Summary: Adrian has built his life around you. Now, as adulthood looms, he has to accept the landslide it brings.
Warnings: Childhood bffs to lovers. Cursing, accidental boners. homophobia (not from Adrian) menstruation mention. masturbation mention loosely edited.
Based on the song by Fleetwood Mac.
Wk: 6.2k/ Part Two / Masterlist
Adrian Chase hates change. It’s something he’s known for years, yet he feels like he’s only just discovering this feeling now, watching the car drive away. He sighs, kicking at the pavement unhappily as he tries to resist the urge to reach into his pocket to pull his cell phone out and call you, and beg you to come back.
Adrian sits down on the curb of the sidewalk, uncaring that he can’t even see your car anymore. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to go inside. He doesn’t need to hear shit from his brother about how he’s a sensitive little bitch or some speech from his mom that change is healthy.
Instead, he stays on the curb thinking about what his life will look like now.
The first time you see Adrian Chase, you’re five years old. It’s the first day of Kindergarten, and he’s sitting alone in the fake kitchen area, pretending to cook for a plastic dinosaur. The other boys are gathered around a big bin of Hot Wheels, while the other girls are arguing about where Ken belongs in the glittery pink Barbie house. The teacher is busy talking to worried moms and taking note of which bus every kid belongs on at the end of the day. Your mother pushes you toward the other girls before joining the circle of moms who are talking about peanut allergies.
“Ken goes on the bottom cuz’ he’s stupid!”
“But then Barbie will be all alone!
“Who cares?!”
You turn away from the other girls, more interested in the fake apple that’s being fed to the bright orange T-Rex.
“Can I play too?” You ask shyly
Your gaze is fixed on the way his sneakers are green, matching the t-shirt he has. Messy hair sticks up in different directions as you wring your hands nervously together. All the kids at your daycare were girls, the only boy left after his dad got a fancy job. Are you allowed to just go up to boys like this? The girl you used to talk to in daycare said all boys were stinky and had something called cooties.
“Um. Ok.” The boy says, “You can cook for that one.”
You follow his pointed hand to see a little army man who is looking through a pair of binoculars. A few minutes pass before you realize you don’t know this boy's name. You look over at the name tag that each parent had put on their kid as they entered the classroom.
“Your name is Apple?” You ask, “That's kinda weird.”
“What? No! My name is Adrian. Like A-dri-uhn. He draws his name out, sounding each letter out the way your mom does when she tries to get you to read a book to her.
“Oh, that’s not that weird, I guess.” You shrug
Adrian is able to pronounce your name on the first try; he doesn’t mistake you for a fruit the way you did him. Before you know it, the two of you have a multi-dish meal cooked for the T-Rex and the army man.
“I like your shoes.” You say, noticing the way they light up when he walks
“Thanks. I picked 'em myself.”
Adrian is eight years, three months, and six days old when he gets Gut’s hand-me-down Super Nintendo. His first order of business is begging his mom to set up a day for you to come over and play Super Mario World with him. Three days later, his wish is granted, and you’re standing next to your mom, skipping into his living room, asking if he’s also got Kirby’s Dream Land.
You’re a sore loser. You have always been, but the fact that Adrian has won every round of Super Mario has enraged you.
“You’re cheating!” You whine
“No, I’m not! You’re just bad at video games!” Adrian argues
“You’ve practiced. That’s cheating.” You point your finger at him
“So I’m supposed to only play when you’re around? That’s not fair. You live like a million miles away.”
“I live three blocks away, you idiot.”
The argument goes on and on until Mrs. Chase stops you both, placing a plate of sandwiches between the two of you.
“Adrian, you can either stop arguing with her, or I’ll call her mom and tell her to come pick her up. We don’t treat guests like this.”
You grin victoriously; it looks like you win the argument. Adrian gives you a nasty look before shoving a sandwich into his mouth.
“Whatever.”
You’re ten years old the first time you hear the word. You’re in the girls’ locker room, getting changed out of your gym clothes, when you hear the whispers. Most days you ignore Hannah and Lauren’s gossip, afterall, most days it’s about whatever boy they think is cute. Today is different because someone new is the topic of their conversation.
“You know Adrian?”
“Yeah, the one with those ugly glasses?”
Hannah’s voice drops, like the next thing she says is something evil, and if she’s caught saying it, she’ll be in major trouble.
“I heard his dad left his mom for another guy. His dad is gay.”
A hushed whisper of giggles follows before Lauren speaks, “I bet Adrian is too. Probably runs in the family.”
You ask Adrian about his dad after school has ended. The two of you are lying on your backs on the floor of his room. A song you don’t know plays from his CD player. You remember the day Mr. Chase left his family. You were sitting on the couch, watching TV while your mom took a shower, when Adrian showed up on your front door step, ringing the doorbell like he was in mortal danger. You remember pulling the door open to see him, sobbing and incoherently trying to tell you something. It took an hour for him to calm down before you understood what he was trying to say. You’d spent the rest of your day with him locked in your room, painting his nails and telling him dads aren’t really all that, afterall, you would know.
“Is your dad gay?” You ask quietly, not wanting his mom to overhear.
Adrian freezes. The ball he’d been tossing in the air and catching over and over again drops to the floor and rolls under his bed.
“Where’d you hear that?” He asks in a small voice
“Nowhere.” You lie, thinking of Hannah and Lauren in the locker room.
Adrian squirms next to you before speaking again, “I think so. My mom won’t talk about it, though. It’s been three months since he left, and she still yells at me if I ask to see him.”
You nod. Mrs. Chase seemed sadder these days. You didn’t remember the day your parents separated; all you knew was that your mom hated your dad and that something happened where he lost visitation rights.
“Gut tells me I’m stupid for asking about him.” Adrian says, “I just wanna know what he’s doing now. Like if he’s okay, I guess. Plus maybe he’d want to see me or something.”
“Gut is stupid.” You say
“Duh.”
“Is it weird if my dad really is gay?” Adrian asks, “Like, weird for you?”
“No, I don’t think so.” You say, “I think people can like whoever they like.”
Adrian nods, “Me too.”
“If your dad doesn’t come to see you, it’s his loss.” You quietly say, “You’re really cool.”
“Thanks,” Adrian whispers
The first time Adrian cries in front of you, he’s 11. His birthday was never overly celebrated. His mom would make his favorite food and then a handmade cake. Nothing fancy but Adrian looked forward to it each year regardless. Adrian had started inviting you to said birthday dinners from the time he turned seven on and this year was no different.
You were sitting with him and Gut in the living room, waiting for his mom to finish icing the cake when the teasing from his brother starts.
“You’re 11 now, right?” Gut asks boredly
Adrian pulls his attention from the book you’d gotten him, a book all about owls that you’d found at Barns and Noble. He smiles, excited that Gut is even speaking to him. It seemed like his 19-year-old brother was never interested in him anymore. Well, unless it was to tease him or dunk his head into the toilet.
“Yeah!” Adrian grins
Gut lets out a short chuckle, “You two kiss yet?”
Adrian’s face is surely as red as the bow that you had taped to his present, “No!”
“That’s weird. Why would we kiss?” You snort
Gut rolls his eyes, looking at Adrian, “What are you? Some fag? You hang out with a girl every day and haven’t kissed her?”
“I’m not a…we’re best friends, not boyfriend girlfriend,” Adrian says pointedly
“Prove it then. If you’re not a fag like dad, kiss her. Right now.”
Adrian looks at you with wide eyes. Pushing his glasses up a bit as your face scrunches up a bit. You’re as uncomfortable as he is.
“What if I don’t want to?” Adrian asks as he stands up to look at his older brother who now looms over both of you. Adrian’s not interested in kissing anyone. Not because he thinks you’re un-kissable, but rather he doesn’t see the point in kissing in general. He doesn’t want someone else’s spit on his lips.
“You’re a fucking pussy.” Gut’s deep voice says, his hand comes down and smacks the back of Adrian’s head, knocking his glasses off onto the soft carpet.
Normally this is the part where Gut walks off to his room or out to his car to drive off to smoke weed and do whatever. Adrian normally watches him go and then sulks in his room but something comes over him. Maybe its the confidence of being a year older, or the fact that you’re still sitting on the couch holding his brand new owl book but this time Adrian decides to hit back.
You watch it happen in slow motion. After Gut smacks Adrian’s glasses off you watch your friend spin around and shove Gut as hard as he can. The giant 19-year-old doesn’t move much. Adrian is rather skinny afterall.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Gut grunts
You blink and a big fist slams right into Adrian’s face, bright red blood leaks out of his nose and you gasp.
“Hey, stop it!” You yell, springing up, “Mrs. Chase!!”
Gut’s hand lands on the back of Adrian’s head, pushing it into the rug as his blood darkens the fabric, “If you ever try to lay a hand on me again, I’ll kill you, you fucking fag.”
You reach forward, pulling on the arm Gut’s using to pin Adrian down, “Get off him, asshole!”
“Fuck off.” Gut pulls his arm free and walks right out the front door, slamming it so hard a picture frame falls off the wall and shatters.
“Gut?!”
You watch wide-eyed as Mrs. Chase hustles out of the kitchen but, instead of walking over to you and Adrian, she goes right out the door, chasing after Gut, who is opening his car door.
“Are you okay?” You ask as Adrian sits up, handing him his glasses, “We should get you some ice and tissues.”
“M’ okay. That was kinda weak for him.” Adrian mumbles
His stomach swirls as he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. Adrian lets you lead him to he bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet lid, he lets you fuss over his nose and tries not to think about anything other than the house fly that is flying into the window over and over again.
He can’t hold it in though when you press a bag of frozen peas to his face. Fat tears leak over his waterline, spilling down his cheeks and blurring his vision.
You’re standing there watching him blubber, and Adrian can’t help but think that this might be the worst birthday ever. Crying in front of his only friend and getting punched by his older brother for like, the third time that week.
When he finally manages to pull it together he’s slightly surprised to see you still standing there, frozen peas in hand. You’re giving him that sympathetic look you reserve for when you see a sad-looking puppy at the local pet shop. Does he look like one of those dogs right now? Sitting on the toilet, bloody and swollen?
“Do you wanna sneak out? We can go to the arcade you like. I got a five-dollar bill for quarters in my pocket.” You whisper
“Don’t you want cake?” Adrian asks. He doesn’t want any dessert. In fact the fight and the tears have gotten rid of his appetite entirely. His brain replays the image of his mom running after Gut like she always did, ignoring the way he was bleeding into her carpet.
“Screw the cake.” You say, “Screw Gut, and your mom.”
Adrian’s eyes widen. You’ve never said anything like that about an adult before. Frankly, Adrian didn’t think you had it in you. He laughs, a short breathless one as he nods.
“You biked here, right?”
You nod, a grin forming on your face.
“Good, let’s go.”
Adrian doesn’t really realize his best friend is a girl until he’s thirteen. It clicks one day when he’s laying on your bed, waiting for you to bring up some snacks so the two of you can read comics and chat about what movie to watch tonight.
You’re taking too damn long downstairs. Your mom was probably nagging you to do the dishes or something again. Adrian is bored so he stands up and begins to inspect your dresser. Hair ties and lip balms, along with a brush and a goofy picture of the two of you at the winter formal, clutter the wooden dresser. He grimaces at the outfit he’s in, remembering how itchy the fabric had been on his skin.
Then, something light pink catches his eye from the top dresser drawer that’s slightly open. You never wore pink, always clad in darker colors or old clothes from elementary school. Curious, he pulls the drawer out, not expecting to be staring at a pink bra.
It's different from the ones he sees his mom throw into the washer. This one is much smaller and there's even another that has teddy bears printed on them. Adrian is getting ready to push the drawer shut when you enter the room.
His name is screamed and a bowl of pretzels tumbles to the ground as you rush over to him, shoving him away from the dresser as you slam the drawer shut. Your face is beet-red as you whirl around to look at him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you weirdo?”
Adrian isn’t sure why you’re so mad. They’re just bras. He has no idea when he’s getting his, maybe his mom forgot he needs one. Gut has one as well. Adrian saw a black one stuffed under his brother's bed a few weeks ago.
“It’s just clothes.” He mumbles, fiddling with a loose string on his two sizes too big hoodie. Your harsh tone has him feeling self-conscious.
You weirdo!
You never speak to him like that. Sure, you call him weird, but never like that. Your voice reminds him of the other kids at school, the ones who pretend they aren’t talking about him in the hall. It sounds like Gut’s voice when he shoves Adrian down the hallway and smacks the back of his head when he and Chris are smoking in the living room. It reminds me of what his dad called him last time he saw Adrian before storming out of the house and speeding off down the street, leaving his mom a crying mess in the kitchen
“Ughhh,” You groan, “Just…go home.”
“I thought we were gonna read comics? I brought my new ones.” Adrian says, looking back up at you, “Iron Man and Captain America.”
“Why would I wanna read comics with a guy who peeps into my underwear drawer?”
That night, Adrian asks Gut and Chris why you were so mad at him. For once, his brother doesn’t yell at him to get out of his room.
“Dude. You can’t just do shit like that.” Chris laughs, “Girls don’t want guys looking at their bras.”
“But why? It’s just clothing. Besides, don’t we all use them? It’s like a pair of socks.” Adrian asks, leaning against the door frame.
“What makes you think we’re all wearing bras, you fucking idiot?” Gut scoffs
“You have one under your bed.” Adrian says blandly, “It’s black with lace.”
Chris and Gut exchange glances before bursting out in laughter. For the second time today, Adrian feels unwelcome in another person’s bedroom. Eventually, they manage to compose themselves, and Chris speaks, spinning around in a wheely chair as he does.
“Bras are only for girls. They’re for boobs. That friend of yours, what's her name, probably thinks you’re a creep now.” Chris says, “Trust me, you can’t just snoop through a girl's underwear drawer and expect her to be cool with it.”
Adrian stops at the corner store on his walk to school the next day. He buys your favorite candy and rehearses his apology for the tenth time. When he finally finds you in the hallway at your locker, he’s already forgotten what he was going to say.
“What is it?” You sigh
“I’m sorry for yesterday. I uh…I didn’t know what I was doing was weird.” Adrian says, “I get it now though, I think.”
He holds the candy out, hoping you take him back. You’re his only friend, if he loses you, his mom will probably try setting him up with some weird football player.
To his delight, you take the candy, shoving it into your lunch bag for later before closing your locker and facing him. You link your arm to his, walking toward your shared third-period math class.
“I’m sorry I called you weird.” You say, “You’re forgiven. But if I ever catch you snooping through my bras again, you’re a dead man.”
Jealousy isn’t a feeling Adrian is used to feeling. Frankly, he’s not used to feeling much of anything, but that's an issue for a later day. He’s 16 now, he’s got his license, and his mom’s Serbing on the weekends when she’s not working. He should feel cool, he’s got a car on the weekends and he recently got a new pair of glasses that make him look even better than he did before. But, instead, he can’t help the ugly pit that grows in his stomach when he watches Lukas Linzer hold your hand in the hallway and press his chapped lips to yours between classes.
“Are you sure he doesn’t have herpes?” Adrian asks when Lukas is finally gone. Thank God for football practice, at least he’s got you till’ 5 tonight.
“He doesn’t have herpes, Adrian.” You scoff
“Well, if you get herpes, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Adrian shrugs
You roll your eyes, stuffing your books into your backpack, “You’ve been acting weird. The past two months, you’ve been out of sorts.”
“Nuh-uh.” Adrian counters
“Yes, you have. Every time Lukas is around, you get all weird and snappy. It’s kinda the same attitude you get when Gut shows up at your house.” You point out
“That’s because Gut is an asshole, who let me remind you, last time I saw him, pushed my head through the bathroom wall because I flushed his weed.” Adrian huffs
“Alright, fine. Gut’s an ass, but Lukas isn’t nearly as bad.” You say
Adrian knows you’ve got him there. He doesn’t like your boyfriend, but at least he’s not putting Adrian’s face through a wall in his spare time.
“I don’t like him. He’s got nothing going on up here.” Adrian points to his head
“Oh yeah, Mr. I failed my chem test last week?” You tease
“Who needs the periodic table?” Adrian hums, “Not me.”
“Clearly.” You scoff
Adrian walks next to you as you slowly stroll through the hallway toward the front doors of the school. You let out a long sigh when he flips off the picture of the varsity football team that sits in the trophy case.
“Adrian…I know you don’t run the way I do, so I’m just going to ask you outright to do this for me, alright?”
“If it’s a tampon run again, I’m going to need a picture of exactly what you need. Last time was way too difficult with just verbal instructions.” Adrian shudders, thinking of how long he’d spent staring at a wall of menstrual products, only to get back to you with the wrong ones.
