t have waited for me, huh?” Ryland grumbled, tugging his t-shirt off his body.

Both Rocky and Adrian chirped a firm, “No.”

Ryland looked at you with concern. You were slumped against the turquoise rock, eyes still closed and breath beginning to even out. Just how long had you three been at it? Judging by the state of your pussy; swollen and red underneath the smattering of silver and milky white release, he could only guess.

Rocky skittered up to Ryland’s side and tugged on the leg of his pants.

“Ready for Grace to join now.”

With Rocky’s unneeded help, Ryland was bare in no time and finally took the brief opportunity to kneel next to you, brushing the damp hair from your forehead. Your eyes peeled open and you gazed up at him 

“H-Hey baby.” It was the first time you acknowledged that Ryland was even in the room.

“Hi, sweetheart. You look tired. How many times have they-”

“Mate achieve sexual climax seven times,” Adrian hummed, arms lifting you a little like they were proud, claws gently stroking your calves. 

Ryland choked on his saliva. “Seven?”

Rocky pressed close and lifted his carapace higher, like he was proud too. “Yes.”

“Guys, humans need breaks-”

“Mate never said word,” Adrian chirped. All of you had a safeword just in case your couplings became a little too overwhelming and someone needed to take a breather. Apparently, you hadn’t deemed it necessary to say it. Or maybe you were so fucked silly, you couldn’t remember what it was.

‘Did give breaks’ is what Rocky chipped in. You lifted your hand and pinched two of your fingers together with a millimeter of space between them. Little breaks, is what that communicated to him. Probably barely a minute a piece.

“Ok, well I think we should wait before-”

“No. Must do now. Statement.” Rocky began trying to herd Ryland between your relaxed legs, which was commonly where he wound up when all four of you were having sex. Ryland brushed him off.

“Why?”

Rocky seemed hesitant to answer, and Adrian chose to stay quiet. “...just must.”

“Is it that time of year that you told us about? The egg season, or whatever you call it?”

The shoves from the brown and light green Eridian became firmer and Ryland had no choice but to move where he was pushed. Rocky was incredibly strong. The blond knelt between your legs, Adrian lowering you close enough to the ground so you were almost sitting. The looming turquoise being kept you slightly elevated, given the girthy protuberance still buried up your ass. It wouldn’t be very comfortable for either of you if you sat on it.

“Yes,” Adrian finally answered. “Clutches almost ready. Want mates ready to receive them.”

“Woah, woah! Time out!” Ryland made a T with his hands. Adrian’s carapace tilted at the gesture. Rocky made an annoyed noise. “We still need to have a discussion about that! We haven’t agreed to house any eggs.” You didn’t look like you were listening to a word he said, instead looking like you were about to fall asleep. “Besides, your clutches don’t need a host to thrive, they’re just fine staying in a regular nest. You guys want to include us in the process which is sweet and all but… can’t we just babysit them or something?”

“Could. But clutch much safer and warmer in mate.” Adrian seemed pretty set on this idea. Ryland wanted to argue that human bodies were not warm compared to an Eridian, but someone was getting impatient.

Claws shoved against his back, knocking him forward to nearly topple onto you. He stopped himself with his hands just in time, planting them on Adrian’s carapace. Their body thrummed at the contact. You blinked up at him with a smile.

“Do you need to switch positions, sweetheart?” Ryland whispered. “Or need a pillow or something for your back?” Adrian wasn’t very comfortable to lay on without some sort of padding, especially when naked.

You shook your head. “I’m ok. I’m more comfortable laying like this anyway. It hurts to squish my face into Adrian if I turn onto my stomach. I can last a little longer.”

If you say so. Ryland took great care when he guided his tip to your drooling cunt, being as gentle as possible as he slid inside. Your throat bobbed but you didn’t protest, only sighing through your nose with a grunt. Compared to Rocky, Ryland’s dick didn’t hold a candle. He wasn’t small by any means, but he also wasn’t a foot long and have a cock that could twist and curl against your walls. You weren’t complaining though.

Speaking of Rocky, he didn’t waste any more time to press Ryland’s torso closer to yours in order to bare the scientist's ass to the room.

One thing Ryland still couldn’t get used to, even after a year and then some of having this weird, gross alien sex, was the heat. Eridian’s ovipositors are hot, and every inch that snakes into you is an inch of fiery warmth that could become borderline uncomfortable at times. 

Ryland’s forehead hit your sternum as he felt the molten heat beginning to creep through his intestines. Usually, Rocky would take more time to get Ryland prepped but given how wet Rocky already was thanks to you, he slid in easily.

