#zero venture bros | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marlynnofmany · 2 years ago

Text

Scary Stories in Space

If you’ve ever wanted to experience the rapt attention of bodybuilder-shaped swamp monster/goldfish crosses, who are equal parts muscles, fins, and floaty silk clothes with absolutely zero interest in blinking, then I can’t speak highly enough of telling ghosts stories to a pair of Frillians.

That hadn’t been the plan; it just came up in conversation while we tidied the storage hold. Our ship was going to take on a lot of cargo soon. There were things on the floor that needing picking up, which was boring, so we passed the time with stories.

As it turns out, Frillians love ghost stories.

“Then what happened??” asked Blip when I paused for effect. She’d frozen in place holding a wrench and a heat sensor, wide-eyed in a cloud of fluttering silks and fins, all electric blue and bright red and deeply invested in my story. Her brother Blop was her mirror in aqua and lavender.

“Then,” I said, picking up a crowbar, “When he went to let her out of the car, he found a hook on the door handle!” I caught the crowbar on my hand dramatically.

“Ohhh!” they chorused with a gratifying flinch, for all the world like frat bros watching someone get hit in the nuts. “Near miss! Oh, wow!”

I grinned and put the crowbar in a cabinet while they rehashed the very simple story to each other. I’d already told them a few others, and I was going to run out of stories before they ran out of enthusiasm.

Blip asked, “What do you think they did when they found that?”

With a shudder like a bird fluffing feathers, Blop suggested, “Throw it as far away as possible? Run into the house?”

Blip nodded, fins still flared slightly. “Maybe both. Then call the authorities.”

I walked past to collect a stray cable. “I don’t know about the authorities where you’re from, but mine wouldn’t have been much help.”

The twins discussed this some more, then agreed that the best response would be to run screaming into the house and lock every door they could find. Only then did they remember that they were supposed to be cleaning, and resume putting stuff away.

After three seconds of silence, Blop asked, “Know any more?”

“Maybe,” I said. “Lemme think.” I shelved a box and looked around the room for inspiration. No ghosts hid in this storage hold, though it had been home to many an animal cargo. The reinforced clear pen was still empty, and had been for a while — our cargos were mostly boxes these days. The door to the hallway stood open, and I almost had a thought about some doorway-based haunting, but couldn’t pin it down. I moved to stack a few stale tubs of animal food while I thought.

Then my cat Telly walked in, recently free to roam the ship on a provisional basis, and I had an idea. The fact that Telly had made a beeline for Blip’s spare overcoat helped. She burrowed right under, sniffing out the shrimp sticks that were undoubtedly hidden in several pockets.

Neither Frillian noticed.

“There was one story,” I said, watching them both perk up like meerkats. Fishy, musclebound meerkats. “The legend of the Pants With Nobody Inside Them.”

“Pants With Nobody Inside Them?” they dutifully asked.

I tugged at my own pant leg. “People where I’m from wear a lot of clothes that are shaped to fit our bodies, and have the same silhouette when they’re empty. Just imagine how creepy and unsettling it must have been for the first person to venture into a dark forest at night, and see the shape of another human — but only the bottom half. Walking … steadily … towards them.” I took slow and deliberate strides toward the far side of the animal pen, drawing their gaze away from the shrimp stick excavation.

“That sounds terrifying,” Blip declared. “Did they run?”

“Oh, you bet they did!” I said, jogging slowly in place, then speeding up. “But the pants ran after.”

Blop squeaked in fear, muscly arms bent to bring his hands to his mouth.

They had no idea how hard I was working not to laugh. “That first person got away, and so did the next. But it kept happening, and the pants got faster each time. People started to worry about going outside, and wonder about their own clothes — they’d look at a pair of pants on the floor, and imagine it starting to get up on its own. Then OH JEEZ WHAT’S THAT?!” I pointed through the clear walls of the pen.

Both Frillians whirled and screamed at the sight of — as promised — an item of clothing moving around.

Telly bolted in panic, with one shrimp stick in her mouth and several others scattering in all directions. I heard someone down the hall yelp, though it was hard to make out over the Frillians screaming.