“No, no tampons this time.” You say, “I just…Even if you don’t like Lukas, could you maybe try to hold it together around him better. It's hard to be around both of you if you’re always being well…you to him.”
“So you want me to do what? Pretend to be friends with him? Last week he told me I looked like Napoleon Dynamite if he had Down syndrome. “Adrian reminds you
“You don’t have to be friends. I just like…Don’t make those faces whenever he speaks.” You say, thinking of the way Adrian would fake gag when Lukas started speaking
“Ugh, fine.” Adrian groans, “I’ll control my facial muscles for you.”
You snort, bumping your shoulder to his, “Thank you.”
Three weeks later, Adrian is comforting you through your first breakup ever. You’re curled up under the covers in his bed. Your mom had dragged you out of your house and dropped you off at the Chase’s hoping you’d spend your Saturday doing something instead of moping like you had been the past three days.
“I got those chips you like. Oh, also, my mom said she’s making that chicken dish you like and she’s letting you pick between pasta and rice.”
Adrian stares at the lump of blankets that you’re buried under. After your mom had pulled away, the two of you had disappeared into his room, like you did every time you were at his place. However, instead of Adrian getting to show you the new Pokémon cards he’d found at a yard sale, you’d climbed right into his bed and burrowed into the blankets.
Faintly, he can hear the sounds of sniffles. Adrian has never been good with tears. He himself doesn’t cry often, when he does it's always in private. Awkwardly, he sits down on the bed next to you, patting the puff of blankets where he thinks your shoulder is.
“I uh. Well, it’s probably for the best. Lukas was a total dickwad away.” He starts, “You’re too good for him.”
“I don’t get it.” You mumble, “Was I a shitty girlfriend or something? I went to all the football games and even brought cookies for him and his teammates. Then he goes running off to be with Lucy Hanover like I’m nothing.”
You push the covers off your head, staring up at Adrian with watery eyes, “I think it’s cuz’ I kept refusing to have sex with him.”
Adrian’s eyes widened at that, sex was always a topic he felt awkward about. He’d never found it all that intriguing. He’d seen porn, boys at school talked about it at lunch so of course he’d googled it. He sort of understood the attraction to it, but at the same time he didn’t. The guys at school would talk about porn stars they wanted to sleep with, but Adrian couldn’t imagine even being shirtless around someone he wasn’t close to. In fact, he’s probably only been shirtless around you, his mom, and Gut. Oh yeah, and Chris, but that was only because he’d walked in on Adrian changing a few times.
“Well, screw him.” Adrian says, “If someone can’t have a relationship without sex cuz the other person doesn’t want to, they’re the loser.”
“You don’t think I’m the weird one?” You sniffle
“Of course not. Sex is… overrated.” Adrian declares
“We’re both virgins. I don’t think we can make that claim yet.” You give him a small laugh
“Yeah, but I can totally tell that it is.” Adrian says, flopping down on the bed next to you, “I can’t imagine it. The feeling of someone else’s skin that close and all over me? Eugh! No thanks.”
You hum, “I think I’ll try it at some point.”
“Yeah, well, let me know how it goes.” Adrian says
“Really?” You airily laugh
“Yeah. We tell each other everything else. You tell me when you’re constipated.” Adrian points out, “I told you about that time I got that pimple on my right butt cheek.”
“That’s cuz’ everytime I tell you, somehow I magically am able to shit like an hour after.” You laugh, tossing your head back
“Exactly! If you can tell me about your shits, then you can tell me about your sex life.” He says
“Okay, Okay!” You giggle, “Whenever I find the right person, I’ll update you about the sex.”
“Good.” Adrian hums, “Twenty bucks says it’s a shitty experience.”
“Deal.”
Senior prom is two weeks away, and Adrian is still dateless. His mom has pestered him nearly all year about finding a pretty girl to go with. Adrian has spent his time playing video games and ignoring his mom’s requests that he ask a girl who works at the local grocery store.
“You’re so damn boring.” You say, kicking his shoe as you enter his room, “Do you spend all day in here jerking off and reading comics?”
“Actually, today I’m reading about manta rays.” Adrian says, “And, I jerked off like three days ago, I’m good for now.”
“Dude, way too much info there.” You scoff
“I didn’t even say anything about the manta rays yet,” Adrian says
“No, I meant…Never mind. Tell me about the manta rays.”
Twenty minutes of manta ray facts pass by as you lie starfish style on your best friend’s bed while he yaps from his bean bag chair.
“Hey, Adrian,” You cut him off, “Do you think you’re ever gonna grow?”
It was something that had been nagging you for ages now. Adrian was still looking like his 15-year-old self despite being 17 and a half. He was even an inch shorter than you right now, something you could tell he hated. His voice hadn’t dropped much and frankly, it seemed like puberty was skipping him entirely. Not to mention the awful Thimble nickname Chris had given to him recently.
“I hope so.” He says, “I can’t be shorter than you for the rest of our lives.”
“Yeah, that’d be embarrassing.” You laugh, “I bet I’m stronger than you right now.”
“Bull shit.” Adrian scoffs, “I'm heavier than you, remember.”
“That’s cuz you’re a fatass who eats like three slices of pizza and a cheeseburger each day at lunch.” You say, “You’re not stronger.”
“Fine, I’ll prove it.”
Before you can stop him, Adrian is flinging his manta ray book across the room and jumping onto the bed where he sits right on your stomach, “Push me off.”
You roll your eyes, “Alright, manta ray.”
“I’m not a-”
Adrian lets out a funny-sounding yelp when you flip him. Your hips push him off you and backward onto the bed. His head lands on his pillows, and you quickly move to straddle him, pinning his wrists to the bed with your hands.
“I win.” You look down at him, “Unless you’re strong enough to push me off.”
Adrian’s muscles flounder under you, and you laugh, rocking backwards as you declare your victory.
“W-Wait. Don’t uh.” Adrian huffs
You glance down again, this time face-to-face with a very red-faced best friend, “What’s wro-:”
“Oh my god!”
The sound of Mrs. Chase has your head whipping around. You move fast enough to see her slam the bedroom door shut.
“Use protection.” Her voice weakly says from the other side of the door, “Adrian, I put condoms in your nightstand last week, use one!”
“Mom!” He groans
You slide off Adrian, suddenly feeling awkward. Adrian is even worse off; he awkwardly coughs and grabs the pillow behind his head, stuffing it over his crotch before sitting up. Your face heats up, that explains what you felt under your ass two seconds ago.
Adrian can’t look you in the eye for the rest of your visit. He picks at his dinner and yells at his mom to stop asking questions when he asks if he’s dating you now.
After dinner, Adrian walks you three blocks to your house. On your front lawn, he stops you before you can go inside.
“I’m sorry for earlier. I can’t like…control them.” He weakly says
“I know.” You say, “We took the same sex ed class, Adrian.”
“You’re not weirded out?” Adrian asks
“It's just biology.” You wave him off, “You’re gonna have to do something really crazy to get rid of me, Adrian. Like, I dunno, join the circus or become some crazy mass murderer. Otherwise, we’re stuck together.”
Adrian nods, then, an idea pops into his head, and before he can decide if it's a good one or not, his mouth is moving, “Wanna go to prom with me?”
“Are you gonna wear a tie that matches my dress?” You ask
“Only if you get me one of those flowers for my jacket,” Adrian says honestly, he’s always wanted one of those.
“Deal.” You say, “You also have to pick me up and drive me home.”
“Duh,” He smiles, “What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t?”
It’s a muggy day in June when the letter comes. Adrian is mowing the grass for his mom when she calls him inside, saying there’s a phone call for him. He leans against the archway, sweaty and stinking of lawn care, while your excited voice streams through the phone pressed to his ear.
“I got in! They waitlisted me back in February but I guess something changed!”
Adrian feels his stomach drop. It’s like that funny feeling he gets on a drop on a roller coaster, the one that makes it feel like your organs are either going to fall out of your ass or some flying out of your mouth.
“That's great!” He finds himself saying even though he doesn’t mean it
“You wanna celebrate with me tonight? I was thinking we could go to that old arcade you like, get a buncha junk food from Walmart and then go to a drive-in for a movie.”
“Oh uh, I got a lot of yard work for my mom.” Adrian mumbles, “Maybe in a few days.”
A beat of silence follows, and Adrian cringes. He should’ve just said he’d be over to pick you up asap.
“Alright. See you later.”
“See you.”
The phone clicks and Adrian hangs it back on the receiver, staring at the wallpaper as his mom’s questions fall on deaf ears. He returns to the lawn mower, starting it and being extra careful not to run over any lawn ornaments.
His mind swims with what this news means, college acceptances. It was something he’d never attempted, not interested in paying 60 bucks just to hear that he was the idiot everyone said he was. But now, he was wishing he’d applied to school like you did perhaps then you’d both be moving to New York in August. But instead he’d be here, sitting in Evergreen while you moved into the next phase of your life without him.
Adrian Chase is many things. You’ve known him since before he could tie his shoes and yet, you’ve never seen him quite like this.
Your goodbye party is modest. Just some of your mom’s friends, a couple of neighbors, and of course, Mrs. Chase and Adrian. Adrian spends the party sulking under the shade of the tree in your backyard, the same one he used to lie under with you and spot funny-shaped clouds.
By the time the party is over, he’s drunk up four soda cans, eaten three plates of your mom’s pasta salad, and polished it off with a few of those peanut butter cookies you made. A sweet summer breeze flows through the backyard as you plop down under the tree with him, the sounds of both of your moms fill his ears, and the two of them are reminiscing as they clean up together.
“You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, Adrian.” You say
Adrian notices the way you’re sitting in the grass with him, the white summer dress you’re wearing hikes further up your thighs. He wonders if you’re going to have grass stains on you when you stand back up.
“No, I haven’t.” He lies
“Yeah, you have.” You sigh, “We’ve only hung out like four times this summer. Normally, we’re hanging out four times a week.”
Guilt creeps up in his chest. You’re right about that. He’s spent the past two months sulking about the change that's about to happen in a couple of days.
“Talk to me. “ You knock your shoe against his, your strappy sandals and freshly painted toes in stark contrast to his dirty old Converse that he loves so much.
Adrian watches his mom and your mom disappear inside, both of them holding plates of leftovers that need to be wrapped up.
“It’s stupid.” He says
“Nothing's stupid when it comes to you.” You assure him, “I listen to you talk about spiders, owls, manta rays, and crows for hours. Now, spill.”
Adrian gulps, swallowing his pride as he looks at you, “I think I’m scared. I just…I’m afraid of change. My whole life, it’s like…revolving around you, but now you’re going to be all the way in New York, and I’ll be here, stuck in stupid Evergreen. What if you forget about me?”
“Are you kidding? I could never forget about you.” You hum, “You’re my best friend, Adrian. Number one. NYU isn’t going to change shit between us. I’m one call away, and you better believe I’ll be calling every damn day to annoy you.”
“Promise?” Adrian softly asks
“Promise.”
Adrian helps you load your suitcase into the car. The airport is a good three-hour ride, and your mom is stressing over making sure her GPS is hooked up correctly. Adrian watches as she curses and runs back into the house, saying she’s going to print the directions “old school” style.
“My mom made these. They’re your favorite.” Adrian says, holding out a Ziploc bag of his mom’s “famous” chocolate chip cookies.
“Thanks.” You smile, “I’ll eat them while I’m waiting to board.”
You set the bag on the now closed and fully stuffed trunk. He doesn’t know what to do now, shoving his hands into his pockets as he rocks back and forth on his heels. Something catches his eye, though, he’s able to see over your head, something he’s never experienced before.
“I think I outgrew you.” He points out
You glance up at him, a smile on your face, “Took you long enough.”
“Pfft, yeah.”
Is this where he says goodbye? He doesn’t want to say goodbye in front of your mom; that’s weird. Is it too weird to hug you? Shit, has he ever even hugged you before? What kind of BFFs were you?
Ever the social butterfly, you beat him to the punch, wrapping your arms around his torso and squeezing so tight it feels like his eyes might pop right out and roll down the street.
Suddenly, Adrian’s throat feels tight. His eyes burn, and he squeezes them shut, resting his face in the crook of your neck, his own arms coming up to reciprocate your hug.
“Shit, I’m gonna miss you like crazy, you moron.” You say, your tease has no real bite behind it.
Adrian lets out an airy laugh, “Not more than I’ll miss you.”
Your grip loosens, and you step back, still in his space as you tiptoe closer. Before he can fully react, you’re pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, and the lingering feel of your lip balm registers in his mind somewhere.
The sound of a front door slamming shut has you stepping back. Your mother appears, printed directions in hand as she waves them in the air. You pull the cookies off the car, wiping at your eyes before moving to join her in the car.
“Don’t get too tall on me.” You tease him
“I’ll try not to, no promises though.” He snorts
You glance over your shoulder one more time before stepping into the car, “See you soon.”
He gives you a firm nod, not trusting his voice to hold out. The car turns over, and Adrian watches as the taillights disappear, making a right at the intersection.
Sitting on the curb, he wipes at the lip balm on his right cheek, smiling to himself when he sees the light pink tint it leaves on his fingertips. His voice is a soft whisper into the late August air as he sits on the curb in front of your house.
I think Adrian's mum was one of those mother's who was so boys will be boys coded and in her eyes the oldest never did any wrong and maybe that's why he's so mean to her? She didn't protect him when she was supposed to and he in turn is just so incredibly resentful? There's a scene where Chris explains that Gut just wasn't good to him and maybe I'm reading too much into it but his mother just seems very passive at best. I don't believe she protected him like she was supposed to.
Also this scene genuinely gives me Forwards Beckon Rebound vibes especially the lyrics "Villian and violent, infant and innocent." I feel so much of his obsession towards Chris is Adrian trying to have what he never got to have with Gut and its just really sad.
Summary: You were Adrians bully and worst nightmare until you graduated high school. Years later, you see him at a party and make up the many years of torture. Obvi inspired by the Sabrina Carpenter song.
Tags: 18+ MDNI, smut, mentions of grooming, underaged drinking, and creepy exes, no use of y/n, some fluff, reader is a bitch, oral male receiving
A/N: Unintentionally.... this ones for you Jae
“Just come out, it’ll be fun. You need to forget about that loser.”
Your best friend stands with her hands on her hips, eyeliner pencil sticking out from her clenched hand. She is right, it would be fun to go out. And, you need a distraction from the gigantic headache that was the breakup. You aren’t stuck on the guy – he is a douchebag who never deserved to lay his grimy hands on you in the first place – but he was doing everything in his power to make your life hell. Today, he showed up at your work to ‘drop off some of your things’ —two pairs of underwear —in front of all your coworkers.
“Kind of hard to ‘forget about that loser’ when he seems to be around every corner,” you tell her.
“You’ve been mopey all week, just let loose tonight.”
“What if he’s-”
“I guarantee you he isn’t going to be at this party. You don’t know any of these people, as far as I know.”
You sigh and swivel back towards the mirror in your plush chair. Your friend makes a compelling case. Meeting a bunch of new people would be a good distraction. Your friend has been hanging out with this older guy for a few weeks now. He invited her and a plus one to this party, which he described as ‘lowkey, just a few people, a bonfire party, just beer and laughs.’ But you’ve been around the block with these so-called bonfire parties; it’s always a huge mess of wannabe country boys harassing the girls. That part, the chance of being bothered by another guy, is what holds you back.
“Look, let’s just go for a bit. If you aren’t having fun, we’ll leave.” She really does seem to like this guy, even if the Evergreen dating pool is questionable at best. If nothing else, you can at least keep an eye on her while she fools around with this prospect of hers.
“Fine,” you sigh, grabbing the mascara on your vanity.
Your friend pulls up next to a rusted white pickup truck from before the invention of grunge music. The bonfire flames are already licking the air, sending a warm glow across the field. A single-wide trailer home faces the fire, and its illuminated porch is lined with coolers.
“Oh fuck me,” you mutter. “It is going to be a bunch of wannabe hillbillies, isn’t it?”
“Shut up.” Your friend rolls her eyes as she pushes open the car door. “And I don’t think you’re supposed to say ‘hillbilly’ anymore.”
You trail behind her as she strides into the fold of the party, bouncing with every step. She approaches her fling and taps his shoulder. He turns only until he sees her before his arms fly open and she falls into them. You didn't catch his face. Their embrace is sickeningly sweet. Whatever, you think, turning towards the porch, I’m gonna grab a beer.
You step off the grass and your feet meet concrete so cracked it’s nearly gravel. Before you, shining like a north star, is a cooler with Rainiers sticking out of its mountain of ice. You storm to it, eyes on the prize, lean down, and reach for a can. But another, much larger, hand swoops in before you. The hand has large metacarpal bones that twitch as the lengthy fingers curl around the can. His fingernails are trimmed and clean. Who would have thought a hand could be so attractive? By the time you see it, your momentum doesn’t let up, and your hand lands on top of the mystery one. It’s like being struck by lightning. It’s warm, soft, but electric nonetheless. The hand pulls away. Sad.
