Adrian Chase with a girlfriend who matches his freak a little too hard <3
Paring: Adrian chase x reader
Warnings: very toxic relationship dynamics, he’s right where he wants to be.
None of the team has met you much, except Chris who prefers not to stay in your company too long, the reason for which evades both Adebayo and Emilia, since you seem like a very nice, sane girl.
Sometimes after Adrian gets a bit too drunk at bars, you walk in dressed up like a woman who definitely doesn’t belong in a small town in Washington, and way too polite.
So, when Chris insists that you’re absolutely bat shit insane and your behaviour puts Adrian to shame, they can’t believe any of it, brushing it off as him being the usual asshole because his sidekick has a girlfriend and he does not.
All of those are put to rest when Adrian comes into work late, driving a brand new car into the parking lot. When he’s pressed about it, he gives them a little smile, almost as if he’s remembering a fond moment.
“Y/n lit my car on fire, so I had to buy a new one,” he says, his tone is so joyful that they’re a contrast to his words.
“What?” The whole team looks at him, eyes wide and Chris almost screams out an ‘I told you so’.
“Yeah, she saw me talking to a girl and said I was cheating on her, so she lit my car on fire. Isn’t that cool? I would totally do the same, but I’d probably cry first.” He turns to his table, chuckling to himself about his ‘loving girlfriend,’ who is definitely not crazy.
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𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕: Chris brings home the innocent plant woman he found in an abandoned lab in Corto Maltse
𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: Christopher Smith/Peacemaker x fem innocent reader, italics are actions and thoughts
[ 𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 ]
-𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕-
No one told Amanda Waller before during or after Task Force X "disbanded" that Chris had found you in an abandoned lab in Corto Maltese or that one of the reasons Peacemaker killed Rick Flag was in pursuit of keeping you safe. You had powers similar to one well known green Gothamite, the way your skin turned green in the light fascinates him, the way you look at him with stars in your eyes like he's not a fuck up.
Harley had smuggled you away after the whole Starro business and Peacemaker v Bloodsport and Rick Flag business but Chris very secretively tracked you down and picked you up as soon as he was well enough to do so very much to Harley's displeasure but Chris wasn't leaving without you and Harley was still in deep with a lot of the people in Gotham.
After being imprisoned for so long and bouncing around at Harley's you looked at his dump of a trailer like it was a home, even if it definitely needs some major tlc. You love on Eagly like he's the best pet in the world, everything here is perfect in your mind due to being in an abandoned lab for the last eight years.
"Um, yeah. Make yourself at home, Sweetheart." He sets down two duffles, one of his Peacemaker gear and the other of the clothes Harley bought you on a "shopping spree" aka she stole a bunch of shit and gave you whatever she thought would look cute on you. Chris is slowly realizing he has more than just Eagly to take care of and Eagly basically takes care of himself.
He rummages through his dresser, grabbing a towel some boxers and a shirt handing them to you forgetting you have your own but also seeing the very tight clothes Harley "acquired" for you. Chris gestures with his head the direction of the bathroom. "You can shower if you want, just make sure the water runs clear before getting in. I haven't been home in a while or there's bound to be some rust in the pipes."
He smiles a bit to himself as you make your way to his bathroom, you're downright adorable and he finds himself actually caring about something other than fast women and one nighters. He then grabs a garbage bag and starts attempting to clean up his trailer, cleaning up the trash littered around the place from the party he had pre getting arrested.
It's been a few days and you've settled in really well, he took the couch and you took the bed but every night without fail you crawl in with him. At first, he didn't know how to feel about it but learned quickly how much better you both sleep together. He's like a big warm body cuddly bear that chased every bit of your worry away with his hands gently running through your hair and along your back to keep your nightmares away.
Today, Chris is gone with Vig for a few hours, you're bored out of your mind, the tv doesn't look interesting and so you started looking around finding a trunk under his bed of magazines of naked women, some old VHS tape things, and a weird looking flashlight thing, pulling them out curiously flipping through the pages, a few of them stuck together.
"I'm back home, Sweetpea. I brought us some different foods for you to try." Chris shouts from the other room, of course not knowing you shouldn't be looking at the items you've found you leave them on the bed playing with the little flashlight thingy you found.
Chris rounds the corner of his bedroom, shocked by what he finds but the confused look on your face says it all. You have no idea what you're looking at. "Look how pretty they all are." You say still holding the weird item you found which makes his face go ashy and pale, he bolts over to you with a worried and concerned expression.
"Nononononono. No!" He grabs your wrist and swiftly guides you to the bathroom, taking your much smaller hands in his and starts lathering them up with soap and water.