“WHAT WAS THAT?”

“WAS THAT AN ANIMAL?”

“WAIT, THAT WAS YOUR ANIMAL, WASN’T IT?”

“WHAT WAS IT DOING IN MY COAT??”

I leaned against a wall, laughing. I couldn’t hold it back any more. “Stealing your shrimp sticks,” I managed. “Sorry.”

After a little more yelling and hyperventilating, during which three other crew members came to see what the emergency was, they finally calmed down. The rest of the crew was waved away.

“So,” Blip said, clearly determined to speak evenly, “How does the story end?”

I was still grinning. “Somebody makes friends with the pants. They were chasing after people because they were lonely.”

“What!” Blip exclaimed, fins spread and eyes wide, which just made me burst into laughter again. Blop echoed her.

“It’s a children’s story,” I explained. “I think the pants wanted to dance with other people. Or they wanted someone to wear them; I honestly don’t remember the details. But they were lonely.”

Blop shook his head. “Lonely haunted clothing,” he said. “Your planet sure has some memorable ones.”

Blip picked up her coat at arm’s length, and I couldn’t tell if she was looking for damage or ghosts. “Maybe it was hungry,” she suggested.

“I’m sure many ghosts like shrimp sticks,” I said, picking one up from the floor. “I’ll bet we could think up a new story about that. Maybe they’re haunted by the ghosts of the shrimp, mad about being eaten?”

Their dismayed expressions told me that such a story might ruin their favorite snack for them.

“Or,” I said, turning on my heel, “We could think up a story about a haunted… stun gun! Maybe it keeps a ghostly copy of all the people it’s stunned. How do you think a story like that would work?”

To my delight, Blip and Blop proved just as interested in composing new stories as listening to old ones. The rest of the tidying session passed quickly.

I take no responsibility for the nightmares they inflicted on the rest of the crew.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

(And yes that’s a reference to the Dr Seuss story.)

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #humans are storytellers #ghost stories #featuring the return of everybody's favorite space himbos #even though one's a girl #their species handles gender differently anyway #they definitely qualify #writeblr #writers on Tumblr

198 notes · View notes

plzu · 1 year ago

Text

crushed croissant - (Adrian Chase x Reader)

part seven← ☕️ series masterlist ☕️ ao3

a/n: getting to explore the difference in headspace of both adrian and reader in one chapter is soooo much fun summary: Vigilante is too busy with the Task Force to visit you at work. But when he finally does, he tells you everything he's been up to. You're not sure you like his stories very much. warnings: mentions of canon-accurate violence, the word "rapey" is used once, cheating in a broad/general sense (as in it might not be considered cheating to some, but would be to others), no y/n wordcount: 5.2k

Something in the air at home has definitely shifted. You've been waiting for your mother to snap. To blow up. Surely the fuse of her anger is due to erupt, explode in a fury where she hurls insults at you. It's long overdue, anyway.

But when you see your father sitting in the living room, or at the kitchen table, head hung in despair over a glass of whiskey, you get the sense your mother hasn't been home much.

Your dad has barely spared you a second glance since the day he yelled at you. Like all the fight has left his body, like he can't bring himself to care after your mother's own blasé comments that morning.

Maybe this -- plus your mother's seemingly sudden absence from home -- should be concerning. But there's this tentative fluttering hope in your chest over the tiniest taste of this newfound freedom that you haven't had since moving back to Evergreen. Like you can finally roam around your parent's house without trying to avoid them.

You still err on the side of caution, of course. But still. Being able to venture into the kitchen for a cup of coffee in the mornings without the heart rate of someone being hunted for sport has been a nice, welcome change of pace.

Maybe actual licensed therapists would disagree, but Adrian found blowing shit up in the woods with his BFF pretty therapeutic. Especially after said BFF has been in prison for several years with zero means of communication from the outside world.

Something about the morass underfoot, wet dead leaves sticking to the soles of his boots. That same soft earth cushioning his fall as he flung himself away from exploding dynamites (chucked by Peacemaker, aimed directly at him! Classic). Shooting various holes into appliances and shattering the glass of old blenders and coffee carafes, a riot and a comfort, the raucous laughter of two grown men being drowned out by explosions and swallowed up by the canopy of the tall trees.