You turn towards the rest of the body connected to that sexy hand, finding muscular arms attached to a broad chest, and a face that looks very familiar.
“Sorry, I-” he pauses when you meet his eye, and his face drains of color, like he’s seen a ghost. “Uh.”
Wait a second?
“Adrian Chase?”
“H-hi.”
“When did you get hot?” Your voice must carry more than expected, because your best friend materializes at your side. She calls your name, and it sounds like a scold.
“You can’t just say that to people!”
“Bitch, look at him. He used to be super scrawny, and he had a stupid haircut, and wore velcro sketchers.” You didn’t realize you were making a scene, but your best friend's boyfriend appeared next to Adrian, clapping a hand on his shoulder and laughing. When your eyes shift between the two, you realize that the guy your best friend has been seeing is Gut Chase. The most obnoxious person to share a vicinity with for all of your shared K-12 experience, which wasn’t much, thanks to the age difference. Adrian, though, was in your class, and you were probably his ‘most obnoxious,’ given how relentlessly mean you were to him.
“Oh my God, you’re dating Gut fucking Chase,” you turn to your best friend as disgust pinches your features. “No wonder you wouldn’t tell me who you were seeing. I would’ve talked you out of it before you got involved.”
Your eyes shift back to Gut, and it hits you just how weird this is. The years of sneaking out as a minor to run around with Gut and his scumbag friends hit you, and it feels like your skin is desperate to crawl away from your nerves and find the closest shower.
“Oh come on now,” Gut chuckles. His eyes carry a lightness you’d never seen before. “I’ve changed. It’s been, like, 10 years since I’ve seen you.”
Adrian looks stunned. He stands like a statue under his brother's palm, and you swear you can see the sweat forming on his forehead. Perhaps ‘relentlessly mean’ doesn’t quite cover it. You were the #1 Adrian Bully. The other kids in your grade eventually laid off him, but you just kept pushing him and pushing him, over and over again. In your defense, while other kids bullied him for being different, in a way that, even then, felt fundamentally wrong, you only bullied him for being an ugly nerd. It’s a weak defense, given that your cruelty was multiple times a day, every day, for all twelve shared school years.
“What’s wrong?” Typical Gut smugness creeps onto his face, the corners of his mouth tugging into a sneer. “Realizing that your bullying worked wonders on the kid?”
“Okay, leave him alone. Come on, you were going to show me something?” Your best friend cuts in. Her elbow rams into your side as she steps by you, and as she and Gut walk away, she throws a glare at you over her shoulder and mouths something like be nice.
You turn your attention back to Adrian, whose jaw is set, and fuck if the sight doesn’t make your legs quiver.
“Hi,” you wince.
“Hi.”
You rack your brain for some way to break this tension, or to ease into the question on your mind, but you were never the kind to dance around the subject. And from what you remember, neither was Adrian. Perhaps what made you mortal enemies was your shared loud personality.
“I meant that, by the way. When did you get hot?”
“You think I’m hot?” His eyebrow cocks. He’s asking you sincerely.
“Look at yourself. You’re jacked. You dress like a regular person. Your haircut suits your face so much better. And your glasses! Oh my God, those frames are adorable.” Your arms flinch as you fight the urge to grab his face while you gush about the man before you, himself. He seems to ease, but not entirely. He’s holding up a wall, just in case this is all an act. “What have you been up to since high school?”
“Not much,” is all he musters. Back in the day, Adrian struggled to stop talking for even a moment. Now his lips press together, sealing away the best of himself from you, who made his life hell for years.
“Look, I started this conversation all wrong. I want to apologize for the way I acted when we were kids. I’m still a bitch, I won’t deny that, but I don’t bully people for no reason anymore. And I’m not just saying that because you’re hot. I mean that. If you hadn’t changed at all, I’d still say I’m sorry.”
His shoulders drop, and he takes a breath. His hackles are lowering. But you aren’t off the ice just yet.
“What do you consider a reason to bully someone now?” Adrian asks. As you begin to answer, he leans back down into the cooler and picks up two beers.
“I guess being like, racist or homophobic or something. Like they have to be an asshole first. Ya know?” As he opens the cans, you watch the veins in his arms twitch, and your stomach flips.
“Actually, yeah, I know what you mean.” He sighs and reaches the can out to you.
“You hate my guts, and you still grab me a beer?”
“I don’t hate your guts,” he pauses, and your name comes out of his mouth breathy before he continues. “But you did kind of ruin my life for a while.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” You grimace. What he says is true, but still, it’s no fun to hear your mistakes recounted to you. He nods at your apology, solemnly. “Do you want to come sit by the fire and catch up with me?”
His brow furrows. He’s been evading eye contact since you saw him, but now he zeros in on your pupils. You drink in those green eyes of his.
“You sure?” He hesitantly asks. The corners of your mouth twitch, and you let the smile wash over your face. You grab onto his forearm, which is tense – It’s like holding a lead pipe – and lead him towards the fire, catching sight of two open camp chairs, whose canvas will lull you into nostalgic conversation.
The two of you catch up, and slowly he opens back up to the chatty person you remember. He tells you about the work he’s been doing with a private intelligence agency, though he’s vague because if you knew too much, he’d ‘have to kill you,’ or so he claims. You tell him about your achievements since high school. When a crow lands between your chairs and the fire to pick up a spare chip, he tells you about crows, and you surprise him by telling him crow facts he didn’t even know. Every time you finish a drink, he dutifully runs to the cooler and grabs you another, without being asked. While he’s grabbing your third drink, you scoot your chair closer to his. The tips of the armrests touch. You are getting resettled when he returns with your drinks and a blanket. He hands you the blanket and slips your beer into the mesh cupholder in the armrest. Your eyebrows knit together. His arm lifts and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.
“You looked like you were getting cold.”
“Damn, Adrian. You are, like, a mind reader. Why was I so mean to you for so long?”
“Probably because you were super into me?” He says, plopping back into his seat.
“I was definitely jealous that you were comfortable being yourself,” you hum. “Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. I thought you and Gut were, like, mortal enemies? Why are you at his party?”
He pauses and turns his attention to the bonfire. The reflection of fire flickers in his bright eyes. The air grows taut around the question. Eventually, he huffs. “We’re working on our relationship. Believe me, I’d rather be home right now.”
“So… could we also work on ours?” You ask, pressing your lips together. He looks puzzled. His eyes falter to the tips of the chairs, noting the change in their proximity, then turns his head and meets your eyes again.
“What do you mean?”
“I am having a real good time with you, Adrian. I want to make up for what I did to you, but I also just want to be your friend.”
“Dude, you don’t need to make it up to me. It's okay, it’s in the past. I probably did something to deserve it.” He leans into his armrest, tilts his head, and peers at you over the edge of his glasses. Your cardiac muscles react to the way he’s examining you. You lean toward him in return, resting against the armrest, and lower your voice.
“No, you didn’t. I was just evil. And be real with me, I’m sure there’s something that I-” Adrian is failing miserably to suppress the grin that’s splitting his reddened cheeks. “What?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, eyes wide, but the smile remains.
“Tell me!”
Something that pierces your chest catches your eye over Adrian's shoulder. A familiar-looking truck pulls up next to your best friends. The muted red lands in your stomach like the weights that Adrian must lift. Very, very heavy.
“No, no it’s-”
The motherfucker actually showed up. Your chest tightens, and sweat permeates your skin in a flash. That's when you realize your conversation with Adrian made you completely forget about this guy, only for him to come barreling into this lovely moment, ruining everything like always.
“Oh fuck,” you cut him off. He asks what's wrong a few times while you just watch your stalker ex-boyfriend step out of his truck and saunter towards the house. Adrian leans further until he’s in your line of sight. You snap back to him, heart racing, and desperate to get out of there. “My crazy stalker ex is here. I have to go.”
Adrian's face falls from one of concern to anger. The furrowed brows and set jaw he wore earlier have returned. He glances over his shoulder at the direction you are staring and sees some guy, a friend of Gut’s, exit the car. The two men clap hands and pull each other in for the fragile-masculinity-two-pats-on-the-back hug. He turns back to you.
“Do you want me to take care of him?” His voice may as well be a growl with how angry it comes out.
“No, it’s okay, but I should go if he’s here.” Despite your nerves, you tear your gaze from your ex and back to Adrian, a comforting sight. “But I am really enjoying this conversation. Is there anywhere private here that we can chat?”
“Your friend brought you here, right?”
“Yeah,” you murmur. Your attention flickers between Adrian and your ex, and somewhere in the back and forth, you realize how much more muscular Adrian is. Maybe he could ‘take care of him’ for you.
“Let's just leave. I’ll drive you home. If you really want to keep hanging out, we can go-” his eyes wander, searching for an idea. The desperation to get away from your ex, and the desire to have this guard golden retriever stick around you, leads you to a flash decision.
“Great idea. Let's go hang out at my place,” you chirp, jumping to your feet. “Come on, let’s go like now!”
When you try to give the blanket back to Adrian, he insists you bring it with you. His car doesn’t heat up very fast, he says. As you walk to his car, he shields you so dramatically that it nearly gives you away. You lightly smack his arm, and he turns to you, confusion painting his face, and you can’t help but giggle instead of scolding him.
When you get to his car, he opens the passenger door for you, and you slip inside. You look out the windshield to find your ex standing off to the side, glaring at Adrian. He catches it too and gives him a wordless nod. And as he rounds the car, is he trying to subtly flex his muscles at your ex?
When he gets in the car, the anger has returned. He immediately locks the doors and keeps his eyes locked on your ex.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think Gut may have told him you were here. That motherfucker rarely shows up to these parties, now he pulls up two hours after you arrive? It just seems weird to me.”
Gut fucking Chase, of course, he would. He’s been a creep since you were 13. More than once, he’d pick you and your friends up from whoever's house you were sneaking out of, and alcohol would be waiting in the backseat. He may not have attempted to groom you specifically. Still, you watched multiple friends fall victim to the two-week love bomb to post-statutory ghosting ritual he maintained.
“Let’s just go, we’ll have more fun at my place anyway.”
“You got Mario Kart?”
You enter your apartment and swim in the comfort of safety. Glimpsing over your shoulder, you find Adrian has read your mind and is twisting the lock on your front door. Something about him being so quick to lock the door should probably be concerning, but the thought that he’s careful to lock others out warms your heart. He slips his shoes off when he sees you do it, and you note this as well. The blanket, the lock, his shoes, it’s like he’s hypervigilant to every move you make.
His head cranes to look around your space, taking its you-ness in.
“You were about to say something.” He just hums in response, with an inflection suggesting a question. “At the bonfire. I asked how to make up for 12 years of torture, and you were smiling like an idiot. You weren’t thinking of murdering me, were you?”
“God no,” Adrian says. He follows you into the living room and plops down on your loveseat. You curl up with your feet tucked to the side and stretch your arm onto the back cushion, bending at the elbow to prop your head up.
“Good. So what was it then?”
“It’s highly inappropriate, I-I’m not going to say something to make you uncomfortable.”
Your stomach flips, and your eyes flutter closed as you concentrate on suppressing the childish grin threatening your cheeks. When you open them again, his handsome face stares back at you, sending restlessness into your fingers.
“Adrian, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve called you hot, like, 100 times tonight. Highly inappropriate sounds perfect to me.”
He just looks at you for a moment, eyes scanning every inch of your face, and drinking in the way you appear to be admiring him. It’s his stomach’s turn to flip, and fill with butterflies. He wants to blurt out the most lizard-brained thing he can manage right now, but the weight of a long-forgotten truth rests heavily on his heart.
“I had the biggest crush on you for a long time,” he sighs. You lift your head, lips parting.
“What do you mean? I was nasty to you.”
“Yeah, and I found it hot, I guess? I don’t know. I could also just see how sad you were. I tried not to take it personally. Which was really hard, of course. But everything you bullied me for, I saw you do yourself. You made fun of me for not shutting up, but you would also talk people's ears off.”
“You made fun of me for liking nerdy stuff, but then in our science classes, you would listen to the lectures with wide eyes. Like, in our astronomy and oceanography class, I’m pretty sure I saw you drooling over space rocks and sea creatures, and stuff.”
Heat prickles at your eyes and tear ducts. How did Adrian Chase of all people observe these things about you that you were too busy obsessing over popularity to observe in yourself? You swallowed hard and inch ever so closer to him, speaking unintentionally in a near-whisper.
“I’ve never had anybody see me like that, Adrian.” He shrugged, and his arm stretched out over the back of the couch. His skin grazed against your arm, still bent at the elbow, but supporting nothing. You were too in shock to rest your head. His fingers lazily reached up and fiddled with a strand of your hair.
“I know. I sort of took a special interest in you. My friends thought I was a total fucking loser, and they’re right, but-”
“You are anything but a loser. You powered through, like, so much shit. And you came out the other side able to kick all of our asses but choosing not to. You’re a good person, and I don’t deserve your kindness.”
His fingers push the strand of hair behind your ear, and heat creeps up your neck. You can’t hold back anymore. You haveto kiss him.
“Well, you’re going to get it anyway,” he mutters.
“How about I make it up to you by fucking your brains out,” the words pour out of your mouth. That shared inability to shut up, to put up any sort of filter, has led you to this moment, when he accepts your offer.
“Fuck yes,” he breathes.
You are on him in an instant, lips pressing against his. This tie between you two is unyielding, like a thread being pulled, drawing you closer together. His finger, entwined with your hair, grows to both hands cupping your cheeks. It feels warm and safe. You crawl forward and swing your leg around his lap. His hands fall from your face to your ass, which he yanks inward, closing the gap between your loins. A small moan escapes your throat as he does so, and you feel his kiss break to bare his teeth in a smile. You lean away from him, but he’s still holding your hips tightly against himself.
“Are you sure you want to-” he starts. You cut him off by diving back into his lips, sliding your tongue over his. The velvety texture of his tongue and the squeezing of your hips trigger more moans. You pull away again as he grows hard beneath your legs. He looks displeased that your lips aren’t on his for even a moment.
“I want to suck your dick,” you exclaim. Heat rushes to your cheeks in embarrassment, because oh my god, girl. Play it cool.
“Yeah, you’ve said a lot of mean things to me. I think I need to teach your pretty mouth a lesson.”
A tingling sensation bites at your clit, and your folds become slick. You nod, stand, and fall to your knees on the shag carpet. He tugs at your arm, lifting you back up.
“Nuh-uh, I want you naked.”
“Be patient, Adrian, I’ll-”
“Now,” he insists. Oh no – your two personalities may lead to an unending fight for dominance. Where has he been all my life? You think. Oh right.
Your arms cross over your stomach and yank your shirt overhead. You toss it aside while Adrian's eyes scan your torso, observing every inch that he will eventually kiss. Your pants are next. You fiddle with your jean button, and he leans forward and works your zipper for you. When both fasteners are undone, he pulls them down while you push at the waistband. Only your bra and underwear remain. You reach for the strap and unclip your bra, and it gracelessly falls into the pile with the rest of your clothes. Adrian runs a finger along the waistband of your panties, teasing you for a brief moment before he yanks them down as well, revealing your pussy already glistening with arousal.
“Fuck, you are more perfect than I imagined. I think I could get off just by looking at you.” He begins to undo his belt buckle.
“You’ve imagined me?”
“In high school? Dude, like, all day every day. Then, as soon as I saw you today, I fell right back into old habits.” As he says this, his pants and underwear are undone and pulled down. His dick springs free, and your eyes widen at the sight. Oh god, yes. Take me to France.
“You’re bigger than I imagined.”
“You’ve imagined me?” You said it in a bashful, coy way, but he says it in curiosity.
“Sounds like we’ve been eye-fucking each other all night.”
Your feet kick your pile of clothes to the side, and you fall back onto your knees as Adrian scoots to the edge of the couch. The butterflies in your stomach are raving as you wrap a hand around his cock.
“Come on, baby. Let's wash out that mouth of yours.” His hand lands on the back of your head, and he pushes your face against his groin. You barely open your mouth in time and immediately gag at his size as he stabs your uvula. He pushes once more, then lets you set the pace. His hand stays on your head, and his fingers entwine themselves in your hair. His thumb gently strokes back and forth against your skull as he slides down your throat. You try to take more of him with each head movement, but fuck he’s big.
“Ohh, yeah. That feels s’good.” He hisses and his fingers tighten around your hair, thumb still stroking lightly. “Fuck it’s so hot. Filling your throat with my cock. ‘Feels good to wash that pretty mouth clean of all the nasty things it’s said.”
