Absolute Superman #12

Guys can you be honest with me. Is me posting about Checkmate just the 2026 equivalent of Avengers Tower fics,,,,

Fuck it, let’s just go all the way. Adrian hides in the vents

🌠∆ New Roleplay master list/ad! ∆🌠

Hey ya’ll! Imma try to keep these short and sweet, if you have any questions don’t be afraid to ask!

•°Rules°•

[1]- must be 18+, I’m 23 myself and refuse to roleplay with anyone under 18.

[2]- please be at least semi literate with replies; I can range anywhere from semi to full novella if I’m really into it. Absolutely no one liners.

[3]- I don’t rp smut, it’s just not my cup of tea. Mentions of sex, making out, touchy feely stuff and jokes are totally fine; I just prefer a fade to black for the scenes themselves.

[4]- I roleplay oc x cc, and will happily double up! If you don’t have an oc or don’t wish to use one that’s fine too, just don’t come to me expecting me to only play canon characters.

[5]- Please be patient, I have a full time job and mental health stuff to work with so I can take a bit to reply. I’ll generally say something if I’m gone longer than a week. Chatting OOC is totally fine!

[6]-

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

!!Fandoms!!

[1]-Transformers, continuities listed in order of most wanted

-Beastwars

-Bayverse

-Animated

-One

-Prime

-G1

-IDW

[2]- Peacemaker; new to this one but would love to RP it

Anyway that’s all! Don’t be afraid to shoot me a dm, or like/comment on this post and I’ll get back to you asap :3

Texts from Rip, 10/?

Happy Monday

So so so you guys!

Mamas got a night to herself and I basically need telling what to watch

Here’s my options k? K

And it’ll all be the first time seeing them aswel so don’t judge meeeeeee

im so fucking sick and all ive been doing is watching peacemaker and it really has just cemented my knowledge that its actually the most comforting show of all time for me. like everything about it feels welcoming. its funny and relatable (thanks harcourt) and like idk man maybe its weird to be all sappy over a superhero show but im just so happy it exists cause its actually the only thing keeping me going right now.

Big fan of when the 11th street kids are killing Keith, and Chris cries out and crawls over to him on his hands and knees. Let’s all have a moment of appreciation for characters stuck at developmental ages due to trauma 🔥🔥🔥💪💪

In a couple of days I’ll have my new tablet for drawing and I’ll be back to normal with Ask Blogs, comics, commissions and drawings in general!!

Cigarette

The need cannot grow, if it hasn’t already been planted.

·sex pollen

·chris/reader

Author’s Note: I’ve combined the first two chapters ✌🏻🦅🦋

Tags: No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert, Crack Treated Seriously, Sex Pollen, Mildly Dubious Consent, Verbal Consent, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dry Humping, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Blow Jobs, First Time, Bruises, Sexual Overstimulation, Naked Female Clothed Male, Light Dom/sub, Praise Kink, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Soft Christopher Smith | Peacemaker, Murn feels bad lmao, the night after, Gentle Sex, Intercrural Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Confessions

I’m yours, yes

I wanna be your cigarette, yes

And of course, of course, yes

I’ll stay forever on your lips, yes

I’m yours, hell yes

✿

“Get in and get out,” Murn’s voice crackles over your comm.

Easy.

A clean job - or it would have been if Chris had propped open goddamned door like you’d asked him to.

“Fuck -” Chris grunts, slamming his body against the metal door, “no, it’s definitely locked.”

“No shit,” you hiss, as your comm buzzes back to life.

“What do you mean it’s locked?”

“The goddamned door -”

“It must have an automatic locking mechanism -”

“Where are you?”

“A fucking greenhouse?”

“Grow op?” Chris offers helpfully and you slap his hand away from your comm.

“Wait, did you say a greenhouse?” Murn demands.

“Yep,” you nod, tugging at the neck of your shirt.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Murn curses, “I need you to answer me very carefully. What kind of plants are they growing?”

“There’s definitely cannabis,” Chris nods, fingering the leaves of an especially large cannabis plant.

“Is it just cannabis?”

Fear cuts through your chest as you glance towards a row of blue flowers - that appear to be glittering in the dim light. “They’re growing flowers?” You jump as the sound of something being thrown and shattering blares over your comms.

“You need to get out of there!”

“That’s a negative,” Chris replies, “the door is definitely reinforced -”

“Murn,” your voice pitches up into a whine, “what’s wrong?” Realization hits you and you grab Chris’s arm. “Is this a fucking butterfly nursery?”

“No - not exactly.”

“Come again?” Chris’s brow furrows.

“What colour are the flowers?”

“Um … blue?”

“You don’t sound sure -”

“Blue,” Chris interrupts, “they’re fucking blue.”

“They’re sparkly,” you murmur, reaching down to brush your fingers along the petals.

“Whatever you do, do not touch them!”

Shit.

Chris shoots you a wide eyed, frantic look.

Shit!

“You kind of buried the lead there, boss,” Chris murmurs.

“Oh Christ!” Harcourt shouts over the line, “please tell me you didn’t touch the fucking flowers!”

“Well, I didn’t touch them!”

The line goes berserk with shouts, as you bite your lip.

“Fuck,” Chris mutters, “are you okay?”

“I - yeah - I think so,” you swallow, before tapping on your comm. “Are the flowers toxic?”

“No,” Murn replies a moment later, “but they are a strong aphrodisiac for my people -”

“Oh god,” you mewl, clapping your hands to your mouth.

“Shit,” Chris shoots you a look, before turning to speak into his comm. “Is this a fuck or die situation?”

“It isn’t a fuck or die situation,” you reply via your own comm.

“I wouldn’t have used such vulgar terms, but exposure to the flowers does stimulate intense sexual arousal - but only to individuals who touch, or inhale the pollen.”

Chris is staring at you, a look of horror on his face that might have been comical if he wasn’t gesturing to his mouth and god fucking damn it!

You swipe your arm across your mouth, feeling something too hot and pulsing to be fear settle in your gut.

“What happens if you eat it?”

“Oh, what the fuck?”

“I didn’t eat it! It just got onto my face -”

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” Murn exclaims with John’s accompanying laughter. “Is there anything around that you can clean your hands with?”

You shake your head, watching Chris wet his lips and something inside of you clenches.

“I - is - do we just ride it out?” Chris wonders, wincing at his own choice of words.

“I suppose you could, but it will be incredibly painful if the need isn’t satiated.”

You groan, clenching your thighs to keep from grinding down onto nothing.

“Okay,” Chris nods, “you can just rub one out and we’re golden -”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. The plants purpose to promote procreation - seminal fluid is required to -”

“Oh god.”

“Fuck no!” Chris shouts, stumbling back, and hurt must darken your features because Chris holds up a hand, “no, that’s not - you’re a fox, and I absolutely would hit it, but you can’t exactly consent right now -”

“I don’t know what other choice we have,” you plead, rocking forward so the seam of your pants rubs against your clit.

“There’s always another choice!”

“Like what?!”

“I don’t fucking know!”

Your laugh is hollow and needy. Murn clearing his throat, brings you both back to your comms. “If it helps … the need cannot grow, if it hasn’t already been planted.”

You blink, colour flushing your face, so it matches the egregious shade of his uniform shirt.

“Uh, actually that is pretty helpful dude,” Chris blurts, to ringing silence across the comms.

“What!?”

Chris quirks his head, “I told you,” he shrugs.

“So knowing I’m attracted to you … helps?”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking hurt.” He sets down his gun, before resolutely walking over to the bed of blue blooms.

“No - Chris - don’t!” You cry, helplessly watching him swipe two fingers along the petals before sticking them into his mouth.

“What’s going on?” Harcourt demands and Chris looks at you and winks.

“I just leveled the fucking playing field.”

✿

“So,” Chris’s voice booms across the small room, to where you’re currently sitting, beside a cannabis planter, across from him. “How long did it take to start … Feeling something?”

“Right away,” you reply, flexing your hands against your thighs.

“Okay cool,” he swallows, shifting, and your eyes drop between his legs, where he’s already hard and straining against his ridiculous pants, and you let out a needy little whimper as wetness soaks through your panties - the floor under your ass is already soaked, and you clench your thighs as Chris’s eyes snap to yours.

“Normally,” he murmurs and Christ - was his voice always that deep? “I’d buy you a drink first, but, uh …” his eyes track the slow movement of your hips as you rock forward - the friction of the concrete is a tease against your dripping pussy. “… extenuating circumstances and all.” He clears his throat, as he slips to his knees so he can crawl over to you. “Are you normally this fucking wet?”

“Normally I’m not soaked just looking at you,” you admit, and his eyes crinkle.

“But sometimes I make you wet.”

Your eyes roll back in your head - but not in the annoyed way you’d meant - you’d managed to rock yourself right into an orgasm and you bite back a cry as your pussy clenches around nothing, and it’s cruel in the way that it only makes the heat between your legs burn hotter.

“Holy fuck - did you just - ?”

“Yes,” you whine, “Chris - I - please -”

“What do you need?”

“You,” you pant, pushing yourself up and into his arms, “inside of me. Now.”

“God -” he grunts as you brace your hands against his shoulders so you can slip to the left a bit and - “F-fuck,” you moan as his thigh slips between your legs and you grind your hips, “yes!” The friction punches the word from your mouth.

“You like that?” Chris mutters, pushing your braid over your shoulder so he can latch his mouth onto the slope of your neck, and you gasp, hips stuttering. “C'mon,” he urges you, hands spanning across your back, “take what you need.”

You rock forward - and the drag of his thigh against your clit makes you arch up and into his touch, “touch me -” you reach for his hand, pulling his hand to your chest.

“I’m trying,” he grunts, fumbling for your zipper as you continue rutting against him, “why are you wearing so many fucking layers?”

“It’s - ah - cold outside -”

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls, finally getting your jacket off so he can palm your breasts - and you gasp as his grips the front of your shirt and yanks - “sorry,” his brow furrows as buttons rain down across the floor.

“It’s okay - oh -!” You gasp as he closes his mouth around your breast, tongue lapping against your clothed nipple as he shifts back. “Does this open from the back?”

You keen as he shifts you out of his lap, and you could wrap your hands around his stupidly thick neck - and his face brightens as he undoes your bra, letting it slip down your arms so he can finally get his hands on you.

The warmth of his hands against your skin shoots straight between your legs, and wetness gushes between your legs as you come with a shuttering cry.

“I barely fucking touched you.”

“I - I know -” you reach between you to palm Chris through his pants, pussy clenching as he ruts into your hand. “Will you please just fuck me?”

“Yes -” Chris nods, and you scoot back, to get your pants undone. “But I’m not fucking you on the floor.”

Gasping you clumsily get to your feet, barely managing to get your pants pushed over your hips when Chris is on you - mouth bruising as he slides his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your moan as he pushes his hand between your legs - to sink two fingers inside of you.

“Oh - fuck!” You cry against his mouth, his fingers are thick and the stretch is just on the right side of painful as he begins scissoring his fingers - and you’re cumming again with a mewling cry as your pussy pulses around his fingers.

“Are you normally this fucking sensitive?” Chris grunts, dragging his mouth from your lips to trail his lips along your jaw and down your neck, nipping against the sensitive skin below your ear and you’re clinging to him as he sucks a love bite against the slope of your shoulder.

You want him to mark you - to let everyone know exactly what the two of you got up to in this muggy, cloying room in the midst of trying to save the motherfucking world.

You keen when he pulls his hand from between your legs, tears blurring your eyes as he spins you around, so your hips cut into the edge of the planter and you hastily lose your shoes so he can get your pants off.

His hand is a white hot brand against your back as he shoves you forward, so your hands splay against the damp dirt - and the scent of limonene and linalool flood your senses - and Chris uses his knee to nudge your legs apart and you suck in a sharp breath as Chris slips his cock between your legs - “you’re doing so fucking good -” he reaches down to hitch your leg up over the corner of the planter and the edge digging into your inner thigh shoots straight to your core and you cant your hips.

“Ngh -” you cry as he slides his cock against your slick folds, “please - Chris -” eyes widening as he shifts the angle, pushing into you with one sharp thrust - and you fist your fingers into the dirt, momentarily forgetting how to breath as he stills behind you.

“Fuck,” Chris pants, hands gripping your hips so you don’t slip from your perch. “You’re so fucking tight -”

You whimper, clenching around him, and you roll your hips, encouraging him to finally fucking move before the fire burning under your skin engulfs you and you heave a sob as Chris pulls back, fingers gripping your thigh as he rolls his hips - slowly working you open.

“Harder -” you beg, planting your hands against the dirt to grind your hips with every shallow thrust.

“I - shit -” he shudders, before snapping his hips, and it’s frenzied and desperate and so fucking good that you’re barely able to cry out before your orgasm rips through you.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum -” he pants, and your back arches as his cock twitches inside of you and you feel the hot rushing pulse of his cum as he empties himself inside of you.

It takes a moment before you come back to yourself, and while the fire in your veins has dampened, Chris is still, inexplicably hard inside of you.

“So good,” he murmurs, breath hot against your neck, “you’re so fucking sexy taking my cock like that.”

You shift your hips, wincing as the wood cuts into your skin, and Chris stills.

“Oh shit, are you okay?”

“I think so?” You murmur, wincing as he lets go of your leg and you’re thankful that his hips are still pinning you against the planter because you don’t trust your legs to stand.

You manage a shaky breath, before turning to look at him, “d'you think you could fuck me on the floor this time?”

“I - I can’t -”

You reach out a shaking hand to touch his face and his eyes drift closed at your touch. “I’m literally begging you.” He huffs a laugh.

“Okay,” he nods, “but not on the fucking concrete,” and your brow furrows. “Here,” he carefully pulls out and you whimper, gripping his face, trying to pull him closer. “Shhhh, I know,” he soothes.

You watch him carefully sit down - eyes dropping to his cock that curves up against his stomach - flushed and weeping. He holds out his hands, and you let go of the planter, stumbling forward before dropping heavily onto your knees.

You push your hair over your shoulder before crawling the few feet to where he’s sitting, reaching out to wrap your hand around his cock - your battered knees protest as you lean forward, not breaking eye contact as you pump your hand, feeling pre-cum spurt over your fingers as you continue working your wrist.

You’ve wondered what it would be like - him laid out like this, the few times you’d allowed yourself to think of him as you’d touched yourself. “This is so much better than anything I’ve ever fantasized about,” you blurt out and Chris reels back like you hit him.

“Y-you’ve thought about this?” He wonders, and you nod, wetting your lips, before leaning down to lick the underside of his dick and his hand falls to your head, and you hum a little laugh as your lips part around his cock.

“Fuck -” he groans - drawing out the syllable and normally you’d take your time but that burning ache is back between your thighs, heightened when Chris grabs your breast, breath coming in stuttering moans as you begin bobbing your head. Normally you don’t like a guy holding your head but each tug of his fingers against your scalp makes your clit pulse and you pull back with a wet smack, spitting onto his cock as you look up at him.

“Fuck my face,” you plead, yanking the tie from the end of your hair, before leaning down to run your tongue along the length of his shaft before taking him back into your warm, wet mouth.

Chris’s fingers flex in your hair and you loosen your jaw as Chris tentatively thrusts into your mouth, and you both moan as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you swallow - feeling your throat tighten against his cock as he curses and the next time he ruts up into your mouth, tears prick your eyes as you choke, tightening your grip on the base of his cock before he can pull out.