It gave Adrian an adrenaline rush, the kind he can only feel as Vigilante. It reassured him that his place in Peacemaker's life was not being threatened. There's still space for him, this easy camaraderie. They still make a badass team.

A badass team that still brings chicks back to Chris’ trailer that they can share, apparently.

Adrian has never taken issue with bedding babes with Chris.

He's always careful to keep the Vigilante mask on, makes sure everyone involved knows not to even think about trying to touch his face. Getting his dick touched now and then offered a sweet relief, even if the main reason he was even hard to begin with was because Christopher Smith was involved.

Mostly, though, Adrian just appreciated whatever bonding time he could get in with Peacemaker. It was one of those things that, in the beginning, was something he agreed to in order to grow closer with the man he’s looked up to since he was a kid, and show him that Vigilante is a real bro’s bro deserving of his respect. Earn his spot as the cool, kickass partner Peacemaker deserved. Well, besides Eagly, of course.

(And getting to show off how far he's come since his 'Thimble' days, even if Chris doesn't know it's Adrian under the mask, was a nice bonus, too.)

And so while Vigilante should have no qualms with sharing some brunette that Chris invited back to his trailer (which, like, totally understandable after being locked up for so long), it is Adrian that hesitates.

“I don't know if I can do this, man.”

Chris snorts as the uncertainty in his voice. “What, did you get a girlfriend or something while I was gone?” He smirks as if such a suggestion could only be a joke.

Vigilante looks at him. Hasn’t Chris read his texts since being back? Or listened during their special bonding time blowing shit up in the woods? “Dude, I told you! There’s the barista I've been seeing.”

“What? So? Did you guys have the talk?”

“Dude,” he giggles. “We both know where babies come from.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Not that talk, dipshit. Did you two establish a relationship? A monogamous one?”

Adrian thinks about the quiet way you called him your best friend. He also thinks about the way you've only ever touched each other with clothes on.

The way none of this establishes any sort of relationship beyond friends with benefits. Even if those benefits just leave him stiff in his jeans.

“I... guess not,” he answers Chris, a little unsure.

“Then you can still bone whoever you want, dude,” says Chris, the near-constant impatience clear in his tone.

“I'm not gonna force you, obviously, because that would be fucked up and rapey,” he continues, straight-faced, throwing his hands up defensively. “But there is a hot, underappreciated woman waiting for us to show her the best railing she's probably had in months. Honestly, maybe even years. That Evan guy doesn’t seem to realize how good he has it. So I'm heading inside to deliver multiple, mind-blowing orgasms, and you're free to join. Or not!”

Chris disappears inside his trailer, and Adrian is left outside with Eagly, who just stares up at him with its round, yellow eyes.

“What do you think I should do, Eagly?”

The large bird says nothing. Just cocks its white feathered head before tottering off the porch and flying away.

Adrian sighs.

There was this slightly turbulent, uncomfortable feeling at the idea that sleeping with someone would somehow be a betrayal to you. But Chris' words eases some of that worry, once again enlightening Adrian in only the way Christopher Smith can. You and Adrian have not established any sort of relationship beyond the PG-13 makeout sessions and hanging out at bars and fast food joints. And Adrian is no stranger to hooking up with people in a no-strings attached kind of way. Moreso as Vigilante with Peacemaker, sure, but Adrian has had his fair share of one-night stands purely for the occasional sexual relief.

As special as spending time with you is, way more special than any past random hook-ups Adrian’s had, he has to remember that you two are just friends.

And so, with a clear conscience, he steps into Chris’ trailer.

Going days without seeing Adrian's bare, open face is making you feel... withdrawal symptoms. Dramatic? Maybe. But the firecracker pops of color he usually brings with him has been scant, making the dreary monochrome of Evergreen bleed back into the cafe. It turns you slump-shouldered and sullen.

“Hey.”