Your gagging is interrupted by a whimper. Your legs twitch, and your pussy is starting to pulsate with need.
“Finally, someone shut you the fuck up, huh. Do you like it? You like your mouth being full of me?”
Holy shit. You think. I did not see the vision. You nod wordlessly, and he chuckles. His hand begins to push against your head again, and your throat is stretched to a new width. It slides in and out so effortlessly. Your lips grow swollen and sore. Your tongue flickering in your mouth coaxes more moans from him.
“Look at me,” he says. You look up, and seeing him look back down on you with a desperate lust in his eyes sets your loins ablaze. “Good, good. Fuck! Your mouth feels so good. I wonder what your pussy feels like. Want me to fuck you, baby?”
You whimper and attempt to nod again, but he’s pushing your head so fast you can’t. Your gagging is building up to a pressure in your stomach, and just when it’s almost too much for your esophagus to bear, he pulls out.
“It’s your turn,” he sternly says.
“No,” you shake your head. “I just want you inside me. I owe you. Let me make it up to you.”
“You don’t owe me-”
“I know, Adrian, but fuck, please shut up and fuck me.”
When you stand, his hands wrap around your ass and with a tight squeeze of the soft flesh. He tugs you back onto his lap. You land closer to his knees, and he stops for a second.
“I want to hear you beg again,” he grins. You groan and bounce lightly, pushing out the frustrated energy like a child throwing a tantrum. He cocks an eyebrow after your groan.
“Please, Adrian. Please fuck me.”
“Atta girl.” He bounces his knee once, pushing you forward and into his lips. His hands pull in the rest of you, and lift as your folds slide against his dick. He lines up to your entrance and lets you down slowly, one agonizing inch at a time. You’re stretched to widths you’ve never felt before, and he’s still going. He hisses, and it melts into a chuckle. “Fuck, you’re already clenching around me.”
You have become a total mess, melting around his dick as sweat coats your forehead. Your moans land in his chest like a kiss. Before he’s all the way in, he lifts your hips again, then slams them against his own in a flash. You cry out his name, and he whimpers. He holds your hips down, and you writhe around him and call his name again.
“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice cracks.
“You’re r-ruining me for anyone else.” He lifts your hips again and slams you back down. You scream. He holds you there for so long that your body shudders. He repeats the motion and increases the pace. Pressure builds at your core as his dick licks a spongy spot you didn’t even know existed in you until now.
“Good. That’s exactly how I want you,” Adrian grunts. You gasp when his fingers press against your clit and begin to rub in small circles. He moans when the stimulation makes you clench around his dick tighter. The pressure in your loins is building scarily fast. Your lungs grasp at what little air they can manage, and you’re sure you won’t last long. “It’s so fucking hot how you find sea creatures so interesting.”
“W-wha-” you’re cut off by your own sudden orgasm. It hits your pussy in a violent explosion, and your vision blurs. Your body convulses from the pleasure. “Fuck, oh God, Adrian!”
“That’s right, baby, good girl.” He wheezes at your tightness, at your pussy desperately milking him for all he’s worth.
You feel so good you can almost cry. Adrian slowed down while you were cumming on him, but he picks up the pace now that you’ve appeared to semi-recover.
“I’m sorry,” you moan. Pressure is building up again already, and your head swims at the thought that you may cum again, and soon. “I’m so fucking sorry for being so mean to you.”
“I don’t give a shit. As long as you keep letting me fuck you like this, you can be as mean as you want,” he whimpers. “All’s for- Fuck- forgiven. You feel so fucking good. Are you on the pill?”
“Even if I wasn’t, I'd still make you cum inside me, motherfucker,” you grunt as your second orgasm grows in your core.
“God- Fuck- holy shit baby. I’m going to cum inside you so fucking hard,” he cries.
“Me too,” you whine.
“Cum with me, baby, please. I wanna feel you finish on me again. I want our cum to fight for space inside you.”
“You are so fucking weird, it’s so fucking hot,” your voice cracks as he thrusts deeper. You throw your head back, and the pressure becomes unbearable.
“Cum with me, baby.” His raspy voice snaps the pressure, and you squirm as your orgasm hits again. You see stars, and your body is thrust into a higher plain of existence. The tight contractions of your insides send him over the edge, and he’s shooting his cum inside you. He whimpers as his body enters that higher plain with you. Your spine rounds, and you fall into his chest. One of his hands wraps around the back of your head, holding you close, while the other lands on your thigh. You spend the next several minutes slowly coming down from the high, panting and nuzzling into each other.
“You think it’s hot that I like sea creatures?” Your words are broken up between shallow breaths.
“It’s, like, the sexiest thing about you.” He says. His voice has returned to normal. Meanwhile, you are still hyperventilating. You giggle and finally sit back up, resting your weight on his thighs.
“Want to go to the ocean with me soon?”
“Fuck yeah,” he says. “Want me to take care of that shitty ex for yours? I don’t want someone other than me bothering you.”
Adrian is sure that you saying ‘yes, please kill him’ alone would make him cum again.
“What does ‘take care of him’ mean?” You ask, admittedly intrigued. Adrian swears internally.
“Whatever you want. I can scare him, beat the shit out of him, kill him.” You laugh, assuming incorrectly that the last one is a joke.
“Alright, scare him off, and if he gives you trouble, beat the shit out of him. But be careful, and don’t get arrested. I need you in one piece if we are going to keep doing this.”
“Yes ma’am,” he grins, unsure whether he’s more excited to beat up your ex, or get inside you again.
Synopsis: Adrian Chase had a crush on her. Everyone knew it, even her. That is why she decided to stay with him when there was a gas leak in her apartment that forced her to evacuate. Her goal was to get him to confess to her by the end of her stay, but what she didn't expect was to be thrown in the middle of his insane family dynamic.
Chapter 6:
Word Count: 3,918
Chapter warnings: mentions of masterbaition, sexual tension.
AFTER THE ~@~ IS SMUT!!
Smut warnings: Dry-humping, p in v, praise (im bad at tagging this)
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The mission didn’t necessarily go as planned. Chris was too busy making inappropriate insinuations to her and Adrian that he didn’t notice the ambush. In the end, they were able to take out all of the butterflies, but she suffered a large cut. One that started in between her shoulder blades and ended half way down her back. It wasn’t too deep, thankfully, but it did cut through the band of her bra. Which sucked for her, as it was a pretty decent bra.
In the van, she couldn’t lean back on the seat without it irritating the cut. John noticed how uncomfortable she was sitting up weirdly. “When we get back to base, I’ll patch you up first.”
She nodded in agreement, but Adrian didn’t. “Just drop us off at the motel. I can patch her up.”
John rolled his eyes at Adrian. “You’re not the medic of the team.”
“I think you just want to see her topless.” Adrian fought him.
“Jesus Christ.” John cussed to himself, getting whiplash from the accusation. “I think you’re the one that wants to see her topless.”
“Even if I did, it's not like I haven’t already.” Adrian tried to justify himself. “Plus, I have always patched her up. Long before we joined any of you.”
John went to say something else, but she cut him off. “Can we please stop talking about me being topless.” The two men shut up as she continued. “Just drop us off at the motel, I don’t want to deal with getting an uber.”
The rest of the ride went as smoothly as it could’ve gone for the 11th Street Kids. Once the two of them got back to the hotel room, she began to take her armor off, struggling slightly from the inconvenience of the cut.
“Let me help.” Adrian was quick to put his hands on her, helping her unbuckle straps and pull off parts. Eventually she was left with the shirt all of the armor laid overtop. With her back to him, she attempted to take it off. She could only get the shirt to her waist before she groaned in pain. Adrian placed his hands on her bare waist. “I got it.”
Instead of grabbing the fabric, like a normal person, he just moved his hands up her body, allowing the fabric to bunch up. As her bra had nothing to hold it to her body, it followed along with the shirt, leaving her chest completely bare.
Once she was free from the bloodied, torn shirt, she covered her boobs with her hands. Walking over to the bed she laid down on her stomach. Feet dangling off the edge, she pulled her hands out from under her. In this case, she was thankful it was Adrian patching her up, as she wouldn’t have felt comfortable being this naked in front of John, or anyone else for that matter. But she dreaded the pain that was about to ensue.
When Adrian was done removing his own armor, he grabbed the med kit she always kept in her bag, walking back over to her. He began to climb on top of her. Placing his knees on either side of her butt, he sat on her thighs. Rummaging through her medical pack, he looked for all the things he needed.
After he laid everything out on the bed, she turned her face as far as it could go to look at him. “Please be gentle.” Her brows were pressed together as her bottom lip was pouted out.
He had never gotten up on his knees quicker, so she couldn’t feel his cock harden against her ass. “Uh… yeah… I will be.” He choked out, eyes focused on her pleading expression.
Using the alcohol wipes, he cleaned the wound of the dried blood. She groaned in pain into the mattress as she arched her back away from the wipes. Adrian placed his free hand on her shoulder, pushing her into the mattress. “Stop moving.” He told her.
“It burns.” She whined.
He stopped all movement, having to collect himself before he could continue. Once all of the blood was cleaned off, he ran his hand alongside the cut. “It’s not that deep.” She sighed in relief, knowing she wouldn’t need stitches. “But I should put some butterfly strips on it, just to make sure it doesn't tear anymore.”
She nodded in agreement, just happy that he wouldn’t be threading a needle in her skin. He listened to her pleas, being as gentle as he could. It was to the point where it tickled, causing her to try and scurry from his touch. The second he finished, he got off of her, running to the bathroom before she could see the tent in his pants.
“I call dibs on the shower.” He shouted from the other side of the door.
She chuckled at him and his antics as she heard the water turn on. Walking closer to the door, she continued to say “I was thinking we could order some takeout?”
“That works.” He quickly responded, trying to get her away from the door so he could get some sweet relief in peace.
“What are you thinking?” She scrolled on her phone, looking for places nearby that would deliver. “Chinese, Pizza, Italian?”
“Any works for me.” He quickly responded.
“Well I can’t decide.” She huffed. “That’s why I’m asking you.”
“All of them.” He blurted out.
“All of them?” She repeated.
“Yes.” He said. “Something from all of them.”
“What do you want from them?” She asked.
“Surprise me.” He said with finality.
“Alright.” She responded, walking away from the door.
He waited to hear the TV turn on before he began to take care of himself. By the time that she had finished her own shower, all of the food she had ordered, arrived. Adrian had unpacked it all, laying the disposable containers on the bed. He sat criss crossed on the bed, waiting for her to join.
She sat across from him, mimicking his position. The food was between them: Eggrolls from a chinese restaurant only a few buildings down; Pizza from the local Domino’s; And tiramisu from OliveGarden. Even though his choice came from sexual frustration, he was proud of himself for thinking of something like this.
“Thank you for patching me up.” She said, taking a bite of the pizza.
“Of course.” He responded like it was nothing. “I couldn’t have Economos’ hands all over you.”
“Oh so it’s okay when you do it,” She teased. “But not him?”
“Duh.” He responded, biting into the Tiramisu first. “You’re my sidekick, not his.” She could only roll her eyes at him. “Is it feeling better?”
She nodded. “The shower helped relax my muscles. Nothing will ever be as bad as the time that I got shot in the ass.”
He laughed at the memory, mouth still full of food. “You couldn’t sit properly for a whole week.”
“It was miserable.” She remembered.
“Couldn’t have been as miserable as the aftermath of the first mission we went on.” He recalled another memory. “You were vomiting into the toilet all night.”
“Don’t remind me!” She covered her face, “That was so embarrassing.”
“It was not!” He retorted.
“I remember how you told me all of the other, more gory, things you had experienced. Which caused me to just throw up more.” It was funny how much it used to bother her, but she quickly got over it.
“That was a great night.” He reminisced.
“It wasn't!” She hit his knee.
“It was!” He quickly responded, getting completely lost in the memory. “When I saw your pouty face glaring at me for telling you that you sounded like a dying animal for dry heaving so much, that was the moment I knew I-”
He was quick to cut himself off, realizing what he was about to say. Even though she had been so attentive to everything he has ever done or said, waiting for him to say the words she so desperately wanted to hear, she didn’t catch on this time. It was because she wasn’t trying to get a confession out of him at that moment, so she was genuinely confused about what he was about to say.
“Knew what?” She asked, finishing off the eggroll.
He was quiet, staring at her, trying to think of what to say. He recovered, sitting up straight. “Knew that you would be the perfect sidekick for me.”
“Adrian.” She softly called out, realizing he was lying.
“What?” He asked defensively. “You have been the best sidekick ever.”
“You are the worst liar in the world.” She finally told him.
“No I am not!” He responded, defensively.
“You so are.” Her tone was soft. “Remember what I said last night. You can always tell me the truth. Unlike the others, unlike your family, I will never judge you for anything you do, say, or feel.”
“I love you.” He blurted out, his tone was flat, not exaggerating a single thing, being his true self. “I fell in love with you the moment I saw you kick that man, three times the size of you, in the balls. I remember the way your dress glimmered in the dim light of the alleyway and your shocked expression when I blew his brains out. I only realized it the night after our first mission."
She wanted to jump across the bed, and kiss him deeply, like she'd been waiting to do for months. But as the food would get all over the bed, she refrained. “The night we got that free ice cream after we killed that guy who tried to rob the 7/11, you took me to the top of the bridge that connects Evergreen and the neighboring town. You shoved my face into my ice cream cone and laughed hysterically as I tried to get it all off before it could stick to my face too much. That was when I realized you liked me, and I knew I liked you too.”
“You’ve known?” He asked, and she nodded. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted you to be the one to say it first.” She chuckled. “And I enjoyed watching you stumble over yourself when I pushed the limits of ‘friendship’.”
“You pervert!” He jokingly jabbed.
“Nothing more perverted than lying to your mother about dating your sidekick.” She shot back at him.
“I didn’t!” He lied yet again, thinking she would believe him.
“Oh my god! You so did!” She laughed at his absurdity. “And then you tried telling me that you had another girlfriend that ‘just so happened’ to have the same name as me. AND broke up with your fake girlfriend, just to convince me to sleep in the same bed as you.”
“I couldn’t have been lying to my mother about us dating because I liked you, and you liked me, so we honestly were basically dating at that point.” He ignored her comments about the fake girlfriend.
They both went silent for a moment, but it was quickly broken with both of them laughing until their lungs had nothing left in them. “Oh fuck.” Adrian gasped out, still trying to catch his breath. “You really didn’t believe a single lie huh?”
“Not one.” She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.
“So…” Adrian trailed off, trying to seem chill. “Does this mean, we’re like, dating now?”
“I thought you said we’ve basically been dating for the past few months now.” She teased him before finally saying, “I would like that. A lot. As long as you-”
“Yes-” He responded quickly, without even needing to think about it.
They both stared at one another silently. Staring at the face they had memorized long ago, but now, that face had a different meaning behind it. Not just partner in crime, not crush, not co-worker. Now it was, lover.
Adrian began to lean forward on the bed, not being able to stand being so far. To his dismay, she put her hand out, stopping him. “The food. I already paid for this room. I do not have the money to replace this comforter.”
He was quick to get off the bed, collecting the food and placing it on the dresser. She too got up, helping to speed up the process. The second she placed the tiramisu down, he practically pounced on her, connecting their lips.
They both moaned into the kiss, feeling the tension that had been building up for the past eight months finally released. Adrian held her with one arm around her lower back and the other was on the back of her head, not allowing her to get away from him. She too held him close, arms around his neck tightly, not wanting him to escape her again.
They pulled away, just enough to catch their breath. “Fuck.” He moaned into her mouth. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since I almost ate all of that ice cream off your face.”
She chuckled, but it was cut off with him leaning back into her. It didn’t take too long before she was pulling away. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since I heard about you on the news. And the first time I heard your voice, before I even knew what you looked like. I dreamed of your face when I didn’t even know it. And god the real one was so much better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
“Fuck, I love you so much.” He groaned, not understanding how he could feel so strongly about a person.
She giggled in response, happy to get what she finally wanted: “I love you too.”
~@~
Adrian began to walk her toward the bed. Once her legs hit the back of the bed, he leaned forward, waiting for her to fall onto it. She only grabbed at him tighter, not wanting to land on her back. “The cut.” She reminded him. “I won't be able to lay on my back for a few days.”
“Oh right.” He responded, standing up right, bringing her with him.
Pushing him back lightly, she got the space she needed to take off her top. Adrian stood still, pupils blown wide, eyes glued to her chest. “When I was helping you get your top off, I was trying to get a glimpse of those in the mirrors.” He admitted breathlessly.
“All you had to do was confess to me and I’m all yours.” She teased.
“I should’ve confessed long ago.” He said, walking back up to her.