Once Rocky was fully seated and Ryland could feel the bumpy underside of his friend scrape against his ass, the Eridians didn’t hesitate to start rutting, tearing moans out of your throats. Ryland didn’t have to thrust into you at all, Rocky’s pistoning doing all of the work for him by moving his hips to and from your pelvis.

Your hands, which had been gripping the turquoise arms that kept you elevated, moved to tug Ryland’s face down into a sloppy kiss. There was no gentleness to it, just a desperate clashing of teeth and tongue. You swallowed Ryland’s yelp of surprise when he felt a claw clamp around his balls. Rocky’s small hand rolled the heaviness between his rough fingers, fondling the sack and coaxing the first odd spurts of cum from his tip. Your gummy walls squeezed around his shaft and Ryland could feel the rhythmic drag of Adrian’s ovipositor against your walls from the inside. 

It was hard to feel where Eridian began and human ended.

Your feet hooked around Ryland’s waist to squeeze him closer, a strangled sob escaping you when the coarse pubic hair at his base scraped against your raw clit. Ryland kissed your tears away.

Ryland came first. With your heat hugging him so tightly and Rocky’s ovipositor twisting and writhing deep in his gut, bumping erratically against his prostate, he had no chance of lasting more than a couple of minutes (the Eridians always complained that humans cum too fast). While he filled you, Adrian came next. You felt them pulse, quake and another fresh load of hot, silvery fluid filled your ass. Your vision turned white soon after and your depleted body found a weak, pathetic finish.

You presumed Rocky eventually finished after a couple of pumps because you felt Ryland’s navel get warmer against yours and he groaned against your jaw. The four of you sat, soaking each other in and coming down from your combined highs. Ryland was the one that moved first.

“Alright, (Y/n) is tapping out. I’m tapping out for them.”

“What mean tapping out, question?” Rocky asked, bracing his claws on Ryland’s hips to pull his vent away. His ovipositor tried everything in its power to stay buried but with some tugging and a wet shlop, the organ fell free and plapped to the floor. A rush of silver followed. 

Ryland gently eased his cock from you. “They’re done for the day. They need rest.”

There were some low grumbly notes of protest.

The blond sat back on his heels to help you stand but Adrian beat him to it. The big Eridian softly pulled the navy ovipositor from you and the rush of shimmery cum that followed was immense and sticky. Cradling you in their arms, Adrian stood and brought you to the corner of the room where a giant makeshift nest lay. When the Eridians wanted to stay in the beach house instead of leaving the biodome, that’s where they bunked. They said the eggs they lay will go there too. Apparently, Adrian wanted you in there for the time being.

“Such good mate, get rest now. Ready for eggs very soon,” the alien cooed. You didn’t have the energy to argue. 

Nestling you into the pile of Eridian and Earth fabric replicas, Adrian tucked you in all nice and cozy with a deep, resonating hum of song before turning to scuttle back to the two sitting in the middle of the room. 

Ryland watched your eyes seal shut in exhaustion and gulped when Adrian scooped him off of the floor. 

It was his turn now.

alright everyoneeee get up and get dressed, it’s time to go to church! I really made up some total bullshit about eridian mating culture and biology for this. inspo for the anatomy came from this tumblr post and this reddit post! team huge adrian forever btw, this is an art piece for reference on how big I picture them! as always, thank you for reading :)

you were pulled out of the thoughts by the ringing of the doorbell, letting out a groan. you'd managed to move yourself from your bed to the couch, but now someone was forcing you to get up? cruel.

getting up, you pulled your shoulders up to your ears, still cold and shivering despite having a thick hoodie on, dragging yourself to the door, your muscles weak and hurting. but when you pulled open the door and saw who was behind it, you thought that your fever was now causing hallucinations until he spoke.

"i came by to see if i left my— what's wrong?" adrian asked, his brows furrowing and his lips twisting into a pout. you coughed into your sleeve, "it's nothing, just a little cold. what were you looking for?" "oh." adrian cleared his throat, "i wanted to see if you had my- uh, my shirt. the blue one."

"oh." you sniffed, "i might. you can come in and see."

after you'd let adrian into your apartment, he made his way to the bedroom you used to share, while you went back to the couch, wrapping yourself back into the blankets, a slight shiver going through your body.

"i couldn't find it." adrian stated, scratching the back of his neck, taking a few steps closer to the couch you were on, "are you sure you're good? you don't seem like it. have you eaten anything?"

"i'll be fine." you spoke in a stuffy voice. adrian frowned, shaking his head and making his way into the kitchen determinedly, "adrian, what are you doing?" you called out, "i'm making you soup!"