Emerging from the bitter clouds of your thoughts and into the mundane early evening of the cafe, you blink back to reality and watch Ashe's concerned face come into focus.

“Is everything okay?” Their tone carries the worried weight of someone approaching a wild, wounded animal.

Are you wounded?

Well.

It feels like there hasn’t been anytime for you anymore, now that this Peacemaker guy is back. And it hurts, admittedly. Which is stupid, and you feel bad about it because of course Adrian is going to want to catch up with an old friend that he hasn’t seen in years. So the pain of your guilt over your selfish feelings hurts, too.

But you haven't had the chance to feel the warmth of his touch since the night that changed everything, and it’s startling to realize how much you’ve come to rely on it for your sanity. The longer you go without the feel of his heat pressed against you, the colder the days seem to leave you.

Realizing you haven't responded to Ashe yet, you force out a non-commital grunt and continue stocking and reorganizing the pastries for tomorrow.

This, for whatever reason, does not convince Ashe that everything is, in fact, okay. Their voice lowers into that of delicate understanding.

“Did you and Adrian... break up?” They grimace, seemingly afraid of the answer. “He hasn't stopped by lately.”

True. Adrian hasn’t been by to visit during the day. No more quick hellos before his shift at Fennel Fields starts. Just late night visits from Vigilante instead, before he runs off to his other best friend.

Your head snaps to face Ashe again. “We're not-” you start, but then clamp your jaw shut. An insecure clack of your teeth. You look away, avoiding their gaze. “It’s not like that with Adrian.”

“Sure,” they say, but in a tone that very clearly implies they're just entertaining you.

“Why do you even ask?” There’s more bite to the question than you intended, but Adrian as a topic right now is extracting some venom you didn't think Ashe would ever be on the receiving end of.

But Ashe doesn't seem perturbed in the slightest. Probably because they were the most patient and understanding person you've ever met, something you constantly marvel at considering their young age.

“Well,” they delicately--but persistently--tug at the corner of the packaged pastry currently suffocating in your fist. Your fingers unfurl to reveal crinkled plastic encasing a crushed croissant. “It just seems like you're back to the way you were before Adrian started coming around.”

You frown as Ashe tears open the plastic. The baked, buttery scent of bread infiltrates your nostrils. “How was I?” you mumble, voice notably softer. “Before Adrian, I mean.”

“Mm,” Ashe tears off a piece of the flaky croissant and pops it into their mouth. “Miserable. Grumpy.”

“You’re not supposed to eat that.”

“Not like we can sell it to a customer after your death grip.” They pull another piece into their mouth. Their dark eyes shine with kindness and curiosity, unphased by your halfhearted attempt at playing the stern manager.

Ashe is right, though. You were miserable and grumpy. Honestly, it's hard to remember anything about who you were as a person before Adrian reappeared in your life. When you try to seriously think back, it's nothing but bleak, mundane memories.

Truthfully, you had just been a shell of a person.

The excitement of successfully landing a manager position at the cafe had worn off fairly quickly once the stress of customers wore you down. Sure, it wasn't as bad here as it was when you'd worked at a drive-thru Starbucks location back in college. But the cafe was still fairly new enough to garner the attention of coffee aficionados and people that were just bored with all the things in town that they already knew about.

And there was nothing to alleviate the stress of customer service, not when the home you'd go back to every night was another huge source of anxiety.

You tried to numb yourself to it all, you realize. A defense mechanism. It can't hurt if you didn't let it, so you hollowed yourself out.

But then Adrian recognized you. He could have just come in that one day, gotten that large iced Americano and left forever (no way he would have come back to the less-than-stellar customer service you were doling out). But he said your name and remembered who you were and as terrifying as that should have been, you entertained his recognition.

Because it was him. Adrian Chase. No one of consequence, at the time. Who could the weirdo from high school possibly blab to about your being back in town? And, also, he was kind of silly in a weird, delightful way that you couldn’t help but want to play around with.

Besides, there was a certain way he looked at you that was intriguing, and would very quickly become chest-achingly addicting.

After handling a few customers, Ashe pipes up again. “Y'know, if Matty hears you aren't together, he's gonna try shooting his shot with Adrian.”