“You should’ve.” She smiled, holding her hand out to stop him from touching her. “You too.” She motioned to his shirt.
He was quick to strip his shirt off, giving her the biggest puppy dog eyes, waiting for her next command. “Now your pants.” He fumbled with the button on his jeans, being so excited that his hands were shaking.
Eventually, he got them off, leaving him in underwear that left little to the imagination. She motioned to the bed, and he didn’t need any words to listen. He threw himself on the bed, leaning up slightly against the headboard, making sure he could watch her. She stripped off her pants, making sure her ass was facing him when she leaned down.
“Fuck” He groaned from the bed. “This is the second time I've gotten hard today”
“When was the first?” She asked, not knowing.
“When I was patching you up.” He shamelessly admitted. “You kept moaning and arching your back. It was hard not to take it another way.”
“Pervert.” She called him, while getting on the bed, crawling to him slowly.
“Hey! I am far from a pervert! You’re just too hot, I can’t help myself.” He tried to defend himself, but only dug his hole deeper.
“What you meant to say was,” She reached him, climbing into his lap. She hovered over him, grabbing his face, lips barely brushing his. “This is the second time you’ve gotten hard in the past hour.”
He put his hands on her hips, pulling her down to sit on his cock. They moaned, heat collecting where the both of them connected. He kissed her passionately, deeply, lips moving together like they had always known the feeling of one another.
Pulling away for a moment, he said. “Day. Hour. It doesn’t matter. If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll be hard every second.”
Connecting their lips once again, she didn’t say anything more. She could feel his cock twitch underneath her as he moaned into the kiss. She began to rock her hips back and forth, fabric rubbing against fabric. If you would’ve told Adrian that beating the shit out of his brother would lead to having the love of his life on top of him, grinding down on him, he would’ve beaten his brother long ago.
Soon enough, he wanted more, moving his hands over her body. They first started on her ass, as it was the closest thing he could grab, aside from her hips. Once he had his fun squeezing and slapping her ass, his hands moved up her body, just as they had done that morning in the bathroom, and even an hour ago when he was helping her remove her shirt.
Leaning back, she allowed him the space to bring his face to her breasts, kissing her perky nipple. She moaned out into the air, head thrown back in pleasure, grabbing onto his shoulders like a lifeline. He loved watching her bite her lip, holding in another moan as she pleasured herself on his cock.
She was relentless in her movements, hips pushing and pulling, like they were on a mission, chasing a high they both wanted to reach. As he got closer and closer to the peak, the more overstimulated he began to feel.
“Wait.” He said, grabbing her hips to stop her. She didn’t move, just looked at him worried. “I want the first time I cum because of you to be because I was inside of you.”
“I think I can do that for you.” She smiled, giving him a long kiss.
Her hand trailed down his chest, going further than she had that morning. He moaned into her mouth when her hand brushed over his clothed hard on. She stroked him a few times, teasing him, before dipping her hand under the band of his underwear, feeling him fully.
“Fuck.” She cursed, pulling away, sitting on his upper thighs. She pulled his underwear down below his cock as she looked in amusement. “I thought Chris called you thimble because of your dick size.”
“He did.” He confirmed. “I only hit puberty at 26.”
“This,” she said, grabbing his cock again, “is not a thimble.”
He moaned as she gripped him tightly. “Are you disappointed?”
“No.” She quickly corrected him. “Not at all. It’s a pleasant surprise.”
Adrian was happy to know that she still would be here, on top of him, even if he did have a small dick, showing that she loved him for him, and not his body. She leaned up to kiss him again, feeling as though they had been apart for too long. When they broke for air, he told her. “Condom. In my Vigilante pocket.”
“Why do you keep it in your Vigilante outfit?” Dismounting him, she laughed. “Hoping to get lucky with a random person you’ve saved." She teased, looking for the condom.
“No.” He quickly responded. “I always had the fantasy of fucking you in an alleyway after a good kill. Had to be sure I was prepared, just in case the opportunity arose."
Since she knew every time he lied, he decided it was best to tell her the truth, even if he added in details she didn’t necessarily need to know. He adjusted his glasses in his face, making sure he could see everything as clear as possible.
“Maybe I will be able to fulfill this fantasy one day.” She found the condom, pulling it out. When she rose, she noticed that Adrian’s underwear was already discarded. His hand was on his cock, slowly stroking himself to relieve the ache she had left him with.
“You don’t understand what that does to me.” He moaned out. She pulled her underwear down, being just as naked as him. “I need you now. I can’t wait any longer.”
Wasting no more time, she ripped the condom packet with her teeth, walking back over to him. Moving his hand, he allowed her to roll the condom over him, hands reaching for her waist. Keeping a hold on him, she lined him up with her entrance. Leaning her forehead against his, she lowered herself down, allowing her walls to envelop him.
“Fuck.” They both moaned in unison, gazing into each other's eyes.
“This is the best thing ever.” He moaned.
“God,” she cussed. “I can’t believe it took you this fucking long to get the hint.”
“You did this to yourself.” He told her. “You could’ve just told me and saved us both the trouble.”
“But where’s the fun in that.” She smiled, leaning in for a kiss as she raised her hips, slamming them back down.
He knew from the first stroke that he wasn’t going to last long, all that edging worked against him. The way she clamped down on him in a way no other person could, didn’t help either. One of his hands massaged her chest as the other one snuck between her legs, stroking her clit.
“Fuck, Adrian.” She pulled away from the kiss to moan his name. “You’re perfect. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”
“Wait until I can get you on your back.” He responded in between breathy moans. “I’ll show you just how perfect I can be.”
There was no strategy in her movement, running purely off of instinct. They looked at each other in the eyes, breaths mixing in the space between them. Adrian could tell she was getting close, the way she sucked him in, and he knew he too wouldn’t be able to last long.
“Adrian- I’m gonna.” She moaned as her legs began to give out.
Moving his hand away from her breast, he grabbed the underside of her ass, assisting her in her movements. His other hand never relented on her clit, brushing hard, quick, strokes. They kissed one last time, rough, unmoving, as they came together.
Adrian removed his hands from her lower regions, bringing them up to embrace her, pulling her flush against him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, as she pulled away from the kiss. Not making any effort in taking his softened cock out of her. Staring at one another, starstruck.
She was the first to speak, breaking the silence. “I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend.”
“Careful, if you speak like that I might get hard again.” He jokingly warned her.
“Maybe I’d like that.” She chuckled, leaning into his lips.
Pulling away, he said. “Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He pressed a kiss on her shoulder. “My sidekick.” Another kiss landed on her neck. “My best friend.” Her cheek was the next thing that his lips pressed against.
”My girlfriend.” He said, finally reaching her lips.
She couldn’t help but laugh, feeling him harden again slowly inside of her. “I’m so glad we don’t have work tomorrow.”
“Me too.” He agreed, getting comfortable for round two.
Next »
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Two chapters in 48 hours?? who am I?? ANYWAYS I stayed up until 4am writing this because I NEEDED to get this out of my head. I have barely written smut, so I hope it was up to yalls standards. next chapter will finally be their lil date. I am really debating weather or not to add ANOTHER chapter after that where the 11th street kids find out and then the story would end with them out on a patrol or something. Either way, give me your thoughts!!
Your comments help motivate me, and I really enjoy talking to yall about the fic. if anyone wants to talk to me more directly you should join the discord!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
Note: My readers are written with inclusivity and women of colour in mind, with minimal descriptors or indetifying features, along with actions and intent, however everyone is encouraged to read and enjoy 💜
Summary: Gut Chase is returning home to Evergreen after 10 years, bringing you — his new fiancée — with him and all the baggage and violent sibling rivalry that remains between him and Adrian with them. When Adrian meets you, it's obsession at first sight and it becomes clear that you don't know what kind of man Gut is, Adrian takes it into his own hands to try and show you, while simultaneously trying to pry you out of the clawed grip of his older brother.
Warnings/Tags: MDNI - Adults Only! Dead Dove Do Not Eat. -> -> No. Happy. Ending. <- <-
Mentions of drug withdrawal and drug seeking behaviour. Canon typical violence. Attempted murder. Eye horror. Mentions of attempted infanticide and child abuse. POV switching. Flashbacks. Stalking. Mentions of being tracked and followed. Gore. Manipulative reader. Head over heels obsessed Adrian. Kidnapping. Torture. Reader is held captive. Threats of sexual assault. How many body parts can Gut lose by the end of this fic? Graphic descriptions of disfiguring. Reader is involved in an explosion. A special guest appearance 💻. Near death experience described. GUT GETS HIS COMEUPPANCE. Eye horror, I know I already said this once, but I cannot stress this one enough. One Italian translation thank you @eowens55 for sending me the correct translation 💜
->I do not give permission for my fics to be copied or fed into any AI software, please respect the wishes of writers and just enjoy the source material that has been provided to you.<-
A/N: Face claim for Gut Chase - Daniel Sharman. Face claim for Alex Park - Steven Yeun. Ms.Chase is now called Penny, Mr.Chase is called Paul. Face claim for Victor Castellano - Luca Marinelli. Patting myself on the back for finishing a multipart fic! This is unheard of for me lmao.
There's a lot of POV jumping so dear God I hope it makes sense like it does to me haha.
If you enjoy this fic, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment, it really means a lot to me💜
Fic Masterlist-> Part 1 -> Part 2
Evergreen, 2014.
The Chase residence, 11.34pm.
"I fucking told you, Rick! I will get you your money somehow! Just give me another day, alright?!" Sheer desperation drove Gut here, on his knees, shaking and sweating out a withdrawal, it's been days since his last fix and his dealers about to cut him off altogether if he doesn't cough up the money he already owes.
Shattered trinkets lay strewn across the living room floor, now nothing but shards that will bury themselves in the carpet for months to come, each time a painful reminder of this night when discovered.
Gut doesn't know what he's searching for exactly, it wasn't like his mom was rich by any means, maybe he could pawn some of her old jewelry or toss the TV into the back of his car and he might just get enough to by an eight ball at the very least.
Pieces of splintered china embed themselves into his knees as he rummages through yet another cabinet, too out of it to care about the pain or the blood trickling and trailing across the carpet, following him as Gut continues his hunt for hidden treasures.
He doesn't hear the front door open or close, too preoccupied with begging his dealer for more time before being hung up on. His cellphone smashing on impact when it was thrown into the wall out of sheer uncontrolled anger.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
The last person Gut wanted to see right now, other than his mother, was his little brother, yet here he is, eyes wide behind the frames that are miles too big for his face, his lanky figure hovering in the doorway as he takes in the scene in front of him. Completely horrified, bewildered, ready to run away and tell on him to mommy.
Gut stares him down, red in the face, eyes sunken and hollowed, beads of sweat dribbling from his brow, staggering as he presses a palm to the wall beside him, attempting to rise to his feet, unwilling to let Adrian see him as the weak one for a change.
"Liiiittle brother." Even while in the midst of a heavy comedown, Gut still finds the strength to remind Adrian who's in charge around here. "You're home! And just in time, you see, I need t'borrow some money—"
Gut stumbles closer, Adrian takes a step back.
"No." Short and sharp, not letting Gut even finish his rambling beg for money.
Apparently Adrian grew a backbone?
Gut scoffs, hands tucking into his pockets, subtly feeling for the pocket knife he keeps on him at all times, he can break him if he wants to, all Adrian has to do is give Gut a reason.
"No? Oh c'mon lil bro! Surely you must have some money stashed away? I know Big Belly Burger doesn't exactly pay the big bucks, but all I'm asking for is—"
"I said no, Gut." Sterner than before, refusing to let the hold Gut has had over him since birth be a factor this time, though even Gut can see the tremble, the one little Adrian so desperately tries to hide, the shake of a little boy in a grown man's body, trying to repress the urge to piss himself with fear on the spot.
The moment stretches on, both silently holding each other's matching glares, the air so thick with tension that Gut could cut it with his knife, the one he thumbs over in his palm, hidden from view.
"Well, well, well. I'm impressed, the runt of the family is finally becoming a man. Only took you what? 25 years to finally stand up to me. It was always 'Yes Gut' 'I'll do that, Gut' 'Please don't hurt me, Gut'" He mocks with a cruel twist of his lips. "What? You find a girl desperate enough to let you stick your dick in her or something? I'm sure she had a great time with you, thimble."
All Gut knows is how to antagonize Adrian, some brothers are best of friends, some go through phases of being friends and falling out, some are complete ghosts to one another, brothers in blood only. Gut and Adrian never had any friendship phase, not when Gut resented Adrian from day one, when his mom and dad sat him down after kindergarten one day with 'special news' to share, that he was going to be a big brother soon and he'd have to learn how to be more gentle, no biting, no hitting, no scratching, all the issues the teachers would often pull them aside to speak about at pick-up, he'd have to learn to be a good little boy and 'set a good example' for his baby brother.
That of course, didn't happen. Penelope Chase found Gut attempting to smother a tiny Adrian in his crib a week after they came home from the hospital, from that moment onwards until Adrian was old enough for training wheels, she'd never risk leaving them alone. It all became too much for their dad, Paul felt stifled and battling with his closeted homosexuality while trying to be a perfect husband and a perfect father to kids who couldn't even be left alone together, was just too much. He'd upped and left them around the same time Adrian's first memory of when the pain first started was, Adrian held no grudge against his father or step-father, but Gut did, and it was all Adrian's fault.
"N-no, that's not—you know what? Fuck this, I'm waking mom up, she needs to see the real you, for once."
That was it. That's all it took for Gut to snap. His vision clouded red around the edges, barreling forward towards Adrian the second his back is turned, propelled solely by the hatred he harboured in every single bone of his body for the brother he wished he'd killed when he was still in his mother's womb.
There was no stopping him now, nothing to lose, nothing to gain either, other than the sick satisfaction of watching him bleed out on the living room carpet.
An inch or so above Adrian's right kidney is where the blade went in, Gut's aim was off, along with his balance, going to lunge at him again as Adrian yells out in agony, attempting to retrieve the knife once more. The next time, he wouldn't miss his target.
Except there was no next time.
Adrian swings out his arm into Gut's chest, knocking him away from him, crash landing dead centre on the coffee table, breaking it in two, scattering TV guides and knick-knacks to the floor around him.
Pain radiates up Gut's spine as he tries to pull himself together, splinters rooting into his palm as he attempts to push himself up out of the wreckage.
"You… fucking… pathetic… little… cunt! I am going to slit your fucking throat when I catch you!" Gut grunts out, struggling to heave himself upwards.
Crimson sprays out onto the cream carpet at Adrian's feet, pulling the 4 inch blade out of himself, biting back the scream that builds in his throat.
He knew what he had to do, that this was always how it was going to be with Gut, no amount of family therapy sessions or physical distance between them was ever going to change that. Nothing was ever going to fix the animosity, too deep-rooted to ever salvage anything from the wreckage that was their brotherhood.
Gut had to die.
Adrian had to be the one to do it.
"Boys? What's going on down there?!" Penelope's timid shout echoes out over house from upstairs, the commotion jolting her out of bed a little too late.
Adrian doesn't hear her, neither does Gut, even if they did, it would have always gone down the way it did.
Before Gut can even get the chance to sit up, Adrian's on him, blood pouring from the open wound in his back, his vision doubling, his pulse rapidly ebbing away.
They'd die together, if need be.
With a hoarse shout, Adrian musters the remaining dregs of his energy, with Gut pinned beneath him and tears streaming down Adrian's face, he thrusts the knife downwards, intending to stab Gut in the throat, but the blurred vision from the blood loss meant his aim was way off, instead, the house filled with the blood-curdling screams from Gut as the knife plunged into his eye socket and Adrian collapsed in a heap on top of him, leaving the brothers both barely alive, in a bloody heap together, there in the ruins of their childhood living room.
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Evergreen, present day.
The Chase residence.
Gut stares blankly at the faded stain on the carpet, the one that had been hidden beneath a coffee table that replaced the old one that was broken. Slightly pinkish in colour, noticeable against the rest of the perfectly cream carpet. Why their mother had never bothered to just replace the whole thing, he'll never understand.
Regardless, it's a reminder of that night, standing out as if it were some kind of morbid time capsule, hidden in a feeble attempt to project the Chase family as 'normal' when visitors come around.
"Boss? Did you hear me?" The gruff voice on the other end of the phone planted against Gut's ear snaps him out of his daze. Nudging the coffee table back over the stain with his foot, covering up the family secret once more.
Back to composed and confident, in the blink of an eye. "I'm sorry, Luke, gonna need you to repeat that last part back to me."
"I said we've got eyes on the guy, he's staying at a motel close to the innerstate, you want us to deal with him?"