You mewl as he bucks into your mouth, clenching your thighs as pre-cum paints the back of your throat and you can tell he’s close by the frantic jerk of his hips.

“Shit - I’m gonna cum -” he fists his hands into your hair, and you loosen your throat as his orgasm wracks through him, humming as his hot cum spills into your mouth and you cry out as Chris tightens his fingers in your hair while his free hand strokes between your breasts.

“God - your mouth,” he pants, and you glance up at him - he’s completely wrecked, hair loose and falling into his face, pupils blown so wide, they’re nearly drowning his irises, and you bite your lip, as you climb into his lap.

“Are you good?” You wonder linking your arms around his neck.

Chris’s laugh is incredulous, “I feel like I should be asking you that.”

Truthfully, whatever you’d inhaled dampened the pain, and you reach up to trail your fingers along his jaw. “I want to come on your cock again,” you breath, reaching down between you, to line him up with your entrance - not caring at all that you knew once the pollen wore off you’d be feeling this for days.

“Yes - fuck -” Chris throws his head back as you sink down onto him and your mouth falls open - you’d thought you’d felt full before but this? You brace your hands on his shoulders, rolling your hips, whimpering at the feel of his cock dragging against your inner walls and you let out a shattered breath.

“Touch me,” you grit out, moaning as Chris’s hands slide over your hips to grab your ass, and the sound of your bodies joining in the small room is obscene and you let your head fall back as your hips rock against his and the steady stream of praise falling from Chris’s lips drags you closer to the edge. “Oh fuck - I’m gonna cum again -” you keen, as your thighs start shaking.

“Come for me,” Chris pants against your shoulder and this time when you come you’re vision goes white as your pussy clenches around his cock, and you feel the ragged moan that tears from his lungs as he follows after you - continuing to pump into you until finally you smack his shoulder - literally tapping out.

You wince, as he pulls out, tucking his softening cock back into his pants so he can lean down to reach for his comm - and you go down with him, collapsing against his chest as his comm crackles to life.

“Hey,” he mutters.

“Are you guys okay?” Ads wonders gently.

“Affirmative.”

“Well, we’re waiting out back. Just, uh, take your time -”

“And don’t fucking touch anything else on the way out!” Emilia shouts, and warmth flushes up your neck.

Chris doesn’t move for a minute, before carefully pushing your hair back from your face. “You good?” You take a breath, holding a sideways thumbs up and he laughs.

“I’m gonna sit up,” he warns and you roll over - slipping onto the cold concrete floor. “No - what the fuck -?”

“It’s nice,” you murmur, pressing your cheek to the floor.

“Jesus, shit,” Chris doesn’t move for a second and you hold up a hand.

“I’m okay, Chris. Can you just get my clothes?”

“Yeah, yes, I can definitely do that.”

You watch as he gets to his feet to retrieve your pants and you’re ruined shirt. “I, uh, might have ripped your underwear?”

You breathe a laugh, “it’s okay - I don’t think I want to - oh,” you murmur as Chris crouches at your feet, helping you pull on your pants.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and you glance down, seeing the marks against your hips that are already blooming purple.

“I - it’s okay,” you assure him, as you push yourself up, so you can pull your pants the rest of the way on. “It didn’t hurt.” You take your bra with trembling hands, thankful when he leans behind your back to get the clasp closed.

You glance at him, he’s sitting so close that if you tilted your chin up you could kiss him, but you take your shirt from him instead, tying it loosely around your waist - thankful that your jacket is in one piece, and it takes a few tries to get it zipped up.

“Can you stand up?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, and Chris quickly gets onto one knee so he can pick you up, grabbing his gun before stopping in front of the door.

It opens on the first try, and you tuck your face against his chest as he peers into the empty hallway.

The trip back to the van is a blur, and you’re definitely crying when John opens the back door to help you both inside.

“Shit,” John mutters, and you don’t even want to know the state of your hair as Chris carefully bundles you into the seat next to Emilia, who gives you a soft, questioning look.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Murn slaps the dash, as you wince as the van jerks into the street.

“Here,” Emilia presses a couple tissues into your hands and you press them to your face, before carefully drawing your legs up, so you can lean against Chris, who doesn’t say anything as he gets an arm around your shoulders.

You can’t help but laugh as Ella Fitzgerald’d Dancing Cheek to Cheek warbles out of the speakers.

“Rock music feels a bit crass,” Ads explains, with no argument.

The ride back to headquarters is the quietest it’s ever been.

✿

Started on Vig nails. When I tell you that this singular nail (plus prepping all of them) has taken me 3 hours. And it came out lumpy and uneven anyway

Doing the V shape is going to drive me to insanity may Adrian Chase himself give me strength to finish these

Vigilante from Peacemaker but it’s Charlie Slimecicle

Have a peaceful Saturday 🌻

May your day be peaceful and relaxing.🌸🌷🌸

Savage Chapter 41-45

Story Summary -> Adrian makes a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl, but hey, when doesn’t he? She’s weird, funny, and treats him gently, which obviously makes him obsessed with her, and much to his surprise, she seems to like having him around too. Together, they try to carve out a peaceful life, yet her less than perfect family messes up their harmony.

Can their love survive alley fights, mob bosses, and a robotic eggman? It will be a tough ride, but they’re prepared to give it a go.

Entire Story Tags -> Dungeons & Dragons References, Gun Violence, Idiots in Love, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Children, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Animal Attack, DC Comics References, Mutual Pining, Bisexual Christopher Smith | Peacemaker, Domestic Fluff, Organized Crime, Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Kidnapping, Mommy Issues, First Meetings, First Kiss, Autism, Long-Term Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Soulmates, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Autistic Adrian Chase, Blood and Violence, Substance issues, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Unplanned Pregnancy, Gotham City is Terrible, Hospitalization, Blood and Injury, Crimes & Criminals, Written Before S2

• Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

Previous Chapter -> 36-40

41. With Fronds Like these, Who Needs Anemone

Pregnancy tests aren’t entirely accurate all of the time. That’s the thought she clung to as Chris suggested they should find out. The pair stood outside the bathroom door. She had been trying to enter it for the past 7 minutes with no success. Her feet wouldn’t move any further.

“Mind if I use it first? It’s just you might have a breakdown in there and I already need a piss, so I don’t want to be waiting just awkwardly holding in my piss as you cry or celebrate or whatever you end up doing.”

She couldn’t argue with that, so she stepped aside to let him enter and tried to block out the sounds of his piss stream. When he was done, she yelled, “Wash your hands,” as she had yet to hear the tap run. For some strange reason, watching Chris go into the bathroom allowed her legs to finally move. She could do this. She had to find out at some point. With a sigh, she finished getting mentally ready and grabbed her purse. She would fucking do this.

It was the first test in her life that she wanted to fail. Actually, that’s not true. She also wanted to fail her driver’s test so she could give it up and her parents would stop pushing her to drive. Alas, she passed and now tries to walk or get driven everywhere instead.

Chris opened the door and announced, “Your turn.”

“Plug your ears. I don’t want you to hear me pee.” He did as she said.

Opening the box and reading the instructions was the easy part. That, she could do without any nervousness. She quickly washed her hands and then readied herself to follow the instructions. Using three tests to be absolutely sure, she did the whole shebang step by step, then banged on the door to make Chris aware he could come in. He did so quickly, walking in to find her leaning against the sink, waiting for the results to show.

5 minutes felt like an eternity as the pair watched the little sticks. As soon as they began to develop, she had to hide behind her hands. “What does it say?” She asked, her eyes peeking between the gaps in her fingers.

“I don’t know,” he responded, looking over the instructions. “What does ‘two lines’ mean?”

“Shit.” She quickly looked at the tests. Each one of them had two reddish lines that were becoming more visible by the second. There was no mistaking it. She stared at him.

Finally piecing it together, Chris congratulated her, unsure of how she felt. “Can I be godfather?”

“These things are only,” she began and checked the box, “Fuck, uh, 99% accurate.” All signs pointed towards positive. She stood there, her mind reeling at the news. Her heart skipped a couple of beats before pounding so rapidly that she could feel it at her temples.

Pregnancy? She had always wanted to be pregnant at some point. It’s just that now probably wasn’t the correct point. Would she really be strong enough to deal with a kid? Physically, probably. Mentally, that was less likely. But, for now, she would keep her thoughts to herself. She would make an appointment with the doctor to find out for 100%. Once she was absolutely sure, that’s when she would discuss it with Adrian.

In the meantime, all she could do was wonder what it would be like to be a mother. Chris had promised not to tell him. It was her job to do that. He had almost let it slip when the two of them were out on patrol one night but managed to play it off like he was talking about something else. Smashing his fist into an arsonist’s face, Chris asked his buddy, “Have you ever seen Finding Nemo?”

The arsonist replied, “Of course, who-”

“Not you, jackass.” Peacemaker brought a punch to the guy’s temple and knocked him out.

Vigilante took his sword and sliced it across the throat of the criminal in his grasp. “Yeah, dude, it’s a classic. Why?”

“You remind me of the main guy.”

What the fuck did Chris mean by that? Adrian was perplexed by that. He enquired, “Marlin?”

“He’s the dad, right? Not the blue bitch?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Sirens could be heard getting closer. That was their cue to get the fuck out of there and back to the Vigilante-mobile. The pair rocked out as Adrian drove and totally forgot about Chris’s questioning. He got home in the early hours of the morning and quietly made his way through the backdoor to find her still awake. He instantly took his suit off and made his way towards her.

Tomorrow was her appointment, and she was finding it difficult to sleep. She had gone over every detail of it in her head and still had a shitload of questions. Of course, she would be lying if she said she was confident about how it would all go. But she was going to do it. Nothing was going to hold her back.

Pulling his mask off so he could see her more clearly, he rested against the kitchen doorframe as he watched her slowly dance whilst she waited for her midnight snack to cook. Wait, is it called a midnight snack if it’s past midnight? Are you legally allowed to call it that? Maybe 4 a.m. mozzarella dipper bonanza would be a more sufficient description.

She looked carefree and happy, the expression on her face reminding Adrian of how they first met, except for the fact that the roles were reversed. “Nice moves,” he announced, causing her to jump. She had been in her own little world. As soon as the shock had subsided, she pecked him on the lips and tried to get him to dance with her. He joined in on her goofy dancing as they waited for the food.

Why was she still awake? “Can’t sleep?” He asked, swaying gently with his arms wrapped around her.

“No, I had a headache.”

“Nightmares again?”

Strangely, ever since she had taken the tests (which was a little under 4 weeks ago). (hey, it takes a while to get a doctor’s appointment these days), he had been sleeping better and feeling better. It was as if she finally had something real and substantial to wait for. As if she was finally focused on something other than her past - her future. “I haven’t had a nightmare in a while,” she reassured him.

The timer she had set went off. It was food time. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

Adrian told her all about his night as they stuffed their faces with mozzarella dippers and fries. When he was done, they both collapsed in a heap on the couch. He felt like his eyes were wide open but he wasn’t seeing anything. His brain was fried but he still had so much energy left. Food had really invigorated him. She asked, “Tired?”

“I’ve still got some pep in my step,” he stated. They hadn’t had sex in a while due to his worries about her. She seemed to be doing better. He was growing more and more horny by the day. He often had to excuse himself to the bathroom and deal with his urges, using his imagination and the photo she had sent him ages ago as fuel.

It’s not as if she never tried to initiate it with him. He would always give her a disapproving look and change the subject. She knew why he was doing that and thought it was sweet, although a little frustrating.

Moving her hand to the waistband of his boxers, she waited for his confirmation before continuing and it only took a moment for him to nod. Then, with a little force, she flipped them over so she was leaning over him. This time he didn’t object.

In no time, she had removed the top she was wearing. It was nighttime, and she was in the comfort of her own home. Of course she didn’t have a bra on. Just that was enough to get him going. “Please sit on my face,” he begged. He sounded so desperate.

“Are you sure? Remember what happened last time?” He had been so focused on her that he forgot to stop for breath and almost passed out. Luckily, she managed to get off of him before he fell unconscious. He was more than willing to try again. She was always a little hesitant when he brought it up.

“Please,” he repeated, sloppily kissing the palm of her hand. How could she say no to that? She waited for him to shuffle down the couch, then removed her underwear and hovered herself above him, her thighs by his head.

Reminding him, she said, “Remember to breathe this time.”

“I know how to fucking breathe,” he replied through the haze of passion.

“Fucking could’ve fooled me last time.” His hands clamped themselves on her hips and pulled her onto his mouth. The sensation of her wetness drove him wild. He was so excited to finally be back to multiplayer sex rather than the left-handed singleplayer that he was getting more and more unsatisfied with each time. Every second of his wait was worth it. Her moans of pleasure were music to his ears. It was his favourite sound, and he hadn’t heard it in a while.

At what she thought was an appropriate time, she lifted her hips slightly to let him take a breath, but he wasn’t having any of it and roughly brought her onto his tongue once again, delving deeper than the last time. She let out a tiny squeal of surprise, and he grinned, loving the fact that she was just as into it as he was. “You’re so good,” she praised, which urged him to go faster. He was enjoying this a little too much. He knew he was supposed to be taking his time, but there were so many things going on in his mind that were begging for release.

“Can I start moving?” She asked through moans. He didn’t stop. He groaned and took one hand off her hip to give her a thumbs-up, then immediately returned them to start rocking her against him. It felt so good to her, and she couldn’t help but begin grinding against his mouth.

Yanking his hair to force him off her, she made him take a little break. “Good boy,” she cooed, beaming down at him. He was so turned on that she didn’t even mind that he was drooling on her legs. He gave her a sexy, heart-stopping grin, his chin coated with her. His eyes were totally glazed over.

“Only for you,” he replied, his tongue sliding its way across his bottom lip. “Come on, I need to taste you again. Can I?”

“Say please.”

“Please, baby.” Once again, she allowed him to continue and, in no time, she was soon grasping at the top of the sofa as her orgasm was nearing its peak. When it arrived, she threw her head back, and her hands were gripping the fabric so tightly that her knuckles were white as she loudly whined his name over and over again.

After she recovered, she dropped down to give him a kiss. “I came so hard,” she said, sitting back at his waist. “Plus, you didn’t pass out, so you’re really hitting it out of the park tonight.”

“Is that a fact?” he responded, smiling to himself. He kissed her again and went to say something but stopped himself as she slid his underwear down. She was going to ride him after just sitting on his face? This was the best fucking day ever.

When she had freed him from his boxers, she straddled him. The look of wonder on his face was worth every penny of her family’s dirty mob money. “That fact is 100% acu-rat,” she retorted, then realised an American probably wouldn’t get a Horrible Histories reference.

Slowly, she lowered herself onto his cock and felt him sink inside of her. It felt so good that she didn’t realise he had begun to speak. “You are so tight,” he said, his voice a strained whisper. “Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

“Is this better than sneaking away when we first wake up to jack off to that nude I sent you a while back?” She teased.

“How the hell did you know that?” He sat up slightly and started guiding her onto him, his strong grasp surely leaving bruise marks. “So much better. So much.” Instinctively, his hips bucked upwards, fucking himself further into her before meeting her mouth for a moan-filled kiss. Their tongues caressed and twirled against each other, tasting and experiencing every flavour in the air - which mostly consisted of sweat and the forgotten aroma of breaded cheese. Very sexy.

Breaking the kiss, she watched as Adrian’s eyes rolled back as he released his climax into her. This was her cue to follow suit and she did so, her forehead slightly knocking against his as she came again. They stayed like that for a few moments, the only movement being the rise and fall of their chests.