This only makes you snort. “Please. Matty wouldn't stand a chance.”

You catch the raised eyebrows on Ashe's face and immediately clarify, “he wouldn't stand a chance against Adrian's best friend that's back in town.”

Ashe pauses before their expression alights in understanding. “So that's why you've been so moody.”

“What?”

“You're jealous!”

“What? No. Me? Jealous of who?”

“The best friend you just mentioned,” they laugh. “C'mon, admit it.”

Admit to being jealous of the guy Adrian all but gushed to you about? Enthusiasm punctuating each giddy sentence. The way he practically bounced on the balls of his feet the other night, excited to meet up with him.

Pfft. Naw.

“You're worried he's replacing you.”

Oh. Right. Maybe you are jealous.

Because Ashe's words made you realize that Peacemaker isn't replacing you. You were the one replacing Peacemaker. You've just been a stand-in this entire time, keeping Adrian distracted and entertained while his buddy was locked up or whatever. You see that now.

That hollow feeling returns in the pit of your gut.

Adrian gets half his fucking pinky toe sawed off and his testicles electrocuted in one spectacularly fucked up night. And as if that wasn't bad enough, his secret identity gets revealed to both Peacemaker, and the ENEMY. Which turns out to be some kind of weird, fucked up space pigeon? Whatever.

At this point, he's pissed off at Chris for allowing him to get tortured in the first place. He could have at least tried to stall Adrian getting his balls burnt to a crisp by giving just a little info, maybe? Just a tidbit of information to potentially delay Adrian getting his most important toe being severed, probably?

Whatever valuable lesson was meant to be taught by this doesn't really go appreciated, not when the pain is still fresh in his junk and right foot. Not when his ego is bruised both from getting his butt fully kicked by the tiny green karate man, AND his identity revealed.

TWICE.

In a single month.

He's irritated. Cranky. No one is taking his concerns over his pinky toe seriously, which is frustrating.

To distract himself from the pain and anger, he thinks about you.

It's not even really intentional. Your smile just kind of emerges amidst the muddled annoyance of his thoughts, and it suddenly dulls all the aches. He remembers the sound of your laughter and something warm glows in his chest.

Adrian would very much like to see you. It's been days since the both of you have properly talked, let alone spend real solid time with each other.

But he cannot. He has a duty to Peacemaker that he has to prioritize, and it seems like this new team Chris is with needs him. And, well, it feels nice to be needed.

He cannot see you. So he spends half the car ride to Chris’ dad’s house telling him everything about you instead.

He can almost forget that half his pinky toe is falling off.

Adrian hasn’t responded to any of your texts. You just want to talk to someone about how weird it’s been at home. Well, not someone. Adrian. Just Adrian.

You hope he’s safe.

He could at least call you.

Why hasn’t he called you?

Adrian sits in a prison cell accompanied by nothing but the ugly feeling of shame. He thinks he may have messed up. Potentially made things worse for Chris by failing in killing his terrible, racist father.

And to top it all off, he's agitated his injured foot doing a (pretty sick) spin kick. Instinct had beat self-preservation in that moment.

Once again, the only thing that eases some of the pain are thoughts of you. Out of habit, he glances to the right, looking for the plastic cup filled on his nightstand with all the physical proof that he'd spent time with you. But all that's there are the bleak and dirty yellow walls of his cell.

The frown that's been sitting on his face since being brought back to his cell deepens.

Whatever, it's fine. He doesn't need it to remember what your kisses feel like. The warm press of your mouth against his is definitely embedded into the grooves and ridges of his brain. The taste of you -- bitter coffee, sweetened at the edges. The little sounds you make when he squeezes your waist, or buries his face into the warm space of your neck.

Time in the cell passes by quickly after that. He's rocking a semi by the time they let him out.

You stop by Fennel Fields one day during your lunch break, hoping to surprise Adrian. But he isn’t there. You ask the young hostess at the front if he’s working at all today. She just kind of shrugs impassively, boredly twirling a strand of hair on her finger as she tells you that he was a ‘no call, no show,’ which means he was definitely supposed to work tonight.