The corner of Gut's lip curls into a sneer, already planning out how he wants to send his message. "No. Killing him would be too messy right now, send me the address and I'll drive over. Oh and I'll pick up a little gift along the way for my sweet fiancée's friend…"
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Denver, Colorado - 8 and a half months ago.
"Buy you a drink?"
Over the chatter in the bar and the dull drone of the jukebox, a voice as sweet as pie grabs Gut's attention, though it wasn't immediately for the right reasons, not when everyone in that bar knows who he is and what he does, you're a new face though, beautiful and tempting with that honeyed smile you've got on your face.
He's immediately suspicious, women never just approach Gut, not when he's got an entourage of scary looking guys following him where ever he goes, he's not taking any risks now, not after James.
Luke — Gut's right hand man — places a hand on your shoulder, stocky and threatening, if the glare and the jagged scar across his throat doesn't warn you off, he'll happily take it upon himself to deal with you in a way that will leave no uncertainty about keeping away.
Tonight though, Gut is in the mood for some entertainment, it's been months since he'd had a woman and you're giving him those 'fuck me eyes' despite the ogre-like man blocking your way.
"Luke, down boy." Gut smirks at you, tilting his head to gesture to the empty seat beside him. "I'm sure a pretty thing like her wouldn't harm a fly, now would you sweetheart?"
Begrudgingly, Luke steps aside, eying you warily as you slip by his stocky frame to slide into the seat beside Gut, who wastes no time draping his arm around your shoulder, teasing his fingers up and down the strap of your tank top.
"Are you always so trusting?" You tease before lifting your glass, slipping your straw between your glossy lips, eyes big and full of promise and sin.
Gut just laughs, shifting closer to whisper in your ear. "If I were trusting, do you think I'd have a bunch of freaks surrounding this booth like I'm John Fucking Kennedy back from the dead?" He revels in the way you giggle when his teeth graze your ear lobe. "No sweetheart, I am not a trusting man, or a man you should trust or be talking to either, but here you are anyway."
Low and sultry, you reply, parroting his own words. "Here I am anyway."
He pulls back an inch as you turn your body inwards, facing him better, slowly running your finger along the rim of your glass. He catches the way your eyes dart to the door when a dark haired man exits the bar, it's momentary, blink and you'll miss it, but it's there, making sure to glue your gaze back to him and keep up whatever facade it is you've got in place, he'll play your game, take you home, let you seduce him in whatever way you're thinking of as you mentally undress him, but after that, when the morning comes and his men have done their digging, found out what your game is, you'll regret even being born.
"Yes you most certainly are." A hand on your thigh, slowly creeping upwards beneath the table. He feels your muscles jump beneath his touch. "You wanna buy me a drink sweetheart? I guess I can take you up on that offer, but I'm gonna need your name, baby, wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me if I didn't ask, now would it?"
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Evergreen, Present day.
Gut's known all along who you were, the fake last name didn't save you from anything, not having a social media presence didn't either. It didn't take long for him to put two and two together once he found out you were a private eye to figure out you were working for Castellano; a poorly laid trap from a desperate man who underestimated the lengths Gut would go to lure him into his own trap.
After being bailed out of jail the morning after the fight with Adrian, his dad picked him up from the station with a half-assed lecture about how they're both 'too old to be swinging punches at each other and causing a scene in public', it all went in one ear and out the other for Gut, drowning Paul out with his own loud thoughts of revenge and moving up the time-line.
The clock was ticking, and if Gut wanted everything to go according to plan, he'd have to move fast.
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What he hasn't counted on however, was getting home to a totally empty house, Penny was out, probably drowning her sorrows in midday wine with her sewing circle friends, nothing totally out of the ordinary on her part. Adrian was out too, thankfully.
And you? Not only were you not home, but all your stuff was gone out of Gut's room.
This was not part of the plan, in fact it derailed most of the fucking plan.
Immediate anger burns through him, that little weasel had gotten to you somehow, he knew Adrian had a thing for you, that was going to be integral to his plan anyway. If any of this was going to happen the way Gut needs it to, then you need to be found.
Luke is the first person he calls, answering within one ring.
"Boss? Everything oka–"
"Where is she? I need you to pull up the tracker right now and find that bitch, she's gone awol." He orders into the phone, spittle flying from his split lips.
"That's impossible, we've got Seth and Frankie keepin' an eye on your mom's house, we woulda known even before she got in her car if she was goin' somewhere."
"Did I say I wanted fucking excuses? No! She's not here." Gut marches across the room to the window, floorboards creaking beneath his heavy steps. "What the fuck? Where's Seth's car? It's not there??"
As each moment passes without explanation, Gut's temper flares further, searching for the SUV that's supposed to be parked outside the McClusky place at the end of the street.
"Boss, maybe they had to move the car? I'm sure there's a reasonable—"
"I said stop making excuses! That car is supposed to be there, she is supposed to be here and it is your job to find out where she's gone so I can drag her back here by her hair if I fucking have to, now find her, or I'm going to cut your throat again, and this time, I will let you bleed out, do you understand me Luke?"
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"Sooooo, run this by me again." Perched on the edge of the bathroom counter, Adrian sits, studying the smashed up air tag between his fingers. "You think Gut was tracking you because he doesn't trust you?"
Even you know your story is weak, you had to give Adrian something, that Gut won't just let you go that easily and he'd find both of you and your entire plan to 'run away together' would be foiled.
In reality, you knew the tracker was there the whole time, hidden between the seats, you let Gut think he was smarter than you, but your get out quick contingency plan didn't involve having Gut come after you or send his goons to do the job for him, you had enough information to give to Victor, things were getting too dangerous now, if the man wasn't happy with it, you'd give him his fucking money back if need he. Well, most of it anyway.
Poking your head out from behind the shower curtain, you throw a saccharine smile Adrian's way. "I'm just saying, he's never been the most trusting guy, Adrian, I mean, Christ, if he could have run a background check on me when we first started dating, I'm sure he would have!"
The irony isn't lost on you entirely, as well as you tried to cover your tracks with Gut, you knew a man like him wasn't just going to let someone in without a little digging first, you didn't expect that he'd put a tracker on Alex's car too though, he must have had that done months ago, anticipating whatever your next move was going to be. It wasn't something you were going to admit to Alex either, suggesting to him that perhaps it was Adrian who vandalized his car was an attempt to protect him from the truth and having him panic over the prospect of being targeted by a drug-peddling crime syndicate.
Adrian's lips twist, unsure, though he concedes anyway. "I guess… Hey! On our way to Vegas, can we do some sight seeing? Ooh! Ooh! I know! There's this really cool exhibition about spiders in—" Interrupted by a loud rapping at the door to your hotel room, a noise you barely hear with your head back beneath the running water. "Darn it, I'll be right back, it's probably room service at the wrong door or something, don't go anywhere! I wanna tell you about the cool spider place and then maybe we can fuck again!"
"Huh? Adrian I didn't catch a word of what you just said?" Your voice echoes out in the empty bathroom, Adrian's already crossed the threshold padding across the carpet with the world's gaudiest pattern he's ever laid eyes on, ready to redirect the hotel staff so he can get back to you as quick as possible.
Resigning yourself to the fact that he's just gotten distracted in the next room by the TV or a moth flying in through the window, you go back to lathering your hair, humming that one song that's been stuck in your head for weeks.
Half way through the first rinse, you hear the first crash, followed by another, and another. Water off, suds not entirely out of your hair, you move quickly and carefully to get out of the shower.
"Adrian? What the fuck was all that noise?" You call out, grabbing one of the complimentary fuzzy bathrobes off the back of the bathroom door, shrugging it on as water drips off your body, trailing behind you on the tiled floor. "Adrian?"
Two muffled pops from the next room startle you, all self-preservation going out the window when you fling open the bathroom door and dart out into the room.
Blood. Streaked across the beige striped wallpaper in handprints and smears, splattered on the lush carpet between your toes, furniture overturned and picture frames off the walls, and in the centre of it all, Adrian.
Kneeling over a man with a pillow pressed over his face, struggling limbs flailing. From the open wound on his abdomen his guts spill out of him, still alive somehow, still suffering and fighting even if it's pointless to try.
Pop! Pop!
The pillow muffled the gun somewhat, but you still felt yourself jump, stomach turning at the scene playing out in front of you. It can't have been more than a few minutes since Adrian left the bathroom, and in that time he's managed to turn the entire hotel room into something that would rival a slasher movie. You knew what Gut was capable of, you knew about their past and how Adrian was the one that took Gut's eye, the fight at Fennel Fields… This though? You would have never thought Adrian was capable of horrors like this.
Even after the man has long stopped moving and his blood is pooling beside his head, Adrian smiles, wide and proud as he tosses the gun aside and pulls off the pillow to stare down at the of the man he's just butchered, shoulders heaving with every panting breath he takes. Splashes of crimson dot his face, speckling his curls, and yet he doesn't look like he has a single scratch on him, none of the blood coating his body or his clothes belongs to him.
A few feet away is a second body, face down, draped over the end of the bed, the perfectly white sheets now dyed with the man's blood from the multiple stab wounds on his back, shot in the head just like the one at Adrian's feet.
He still hasn't noticed you, watching on in horror where you stand, skin and hair still saturated, a chill running through you that's nothing to do with the temperature.
When Adrian finally does see you, his demeanor doesn't change a bit, still with that same face splitting smile, perking up immediately like a puppy excited to see it's owner. Like he hasn't just brutally murdered two strangers in a matter of minutes.
"Babe, what are you doing out of the shower already? Silly goose, you haven't even got all the soap out of your hair! C'mon, let's get you back in there and I can join you too! I did get a little messy out here, I guess." Joking and maniacally laughing at the state of his clothes, too casual about it, the unhinged glint in his eye scares the shit out of you.
You're out of the frying pan and into the fire here.
He's striding towards you before you can even find the strength to speak, eyes darting around the space looking for anything you can use as a weapon, the discarded bloodied shards of glass he'd used to end these strangers lives. There's no time.
When he's close enough you move, catching him off guard with a harsh shove that sends him falling onto his ass into the edge of the bed, leaving you with just enough time to make a sprint for the door, tugging it open and opening your mouth about to scream for help—
Big arms encircle your waist, a bloodied palm covering your mouth to smother the scream as he pulls you back inside the room, kicking and scratching at any bare piece of flesh you can dig your nails into.
"Stop! Stop! I'm not going to hurt you! Ow! Okay that's gonna scar. Ugh, c'mon calm down otherwise someone's gonna call the cops on us!" Not panicked, but placating, even as you squirm and fight in his grip, thrashing around in an attempt to get him to let go. He won't though, Adrian just holds you tight, his back against the door as he attempts to soothe you with kisses and words of comfort as if he were any other loving partner. He let's you tire yourself out, wear yourself down, tears dampen your cheeks, eyes squeezed shut to avoid looking at the carnage in the room.
When your breathing finally begins to even out and you're no longer trying to blindly gouge his eyes out, Adrian loosens his hold just a fraction, just enough to turn you in his arms, jade eyes all big and concerned behind his glasses.
"Alright, I'm going to take my hand off your mouth now, only if you promise not to scream, okay? Nod once if you understand."
There was no hint of threat in his tone, no underlying promise that you'll end up gutted just like the man on the floor, he's not going to hurt you, even if everything in your body is still telling you to run.
You nod once and he makes good on his promise, shifting his hand from your mouth to cradle your cheek instead.
"Did I scare you? Shit. I'm sorry baby, I meant it when I said I'd never hurt you, you believe me, don't you?" Blood smears over the apple of your cheek where he strokes his thumb in an attempt to soothe you.
You don't know what to believe anymore, but you do know that lying through your teeth has saved your ass so far, so you're not about to stop now. Keep pretending to be meek and frightened, not that the last part is too difficult to fake right at this moment anyway.
"I-I do." Even you know how pathetic you sound, sniveling like that, but Adrian's easy to manipulate as you've already found.
"Good, that's good. I'm sorry you had to see all that, but those guys were gonna hurt you, and I couldn't let that happen, so I hurt them first."
"Me? What makes you think that?"
"Well, I answered the door thinking it was room service and I was gonna have to tell them 'Hey, no thank you, we didn't order the lobster!', but when I got there it was these two huge dudes and they muscled their way into the room demanding to know where you were, and then they heard the shower running and… Well, all hell broke loose after that, I guess."
Daring a glance over your shoulder, immediately wishing you hadn't, but needing to brave it anyway, you see the face of the man on the ground and instantly recognize him.
Seth.
One of Gut's men, you'd seen him enough back in Colorado to remember his face, Gut must have had him follow you as a back up in case the tracker offline.
This isn't something you were anticipating.
"Hey, so, uh, I know it's a bad time to ask and all, but like, are these guys exes of yours too or something?"
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After the world's quickest do-over shower to get the soap out of your hair and scrub your skin raw in the places where Adrian got you bloody, you re-emerge, dressed and weary of what comes next.
And for the second time that day, you step out of the bathroom to find something unexpected.
Adrian's finishing up rolling up the bodies into the sheets, but he's also changed. Out of his jeans and comfy sweatshirt, and into a full body armored suit, black and padded in places, with a teal and white stripes across the chest.
"What the fuck?" At this point, those three words may as well be your motto.
"Huh?" Adrian dumps the body he's holding with very little finesse, spinning on his heel in an instant at the sound of your voice. "Oh this? Okay! I was going to surprise you after we got married, but I guess I can spoil the surprise just this once!"
You watch on, dumbfounded as he practically skips over to his travel bag, pulling out the final piece of his suit, tucking away his glasses before tugging the mask over his head, arms stretched out in a wide stance once it's secured in place.
" Ta-da!"
Brow furrowed and puzzled, you try and work out what he's doing. "Uhhh, nice nightwing cosplay? Think the mask is a little off though."
"What? No!" He sulks. "I'm Vigilante! And no, I'm not dressing up as Vigilante, I am Vigilante! Wait… wait, here, I'll show you." Pulling his phone out of some hidden pocket on his suit, hastily tapping something into it as he crosses the room to you. "See! Unknown man wanted by Evergreen police for graffiti slaughter, that's me! I'm 'Unknown man'!"
Of course he is.
OF COURSE HE IS.
How could the Chase family get any weirder?! As if having a cocaine trafficking murderer for an oldest son wasn't enough, their youngest was a guy who ran around killing people while dressed up like a superhero. Oh, and he has super-fast healing powers.
And you thought your family was fucked up.
Unsure of how long you've been silently processing this news, adding to the already existing slew of fuckery you've experienced in the past year, fake engaged to one murderer and now another, apparently? That's two too many fake engagements to murderers! What are you doing with your life??
"Oh, okay? Cool?" Ultimately, a very underwhelming response is all you can muster right now, the past few days have drained away your physical and mental energy almost entirely, Adrian on the other hand seems to have a bottomless well of energy.
As you busy yourself with packing away the rest of your belongings, Adrian follows at your heels, not giving you an inch of space to yourself.
"Is that it? I was expecting more of a reaction than that. Maybe like a sharp gasp of shock, like this!" Physically jumping into your peripheral, Adrian gasps dramatically, slapping a gloved hand over his mouth, mimicking the reception he thought he'd get from you, and maybe if you weren't so stressed out by the entire fucked up nature of the situation you're in, you might have laughed.
Instead you just keep packing, stuffing your clothes and the bathrobe you stole into your bag with little-to-no organizational care.
"I don't think those bathrobes are for people to take, you know?"
Something in your glare must make him realise it's time for him to shut up, even if you can't see his expression beneath the mask, his quick shuffle away from you says he got the message.
" What exactly happens now?" Dreading the answer to that particular question, you ask it anyway, chancing a glance over at the bodies, wrapped up in sheets, blood seaping through the once perfectly white linens, not that the floor and the walls faired any better, it's a miracle none of the neighboring rooms called front desk to at least lodge a noise complaint.
"It's cool! I know people that can clean this all up, it'll be like we were never here!" He's just so self assured, too casual and confident, lazily flipping a large knife between his fingers like it was nothing.
With a muttered and deflated 'of course you do' you force the zipper on your bag to close up before striding back into the bathroom to dry your hair, the door firmly closing behind you as you go.
"No wife of mine is going to be a common thief, she's lucky she's cute, no way would I let anyone else get away with that in front of me!" Left to his own devices, Adrian extracts the robe out of your bulging bag, tossing it under the bed out of sight, dusting off his hands as he calls out to you."Hey babe, what do you think of being called Mrs.Vigilante? I think it has a nice ring to it!"
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Having to trust Adrian when he says his 'people' will get the bodies and the mess left behind in your hotel room all cleaned up wasn't easy, your stomach has been in knots ever since you walked in on him going John Wick on Gut's men, nothing about all this so far has been simple, you can practically see the orange jumpsuit waiting for you now.