"Are you mad at me? You seem mad." You ask as he makes sure to very thoroughly and completely wash your hands, getting every nook and cranny even under your nails.
"What? No. No, I'm not mad, Angel. I just should've told you not to get into that, I really need to throw all that stuff away anyways." He genuinely had forgotten about it, all that stuff was from before he got with you. Chris then rinses your hands gentler than he was before as he realizes how frantic he was acting must've come off as anger to you.
"Dry your hands, okay? I got us dinner." He guides you over to the towel rack, making sure to keep his place clean now that you're here. Before he didn't care about keeping the place neat or leaving the seat up or keeping fresh towels but after the first time you fell in, he double and triple checks that the seats down, with you it's different he actually cares about you.
Another incident happened a week later when he found you digging in the yard with Eagly behind his trailer, Eagly was burying something dead, you? You're tracking in mud and using the very few dishes from his kitchen as flower pots.
"Hey, wipe your feet! Were you born in a-" He stops himself realizing you were essentially abandoned in that lab to starve to death so he softens his voice. "Just make sure you don't bring dirt in."
"You're a bad influence on her, Eagly. Bad bird." He wipes his hands over his face and guides you inside the bathroom to shower. Handing you yet again one of his shirts cause a. Harley didn't get you anything that wasn't skin tight, b. You insist on smelling like him literally using your powers to make the smell of his cologne permeate from you, a way of self soothing and c. He thinks you look adorable in his clothes.
"Chris?" You ask with a soft tone in your voice as you strip out of your clothes putting them in the new hamper he bought a few days ago, your skin being a beautiful green everywhere the sun had hit it.
"What, Sweetpea?" He asks as he turns on the water the correct temperature for you, making sure it's not too hot or not too cold; not that you minded either way due to your chlorokinesis you didn't mind too much if it was too cold but Chris has learned how you tend to like warmer showers.
"Adrian said I'm your girlfriend. Is that true?" You ask as you step into the shower wetting your hair and body before washing with his bodywash, something only slightly feminine but named something slightly masculine to market it to men like Black Vanilla or Arctic Rose or something, the loofah sudsing up in your hands making the soap slide down your forearms. He clears his throat thinking about his answer for a few minutes.
"If you want it to be, yeah. I don't mind. I really like having you around here, you and your plants make the place more lively, you make it feel like home. We'll take it however slow you need, okay?" Chris normally wouldn't be the type for slow but this with you? It's real and he'd do anything to make sure you feel safe, never alone and never abandoned like that. You'd already started looking a lot healthier than when he found you, a lot more full of life. Chris leaves the bathroom to give you some space, taking the laundry basket with him so he can wash your dirt filled laundry.
A while later you come out in your thong and one of his shirts, of course Harley gave you thongs she said it was to "boost your confidence" and "let the sun in." He doesn't mind really, he thought he'd have a hard time not staring but as his love and understanding got deeper and he realized how comfortable you must have to be to be around him like that. He's changing for the better and you're the reason why and you don't even know it. Part of him thinks he doesn't deserve it but the other part realizes he doesn't trust you with almost anyone else.
Summary: You join your cousin Christopher Smith’s team and quickly meet Adrian Chase, who takes an intense interest in you. As you train and go on missions, he becomes oddly protective and always sticks by your side. After a mission goes wrong and he saves you, your bond deepens—turning into a slow-burn connection where his chaotic behavior hides genuine care, and you both start to matter to each other.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
You knew working with your cousin would be complicated.
But standing in the briefing room, arms crossed while Christopher Smith argued with someone about helmet choices, you realized something important:
Complicated was an understatement.
“This one can see through walls,” Chris insisted, holding up a chrome helmet like it was sacred.
“That’s a privacy violation,” someone muttered.
“It’s a tactical advantage,” Chris shot back.
“And this is why I don’t trust you with technology,” another voice added.
You stayed quiet, taking it all in.
New team. New rules. New… whatever this was.
“Hey.”
You turned—and there he was again.
Adrian Chase leaned casually against the wall, already watching you like he’d been tracking your every move since you walked in.
“You look overwhelmed,” he said.
“I am overwhelmed.”
“Nice. That means you’re paying attention.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Do you ever say normal things?”
“No.”
“Cool.”
He smiled like that answer pleased him.
The next few days were… chaotic.
Training sessions turned into arguments. Briefings turned into debates. Missions—well, missions were somehow the most organized part of all of it.
And through all of it, Adrian was always there.
Too close. Too observant. Too interested.
“You hold your breath when you shoot,” he pointed out one afternoon at the range.
You lowered the gun. “Isn’t that… normal?”