Her indifference pisses you off. Doesn’t she know that Adrian could be dead in a ditch somewhere? Doesn’t she care?

You leave before you can blow up at this Chloe chick (per the name on her apron). Adrian is, of course, just some guy to her. Only you have the pleasure (and the burden) of knowing that he’s so much more.

Vigilante gets bodily thrown around by a gorilla. And while it's cool that he gets to add 'fought a gorilla and lived' to his list of badassery, it would have been even cooler if he was the one that got to land the finishing blow with a chainsaw.

The chainsaw was his idea, too! So it just kind of feels like Economos stole his thunder, which wasn't very fair.

Venting to Chris doesn't provide as much comfort as he'd like. And while this new team seemed cool, there's no way any of them were capable of making him feel better. Not the way you can.

Thinking about you wasn't going to cut it after this one. Texting wasn't an option if it meant he couldn't hear your voice, and a phone call wouldn't give him the satisfaction of your smile. So Adrian will go and physically see you.

The burst of excitement in his rib cage is nearly suffocating. But, like, in a good way.

Really good.

Your thumbnail endures the worried gnawing of your teeth as you stare at Adrian’s contact information in your phone, wondering if you should call him. You want to see him. You had made the very resolute decision to keep him around, and now you’re realizing you may have to work a little harder in order to do so.

You’re alone in the cafe, after hours. Ashe has been spending the rest of their shifts trying to cheer you up, but to no avail. They felt a little guilty, thinking that they had some part in bringing you down after they made the whole ‘jealousy’ comment. There was an extra layer of glumness in your distant expression for the rest of that night and several nights to come that they felt responsible for. So they would insist on staying even after the shop closed, stick around as you finish up your managerial duties.

As nice as the company would have been, Ashe's presence would potentially stop Adrian-slash-Vigilante from popping in, so you did your best every night to reassure the barista that you're fine. It was only the slightly desperate tone in your voice that would convince them to leave each time.

So, like every other night, Ashe leaves. You lock the doors. You mechanically carry out your closing tasks until all that is left to do is turn off the lights and go. But Adrian, like every other night, still hasn’t shown.

Before the Vigilante reveal, you two would just text each other when you were planning on stopping by the other's place of work. But now, not only has he been unable to confirm whether or not he’ll be able to stop by, knowing that he spends his nights doing dangerous things makes you think twice about contacting him. What if he’s trying to be stealthy and you call him out of the blue, the ringtone alerting armed gunmen to his presence? And then he gets hurt, or caught, or worse, because of you?

“Ugh, this is ridiculous!” you bemoan into the empty cafe. “How much crime could there even be in Evergreen-”

You cut yourself off, remembering the night after the club and shudder, the hands that make your skin crawl when you think about them, the ugly scab on your knee.

A sudden, very specific knock from the front of the store has you yelping, phone flying out of your hand. It clatters somewhere behind you, but you’re not paying any attention to that when Vigilante is standing outside.

Before you know it, you're unlocking the door to the cafe. Vigilante walks in, careful to close and lock the glass door behind him, muttering something about the cold and you getting sick. You don't really pay the comments much mind — once he turns back around, you use both hands to tug him towards you by the straps (harness?) on his chest.

The action nearly unsteadies you both, him lurching from the unexpected suddenness of the movement, a soft 'whoa-'as his gloved hands instinctively land on your waist to brace himself.

“What was that for?”

The slight whine in his voice makes you grin. It's comforting. It's Adrian. Feeling him pressed up against you subdues some of the worry of losing him, of not seeing him the past several days, even with the hard discomfort of his chest piece against your breast. Even though it's rough, even though it smells like gunmetal and recklessness, the closeness is a momentary salve for your insecurities.

Instead of telling him this, or even something as simple and true as 'I miss you,' you search his eyes behind the red visor (incredibly glad you can see them at all). “Can you see me okay?”

“Huh? Of course I can.”

“But you're not wearing your glasses.”

“Oh! The visor is prescription.” You can tell that he's smiling, can hear the pride in his voice.

“Really? That's pretty cool.”