Sex after a night of crime-fighting ensured that Adrian smelt only of sweat, so she commented, “You absolutely stink, so shower, then bed?”

“Absolutely, my darling, sexy, beautiful, showstopping wife.”

“You could’ve just said yes.”

Chuckling, he argued, “Doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?” And he was right. It doesn’t.

42. Pepsi Or Coke?

Waiting rooms are purgatory. No matter how many times you’ve been to one, there’s always an undercurrent of worry. She knew she wasn’t dying. But what if the doctor said she was? What would happen? Of course, that wouldn’t happen. She was healthy. Yet, there’s always a chance.

Luckily, the doctor called her into the consultation room before she could spiral any further. The appointment took hardly any time. It was faster than she expected. She had been worrying that it was going to be a super long process and she would have to go back home to explain to Adrian why her 'grocery trip’ took forever. 

It was his day off and he wanted to spend every single minute with her, so it was a really difficult task to convince him that she needed to go to the shop alone. She still wasn’t quite sure how she managed to do it.

“Ade,” she playfully warned, trying to bat his head away from her neck as he pressed his lips to her skin. “Stop.”

“I can’t, baby,” he said, nipping at her ear. Why was she trying to get away from him? To shop? Hell, they could go shopping together. That would be no sweat. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with her. She had spent quite a bit of her time with Chris recently, and Adrian had been feeling left out. “You’re just too sexy to let go of.”

It was a good thing she was strong-willed; otherwise, he’d have had her on her back in no time. She had planned on getting there early to ensure everything would go smoothly. Maybe she could take some time to indulge him a little. Who was going to stop her? She certainly wasn’t going to. “If I give you a hand job, will you let me go to the shops in peace?” She offered.

“Make it a blowjob.”

“Done." 

In no time, he had his hand gripped in her hair and was pulling her up and down his erection, guiding her to take him deeper and deeper inside of her mouth. The tightness of her lips and throat was driving him insane with pleasure, and it wasn’t long before he was yelling out a bunch of curses, his chest heaving from his orgasm.

Wiping her mouth, she asked, "Will you be okay here on your own?”

“Sure,” he managed through still rasping breath. “Go. Get your shopping done.”

She smiled, trying to hide the fact that she felt a little guilty for the white lie. Still, as soon as she got home, he’d know the truth. With one final kiss, she was out the door.

The doctor confirmed what the tests had said. She had taken more in two weeks, just to check if they were telling the truth. All 14 of them had all been positive. And her periods had stopped a while back. It was official.

Y/N Chase was with child. 8 weeks pregnant. Fuck. Now she had to tell Adrian. She knew that he would take it well, extremely well. He would be so excited that he wouldn’t stop to think about the ramifications on their lives.

When she arrived home from the 'store’ without any groceries, he was suspicious. People tended to buy things when they went shopping and here she was empty-handed. Something was up. “Wow, need help with all your stuff, sexy lady?” He enquired, trying to get her to laugh with his little joke. He was unsure what emotion was on her face. It was a mix of too many that was confusing to him.

Whatever the case, it seemed to work because she let out a chuckle. But she didn’t say anything. She simply took his hands and guided him to sit down on their bed. “I have something to tell you.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, growing serious. He watched as she knelt in front of him. Was she going to suck his dick again? No. Right? No, this was serious. That wasn’t what was going to happen. “What is it? Baby, talk to me,” he added, his voice more anxious by the second. It was bad news. It had to be. Why else would she be so serious? “You’re looking pale.”

“I am?” Shit. This was harder than she thought. Y/N fumbled to find her voice. “I lied about going to the shop.”

Yeah, no shit. That was obvious. Not understanding her hesitation, he continued to joke, “I may be stupid, but I’m not that stupid.” She shook her head, smiling at him. He was correct; he isn’t that stupid.

Taking a deep breath, she admitted, “I went to the doctors.” He didn’t say anything for a few moments. Did she finally want to get therapy? They had spoken about it. Both of them agreed it would be beneficial to them, but it would be difficult to tell a therapist any part of their trauma. That would land them in jail. Separate jails.

Here it was. If she couldn’t tell him, maybe she could show him. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out one of the tests and placed it in his hand. She could see the gears turning in his head as he worked out what she was implying. As he was figuring it out, she waited patiently for his reaction.

“This is not a joke, right?” he asked, his voice failing him. This was a cruel trick if it were one. She would never be that mean. “This is real?”

“It’s real.” He was in shock. She could see it in his eyes, looking at the stick in his hands, trying to comprehend the meaning of what had just happened.

Then it hit him. “I’m going to be a dad,” he stated, a grin developing wide across his face. And he let out a hearty laugh. It was contagious.

“You are.”

“Holy shit.” He looked stunned. “Are you sure?”

She dumped all of the remaining tests from her bag onto the floor and confirmed, “Positive. Very positive.” He looked happier than she’d ever seen him and instantly leant down to kiss her, excitedly pulling her onto his lap. 

“I’m going to be a father, Y/N,” he declared, his voice fast and repeating. “I’m going to be a father.”

He reacted just as she predicted, and she couldn’t contain her grin despite how hard she tried. It was super hard for her not to want this kid when he was so enthusiastic about it. “You’ve got 14 weeks to change your mind,” she informed him, fiddling with the necklace that was his birthday gift. 

As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t. The look on his face. Oh… she didn’t think it could get worse, but it did. His expression dropped. Did she want an abortion? Was he supposed to not want this kid? 

“I’m not going to change my mind,” he clarified solemnly. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say. “I want to have this child.” He sounded firm. He rarely ever sounded like that. At least now he was taking it seriously.

Continuing, he said, “I’ll be so good,” and gently brought his hands to her stomach, softly caressing where their child would grow. “We can do this.”

She was too shocked to say anything. She just looked at him. Was it really that simple? Could he make it better? How? How could he make it better?

“I’ll be the best dad ever,” he added, grinning. Oh. My. God. She felt her eyes welling with tears again and tried to blink them away. She couldn’t do anything except stare at him. He completely forgot to consider her feelings. This was hardly the perfect time.

Adrian bit his bottom lip slightly as he pondered the situation. It would break his little heart if they were opposed on this. He stuttered out, “Do you, uh… do you want a…” He couldn’t get the word 'abortion’ out, so he changed course. “Is it me? Do you not want-”

Kissing him so he wouldn’t finish what she considered to be the stupidest statement he had ever said, she placed her hands on top of his. Her smaller ones cradled his as he felt her tummy. It was so warm, so soft. She took a deep breath as he worked to understand her. He could tell she was wavering, so he said, “You’d be a rad 'mum’.” He tried doing her accent. It wasn’t that awful of an attempt.

“I’m not so sure about that.” She placed a finger under his chin so he’d only look into her eyes. Ever since she had told him, his gaze often wandered down to her stomach. “I’m having a hard time processing this. What if I-" 

"It’ll be okay, you’ll see,” he told her, then teased, “At least you’ve already given up alcohol. That’s step one.”

That cheeky bastard. He was correct. She let out a cackle, partly in relief and partly at him. He loved that laugh. He loved her. He loved this kid. “I guess I’m ahead of schedule then,” she retorted. “I’ve got an ultrasound in two weeks. Mind accompanying me?”

His answer was obvious. That was a no-brainer. He would be by her side every step of the way. “I’ll do anything for you,” he murmured, before planting one on her lips. Not that she needed more proof, but it couldn’t hurt to have it.

Lifting her off of him and laying her down on the bed, he moved his head to hover above her abdomen, his fingers lightly tracing little circles in her waist as he began to talk nonsense to her stomach. “…That is the thing, you know. It’s impossible to guess whether you’ll be a Pepsi or Coke kind of person. Obviously, I mean the drink, not the drug, because you don’t want to get caught in possession since a gram is 1-3 years. "Maybe he would’ve made a good lawyer. Probably not, though. "And your ma and I would have to deal with the fact that our son is a criminal, which is-”

“Son?” she asked. He had always pictured them with a son. He had no idea why. He was just sure of it.

“Yeah, a little guy called Megatron.” He was being 100% serious. “I haven’t decided on a middle name yet.” That so wasn’t happening. Naming her child after a Decepticon? That was a no. Maybe an Autobot. But definitely not an evil Decepticon.

Gazing at him, she couldn’t help but laugh at his suggestion. It was so stupid. So ridiculous. He had no idea why she was giggling. He wasn’t joking. Playfully, he asked, “What’s so funny? What’s so funny about Megatron Chase?” She laughed harder when he said it out loud. “Now that I hear it, it does sound a bit stupid.”

Instead of getting offended at her mocking of his baby name, he decided to shut her up the only way he knew how to. He shifted up and attached his mouth to her skin, working his way from her ear down to her breast. All of a sudden, he pulled back and questioned, “But wait, I thought you were on the pill?”

That was a very good point. It had taken her some time to figure that out. “I am, usually. But I skipped… some days.” He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. She simply explained, “Gotham.”

Everything always goes down in Gotham.

It was all the explanation that he needed. He remembered that night. It’s sort of poetic that the night they thought their lives were over was the night they started a new one. One they’d both remember for the rest of their lives for a variety of reasons.

She brought her hand up and started raking it through his hair as she waited for his reaction, which was to respond with, “Guess I really dicked you down good that night then.”

“Ah yes, because procreation only happens when the sex is good,” she snarkily retorted with a smile. Maybe it was time to mess with him a bit. “Talking of sex, how do you feel now that we can’t have it for the next 8 months?”

“I’m okay with it,” he said. He kissed her on the lips and ran his thumb lightly over her nipple. His actions give his true feelings away. “Not as okay as I would be if we could have it, but okay nonetheless." 

His answer surprised her. That’s how much he wanted this kid. So much that he’d give up fucking her at every chance he got. That was a lot. "Pookie, I’m only playing with you. You can continue fucking me whenever you want.”

“Whenever?” he repeated seductively, moving his knee in between her legs. Now was whenever.

The next day, he gave in his notice at Fennel Fields so he could spend his time looking after his pregnant wife. He hadn’t told her he was going to do it. He only decided to do it during his shift. They could get by on her wage, so why not?

Strangely, the first thing Adrian saw when he got back from work was Percival and Cyril seated on their couch, which wasn’t odd these days, but he was always suspicious when they were around.

Y/N hadn’t told her brothers yet. She walked from the kitchen, beverages in hand, and saw her husband. He immediately pecked her on the head and tried to take the cups from her hand. “Ade, I’ve got it,” she reassured him, placing them on the coffee table. “So, what’s this news you’ve got, Perce?”

“Peacemaker and his crew killed our parents.”

That was kind of right. Technically, Y/N was part of Chris’s 'crew’.

43. Hentai

A couple of days before, Knight and Squire had managed to track down an old henchman of The Squid. The guy was more than willing to spill the beans on his experience. Well, he was after 3 of his fingers had been cut off. Percy was the one who was tasked with the grizzly removal. As a dentist, he was used to pulling teeth, not fingies. But he seemed fine with the task. It was as if he had done it before.

Now they were nonchalantly sipping their drinks as Y/N and Adrian exchanged a worried glance at each other. Was the jig finally up? “Why do you think Peacemaker did it?” she asked, not wanting to start a guessing game.

“One of Loman’s old employees told us that Peacemaker and Vigilante were there when mother was kidnapped,” Cyril explained. “Oh, and mother was kidnapped. Forgot to say that bit before.”

Adrian was sure that they killed all of the henchmen at the warehouse that day. It was so long ago in his mind. He remembers his kills. He also remembers Chris’s. It must’ve been Leota’s. Oh fuck, she had only been tranquilising them. That’s what happened.

“So, what’s your next step?” She asked Percy. It was clear he was the one in charge. It was possible she could get them to tell her their plan so she could warn A.R.G.U.S. If things went smoothly, she could prevent any further violence. It would just come to a rocky standstill.

“We need more evidence. We can’t just go in guns blazing,” Percy responded with a shrug. “We need to get a confession out of him somehow.”

Adrian piped up, “Who? Peacemaker or Vigilante?” She glanced at her husband and subtly shook her head. He was not starting shit. Not today. The last thing she needed was her man and her brothers feuding.

“Either,” Cyril said plainly.

It was easy for her to tell Adrian was getting antsy. He fidgeted where he stood and tapped his middle finger against his pointer, as he often did when something made him slightly uncomfortable. It was something he rarely did around her anymore. She had only seen him do it a couple of times when Chris hadn’t texted him in a few days and he thought his buddy was dead.

In an attempt to soothe him, she gently intertwined their hands and caressed her thumb against the back of his hand. It worked. Only slightly. But still, that was better than nothing. “What’s your plan?” she asked.

“We just want to talk,” Cyril admitted. Strange. Adrian’s brow furrowed. Maybe they were going to be okay.

Talking was not the family way. She was incredibly suspicious of this plan. “Just talk?” she repeated.

“Yeah,” Percival agreed. “We are doing a drug bust tonight. We’ve invited Peacemaker and told him to bring Vigilante. Maybe we’ll kick back some beers. Sort this shit out.”

Now it was her turn to shrug. “If you think it’ll help, sure.” But she really wasn’t sold on it. That was way too easy. Nothing is that easy and low maintenance. Especially in her life.

Yet, it may be strategically beneficial to go along and pretend that she did. That would ensure that she could keep both Peacemaker and Vigilante (especially since he was in the same room as her) in the loop. They would be aware of the plan and could just not go to this 'drugs bust’, which was clearly a trap, and be safe from her brothers for a while.

Maybe she could tip off A.R.G.U.S. in time. They could be proactive and use the opportunity to eliminate the threat. Wait, no. She didn’t want her brothers to die. She had just gotten to know them. Admittedly, she didn’t find what she had discovered about them particularly favourable. They were the last of her family. She had to protect them too. If they started threatening them, Chris and Adrian would kill them without really thinking too much about it.

Ultimately, when it comes down to it, she would throw anybody under the bus to keep Adrian out of harm’s reach. He was her person. The father of her child. That dumb whore was not dying on her watch. If she had to lie, she would lie, and she had a feeling she had already been lied to by one of the men in her life, so she was not above doing the same thing herself.

“Talking sounds good,” she falsely confirmed, nodding. “That’s what they told me to do in rehab. It was always, 'Hey, Y/N, you’ve got to speak from the heart about your issues and healing will soon follow.’ ’ A bunch of hippie shit. But it worked.”

Cyril was sold on the idea that his sister believed them. Percy, on the other hand, was a little doubtful, but he mostly deemed that she was telling the truth. She had to be telling the truth, because why else would she have brought up her alcoholism? She knew that it was a touchy subject for them.

They left and prepared for their nighttime activities, the door slamming behind them on the way out. The couple flinched at the sound and locked eyes. They needed to warn Chris. “You call him. He prefers you,” Adrian stated, holding his phone out to Y/N.

“He’s your best friend.”

Once upon a time, that was true. Not anymore. “You’re my best friend,” he retorted. He knew how cringe it sounded but said it anyway. It was true, she was. Chris always acted like he didn’t like it when Adrian was around. That’s hardly #1 BFF behaviour. Y/N never did that.

“So cheesy.” Unbelievably cheesy,“ she teased as she took the phone from his hands and called Chris. He picked up almost immediately.

"Hey,” Y/N greeted him, and Adrian repeated it as his hands snaked around her waist as she spoke. “Knight and Squire may be planning to kill you. Do not go out tonight.”