"adrian, you don't have to do that." you groaned, starting to get up off the couch, but before you could, adrian appeared in the doorway, pointer finger raised, "don't you dare get up. i know you won't eat unless i make you eat something. lay back down." "adrian, we aren't together anymore." "that doesn't matter. you're still my friend, and friends take care of each other. lay down or i'm going to have to knock you out."

you let out a sigh, but you knew him well enough to know that adrian's threat wasn't a joke, you relented, letting yourself collapse back down onto the couch while cupboards started creaking and pots started clanging in the kitchen.

after a short while, adrian came back into the living room with a small smile on his face, carrying your favorite kirby mug with tea in it and a bowl of the same tinned tomato soup he always made you when you were sick, with croutons placed on top in the shape of a smiley face, your lips quirking up slightly.

"ta-dah! my specialty." adrian said proudly, puffing his chest out, "adrian, you… really didn't have to do this." you coughed into your sleeve, adrian rolling his eyes, "please. you're like a baby when you're sick. so, what movie are we watching? it's been a while since we saw from up on poppy hill!"

"you're… staying?" you furrowed your brows as adrian settled down next to you, picking up the remote, "pssh, of course. you're hopeless on your own. so, from up on poppy hill?" you chuckled softly, nodding at his suggestion.

you weren't even sure at what point you fell asleep, but when your eyes started fluttering open, but at some point, adrian had switched my neighbor totoro on and you were almost in adrian's lap, clinging to him.

you cleared your throat, detaching yourself from him, the man turning to you, "sorry." you yawned, "i didn't realize i fell asleep." "it's okay. people usually don't realize they fall asleep." he smiled. "i put on my neighbor totoro. i know it's one of your favorites."

as you heard those words, you couldn't help the pang of guilt that hit you. here adrian was, spending his free time with the person who left him because she couldn't handle something she knew about long before they got together. here he was, taking care of her, doing things that he knew would make her feel better.

"what's wrong?"

you looked up to adrian with your brows raised in question, and he brought his hand to cup your face, the calluses on his warm, large hand feeling so familiar on your soft cheek, you couldn't help but lean into his touch, adrian's thumb wiping something away from your cheek, and when he pulled his hand away from your face, there was an ache in your chest eerily similar to the one on the day you left him, "there was a tear there. what's wrong?"

"i don't want to be alone."

adrian furrowed his brows at your blurted confession as you looked down in shame; talking about your feelings had never been your strong suit. "i don't have to leave if you don't want me to."

you took in a deep breath before looking back up at him, adrian's blue eyes glimmering through his lenses, the smallest hint of the smile you loved on his lips.

"i mean that... i didn't want to break up."

"huh?" adrian let out a quiet, confused chuckle, "what do you mean?"

"i didn't want to break up with you, adrian." "then... why did you?" "because... i'm scared. i know you heal from really severe things pretty easily, but i just worry that one day you're gonna get hurt in a way that isn't reversible. that you'll die doing your vigilante stuff, and i'll just be here without you, which would suck! because i've hated being without you for two weeks and i can't imagine being without you for like, sixty years or however long i'll live!"

adrian's eyes widened slightly, and you took in another deep breath, but just as you were about to continue speaking, he blurted something out.

"i didn't come here for my shirt. it's actually at home." "huh?" "i didn't come here for a shirt. i came here because it's sucked for me to be away from you too."

adrian took your hand in his, and you intertwined your fingers, both of you looking down at your hands to avoid looking at one another, "yeah, i might die. i mean, i will die, at some point, 'cause everyone does, but i might die because of my vigilante stuff." he finally looked up at you, and you finally looked at him, "but i think it's dumb that we're not together just 'cause i might die. you don't do vigilante stuff, but there's also a chance you might die any moment. you can get ran over, or have some kind of freak illness you don't even realize you have. you could get bit by a rabid dog and contract rabies."

you snorted at that, causing that stupid, adorable smile to appear on adrian's face, "i just don't think we should choose to be miserable now just because we might be miserable in the future." he shrugged. "so, like, YOLO?" "nobody says that anymore." adrian shook his head, pursing his lips. "fuck, even i might die doing some regular shit instead of vigilante stuff. if i get rabies, i don't think i'll survive that."