“Yeah, but you overdo it.” He stepped behind you before you could react. “You tense up right here—”
His hand hovered near your shoulder—not touching, just close enough that you felt it.
“—and it throws your aim off after the first shot.”
Your heart skipped. Not from nerves. Definitely not.
“…You watch people a lot, don’t you?” you asked.
“All the time.”
“That’s kinda creepy.”
“I know.”
There was no apology in his voice.
You adjusted your stance, trying to ignore how aware you were of him now. “So what, I just… relax?”
“Yeah.” A pause. “Or don’t. Stress makes things interesting.”
You glanced back at him. “You’re terrible at coaching.”
“I’m great at results.”
You fired again.
This time, the shot landed closer to center.
“…Okay, that was better,” you admitted.
“I know.” He sounded way too satisfied about it.
It happens slowly after that.
You start looking for him.
At first, it’s just during training—checking if he’s watching, waiting for his commentary.
Then it’s during briefings.
Then it’s after missions.
Until one day, you realize he’s become your constant in all the chaos.
And that realization should probably worry you.
It doesn’t.
The mission that changes things starts like any other.
Quick briefing. Infiltration. Minimal noise.
“Minimal noise,” Chris repeats, pointing at Adrian.
“I’m always quiet,” Adrian says.
You snort.
Chris looks at you. “Don’t encourage him.”
“I’m not—”
“You totally are,” Adrian cuts in, grinning.
Somewhere along the mission, everything goes wrong.
It’s not one big mistake—it’s a series of small ones stacking up until suddenly alarms are blaring and the “quiet infiltration” turns into a full-blown firefight.
You get separated.
One second you’re with the team.
The next—you’re alone.
Your breathing picks up as you move through the corridor, every sound too loud, every shadow suspicious.
“Okay,” you whisper to yourself. “You’re fine. This is fine.”
It’s not fine.
Footsteps echo somewhere behind you.
You turn—
—and freeze.
Three of them.
Armed.
Way too close.
You raise your weapon, but your grip tightens too much—just like Adrian said—and your first shot goes wide.
“Great,” you mutter.
They advance.
You back up, heart hammering—
And then—
A blur of movement.
A gunshot.
Another.
And suddenly they’re down.
You blink.
Adrian stands there, breathing steady, like this was nothing more than routine.
“You left,” he says.
You stare at him. “I got lost.”
“That’s different.” He steps closer, scanning you quickly. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you exhale. “I think so.”
His gaze lingers a second longer than necessary.
Then he nods. “Good.”
You hesitate. “…You came after me?”
“Obviously.”
“Why?”
He looks at you like that’s the dumbest question you’ve ever asked.
“Because you’re mine to worry about.”
Your heart stutters.
“…That’s a weird way to phrase that.”
“I know.” A beat. “But it’s accurate.”
Before you can respond, distant shouting echoes through the building.
Adrian glances toward the sound, then back at you.
“Stay with me this time,” he says.
It’s not a suggestion.
You nod anyway.
After the mission, everything feels… different.
You’re sitting on the edge of a table at the base, replaying it all in your head, when Adrian walks in.
No helmet. No jokes—at least, not immediately.
“You hesitated,” he says.
You sigh. “Yeah. I noticed.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I know.”
Silence stretches between you.
Then—
“I was scared,” you admit quietly.
He steps closer.
“That’s not the problem,” he says.
You look up. “It’s not?”
“No.” His voice is steady. Certain. “Freezing is the problem. Fear just tells you it matters.”
You blink, caught off guard by the seriousness in his tone.
“You came anyway,” you say. “Even though it was dangerous.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He studies you for a moment.
Longer than usual.
“Because if something happened to you…” he starts, then stops.
That’s new.
You wait.
He exhales.
“…I wouldn’t like that.”
You almost laugh—but something about the way he says it stops you.
“High praise,” you tease softly.
“I don’t do normal praise.”
“I’ve noticed.”
A small smile flickers across his face.
Then, quieter—
“I meant what I said earlier.”
“About me being yours to worry about?”
“Yeah.”
You hold his gaze.
“…And what does that make you?”
He doesn’t hesitate this time.
“Yours.”
Your breath catches.
Of course he says it like that. Simple. Direct. Like it’s obvious.
Whether a request is going to be a oneshot or a headcanon post is entirely up to my discretion, unfortunately. I have a bad habit of getting overwhelmed easily, especially when doing requests, so I thought this would be the best way to do this. Most requests will likely be headcanons, but if I really get inspired by one, I’ll write a oneshot!