There was a brief pause before Chris spoke, “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions. Just go home and stay there. We love you; don’t die.” She hung up.

Looking at her husband, she joked, “Well, that was easy.”

Again, it was too easy. “Chris won’t listen,” Adrian admitted. He knew Peacemaker well. That was an understatement. And he knew for a fact that Chris would intend to do as she said but would get bored and curious. By 9pm, he would be out on patrol and probably get murdered by Knight, which (obviously) they wanted to avoid. There were two of them vs. Peacemaker. Vigilante needed to even the scales, just in case.

She watched as this thought popped into his head. It’s not like she could force him to not protect his #2 BFF. “Let me come with?” she asked, a sly grin on her face. “3 vs 2?”

Adrian let out a short, barking laugh, his eyes glowing dangerously. Putting his pregnant wife in the firing line? That was the stupidest thing she had ever said. “Yeah, no. That’s a hard no,” he stated, shaking his head. “You stay here. You’ll be fine.”

“I know how to shoot,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You are mentally incapable of holding a gun,” he reminded her. He didn’t like to remind her of that, but it was the only argument he needed.

That was a good point. He got her with that one. Y/N made one last plea as she looked into his eyes. “I’ll wear a sexy costume.”

On any other day, that might’ve worked. Today, not in a million years. “No,” he almost growled. He softened his tone. “I want you to stay safe. This is not a negotiation.”

Shit. She knew when to give up. She knew he would say no, but she still wanted to help. What could she do? Logically, her part in the grand scheme of things was over. She had successfully convinced her brothers that they had the high ground. That was enough. She didn’t need to do anything else.

Except maybe she could… No. She was not going down that rabbit hole. It wasn’t just her life on the line now.

Y/N took Adrian’s head in her hands and pulled him into a deep and passionate smooch. She didn’t just make her husband happy; she made him the happiest man on the planet. He was practically beaming from ear to ear. And he was going to be that way for as long as he could.

“If you die,” she whispered into his ear. “I’ll kill you.”

His eyes were glassy but he smiled. He put his chin on her head and held her tight. “I won’t,” he promised, and she believed him. He’d do the absolute most to get back to them.

“I love you,” she said. She had said it to him so many times before.

But this one was different. He could tell every little emotion she was feeling just with those three words. He looked down at her. His smile faltered, his eyes dropped to her abdomen, and he looked like he was going to break into a sob. “I love you more.”

“That’s impossible.”

He didn’t leave her side as they waited for the inevitable: Chris to be a dumbass. They spent that time snuggled up on the sofa. Adrian’s head was in Y/N’s lap, her hand running through his hair as he told their kid about his adventures (he made them much more palatable for a child’s ears despite the fact that the foetus wouldn’t be able to hear for another 8 weeks).

Peacemaker did just as Adrian had said he would, so Vigilante waited outside his buddy’s door for him to come out. He tried to look cool by leaning against it and putting one of his legs against the wall like he’d seen cool guys do in movies, but he looked awkward. Like a covert flamingo.

Peacemaker jumped when he saw his pal. “Fuck, Vee? Were you listening to me jerking off 5 minutes ago?” he asked, eyes wide with fear and disgust.

Vigilante had heard Chris beating his meat but didn’t realise that was what he was doing. “Dude, I thought you were watching anime.” It was hentai. Incredibly gross, incredibly fucked up hentai.

Ignoring this, Chris asked, “What the hell are you doing here, man? Y/N told us to stay inside.”

“So, what are you doing then?” Touché.

Vigilante 1 vs. Peacemaker 0

“She’s your wife. I don’t have to listen to her,” Peacemaker replied, making his way to his car. Another good point.

Vigilante 1 vs. Peacemaker 1

Without another word, Adrian got in the passenger’s side and joined Chris at the location provided to him. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone but he knew he had to.

“Let’s get this shit over with,” Chris said.

Knight and Squire were waiting outside a warehouse that looked incredibly similar to the one Peacemaker and Vigilante had busted before. The one difference was a small padlock through the gate with a chain attached. Squire picked up a bolt cutter and snipped the lock in two seconds flat. “After you, boys.”

“What, no hello? 'Hi, Peacemaker, how are you?” Chris joked as he put his foot on the top rung of the gate and pushed it open. Mockingly, Squire repeated what Chris had asked them to say.

“It’s clear they want us first so they can get a good look at my fat ass,” Vigilante teased, using his Vigilante™️ voice as a cover. They knew what he usually sounded like. Chris looked at him sceptically for a second but soon moved on. He might have thought Adrian was putting on a stupid voice for a joke.

They entered the warehouse, and the first thing the quartet saw were three dead bodyguards, one of them still holding a gun in his hand. “Someone took them out before we got here. You really need to be more careful,” Knight said, shooting a look at his brother. It was a nice little charade.

“This seems a little dead,” Peacemaker said. “Hardly a four-man job.”

The next thing the group saw was a bag in the middle of the room. Adrian recognised it. It was Laura’s. The black one with a squid engraved on it. How the hell was it here? Before he could warn Peacemaker, Chris walked up and opened the bag.

A boom rang out and Peacemaker was thrown back, awful green gas spewing out of the handbag. Knock out. Vigilante rushed and tried to pull Peacemaker out of the area of effect, but Chris was too meaty. He didn’t look injured, just dazed.

The last thing Vigilante saw before the knockout gas got to him was Knight and Squire removing their masks to replace them with wartime gas masks as a bunch of masked hidden henchmen swarmed into the room. Oh fuck, now it was more than 2 vs 2. More like 20 vs 2.

One of the brothers, Adrian was too dizzy to know which one, made his way in front of Chris and teased, “Night night, Pissmaker.”

Both Vigilante and Peacemaker had walked into a trap. Just as she said they would. And now, they were seriously outnumbered and unconscious. What could go wrong?

Knight and Squire 1 vs. Vigilante and Peacemaker 0

44. Bitchface🤰

Alone. That’s how Y/N felt when she woke up. She was all alone, in their bed, in their house, without Adrian. It was hard for her to get to sleep last night, as she was so worried about him, but being pregnant is rather tiring, so she eventually fell into a restless slumber.

It was strange. She had become accustomed to the feeling of his body tightly pressed up against hers as they slept. And the feeling of him poking her in the stomach when they woke up was something she looked forward to. But now, well, now it just felt weird to have the empty space beside her.

After rushing to the bathroom to puke (it got all in her hair because she didn’t have someone to hold it back for her), she held her stomach and said, “Your daddy should be home by now.” She really hoped he was alright.

Yet, she doubted that was true. He was in danger. So was Chris. Leota would know what to do. “Hey, girl,” Leota greeted down the phone.

“Peacemaker and Vigilante have gone missing,” Y/N stated back. “They went on a mission with Knight and Squire last night. It was a trap. I know it.”

Leota was silent for a moment. “Are you sure?”

As she had been with everything recently, she answered, “I’m positive.”

“Okay. I’ll let Harcourt know. You did good, honey,” Leota said, and hung up.

Well, now she was really worried. What if she was wrong? What if Peacemaker and Vigilante were out there somewhere, just hanging out. Maybe they had some beers and got drunk with her brothers, as they said they would.

No. Adrian would’ve drunkenly texted her something incredibly explicit. He always did that. She could tell the level of drunkenness by how much she blushed. The first time he asked her to peg him, he was very drunk at Chris’s house and messaged her:

🧜💙: ca n yu buy a strap o. n?

🧜💙: i hink yo should

🧜💙: tht s o hot

🧜💙: fuk ur ho t bb

🧜💙: pls fuk m e

After that, the messages got too incoherent for her to be able to figure out. Chris soon phoned her so she’d come and pick him up.

Just in case she was wrong, she called Chris. That should’ve been step one.

In the warehouse, Chris had woken up before Adrian and was scanning the room that they were in. It was filled with henchmen, but Knight and Squire were nowhere in sight. His pocket began vibrating and playing music.

One of the henchmen scoffed, “Your ringtone is Firework by Katy Perry?” Y/N had changed it to that one day as a prank, and Chris had no idea how to change it back to the standard one.

His wife’s call woke Adrian up. And fuck. He was tied to a chair yet again. Why was this becoming a regular thing for him?

The henchman took Chris’s phone and looked at the caller ID. “Who is Bitchface with the emoji that is pregnant?”

“None of your business.”

Unable to keep his mouth shut, Adrian asked, “Wait, you know she’s pregnant?” Chris had known before he did? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Turning to see his buddy awake, Chris explained, “I was there when she took the first test,” and tried gesturing with his hands, but couldn’t because they were tied up. “I promise I didn’t listen to her pee.”

Henchman #1 looked between them and was so surprised that they were so calm about being tied to a chair. The boss had said they were a pair of freaks.

A.R.G.U.S. (well, the remaining members) had gathered in Y/N’s living room. Economos was lounging on the couch. Leota was pacing back and forth. Emilia, whose physical therapy had improved so much that she no longer needed a wheelchair, leant against a wall. And finally, Y/N was in her bedroom, turning it upside down as she looked for the remote for what she had allowed Adrian to get for his birthday.

It was when she was still in the hospital and he took her hand to ask, “Babe, can I put a tracker in you or on you, whichever you prefer?”

What? Maybe because of the drugs they were putting in her, she heard him wrong, so she instructed him to repeat what he said. He did and added, “It’s just that if something happens again, you won’t need to put a bomb in your head.”

“That bomb came in handy.”

Y/N thought this over. It was a little overprotective, but she rarely ever hid anything from him, so it would be fine. Actually, it would be beneficial.

“Please? Think of it as my birthday present,” he pleaded. He would’ve preferred to spend his birthday in the confines of their home, just the two of them watching some awful rom-com and talking over it. They would order pizza, then he’d ask for anal, and she’d say 'well, it is your birthday’ (not that she usually said no when he suggested new risqué things). But, he’d give up on that to ensure her safety.

“Fine,” she agreed. He punched the air, then littered her cheeks with happy kisses when she gave in. “Only on the condition that you get one too. I wasn’t the only one who got kidnapped.”

Double trackers? He could sort that out. After she had fallen asleep, he spent his time enthusiastically googling where to buy this sort of thing. It was in his 3rd hour of searching for the perfect and indiscreet looking necklace for her when he realised Economos would definitely know about this shit.

🧜💙: what’s the smallest tracking device you own?

💻🪚: Why?

🧜💙: I need two

💻🪚: Again, why?

🧜💙: to track someone, duh

🧜💙: are you stupid?

💻🪚: Do you want them or not?

🧜💙: very much, so…

💻🪚: I’ll bring them tomorrow.

Luckily for him, there was an Amazon locker just outside the hospital, and he ordered two necklaces that he knew she’d like. They were slightly different, but he knew which one she’d want.

Economos came through. The tracker was small enough to fit in the space behind one of the letters on the necklace. It was a perfect fit.

As soon as she woke, Adrian jumped to sit next to her on the bed. “Hey, handsome, slow down. Just woke up,” she groaned out.

Adrian stroked her cheek - keeping the other hand that clutched the gifts behind his back - and waited for her to sit up. “I can’t wait much longer,” he whispered and kissed her. “And have I mentioned that you’re so beautiful in the morning?”

“What have you done?” She asked. He was being too sweet. Then she remembered. “Oh shit, it’s your birthday. I promise I’ll give you your present when we get home. It’s hidden on top of the wardrobe.”

“I know,” he confirmed. She knew he had because the wrapping paper was slightly ripped. “I’ve always wanted a Lego Death Star.” She knew he did. He had mentioned it once or twice before. Okay, more like 50 times. Well, 40 at least.

“We can build it once we get back,” he continued, “But first, here.” He held out the little box in his hand to her. It was his birthday. Why was he giving her a present? She didn’t want to ruin the mood by questioning him, but she was curious. She took the box from him and opened it.

“Oh,” she breathed. She was surprised that he managed to get a tracker and something to put it on at such short notice. She lifted the necklace out of the box and smiled as she examined it. It was a chain with the word 'Dude’ written across a pane of silver in the centre.

Underneath was his. It was the same style but had the word 'Dudette’ instead. And underneath that was a little controller to turn the tracking on. They were normal necklaces until they needed to be more than that. “Pookie, this is perfect.”

He reached out and placed it around her neck, placing a little peck on the clasp at the back, which landed in the middle of her healing bomb scar. She did the same to him. “Knew you’d like it.”

“It’s beautiful, baby.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled away as she noticed someone watching them. “John is standing like a perv on the other side of that window.”

Economos still couldn’t believe that this was the same guy that had once whined about not getting to use a chainsaw in battle. The guy that had to pull his pants all the way down when he peed had a partner who was overjoyed at the prospect of having matching jewellery with him. That was truly the most insane thing that he had ever seen.

If someone as fucked up as Vigilante could get that, so could he.

Getting up on his feet and quickly closing the curtains, Adrian made his way back to Y/N’s side and brought her in for a kiss. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear as he started clutching the top Leota had bought her. “I can’t wait to take this off.”

Nurses would definitely walk in on them, as any form of intimacy would raise her heartbeat and they would come in to check on her. They often joked that they knew when she was around Adrian, as the heart rate monitor would beep at a higher frequency for a few seconds before returning to normal. Plus, would sex in a bustling hospital constitute public indecency?

“I promise I’ll let you do whatever you want to me as soon as we get home,” she flirted.

He smirked. “Whatever?”

“Yep,” she confirmed, then peppered sloppy kisses down his jaw as she whispered, “I still haven’t given you your final present, and I know you really want this one.” He knew what that meant. Maybe he didn’t have to give up on his dream birthday situation. He just had to move it a few days.

Snapping back into reality, she finally got to the last place it could be in: their sex toy drawer. Just as she threw a dildo behind her onto the bed, Economos walked in. “Oh. Fuck. I’ll pretend I didn’t see that,” he stuttered out.

John averted his eyes as she emptied the drawer onto the floor. Every sex toy under the sun came spilling out. Blindfolds, butt plugs, nipple clamps, floggers, cuffs, vibrators, dildos, and a sharp knife, to name a few. “I’ve never seen so much plastic in my life.” He picked up a couple of butt plugs with a confused look on his face. “What do these do?”

Taking it out of his hand, she said, “You probably don’t want to touch that.” Gross. Economos left the room and immediately washed his hands. He realised what he had just touched. That had probably been up Adrian’s ass. He had to shake that thought out of his head.

“Got it,” she exclaimed. It was the remote. It took them no time to turn it on and get Vigilante’s location. Bless Adrian and his need for safety. It had saved his life multiple times before and had done it again.

The crew crowded around John’s laptop as he tracked the boys. They were in an abandoned building that used to be a storage facility for Hot Topic. Why on earth would they be there? “It’s close,” Emilia said. “We should be able to be there in twenty minutes.”

Y/N nodded. “Let’s go.”

Leota knew Y/N was going to insist on joining them, but she still argued, “Adrian would actually murder us if anything happened to you. We would be dead before your body would even be cold.”

That was true.

“You better hope nothing happens to me then.” Nothing was stopping her from saving her husband. Nothing they could say would be able to hold her back. It was her fault he was in this mess, so it was up to her to get him out of it.

Leota drove as Emila and Y/N discussed a plan. John kept his eyes on the tracker location just in case it moved. It hadn’t yet.

That was because Vigilante and Peacemaker were still bickering. It had moved onto the subject of what the best Star Wars movie was. “Phantom Menace sucks, bro,” Peacemaker yelled.