“Right? I think so, too.” His eyes squint, smile growing wider, and it makes a flurry of butterflies erupt in your gut.

“I want to kiss you,” you murmur, and you’re impressed that you manage to keep the desperation from your voice despite the way your heart hammers in your chest. You don’t want Adrian to know how bad you want him, you don’t want to scare him away.

He stiffens at your admission, however, and starts stammering. “I- we can’t- cameras, remember? My mask-”

“No cameras in the restroom.” You nod your head in the general direction of the cafe’s restroom, somewhere behind you and to the left.

Adrian glances towards where you gesture, not just with his eyes - his whole helmet tilts with the action, and you’re realizing there's something kind of endearing about the mask. It’s not as intimidating as the first time, or your nightmares. It accentuates his movements in a way you’re coming to find kind of… well, cute.

But he starts to extricate himself from your grasp, shaking his head. “I really- we shouldn’t.”

Before the rejection could register as painful, you press on, body following his as he pulls away from you. “Well, I’m done for the night. Slow day today.” (You say this like you didn’t take your sweet time counting the tills). “We can just go, get in one of our cars-”

Adrian groans. He gathers your wrists in his hands, the texture of his gloves rough and scratchy as he pulls your hands off of his chest.

“Dude,” you giggle, “am I bothering you, or something?”

“Yes!”

You blink, startled, at his outburst. The way his head swivels back to look you in the face, enunciating his exclamation. The smile slips from your face as the rejection finally sets in, and you yank your hands away from Adrian like his touch suddenly scalds.

This is it. He's finally sick of you. Or bored of you. The way you've latched onto him is finally wearing him down, and maybe he had some kind of guy talk with Peacemaker that's making him dump your ass, made him realize how pathetic you actually are-

“Are those tears? Why are you crying!?”

“Because you just called me annoying!” You hadn't even realized that tears had welled up.

“What!? No, I didn't!”

“Yes you did! You said I'm bothering you! That means I'm annoying!” You angrily wipe at your eyes. Your hurt morphed into anger due to embarrassment over your own stupid tears.

You're sick of crying in front of Adrian, he shouldn't get to see how weak and broken you really are.

“You're not annoying!” Adrian says, body taking on an exasperated, pleading stance as his arms stretch slightly out to his sides, palms facing out, as if to make up for the fact that you can't see his face. “I just meant that in the moment, you were a little overwhelming.”

You pout. It doesn't exactly make you feel any better.

“I don't know why,” he continues, “but you're really hard to say no to. And I just, I don't know, was looking forward to talking with you tonight. And if you kiss me, I’ll kiss you back and won’t have time to catch you up on everything.”

Your eyes widen and your heart skips a few funny beats. You're hard to say no to? Oh, that flusters you, makes you feel more special than you deserve and you smile, slow and shy and delicate as your cheeks warm, and Adrian's shoulders noticeably relax at the change in expression.

“Why can't we do both?” you ask, coyness laced in your voice.

“I don't think you realize how big of a distraction you are.”

This makes you full on grin. “Is that why you've been avoiding me?”

“Avoiding you?” he repeats, like it hasn't even crossed his mind. “I haven't been avoiding you, I've just been really busy with this new team-”

“New team?” you interrupt, eyebrows furrowing. He only ever mentioned Peacemaker.

“Yeah! See, Peacemaker didn't actually complete his full prison sentence- oh, yeah,” he chuckles, “by the way, I was actually locked up the other day, too. But not because I got caught! It was a deliberate choice. Anyway-”

Your mouth hangs open as Adrian continues to regale you of how his past week has been, and the group of people he's been helping out that call themselves 'Task Force X' or something. You barely notice the way he gently ushers you to a nearby table, carefully pulling out a chair for you to sit as he recounts the details of each mission (and a side quest? If you can call getting yourself purposefully arrested a side quest.)

He fought a gorilla. But it wasn't a normal gorilla, it was a super gorilla. You thought the 'super' part was a bit excessive. A regular gorilla could have easily wrecked everyone's shit, given that this group is all human.