I will happily do angst, hurt/comfort, and whump requests. Fluff, too, of course, but that’s usually a given. Along with this, I write only gender neutral, trans male, or nonbinary reader, although if you do not specify a gender I will default to neutral, AFAB with transmasculine terminology if it’s smut. I don’t mind doing requests revolving around a “described” Y/N or a Y/N with specific personality traits or characteristics. Character dynamics are my bread and butter. I think it’d be fun! I also love crossovers and aus, I implore you to send asks about those!
Please note: I don’t often take requests and this is entirely for fun, so if I don’t answer your request, it’s nothing personal! I reserve the right to not do a specific request if I don’t vibe with it.
I won’t do scat, incest or fauxcest, pregnancy, omegaverse, age play, underage, extreme descriptions of vomit, and canon x canon.
Even if a character is not listed, you’re welcome to ask! I just can’t guarantee I’ll write it, or get to it quickly :3 I need to do research! There are also some characters on this list that I want, and I am very excited to write for, although I’m nervous to do so. It will take me a little longer to get to those requests!
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Kinda fiending for your opinion on how Adrian Chase would act if he had a crush on a coworker
I LOVE THIS TROPE 😛
I feel like if he had a crush on someone who’s also a bus-boy he’d genuinely be such a weird little freak 😭 He’d be constantly trying to make himself seem WAAAYYY smarter than he actually is, he’d say shit like “did you know cats don’t have nine lives they have eight.” And you’d just stare at him before googling it and showing him the result and he’d be SO upset.
However if he had a crush on one of his teammates he’d try and act super normal and nonchalant but keeps fucking it up. He’ll keep tripping over his own feet and he’ll stutter when he tries to make a joke near you and he’s just soooo dumb 😛
Summary: Chris takes Adrian to an underground indie-rock gig where he meets you.
Tags/warnings: x alternative!female reader, swearing, alcohol consumption
Notes: Hope you like this anon! I had a great time writing it!
Adrian was never one for going to gigs, not like this -no designated seats, no space- but he’d been asked by Chris.
He couldn’t let his best friend down.
Stepping carefully down the stairs, avoiding the sticky puddles of alcohol spilt on the floor, he made his way into the main room, Chris at his side.
Adrian’s nose scrunched up, the place reeked of sweat, beer and the sickly sweet smell of someone’s candy floss flavored vape- something that they should have not been doing in an enclosed area.
He huffed at the thought, if he came across them he’d give them serious stink eye and a lecture to boot if that wasn’t enough.
“You good, bro?” Chris asked.
Adrian swallowed thickly, people brushed past him leaving light touches that made his skin crawl, even through the sleeves of his dark blue jacket.
“Hmm- yeah, yup, all good.” he replied, monotone, blank.
“Want me to get you a beer to loosen up?” Chris suggested, unconvinced, but Adrian couldn’t hear a word, eyes unfocused, the low bass and harsh drums pulsing in his ears.
Everything was a blur, moving bodies, flickering bright lights, words on the poster-clad wall muddled -something like a haze, everything too much and not enough at the same time.
Then he saw you… and he was immediately absolutely fucked.
You’d made your own small space in the corner of the crowd, dancing with reckless abandon, in your own world. Keeping the beat, you stomped around in your cobweb patterned boots, the spider charms on the zippers flinging from side to side. Your long sleeves fluttered as you flailed your arms up and down to the rhythm.
Adrian was entranced.
He didn’t realize had been walking until he was stood right beside you, blinking out of his daze.
His breath hitched, he darted his eyes back behind him, searching for Chris.
But Chris was nowhere to be seen, lost in the sea of people.
Fuck.
Adrian’s mouth moved before he could think better of it, “Hi.”
Your head snapped towards the voice, somehow cutting through the boom of sound from the band, “Hi?” you replied.
Your eyes met with the man, his mouth gaping, he looked unsure but sweet, with messy curls and glasses askew. He was cute.
“Sick dance moves!” he said, hands gesturing towards you, a little awkward, smiling wide, he spoke earnestly.
At that, your eyes widened, it wasn’t atypical for someone to comment on your dancing whilst you were out but someone genuinely making a compliment- that was.
You smiled back, “Thanks.”
“I’m Adrian.” he pointed towards his chest, introducing himself, confidence growing. You introduced yourself similarly. He tested your name on his lips, whispering.
“Also sick shoes, actually everything about your outfit is super sick- totally ghoulish.” he gushed, rocking back and forth on his feet.
Your brow quirked, “Ghoulish?”
That was a new one.
“In a good way.” he added.
You hummed and nodded your head upwards, “Well, I like your glasses.”
“You do?” his head tilted in thought, then he beamed, smile enveloping his whole face, somehow wider than before, “Killer.”