“It’s funny,” Vigilante retorted. “Watch it as a comedy and you’ll enjoy it. Liam Neeson in a wig?” He started laughing at the thought of Qui-Gon Jinn. “Gets me every time.”

Henchman #1 had given up trying to get them to shut up ages ago. He had gone on a break, so Henchman #2 had taken over. #2 didn’t mind this conversation. He thought it was quite funny. “You do remind me of Jar Jar Binks,” he said, pointing to Vigilante. He did his best impression of the Gungan, “Me so stupid.”

Peacemaker had to agree a little but warned, “Hey, only I can make fun of him!”

“Yeah, only Peacemaker can make fun of me,” Vigilante repeated. Then he added, “Well, him and my wife. They’re the only people allowed to make fun of me.”

#2 couldn’t believe his ears. Vigilante had a wife? The freakier of the freaks had a wife? They could use that information. “That is information that I’m sure the boss will love to hear about.”

It was at that moment that Percival and Cyril walked back into the room without their masks on. “What would I love to know, Tony?” Percy asked.

Oh, Adrian had fucked up. Seriously fucked up. “Vigilante has a wife, don’t you?”

Adrian kept his mouth shut, which was hard, but he was trying.

Cyril was quick to respond, “Well, that is good leverage. Almost as good as seeing what that face looks like under that mask.” He made his way up to Adrian and reached for the bottom of his visor. Vigilante shifted, trying to prevent being unmasked, but it was useless.

With one quick tug, his face was visible to his brother-in-laws. “Adrian?” They both exclaimed. Now they knew why she said, 'Every single man in my life is a fucking vigilante’.

Henchman #2 asked, “You know the annoying one, boss?”

Percy nodded, fully understanding the situation they were in now, and answered, “Yeah, he’s our sister’s husband.”

Y/N hadn’t told Chris that part. He knew her brothers were in town but he had no idea they were fucking Knight and Squire. “Wait, what? Y/N didn’t say jack shit about this!” Peacemaker argued. His little friend hadn’t told him something? That annoyed him. “Shit, no wonder she wanted you to fuck off and go home.”

Outside the building, Y/N and Emilia were arguing. “You said that last time and look what you did,” Emilia pointed out.

“I will wait for backup this time. Okay? I will,” Y/N replied. It was easy to understand why it was hard for Harcourt to trust her to go through with a plan after what she had done the last time. “I’ll go in and stall while you guys take down as many of their guys as you can.”

Leota patted Y/N on the shoulder and handed her an earpiece. “You’re going to kick ass, believe me.”

“Right back at you, hot stuff.”

Keeping her hands held up in surrender, Y/N walked towards the building. She knew there were security cameras (John had hacked into them). The plan was to get caught. She didn’t think it would be such a hard thing to do.

Almost immediately, two gun-wielding mobsters rushed to her side and brought her into the building. “You try anything, we kill the hostages. You understand, bitch?”

She nodded, keeping her expression placid. “Of course.”

“Hey, you fucking pig!” A familiar voice growled. “You touch her, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Adrian, I’m fine,” she reassured him. Their eyes met, and she subtly winked at him. Her hand brushed against her necklace to tell him how she found out where he was being kept. He seemed to get the hint. “I’m sorry. The ride here took longer than I expected,” she said and smiled. “Had to uber, you see.”

He looked at her disapprovingly. What was her game plan?

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Percy demanded, pushing his men off her. How had she found them? Had she followed them last night?

Casually, she tried making her way towards Vigilante, but Knight put his arm out to stop her. “Oh, you know, had to make sure my brothers didn’t kill my husband for a crime I committed,” she admitted as if she were talking about the weather or what she wanted to wear tomorrow, not as if she was confessing to the murder of their parents.

Cyril just gaped at her from where he stood. “It was you who…” Cyril started before trailing off, unsure of what to say.

“Tell us the truth,” Percy snapped and held a gun to Vigilante’s head. “Who kidnapped mum?”

“Well, they did that bit,” she responded like it didn’t faze her. It did. An awful lot. She had to pretend like she didn’t care too much about Chris and Adrian; that would ensure that their harm couldn’t be used as leverage. Or, at least, that’s what she thought. “I’m the one who drowned her.”

Laura’s real cause of death hadn’t been revealed to the family. The cover-up had framed it as a gas explosion, but Knight and Squire had found out the real cause when they broke into the coroner’s.

Through her earpiece, John said, “Ads and Harcourt are making their way from the back now. Keep talking.”

It was going to take all of her will to stay composed as Y/N teased, “Oh, and daddy? I put a bullet in his brain just to complete the set.” Her voice was mostly steady, maybe a little shaky at the end.

“You sick bitch! That’s our father!” Cyril cried out and aimed his gun at her. Y/N laughed.

“You mean your father?” This could be a time to test the allegiances of their hired muscle. She recognised one of them from Gotham. These were the remnants of Loman’s men. “My father is Lawrence Loman.”

Some of the henchmen looked at each other. By the rules of succession, they should be her men. Percival had walked in one day and claimed that Loman had named him as the next in line, and they were so scrambled that they went along with it. “Since my father is dead, I guess that makes me The Squid.” She turned to the henchmen and waved. “Hi boys.”

One of the henchmen asked, “You’re The Squid?”

“I’m The Squid,” she confirmed. “And if we’re doing it by who killed The Squid, that would make him.” She pointed towards Adrian. “The Squid. But, obviously, he was working on my orders so it comes back to me again. Either way you want to play it, dear brother, you’ve taken my crown.”

“Fuck’s sake. You can’t be serious,” Perce gasped. Apparently, he had an idea of what she was up to and didn’t like it. “Your orders? Vigilante was acting under your orders?”

Time for some proper acting. “You think I married him because he’s kind? He’s sweet?” She questioned and lowered the guns in her brother’s hand. “He’s a serial killer. He’s not sweet.”

Adrian knew she was fibbing to them, but it still hurt a little. The words came off her lips so easily, and if he didn’t know everything about her, he would’ve believed her. It scared him a little that she was so good at this little charade. “I’m sorry, Percival. If you want to leave here with your life, untie my lapdog,” she said, making it sound like she genuinely meant it. “And his meathead friend.”

Chris retorted, “Hey! My head may be a little bigger than a normal guy’s, but that’s because I’m so muscular.” He had no idea why she was acting this way.

Cyril had gone his whole life with his older brother always telling him what to do, and now his younger sister was trying the same. “You don’t get to order us around,” he yelled at her, his hand shaking as he pointed his gun in her direction. “You don’t get to tell us what to do.”

“That’s good, Cyril,” she said, her voice becoming venomously soft. “Are you finally going to stand up for yourself? Couldn’t do it to Percy but I’m less likely to punch you if you disobey, right?”

Henchman #1 (who had come back from his break and managed to witness this) and henchman #2 moved behind Peacemaker and Vigilante to remove their bonds. She was in charge and nobody had done what she said yet.

“What are you fucking doing?” Percy shouted to the henchmen. “You work for me, you cunts!”

What an entitled little prick. “That’s so mean,” she said, looking at her henchmen. “Boys, point your guns at my brothers for disrespecting you.” They all did. Peacemaker and Vigilante would’ve joined in if they were armed. Knight dropped his weapon. Squire lowered his. Mission accomplished without the need for A.R.G.U.S.

It was at that moment when Harcourt and Adebayo made their way into the room. John was too late on the comms and warned Y/N a second too late. “Ads and grumpy bitch incoming.” Harcourt clearly had said something whilst they were making their way in that John didn’t like.

“Don’t worry about them,” she reassured, ensuring that her new army of disciples wouldn’t shoot her friends. “They were my backup.”

Adebayo made her way over to Chris and checked if he was okay. He was, but he had some questions for Y/N. Just as he was about to ask, Percy retrieved a knife from his belt and held it against his sister’s neck while he slowly backed them towards the exit. “I’m not going down without taking her with me,” he warned.

Vigilante immediately picked up a gun and aimed it. It wasn’t a clear shot from where he was standing, and he didn’t have his glasses or visor on. He’d definitely hit his wife if he tried.

Cyril made a snap decision. He had a clear line of sight at his brother and took it. Percy managed to lightly cut her neck as he fell to the ground, clutching his own neck that was quickly pouring blood.

Percy looked up at Cyril to whisper, “Guess you stood up to me, huh?” Then he let out one final breath and went limp.

Y/N turned to Cyril and threatened, “Go back home to your wife and kids. If I catch you in America again, I’ll kill them first.” She would never do that. He didn’t know that and quickly dropped his weapon, then proceeded to rush out. He was definitely going to get the first plane out.

Turning around to the henchmen, she ordered, her facade dropping, “You’re going to report to Harcourt for the time being.”

Emilia didn’t know what to do with these mob guys. Should they go to jail? Probably. Could she use them as assets? Also, probably. Plus, if they ever stepped out of line, she’d get them done for racketeering, so that was a backup plan.

Adrian hurried his way to his wife and inspected her cut, getting her blood all over his hands. It wasn’t deep, but it was bleeding a lot. “Sorry about all that shit I said,” she apologised. It was a lie on his behalf, but it was still mean. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I kind of am your lapdog, though. I’m your little bitch,” he joked. He put his hand against her cheek, then realised that he had covered her face in blood and comically grimaced. “Shit, sorry.” She didn’t care. She took his chin and pressed their lips together.

It didn’t matter that people were watching them. He needed to know she still thought the world of him. That hadn’t changed.

A.R.G.U.S. watched as the couple kissed in a bloody crime scene. “Gross, guys,” Emilia yelled. “Get a room.” Adrian replied by flipping her off and deepening the kiss.

“Leave them be,” Chris responded with a chuckle. “You know, I almost died too.”

Leota and John got the hint. They moved away to give their coworkers some space. Before she left, Leota gave Chris a supportive thumbs-up over Emilia’s shoulder. “Did you miss me?” He asked.

“No,” she lied, then gave him a peck on the cheek right before she instructed the mobsters with their orders, which was to wait patiently for the next mission. This was the most affection he had ever gotten from her.

Breaking their snog, Adrian couldn’t help but place his hands on her stomach, just to feel it. “I have to be so careful,” he said. “If anything happened to you, I can't… I can't…”

Then he got an idea. It was an idea he’d never thought he’d ever get. He moved out of Y/N’s grasp and walked over to Harcourt. “Kick me off A.R.G.U.S.”

“Done.” Fuck, that was easy. When he seemed surprised at Emilia’s quick reaction, she explained, “You weaselled your way onto this team. We can do it without you, so go be with your pregnant wife.” How did she know? Had Chris told her? Actually, it was more likely that she had seen him mere minutes before feeling Y/N’s stomach. That tends to happen for one reason.

That night, the couple snuggled on the couch as soon as they got home. Leota had patched up her cut and it would heal in a couple of days. Raising her head off his chest to look him in the eye, she joked, “I went to Hot Topic and all I got was this stupid open wound.”

Chuckling, he responded, “That’s not funny,” and pulled her closer to him. He wouldn’t let go for a very long time. Well, until she needed a pee. She told him he wasn’t allowed in because he tried to follow her in. There is a difference between being attached at the hip metaphorically and physically.

45. Happily Ever After

Always one to use her new name, Y/N Chase finished her book and sent it off to her publishers a week after Percy died. This would be Taylor Savage’s last book. From now on, she was planning on writing children’s books under her own name. She wanted to make novels that she could read to her kid.

The rest of the 2nd month of her pregnancy went swimmingly. The couple made it to the first ultrasound without issue. Adrian could barely contain his excitement as they got dressed that morning. “I read on the Internet that he’s the size of a large orange,” he announced as he pulled his shirt on. “That’s around 10 cm, which is kind of crazy to me.”

She was in the process of trying to get her jeans done up but couldn’t. “Looks like it’s joggers for me,” she quipped. His face beamed with glee as he threw a pair of his sweatpants at her. This was actually happening. It was evident in her body that he was actually going to be a father. The bump was clear for anyone to see.

“Stop staring at me,” she playfully warned as she looked around the room for her shoes. Where the actual fuck were they?

“Stop being so sexy then,” he retorted, immediately finding them and placing them in front of her. “Seriously, what would you do without me?”

Jokingly, she admitted, “I’d probably be in the mob,” and that was 100% true.

Once they were done getting ready, Adrian drove them to the doctors. It seemed like no time had passed when they got into the sonographer’s room for the dating scan. It was like watching a strange TV. Their baby was projected on the screen as Dr Balls (a name which both of them found incredibly funny but managed to keep in their laughter) slid the transducer across Y/N’s stomach.

“That’s the baby?” Adrian asked, unsure of what he was supposed to be looking at. “That blob?”

“Yes, that little blob is Chase Jr.”

“Fucking sick.”

After that day, Adrian kept a photo of their 'little blob’ in his wallet and never took it out.

When they got home, she slumped on the sofa and waited for him to get ready for work. But he didn’t. He just sat down next to her and turned the TV on. “Doesn’t your shift start in half an hour?”

“Shit. I forgot to tell you,” he began as he pulled her legs onto his lap so she’d be more comfortable. It slipped his mind. “I quit.”

“What?” That came out harsher than she’d meant it too. “Why… why did you do that?”

“I think you know why,” he shrugged. She did. She loved his dedication, but she didn’t want to feel like a burden to him. He would get seriously bored gazing at her as she wrote. It wasn’t a fun job to watch.

Bringing her hand to the nape of his neck and gently twirling his hair around her finger, she gave him a look that essentially said, 'you know what to do.’ So he replied with, “I’ll find another job.”

That was easier than she expected. She had assumed that he’d need more convincing than that. Maybe he knew that he’d become restless without anything to do. He promised to only do his Vigilante shit on the weekends (she said he could continue as normal, but he insisted), so that left the rest of the week completely wide open in his schedule.

As the weeks passed, Y/N got more and more bulbous. Adrian found it incredibly cute when her tops no longer fit over the bump and her belly poked out of the bottom. It did make him smile every time.

“Ade, I’ve got to get new clothes,” she complained and tried to find her bag. “I’m going to be the size of a whale.”

“Just wear mine,” he replied. She had been wearing his and they were becoming too small.

Pointing to the shirt she was wearing, she retorted, “I am.” At this point, he couldn’t tell the difference between their clothes.

On his first day at his new job, which was as a self-defence instructor, he had accidentally put a pair of her panties on instead of his boxers. Luckily, nobody else found out, but he thought it was hilarious, and when he came back home and told her, she did too.

Her appetite was becoming weird too, and he tried to eat whatever she was craving, but some of them were downright disgusting. “Here are your flaming hot cheetos,” he said, handing the packet over to her. “And here is your dipping sauce, you absolute freak.” It was yoghurt. She had found out that her cravings were quenched by soggy fermented milk-covered cheetos.

To her, it tasted like ambrosia, so she didn’t really care that much that it was an odd combo. She dipped a chip into the yoghurt and held it out to her husband. “Wanna try?”

Adrian took a deep breath and decided to open his mouth to try it. He was surprised when it wasn’t actually that bad and let her feed him more. Some of the yoghurt dropped down his chin, so she licked it off for him.

“That turned me on. I’m happy to admit that,” he announced. She stopped him from kissing her, as she was too busy eating, but the rest of their evening was spent laughing and talking about their plans for the future.

About 28 weeks in, as Adrian was brushing his teeth, he heard Y/N call his name. He rushed in to find her with a huge grin on her face. “Come here,” she beckoned. He went over to her, curious to find out what she wanted.

Gently, she took his hands and placed them in the area where she had felt the kicking. She looked up at him and said, “Megatron is really fucking active tonight.”