(“Everyone on this team is human, right? No superpowers?”)

(“I think so, yeah.”)

He whines to you a bit about how some guy named Economos took down the gorilla with a chainsaw.

(“It was cool, but it just would have been cooler had I been the one to do it.”)

(You nod, very serious. “Oh, for sure.”)

He tells you about how he tried to kill Auggie Smith, the racist, retired villain that just so happens to be Peacemaker's father. This information gives you whiplash, but Adrian hardly gives you any time to process it as he moves onto the next thing.

The next thing being the torture he went through in a US Senetor's secret dungeon (what the fuck), where he endured getting his junk electrocuted and a pinky toe severed almost entirely off by said senator.

The senator also happened to be an alien? And he's dead now?

The senator. Not the alien. Peacemaker kept the alien (but don't tell anyone).

By the time he's done, you understand why there was no time for making out. This was a lot to unpack.

“So... how've you been?”

You stare at him. “What do you mean how have I been? Who even cares? Whatever I've been going through pales in comparison to the shit you've been through.”

Adrian tries to interrupt, but you don't let him. “No! Nuh-uh, my life is peachy. I still have all my toes. I haven't had any part of my body electrocuted. I didn't tussle with a fucking. Gorilla.”

There's a second where you just stare at each other before Adrian breaks eye contact first, helmeted head falling forward. “Yeah, true.”

“Adr- Vigilante,” you catch yourself. “Are you sure you should be doing this? It kind of sounds like Peacemaker came with baggage.” You think about your own baggage, grimace, then correct yourself. “Dangerous baggage, I mean. I don't like that you're getting hurt because of him.”

Adrian's head whips up at your words, eyes wide. “No no no, it's fine, it's cool! They need me!”

He says this all too chipper.

“Besides, it's not all bad! There's fun stuff, too! We blew some stuff up in the woods-”

You roll your eyes. “That's still dangerous.”

“And there was the threesome-”

Threesome? He's still talking, probably, you can't really tell. It just gets muted out by the wretched feeling that's suddenly tearing apart your heart and making it difficult to breathe.

“Wh- what threesome..?” The question rattles out of you, shaken and quiet.

“Huh?”

You look at him, unblinking, and ask again. “What threesome? When did- when did you have...?”

“Oh, with Chris and this 'underappreciated' chick he brought back to his trailer. It was just like old times,“ he cheerily proceeds, completely unaware of the mood shift.

How could you have been so stupid? Of course no grown man with an active libido was going to remain perfectly content with just making out in his car. Adrian probably got sick of you stringing him along (which, you weren't, not really but where else were you gonna have sex? Your parent's house was out of the question, and he wouldn't offer his place.)

Wait, why didn't he bring you back to his place? He lied about having a roommate, you know this now though he still hasn't admitted it.

You abruptly stand up. The chair scrapes harshly against the tiles before keeling over.

Adrian flinches at the sound, and immediately stands up with you. “Whoa, hey, are you-”

“Get out.”

“Are you mad? Is it- is it the threesome? Because we aren't even together, technically, so you shouldn't-”

This fractures your heart even further.

“I said get out,” you sob, no longer able to look at him.

“W-wait,” he falters, very visibly out of his element. “You aren't supposed to be mad. Chris said-”

“Please,” you whisper, and it is such a small, pathetic sound, full of hurt despite its quietness. You hide your face behind shaky hands, feeling untethered and lost and indescribable pain.

A long moment of silence expands the distance between you both, until, finally (because you are very hard to say no to) you hear Adrian's footsteps walk away, and out the front door of the cafe.

taglist: @whatevermonkey @hiddlebatchedloki @nobodys-baby-now @navs-bhat @afraidofshrimp @training4theapocalypse @abbaenthusiast @jediviolet @t0byisher3 @madhyanas

[ if you would like to be removed from the taglist, pls let me know! it wouldn't hurt my feelings, i 100% understand if you come to find it annoying or just not currently interested in the fandom. likewise, if you want to be added, i'd appreciate a reblog and/or comment/feedback ]

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #writing #fanfic #mine #peacemaker fic

105 notes · View notes