"alright. let's make a promise." you took your hand away from adrian's, lifting up your pinky, "if one of us gets rabies, both of us get rabies."

adrian shrugged, intertwining his pinky with yours, making you snort, "sure. i have always been curious what it'd feel like."

you laughed, letting go of his pinky and grabbing his jaw, bringing his face closer to yours, your voice turning into a whisper, a small smile on your lips, "if you die, i'm gonna come up with a way to revive you, just so i can kill you myself. and then i'll revive you again."

and when you pressed your lips against adrian's, it felt like the ache in your throat started easing up, your muscles already feeling slightly lighter, and your face was hot for entirely another reason.

because adrian was there to make you feel better when you were sick, and he'd continue to be there.

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Noticing your shocked expression, his face paled and he defensively waved his hands in front of him. “Don’t feel pressured to anything! Forget I said anything. Ugh how could I be so s—”

“I would like that!” you interrupted his panicked muttering. You flashed Adrian a smile and his face reddened.

“Cool! I will send you a message with the location. Does 20:00 tonight sound okay? I know about an awesome place that makes the best pizza” he returned your smile.

You nodded. Wait… “Text me? But you don’t have my number?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

His smile quivered slightly before he regained composure. “I— I uh… I meant on the school app! But maybe it would be more convenient if we exchanged numbers” he gave you his number and you made him as a new contact. You sent him a message and he replied back with a smiley.

“I will see tomorrow then!” you waved him goodbye. Tiny butterflies fluttered within your stomach at the thought of the date.

He slammed the door to his flat closed. Holy fuck. He was going on a date with you. It didn’t even feel real. His heart hammered against his ribs in excitement and he had to clutch his chest and breathed slowly through his mouth in order to calm himself down. He was glad he lived alone so he didn’t have to be careful with locking his room. He flung his black backpack to a chair that was filled with dirty clothes. The pins on the backpack clinked together as as it crashed against the back of the chair. Normally Adrian would be careful with the pins as he had slowly collected them over the years from both the various concerts he had been to and from different shops that had been tricky to find. But no he couldn’t care less. No, not when he was going on a date. With you. He plopped down on the unmade bed and stared up at the ceiling. His thoughts were once against filled with only you you you, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He was running on two hours of sleep (stalking both your social media’s and you, often took more time than what he initially expected). His eyelids were heavy and the skin under his eyes were darker than normal, making it seem like he hadn’t slept for years. Sleep called for him and lured him in like sirens. It having the energy to fight it, Adrian’s eyes became blurry and sleep swept over him and pulled it into its embrace.

He dragged his lips up the side of your neck, leaving purple-red bruises in their wake. Your fingers curled in his hair as you carefully gave it a pull. He groaned at the feeling and gave the spot where his lips rested a deep suck bordering on a bite. He parted his lips and pulled away from you slightly to take in the view. You were so beautiful as you laid under him completely bare. Your neck was covered in beautiful reds and purples that reminded him of a floral pattern. Your hair was slightly messy as it was strewn across the pillow like a halo. You were his angel, his god and you were going to grant him salvation and save him from the depths of hell that he was headed towards.

“Fuck… You are so beautiful, [Name]” he muttered as he gazed down at you with lidded eyes filled with pure love. You smiled back at him as you pulled him down in a kiss. You tasted like strawberries and he couldn’t help but devour you.

Adrian pulled from your lips and kissed down from your sternum to your stomach. He watched as your breathing increased and he smiled to himself. His slender hands found your hips and he let them draw circles on your skin as his mouth neared the place that you needed him the most. He parted your legs apart and he sucked in a breath as your cunt was clear in the view. He lowered his head and began his worship.

The sound of his feast melded together with the angelic song that fell from your pretty lips. He groaned against your lips as your scent and taste cast him into a trance. He ate like a starved beast and his fingers were digging into the soft skin of your thighs. You pulled on his midnight black strands and it resulted in him picking up the pace. He plunged his tongue into your cunt and drank up your juices as if it was juice from divine fruits bestowed upon him from the gods themselves. He could tell you were close given the way you tensed up and the way you pressed his face closer to you. You were so sensitive, how cute. He dragged his thumb down your clit and rubbed circles on it. He didn’t use to too much pressure nor was he to light in his hand. He was just right.

A mantra of praise left his lips as he continued to eat you out. His own need for touch was completely forgotten, the only thing on his mind was you.

Your cunt clenched up and your back arched. Your nails dug into his scalp as you came and he nearly came himself at the sight. He lapped at your release as if he was scared to waste any drop.

He crawled back up so his face was right above yours. His shoulder blades were tense as his breathing became frenzied. He needed you. Now. He leaned his weight in his left elbow as he used his other hand to guide his aching cock to your lower lips. He leaned slightly back as he inched it inside slowly but surely. You looked up at him with a lustful expression, your lips raw from his kisses.