He had never felt it before. Their little life was a rowdy motherfucker. He grinned like an idiot as he felt the little jabs in his hand. “I think that one was a sweeping crane kick,” he joked. “You’re a fighting menace, just like your father.”

She reached out and wiped some toothpaste from his mouth, then replied, “Let’s hope you’re not as messy as your father.”

Pulling her into his arms, he jovially argued, “I’m the messy one? Which one of us has a hard time finding her shit?”

“That’s a good point,” she laughed. “Sorry about that.”

Adrian didn’t care. He was used to it by now. But, he still said, “Kiss me and I might forgive you.”

“Using my own lines against me, that’s a low blow, Mr Chase,” she teased as she placed her arms around his shoulders.

“And I’m not half as good at blowing as you are, Mrs Chase,” he replied, just before he leant towards her and captured her lips in a passionate kiss, which only stopped because Adrian felt a small poke. “I guess he wants me to stop attacking you with my mouth.”

“Only you could make kissing sound violent.”

Chuckling, he proudly announced, “I am one of a kind.”

One night, as they were in bed, he smushed his face into her neck and softly began pressing his lips to her skin, making a series of light kisses to every sensitive point in her ear, down her collarbone, over her heart and finally to her lips. She moaned a little as his breath moved over her before he gently bit her lower lip.

She was going to let him continue but suddenly felt a slight popping sensation and placed her hand on his cheek to stop him. “Adrian, does your leg feel wet?”

Now that she mentioned it, it did. He hadn’t noticed. He nodded. What was going on? Looking him dead in the eyes, she explained, “I think my water just broke.” That makes sense. She had been feeling contraction-like sensations for the past couple of hours but brushed them off as mental symptoms that were trying to make her anxious.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, before kissing her more madly. He took this opportunity to joke, “Fuck, this is the wettest you’ve ever been for me.”

“That’s not funny,” she said, unable to hide her grin.

Pushing himself up, he rushed out of bed and looked for his phone to call the midwife. She couldn’t help but find it funny that he was in his underwear with a very obvious boner, hysterically throwing clothes around the room to find his phone. He found it on the floor and saw that the screen was broken to pieces since he had chucked it off the bed. “Holy shit, it’s fucked! What the fuck is going on?”

She heard the panic in his voice and soothed, “Hey, hey, just use mine.”

“How are you so calm? You are in labour!” he asked, his voice getting so high.

That was a good question. Maybe it was because her water breaking just felt like she had peed and the painful contractions hadn’t started yet. Maybe it was because her panicking would cause his reaction to get more extreme, and that is the last thing they needed. “Listen to me. I will call Abigale. You sit down and take some breaths,” she reassured him.

Doing as she said, he flopped face first onto the bed and tried to calm himself down as she spoke on the phone. “Hi, Abi. I just want to let you know that my water just broke,” she greeted down the phone, her hand finding its way to Adrian’s head so she could scratch his head to help ease him.

Abigale explained what to do next, then cheerfully enquired, “How’s Adrian reacting?”

“He’s having a hard time breathing,” Y/N joked. Adrian looked up, his eyes full of hope and fear, and gave her a thumbs-up to indicate that he was okay.

“Least he’s conscious enough to drive you here,” Abi retorted with a laugh. “Make sure to get here when the contractions get closer together.”

With that, she hung up and tried to help her husband calm down. With a chuckle, she began to carefully massage his shoulders and back, which helped him breathe a little better. “Fuck,” he said when he had himself together. “This should be the other way around.”

“Just wait for my real contractions to start,” she explained, wiping some sweaty curls off his forehead. “This is nothing compared to what I’ll be like.”

In a serious tone, he replied, “I’m scared.”

“I’m not,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile. “You’re going to do great. The best, actually. We’ve faced worse than a baby.”

That got a laugh out of him. “I don’t even have to do anything. You’re the one who has to push the little blob out.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his chest, then warned, “Don’t kiss me. My boner just went down and I don’t want to have to deal with the whole contraction thing whilst being rock hard.”

Luckily for him, two hours later when her contractions finally started to become more frequent as she was in the transitional phase, he didn’t have an erection and was fully ready (well, as ready as he could be) to deal with them.

They made it to the hospital without much hassle. While he drove, he took her hand and reminded her, “Deep breaths. Take deep breaths.”

“I know how to fucking breathe!” She yelled back. He didn’t take his gaze off the road as she squeezed his hand when the sensations became painful. “Fuck. Should’ve let you cum literally anywhere else.”

“I think I’ve cum on every part of your body so that argument is kind of invalid,” he stated back then and wished he’d never said anything when he glanced over at the glare she was giving him.

They made it inside and were ushered into a delivery room. It was quickly becoming apparent that it was pushing time. And fuck, did it hurt. For Y/N and Adrian, as she was clamping down hard on his hand. “You’re so sweaty,” he pointed out, his voice a rasp, then joked in the hope of making her laugh, “It looks really sexy. It gives you a 'just hopped off splash mountain and now I’ve got to fight a Xenomorph’ look.”

It did make her laugh. “Shut the fuck up,” she chuckled out. The midwives also seemed to find the interaction humorous, as they couldn’t help but smile at the couple.

Everything went to plan until the doctor told Adrian that the baby was crowning and he took a peek. His eyes went wide, then rolled to the back of his head as he passed out in his seat at the sight. Clearly, the nurses were used to this, as they continued as if this were normal. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at him. This guy had murdered a countless number of people and wasn’t squeamish in the slightest but passed out when she was the one in pain. It was actually quite sweet. He quickly woke up and started encouraging her again.

The midwives got to work, and after about 80 minutes of pushing, Y/N found herself with a whiny little baby boy in her arms. Their little guy looked like an alien: he was all red and blotchy and weird-looking. Still, she loved him instantly.

“Hey, little blob,” she cooed and tilted him so his father could see him. Adrian hesitantly went to brush his son’s cheek, but the baby held on to his finger and tried to put it in his mouth. “You don’t want to eat Daddy’s finger, do you?”

One of the nurses offered Adrian a pair of surgical scissors and asked, “Do you want to cut the cord or are you going to pass out again?”

“I’ll do it,” he mumbled, a bit miffed that he was being teased about that. He was still shaky but quickly got over it as he snipped the cord. That was easy.

Soon all of the palaver was over, and Y/N finally got the chance to sleep. That meant Adrian was left with the little blob in his arms and a big grin on his face. “Hi, Megatron,” he greeted plainly. The child stared wildly up at him and began giggling. “Shhh, your mummy is sleeping.”

Holding his son, he decided to lift him by placing his hands under the baby’s armpits and raising them slightly higher than his head and began to sing, “Ahh zabenya, I don’t know the words to this song.” He glanced over at the nurse. “Do you?”

“No, I don’t speak Zulu,” she replied, raising a brow at him before she went back to the task at hand. He didn’t even know the Circle of Life was another language; he just thought they were chanting nonsense. “Be careful with his head.”

It was at that moment that the baby began to cry, and Adrian had no fucking clue what to do. He just assumed that if you had a child, then you just instinctively gained a clue of what to do, so he looked over at the nurse and asked, “How do I stop this?”

“I don’t think you can,” she explained, then moved to wake Y/N up. “He’s hungry.”

“Oh,” was all he could say as he looked down at his son. He was so clueless that he handed the baby over to Y/N so she could feed him. He joked that, “Ah, he’s just like me,” when he saw Y/N breastfeeding. She jovially chucked the pillow behind her at him.

He couldn’t help but smile at her as he watched as she cradled his son and softly hummed to him. He was mesmerised, enthralled in a way he didn’t think was possible.

Y/N spoke to the nurse for a bit and inquired, “We haven’t thought of a name yet-”

“We have. It’s Megatron.”

She shook her head and ignored his comment. “We haven’t thought of a good name yet. Got any ideas?” She questioned, looking over at him.

The nurse examined the baby and came to the conclusion, “Looks like a Dorian to me.”

“Dorian?” Y/N queried. That could work. “Dorian Chase?”

Adrian liked that. It made sense to him. She seemed to like it too, as she beamed at him. Yes, he thought he had himself a winner. Obviously, Megatron was choice #1 but Dorian was a close #2. “It’ll do,” he teased before kissing Y/N on the forehead.

A day later, they were back in the privacy of their own home. Dorian was a bit fussy and giggled a lot, but he was happy and that was all that mattered.

The trio were all cuddled up on the couch when Chris knocked on the door and entered without being invited in. Y/N lifted her head off Adrian’s chest and called out, “Hey, Pissmaker,” which caused Dorian to start laughing. He seemed to laugh at everything.

Chris had brought them some food from Fennel Fields, which was greatly appreciated because neither of them wanted to cook, and a present for his godson. It was a small eagle plushie. A soft mini Eagly. “He can’t meet Eagly for a while because he will bite his hand off, so I thought I’d make it so he could,” Chris explained as he set the toy in the child’s hands.

The baby immediately tried to put it in his mouth, getting it all slobbery. Adrian watched with amusement as the attempt to swallow the plushie resulted in a huge mess. “I think he likes it.”

“Want to hold him?”

“My doctor said that my hands are so strong that I’m not allowed to hold babies,” Chris lied. He had no idea why he was reluctant to hold the baby. The kid looked normal. It definitely wasn’t a butt baby.

“Your doctor said that?” Y/N asked, completely seeing through his fib and picking Dorian off Adrian’s chest to place in Chris’s arms. The little blob stared up at Chris, then puked all over his shirt.

Chuckling, Chris wiped down his shirt and handed the kid to Adrian so he could clean him up. “Ah, the kid’s smart,” Adrian joked.

Peacemaker left them when Dorian started to get hungry. He bid them farewell and left with a grin on his face. He had to admit that he had a fondness for that weird little tyke.

“That is another thing that I love about this,” Adrian declared. “Breastfeeding means that you constantly have to get your tits out.”

“I know, right?” she agreed. She was beaming like a fool and couldn’t resist bringing him in for a kiss. “Want to put him to bed?”

“Fuck yes,” he replied, scooping Dorian up and taking him to his crib. He remembered the difficulty he had building that fucking thing, but it was all worth it. He placed Dorian in the crib and gently kissed him on the head before closing the door.

Over the next few months, it wasn’t odd to find Adrian and Dorian sat next to each other having an incoherent conversation. “I agree with that, Dory,” Adrian began, wiggling the little one’s arms. “It’s true that they’re your enemies. I agree that dolphins can be a little scary sometimes.”

Dorian babbled in response as if he understood what was being said, so Adrian responded, “You are totally right, my boy. It is the blowhole that is the off-putting part. Like, what are they hiding in there?”

Y/N knew what he was about to ask. “Before you ask, gay dolphins do not have sex through the blowhole,” she said as she walked in from her nap and took a seat next to her boys.

As soon as she sat down, Adrian got up and rushed to the bedroom. “What is your daddy doing?” She asked Dorian, who just made a silly sound back. “Uh-uh, he is a strange guy. You’ve hit the nail on the head with that one, blob.”

He arrived back with a present in his hands and handed it to his wife. “I got this for you,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Why?”

Had she forgotten? “It’s your birthday, baby.” The look on her face made it clear that she had no idea what day it was. She was too busy to keep up with meaningless shit like that. Adrian watched as she opened his gift and held it out in front of her.

Repaired back to its former glory, she examined David’s watch. It looked like it always used to. She had decided to take it off during her pregnancy, and that gave Adrian the perfect time to send it off to be mended. He was a total fucking genius.

A huge grin spread across her face, and she ran her fingers over the face of the watch. Before he could ask if she liked it or not, she pulled him in for a snog. “I love you,” she said when she let him go.

“Back atcha,” he replied. “I also got you one of those electronic typewriters, but it hasn’t arrived yet. So… did I do good?”

“What do you think, Dory? Did your pa do good?” The baby excitedly clapped his hands together. “I think that’s a yes.”

“That’s definitely a yes,” Adrian retorted and placed his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I can’t help being the best husband and father ever created. It’s just what I do. I’m the best.”

Where the hell did that confidence come from? She liked it nonetheless. It was very sexy. “Since it’s my birthday, how do you feel about Dory going to bed early so I can show you how much I loved your gifts?” She asked, tracing her fingers across his bicep.

“God, yes,” he replied, pulling her in for another kiss, which was stopped quickly when Dory made it very apparent that he needed his nappy changed. Adrian was on the case. He’d admit he’d seen some fucked-up shit in his life, but nothing was as daunting as nappies. “We’ll continue this later. I have to take care of my main man.”

As they walked out of the room, Dorian was babbling incredibly loudly, so Y/N joked, “What a turd,” under her breath.

Arguing wasn’t something the pair did often, but they never seemed to agree on the development of their baby. Adrian was always overprotective and never wanted them to try to encourage little Dory to do anything that he thought was unreasonable. “Ade, he won’t learn unless we teach him,” she stated, holding Dory by the armpits so he could stand, his little legs instinctively moving.

Letting out a sigh, Adrian replied, “Literally every piece of advice says it is too early.”

“He’ll be six months old in four days. He’s a sturdy enough boy to try,” she explained. His concern was sweet, but Dorian seemed to be a pretty fast learner.

“Maybe, but I’d rather not take that risk,” Adrian replied and watched as his son’s eyes widened before he dropped his butt on the floor to crawl towards his dad, who bent down and scooped him up into his arms. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her two dashing, adorable little dum-dums.

After making funny faces for a while, Adrian looked at his watch. He said, “Sorry, bud, I’ve got to go to work,” and placed Dory back on the ground. It didn’t faze the little tyke, who got up on his feet without assistance and walked to grasp onto Adrian’s trouser leg.

“Do not say I told you so,” he playfully warned his wife as she had a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she teased whilst getting up to give him a goodbye kiss. She lifted the little blob up and waved his hand as Adrian left for his shift.

Life carried on like that for a while. Each day, Dorian got more developed and talkative. His first word was “Cunt”, which they found very funny. Chris had made it his mission to teach him how to say that and was overjoyed when he called Adrian it. He’d taught him a few other words, and Dorian’s vocabulary of swears was increasing by the week.

As Y/N sang a lullaby to him one night, he burped and said, “Bitchface.”

“You’ve spent too much time with Uncle Chris,” she laughed, looking down at his sleepy green eyes. As he grew, it was clear who his parents were. He had Adrian’s nose and eyes but Y/N’s smile and hair. A perfect little mashup.

He was quick to fall asleep. Adebayo had brought her dogs around and he had been fascinated with them. He’d watched them for a long time, pointing with his chubby little ravioli hands, smiling and laughing when they licked his face.

Years passed and Adrian managed to convince Y/N to have another kid by swearing that he 'could feel it in his balls’ that it was going to be a girl. Strangely, it was. She had no idea how the absolute fuck he did that.

Dorian was a little shit. He was mischievous and curious and stupid. There was no doubt that he was their child. Just as Adrian had once asked, he somehow convinced them to get a cat for him on his fourth birthday. They had been walking home from the park when a ginger kitten ran out, so he said, “Look, Mummy, a kitty!”

She had been trying to explain to him that he was going to be a big brother but he seemed so focused on the cat. “It’s a fucking kitty, kitty, kitty,” he chanted, repeating the word like a robot as he walked alongside her.

Y/N laughed. They had gotten in trouble with his preschool because of his swearing. It wasn’t his fault; it was Chris’s. Stopping in place and lifting his chin so he’d look her in the eyes, a move she still had to do with her husband all of the time, she softly explained, “Dory, it’s fine at home, but you’ve got to stop swearing at school.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose and retorted, “Daddy lets me swear.”