He'd told you to go wait out in the parking lot for him while he makes a few calls, keep the engine running in his Sebring, so that's what you did, idly flicking at the bobblehead rabbit on his dashboard while you wait for him to emerge, hopefully back in his civilian clothes for the sake of being inconspicuous.
The plan now was to drive to Nevada, get married, spend a few months out west while everything dies down in Evergreen, or at least, that's what you'd lead Adrian to believe, in actuality, you were going to get as close to Colorado as possible before making a break for it, take his car and leave him at the gas station while he pays, maybe?
Of course, you felt awful about manipulating him like that, breaking his heart, but what were you supposed to do? You weren't going to marry Adrian, he was sweet, but you didn't have any real feelings for him and you had a life waiting for you back in Denver, albeit not a great one.
You're daydreaming, flipping between scenarios in your head where you don't end up incarcerated, dead or being married to a sociopath by an Elvis impersonator, too caught up in what could happen in the future when your guard is down, too lax with your focus on the present, too distracted to notice the car pulling up behind you, boxing you in with no where to run…
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For Gut, inflicting pain without the guilt was easy, he didn't even have to think about it, not when it came to Adrian, not when it came to James Castellano, and he's sure as shit not going to make an exception for you.
You look so pretty and helpless there, wrists and ankles bound together, laying in a naked heap on the floor. For a moment he indulges in reminiscing about the time the two of you spent together, not dumb enough to ever think any of it was real, of course, but you'd been such a good actress this entire time that you certainly had plenty of other people fooled.
Like Adrian, for example. He knew from the get go that Adrian liked you, he let him have you, he watched back the footage from the camera hidden in his mother's kitchen, he listened to Adrian tell you his sob story about how badly treated he was by Gut, he endured every tedious second of it, cracking open a beer as he watched the two of you fuck like bunnies on the very same table he used to do his homework at. It would have stung if Gut actually thought of you in any capacity other than just another stepping stone.
It's been a week since he snatched you up in that parking lot, right out of Adrian's car after Luke tracked down Seth's car to the hotel the two of you were holed up in, three days since he sent a text from your phone to Alex with information about where the drop off is going to happen, two days since he's let you have a drop of water or a moment to feel anything other than agony.
Your weak groans are like a song to him, pleading whimpers barely audible over the internal tick tick tick Gut hears in his head, mentally counting down the hours until Victor makes his appearance, that's when the real show will begin.
Gut could just let you die now, God knows you're one deep cut away from bleeding out on the cold steel floor beneath you anyway, but where would be the fun in that?
No, if you were going to die, it would be in the inferno with everyone else, Victor, Alex, Adrian, you'd all be fingered for this instead of Gut, who'd be half way to Canada before the coronors would even be able to identify your bodies. All for the low cost of half of his stash, one he'd soon rebuild in a short amount of time anyway. Truthfully this was just to tie up some loose ends on his part, he'd leave behind enough trace DNA to suggest he perished here too, he'd feel bad for his mother and father losing both their sons if he wasn't so detached and devoid of any feelings for them anyway. They'll get over it.
Your eyes are almost entirely swollen shut, two puffy slits where your iris's follow Gut's footsteps as he slowly paces back and forth in front of you. You think your ankles broken, each time you shift your leg pain radiates up it, you wouldn't be surprised if more bones were broken than just that.
"What sounds more like you, hm? 'babe' or 'baby'?" Gut isn't really asking your opinion, drafting a message to Adrian to explain what happened and why you went AWOL for the last week, hatching a plan to get him here. "I know I was fond of the pet names, you're so cute when you're lying right to my face." He pauses, crouching down, balanced on his heels right beside your head. "How's this sound? 'Adrian, baby, I'm so sorry for running out on you, I just got so overwhelmed by it all, I needed some space to think, but I know what I want now and it's you, meet me and we can talk about this?' and then maybe a bunch of heart emojis or whatever, I don't fucking care, I think he'll jizz in his pants and jump at the chance to meet up with you. Nice show the two of you put on by the way, I can't lie, made me consider the idea of fucking you one final time myself… Something to remember you by."
Your body, battered and broken at the hands of the man beside you, flinches at his touch, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine, wordlessly telling you that he's not above taking what he wants from you while you're still breathing.
A sadistic smile spread across Gut's face when you attempt to talk, cracked lips opening and closing, but no noise come out, fighting so hard to form whatever pathetic plea you've cooked up to the point where the splits around your mouth open back up, fresh dribbles of blood painting your lips.
"C-closer…" It hurts to speak, your voice hoarse from dehydration and the pained sobs that wracked through you in the first 24 hours of being under Gut's captivity, it was hardly worth it, you'd wished you were able to say more, to tell him you were going to cut his dick off and force feed it to him, that you were going to be the one to bleed him like a slaughtered pig, you'd already imagined all the ways you were going to kill him; when he'd taken a knife to your skin and carved his initials in your flesh, it was the only thing that kept you going, picturing Gut begging for mercy.
This is your next best option.
"Oh sweetheart, what d'ya want? You want me to kiss it better for you? Or do you want something else?" Gut coos, condescendingly tutting as he leans in closer to you, cupping your jaw with the same hand that had beaten in your face hours earlier, knuckles bloodied and scabbing over already.
He should have seen it coming honestly, any idiot knows how this thing goes in the movies, the injured party feigns weakness, beckoning the bad guy to get close enough to them to plunge a concealed knife into them.
You don't have that option. So you have to work with what you do have.
There's no hesitation on your end, acting as if you're straining to get whispered words out, he turns his head and you go for it.
It's definitely no where as easy as they make it look in the movies either, you'd managed to get a good hold on his outer lobe between your teeth, the tangy and metallic taste of blood filling your mouth and for the first time in days, it's not your own.
The agonizing screams from Gut only serve to make you bite down harder, through cartilage and chewy flesh as he fights to push you away, even with your hands bound you're winning this fight somehow, sheer adrenaline and hatred fueling this one-sided melee, you'd taken him off guard the moment your teeth sank into his ear, he'd been too cocky and self-assured that he'd be the one inflicting any pain today.
And then he swings, hard. A fist into the side of your head over and over again, it makes your vision go spotty around the edges, but you don't let go, you feel the rounded edge of his ear tearing away between your teeth, his yells only getting louder and more pained.
A forceful smack to your stomach is what finally gets you to let go, his men had come running just a little too late, you're back in a heap on the ground as he's pulled away from you, hollaring and swearing, blood gushing from the side of his head as he clamps his hand over it.
You're winded, but you can't seem to bring yourself to care about the extra pain and injuries to your own body, right now you're not even sure you're capable of feeling much more pain than you already were anyway, but you're smiling. Wide and face splitting, his blood coating your teeth, mouth, chin, dripping down your bare chest, the rubbery flap of skin between your jaws that was once attached to him.
When you spit it out, it bounces across the floor landing at his feet like a cat has just left a gift for it's owner.
"You fucking bitch! I'm going to slit your throat and fuck your corpse!"
There it is, the monster you've been sharing a bed with for the better part of a year. You'd feel dirty about it if the prospect of a fat paycheck and your pride hadn't gotten in the way. If you'd taken Alex's advice and just accepted defeat, you wouldn't be here, naked and tied up, about to be brutally killed in front of an audience of men who wouldn't even bat an eyelid while watching it happen.
You should be afraid, you should be cowering in fear in your last moments, but somehow you can't bring yourself to feel anything but numb. Ready, even.
Blood gushes from the wound at the side of Gut's head as he stalks towards you, staggering in his foot steps, fumbling for his knife in his jacket pocket, his eye darker than dark itself.
No one is going to stop him, you can't stop this.
All you can do, is lift your chin higher and wait for the inevitable end.
You focus on what you can hear, your heartbeat thundering behind your ribcage, the snarls from your former fiancé, the machinery whirring somewhere far off in the warehouse you're in and a bang outside that gets the attention of Luke who waits by the shutters, followed by another, closer this time.
That's the last thing you remember before it happened, an explosion that rocked the entire building, the impact forcing you to the floor so hard you pass out as chaos erupts around you.
════════════════════════════════
After leaving the hotel room, Adrian was practically sprinting to the parking lot, full of glee over the idea of running away with you, going off to get married. Sure, the two of you would eventually have to return to Evergreen, but that was going to be months down the line
That never happened.
When he'd found the car empty, door wide open on the passenger side he'd known something was wrong.
You wouldn't just run out on him like that!
You wouldn't jilt him before the two of you have even gotten to the altar!
"Dude, I'm asking for a favour, just this once! Please?"
John Economos wouldn't exactly consider Adrian a 'friend' more of an acquaintance that he can't shake, like that bad smell in the back of his car that he can't locate.
"Just this once? Come on Adrian, you just asked me to hack into this fucking security footage and scrub it and now you want me to do it again for the same hotel, this time their parking lot?" The bearded man repeats back to him bluntly, pinning him with a hard stare over the top of his laptop.
" Well when you put it that way, it does kinda sound like I ask for a lot of favours." Adrian mutters, fidgeting with a springy pen topper poking out of John's desk organizer. "But this isn't for me! This is for my fiancée!"
John barks out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Fiancée?! You? Fuck off! Of all the bullshit lies you've told Adrian—"
"But I do thoughhh, fuck!" He whinges. "Seriously, for real this time, she's totally hot too and she's missing! We were gonna elope to Vegas, but she just kinda, disappeared?"
"First of all, I don't believe anyone would be insane enough to marry you. Secondly, how come you can get a whole fiancée, meanwhile I'm lucky if I get hit on by the old lady at the library with no teeth."
"I thought you said you don't believe me!"
"I don't! But I know if I don't do this you're just gonna stand there and fucking bitch at me all day." John sighs in resignation, immediately setting to work at hacking into the hotels security systems again — something that doesn't take him long, given the weak firewalls he'd practically jizzed over the first time around.
Adrian rounds the desk to hover over John's shoulder anxiously, chewing at his nails, ignoring every frustrated huff from the man he considers to be his 5th best friend.
Soon enough the fuzzy camera footage is on screen, looking out over the west side of the parking lot where Adrian's cream colored Sebring was waiting.
"What time did you say you left the hotel?" John mumbles, disinterest in his tone that conveys the sheer lack of faith he has in Adrian's words.
"Well I left around 2.40. P.M! That is, not A.M. B-but she left before me, I told her to wait in the car while I made some calls. Probably around 2.15?"
John narrows his eyes at Adrian over his shoulder. "Oh you mean the clean up crew call you made to Harcourt? I swear to God, Adrian, you're like a fucking hurricane, just leaving a trail of destruction where ever you go."
For some reason, Adrian takes this as a compliment, a face splitting grin lighting up his features."Thank you."
"Fuck off." Turning back to his laptop with a grumble, Johm scrolls through the time stamps, zooming in on Adrian's car to see the outline of someone sitting in the passenger seat around the time Adrian said you'd be there.
"See! I told you she was real!" Adrian points excitedly at the screen.
"Yeah well, that could be an inflatable girlfriend for all I know." He mutters. "Oh, hold on?" Slowing the scroll as a navy blue pick-up pulls up behind the Sebring, boxing it in, John glances at Adrian once more. "You recognize that?"
He does. Instantly Adrian's stomach is aching, thinking you've ditched him to go back to Gut.
"That's my brothers truck. Slow it down a little more?"
Adrian leans in closer to the screen as John quietly obliges.
"Your brothers back in town? Christ, you called me up last week to have a 20-minute conversation about a duck you saw, but you didn't think I'd find it interesting that your brothers back?"
Adrian ignores Economos' questioning, too focused on the screen, watching as Gut steps out of his truck and rounds his way to the passenger side of the car, holding something in his hand that's half concealed by his sleeve.
He practically rips the door open, inside the car he can make out your figure scrambling into the drivers side in an attempt to get away, only to be yanked back by your ankle, pulled out of the car while Gut jabs his hand into your abdomen.
Your expression is too blurred to make out, but he doesn't need to see anymore to know you're in trouble. You didn't run off with Gut, he took you.
Adrian's gone before John can even turn around, he needs to find you.
"Well. Holy shit, she is real, and I mean she's pretty blurry, so I'm gonna have to take your word on her being hot— huh? Adrian? Where the fuck?" John sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, skewing his glasses. "Okay, if that psycho can get laid, so can I."
════════════════════════════════
Alarms blare in your ears, the wind completely knocked out of you as you gasp for air only to inhale smoke, thick plumes settling around you where you lay helpless, coughing and wheezing.
You try to yell for help, but nothing comes out, just a dry sputtered sound that makes you heave and gag.
Around you there are shouts in every direction, some pained, some calling for help, others directing one another all over the top of gunfire.
You don't hear Gut though, the explosion happened before he'd gotten a chance to make good on his threats to end your life, a part of you hope he perished in the explosion, but an even bigger part of you hopes he's still alive, cowering somewhere injured like a wounded animal. You still have that spark of hope that you're going to be able to fulfill the fantasy of being the last face he ever sees.
Rapid footsteps in your direction pull you out of that lingering daydream, sure that Gut is coming back to get the upper hand until you hear a voice calling your name, laced with panic, covering your bloodied body with a jacket, your eyes sting and blur from the smoke, unable to make out the person standing over you, who it is that's scooping you into their arms.
The high pitched ringing in your ears muddying the voice, your head slumped against their shoulder, jostling your body over and over, making you feel sea sick. Bullets whizz past, you hear them richochet off metal, the warehouse groaning as another small explosion on the other side of the building erupts.
You're trying to stay awake, you think you hear the voice of the person pulling out of there talking to you, but it all sounds far away and muffled, your eyes are barely open, a combination of days of torture and smoke inhalation weakening you to a shell.
Cold air hits your bare legs, dangling in arms of the person who dragged you out of a battlefield, the chill kisses each open cut and gash in your flesh painfully.
"I've got her! Hey! Call your men off!" You're being bundled into the back of a car by the time your hearing stops muffling the voice, puffy eyes cracking open just enough to see the fuzzy outline of your best friend, and the man who tried to talk you out of this whole mess in the first place.
"A-lex?"
"I'm serious Victor! The police are gonna be here any fucking minute, Gut is gone! We need to get her to a fucking hospital!" Desperation leaks out in his voice, tugging at the ties off your wrists and ankles.
Your strained recognition had gone unnoticed, weakly turning your head to see who he's talking to in the front seat, another blur of hair and shapes.
"You don't tell me what to do. I've paid both of you to find this cunt, it's not over until I say it's over, now sit back and shut the fuck up before I decide to bury you both in the same grave I intend to put Gut in!"
A radio clicks on in the front seat and you're barely hanging on, head lolling on the leather seat beneath you.
"No. You don't get to fucking die like this, okay? You've got nieces and a nephew waiting back home that miss you." A floaty feeling takes over you, a warmth either side of your face as Alex holds you between his hands, his voice fading and echoey. "It's okay, you're gonna be okay, you can't fucking die on me, I swear to god. I need you to hold on—"
"Any eyes on Chase? He couldn't have gotten far, I put a fucking bullet in his leg as he was running away like the chicken shit coward that he is."
Radio static followed by a short beep, the warmth of Alex's tears on your skin, the pain dissipating and ebbing away, your breathing getting more and more shallow by the second.
"Yeah, we've got him, but I'm not sure you're gonna like what we found, Victor."
════════════════════════════════
Gravel and shrapnel embed themselves into Gut's palms, his leg dragging behind him as he has to resort to crawling to safety, he'd somehow gotten away from Victor, maybe he should have seen it coming, that he'd come in all guns blazing like that, another stupid mistake to add to the ever growing pile.
He thought he could outsmart him, lure him, maybe Gut was double crossed, maybe one of his men was working against him?
It's too late to think about it, there's a boat waiting for him at the end of the docks, his getaway and back up plan for if everything went south, a failsafe, should he need it.
And right now he needs it bad.
Every inch closer is an effort, he'd been able to run only so far before his leg gave out on him entirely, searing agony ripping through him, from the missing chunk of his ear to the bullet lodged in his thigh, trailing blood behind him.
All he has to do is get on that fucking boat and get to a doctor who will see to him, cash under the table, no questions asked, he knows a few people like that anyway. After that, he can disappear and start over just like he intended to, it'll work out, it always works out for him.
Army crawling at a snails pace, his grunts strained, echoing out in the stockyard, bouncing off the stacked-high shipping containers.
Only a little further now, he just needs to push a little longer.
Gloved fingers in his hair draw his head back, smashing his face into the ground over and over again, Gut had no time to react, no time to even realise what was happening before it happened, he didn't hear anyone around him, and that's what he wanted.