“I fucking love spiders!” he enthused.
“Me too.”
“And owls,” he added, “and crows and manta rays, but spiders are my favorite.”
You giggled.
“Could I- maybe dance with you?” he asked, “Teach me some of your moves?”
“Yeah.” you nudged your arm, urging him to move closer.
He inched towards you but opted to keep a respectful distance, “Coolio.”
“We can trade,” you suggested, “show me yours.”
He pumped his fist and started to dance, hips swaying, arms close beside droning in circles. He looked so carefree, he was like you -apathetic towards the perception of others, letting loose and wild.
And you knew, this man was going to absolutely wreck you.
You copied his movements, laughing loud.
He showered you with praise, clapping and joining you, laughing, “You’re a natural!”
Eyes shining, he motioned you to take the lead, the song changed, crowd cheering at the band, but it felt like they were cheering just for you, like Adrian was.
You threw your arms in the air, lifting your knees up and down, head banging. Adrian softened watching you, he wanted to drown in this feeling, in this moment.
Then, you looked at him, expectantly, biting your lip.
He repeated your dance, causing his glasses to fly off .
“Shit.” he exclaimed.
Your laughter grew as you reached down and grabbed the pair, dusting them off before placing them back on Adrian’s head.
He grinned, “Thank you!”
The two of you kept at it for awhile, swapping moves, talking, gradually growing closer.
Finally out of breath, you turned to each other heaving, Adrian looked a mess, curls now damp sticking to his forehead and you were sure you didn’t look much better. Adrian thought you looked beautiful.
You flushed, noticing just how close you’d grown, mouths practically touching and then…
“Dude! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
Chris broke the trance you were under, clutching two drinks in his hands, one nearly empty.
Adrian cursed.
“I did get you a drink earlier, but I kinda drank that one so I got you a new one.” Chris said, looking down, trying not to spill Adrian’s frankly overfilled beer.
He’d spotted Adrian eventually from afar, not realizing his friend had company, he looked up and- “Shit, sorry bro!”
He howled as the two of you stepped away from each other, “Didn’t mean to cock-block ya.”
Huffing, Adrian took his drink and sipped, hoping it would cool his hot cheeks. You did the same, grabbing the water bottle in your purse.
Chris winked and walked back, smirking as he pointed towards Adrian then to you, thankfully you weren’t looking as he made obnoxious kissy faces before finally turning away.
“That was my best friend, Chris.”
You smiled, putting your drink away, “He seems nice.”
“Yeah.”
You kept chatting for another hour or so, taking a seat on one of the scarce plush leather benches. Before you knew it, the band was packing up and it was 2am, you smiled sadly.
“Will I see you again?” Adrian asked, a little frantic, eyes flitting towards the mass of people filtering out the venue.
You reached into your bag, taking out your phone, typing and then passed it to him, “Definitely.”
Adrian looked down.
New Contact
Adrian (cute glasses)🕷️🩵
“Oh- you, fuck yes! Hold on.” His tongue poked out in concentration as he tapped his number in.
Handing your phone back, you checked on your Uber.
‘arriving in one minute’
You sighed, turning the screen to Adrian. He took your hand tight and ushered you up the stairs and outside, carefully avoiding the remainder of the crowd.
The cold night air was biting, causing you to shiver, a stark contrast to the warmth inside.
You looked up, smiling, “Night, Adrian.”
Your cab had shown up.
‘arrived.’
“Night.” he said gently.
Nodding your head decidedly, you reached up, cupping his jaw and kissing his cheek before you lost the courage.
You swiftly turned to the cab, “Text me when you’re home safe!” he shouted causing you to turn back, laugh and nod.
He waved rapidly, enthusiastically, as you were driven away.
Chris clapped a hand on his back, appearing from the shadows, “Way to go thimble!”
He landed his hand on Adrian’s shoulder and squeezed tight, smiling wide.
Adrian smiled to himself as their own cab approached.
“Thanks.” he mumbled.
The Uber back was quiet for once. There were no rants about animals or tv shows that Chris would groan at clutching at his head claiming a hangover despite drinking only an hour prior, or babbles about any borderline criminal acts committed by patrons that he had prevented Adrian from intervening (and therefore committing a definite crime himself).
Instead, they were just left with the soft pattering of rain starting on the windows and the screeching of the cab’s tires.
And honestly, Chris was a little concerned by it, but that concern was outweighed by the relief of the lack of noise on his ringing ears.
And Adrian?
…Adrian was left feeling absolutely devastated.
Suddenly he was sick to his stomach, and suddenly he couldn’t be happier about it.