“Daddy is a pushover.” They both knew that was true. She picked him up, knowing he was not going to willingly begin following her due to the cat, and began walking again.

A trait that Dorian had picked up from his mother was her ability to piece things together quickly. He was a smart kid, so when he argued, “So are you. That’s why dad is getting another kid,” she didn’t have an oppositional argument.

Instead, she just smiled and teased, “You little shit.”

Adrian had got home from work that day to find his mini-me playing with a kitten in the middle of the living room. “Oh fucking sick, a kitten,” he exclaimed and instantly joined in.

Dorian was having a ball, running around with the cat, who was purring and trying to playfully swipe at the boy with her paw. “I see you’ve met our new cat. What’s her name, Dory?” She asked. The name he had picked was very cute.

“Nemo. Like that movie Chris showed me.”

Leaving his son to play by himself, Adrian got up and bumped into his wife as she was coming out of the kitchen as he was going in. He immediately held onto her waist and kissed her on the lips, gently and quickly. She pushed him away and handed Dory a juice box.

“Where’s mine?” Adrian whined.

She took one out of her back pocket and gave it to him. He thought the fabric of her butt looked a little disfigured when he ogled her as she walked past him. “It’s been awhile, huh?” She teased, having totally caught where his gaze wandered too. It hadn’t been that long. Maybe a couple of days.

“Sadie and John are free this Thursday, if you want to have a date night?” He informed her as he pulled them into the kitchen to not scar their son, his hands slipping under her t-shirt.

“Oh god, stop.” She laughed as a blush rose to her cheeks and she playfully slapped his hands away when he grabbed at her bra. “That sounds like a plan.”

Out of sight from their child, Adrian decided that this was the perfect time for a make-out sesh with his wife. He gave her an eager, hungry kiss that ended when he pulled back. He realised that, “We’ve done the exact opposite of what I said we would.”

“What?”

Further explaining, he remembered what he had said ages ago, “We got married, baby, then got cats. We flipped it around.”

That was what he came up with when he first brought up the subject of a child. It was when her parents were still alive and stayed in her house. That felt like a lifetime ago. “Well, that way is more traditional,” she retorted.

“We’ve never been traditional before,” he joked. That was an understatement.

The pair pondered this until they were interrupted by Dorian, who held out his hand and told them, “I’m bleeding.” The kitten had scratched him.

His dad was on it. Adrian lifted him up next to the sink and washed his little boo-boo with such care. “Do you prefer Transformers or little hearts?” He asked.

“Little hearts.”

“You got it, little man,” Adrian said as he gently wrapped his son’s finger with the plaster.

“Did you hiss at the cat?” She asked. Dorian shook his head, but the look on his face gave it away. Just like his father, he was awful at lying. She took his cheeks and lightly squeezed. “You are so, so bad at lying, mister.”

Vigilante was rarely seen anymore. Maybe on the occasional weekend, since Adrian came home once with a huge gash on his chest and left a blood stain on their carpet. That was difficult to explain to a child. He got a warning from his wife that ensured he’d become more careful about his violent hobby. “Ade, you have to be quieter when you come in,” she softly chastised as she cleaned his wound.

“Sorry, baby,” he replied as he walked over to their bed to pick up some bandages. She rolled her eyes and went back to tending to his cut. Despite how many times she had done this, she never got used to it. And he never got used to the pain. But they got through it like they always did and ended the process with a comforting kiss.

Straddling him, she moved his head so he’d stop looking at her tits and reiterated, “Seriously, pookie, you have to be smarter about things these days.” She didn’t want him to act like a dumbass from now on. Well, a dumbass when he fought. It had caused enough trouble to their lives.

“I’m trying,” he replied, exasperated.

It was nice to feel his strong arms around her. Even though they’d been together for quite a while now, she felt as she did before everything had happened. Before the kids. Before the patricide and matricide. Before the kidnappings. Before everything. “Keep trying,” she said. She tried to keep a neutral expression, but he could see the pleading in her eyes. “I don’t want you to-”

“I know,” he interrupted her. He knew that look, and he loved her even more for it. He stroked her hair and whispered, “I know.”

“Want to fuck?”

Was that even a question she needed to ask anymore? “Always.”

Her apartment was no longer big enough to hold their growing family and Adrian had sold his family home years before so they had to move. Much to Chris’s dismay (that’s how he phrased it), their new home was much closer to Peacemaker’s house.

This also meant that Adrian could notice just how often Emilia visited Chris. It was a lot. Too much for 'just friends’. It was around the same amount of times that Adrian had invited himself over to Y/N’s when they were 'just friends’.

Being around 6 months meant that Y/N was huge so when she tried to help carry their belongings into the house, Adrian swooped in and took the box from her hands. “Ade, I can carry things. My arms aren’t affected,” she reminded him.

“I know, but I like carrying things for you,” he said as he made his way inside. He set the box down and smiled. “Plus, I don’t trust you to not drop my precious belongings.”

“What precious belongings?”

Sure, he owned some memorabilia and dorky figurines and shit but, honestly, he didn’t really give much of a shit about material things. But he could use her inquiry to be suave. “The only precious belonging I have is you,” he flirted, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “And Dory, of course. And our new blob.”

As he pulled her in closer, he could feel her relax. Moving houses is stressful. So is being pregnant. Double stress. He was just happy that he could relieve some of that. Despite how at ease he was making her, she still teased, “I belong to you? I’m not my own person?”

He grinned and kissed her temple. “I own you. You’re all mine.”

“Wow, and I thought you said you were a feminist,” she joked as her hand came up to lightly play with his hair.

Checking his watch, he mentally cursed and whispered in her ear, “If Chris wasn’t just about to arrive after picking Dory up from school, I’d bend you over these boxes.”

Children are such cockblocks. Her arousal shot through the roof, and she blushed, but no, they couldn’t. That would be irresponsible. And would probably end up with one scarred child and one scarred Peacemaker. Instead, she just turned around and kissed Adrian; that would have to do for now.

She tried to only give him a light peck, but (like usual), he wanted more. And, like usual, he didn’t give her time to argue. His tongue invaded her mouth, and all she could do was reciprocate. She always gave in so easily when it came to him.

Just as his hands made their way down to her ass, they heard a little voice say, “Ew, gross,” followed by a bigger voice that repeated the same sentiment. The pair instantly broke apart and saw that they hadn’t closed the front door. Chris had Dorian on his shoulders as they looked in, both with disgusted looks on their faces.

“Hey, bud, want to see your new room?” Adrian asked, as if nothing had happened. The boy nodded and Chris lifted him down so he could follow his dad further into the house.

As they walked, Dory looked up and stated, “Why were you attacking mummy with your mouth?” Adrian had no idea what to say to that. He looked back at his wife and shrugged. Maybe the birds and bees talk would have to happen sooner than he had planned.

Their baby girl had a quicker labour process than Dorian, which Y/N was extremely thankful for. Adrian didn’t pass out that time and was very proud of himself because of that. Within a couple of hours, Y/N was holding her little girl, who had a loud cry as she entered the world. Now that summed her up: loud.

Dorian had been a fairly quiet baby so they were barely prepared for the ear-splitting cries that emanated from such a small being. It was quite uncomfortable to bear and the shrill abruptness of it often caused Y/N to wince. Nonetheless, they persevered.

When she was first introduced to Dorian, he asked, “What is it?”

“It’s your sister, kiddo,” Adrian explained. He thought Dorian would know that. Y/N had given him a very juvenile walkthrough of what pregnancy was and he had seemed like he understood what she said. Dorian didn’t reply. He just sat there staring at his sister with the biggest, most curious, most interested eyes, almost as if she were a new species.

Finally, he asked, “What’s her name?”

“Dawn.” Adrian had picked it. It was his mother’s name.

Little Dawn kept the whole family on their incredibly tired toes for the next couple of months. As a way to let him get some sleep, Dorian stayed at John’s house for a few days. John seemed an odd choice at first, but it was because he was the only one available. Leota had gone to a dog show across the country. Chris was on a mission. And Emilia refused to have a child running around in her apartment. Anyway, Dorian seemed to like it, as he came back with one of Economos’s spare Gameboys, which he found incredibly entertaining.

After successfully getting Dawn to fall asleep by reading one of her novels to the child, Y/N watched as her husband flipped through a photo album, stroking Nemo with his other hand. Adrian didn’t do it very often. He only did it when he realised he was just about to forget their faces. “I know you’re there,” he declared. The sound caused the cat to jump off the sofa and scutter to her bed in the kitchen.

“Can’t I gaze at my handsome husband without getting called out on it?” She joked as she sat beside him and placed a kiss on his cheek.

He gestured to the page before him and complained, “It always annoys me that it stops here. Right in the middle of the book.”

She brushed some hair behind his ear and thought about how that problem could be solved. It was easy. “So continue it. Put some of our pictures in it.”

How had he not thought of that? They had tonnes of pictures. “Oh, baby,” he began. Before she could register what was happening, he dropped the album on the table and backed her into the sofa. Leaning down to smooch her, he complimented, “You’re a genius.”

To add to their growing collection, she brought out her phone and ordered, “Pookie, say cheese.” The photo was not his most flattering ever. His hair was a mess and the bags below his eyes were deep. But she loved it.

That night, they spent their time scrolling back through the gallery on their phones and showing each other the little snapshots of their life together. “Oh, I’m definitely putting that one in the album,” he teased, showing her the nude she had sent him years before. Playfully, she reached for his phone in an attempt to delete it but he held it away from her. “Hey, hey, that got me through some really hard times.”

“Pervert!” she said in mock outrage, keeping her voice quiet enough to not wake the baby.

Adrian soon filled his photo album with stupid pictures of his family. The album quickly became full, so full that he had to buy another one. It was a small thing, but it meant a lot to him. It was proof of their life, of the reason why he was still alive. He would look at his album and think, 'My life. Me and my wife. We did this. We made this.’

*Click here for my masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

If you enjoyed my work and feel like fuelling the next one, here’s my Buy Me a Coffee link - buymeacoffee.com/bippot. Entirely optional, always appreciated.

This is in reply to anonymous’s prompt:

Let’s Go!

Chapter 1

Summary: You’re minding your own business, when Adrian walks into your video game store, your wariness turns to curiosity as you realize that he’s not quite what he seems.

TW in chapter one sexual harassment/violence- it isn’t a reoccurring theme, but please be gentle with yourselves 💖🧜🏻‍♂️

✌︎

Winter is your favourite season - and days like this, overcast, thick snowflakes falling, were your favourite. You curse, as you brushed nearly a foot of snow off your car, as The Beaches blares in your pink, battered headphones.

You’re there, there when I need you

Oh my god, oh my god, do I need you

And if I’m too much baby, I’m sorry

You’re the only one who can hold me

You do a little sidestep to the front door of your car, dropping into the passenger seat, you reach up to brush the snow from your lilac wig, straightening it before you start your car, glancing at the little clay Switch console that hangs from your rearview mirror, with your work lanyard, that hangs heavy with pins you’d collected from different conventions throughout the Pacific Northwest.

By the time you roll into Fake Gamer Girl, Camilla is already halfway through cashing in - her long black hair is pulled into two space buns, and she takes a sip of her iced coffee.

“Sorry,” you mumble, locking the door behind you, “I slept through my alarm.”

Camilla shakes her head, “Riley texted me that she’s going to be late.”

You nod, heading towards the back room, passing under the fake flowers you and Riley had spent a weekend stapling to the ceiling of the small video game store.

It had been almost a year since you’d opened your little shop, that’s nestled between a laundry mat and a funky vintage store, and you were proud of your little shop - all pink and soft purple hues, filled to the brim with real and fake plants, and glittering fairy lights.

Basically, a ‘real gamer’ guy’s worst fucking nightmare.

Lex is sitting at the desk in the back, button press machine sitting on the table in front of her.

“Hey,” she murmurs, pushing down on the handle, holding up a purple button with Lucky Girls Get Kills proudly.

“When did you design these?” You wonder, running your fingers along the pile of buttons that sit next to her to go cup.

“Last night,” Lex grins, “this one’s my favourite.” It’s a small button with a jar, and small black text that reads 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 and you snort, as you head over to your locker.

“Is it still snowing?” The petite redhead wonders.

“Yep.”

You stuff your jacket and backpack into your locker grabbing your mug that’s nearly covered with pastel Stardew Valley stickers and you slot it under your Keurig closing your eyes as the smell of dulce de leche fills the room.

“Mm, that smells so good,” Lex grins, as she sets another button on the pile.

The morning is slow, and you take your time with the dusting, carefully wiping the console screens as Camilla helps out a mother and her two daughters.

“This place fucking rules,” the older teen grins, eyes wide as she accepts her bag.

“Language,” her mom mutters, handing over her credit card and you laugh, grabbing the dusky pink watering can.

You were bent over your collection of neon signs when the door chime rings.

“Shit,” a male voice mutters, and you immediately stiffen.

It hasn’t happened in almost a month - you’d been very intentional with your marketing, so any real male customers were a rarity, and it’s too damn early in the day to be dealing with another neck beard, and you grip the Lysol wipes in your hands as you march towards the front of the store.

“Hi there,” your voice is clipped, just on the right side of friendly (kill them with kindness after all) and you stop in your tracks.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the nerdy guy, with unruly curls and a teal nineties windbreaker somehow isn’t it.

“Hey …” He murmurs, eyes wide as he takes in the store.

“Can I help you find something?”

“That chair is sick,” the guy mutters, pushing his glasses up, and you follow his gaze to your pink Razer Enki chair, where Camilla’s cat, Mona, is curled up.

You quirk your head, “thanks …”

“Is it custom made?”

“Oh,” you shake your head, “no.”

“Does it come in any other colours?”

“We don’t carry any in stock, but we could special order one for you -”

“Does it come in teal?” He wonders, glancing at you.

“Um, no, the closest colour to teal Enki carries in this chair is mint green.” The guy’s face drops, “but we do carry a similar chair that has teal accents.”

“Sick,” he grins, and your heart actually skips a beat and you take a deep breath.

“Is that all …?”

The guy blinks at you, “no,” he laughs, like he just got caught doing something naughty, “I actually burnt out my game, and I was wondering if you carry it.”

Shit.

“What game?” You watch colour flush his cheeks.

“P-Princess Peach Showtime?”

Camilla snorts from behind the counter, and you shoot her a look.

“It’s actually pretty complicated -”

“I love that game,” Lex grins, securing a button to the wall.

“M-me too,” he shrugs, “I got stuck in the third Patissiere level.”

Lex’s laugh is a trill, “that one’s brutal.”

“I am not good at multitasking.”

“It totally kicked my ass.”

“I finally beat it, and it didn’t save.”

“Oh,” Lex pouts.

“That sucks,” you interject, and Adrian jumps a bit, like he forgot you were still there.

Which was honestly typical.

Lex is all soft edges, with an killer smile - she was an extroverted, unabashed flirt, while you were the black hole to her supernova.

Sarcastic, and abrupt (except when it came to your youngest customers), and there was a reason you dealt with the vendors and the stock instead of customer service.

You rarely felt bad about it - you’d paid your dues, working at Game Stop for nearly a decade, but you couldn’t stop your cheeks from flushing.

“I can show you,” you murmur, lips quirking up and Camilla puts down her iced coffee.

“Oh, uh, sure.”