“I need you…” your voice breathy. You needn’t to say more as he bottomed in just as the words left your lips.

“I’m going to make you mine. You are going to stay with me forever. I will make you happy” Adrian moaned against your neck as he began to move his hips in a near desperate rhythm. You were so soft, so warm and oh so perfect. Was this heaven?

The sound of a phone ringing snapped Adrian out of his sleep. He groaned as he cursed underneath his breath. How typical… waking him up from such a sweet dream. His eyes widened at the caller ID. You were calling him… Where you going to cancel your date?

“Hi!” you lively voice were as sweet as honey. He could never get sick of it.

“Hey” his voice was still groggy and he coughed into his hand. “What’s up?”

“I’m just calling to let you know something came up” what…? “I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t really make it.”

“You can’t make it? Why?” he meant to be calm, but he couldn’t help the way his tone harshened.

“I totally forgot that me and a friend of mine had plans later. I asked him if we could reschedule, but he was against it. Again I’m so sorry. Can we do it another day? It can be my treat” it didn’t matter that you seemed to be genuinely upset. It didn’t matter at all, not when all he could focus on was that you had said “he”. You were going out with a guy…

Adrian could feel the ground underneath him breaking and something ugly inside him that had been only lurking in the background, started to resurface. He. You had another man in your life. Where you only toying with him? Did you also think he was just a loser? Or had he, whoever he was, forced you to hang out with him?

“Adrian? Are you alright?”

No he wasn’t. He wasn’t alright.

“Yeah… sorry, I’m just a bit tired. Talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay! Bye bye!” with that you hung up the phone.

He felt disgusting. He felt terrible. Though he wasn’t really made at you. You were too sweet to purposely hurt someone. You could never, you were far too innocent, too naïve. That’s why he had to take care of you.

The months of closely watching you had paid off. It didn’t take long before Adrian found the man who claimed to be your friend. He was a tall man with too much spray tan and an expensive polo shirt with a orange stained collar. He was disgusting. So revolting it felt offensive to look at him. Adrian pulled the black face mask up as he made sure to stay out of the man’s view. He were going to gut him like a fish and then leave him to rot somewhere no one would ever find him. There would be absolutely nothing left of him. There would be nothing left of him to take you.

Adrian didn’t bother to fight the vile smile that stretched across his face underneath the mask. He had started to get addicted to the rush he got when tailing behind someone without their knowledge.

The man glanced over his shoulder at the sound of a twig snapping, but only shrugged before continuing his walk towards the liquor store. He had taken a shortcut through the woods. A dumb decision, but Adrian didn’t complain. It only made everything so much easier.

Going through the shadows were as easy as breathing. Adrian had always had an exceptional night vision.

Another snap of a twig and the man stopped in his tracks as he spun around to face the sound. It was clear he was getting scared based off his flared nostrils and heavy breathing. His dark eyes frantically scanned his surroundings. When he didn’t find anything out of the ordinary he turned around to resume his walk.

Faster than lightning Adrian sprung out from the shadows and drove the hunting knife through the man’s chest and into his disgusting heart. The man’s screams were cut short as the knife pulled out and slit his throat causing blood to be sprayed everywhere. It was messy and the smell was absolutely disgusting m but Adrian didn’t care. He watched with a sadistic glee as the man fell to his knees as blood oozed through his mouth and onto the dry forest ground. His eyes landed on Adrian and they widened in horror. Adrian only laughed as he kicked the man in his side.

“I fucking hate you. How dare you touch something that’s mine? You disgusting vermin” he spat through gritted teeth. “You have ruined everything! I was finally getting close to her and then you came and ruined it!” Adrian was shaking with rage. A sickening laughter fell from his lips as he rose the knife high before stabbing it into the man’s side, causing him to topple over onto his back. Adrian lunged onto him and drove the knife as hard as he could into every pic of flesh he could find. The disgusting sound of flesh and bones filled the forest and it was music to his ears. The pale skin on his hands were died a deep shade of scarlet and his hair had gotten sticky with a mixture blood, flesh and brain matter. Time blended together as he continued to stab the piece of shit and before he knew it he didn’t resemble a human being at all, but a pulp of flesh. Adrian was stronger than what he looked like with his lean body and he had managed to totally ruin the man’s ugly head. The forest floor was wet with blood mixed together with that god awful orange spray tan.

He had rid the world of yet another pest. You were safe. You were no longer going to be infected by his impurity.

He would make this a world a better place for you. He would do absolutely anything for you, expect letting you go.

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