Blood fills Gut's mouth as his mangled teeth fly across the asphalt, pooling in the back of his throat, smothering his agonized yells, he hears the sound of his nose cracking, he feels bone splintering through his skin and there's not a fucking thing he can do to stop it, no amount of begging or pleading will help.
Dragged backwards by his hair, Gut flounders, whimpering for his attacker to stop, promising money, coke, whatever they want! Further admitting his crimes to a person who prefers to take justice into their own hands.
His frail body flies into the side of a shipping container, thrown by his so-far silent assailant, his body making a sickening thud on impact.
Gut can't move, he felt something snap in his lower extremities, slumped over, a sobbing, bleeding mess, at the mercy of a stranger who seems intent on inflicting as much pain as possible.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Is all he repeats over and over again, blood and spittle flying out of his mouth between pathetic wails, he's not even sure what he's apologizing for.
Weakly, he raises his head, vision blurred with tears, the shipping yards lighting doing little to help bring the person looming over him into focus, teals and blacks merging into one swirl of colour, the glint of light bouncing off a red visor.
It was always going to happen this way, the timing just had to be right.
"Where is she?" The man above him demands once, giving Gut a singular opportunity to answer, poised to make his next move at any given moment, waiting like a snake about to strike.
"W-who?"
Before Gut can even take another breath, his shoulder is painfully pinned to the container behind him, the sharpened tip of a blade pressing hard into the underside of his chin, the masked man crouched over him, making sure his focus is solely on him.
Your name is spat at Gut, his voice lowered to an impatient growl, digging the knife harder into the supple skin, enough to draw a trickle of blood.
"Your fucking fiancée?? Where is she, you tell me now or I swear I'll cut your other eye out!"
Gut stills, frozen in place, all fruitless attempts at pulling away ceased as the pieces slot together in his mind.
"Adrian?" Gut croaks, wincing when his attacker suddenly pulls away, pacing a few feet in front of him, back and forth a few times over before he eventually stops, ripping the mask off and tossing it to Gut's unmoving feet.
Adrian had moved fast after he got that text message Gut sent from your phone, he'd been trying to track it all week anyway, but when that text came through and the phone was on and trackable again, he didn't hesitate, suiting up and speeding to the warehouse where your location pinged, getting there just in time to witness the first explosion.
"Surprise, I guess." Emotionless, uncaring that Gut is finally seeing Adrian as Vigilante, there's only one thing he cares about, and that's you. He's back on Gut in a flash, pressing his knee hard into his ribcage, making his brother wheeze and struggle for air. "Where is she, Gut?! What did you do to her?!"
Gut recognizes the desperation in Adrian's eyes, that same glossy eyed look he had as a little boy when he'd beg Gut to stop hurting him.
Despite the threat of certain torture, a slow smirk spreads across Gut's bloody face, his gums a fleshy red where his teeth are missing. And then he starts laughing, loud belly laughs that take Adrian off guard, panic and confusion rising within him.
"What the fuck are you laughing about? Tell me where she is!"
Pressing his knee more forcefully into Gut's chest winds him, a harsh gasp for air silences any laughter, but the smirk still remains.
He tries to speak, but when only a rumbled croak comes out, Adrian eases up a touch.
"You're… the idiot… running around town… playing dress-up?"
Gut was practically pissing his pants before, when he didn't know the masked vigilante was Adrian, he was on the cusp of begging for his life and now he thinks it's funny?!
Adrian flicks his knife out from the holster once more, holding it level with Gut's eye.
"You have about 5 seconds to tell me where she is before I rip this eye out and take it as a fucking trophy."
Gut stays smiling, it makes Adrian feel uneasy, as if Gut still thinks he's the one with all the power here, despite everything Adrian has done to him in the last 10 minutes.
"Actually, it makes sense. You always did like to play pretend. What? You think you're some hero now? You think—" Gut sputters and coughs, blood splattering over Adrian's suit. "—You think, that you're any better than I am? I've read about the things you've done in the paper. We're the same, little brother."
Adrian's barely holding on, his hand shakes with the effort it takes not to plunge the blade deep into Gut's eye, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt.
"We are not the same! You made me this way! I had to do this because of you!" He screams in Gut's face, hot angry tears welling at his waterline. "Everything you did to me made me what I am today! I protect people!" Tossing the blade aside in favour of his fists, Adrian starts swinging. "I stop people like you! I'm a good person! I'm NOTHING like you!"
Left, right, left, right, over and over again, Adrian's fists pummel into Gut's face, blood and teeth and spittle flying in every direction, not letting up for a single second, the wet, fleshy punches only dampen Adrian's grunts and growls.
And still, Gut smiles.
When Adrian's finally had enough, when he can feel his knuckles opening up, filling the inside of his gloves with his own blood, he stops, leaning over to pick up his knife again, grabbing Gut by the throat and slamming him hard into the solid metal behind his head.
"Last chance, Gut. TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!"
As much of an unrecognizable mess Gut's face is, the gap-filled smile is the one thing Adrian will always remember after this night. The sick satisfaction that somehow never left Gut's face even while he was beaten to a pulp. It's something that would haunt him.
"She's dead. I… killed her. I slit… that's pretty throat of hers,made her beg for her life… " He utters it with such believable conviction, Gut knows it's not true, but Adrian doesn't. One last power play, one last chance to torture the brother he never wanted. "…But not before… she bit my ear almost entirely clean off, fucking cunt."
As Gut's last words hiss from his lips,Adrians control slips, squeezing Gut's throat so tight he can't breathe, no longer able to spew any more vitriol about the woman he loves.
Adrian's eyes sting, trying to hold back the flood of tears, even if the sobs break free.
"You took everything from me!" Adrian's gut wrenching anguished cries echo out, as much as he's trying to steady his breaths, to not completely fall apart, he has to end it, for good.
Gut weakly claws at the hand around his throat, ugly gargled noises are all he can make.
He's not smiling now.
At the last second, before Gut's air is completely cut off, Adrian rips his hand from his throat clamping it over his mouth instead, pressing down on his ribcage with his knee once again until there's a sickening crack.
All Gut can do is howl in pain behind his brothers gloved hand as he breaks him apart piece by piece.
Composing himself enough to get a steady hand, Adrian slowly brings the blade up to Gut's eye once more, he wants Gut to feel all of this, every agonising second, he knows if he gives into the fury and pain he's feeling, that he'd just drive the knife into Gut's eye. That would be too much of a quick death if it penetrated his brain, it had been sheer luck that the incident years ago hadn't killed Gut in the first place.
No, he'll make it hurt.
"I am nothing like you. I am nothing like you!" Through gritted teeth, Adrian snarls down at Gut, wide eyed in panic beneath his younger brother, forced to endure every modicum of pain he's about to experience.
The tip of the freshly sharpened blade sinks into Gut's eye, beneath Adrian's knee he feels his torso jerk, shoulders shaking as his muffled screams tear from his throat.
Adrian makes no haste with it, the first time he'd blinded Gut in one eye was an accident, this time it was intentional torture, payback for over three decades of his own personal torment.
An eye for an eye.
When the knife is about 2 inches deep into Gut's orbital socket, Adrian yanks, a gush of blood pours from the exposed hole in Gut's face, his cries and screams gradually weakening with the rapid blood loss. Holding his knife up in the moonlight, Adrian inspects his trophy, attached nerves wiggling with every subtle shift.
Maybe he'll keep it as a memento, in his secret room where his mom will never see it.
Or maybe he'll feed it to Eagly as a treat, he'll decide on that later.
As Adrian pockets Gut's eye and sheathes his knife, he glances down at his big brother, he thought he'd feel relief once this moment came, that it would wash over him like a tidal wave, but as he takes in Gut's mangled face, as he watches the blood bubble and ooze from between his lips, listening to his death rattle, he feels nothing, no satisfaction in making his Gut suffer.
And so, that's enough for him to convince himself that they're nothing alike.
════════════════════════════════
Victor stands over Gut's dead body, brows set in a deep frown, hands on hips, analyzing what he's seeing.
It's definitely him, that white-pupiled glass eye is pretty much the only identifier left, the rest of him is mutilated beyond recognition. Whoever did this had a score to settle, just like he did.
"Good job, Luke, thank you for bringing me to him." Victor mutters his praise to the former righthand man of his brothers murderer, his rival, and without even glancing in his direction, Victor raises the pistol in his hand, pointing it at Luke's head, firing once.
The mountainous man collapses into a heap, blood and brain matter oozing out onto the concrete.
Victor sighs heavily, taking a step closer to Gut's body, flanked by his own trusty henchman. He nudges at Gut's body with the polished tip of his boot, looking around once, hoping the person who did this might still be nearby, hiding in the shadows. He doesn't know if he'd shake their hand or strangle them for taking away his chance at revenge, but one things for certain, Gut got what he deserved.
"Andiamo! (let's go!) Get their bodies in the trunk and let's get the fuck out of here, we've still got a mess to clean up and unfinished business." Spitting on Gut's body before he turns on heel back to the car, Victor can finally take solace in knowing James was avenged, one way or another.
════════════════════════════════
Two years later, Alberquerque, New Mexico.
On paper, you were dead.
So was Alex and his entire family, all of you had vanished off the face of the earth after that night in Evergreen.
You still bear the scars, your ankle never healed properly so each step is a painful limp, your pride was wounded the most though, unable to let go of the guilt that if you'd just said no in the first place, dealt with the shit storm of losing a business you were so desperately trying to hold onto, that none of this would have ever happened.
You wouldn't be alone, forced to live in seclusion, under a false identity, a stolen name and social security, neither would Alex and his family, neither of you are allowed to know where each other are, you don't entirely remember how you got here either, the last thing you really remember is the warehouse and the explosion.
You'd basically been dumped here, in clothes that didn't belong to you, in a house that was conveniently empty and furnished, with a note you were instructed to burn immediately and a paltry remainder of cash left for you to start over.
So you did. Your neighbours knew you as the quiet one, they saw you come and go every so often, you'd limit your trips to the grocery store, each time you left the house you felt like you were being watched, paranoid that the people behind those twitching curtains across the street were people who were hiding their time, waiting to hurt you.
You made money any way you could, which meant you'd had to suck up your pride once again, your Etsy shop didn't exactly rake it in, but you did okay most months.
Every Tuesday at noon, like clock-work you get back from the store, ripping open a new plastic package for your allocated 5 minute call to Alex over a burner phone. The two of you allow yourselves only that, time to check in with each other, sending one email a week to each other with a brand new number to call each time.
Your wine glass never seems to be empty these days, taking a swift glug as you wedge the phone between your ear and your shoulder, counting the rings in your head, waiting on tenterhooks for him to answer.
One, two, three, four, five, six…
"Hello?" He sounds tired, downtrodden, you know the toll it's taken on him to upturn his families entire life, how hard it's been for him and Sophia to have to leave behind everything and be thrown into isolation, for their families to be left to grieve for them.
"Six rings is too many, Al. You need to answer faster next time."
You're not sure when you turned into this hollow shell of your former self, but you can't stop yourself either.
"If you haven't forgotten, I'm kind of juggling home-schooling twins here! Christ, ease up." It's rare that Alex snaps at you, but the strain on your friendship has been palpable ever since this all went south.
Sighing, you refill your glass, before leaning on the counter, forehead pressed into your palm." I know, I know! I'm sorry. I just worry that one of these days you're not going to pick up. Fucking miss you guys so much. How's Sophia? How are the kids?"
"They're fine, Julia still asks for you at least twice a week, there's only so many more times I can lie through my teeth to her and say 'Aunties planning a trip soon, don't worry!'" He pauses, an exhausted huff leaving him. "We miss you too, for what it's worth."
That cut deeper than any wound Gut could have given you, Sophia and Alex were like family to you, you'd been closer to them than any of of your living blood relations and when they started having kids, you felt like they were a part of you too. Now you can barely remember what they look like, you think about asking Alex to send new pictures over email a lot, but the risk doesn't outweigh your selfish need. You've already messed up their young lives enough.
"I'm so fucking sorry, Al. For everything—"
"No, we're not doing this, every week you call and at some point you start rambling out an apology. You can't change things, it went how it went, this is my fault as much as it is yours, both of us should have known better than to get involved with Victor, so stop the fucking pity party and shut up."
In the background, you hear a little gasp, a child chiding him and ordering him to put money in the swear jar, it makes you laugh, a watery sound as you wipe away an errant tear with your knuckle.
"Still being bossed around by the littles, huh?" You smile to yourself, wondering how tall the girls have gotten now, or whether the nephew you never got to meet looks more like Alex or Sophia.
"You don't know the half of it." Alex half chuckles, and for a brief moment, everything feels normal, until the ticking oven timer trills on his end of the phone, signaling that the 5 minutes are up. "Sorry, same time next week?"
As much as you crave the human interaction, the want to keep him on the phone to just spill your guts, to talk like it was old times again, you knew you'd never get back to that place again, that these 5 minute calls were all you really deserved, it would be all you'd get until the day that one of you stops answering that call.
"Same time next week." You echo, voice devoid of the emotions brewing inside you, you'd let that out after the call, after you'd destroyed the phone and glugged down another glass, when you're all alone, left with only your thoughts for company, some nights the wine gets the bett and of you, you'd wrote several draft apology emails to Alex, not that you'd ever send them, you dreamed that you'd sent one to Adrian too, as much as your feelings for him hadn't been real, you still felt bad that he'd been dragged into that mess and that you'd disappeared without a trace, you hope he's doing better without Gut around now.
════════════════════════════════
For a solid year after you 'died' Adrian was practically catatonic, the Vigilante work stopped for a spell, only to start up in ways more violent than before.
Adrian's already fractured relationship with his mother became virtually non-existent, Adrian went from tolerating her to point-blank ignoring her, even when she plead with him to talk to her, when she cried over the news from the local police department that they'd found Gut's blood at the scene, enough to summise that he was dead.
His basement, once storage for all the drug money and cocaine he'd seized over the years, became his own personal sanctum and shrine to you. He'd saved every newspaper article and clipping he could, plastering it to the concrete walls, grueling over every word until it made sense.
Sometbing had always felt off to him about Gut's confession of killing you, your body had never been recovered, no mentions of a woman's body being pulled from that warehouse, only trace DNA belonging to you, but under a surname that didn't match up to the one he knew you by?
It was enough to keep a spark of hope alive that you were still out there, that he could find you and that little slither of happiness that Gut tore from him would be returned.
It had been almost two years to the day that he lost you when he found you again, at least, he'd convinced himself it was you. The email had come from an address of just a string of random letters and numbers, Adrian had almost deleted it thinking it was nothing but spam at first, but then he saw the subject line.
'I'm sorry.'
That was it, there was nothing else, nothing in the email other than that, nothing significant to indicate that it was you, but he had a hunch, and he had to follow it, if he didn't he'd always regret it.
Adrian had thrown stacks of cash at Economos that same week, begging him to work his magic and trace an IP address. John had refused the first $10k, but the second $10k did the trick, alright.
That's how he found himself in New Mexico, booking an air bnb on the same street you lived on for an indefinite amount of time, watching your house as often as he could from behind the wooden slat blinds.
You walked with a limp now, he wanted to kill Gut all over again for ever hurting you.
Each time he watched you struggle with your grocery bags he wanted to run out and help you, only just managing to catch himself a few times before he'd made it to the door.
You changed your hair, or maybe it was a wig, either way it wasn't how you'd usually wear it? Your name was completely different too, not just the surname this time.
He still wasn't really sure why you were doing all of this, why you didn't just come back to Evergreen after everything went down, you could have been married by now, you'd be so happy, you'd never have to struggle with your grocery bags alone ever again.
Why? Why wouldn't you just go back?
If you wanted to make it almost impossible to find you, then you did a good job, but not quite good enough to hide from him.
Now he'd found you, he wasn't going to let you go again, and it would be just a matter of time before Adrian crosses the street and knocks on your door.
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AND IT'S OVER, THAT'S A WRAPPPP.
If you read and enjoyed this fic, please reblog or leave a comment! It would make my day. Support fic writers! 💜
I may be pulling this out of thin air rn, but I assume that they do have a good relationship and his mother is used to his occasional outbursts. That woman was completely unfazed by the way he was speaking to her and carried on as if she couldn't even hear him (in a very adrian-esque manner, I might add. They are so related). She has lived with him for 30+ years and raised a child with aspd (and likely autism) alone. She is definitely used to and unbothered by his bs, and her reaction and knowledge about his friends leads me to believe that they do get along 90% of the time (and the fact that they play d&d together? Come ON that's so cute).
Obviously this doesn't make the way he spoke to her in episode 6 okay or justified, but from other context clues it's clear that they don't have any major issues between the two of them and they are probably relatively close.
To summarize: chase family reality show please? Their dynamic is so fun. AND WHERE IS GUT I WANT TO MEET GUT