You push your hair over your shoulder, “what’s your name?” You wonder, flexing your hands as you gesture for him to follow you.

“It’s Adrian.”

You tell him your name, as you gesture to the Switch section.

“So, do you mostly play Switch?”

“Yeah, in my secret room.” You blink, “but I used to play World of Warcraft? And Pokémon, obviously.”

You snort, “obviously.”

“Who’s your favourite?”

“Oh,” it’s been a minute since you’ve played, “uh, Infernape?”

His smile is blinding and you feel like you won a prize you didn’t know you were playing for.

“He’s the fucking best,” you grab a copy of Princess Peach Showtime, holding it out to him. “He was my starter.”

“Me too,” you bite your lip, “I was so excited to get Jigglypuff -”

“Ooh, I love them, they’re so sassy.”

“I used to collect them,” you blurt, “like stuffies, and the card from MacDonald’s?” You still have your collection, on one of the shelves in your gaming room.

“Damn, my mom got so fucking sick of taking me there -” you laugh out loud.

“I swear I didn’t eat chicken nuggets for like a year once they stopped the promotion.”

Adrian grabs the game from your hand, and your breath hitches as his fingers close around yours, normally you’d pull back, but you know he’s not trying to pull a move - since he’s not even looking at you.

“That looks cool,” he grins, and you purse your lips as he taps Bratz: Rhythm and Style.

“Yeah, it’s pretty simple. If you’re looking for something a bit more chill, I’d suggest Pretty Princess Party, if you like Animal Crossing.”

“If I like Animal Crossing?” He scoffs, and you frown, bracing yourself, “I fucking love that game.”

“I - oh,” you mumble.

“Look, I know this shop is for gamer girls … is it okay that I’m here?”

You immediately soften, “oh, yeah, of course.” You let go of the video game and take a step towards him. “Fake Gamer Girl isn’t just for girls. We created this store for a safe space for anyone who games.”

“Wait. This is your store?” Standing this close, you notice how green his eyes are, “you’re xx_lunaticmoon?”

“Yes.”

His brow furrows, “you changed your hair.”

Right. You weren’t wearing a wig in your promotional photos and you shrug, as colour flushes your cheeks.

“It’s a wig.”

“Shit, that’s a wig?!” He cries, “it looks so real,” he reaches out to run his fingers through the ends of you hair, before snatching his hand back, “fuck,” he mumbles, “sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you hold it out, “it’s a full lace, with 100% real human hair.”

“It’s so soft,” Adrian whispers, and you miss Lex and Camilla, peeking at you from behind the flower wall, where Fake Gamer Girl is scrawled in pink, neon writing.

He glances up at you, “do you have any games that are like Stardew Valley?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, “we have Spiritfarer,” you explain, “it was developed by a Canadian studio, and you play Stella, who’s a ferrymaster for the dead, and there’s a cat you can cuddle -”

“Hell yes!” Adrian cries, quickly flipping through the S games, before giving you a look.

“Oh, we must be sold out,” Adrian’s face drops, “but we should be getting our order in by the end of the week, if you wanted me to put one aside for you.”

“Yes, please, and if you could order that chair you were talking about before?”

“It’s actually cheaper to get it online,” you admit but Adrian shakes his head.

“I don’t mind, you know, shop local!”

Your laugh bubbles out of you, and you point towards the front, “I can help you upfront.”

Adrian looks a little bit disappointed.

“Unless you want to keep looking?”

“I’m already late for work,” Adrian replies, “but, uh, I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

He follows you obediently to the front, and you head to the computer as he stops by the sticker wall and Camilla shoots you a look as she straightens the prints you keep on the table next to the cash register.

“Shut up,” you mutter, quickly signing in.

“These are awesome,” Adrian calls.

“I made some of them,” Lex grins, gesturing to the section of holographic stickers.

“Sick - which ones?”

You quickly pull up the Vonesse catalogue, selecting the correct style and colour, and when you glance up, Adrian is waiting patiently, and you notice the Protect Trans Youth on top of the large selection he’d chosen (including every single one of Lex’s stickers).

“So,” Adrian murmurs, leaning against the counter, “what games do you play?”

“Oh, Spiritfarer is one of my favourites, and of course Stardew Valley,” you tuck his stickers into a little zip lock bag, printed with bows, “I love Fallout -” you look up at him, “’New Vegas’,” you say in unison, “although Fallout four is also good.” You brush your hair behind your ear, “sometimes I dabble in Left 4 Dead 2.”

“Really? I’ll keep an eye out for your username.”

“Okay,” you nod, telling him the total and he doesn’t even blink as he pulls out his wallet - it’s vinyl and teal, and looks like it’s from the 80s.

“Thanks.”

“Um, what’s your number?” You wonder, and Adrian freezes, as the machine beeps to remind him that he left his card in the reader.

“For the order,” you clarify, and you know your face is the same shade as Camilla’s matte red lipstick.

“Oh,” Adrian’s laugh is loud, and goofy, “it’s 202-568-0001,” he grabs his bag, “w-what’s yours?”

“Sorry?”

“Just like … if you wanted to plan a game night?”

You bite your lip, as Camilla watches you.

“Give me your receipt,” you mutter, quickly scrawling your number, before handing it back to him.

“Thanks,” he grins, “I’ll, uh, text you later.”

“Okay.”

You watch him leave and Lex pounces as soon as the door clicks shut.

“What was that?” She shrieks, slapping her hands on the counter.

“What?” You retort, feigning ignorance.

“That,” Camilla laughs, “we just watched a fucking 'meet cute’ in real time!”

“Oh my god, you did not!”

“Hm,” Lex sighs, “he was adorable.”

“Okay -”

“You let him touch your hair!”

“Okay, I let him touch my wig.”

Lex rolls her eyes, “you don’t let me touch your wigs!”

“Yes, because you melted my Lavender Frose -”

“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t heat friendly?!”

“By asking, bitch!” You snap, without any real heat. “Besides, he bought all of your stickers.”

“They’re six for ten dollars,” she retorts, “and I can’t help that I make good stickers.”

Camilla sighs your name, and you give her a look, “you gave him your number.”

“For gameplay!”

Camilla’s laugh is a cackle, “girl, that was an excuse.”

“It wasn’t.”

Lex snaps her gum, “it totally was.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already texted you.”

“My phone’s in the back -”

“I’ll get it!” Lex calls as the front door chimes, and you school your face, staring at the two young men standing in front of you.

“Hi, welcome in -”

“I fucking told you,” the shorter one scoffs.

“Can we help you find something?” Camilla wonders, narrowing her eyes.

“Yeah …” the guy chuckles, “my fucking dick, I swear, I grew a fucking vag just walking in here.”

“That’s cute,” you quip, “have you checked if your dick is up your ass?”

The shorter guy laughs, as his friend’s eyes narrow. “I was joking, you don’t have to be a fucking bitch about it.”

“Get out,” you point towards the door, “now, or I’m calling the police.”

“Fucking do it,” the guy growls, raking his eyes over you, “slut.”

“She asked you to leave.”

You gasp, seeing Adrian standing in the doorway.

“Who the fuck are you?” The short guy laughs.

“The guy who’s fucking your mom, while you jerk off in the next room.”

Camilla shrieks, as the short guy barrels forward, and you watch as Adrian easily ducks his clumsy punk, quickly grabbing his hand, to yank it back into an arm bar.

“They asked you to leave,” Adrian snarls, as the man whimpers in fear.

“Jesus, fuck!” The taller guy yells, reaching down to swipe the prints and little figurines onto the floor, and you close your eyes, expecting to hear the sound of a scuffle, and you flinch when the door chimes as the two men flee the store.

“Are you okay?” You jump at the sound of Adrian’s voice, and you nod, opening your eyes.

“Y-yes,” Camilla replies, and you nod, heart pounding in your throat.

“I forgot to grab a flyer,” Adrian explains, “sorry about that …”

Camilla shakes her head, “no, thank you so much.”

“What happened?!” Lex cries, gripping your phone in her hands.

“Some fucking losers decided to be a problem,” Adrian explains as you swallow.

“I need some air,” you blurt, slipping past Camilla to grab your phone, before you dash to the back room.

“Fuck!” You yell, wrenching open your locker to grab your jacket, shrugging it on before you shoulder open the back door.

“Fuck,” you whisper, fumbling in your pocket for your vape, and you drop onto the curb - ignoring the bite of snow through your jeans, as you take a quick puff.

“Hey.”

You jump, and your vape skitters across the ground as you glance up at Adrian.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” you snap, crossing your arms, trying and failing to take a deep breath.

“Shit,” Adrian grunts, slipping a bit as he makes his way over to you. “I think you’re having a panic attack.”

“N-no shit,” you gasp, curling into yourself.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “look at me.”

His face swims in front of you as tears fill your eyes.

“Can I touch you?”

You nod, and he smiles, resting his hand on your knee, and you look at him, as black dots dance across the edge of your vision.

“Tell me five things you can see.”

You shake your head, “I-I c-can’t -” you insist, and Adrian tightens his grip.

“Have you heard of 'pizza breaths’?”

You nod, it was listed on the breathing exercises your therapist had e-mailed you, and you hold up your hand, managing to take a short breath, before letting it out.

“There you go,” he nods, and this time he takes a deep breath with you, and you do your best to match him, and with your third breath, the black dots finally start to recede.

“Dumpster,” you whisper, scanning the parking lot, “fire hydrant, blue spruce … Pigeons and an empty bag of Doritos?”

“Good, what are four things you can touch?”

You reach up, “my hair, the snow,” you reach out, stopping just short of touching him, and he shifts, reaching his left arm up, so you’re touching him. “You, and my lips …”

Adrian’s eyes drop to mouth, and you swallow, finally managing to take a full breath, before listing off three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and finally, one thing you can taste. “White grape,” you breath, watching the smoke curl between you.

“Does that happen a lot?” Adrian wonders a few minutes later, dropping beside you on the curb.

“Not for a while,” you mutter, drawing a line in the snow with the toe of your boot. “It’s why I started my own store.” You take another pull of your vape, before holding it out to him, and you watch him take a delicate puff. “I worked at Game Stop for years.”

Adrian made a face, “I fucking hate Game Stop,” Adrian grunts, “I’m so glad you opened Fake Gamer Girl, because Dave can eat my ass.”

You snort a laugh - Dave was your old manager, who hired you because corporate was 'breathing down his neck’, assuring you that it was okay that you weren’t 'really a gamer’.

He’d swung by the store, during your grand opening making an appearance for the local paper before immediately dipping out.

“You didn’t really forget to grab a flyer, did you?”

Adrian’s eyes widen, and you quirk your head.

“No, I saw those fucking creeps heading into the store, so I followed them -”

“You didn’t have to do that, I could’ve called the cops -”

“Do the cops actually help?”

“Yeah, I mean, they escort them off of the premises and issue them a trespassing warning - so at least there’s a paper trail.”

“Does it make you feel safe?”

“No,” you admit.

Adrian’s brow furrows, “well … You have my number. Call me if you need help.”

“Oh, no -”

“Why not?”

“Because, you … Wanted to play Bratz -

"So what?”

“You’re so soft -”

Adrian gives you an incredulous look, “I could’ve broken that guy’s arm -”

“Right, but instead you came and talked me through my panic attack.”

“I work for security, I have a black belt, I know what I’m doing.”

“Who do you work for?”

“Checkmate.”

Your eyes widen, “yeah, there’s no way that we can afford that.”

“It’s my company,” he shrugs, “I’ll give you the friends and family rate.”

You smirk, “is that what we are?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “you seem cool as hell, and I’m cool as hell.”

You hold up your phone:

Adrian nods, not looking the least bit embarrassed, and you roll your eyes.

“You’re such a dork,” you laugh.

“So?” He wonders a while later.

“Hm?”

“Left 4 Dead 2?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “no.”

You watch his face fall, and you feel a little bit guilty before you shrug. “Come over and we can play Spiritfarer.”

Adrian chokes, “w-what?” He wheezes, giving a hacking cough and you pound him on the back.

“Only if you want -”

“Yes,” he grabs your wrist, “fuck yes.”

Your scalp prickles as you blush, “okay. I’ll text you my address after work.”

“Okay,” Adrian nods, and you reach out, snagging his jacket to pull him to you, and he’s buzzing when you wrap your arms around him.

“Thanks,” you mutter against his coat, before pulling back. “Wait. Didn’t you say you were late for work?”

Adrian’s eyes widen, “yes! Fuck!” He yelps, jumping to his feet, “I’ll see you later!”

You tuck your vape into your pocket, pulling open the back door.

“Shit!” Lex cries, stumbling forward.

“Oh my god!” You shriek, clutching your hands to your chest. “What the fuck, Lex?!”

“I have to go throw out the trash,” her nose crinkles as she grins.

“Really?” You narrow your eyes as Lex scampers outside to throw the empty bag into the trash.

“Jesus,” you mutter.

“So,” Lex reaches out to flick the ends of your hair, “is it a date?”

“No,” you slap her hands away, “did you leave Camilla alone?”

“It’s dead!”

“That’s not the point!” You elbow her as you take off your coat, “you’re so nosy.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“I - it’s not a date, we’re just playing Spiritfarer.”

“Mhmm,” the redhead quips, “he’s going to ferry those spirits right into that pussy!”

“Alexis!” You yell, flinging your jacket onto the floor, chasing her into the store.

“They’re playing Spiritfarer!” Lex declares, and Camilla’s face brightens, and she claps her hands.

“Get it girl!”

“Ugh,” you grumble, dropping your face into your hands. “It’s not a date!”

“What’s not a date?” Riley wonders, peeking up from where she’s still cleaning up the mess those two short dicks had made.

“Adrian,” Camilla grins, handing a bag to a woman, who’s wearing a long black parka. “Curly hair, glasses, really intense?”

“Shit, do you mean Adrian Chase?” Riley wonders.

“I don’t know, we didn’t exchange last names.”

She grins, “we used to work together.”

“At Fennel Fields?” Camilla wonders.

“Yeah, he’s a fucking weirdo -”

“Hey,” Lex snaps, “he’s the reason we didn’t have to call the cops today.”

“He almost broke that fucker’s arm.”

Riley looks shocked, “holy shit, I didn’t know he had it in him.” She glances at you, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, leaning on the counter. “How weird are we talking?” Riley shrugs, “Riley -”

“Not like in a cover your drink kind of way, but a … Doesn’t understand social cues kind of way?”

Lex taps one of her buttons, that says '𝖓𝖊𝖚𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖈𝖞 𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 𝖈𝖑𝖚𝖇’

“Not that that’s a bad thing,” Riley quickly corrects, “sorry.”

You grab your mug, taking a swig of your still warm coffee.

“So, if it’s not a date, what is it …?”

✌︎

I believe in munch! Christopher smith / peacemaker…👅

Rick Flag Jr X shouldve been a double agent for the SOL

Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: Peacemaker (TV 2022)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Adrian Chase/John Economos, adrian chase & adrian chase’s mother, Adrian Chase / Christopher Smith
Characters: Adrian Chase, John Economos, Adrian Chase’s Mother
Additional Tags: Babies, Pregnancy, adrian’s passive aggressive mom, Ableism, internalized ableism
Summary:

A brief fic based on idkmybffspock’s comic, here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81026181

Realised that this whole time I’ve been saying ‘I think Adrian would be really into dear Evan Hansen’, Good For You is just… the plot of Peacemaker s2. Truly the original leaving your gay best friend for a perfect alternate family plot